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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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Here's to Alcohol

Postby Shakune on March 6th, 2015, 1:12 pm

Here's to Alcohol.
15th Spring, 515AV

The Drunken Fish was full with the usual sort of folk; namely sailors, but also other drunk that found their homes on land rather than at sea. One such individual was Shakune. She lounged comfortably in a wooden seat, her feet propped up by an empty stool, and a half-empty tankard of ale in her hands. The courier seemed quite at home in the tavern, in amongst her sailor companions, but her appearance suggested otherwise. Her copper skin and black hair would make most instantly think of the desert, not the ocean. But her most astounding features were her pitless black eyes, devoid of pupil, iris or sclera. They appeared blind, but Shakune could see perfectly well. Indeed, her attention would snap up to whomever entered the tavern as she investigated his or her face.

A wave of raucous laughter erupted through her group of friends, and Shakune joined in whole-heartedly, slapping her leg and elbowing the hair-looking fellow to her left. They had survived the harsh winter, and as such were celebrating by telling each other hilarious stories from the previous season. One male, the one who everyone seemed to be now laughing at, was midway through his tale: "And I swear to the bloody Gods, my cock was frozen half-way in. I nearly died of hypothermia!"

More laughter. Another man - the group consisted of five men and two women, Shakune included - clasped his friend on the shoulder and state: "Aye, but what a way to die... Balls deep in Sasha Brigone!"

Shakune even joined in with this laughter, despite the fact she could think of endless better ways to die than by freezing to death whilst having sex with Sasha Brigone. The woman they spoke about was as dumb as a spoon, but Shakune could see the sexual appeal: big breasts, wide hips, no gag reflex... The perfect woman, according her rag-tag group of friends.

"Never mind your near death experience, Pete." She stated with a mini-cheers to her friend, "I say the best two reasons to get drunk tonight are as follows: For the first time since the end of the bloody season, I can walk-" this declaration was meant with claps and cries from her friends, who all seemed to share her enthusiasm, "and more importantly, by the turn of the turn of this season, No Questions Couriers will be open. I got the loan!"

Again her friends cheered, even more noisily and eagerly as before. As Shakune had implied, the Spring had began with her being wounded to the point where she had almost been crippled. But the slice down her calf was healing well now, and she had gotten over the subsequent infection. All the more important, in the black eyes of the courier, was the fact that Sunberth’s Loan Shark had approved her. Goldfinger was loaning her enough money to open her own courier business. After days, seasons, years planning, her ambition was finally coming to light.

First Sunberth, and then the rest of this petching world.

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Shakune
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Here's to Alcohol

Postby Thalrick on March 6th, 2015, 9:57 pm

The Drunken Fish. Not a familiar tavern to Thalrick, but a tavern all the same. It smelt like a tavern would; all cheap food, ale, blood and vomit. It looked like any tavern would; booths of wooden chairs, men brawling, men drinking, men playing drinking games, long, crude oak tables filled with rowdy drunks, a barkeeper who was as likely to draw his sword on someone too-intoxicated as he was to serve them, and amidst it all, the small trio of musicians playing away at their harp and fiddles, singing a song that was lost beneath the rowdy clamour of the place. As Thalrick entered the music was the first thing that rung his ears, the trio had been playing Sunberth o' Sunberth, a tune played all too commonly in the city.

Sweet as the morning,
But as dark as the night,
She came to me, all shook and fright,
But I told her 'don't worry'
She'd got in a chase
Sunberth o' Sunberth,
You can't be replaced


He did not even know what the tune was about; only that it was something to do with a man comforting his wife after she had been chased around the city by thugs, brigands, gangs or something of the sort. And they were aplenty inside Sunberth, Thalrick had found since his arrival in the winter. He could not count the amount of times they'd tried to rob him of all his mizas, and the amount of times more that he sent them all back with empty hands and a finger less. He was at The Drunken Fish in accordance with an anonymous letter, one that had told him to be there on that very day, at that very hour. It had taken him a fair amount of time to find the place, for Sunberth was large, and the tavern was not.

Where is this petchin' ''Lucky Donald''? He thought, scanning around the tavern. Faces were indistinguishable amidst the merrymaking, as they were all blurred into one drunken portrait before him. He began moving through the tavern slowly, eyes scanning for his target. Some men made a note of never seeing him there before, but one look from Thalrick and they seemed to no longer care. He walked by a man speaking of losing his genitals to hypothermia, then shortly after saw a woman toast over her newly-started courier business. Thalrick gave her a glance, and noticed her eyes were as black as the night outside. How curious. . . He had never seen eyes so dark before, nor a face like hers. She was beautiful to him, but it was the eyes that truly riveted.

