Roleplay

Trip had been through thousands of different towns, cities, developments.. and from that she'd learned so much. How to slip into crowds un noticed.. so long as her hooves didn't thunk along the ground and cause people to turn and give her funny looks. How to talk to the locals and find out what the news was. And that taverns were the absolute best place to pick up a companion or a quest. the bartenders always seemed to know quite a bit about the surrounding area.. and if nothing was there, she might get to see and stop a bar fight.. which was on her bucket list.

Her bucket list was pretty literal honestly.. and it was most definitely because she wanted to be as ironic as she possible could. Kick the bucket before you kick the bucket. But no one would really remember just someone who kicked a bucket. but if that someone were to light the bucket on fire and then punt it off a building or something? they would probably be remembered. And that was her ultimate goal. To be remembered somehow.

her hooves clattered across the ground as she settled into the local bar, striking a rather dramatic pose. made all the more dramatic by her cloak and her hair which was waving in the air with a wind that wasn't there.

"Hello everyone, help has arrived and her name is Trip." She chirped.

She got a few weird looks, one cough, and a bunch of people purposefully avoiding looking at her. Shrugging her shoulder, her tiny little tail flicked slightly as she clopped across the room, moving to where the bartender was waiting.

The bartender tried his best to ignore her too apparently, not looking at her until she slapped a coin on the counter. A grin on her face she ordered some beer. "Any cool things you can share with an adventurer?"

the bartender gave her a weird look before sliding her beer across the table. "Nothing for you." he grunted before moving off.

Disappointed in his lack of enthusiasm, and of giving her any information she needed, Trip scowled and sipped her drink slowly.

Well that was fine, she'd wait here until something happened.

And.. a few hours later, and into her third beer.. maybe a little tipsy now, Trip went to the bathroom, only to return to find an Orc sitting right in the seat she'd been in not too long before.

Clopping over to him and with a bold stride she leaped up to the chair beside him and gave him a once over. An orc? or. a not quite orc. it wasn't too often she saw a half breed hanging out somewhere without question. tilting her head to the side she took a sip of her drink and grinned at the Orc who sat beside her now, her tail and ears twitching.

"So.. you like punching things? Could you punch a hole in the bar if you tried really really hard?" She offered, her eyes alight with mischief.

As Vak Came into the tavern, there was a few people here and there, many of different races now, and There was a small group in one of the corners comprised of three people who seem to be chatting. As he made is way towards the bar he could see the bartender wasn’t there, but from one of the back rooms you could hear the clanging of bottles before hearing “ Um I’ll be in there in a second sir!”. He has definitely bit of more than he could chew. After a moment of waiting Rhovull rushed in. “Eh sorry about the wait sir. What would you like again?” He gave a small and nervous smile.
He ignored the smaller figure that had walked in and sat by Vak, clearly more inclined with serving him first, weather it was the fear or just because he got here first.

@/everyone
As the night grew quieter, less and less people were in the room, only the faint chirping of crickets and the small talk going throughout could be heard. Less people were on the streets except for the occasional guard who stood out in the night with their birght crimson armor. A time for rest? Or a time for going out and exploring this city? Nevertheless you have a whole night to do what you please and who knows what might just happen.

Shieldan would greet the two other’s names, saying hello to both of them again. “I’m Shieldan, and uh I’m a shield.”

He sits up and slides closer to the edge of his chair, looking each of the two approachers up and down. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asks, adjusting his boots and loosening them a little bit.

Bryn had been happily playing music in the tavern all day watching the people come and go, occasionally swapping between his instruments. He hummed looking over the people in the tavern it seemed like the few there weren't going to be leaving soon atleast, though the residents of the town seemed to be heading off to home. His eyes drifted back over the people left, was the chainmail some kind of warforged? It was sitting up after all, though the little saytr kept catching his eyes with the movement of her hair and cloak. He finally switched to playing a soft tune on his panflute.

There were some others in the tavern to whom Vak cast a cursory glance over, but he was a half-orc on a mission. He'd come here for some good food and that was exactly what he was going to get. Luckily, it did not take long for someone to come and take his order. "Whatever the cook is making tonight, bring me three orders of it. No need for any ale, I brought my own." To which he pulled the rune-carved tankard from his pack and, upon speaking the magic phrase of "more please", it filled to the brim with ale. Which the half-orc proceeded to chug and refill twice more. The drinks not having much of an effect on him due both to his large size and his built up tolerance of alcohol over the years. Once he'd swallowed the last of the life-giving drink, Vak let out a might sigh of satisfaction. One way or another, tonight was going to be a good one!

