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Post by Deleted on Nov 24, 2014 17:09:56 GMT
Aeryn’s guild hall was bright today, the lights bright in the hall as he carried his documents down the stairs for the evening. It wasn’t a large amount, just enough to where it could be carried underneath one arm without the collection of parchment spilling on the floor. Ox gripped them tightly, pulling out a simple packaging envelope and stuffed it with his papers. A few were crumpled in the process, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it reduced the risk of them falling out of his hands on his way home. Had it not been for an emergency guild meeting, the Guardian would probably have been in his house near Windsor, sitting in his favorite chair while he read one of the books he “borrowed” from the library. No, instead, he was forced to participate in a boring meeting, and ended up haggling contract details with another group because of it.
Feeling tired and hungry, Ox pushed past a couple of lower leveled players loitering near the door of the Abbey, ignoring their complaints as he brusquely walked between the two of them. With a few quick steps, their voices were out of reach and out of mind as he walked down the dimly lit street. The air nipped at him as he made the usual beat back to his house, pulling his jacket tighter as the light breeze began to turn into a gust. The envelope blew out of his hand when he adjusted it, moving slowly along the ground since it was pretty heavy. Still, the fact that it was moving was more than enough reason for Ox to pick up his pace before…ah, too late. Another large gust came through, blasting the envelope into the air and slapping it against the door of an inn before finally settling down.
The Guardian grabbed the envelope before another wayward gust decided to snatch it again. A cold rain, feeling a little like sleet, began to pour down in the area. Ox let out a little scoff at the sight, wondering what else could possibly go wrong. …Crap, Omo’s all by himself back at the house, and it’s walking through all this rain will murder these documents, he thought to himself. Fortunately for him, that problem was easily remedied. Pulling up the in-game menu, Ox navigated to the window for managing pets, selected the icon of his Briar Weasel, choosing the De-Summon option when prompted for input. A flash of light emanated from somewhere inside his rucksack, an indicator that the operation was successful.
Finding comfort that his animal companion was now safe and sound with him, Ox opened the doors leading to the inn. A warm flame burned brilliantly in the fireplace, the smells of something delicious cooking filling the room as Ox shook the chill from his bones. The room contained many wooden tables and booths, a staircase leading to the upstairs room over in the far left corner. A kindly, elderly woman Lander was sitting behind the front desk, standing up to greet her guest as she saw him enter.
“Welcome to the Cat’s Cradle,” she said, giving the young man a polite bow. “Are you here to dine with us tonight, or is it lodging that you need?” she asked, a gentle smile on her face as she did so.
“Both, if you please,” replied Ox. “The cold’s a powerful deterrent to keep a person inside tonight.”
The stewardess of the place let out a small laugh. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that it caused you to stay at my humble inn. Every bit of business is welcome business.” Ox smiled at her as he walked to the dining area, gracing the empty guest list with its second name in a long while. Another name was already there, but he paid little to no mind as to who else would be bunking down here for the night.
Removing his jacket, he walked over to a small booth near the fire, draping the damp clothing on the side opposite of where he sat while setting his envelope on the table’s surface. Ox leaned back against the plush cushioning of the booth, letting out a yawn as he opened up the envelope and removed his documents. A couple pages fell to the ground next to his feet, unnoticed by the Guardian.
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Werecat
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Post by Arawnn on Nov 25, 2014 3:41:44 GMT
It was a couple days before Arawnn had dropped by the Cat's Cradle. He often jumped around, inn from inn, offering service for food and lodging rather than actual money. Not often did owners agree to this; needing gold more than a clean inn so it was obvious why they didn't let him stay. This place however, was very different. Arawnn smiled as he continued washing his dishes. Sadly, not a single man nor woman entered the empty inn. It was even a miracle they had dishes to wash. Finishing the last dish, he stacked them so they could dry before turning and grabbing a mop. Mopping was an easy job, and it was even easier drying it; after all the back room was rather small. The moment Arawnn was done, a dinging of a bell run through the building.
A visitor? He thought as he peeked around the corner. There was a really tall man, clutching at papers so they wouldn't fall. Behind him was the outdoors, raining from what he could see from the distance; it even gave the world a slight blueish hue from the rain. The door closed, and the man walked up to the old woman that ran the establishment, and exchanged some words before sitting down at the fireplace. Instinctively, Arawnn walked out to greet the man, but instead of greeting him he gasped, and ran into the back room. When he returned he brought a rather tall object. It had three legs on one end, and several prongs on the other, and stood about six to seven feet tall. Once more, Arawnn was regretting being four feet tall as he lugged the nearly double his size object into the room, setting it not far from the tall man and the fireplace. It took everything Arawnn had to not just grab the wet clothes and hang them up right then and there.
"G'afternoon. May I hang your jacket?" The cat bowed slightly, his arm moving across his chest to add a bit of flair. TAGS:
@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2014 3:39:17 GMT
The flames behind the fire grate flickered and danced on the logs in the stony mantle, the warmth crawling over Oxford. He felt his body shudder, possibly from the feeling of the cold that clung to his bones slowly fading away the longer he sat next to the fire. A cup of piping hot tea was brought out to him by the woman from before, the smell of strong mint leaves hitting his nose as he took a sip.
