RP:Adventures with Riptide

Part of the Tales from the Row Arc

LOCATION: Rynvale, Broken Barrel Inn

The laws of the land do not apply to this establishment, yet somehow there is order among chaos. Aged, abused by the weather, the Broken Barren Inn stands defiantly against the stormy shores of Rynvale just off the dock, but it is a place far from welcoming. The split, oak carved sign hangs sideways on only one chain, irony not quite lost in the words tarnished by rain. Through that open door barely sitting on it’s hinges, the light of a blazing fire reflects across a dingy interior made to look more wealthy with trinkets. The walls are covered with artifacts and cheap glamour from other worldly locations and ports; rusted weapons and sea-monster fishing lure, ship wheels, a gold-braided rope, the mounted bones of an aquatic creature with seven limbs, tapestries and carvings of various culture, and instruments that no one could know how to play. Centering all of this is Redbeard’s Maiden, herself: a sultry, golden-haired mermaid bust with red painted lips and a beckoning smile, caught in a net draped to the rafters. Mounted to the wall not far behind, a fish-like tail adorned by flawlessly painted emerald scales stretches out behind her. For every first tankard bought in the Broken Barrel she is afforded a salute, a custom that Simon, the bar’s general, has not allowed to die over the years. Dominating the center of this room is an impressive four-sided bar, flanked by booths along all ways, each lit by a hanging candelabra of worked iron. Gatherings of shady sailors and outlaws collect in groups, keeping the atmosphere noisy with harmonica and bagpipe while others plot their next dastardly scheme. While invited to venture upstairs, wandering toward the cellar door might earn you a few dirty looks.

Finn drifted into the Barrel with the careless ease of one who did not care if he was seen or not. If there was one thing to be said for the broken down joint, most folks didn’t give a rat’s arse who you were or what you were about, so long as you weren’t the law-which he definitely wasn’t. Boots were caked in a layer of mud, and the dust of a day’s travel was heavy on the brown overcoat that fell to his knees. The runner needed a drink. Padding contently at his heels, a gray wolf moved lazily, attention focused on the man walking before. Wolf, unlike his brother, was far more inclined to what might be considered ‘domestic’ interaction, and was not nearly as cranky as his darker furred sibling. The creature thus, would appear perfectly amiable as it peeled off from the runner, headed towards the spot before the fire that he had made his own in their time here. A soft huff of breath through leathern nostrils would precede the lowering of head over extended paws, as yellow eyes tracked the progress of the red haired thief to the bar. “ The island blend..” came the soft grunt from the runner, directed towards Simon. “Make it two..”

Keturah had not quite thought out her sudden decision to travel to Rynvale. Limited on gold as she was, the woman's previous night renting a room from the inn had all but drained her funds. The trousers and shirt she had acquired after her clothing was ruined the previous eve had only served to leave her coin purse empty. Her lips pursed, knee bouncing impatiently. So she would have to return home sooner than expected; it hardly mattered, she supposed. The appearance of the runner through the door's of the Broken Barrel only served to draw her eyes toward him, though she quickly bit down against her lip. The chattery creature at her side, perhaps noticing the wolf, had taken to squawking frantically at her feet, useless wings beating in desperation. Moss-green gaze fell downward, slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "What, scared of wolves?" She asked, pleasantly. The irony was hardly lost on her. Leaning over in her chair, the druidess obliged the odd little fowl by depositing him to the safety of her lap. Still the penguin kept with the racket until he had thought himself safe enough to chirp his displeasure.

Trey was currently dismissing her own tankard of the stuff, a somewhat normal looking brown fox curled up on her lap at the moment, apparently napping. It had been a rough day for the young pup, and the captain was glad to see that the thing actually had a limit to it's supply of energy. Unfortunately this was about the time the flightless nuisance of a bird by Keturah's side began it's squawking. Riptide's eyes immediately shot open, and the woman housing him could feel his muscles tighten in anticipation of a game. "Fill this up for me, will you Simon?" There is a reason Trey always sits at the bar, almost instant gratification when asking for drinks.

