Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Mystic Tavern [CLOSED]

He grinned to Chimera at her comment. He nodded towards The Hanged Man, a look of bemusement on his face. "Yes, it could always be better, couldn't it?"

He moved back over to his table, sitting down and sipping from his chalice once more. He scanned the room, taking in all the individuals here. He was obviously deep in thought as he did so, absentmindedly sipping from his chalice every few moments.

((I hope you don't mind if I join in as well.))

It was a quiet stroll through a mountain trail, nothing too big or out of the way. Maxwell had wandered far off from his usual cityscape residence to explore the vast wonders of nature and the awe it brought to many a man. The pathway was thick. He had walked for some two hours or so in his usual attire when he felt it. That familiar benign yet mischievous presence.

It was nothing dangerous, mind you, but things like this always seemed to happen when he least expected it. A long-term companion of his, from far away, has decided to shift his current location for one reason or another. Whatever it was... It must've been important to interrupt his pace to sense their magic at work. Either that, or they felt that he needed to be amongst his "kind" for a while. Or maybe, just maybe, they were merely amused at the situations that Maxwell would find himself in because of their whimsical interference. Regardless of why, now the trail the man was following beforehand led him in an entirely different direction, the scene gradually making a shift from mountainous forest terrain to that of a clearing... And a very old, abandoned looking tavern.

"Now why did she send me here?" He mused aloud. He frowned, clearly unamused at where his unseen ally had decided to send him today. Taking a few steps forward towards the tavern, he closely examined the interior. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a seemingly abandoned establishment in the middle of the woods.

Walking for two hours had made his feet a bit weary. Deciding to rest on a broken stool or debris the tavern may have held inside, he let himself in. He expected it to be as disheveled as the outside... And was pleasantly surprised at the clean and homey atmosphere that laid beyond the doors. So... The place is enchanted. Much bigger on the inside it seems. A strong charm, maybe?

His modern attire, a two piece casual suit cut to flatter his form, stood out among the few patrons of the bar. Yet this did not phase him in the slightest as he took a seat, tucked a stray lock of hair into his ponytail, and surveyed his surroundings with a curious, yet relaxed and familiar eye. It wasn't a sort of familiarity from knowing the place before, but the sort from knowing he shared some kind of gift with some the patrons as well, even if it may not show at first.

(I don't mind. The more, the merrier. And your character is very interesting ^^)

The Hanged Man swayed on his feet, flicking Chimera an amused look when she kissed his cheek. "R-really? Shuf-shuffling around with a drunk?" He barked out a low, rough laugh and clapped a gloved hand to his forehead. "You're not a bad dancer. T-too bad we could get his majesty to join us ..." Another glance was tossed Sauron's way before the door opened and drew the soldier's attention. Green eyes followed the new patron for a few moments, staring at his outlandish attire. "S'he wearing?" he asked Chimera.

She chuckled a bit at The Hanged Mans comment. "Shuffling around with a drunk is a lot more fun than ballroom-dancing, trust me," she replied. She smiled, when he said that she wasn't a bad dancer and what a shame it was they couldn't get Sauron to join them. "Maybe next time," she said. She looked at Sauron for a moment. She was about to go up to the bar to get another drink, when The Hanged Man asked her a question. She looked around the Tavern to see who he was talking about. It didn't take her long to spot him. She stopped and turned around. She assumed he was asking what he was wearing. For him it might look funny, but for her it wasn't extraordinary. She recognized it from her time in the Human Realm. "That? That's modern attire in the Human Realm. A lot of people wear that there. He reminds me of a bussinessman or perhaps someone in law enforcement," she wondered. She couldn't help but stare a bit at him. If he looked at her, he'd see a normal girl with normal clothes.

Maxwell crossed his legs as the thought of water crossed his mind for a moment. Not that he needed it, mind you, but it was nice to have nearby just in case. He perked up a bit upon hearing the Hanged Man ask about his clothing. He was more than ready to answer, but held his tongue when Chimera answered for him. As if to show his simple appreciation, he gave a small nod in acknowledgement before turning back to his table. There was a bottle of water on the table waiting for him. "Hmm." Curious.

Reaching out to open the bottle, he was about to take a sip until he felt like he was being watched. He turned to Chimera, giving her a friendly-- if not outright curious-- glance. "...Is there something wrong, young miss?" A small amount of concern lit up his eyes, as if asking silently if he wasn't supposed to be here.

((So long as you've read the first post, not at all! All are welcome here!))

He grinned a bit more when Maxwell entered the tavern. It's not very often that someone from that realm comes here. Technology is rarely seen, and his style of clothing told him quickly what kind of realm he was from. He wondered if this man was of the technological sort, though. He didn't seem to have that kind of presence to him, the sort of walk that those with modern weaponry tend to carry with them. He was much more relaxed, which either meant he was very good with his modern weapons, or he simply lived in a world where they existed alongside magic.

