The Spot

A small tavern in the business of connecting employers with workers for odd jobs.

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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]

The Spot

Postby Verilian on April 25th, 2013, 5:39 pm

Bohir nodded as Zeke said what he was looking for, reaching behind the counter and pulling out a large ledger. He seemed to know exactly what page to flip to as he looked for the job in question, and as soon as he was there he nodded.

"That's right, friend. Nitrozians hiring performers of all types for one of their shindigs. Seventy Five gold ones for a night of work. All I need is a name, and you'll be good to go."

Once the name was given, Zeke was handed his papers of employment. He was to report to the Nitrozian household a full bell before the party so he could set up anything he needed to set up. He would be paid at the end of the night.
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The Spot

Postby Clyde Sullins on April 28th, 2013, 12:26 am

OOC: From the job given here

Job done here

IC:
57 Spring 513continued


Walking back in, Clyde headed back to the man who had given him his job.

"Hello, I finished the Glyphing job you gave me earlier today, so I am ready to be paid."

Honestly, Clyde did not really need the Mizas, he was well enough off for it to not be a huge concern. But as he had done the job, he would take the 70 gm owed him.

Once he was paid, he would head out, perhaps to spend a bit of the Mizas he had earned.

---

62 Spring 513


OOC: Translator/Scribe Needed- Crafting


IC:

It had been a bit now, but Clyde was ready to do another job. He had the day free, so why not do a bit of work. He did not need the money, but so far the work had been interesting. Hopefully the next one would be also.

Heading over to the board, he looked about. His last one, had been crafting a bunch of scrolls to hold Healing magic, at the Healing Hands.

He looked over the list, trying to see what he might be able to do. Most was not really his thing, but... He did find one thing... A translator/scribe needed. He did know how to write, and also knew the Ancient Tongue, which was the language needed for translation. Perfect.

"Hello Mr.Adams. I am back for another job. I noticed this one about the scribe needed. Could you tell me a bit more about it? I think I would like to do it."
Clydes Stuff

I am actually in RL a super intelligent hamster from Rhode Island, with a 7 year plan to take over the world.

Update 6/2/18- 1:10AM EST: His 7 year plan a success, and several weeks ahead of schedule, Clyde leaves to oversee the world he has taken over.

No new threads after end of Spring 518-Will still be checking for PM's occasionally, but focusing on a new character.

Graders note: :
Please be aware Clyde is a master Magecrafter. He therefore should not be gaining full xp(or possibly shouldn't gain any at all) for simple tasks related to this magic, such as low level MC items, particularly for repetitions of creations he has done before. Feel free to contact me if unsure of a instance of his magic use compared to his skill level.
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The Spot

Postby Verilian on April 29th, 2013, 5:14 pm

Clyde Sullins
Spring 57, 513 AV


"Got it done quick, didja? That'll help your rep here. Just give me a moment and I'll get your pay."

Bohir went into a back room, and was gone for a few chimes. When he returned it was a small, bulging pouch which he dropped on the counter in front of Clyde. The telltale sound of mizas clinking made it easy enough to guess what was inside, if for some strange reason Clyde had expected anything else.

"Feel free to count it if you want. It's all there."

Award :
Payment: 70 Gold Mizas


Clyde Sullins
62nd of Spring, 513 AV


"Ah, welcome back. The healers back at the Helping Hand said you did a great job on the scrolls, by the way. Let me just get the info on that job for you."

Bohir pulled out his large book, which apparently contained information on all, or at least most, of the jobs that were posted on the board. It took him a moment to find the page, but when he did he reached beneath the counter and rifled through something for a moment before pulling out an envelope and passing it to Clyde.

"Everything you need to know should be in there. This job isn't illegal or anything, but the client wants it to be hush hush, understand?"

The Job :
Inside the envelop is a note requesting to meet an Instructor Luvet at his office in the Institute of Higher Learning. You obviously have permission to control him for this thread. He wants you to translate a letter. Feel free to make up the specific wording, but basically, it is a letter between two Alahean mages. You can make up the main topic of the letter, but at some point it will say something along the lines of, "Oh, and the artifact was stored in the vault beneath the Old Temple north of Treval." Anyway, that's all. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
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The Spot

Postby Imass on April 29th, 2013, 7:49 pm

Spring 19 513

Garonn walked into the boat known simple as "The Spot". He heard absolutely nothing about this place, but had merely seen it walking around the city. Deciding to give the establishment a try, the Akalak walked through the door into the creaky establishment. Other than a slight sway, it wasn't even noticable that he was in a boat. It was a small room yet big enough so that the large bodied creature didn't feel cramped. There was a full bar lined with kegs and a few bottles. Wenches served foodstuff and ale. A large variety of men and women, but mostly men, sat around drinking. On a small raised area of the boat, played a human with a lute. He played a slow drinking song that no one really paid much attention to.

Already drunk off sour wine, the Knight decided not to mix the fluid with ale. Instead he took a lap around the bar and looked at the faces of the men. There were a few young lads who dared not look at him. Others were grizzled drinkers and experienced labors. They gave him disapproving looks, but not one spoke up. After all, Garonn really didn't do anything. The serving wenches winked and smiled, unafraid of any paying traveler. A few mercenery men sat alone, but paid no mind to the Akalak.