Finn was halfway through the act of downing the first of his drinks when the relative peace of the room- granted there was always an ever present hum of rowdy nightlife in the taproom- was shattered by a squawking that was as out of place as it was familiar. Auburn haired head began the turn that would angle his body towards the source of that racket, and in so doing, gold flecked gaze would sweep over the other redhead who lingered at the bar. Shot glass would be tipped in recognition of the face. “ Been a while captain..” the drawl would come. At least this time he knew who she was. Memory of prior meeting might have been embarrassing, if one were inclined to such sentiment-which he wasn’t. Hazel gaze continued then on its journey, coming to rest upon the penguin settled in the lap of the female, before flitting to the now alert and raised head of Wolf in his fireside retreat. “ He’s harmless as a lamb really, no need for the critter to get all riled up.” He noted her lack of a drink. “ Have one on me..to make up for..that.” Tanned hand would flicker the way of the bird.

Trey tips her refilled tankard in reply to Finn's greeting, trying to ignore the sudden weightlessness of her lap. Riptide, being the young and curious hunter that he is, had nimbly left from the woman's lap and crouched down to stalk his new 'prey'. Once on the ground, his features are more discernible. Though his coat is a dark brown, blue markings cover him periodically, almost like tribal tattoos, though his coloring is not the strangest part of him. That title is reserved for the rather obvious shark-like tail protruding from his hindside. It is currently wagging back and forth slowly as he sneaks inch by inch closer to the bird.

Keturah could do nothing more than send apologetic looks toward the other patrons, arms wrapping tighter around the squat body of the creature she held. "You're going to get eaten." The warning was softly spoken, and hardly sounded genuine. It mightn't have been such a bad thing, she decided inwardly, shadowed stare resting on the back of the chirping bird. Biting against her bottom lip, the woman was nearly inclined to take her leave, as quietly as she could still manage. Eyes flickered toward the doorway. The words directed toward her, however, brought the petite woman's stare back toward the bar. Gaze shifted briefly between the captain and the runner, before the lycan's attention turned fully to the male. Finn was offered a smile at last, as well as a nod of greetings before she replied. "Not your fault." She tilted her head toward the penguin in her lap. "He's annoying." As if to prove her point, Haerion riled, wings beating against the girl's arms before he cocked his head so that he might stare at the creeping fox kit- the creature whom Keturah had failed to notice. Her grip on him only tightened further, and she shook her head, continuing on cheerily. "I appreciate it though."

Wolf was, for all intents and purposes domesticated. But could anyone -really- blame the gray for reacting to the sight of fox on the prowl for the large and rather odd smelling, loud thing, that was held by the one who smelled of wolf, but did not look it? The bombardment on lupine senses was almost too much, and the gray rose up onto his haunches, and then to all fours, before beginning to inch his way towards the other pair of animals, nostrils flaring in hardly contained curiosity. It was the quiet command of the runner alone, that stopped him dead in his tracks. “ Heel Wolf. Find your entertainment somewhere else lad.” Wolf swung a lean head in Finn’s direction, as if to say -Really? But already he was headed to a spot beneath the smuggler’s chair, yellow eyes fixed on the scene that was unfolding in front of him. A quiet signal to the barkeep would find a tankard of ale delivered to the lycan’s table, and oddly enough, something a little stronger slid across the rough bar top to Trey. Finn offered the red head a wink, and a flash of white, acknowledgement of the fact that she was made of harder stuff. “ We’ll be needin’ to talk business soon lass..” This low enough to avoid the hearing of most ears, though not perhaps, those of the lycan present-even if he was unaware of what she was. Attention was snared then, by the unfolding drama and puzzled frown would find its way to knitting the tanned forehead. “ What is it anyway..where’d you find the thing?..”

