Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » A Complicated Gathering (Closed)

Nathan arched a brow. "You encountered problems there, or you didn't get along with the natives?" He inquired.

But he led the way into the tavern and paused to let his eyes adjust. Bella, having had enough, thrust her nose at Nathan and then vanished into the shadows. "Hoy! Bella, get back here!" Nathan whispered loudly--not wanting to draw attention to the fact that a wolf was now wandering the tavern.

Arnes followed Nathan in, prepared to answer him, when he thought he saw something that caught his eye. A suit of armor, and not just any armor either. He walked up to the man in golden armor and tapped on the back appreciatively.

"Say, this is some good stuff! Where did you get this, exactly?"

Then he noticed the symbol on the cape, the mark of Tharyn. Arnes placed a hand on the table and wheeled to face the front of the sitting man. There was something distinctly reminiscent in the helmet's features that made Arnes gasp a little, but the face itself was unfamiliar to him.

"You, you're from Mirth, aren't you? What can you tell me about what happened there?"

He forgot about Nathan, or getting something to eat, or even the wolves from earlier; his attention was totally captured by the armored man sitting next to him.

Arien looked up as someone came storming towards them. He didnt recognize the tall stranger, though he got flashes of his friend due to his height. He glanced at TMIG. "Uh, friend of yours?" he asked dryly.

Only then did he realize there was something furry whacking its tail against his legs. He looked down into the golden eyes of an Aurean wolf and then grinned.

"Bella! I haven't seen you in ages!" He looked up immediately. "Where's Nathan?" He scanned the tavern and finally made out a familiar lanky figure. He waved.

He turned towards the new arrival and laughed. It wasn't a laugh, though, that one would give at something humorous, but rather, a laugh that one would give at something in which the only alternatives were to shout or cry out. It was a low, rasping, gravelly, almost guttural, sound, and no doubt many patrons of the tavern turned to stare at where it had come from. He grasped the blue hand laying on the table and dragged the man close to him.

"Robe, beard, yes...Arnes Teranyn, I presume? You're something of a legend, although I rather doubt it's the legend that you expected. In any case, sit down, order something to eat, we've lots of time on our hands, and it's not like there are any other Mirtheans to talk to in here."

Unlike Arnes, the Man in Gold was able to turn his helmet in the direction of Arien before turning back to his blue companion; how interesting, that the only other possible survivor of his race just happened upon him in a tavern somewhere. Only other...the Other? He would find out, he supposed.

Nathan paused as Arnes ran past him to a table where two men were gathered; the strange armor grabbed his attention long enough that he didn't notice the other man stationed until he heard the familiar cry of "Bella".

He looked over at the wave and grinned. "Arien, fancy running into you here. What's with your, ah, friend here?"

To Arnes, he said: "Are we sticking around?" He rather thought his new associate wouldn't be going anywhere, judging by the armor-clad man's reaction.

The server, meanwhile, rolled her eyes and waited to see if these newcomers would like anything to eat.

Arnes nodded vigorously at the man's use of his name, then he was correct; this armored stranger was definitely from Mirth, but that would make him very, very old. What could he know about the planet, Arnes wondered. He quickly took a seat next to the armored man and asked the server for chicken and a very weak liquor. Nathan had asked him a question, but he had been so preoccupied that he hadn't heard it immediately. However, he looked back at the man and gave his assent; this would be a while.

"Tell me everything you know, kinsman; it's been too long, far too long, since I've heard news about our planet."

Arien settled down as Nathan took the last vacant seat. "Never thought I'd run into you or Bella," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. And then looked at Arnes. "Who's he? Your twin? Why do you guys have to be so tall."

But he fiddled with the vial of red liquid and felt Bella settle down under the table, merging once again with the shadows.

The server nodded as she took down their orders and left to ready the food.

He snorted at the term "kinsman". It'd been a very, very long time since he had heard that word and not attacked a foolish Terisian who had mistaken him for one of their own. He shifted on the seat and nodded to Arien, though, as he had asked a question that would be easy to answer.

"Actually, I'm taller than the average Mirthean. Arnes here seems to be about average, though...in terms of height, anyway. His magic skills, though, are more questionable," he jested.

It had been a popular joke before the cataclysm that to "go Teranyn" was to go into something with a foolhardy manner and fail, miserably. The man had already been gone for two thousand years when the Man in Gold was just growing up, so clearly if Teranyn was here, still a young man, then he had done something right.

"In a moment, Teranyn. I hunger, and talking about our home is something best not done on an empty stomach."

Nathan settled down, looking from TMIG to Arnes. "Maybe we should introduce ourselves. I'm Nathan and crouched under the table is Bella, so please try not to kick each other." Actually that last bit was directed more at Arien than either of the taller men. "And while I have no idea how you two came to find each other, I'm assuming that's a good thing?"

He eyed the armored man curiously, unsure what the jokes were about. He had been considered a little eccentric before his experiment, sure, but people had great hopes about him. Had things changed after he left?

"I don't understand you, sir, or what you're trying to imply about my magical abilities. Are you saying I'm not capable?"

Arnes had a real problem with his pride, and when someone undercut his abilities as a wizard, he would get testy. In fact, he was so focused on what the Man in Gold had said that he was unaware of what Nathan had said. However, it looked like the food and drinks would be arriving soon, so hopefully the mood would lighten over chicken and liquor.