Rounding the room, the Knight found his way to the job board. Dozens of jobs where posted in the form of scrolls or parchments. All of them where written in common which made it more difficult for Garonn to sort through them. Flipping through the pages and staring at them one by one, the Knight left no word unread. Taking quiet a while at the board brought some looks. Eventualy someone approached him.

One of the tavern wenches greeted him; she was young and fair skinned. She was wearing a dark noble styled dress, "Hey there big guy, what can I get for you? Would you like an ale to start you off?" She played with her hair and smiled, seemingly unaffected by he deformed face.

Garonn just grinned and laughed, "Nay, I bring my own wine," he said in a throaty, drunken voice showing her the skin.

The girl stepped forward and touched the skin with her hand in a non-hostile manner, almost flirting, "Why don't you pour me a glass?" The Akalak smiled at her flirtatious advances and accepted, "Very well, I can give you a pour--"

Before the Akalak could do anything else, the women grabbed his arm and put a hand on his chest, "--then you can tell me about what happened to your face!" Suddenly two tables of men started laughing along with the serving wench. Garonn did not understand the joke at all. Slapping her hang away with frustration, he grabbed a missive from the board and hurried to the front of the bar, ignoring the laughter directed at him.

Holding in all his rage and anger, he slammed the note on the bar and asked the Proprietor for information. Looking Bohir Adams in the eyes he said, "Give me the information on this job before I petching murder everyone in this petching boat," The Akalak's eyes widdened and he revealed a foot of his gleaming blade, "Don't test me..." Slowly, Garonn pushed the shakedown job request forward while everyone continued laughing in the background.
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The Spot

Postby Verilian on April 29th, 2013, 10:13 pm

Bohir glanced down at the paper before giving the Akalak an inquisitive look, eyebrow raised curiously. His face quickly turned into a frown, however, and he slid the paper off the counter and pulled out his ledger.

"I'll give you a job, foreigner, but threaten a man or woman in this bar again and I'll see you strung up by the neck."

Bohir was not a dangerous man in and of himself, but he had his hand in a large number of powerful individuals pockets. He had contacts throughout the city, and there wasn't a man in the tavern that wouldn't jump to his defense, especially in the face of an outsider. He quickly flipped to the page that detailed the job, however, writing down what Imass would need to know.

"I'll need a name before I can give this to ya. Don much matter to me what it is, just something to call ya by when you get back here."

Once Imass gave a name, assuming that there was no other trouble, Bohir would hand him the paper with the job information on it. After that, he would politely offer to sell him a drink, before returning his attention to other customers.

The Job :
Okay, so the way this works is, I give you the basics, and you just run with it in a solo. So the job is pretty straightforward. Imass will go meet with a money lender, you can decide the name of the NPC, and he wants you to go shakedown a couple individuals and get to pay up. The one rule is, nobody gets hurt. If he can't get them to pay, he can at least put the fear in them. The money lender will be cross if anyone gets hurt, and extremely mad if anyone dies. Dead men do not pay debts. Once the thread is complete, just return here and request payment (with a link to the solo, of course.) Any questions, feel free to PM.
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The Spot

Postby Inoadar on May 1st, 2013, 5:46 am

48th of Spring, 513

'Not a full house tonight' Inoadar observed as he closed the door softly behind him. The Spot had plenty of available seats at a number of tables. The musician was just going through the motions, knowing the tips would be sparse anyway. Nothing technically wrong with his performance, but it was hardly "inspired".

Inoadar went to the bar and spun his stool, leaning his elbows behind him on the edge as he looked into the open common area. There was a cleared throat behind him as the barkeep indicated that it would be easier to wipe the bar clean without his bony elbows blocking the way.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I assumed that the ale you were getting me was going to be in the way anyway." Inoadar winked as he tossed a gold miza on the bar.

"Now THAT'S a mess you can feel free to make whenever you want, friend." Bohir said with a scowl that was somehow a smile as well. He scooped up the miza along with whatever needing wiping off and went to get the ale.

Alice floated by, her swaying skirt emphasizing the luscious swell of her hips, her eyes suggesting the luscious willingness of her spirit. She winked, "Nice to see you in here again, slim." She made an exaggerated spin on her heel with a tray. Inoadar followed her as she made her way past the job board.

He slipped past her and turned to put his arm across her path as though he was going to make a pass at her. In reality he was getting hold of a certain card, but they still went through the motions of a clumsy proposition and a polite but firm denial. "Well, at least you didn't slap me this time. I'm getting closer." They both chuckled.

He returned to the bar and slid the card marked "extraction" across to the barkeep in exchange for his ale. "Keep the change."
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The Spot

Postby Verilian on May 8th, 2013, 9:59 pm

Bohir traded the drink for the slip, eyeing it in the palm of his hand as he went back to serving other patrons. Inoadar would have to wait a few chimes, and Bohir appeared to be in no rush to get him the details of his job. Either it was genuine disinterest, or he was trying to keep up appearances, but after several chimes Bohir announced that he had to go into the back to retrieve some fresh mugs.