I cannot speak, not now. I am on business. He forced himself to keep walking, squeezing through the sweaty bodies until he found his way to the barkeep. ''A flagon, if you would.'' He said drily, sliding two mizas across the bench. The barkeep snatched them up happily, poured ale into a flagon, and slid it back over to Thalrick. He wrapped his hands around it and pulled it to his lips, revelling every drop until it was all gone. It had been too long since he had drunk. There had been other things on his agenda, things that outweighed a few flagons of alcohol and the good night that was bound to follow.

''Another flagon, good man.'' He said, slightly happier this time. Always waiting. . .
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Here's to Alcohol

Postby Shakune on March 10th, 2015, 12:06 pm

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Her companions all began to sing, tunelessly and slurred, with their arms around each other's necks as they swayed left and right in time to the band's music. The half-breed laughed at them all, though seemed too fixated on her ale to join in with such musical merriment. She finished the drink off, wiping its creamy froth off her top lip with the back of her hand.

More!

There was no shadow of a doubt in Shakune's mind regarding this decision. The night would end with her stumbling back home - preferably not alone - and sleeping in until way past midday tomorrow. Oh, she would no doubt have a hellish hang over, but that was all part and parcel of the drunkenness. Plus, as she had declared earlier, tonight was the first time since winter that Shakaune had been free of injury, though the scar down her right calf certainly carried the memories of her traumatic experience. But now wasn't the time for such depressing thoughts. Now is the time for alcohol for getting drunk.

She stood up, somewhat clumsily, and slid her way past the drunken crowds and towards the bar. Someone laid a firm hand on her backside, but the courier paid no mind to such attention; in fact, she took it as quite the compliment.

The barkeep greeted her with a knowing grin and a raised eyebrow. Shakune only ever approached the bar one thing, and one thing only: more alcohol. "Yes, it is going to be one of those nights." The half-breed promised him as the haggard male poured out another flagon of ale. Sliding the coins across to him, Shakune raised her tankard in a toast to the barkeep, the woman to her left, also to the man on her right. In fact, the latter earned a second glance from the half-breed. She did not recognise the male, but appreciated the ruggedness of his appearance. Lewd images flashed across her hot mind, and Shakune gulped down her drink with a smirk.

"You look like you need entertaining." She stated simply to the male, twisting so she stood facing him. Her tongue curved to the foam on the corner of her top lip, lapping it up and swallowing it down. Each movement and word dripped with clear, dangerous, and sexual intent. "Fortunately for you I'm a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to entertainment."
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Here's to Alcohol

Postby Thalrick on March 11th, 2015, 8:01 am

''Another, please.'' Thalrick said drily. He was slowly becoming drunk, but that only made his mood more sombre. He had been waiting for things all his life; freedom, safety, revenge. He did not want to be stuck in a tavern full of strangers, waiting more than he had to. He quickly began to wonder if the letter had even been real, but then that could of just been the cider playing little illusions on his common sense. No, the letter was real, I felt it in my own hands, and read it with my own eyes . . I am supposed to be here, and I am supposed to be here now. He wished he had brought it with him, just for the comfort of reassuring it's existence. No, the letter was well and truly not a figment of his imagination. It was this petching Lucky Donald fellow who was the problem.

Through hazy vision that made one seem two, Thalrick tilted his head around, and took in his surroundings. There were roughly sixty men drinking and singing and fighting inside the establishment, but he cut that number in half and blamed his current state. Thirty people, there were thirty. Some men were small and wiry, scrawny and gaunt, and others were big and broad, with crooked noses and spade shaped beards of all different colours. Those men looked like they could crush a skull in one hand. He would not go near those men. The inn was musty when he thought about it, a smell that once noticed, could not go unnoticed. It smelt like rain, but then it smelt like tar and manure. There was so many aromas about the place, and not a single one was worth smelling. He had to hold back some bile at the thought.

