The brown robed servant.

[Nevariath]

The brown robed servant.

*The doors to the tavern open, and a man in a brown robe stumbles in, almost falling to the floor. Gaining his balance and adjusting himself, the man studies the room for a moment. To all around, they can see that the robe he is wearing is quite filthy, it may have been a eggshell white at one point, but it has turned a dull brown from stains. His face is thin, and ghostly white, with the most sleep deprived eyes a normal person has ever seen. The hair atop is short and grey, and covered in dirt and grime. It is clear he has not cleaned up in quite some time.*

*Quickly nodding to the barkeep, the man scurries off to the farthest corner of the tavern, and plops down on a chair. Moving his hands to his waist, he removes two small books, an ink bottle, and a quill. In a flash he opens the books on the table, and dips the quill. He taps the quill on his cheek for a moment, contemplating, not noticing that he is dabbing ink on his face. His hands are no where near steady, and every few moments, he looks to his hands to watch them tremble. After a few moments pass, he begins writing in his book in a hurried fashion. It would seem that he is not even writing words, perhaps just jibberish. He continues writing, all the while peaking up from his books to watch the patrons wander about in the tavern.*

 

[ViktorRomanov]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*notcing the awkward man walk in, he takes stock of him. Thinking he is no immediate threat he continues with his work behind the bar.*

*After some time of the new patron hurridly at his work, he walks over to him, slowly moving about the tables and chairs*

G'Day sir, might I interest you in an ale or perhaps a mug of black viscus liquid I think might be coffee?

 

[Nevariath]

The brown robed servant.

*As the words reach the man's ears, he becomes startled, dropping his quill and looking in bewilderment at the source. Realizing someone is offering him a drink, he smiles happily and nods to the man.*

Aye sir, I'll take my chances with the possible coffee. How much does this tavern charge for a cup?

*In a heartbeat, the man bends to the floor and retrieves his quill. Then returning his gaze to the bartender, smiles again and reaches in his pouch to find a given amount of gold coins.*

 

[ViktorRomanov]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*smiles at the man, feeling somewhat bad for disturbing his train(s) of thought.*

On the house, the first cup of coffee is always free here.

*returns with an oversized mug of coffee for the man*

Enjoy and let me know if there is anything else you might need.

 

[Nevariath]

Re: The brown robed servant.

((OOC : *Ahem* After a momentary pause...))

*The man smiles pleasantly, and slowly takes the coffee from the barkeep.*

Why thank you, kind sir! I shall inform my master that this is a notable establishment!

*And with that, the robed man downs the coffee as quick as he can, and begins jotting away again. He seems to be reading from one book, and writing in the other. Without paying any mind to what is around him, he begins muttering under his breath as he jots. His body movements might lead someone to believe that he was having a conversation with another person, but the words are inaudible.*

*Several hours pass and the man continues to write in the corner, every now and then looking to the doors of the tavern, and then back down to his books without noticing anyone else around him. Still muttering, still jotting.*

 

[Bjorg]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*leading his horse slowly into town, Wrongway pulls alongside the tavern where he had earlier stopped for a drink. Wincing a bit as he hops down from the saddle, he ties up his horse and heads into the tavern.*

*wearily pushing the door to the tavern open and glancing only briefly at the brown robed man in the corner feverishly scribbling away, Wrongway makes his way to the bar.*

Hey Vic, give me an ale, with a rum chaser.

OOC: You notice that there is a cut in the side of his leather armor and there is a noticeable blood stain with fresh blood seeping out. There are also two bloody hand prints on the chest of his armor.

Vic, you got any clean rags, I can use for a bandage around here?

 

[Sintoo]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*A sudden ruckus of loud shouting can be heard outside of the tavern*

*3 armoured men in red & black uniforms can be seen through the window*

*Spurs clinging to ironclad feet can be heard walking at a quick pace on the wooden entrance floor*

*The tavern door is hurled open, and a man in maroon coloured robes steps in, screaming outside over his shoulder to the other two men attending the horses*



Ye search every damned house in 'tis gods forsaken village if ye 'ave to!
Report back 'ere when yer finished, 'n fer yer sake I hope ye find me one,
I wont tolerate failure!


*The man continues his determined walk leaving a trail of muddy footsteps behind him and finishes at the bar, slamming his gauntlets down on the counter*


Oi, who's the barkeep in 'tis flea infested excuse of a drinking hole?


*By hos brusque behavior it' easy to assume that this isint the first tavern the man has visited this day*

*He turns his back on the counter and leans against it*

 

[Nevariath]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*The loud clatter of events happening all around him stops the jotting, and the brown robed individual begins to take in the newcomers. Observing the two new patrons in the tavern, and the men outside with the horses, he begins to write in his books without taking his eyes off the scene in front of him. He seems to write while studying all the folks around him, and then quickly closes his books and places all the instruments into his pouch. It is now that he notices the amount of time that has passed. Grabbing his empty coffee cup, he moves swiftly to the bar, standing far from the other two patrons who have come in, and lightly places his cup down. Standing with his eyes locked on the bartender, he begins to speak in a subtle voice.*

Excuse me good sir, where is the nearest graveyard from here?

*Slightly looking to the side to notice the patrons, then quickly shifting his eyes away, he stands waiting for his response.*

 

[Bjorg]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*A sudden ruckus of loud shouting can be heard outside of the tavern*

*3 armoured men in red & black uniforms can be seen through the window*

*Spurs clinging to ironclad feet can be heard walking at a quick pace on the wooden entrance floor*

*The tavern door is hurled open, and a man in maroon coloured robes steps in, screaming outside over his shoulder to the other two men attending the horses*



Ye search every damned house in 'tis gods forsaken village if ye 'ave to!
Report back 'ere when yer finished, 'n fer yer sake I hope ye find me one,
I wont tolerate failure!


*The man continues his determined walk leaving a trail of muddy footsteps behind him and finishes at the bar, slamming his gauntlets down on the counter*


Oi, who's the barkeep in 'tis flea infested excuse of a drinking hole?


*By hos brusque behavior it' easy to assume that this isint the first tavern the man has visited this day*

*He turns his back on the counter and leans against it*

*looking up from his barstool*

Hold it down lad, it's been a long night. *raises his hand * Hey Vic, serve up this Yew Guardsman an ale while he waits on his men to find whatever it is they be looking for.

*turning to the man* name's Wrongway, and you?

It's good to see the Yew Guardsmen active again. I was growing weary of keeping the orcs and drow cleared off your road. Maybe now I can focus on the thieving problem in Britain.

*glances over at the brown robed gentleman in the corner*

 

[Nevariath]

Re: The brown robed servant.

*Smiling politely and noticing the barkeep is rather busy at the moment, the robed man places his cup on the counter and begins to walk quickly past the other gentlemen. Clutching his belongings tightly as he walks, he pushes the tavern door open and springs forth onto the path. Picking up his pace, he makes his way down the path, a swirl of dust picking up behind him as he walks.*