Cindergrove

Cindergrove was a sleepy place by definition. You could tell, traveling through, that some great fire had taken place in the town some ages ago; blackened ground and only tumble-down piles of stones remained within the town limits, and weeds and saplings had long since gone to root among the ash-covered streets. However, across the river Kerromer, at the shallows adventurers and traders between safer cities used to cross the countryside, a tavern had been lovingly built by the self-proclaimed Steward of Cindergrove.

It was no mean hovel: the two-story Cindergrove Taphouse looked like it belonged in a well-to-do country town, and its proprietor, Azerius the black-and-white minotaur, kept it clean and welcoming. Warm light filtered through glassworked bottle end windows to create beautiful displays of colour in the morning and evening, and a roaring fire kept the chill out at night. Every morning, the scent of fresh baked bread wafted from the back kitchen while the server sleepily chalked out the menu for the day.

Azerius himself could often be found wandering the grounds during the day, keeping them repaired and tidied. If not repairing the tavern itself, one could sniff him out in the caravansary across the road: a huge, well-lit barn in which travelers could take their rest if they needed to secure their wares. This building was perhaps more valuable to Azerius than the tavern itself; almost always, someone from a far-away land stopped through for a few days to share news of the world beyond, and to trade in rare and wonderful belongings. Most of those went straight to the city, but a few Azerius purchased to bedazzle those staying at his tavern.

One such marvel was mounted over the fireplace: a huge fish with gossamer fins looked like it was leaping, rapier-thin snout open as if to catch some invisible mote. A clockwork time piece was mounted over the door, too, which chimed the hour with a little copper song-bird.

The only signs that anything might at any time have been 'off' was the occasional knick and scar in the charmingly mismatched furniture. An old battle axe scar in the bar counter had been lovingly filled and polished over; several chairs looked as though they had been reduced to kindling and then repaired--by hand, not by magic--to a fully functional state. Perhaps the most obvious sign of Azerius' eccentric nature: out front of the taphouse was a large sign. A symbol of a black tree, and under it, ADVENTURERS WELCOME!

So, adventurer, what would you like to do?

Silver Maw had quite a difficult time. Broke down on the road, with only a few bottles of her "medicine" and some coin, dark hooded clothing and a satchel to her name. The rest had been pilfered by bandits after they cut her donkey loose. So here she was, with only her skills to guide her

She peers at the sign, squinting lightly and shifting her paw to her chin, rubbing it, humming lightly(which turns into a "churring" noise). She had to make due, and she figured this was the place to start. Grabbing the doorknob, she opens the tavern door and slips inside, slowly closing it behind herself

"Hello?!" She calls out in her raspy voice

A young woman with pointed ears and tan skin looked up from behind the counter, and quickly tucked a pair of reading glasses up over her dark brown hair. She smiled brightly. "Hello, love, welcome to the Cindergrove! Care to take a load off? We've drinks, and Tansy's cooking up a fresh batch of stew in the back."

"This one appreciates the notion, but she sadly has no coin to spare. This jungle Walker could offer something else, yes yes."

She waltzes, nearly dances, a saunter to the counter, leaning up to it and looking the woman in the eyes, grinning easily and giving herself a wide yawn as she begins to slide over the counter to be much closer to the elven woman on the otherside, her wonderfully bedazzling eyes giving a quick glance over her. She almost appeared to be plotting... something.

The elven woman gave a warm smile and folded her arms on the counter. "Sorry, love, if you're looking to sell I'm afraid you're in the wrong place. Across the road, the barn over there?" She pointed through the bottle-end window, to where the unmistakable boxy shape was located, "there's a few folk who take their R&R before hitting the road again. Merchants and the like, sometimes weary travelers. You know, passers-through."

She raised both brows, blowing a tuft of her bangs from her face. "If you find yourself a good deal in there and want to spare some coin for a bite to eat, we're the best (and only) place to get a home cooked meal for days around these parts. Come on back anytime, of course!"

((I'm setting up some haggling threads now, but will be a few minutes getting 'em ready to rock. Feel free to wait on others to mingle with if you prefer. There is also what looks like a fireplace in the corner with a dart-board nearby it, and some comfortable chairs to sit at if Silver Maw decides to stick around anyways.))

Upon the refusal, the elf could see the iris of the Tabaxi's eyes suddenly dialate to a point where her darker eyes became an almost pure black color. Her tail sways, her paws knead at the counter and her eyes stay fixed upon the elf in vested interest. She almost laughs as she reaches into her satchel and produces a bottle of greenish liquid

"The elf shant be too sure. It's not so much selling as it is allowing you to have a bottle or two to sell to someone else. Tabaxi has perfected her craft in a ritualistic alchemetical tradition, the finest of Tabaxi works, painstakingly crafted into a bottle of the finest tonic one could buy on the streets, for almost no price. What is taken for granted by my clan has yet to appear in this culture out here.