''Another,'' Thalrick tried to asked politely, but tossed enough coin to pay for it at the bartender like he was slinging rocks at a scarecrow. The gruff man gave him a grunt, and then gave him his next cider. ''Slow down, lad.'' He said stiffly, before waddling up the bar to serve another. It was true, he could not even recall the amount of flagons he had; but nor did he really care. It had been a long while since he drunk last, he felt deserving of a dizzy head and failing reflexes. Judging by the empty wooden flagons in front of him he had drank ten, no, five. . . He did not care to count, as all attention averted to the woman to his left. The inn was loud and rowdy, but her words cut the air like a knife.

''You look like you need entertaining.'' She said to him, and Thalrick wondered how bored and weary he really looked, sitting there all hunched and lonely. Do I look so lonely? He thought, twisting his neck around so he could get a better look of her. Half of him wanted to speak to the beautiful black-eyed woman, but the other half wanted to fill his throat with cider so he could not do anything to embarrass himself. When he thought about it hard enough, he did need entertaining. I'm here on business, not idle chatter. Still, idle chatter had never looked more enticing than at that moment. And the woman, well . . . That was a different matter entirely. . .

''Waiting is a wooden way to spend time, some say. Mayhap you could wait with me? Please, take a seat.'' He said invitingly. Thalrick raised his flagon in a toast and then pushed along the stool beside him so it was closer to her.
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Here's to Alcohol

Postby Shakune on March 14th, 2015, 2:14 pm

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Shakune struggled to keep her mind clear. Her thoughts were jumbled, foggy. But overall, she was in a good mood. How long had she been drinking? It had been light outside when she had started, and it was certainly dark now. Or was it? She glanced out of the window, but her vision was furry and made everyone else seem to move in slow motion. She watched an ugly bearded fellow explode in laughter, raining spittle and ale onto the table below his bellow. The droplets of liquid fell leisurely downwards, slow and rippling.

Her black eyes returned to the male beside her, and she drank his appearance in hungrily like a jaguar eyeing up its prey. Perhaps if she was sober, her loins would not be burning quite so intensely for this stranger, who seemed to personify just the right balance between mood and sociable. Let me crack open that hard shell of yours, she thought lewdly, and I'll let you touch my pearl. The simile would have been actually quite beautiful had Shakune not been too busy trying to think how to slip into their premature conversation that she had next to no gag reflex.

"I'll wait with you." She slurred in response, sliding somewhat (un)elegantly onto the stool he had kicked towards her. Now seated, Shakune returned her attention to the flagon of ale, and she raised it up in a return toast before drinking deeply. The creamy liquid spread warmly down her gullet, into her stomach. She sighed contently as she swallowed down the mealy taste. Oh, how she loved her ale.

"So," she began, crossing her legs and ensuring her right food brushed against his thigh, "what are we waiting for?" Shakune ran a fingertip across the top of her flagon, collecting the excess froth from the top before sliding it between her lips. A dangerous smirk flashed across her lips, "and how long do we have to wait for before I can choose our next activity?" She had made the blatant assumption that her invitation - because it would be more than obvious what activity she had alluded to - would not be rejected. She was ambitious woman, with an impressively active sex life and no-hold-back attitude. In fact another woman, whose breasts were so large they almost spilled right out of the top she wore, momentarily distracted Shakune’s attention. The half-breed's lingering gaze would lead nothing to the imagination, should Thalrick take note of it.

"Perhaps she can think of a game for us all?", she suggested casually with another sip of her ale.
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Shakune
I drive a hard bargain.
 
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Here's to Alcohol

Postby Sayana on July 10th, 2015, 12:39 am

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Shakune

Skills:
Skill EXP
Observation +3
Rhetoric +1
Socialization +2
Leadership +1
Seduction +2
Flirting +1


Lores:
  • Approved loan from Goldfinger
  • Seduction: Casually make physical contact

Ledger :
Deduct 8cm for the two mugs of ale Shakune had (one she started with and one she bought).


Comments :
Too bad this thread didn’t get off the ground. It was still nice to read Shakune’s success with Goldfinger’s loan and how she spends her time with her friends.


Thalrick

Comments :
Thalrick, if you return, make sure you update your CS (ledger and intervention) and then PM me for your grades.


Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request in the grade request thread.

If you have any questions or concerns about your grade please feel free to send me a message (like really, I’m all ears if you feel like I missed something).

Enjoy.
---

**Available via PM (generally) but looking to tie up loose ends. (Feb 15)

0/2 Solos ----- 1/2 Modded Quests ----- 3/5 PC Threads ----- 1/1 GST Thread (to grade)
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