He looked over at The Hanged Man and Chimera for their conversation, chuckling a bit and raising his chalice to them. "Unfortunately, I save my rare moments of dancing for truly momentous occasions. You'd be surprised how often once capabilities at dancing can save lives. Or create them, of course."

The young-looking demon girl turned her attention towards Maxwell yet again, her thoughts being broken in the process. She shook her head and smiled slightly. "No, I apologize for staring. It's just uncommon to see other people - humans - in a place like this. I was merely wondering how you got here," she replied. Her curiousity had been peaked. She could sometimes be quite direct or say her thoughts out loud. At times, it could seem like she didn't really think before she spoke, but she did. She was merely an honest person. Well, to an extent. She never did reveal much about her life if she didn't want to. She had after all maintained an illusion for several years. She was putting on a show at this very moment. Sauron might see have seen her for what she truly was. She did not lie to him, because he knew her true form. She had let her guard down for a moment, and he had seen. She had no reason to conceal anything for Sauron and he had been in the Demon Realm many times it appeared. Rumours went around in the Demon Realm like a wild fire. Spreading and spreading. Being the princess, of course they reached her as well. Even though she appeared very human, there was something off about her. An aura of some kind. A feeling. Like a raging fire. Something powerful.

"How I got here..." Maxwell paused for a moment. "...It's a long story, I assure you. But you don't need to hear an old human like myself prattle on about how he stumbled into such a place by himself." Yet despite his claim of being old, his body was that of any strapping young man that had seen war a few times. Even his face held the remnants of youth... Except for his eyes. They broke the illusion immediately as they smiled at her. They teemed with things unseen, ages lived... Very old eyes they were. And they were just as curious about the aura that emenated from the woman, however faint it was to his natural eyesight. Things like sensing power weren't for the eyes to witness, though they helped.

What kind of woman is she, I wonder...?

Maxwell himself reeked of a powerful essence... That belonged to someone else. It was as if the man was marked, claimed by another soul entirely. However, closer inspection would see his own gifts seep out. It held its own fiery presence, honed with time, patience, and skill. But it was not as strong as Chimera's.

For a moment, his eyes met with Sauron's. They spoke volumes of friendly mischief, as if wanting to know a little bit more about the man surveying the bar like he owned the place. Maybe he did. But, first thing's first.

"But... I'm curious. Do humans not often come to this place?" He questioned. He merely wanted to know for the sake of knowing.

She listened to his words with interest. She was a bit curious about this man. She smiled a bit more, when he said he stumbled into the place. "You don't look that old to me," she replied. She tilted her head slightly and looked at him. He had mentioned himself as being old, though he didn't look it. She thought about what he said. Did he really stumble into the Mystic Tavern? What are the odds? Standing in front of him and talking to him, she could feel something about him. A powerful essence, but her curiousity was yet again peaked, because it didn't seem like it belonged to him. Did he have a split personality or something? It was like there were two people in this one man. It was a bit confusing for her. Her head ached a bit, so she tried not to think about it too much. She turned her gaze towards Sauron when he did, and waved with a friendly smile and a nod. She then turned her attention to the mysterious man again, whose name she didn't know. When he asked her if humans didn't come here very often, she shook her head. "No, they don't. That's why I was curious about you. This is a place that's smack in the middle of everything. It's not in the realm of humans or demons or anything. It's just here. But getting here is difficult, even for a human. Especially for a human," she replied, looking at him curiously. She found it hard to believe that he just happened upon this place, but then again it wasn't uncommon, was it? That's mostly how people found it. They just wandered about and suddenly this old run-down looking Tavern appeared before them. She had found it herself after leaving the Demon Realm, confused and alone. Not knowing where to go.

He couldn't help but grin when Chimera looked at him also. He nodded towards the newcomer, and gave a small wave in return to Chimera, who really seemed much happier having danced with The Hanged Man. He sipped from his chalice, looking the man over as he conversed with Chimera. Opening his senses a little more, he began to understand what was going on. He could see the astral line leading from him, and could sense the power that radiated from it. It was strong, too, and that peaked his curiosity a bit. Was it a demon? Was there a powerful mage that was feeding him power? What was the nature of the contract, if there was one at all? Was he merely someone's puppet, a play thing by some lesser god or someone with a powerful artifact?

He decided it was best to leave these questions alone for now. Most people did not like someone prying to who they were. He made sure to fully conceal his power, though, as if it may attract the person with whom he was connected to. The last thing he wanted was another fight from someone trying to claim that they could take him down, and end up destroying the tavern again in the process.

