Open Nightowl

A late night walk about the floating City

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Nightowl

Postby Johdin on March 29th, 2014, 6:51 am

Spring 5, 514 AV


A chilly breeze snaked its way into Johdins cloak as he slipped out of the Tarsins Boarding House. He stood for a moment to pull up his cloak and look up to the sky. It was a crimson red as the sun began to set on the floating city of Ravok. The late afternoon sun cast shadows across the landscape which, to Johdin, made the city seem even more beautiful and mysterious. With a deep breath, he set off.

Johdin was bored, mostly. He had no nefarious plans or greedy intentions. It was just, he had been in Ravok for a few days now and really hasn't had the time to see the city. Not being much of a fan of people, Johdin waited till this time to go for his walk. As he walked, he really began to take in his surroundings.

Johdin passed by various housing areas and warehouses before finding his first, major landmark. The Silver Sliver Tavern. It was small, compared to the soaring housing buildings but still bustling none the less. Especially at such a late hour, the tavern was the focus off all the late night citizens attention. Eager to escape the cold, Johdin made his way inside.

Immediately upon entering, his senses were bombarded with information. The sight of the bustling barmaids and customers, all scrambling around for whatever reason. The sounds of laughter and orders. But most of all, was the smell. That rich smell of food and alcohol so strong that, at first, it made his nose cringe. Drinking was not one of Johdins strong suites.

"Welcome to the Silver Sliver, sir." A rather cheerful barmaid greeted him as she juggled a platter of dirty dishes an a few mugs of some silvery drink that Johdin had never seen before. With a charming smile, Johdin pulled back his hood and greeted the woman back. He then made his way to an empty chair. Before he sat, that same girl at the door was at his side.

"What can I get you sir?" she asked.

"Best you have to eat, ma'am." he replied pleasantly. Since he was already here, and had no dinner before, Johdin felt it couldn't hurt to spend a few Mizas for a full stomach.

"Coming right up." Johdin watched, admiring her petite figure as she danced and weaved with grace through the drunken crowd.
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Johdin
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Nightowl

Postby Caridan on May 3rd, 2014, 7:01 pm

And so for the black cloak he waited and wait did he far too long. Frayed patience, a little vain protruding from his forehead in a manner of utmost distaste. Shame upon this man, Urius... or Orius... or whatever indeed was his name. Punctuality was a virtue a man must keep at heart for without it the precious time of such individuals as Caridan was wasted. Time he would not get back. Time for which the black cloak must pay.

It was at perhaps this time last week when Caridan had made the trek to this very spot himself, the warmth of the tavern and the stench of alcohol equally as overpowering then as it was this very night, to instruct a black cloaked man to do his deeds. A bargain was struck. One that hadn't yet proved beneficial to the young medic, nor was it ever intended to be. Though he hadn't made the bargain in kindness of heart, for his heart was all but kind. His customer's daughter lay sick in her bed and in exchange for a floral remedy to her illness, the man swore to bring him back certain herbs from the shore. And swear did he desperately with a fist slammed against his chest and tears in his eyes for the love of that one and only daughter who was a pretty lass indeed. T'would be a shame to let such a rose wilt.

And why should Caridan make the journey himself when a dog on the leash would gladly run it for him.

He sat there impatiently, elegantly situated in the farther most corner of the tavern, his frosty eyes impaled into the door. Golden light illuminated his lovely porcelain feature. Very still he stayed, fantasising of punishing the black cloaked man accordingly should he fail to keep his end of the bargain. One small dose of deadly poison delivered in hot tea. One small dose is all it would take. In his mind's eye Caridan watched him squirm on the floor, mouth open yet unable to even scream. Silver tears ornamenting his agonised expression.

Beside him yet somewhat off in the ambience of the inn, so close yet miles away, a jolly woman proceeded to tend to her customers. "What can I get you sir?" she asked in a merry tone. Similarly she tried approaching Caridan himself almost a half bell ago but his misty disposition soon caused her to leave him be. And in the most jubilant of ways she seemed to avoid him with as wide an arch as possible.
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