Suddenly he became away of someone sitting beside him and, when he turned to look, the half-orc was confused for a second because he saw no one. Then, trailing his gaze downward, he found that there was actually someone there. They were simply quite short, especially compared to him. A satyress from his reckoning. Over the years he'd fought with and fought beside a fair number of them so, despite being small this one might have some skill. She cerainly wasn't carrying around those blade for show. It would be so disappointing if they were just for decoration, though. She had armor too so they probably weren't though, right? A swordswoman would make good company, especially a cute swordswoman at that.

He wasn't quite sure what she was grinning about but, upon hearing what she had to say, Vak liked where this was going. Some tests of strength and breaking things sounded like a good time! And he hadn't even gotten hid food yet. "I could punch a hole in the bar without even trying hard!" The half-orc said proudly with a laugh. The wooden surface would be no match for his fists! Putting one hand through his knuckle weapons, Vak reeled back before bringing his fist down on the bar before him. The sound of splintering wood heralded his victory over the villainous bar. Although his arm was a little stuck so it took a good pull to yank it free, causing a bit more destruction to the bar in the process.

The half-orc turned to the satyress proudly with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed out. "See! What did I tell you! Punching a hole in the bar was nothing! HA HA!"

"I think I'm in love. Like, platonically. Is that a thing? Y'all are just the embodiment of an ideal squad for me. I'd be a heck of a group, too! What do y'all think?" Onyx smiled brightly, literally glowing a little bit.
(She has had no friends for quite some time, so she's very excited)

Trip flicked her eyes to the face of the almost orc beside her as he spoke. She was half expecting him to chide her, send her away with a huff or give her a weird look and ignore her.

Instead, he bragged, and before she could ask him to prove it, he slid his hands into his glittering weapons and slammed them into the table, splintering it with a loud crack.

Suprised at first to see the crushed bar before him, it took Trip until the orc detached his arm from the bar before she could actively react.

A beat-like giggle escaped from her chest and she scrunched up her eyes as she laughed at the damage he'd done and the fact that he'd actually punched a dent in the bar. Without her even tempting him to!

"Oh.. my gods..." she rasped between little bleats of laughter. "That is a good way to make an impression." She burst into a laugh again, this time at her own joke before she flicked her eyes to his face. "My names Trip. Nice to meet-cha mister barpuncher!" She held out a hand, still grinning wildly.

As the satyress laughed, for a moment Vak was perplexed by the sound. It wasn't like you'd expect a laugh to sound like but it was a laugh none the less. Certainly wasn't a bad sound at all. Kind of nice actually. Briefly, he wondered if all of her kind laughed like that. Despite having fought with a few, most folks don't usually laugh on the battlefield. Well, except him, of course. Soon, his deep, jovial laughs filled the tavern as he laughed along with her. The sheer volume was probably a bit much, but the half-orc was never known for doing anything halfway. Well, more accurately he was known for over doing things but twice as much is still more than halfway.

He really didn't understand what she said next or why she was laughing about it. AH, yes! It must be because the whole punching a whole in the bar must still be quite funny. That was it for sure. Even though the joke went right over his head, Vak continue to laugh along like he did.

Looking down at the hand extended towards him, the half-orc's gaze drifted back up to her ginning face. A wide grin spread across his own in return. He firmly gripped her forearm with his hand and fully expected her to reciprocate in greeting. It probably became apparent that the half-orc probably was more familiar with this greeting as opposed to the probably more civil shaking of hands. There was a comical size difference between their hands as it was probably unlikely that she could wrap her hand around his muscular forearm while his easily enveloped hers. "Well met, Trip! I like the cut of your jib. Better than any of the other caped folks I've met recently." He chuckled. "Some call me The Graveless but you can call me Vak, friend." It would seem he had already made up his mind that not only was he going to befriend the satyress but that they were already friends.

"Whaddaya say we go find some fun, huh? I feel like we could really do some damage!" The half-orc laughed, casting a grin to his companion. The meal he ordered seemed to have completely left his memory.