After a few more chimes the barkeep returned, setting the box of mugs down on the bar right next to Inoadar. With his hands blocked by the box, an envelop was slid across and into Inoadar's presumably waiting hand. After that, Bohir returned to business as usual, paying Inoadar no more attention unless he asked for it.

The Job :
This job will require Inoadar to travel at night to the northern shore of Lake Ravok, just east of the Kelvic Research Institution. There he will meet a man (unnamed NPC, you can make it up if you want.) The man will lead him into the Institution through a back entrance along the northern wall. He will be led to a medical examination room, where he will find a young kelvic girl (you can make up the description, animal form, ect.) The girl cannot, or will not, speak. The job is simple.. get a name out of her. Her own name. You are free to make up the exact reasons the girl will not speak, be it that she is simply terrified, or some other mental reason.

Any other information the girl gives you is up to you, but she doesn't know any super secret stuff about the Rising Dawn or anything like that. Feel free, however, to come up with a good reason she won't speak. This quest may well lead to another, so give me something fun to work with.

Oh, and if Inoadar looks around, he will find evidence that particular lab/examination room he is in is overseen by a Doctor Gaius Alzelin. The good doctor will not be joining you in the thread, however, unless he pops in during the xp award or something.
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The Spot

Postby Snouit on May 19th, 2013, 6:43 am

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Timestamp: 2nd of Spring, 513 AV

Dreadfang hadn't been in the city more than a day before she began hitting up the local taverns. She couldn't help it, it was in her nature. This particular spot, The Spot in fact, wasn't quite what she had been searching for but something drew her in and made her stay. She glanced around casually. The place was fairly low-key, with several people chatting but no loud music or cheering crowds. There was simply a bar, some tables and chairs, and a busy looking bulletin board on one wall.

Curious, Dreadfang wrapped her cloak tight around her and crept closer. There were jobs pasted up and down the board. She read through them silently. How strange, She thought, They're all different. Where most were for 50 Gold Mizas or slightly more, some only promised 25 or 30. Some were crossed off or partially ripped away. Others read things such as, "Blacksmith Needed!" or "Is my future bleak?". The one that really caught the girl's eye was a mercenary job though.

"Pest control." She read aloud. Gently, she tugged the paper away from the board. That's sounds like something I could do. And for 20 Gold Mizas per wolf pelt? I'm in!

Paper in hand, she stepped up to the bar.
"Sir, can you tell me how to sign up for job like this one?" She waved a hand impatiently. Her Common was slightly choppy; she realized this after she had already spoken. Oh well, they won't fire me just because I'm not fluent in Common. The thought was strangely reassuring. Feeling a little more confident, the Zith tugged down her hood. She flashed the bartender a bright smile and added, "I'm a good hunter, I promise you."
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The Spot

Postby Marxander on May 19th, 2013, 2:57 pm

Marxander knew that she needed money. In her few months of live she hadn't really had a need for it, but now in this big city, she did. Upon arrival, she had hear of a place called the Spot with the owner by the name of Bohir, where people do do odds and ends jobs for money. She thought it was a score.

She pushed opened the doors to the place, no one paying any real special attention to her. It was harder to tell she wasn't human if you weren't really looking. Her eyes did commonly give her anyway as a Kelvic though. The ember-blue hue was hard to miss.

She went through the crowd, mostly avoiding people. She knew that in any kind of bar, fights tended to break out due to their patrons disabled minded state. She found her place at the bar, waiting for the bartender to see her. When he did and came up to her, she smiled, canines a little more intimidating than the average person "Hello. You must be Bohir. I'm Marxander. I'm here to apply for that Special Delivery* job." The job sounded shady, but she didn't have the luxury to be all picky about it.
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The Spot

Postby Amelia Cross on May 25th, 2013, 9:30 pm

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[78th day of spring 513.a.v.]
[The Dock area]
[The Spot]
[Early morning]



More often than not, Amelia had been seen offering readings at taverns. Somehow, she just failed to make contact with people outside of those buildings. This day was much like one of those, when she wished to work, but couldn’t find a customer on the streets. This search led her to “The Spot”, a place not that far from the Slave Market. This majestic tavern was a place where Amelia hadn’t yet tried her luck. Why not do it now? Amelia wondered and stepped towards the building, if you could call it that.

As soon as she entered, Amelia felt a cozy rush go over her. Somehow, this wasn’t like the other taverns. She explored and soon enough found herself being in front of what she assumed, was an announcement desk. It had offerings of jobs all over, she was sure that she could even find notes of lost dogs if she wanted. The thought made her chuckle, up until she spotted one of the papers saying “Is my Future Bleak” the headline was intriguing and if it was indeed, what she had guessed it could be, she could gain a miza or two.

Without much hesitation, she carefully unpinned the notice from the board and toke a glance around. Looking for someone who could hold information about the job as it didn’t hold much of details on it. She didn’t spot anyone who could be a barmaid here. There for she made her way to the bartender and with a smile tried to get their attention ”Excuse me! Do you have any information about this job?” she asked.


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