"Ah, you flatter me," he responded. As he nodded in acknowledgement of her compliment, the benign aura surrounding Maxwell seemed a bit more... Intense. It was clear that whatever or whoever the presence belonged to, it was more keen on keeping its charge protected than seeking warfare with any stronger soul. But it was a fickle thing, and before long it settled down to its normal, vague pulses of energy. Maxwell seemed to pay no heed to this shift in intensity other than a mere thought.

I'm not even in trouble, and they mean to make sure I'm fine. It's not like they'll come to my aid if I do choose to pick a fight.

Sauron's nod was returned with a friendly smile, hints of sultriness peeking from such a simple gesture. Was he always like that? Sadly, yes, but he meant no harm from it; usually he wasn't even aware of such hidden depths showing for mere moments at a time. He turned his attention back to Chimera after making his muted, yet mutual curiosity in the man visible.

"I see... That's really a shame. But then again, such a fine establishment may not have been meant for mundane eyes... At least, that is my initial thought." His eyes then widened as if he had made a horrible mistake. "Ah, where are my manners? I need to introduce myself to such an intriguing young lady..."

A simple flourish was made with his hand, as if to cup something against his chest as he made his introduction not only to her, but to the man in the corner as well. Whether he chose to acknowledge this was not Maxwell's main concern at the moment. "I am Maxwell. It is a pleasure to make such a lovely acquaintance, Miss...?" He glanced at the woman to hopefully finish his sentence. He seemed polite enough if he felt a major error was not introducing himself.

"Not at all," she replied, when he said she flattered him. She felt the aura around him getting more intense. Getting stronger and then settling down again. As though it was defending itself or him, but realizing there was no threat. Like it was calmed down. She wondered what it was. Perhaps that's why she was so curious. She could sense the energy surging within him. Her own aura would probably seem strange. It had an otherwordly feeling, which of course makes sense, considering that she is from the deep dark depths of the Demon Realm, and literally is out of this world, but to other people, who were tricked by her illusions and saw her as this, might be confused. She merely listened, when he said it was a shame, and maybe it wasn't meant for 'mundane' eyes. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly. Seems he didn't know much about this magical place. Sauron could probably lecture him about it if he wished to. She didn't interrupt him to tell him, but just listened and let him introduce himself. She smiled a bit more, when he said she was an intriguing young lady. He had no idea. She was a lot older than he thought she was. I mean, in Demon-age it's fairly young. A young adult, but well. It's complicated. Not to mention that she's a fullblooded winged demon with curved horns. She chuckled. "Chira. People call me Chira," she replied, finishing his sentence. It was only partially true. Her real name was not Chira, but people did call her Chira. At least that's who she was in the Human Realm. She looked at Sauron for a moment, thinking about whether he was going to say something about it. He'd probably notice right away that she was lying, because he knew her real name and her true form. Was he gonna expose her? Did he even care?

The Hanged Man let out a bout of wild laughter when Chimera said Maxwell was wearing "modern attire." Afterwards, the drunk soldier slumped into a seat and seemed to lose himself in thought ... that, or black out.

"Chira? Such a lovely name, Chira..." He seemed to enjoy the name like a glass of fine wine... But, he did that to all names he could properly place with a face.

The laughter of The Hanged Man caught Maxwell's attention for a few moments. His eyes shifted towards the sound's direction. For other people, they would jump to conclusions and take some offense, assuming the worst. For Maxwell... He assumed how silly he must've looked compared to everyone else. He let out his own chuckle at the realization. "I must stick out like a sore thumb, hmm?" He mused to no one in particular.

Even if Chimera seemed as normal as he was in this tavern, it was but a minor solace that may or may not be shattered sooner or later. He knew that Chimera wasn't normal, he could feel as much. Her aura was strong, almost... Familiar? No, not familiar, just similar. Darker. The question that plagued him was... How was this woman different from his own natural form? It was a question that Maxwell couldn't ask the lady outright for seemingly obvious reasons.

But that was not the focus here. The focus was being social in a strange place that Maxwell had no clue about. A lecture about the tavern would be well received, most likely. "So... Chira. What brings you to such a place?"

The strong aura that marked his body and soul seemed to give its own hints of otherworldliness. Then again, with Maxwell's clothing, it was highly possible that he hailed from another world as well. It was clearly more benign, but tended to shift... Attitudes, which was the closest thing he could describe it as if he was asked. It was as if the aura itself had two separate personalities. But what exactly it was... It seems it would rather keep vague for its own reasons.