Ox scattered his papers on the table before him, setting each kind into different piles: transcripts of quests completed, quests accepted, and quests to deny. Details about Aeryn’s alliance with the guild Apocrypha. Guild recruitment flyers. Filled guild entry applications…wait, they weren’t here on the table. Not seeing them hiding underneath any other papers, Ox began to check under the table. The small bundle was scattered on the floor, not in too much of a disarray, but enough to cause Oxford a minor amount of grief as he leaned underneath the wooden table to pick them up. He hardly noticed the sound of wood scraping along the ground as a coat rack was brought to his table, realizing something was out of place once he saw a small pair of feet in front of him.
He looked up, but no one was there. Or rather, he looked up too high, completely overestimating the owner of the feet that stood in front of him. He pulled himself out from under the table, taking his original seat as a small Werecat stood in front of him. When asked for his jacket, Ox happily complied, the rack offering a better drying option than the back of the opposite bench. Plus, water wouldn’t drip all over the furnishings (which was starting to accumulate into a generous pile on the other bench).
“Ah, thank you,” he replied as he handed the sopping wet outer garment to the dignified Werecat butler/indentured servant/part-time worker. He tapped his small stack of papers on the table, placing them back with the others.
“So, who are you? Do you work here or are you did you manage to get caught up in the storm outside as well?”
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Post by Arawnn on Dec 19, 2014 22:23:19 GMT
That is rather strange. What was the man doing under the table? Arawnn asked himself in his head as he awaited for the coat to be handed to him. When the garment was handed to him, he grinned while patting down the coat lightly to remove the excess water. As he was placing the coat on the rack, making sure that it was perfectly even on both ends he heard the light tap of papers. Instinctively turning to see what it was, he noticed the man had been neatly putting some papers together in a stack. So that is what he was doing underneath the table, poor man must have accidentally dropped them. The small cat walked over and sat down at the table, directly across from the other adventurer. One question turned into a second question, both Arawnn had answers for. "I am but a humble bard that is known by the name of Arawnn." He smiled lightly as he glanced at his own name on the HUD that had been in the corner the entire time. The way he spoke his name took longer than normal, so that the other occupant of the conversation could understand how to pronounce it. "As for my current occupation, I am a traveling maid, butler, musician, and many more. I go from inn to inn, restaurant to restaurant offering my services, and am paid in room and board." The final words came out with a small sigh. "But alas, each place I go can only allow that style of pay for a meager day." Arawnn chuckled slightly in an attempt to forget that he was practically homeless, before finally offering a question or two of his own. "Mind if I ask of your name, and your own occupation as well?"Notes: Arawnn is pronounced like this (warning, might be loud, and no it is not in his voice.) TAGS:
@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Dec 26, 2014 8:42:34 GMT
Ox took a sip of his tea as he listened to the tiny Werecat’s story, feeling a little sad to hear that there were still adventurers struggling to find room and board for the night. He set his cup back on its saucer, a tiny clink sounding out as he began to think to himself. The small Werecat butler, who went by the rather unusual sounding name of Arawnn, asked the Guardian about himself now.
“Ah, I’m Oxford, a Guardian,” he answered, folding his hands in front of him as he thought about his answer to the next part of the question. “As for my occupation, hmmm…the closest thing that comes to mind is being the second in command of the local guild by the name of Aeryn.”
A twinkling of an idea began to form in his head, Oxford deciding to go ahead and jump on it while it was still taking form.
“You know, if you’re still looking for lodging, feel free to swing on by Aeryn. We’re located at the Westminister Abbey, if you ever feel like joining. There’s plenty of rooms for lodging, and of course, there’s plenty of rooms to clean, too,” he said with a small smile on his face. He pulled one of the documents, scribbling the basic guild approval BS down on the parchment before folding it up and sealing it. He slid it across the table to the small Werecat, giving him a friendly smile as he did so.
“Just give that letter to one of the people inside if you decide to join. They’ll take care of the rest.”
Oxford raised the tea cup back to his lips again, delighting not only in the flavor of the beverage, but also in the fact that he might have helped make a difference for this wandering adventurer.
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Post by Arawnn on Dec 26, 2014 9:30:58 GMT
The cat listened intently as the man before him introduced himself. Oxford, huh, and a Guardian no less. Fancy class name, it's a wonder what the class must be capable of doing. Nice choice of a name too, Oxford, probably named after the university or something along the sort; especially when he seems like the book kind of type. Arawnn's mind wandered when the man mentioned his occupation. This man was the second in command of a local guild! Finally! Maybe now he could find some long lasting work. His mouth began to open to speak about this idea, but was immediately silenced by Oxford's own idea. His ear seemed to twitch slightly in excitement as Oxford spoke. That man stole the words right out of my mouth! Lodging, perhaps food included, and rooms that need cleaning? Sounds like my kind of place! He reached forward and grabbed the letter that the Guardian had scribbled on, and picked it up.
"I'll have to drop by then. Can't have messy rooms, can we?" Arawnn smiled, a hint of glee could be heard in his voice when he mentioned the cleaning bit. "I don't suppose you will be heading that way once the storm is finished?" The cat needed to know. He could easily find his way to the Abbey, but would prefer the company of the man that sent him rather than just himself. A single glance out a nearby window showed that the storm was still pouring as hard as ever. "Gods, this rain doesn't seem to be letting up, does it?" TAGS:
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