Amused by the whole thing, even if he didn't understand how these two strangers knew each other, Arien was content to stay and listen. Plus, the food would be arriving soon.

Sure enough, the server came back with three chickens and one bowl of stew. The stew went to Arien as he tried not to stare too obviously at the prepared chicken. It was just as he had remembered. Everything in the chicken had been cooked and placed beside the breast: heart, liver, intestines--everything.

After that, came their beverages. And then the server left. Arien cast a glance at Arnes and TMIG's faces, wondering if they'd notice the extra bits of chicken on their plates. At the same time, he was wondering when would be a good time to spike their food...

The Man in Gold absentmindedly pushed the other parts to one side of his plate and unlatched his helmet; he revealed his face to the three other men. It was blue, like Arnes', and he had red eyes, but his left eye was dark and motionless; it had a large scar through it that ran all the way down to the left side of his mouth, giving him a permanent sneer on that side. There were small scars and nicks all over his face, and his mouth was shriveled and wrinkled, as the mouths of elderly people were often like.

He began to eat, ignoring the rest, and he chewed quietly and with a dismissive scowl at Arnes. Once he had finished the chicken breast, he took a drink of whiskey and set his armored hands on the table; his countenance adopted a contemplative look.

"So, where have you been for the last 15,000 years, Arnes? You must have not realized the jokes they used to tell about you after you had left. The poked holes in your theories, ridiculed you in the streets. You were a laughingstock of the magical community, and after that, we went back to studying smart portals."

Nathan smirked at Arien's disappointed look and then began to eat as well. A simple sleight of hand made the unwanted pieces of heart and liver vanish off his plate, to be eaten eagerly by Bella who waited underneath for such handouts.

Curiously enough, though, Nathan didn't remark about TMIG's face or scarring. He did, however, listen to what TMIG had to say. His eyes widened. 15,000 years? Surely that was a joke.

"You were gone for 15,000 years?" he couldn't help it. The distance, the time, it was too much.

He threw the Man in Gold an angry look and began to work on his chicken, his eyes focused on his plate. He avoided the organs and concentrated on the breast only. When Nathan asked his question, Arnes responded without looking up.

"It was an experiment, to find the Home World. He," he nudged his head in the Man in Gold's direction, "can tell you about it better than I can. The point is, I was in suspended animation for that time, conscious but unaging and undying. It was a long time, but I came back to Mirth eventually. Everyone was gone, and the buildings were overgrown and falling down."

He continued to eat in introspection.

Arien twisted the cap of his tabasco sauce vial and began to dump liberal amounts of it into his stew, before offering it to TMIG and then to Arnes.

"This'll make those other bits of chicken taste good," he offered. "Or make you forget all about your problems." Likely both; it was hard to think about emotional pain when your tongue was burning. "Any takers?"

He stirred his stew, tasted it, and then took a hearty bite. He loved his sauce. Even if Nathan rolled his eyes and looked disgusted.

The Man in Gold ignored Arnes' question and grasped the bottle that Arien had offered and emptying the whole thing onto the plate of chicken parts. 13,000 years had dulled his taste buds and a little...or rather, a lot...of hot sauce would just make things taste better. He took a few bites out of it, took another look at the bottle, and then chewed thoughtfully before handing the bottle back to Arien.

"Not the usual flavor; do you make your own stuff?"

Now was not the right time to talk about Mirth; he wasn't nearly drunk enough to even think about touching upon those memories. It was unbelievable that he had finally met another member of his race, but with his luck, it would be Arnes Teranyn. If even one-hundredth of the rumors about him were true, the man would have blown up a third of this planet they were on before he could levitate a fork. If Teranyn was the Other, the Man in Gold was in trouble.

Nathan opened his mouth to warn TMIG about the contents of the vial, before closing it again. Clearly the man had issues--as did Arien. He glared at Arien.

"That was hardly the proper time to do that," he muttered. The smell of tabasco sauce overwhelmed the table now; people three tables down were making noises about the toxic smell. Nathan ate faster.

Arnes wrinkled his nose at the smell, but continued to eat his chicken breast. Once that was done, he sipped at a weak ale and swished the liquid around for a moment with a contemplative look before deciding that he could have a few more safely. He was thrilled to have finally found another Mirthean, but this fellow in the armor just rubbed him the wrong way.

"That smells quite awful, good sir," he coughed, affected by the strong fumes, but said nothing else.

If he was going to be here for a while, hopefully the other man would stick around long enough for some questions, but Arnes was, frankly, hoping that he would be rid of this unlikable man.

Arien beamed at TMIG. "I do make it myself. I have vials of it. The hard part is finding the correct spices." He frowned. "I don't suppose you've encountered anything particularly spicy, have you, on your travels?"

He stuck his tongue out at Nathan, not the most mature thing, but hey, Nathan was here, he could afford to relax a little.

He grunted in rejection, as he had encountered plenty of spicy things in his travels, but he was busy eating the other parts now. He took a break from eating to polish off the whiskey, and then turned to Nathan.

"You, you know this area? This other human here," he jerked his head at Arien, "is helping me look for someone, or something. The Other, a name or a phrase, is all I've got to work on. Unless, you," he pointed at Arnes, "are the Other. Tell me, did you happen to bring anything very old with you when you arrived here?"