Trey 's newly found acquaintance creeps closer and closer to Keturah and her penguin, the soft padding on his paws making his movement practically inaudible, and the swaying of his tail giving him the further predatorial look. The ginger at the bar quite happily takes the drink, turning to acknowledge Finn once more, "We shall, then. I'll look forward to it." When Riptide gets only feet away from the pair, the fox pup sinks even lower to the ground, coils his legs, and with a great leap, plows into Keturah's arm, where the flightless bird is being held captive. A few playful snaps of his jaw in the direction of Haerion, which could easily be seen as hostile, invite the bird to react.

The sudden parting of the hinged portal to this particular threshold is key -all eyes upon center, enter stage middle, and forward steps the massive, armored, and cloth-bound frame of Nizien. Each boot is heavy, falling upon the floorboards in a distinct pace that is haunting, and certainly imposing, as if the true authority here, despite lack of position. All about his figure are adorned weapons, from short swords to long swords, daggers to bows, arrows to even a mace. All to stand about his body, as his eyes glower menacingly from beneath the ridges of his brows, his left side of his face lined with a single slash of a scar.

Keturah had credited the bird's panic to the wolf, and taking note of the creature's increase of interest, moss-green gaze strayed toward him. She had the sudden, sharp urge to turn, and quickly bit against her bottom lip, tearing her eyes away. She would not quite miss the words spoken between Finn and the captain, but perhaps, in better judgment chose to ignore her own curiosity. Hearing, before seeing the entrance of yet another patron to the Inn, the druid turned her attention briefly to the rather imposing figure at the door. Finding a drink upon her table as she looked back toward Finn, the druidess could only smile and shrug. "It's a bird, right?" She tilted her head, as though puzzled. No one seemed to know what the thing actually was. "He was-" Here her words were cut short by sudden assault on the bird, who had quickly fallen against the ground with a thud. Shrill squawks filled the tavern, and as quickly as his fat little body could manage, Haerion waddled away from his attacker. Keturah stood, rubbing her arm and following after. The bird was more trouble than he was worth.

Finn nodded in distracted agreement with the ginger’s response. He needed a very particular set of cargo moved from Gualon, and his other resources were tied up at the moment. He’d make it a point to seek her out when things were not nearly so..active. And it seemed about to get more so. He felt it before he became aware of Nizien’s presence, the ripple of unease that flowed through the room, and gold flecked eyes raised to seek the source of the discomfiture. The runner’s gaze narrowed as they fell upon the over abundance of weaponry that covered the behemoth of a man who stood in the doorway. No wonder the patrons were edgy. In the world of pirates and smugglers, sailors and whores, stealth was preferred to brazen announcement of intent and ability. To appear so decked out was to invite trouble..or avoid it completely. It would remain to be seen which route the stranger would take. Idle thought was disrupted however, by the reply of the woman, and the plight of her bird, thing, a snort of laughter escaping the runner unbidden. “ Aye, it has wings, so it’s a bird-a fat one too. Why don’t you have it killed? Looks like it’d be good for eatin.’” Ever practical, it would not occur to the smuggler that such an odd thing might actually be retained for a pet.

Nizien , on the contrary to inviting trouble, does indeed avoid it completely. Like a river breaking on some mammoth boulder, patrons and staff alike offer the man a wide berth of room with every distinct, heavy, and authoritive step that he takes, his glower more than enough to send a couple of patrons shaking at the knees. Step, step, step, step continues his path, unhindered, and parting drunk and sober alike to scramble out of the armed behemoth's way.

Trey notices Nizien's presence, but quite successfully ignores it. The woman had stopped being intimidated by most of everything a long time ago. Still, any cheery air she previously gave was now gone, leaving her ready for a fight if one broke out. The fox pup on the other hand was completely in his own little world. The reaction of his newfound friend, running away when Riptide only wanted to play, disheartens the creature. Ears drooping and tail ceasing to wag. The shark-tailed fox lies on his stomach, paws under his maw, and lets out a short burst of heart retching whines. To complement the poor thing's sadness, the generally soft lapping of waves outside grew harsher and audible from the tavern.