Leaning back and propping his feet up onto the counter, his clothing changed from his previous regal attire back into his less formal light armor regalia. He looked over to Chimera as she glanced his way, giving that knowing, evil grin, raised his chalice to her for a moment, and then sipped from it. His power remained hidden, so well that aside from those who were gods, or those who could peer through the most powerful of illusions ~and~ enchantments, he would seem to be no more than an elf, having a drink from a very expensive chalice, with any semblance of magic coming from his gear as opposed to himself. He continued to watch the other patrons in the tavern, keeping an eye on the newest patron and his demoness conversationalist.

Walking into the cavern, Roemello didn't mean to draw any extra attention. His furred companion situated in his low zipped jacket, he headed straight for an empty seat at the bar. "May I have a large order of milk please."

Maxwell was still paying attention to Chimera with interest, but in the corner of his eye he caught onto two things in the bar: Sauron changing armor, and the quiet newcomer that walked into the bar. He was clearly more fascinated with the former.

Hmm. Dark magic? Simple transformative spell? Maybe something akin to his race? Whatever it is, he must be a very powerful magus.

And that's all Maxwell saw him as and could see him as unless the man chose to reveal otherwise: a rich and powerful elven mage who seemed very skilled. Compared to him, Maxwell must seem but a mere mage's apprentice with an affinity towards fire. Or maybe not. Looks were decieving in anyone's case at the bar. Regardless, he knew it was very unwise to irk or anger the noble stranger in the corner. It was a mere fact of common sense than things akin to intuition and the like.

He gave the newcomer a passing glance and a smile before turning his curious eyes back to Chimera, patiently waiting for her reply.

(I apologize for replying late! - I will be going on a vacation tomorrow and won't be back till Sunday. If I'm able to take my laptop with me, I might be able to reply some time during the week)

She just looked at him as he seemed to taste the name. How it felt on his tongue, like a fine wine. She nodded and smiled. "Thank you," she replied. She knew it wasn't her real name, but she still felt a bit attached to it. It did have some meaning to her. It was her alias. Her escape from the truth. From her real origin. The Demon Realm. She quite liked the name, as it hid her from the horrors of the past. Sometimes she might even prefer it, but then again. Chimera. Only a demon could name their child after a mythological monster. But then again, she kind of was a monster, wasn't she? How many lives had she taken in the name of the Royal family? How many had she taken getting out? He broke her chain of thoughts as he talked to himself about how he probably stood out. "Well, people have already adjusted to seeing me," she replied, knowing very well that he wasn't talking directly to her. She gestured to her clothes, which to him, would also be modern attire from the Human Realm. The only difference was that she didn't look like a lawyer, but more like young adult. She wore something that must young people would wear. She wore a white tanktop with some kind of print on it, a blue hoodie, jeans and sneakers. She couldn't help but wonder if he could sense it. The dark aura surrounding her, possibly making people a bit uneasy. Like they just stepped into a cemetery or something similar. But as long as she kept up the illusion, he'd never see her real form, which was seemingly more intimidating. She looked around the Tavern for a bit, scanning the room. Her eyes fell on the little group of people she had talked to earlier, before she returned her gaze to Maxwell, when he asked her a question. She sighed and sat down on a chair by the table, being tired of standing up. "Running away from my problems," she responded. "It's complicated. I come here a lot, because it's so familiar and people don't bother me," she added. "It's very spectacular, and Saurons to blame. He owns this Tavern." She looked at Sauron for a moment again. He had sent her a mysterious smile earlier, that made her a bit unsure. She wasn't really sure what it had meant, but she sent him a smile. She ordered another drink and waited for it to show up in front of her on the table.

"Ah, I suppose you may have a point..." Maxwell mused. He propped his elbow against the table, cradling his cheek against his raised hand in a casual manner. As he noted her clothing, he seemed to be admiring her form. Or was he simply admiring her clothing; how despite their modern look, the youthful wear seemed to fit perfectly alongside this tavern? Whatever the intent, it was slight and passing. He had no intention for any sort of flirtations unless the chance presented itself freely.

"Don't we all seem to run away from our problems, if only for a little while?" He could only smile at Chimera and raise his bottle in a small semblance of understanding. He nodded along politely to the conversation until a name caught his attention: the owner of the tavern. His lips fell straight for a moment. "...Sauron?" His eyes followed her gaze toward the man at the table. Is that him? He demurely examined the stranger again, silently analysing his form and attire. I would imagine more of a... Merchant type. But then again...

"Does he ever visit his own establishment?" He questioned curiously. "It's such a fine place with its own... Charm." His eyebrows raise for a hint of emphasis. "I would love to meet the person behind such a place. To express my humble gratitude, of course." With that, he took a longer drink of his water, delighting in the taste with closed eyes. He then looked at the bottle itself in mild amazement. Such a crisp taste. Exactly how I like my water. Hmm. Where did the owner get this from?