You are looking at a bottle of what we jungle crawlers called 'Moonserum', with properties beyond the wildest of alchemy here in the cultured world. Hidden away for fear that the Tabaxi race can no longer export it to our brothers and sisters. This tonic has the ability to give one the ability to purge the imperfections of the mind and souls, and allow true channeling of magic. Tabaxi sees that your an elf, and elves cherish the art of magic. Why not take a bottle or two? Eh? In exchange, you let Tabaxi... bother others. Sell her wares" she hums, sliding the bottle across the table with a push of her claw

The elven woman looked down at the bottle, and despite herself, she bit her lip. "Moonserum?" she asked, voice growing slightly faint. She looked behind her, over her shoulder towards a half-door that smelled as though it led to the kitchen. Then, after casting a look the other way, she leaned a little further forward. "I'll tell you what; if you don't mind stepping into the caravansary across the way to sell your goods, it's no skin off my back... but I'll tell you something else, and for free, too. Azerius gets the final word on how things play out here, not me."

Her eyes dropped back to the bottle again. "But... I can bring this to him. He's out on the grounds. Maybe I let him know you're new in town and spare you the schpiel he puts on everyone who stops by. What's this stuff made out of, anyway?"

"A plant in the jungle we call Moonkiss. It's dark green, as the elf can probably tell, but the flower has... ritualistic properties. It soaks in moonlight and turns it into some sort of strange, wonderous compound. Like how a flower wilts without a sun, the reflection of the lighted moon and it's glow feed it. The tabaxi tribe I come from harvest it during the new moon darkness, using only the starlight and our wonderous Dark Vision to see through the pitch black darkness" She hums, nodding in response to the offer. The easier this was for her, the better, and hopefully, the elf or owner wasn't too good at tasting flavors

For you see... this bottle of "Moonserum" was simply a bottle of sewage water, some salt, a dash of chamomile and colored with mashed up grass. This was boiled until it was nice and thick to hide the... floating matter. Silver Maw claps a little, swaying back and giving the elf a charming little smile

"This one looks forward to seeing what her elixer can do for you... she sells it often, but some require more than one dose for the full effect. Typically four or five can truly clean one's soul to allow the magic to flow freely without inhibitation" she hums, looking at the elf

"But, Tabaxi is feeling generous... perhaps the elf would like to participate in mediation with this jungle crawler? This one has a special purring that always soothes those she 'sings' to" She hums. Silver Maw could see this elf was... falling for it. It was a bit exciting. This Azerius would be next, of course... if only she could find him. So, with her eyes slowly narrowing once more, and her now four bottles of her snake oil garbage clattering about, she steps outside, and across the street to mingle with her kind: the salesmen and women of this fine land. But not to buy... no no... she felt like perhaps, it was time to play some games with these merchants...

Rivka's green hand gently stroked a large, hairy spider that perched on her shoulder as the goblin stared a bit longingly at the stall with the animals... so many rather delicious looking beasts there. She was beginning to salivate, but purposefully turned her attention to the building that seemed to be some kind of establishment meant for eating. Elves, she knew from experience, were rather vicious creatures and chances were good it would not simply overlook the matter if Rivka snatched a chicken and ran.

And she didn't wish to get herself run out of this little town. Or worse, find herself skewered on someone's sword. The spirits had led her here and were fairly insistent that there may be a lead here on the sword of her great, great, great, great, great, ...(a few more 'greats')..., great grandfather.

She gulped nervously as she looked at the Taphouse. "Spirits..." she whispered "... protect Rivka." She stood outside for another few moments, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she gathered her courage before finally entering the establishment.

Another elf... Rivka noted, her ears drooping back slightly in worry. And some kind of creature with fur. Still, her grumbling stomach and the delicious smells coming from the place outweighed her caution and she slunk toward the bar.

"Rivka have food?" she asked cautiously, ready to flee at the first hint of hostility.

Just as Rivka stepped into the taphouse, the elf had been about to uncork the bottle, eager to get a tiny sip. The little bell chimed over the door and Rivka would notice the waitress quickly--maybe too quickly--jounced the bottle of green liquid down behind the counter. "Ah, uh, hello there, sugarblossom, sorry about that. I was just, ah, doing some inventory work here. What can I get for you?"

She took a closer look at the goblin and her hairy friend and looked as though some of the green from the bottle had gone to her face. Nervous, now, the elf said, "ah, if you have the coin for it, I can certainly serve you. How does stew and a pint of ale sound?"

"Coin?"

Of course... Rivka nearly forgot that elves and humans... and whatever that cat-like thing that had been in here when she'd first come in was ... used metal to trade goods rather than useful things.

"Uh...."

She pulled out a frayed bag full of all her most valuable treasures, digging through it in hopes there might be a forgotten coin or two.

"No coin," the goblin said, ears drooping back in disappointment.

"Well, that's no good," the waitress replied. "But it's not the worst, either. You know what, you could go around back and spot the big minotaur man; he might be willing to set up a trade. He's always looking for work and he's willing to part with a little food and drink for it. Pretty friendly guy, too."

....