Keturah hardly cared what sort of sight she made as she stalked after fox and bird alike. Haerion seemed to be doing well just to keep his balance as webbed feet pounded against the wooden floors of the inn, wings held out so as to avoid the pesky problem of stumbling. The bird hardly noticed that the other had halted its chase. The woman herself gave only a brief pause, gaze again drifting toward the door at the sounds of the harsher weather outside. Biting her lip, the brunette grimaced and brought her focus back to the matter at hand. "I'm tempted to eat him." The agreement was made with a short nod, pace quickening so as to catch up with the little one. It was in this manner that the lycaness nearly collided with the towering male, bare feet coming to a skidding stop and hands held out before her. "So many sharp things," she commented airily, sidestepping the dark clad man. "Bodily harm could be caused by only just a bump, yes?" The penguin, who had by then managed to secure himself a hiding place beneath a nearly unoccupied table had wisely decided to stay quiet whilst the druidess spoke with the sailors who had made roost there. Kneeling down, the lycaness sent the little creature a glare. "Now, come along, no? Nothing is chasing you, you terrible thing. All this fuss."

Finn had just downed his second drink when the restless sounds of a gathering storm crept into his consciousness-or at least he assumed it was a gathering storm. It would take winds of considerable strength to whip the waters of the typically staid harbor into audible activity. A frown knit the tanned brow as he spared a thought for Rekkur, tied up loosely to hitch just beyond the doors of the Inn. The horse should be safe enough, provided that lightning did not start up. Still, he should be giving some thought to finding cover for the night if the weather was going to turn ugly. Hazel gaze travelled to the fox at the pirate captain’s feet, and something tugged at his memory. “ It’s not the one you had before..twas, some kind of rodent, aye? Crawlin’ all over you,” he would mutter her way. Not that it was any of the runner’s business, or that he even cared. His was just an observant nature, and one that didn’t like unanswered questions. Sudden movement of the part of the lycan would draw his attention again, and though he would spare no breath in response to her admission of temptation, muscles tensed beneath dark overcoat on her behalf, as he witnessed her unintentional almost assault of Nizien’s person. There was no guarantee that the man would not take offense and engage in some hostile reaction, and the runner found, surprisingly, that he was more than willing to leap to her rescue should the need arise.

Trey releases any tension she may have previously housed and spins on her stool to face Finn. "Aye, that's right. That ferret's been avoiding me for quite some time now. This one and I just met about a week ago and let me tell you, he's a handful." A cautious eye is kept on the whining pup, who begins to inch forward towards the bird and lycan, giving a woeful yip every foot or so, tail dragging on the floor in a devastated droop. "He really enjoys playing, and doesn't like it when people don't play back, ah..." The woman pushes back a lock of hair from her eyes, it was getting time to trim the mane again, it seemed. The captain still isn't sure about what to do with the fox's depression at the moment. If she went to make him content, it was doubtful it would work. He wants to play with the bird, not a human. The soft falling of rain can be heard drumming on the Barrel's roof now, and ships moored at the harbor begin creaking as they rock to and fro with the seas gathering ferocity. "Excuse me," a decision had to be made, and Trey quickly gets up from her sitting place, abandoning her drink in quite an uncharacteristic move. "You there, with the penguin." Riptide turned his head to look at his owner, whining in her direction now as if asking for help. "I suggest you convince your pet to come out and play. Rip's not used to not getting things."

Keturah , intent on procuring the penguin from his hiding place, hardly paid any mind to the apparent storm shaping outside. If she had paid mind, the lycaness might have been more keen on leaving the inn to find shelter for the night; after all, she would hardly be able to pay for the ferry back to the mainland as it was, let alone rent her room again. Clicking her tongue against her teeth the woman even ignored the stare set on her person by the man she had nearly collided with. When she had finally coaxed the bird forward enough to make a grab for him, the brunette pulled him toward her and slid back to sit cross-legged on the floor with the penguin once again in her lap. Trey's words were met with a puzzled stare. "What's a-" she paused, closing her mouth. So, the odd bird thing was a penguin, was it? Not that the name meant much more to her than 'odd-little-bird-thing'. Her arm slipped around the flightless bird's fat little body, eyes coming to rest upon the fox plaintively. "I don't believe the child wants to play, yes?" As if in agreement, the penguin began chattering again, squawking quietly as the other creature approached. Suppressing a groan, the druidess placed her chin atop the bird's head; Boss had never been so much trouble. Nor, for the dog's size had he ever drawn such an amount of attention to himself. Her heart ached, and with furrowed brows, the woman pushed the penguin gently off her lap, only to have him cowering under the table a moment later.

Gold flecked gaze lifted towards the ceiling as the steady sound of rainfall beat a rhythm against the roof of the tavern. That would be his cue. A little wind he would not mind leaving Rekkur to deal with, but leaving the Black out in the elements exposed during a storm-especially after a hard day of riding, was out of the question. It was time he and his menagerie got on out of here. A soft cluck of the tongue would provoke a sleepy yawn from the gray, and a slow rise up on to four legs, yellow eyes falling expectantly upon the red headed thief. They were going home? It was about time, he was hungry. The runner unfolded from his seat, sliding gold pieces across the bar top Simon’s way in payment for all of the drinks ordered this eve. He spared a glance for the rather peculiar scene unfolding, the woman on the ground, looking quite desolate and the – penguin- cowering beneath the tables. To top it all off, the hard as nails captain seemed unduly concerned with the wishes of a pup. It was altogether too strange. He shook his head as he moved across the room, passing near the seated lycan. “Sound’s like it’ll get bad out there, don’t rekon it’d make sense for you to travel tonight, if you were plannin’ to. Spend the night..I’ll cover the tab.” Why he assumed that she as not a local, he wasn’t entirely sure, or of why he was suddenly convinced that she was short of funds. A nod was directed Simon’s way. “ Set her up with a room, aye?.. It’s on me.” The lazy drawl penetrated the bustle of the room to reach the inn keep’s ears, and with a final nod both women’s way, the runner and his companion would move purposefully across the room, to disappear through the rickety doors and into the increasingly tempestuous night beyond.

Trey understood completely, and apparently so did the fox. Instead of the sad backwards direction of his ears, they flattened to his skull. The predatory tail straightened as he stood, and sad, woeful whines were replaced with a type of foxy growl. The pocket-fox was done trying to play, and darted through the door, which was easy since it is in such disrepair. Heavy rains poured down now, washing the ground from its imperfections. "I'm sorry but, I need to go. I really don't feel like loosing Mutiny." A string of curses follow behind the pirate as she bursts out the door after the pet.

Trey exits south.

Trey shouted, "Rip! You turn that off right now!"

Keturah had taken dull notice of the rain, her own browline knit together with thought. No place to stay, and certainly no ferries would be traveling in this weather. Chewing against her lip, the druidess could only watch as the captain took her swift departure. Haerion, likely thankful for the disappearance of the fox, waddled from his hiding place and pecked sharply at the woman's hand. Wincing, the brunette pulled her hand away, gaze drawn upward to meet Finn's. "Ah.." The gift of a room for the night was accepted with a sheepish nod. "Thank you, again, Finn. Really." Her injured hand moved to rub the back of her neck, eyes following after the runner and his wolf before they had disappeared into the storm. Keturah glanced toward Haerion, clicking her tongue against the back of her teeth. "You're troublesome, you know that?" With a sigh, she stood and dusted off her pants, heading back to her room with a waddling, chirping penguin in tow.