RP:Just Another Day In The Hanging Corpse

From HollowWiki

Synopsis: It's a lot of drinking and cheery faces as usual in the HTC.


The Hanging Corpse Tavern

Artia entered, no cloak hiding her attire of an beaded dress has a high neckline, allowing her crest of Dragana pendent to show overtop the fabric. A straight firm fitting skirt with a slit at the side for effortless movement. Sequin beading shines throughout the entirety of this dress she picked for the tavern tonight. A deep v-back reveals her tattoo of a tree with each element symbol burnt into her back. Having come early to speak with those that wish to be freely feed from, and to keep an eye upon them to make sure other vampires didn’t bleed them out to the point of death. A bard was hired for this evening, who sat at the piano playing upbeat music for those that wanted to enjoy music and company of others they might not know till tonight or long-lost friends. Once was shorted out, she pinned a side of her hair to have one side of her hair up off face and neck. Sitting upon a table alone for now, as a bottle of whiskey and shot glass was brought to her.


Dyraxdiin enters the historical Hanging Corpse alike any of the other patrons, presumably - that is to say, by way of two feet. The great wyrm is disguised in his typical human form, complete with mithril half-plate and gray robes, as is his standard. Blue eyes casually take in those gathered while armored boots carry him towards the bar with an easy cadance. "Whiskey, neat," He states in his deep, reserved tone. Steadman places a glass down before Dyraxdiin and selects a bottle - top shelf only, if you will - and pours the glass. At this point, the mage exchanges coin for drink and he finds himself wandering over to a rather comfortable looking chair nestled close to the hearth. For the time being, Dyraxdiin remains a captive audience of the laughing goblin's head, nursing his drink and occasionally exchanging passing glances with the other patrons.


Lhyrin // Stalking prey had always been Lhyrin’s favorite part of the hunt. So much so that after their brief stay in Cenril, they’d moved on elsewhere, to find more of said prey. Here, within the Hanging Corpse, was where Lhyrin found themself, observing, waiting, considering. Sharp, gaunt features poked out from beneath the forsaken elf’s black leather hood, equally dark and stormy eyes taking in the elf’s surroundings. The dark, dismal atmosphere of Vailkrin reminded Lhyrin of the forests in Vhys; it calmed them, helped them to concentrate better. Water and a bit of stew was on the menu for tonight for the black-clad ranger, their back flush against the wall, their posture as straight as an arrow, the elf seated sideways in the chair, the position allowing them to view as much of the tavern as possible at once.


Artia poured her first shot for the night, watching the door as other came inside. Watching Dyraxdiin move through and past her table to enjoy the warmth that could be offered, and a female moving up to him offering him a drink. Artia shaking her head as these girls should learn how to tell the vampires from the living. Giving a nod to Lhyrin once the person found a spot and their eyes looked past her.


Nadine shoves open the door to the establishment, unceremoniously announcing her entrance with a stumbling step toward the bar. The ranger's bow and quiver bounce against her back, reminding her of their presence as she adopts one of the stools as her own. Garbed in black leathers--just like Lhyrin actually, what a coincidence!--the woman reaches up to draw the cowl of her cloak downward, revealing ebon ringlets and verdant eyes. To Steadmen, she orders: "Rum! Lots of it."


Ayras : The door opened and shut to allow patrons passage, as was all good and natural for a tavern. People came and went, some sat and observed, some sulked on their lonesome. No door opened for one particular patron, though. The hearth, it cast shadows across seats nearby. Most seats faced towards the fire, but one, likely adjusted by a previous patron earlier in the day, sat with the flames to its side. The light cast by the goblin-faced centerpiece threw long, deep shadows across that one, particular chair. It was from these shadows that a pair of arms burst forth, long and sinewy, capped by a pair of slender, jagged-clawed hands. These arms, they stretched up and up until they bent to wrap those ghastly digits around the armrests of the chair, pushing to pull the rest of its body upward. A gruesome face of shadow and fangs erupted from the chair, followed by a long, too-thin torso, all made of living shadow-stuff. More and more body came out from the chair, but as it did it shifted to the body of a tall, redheaded woman, already in a seated position, reclined with legs crossed at the knees. Those shadows, they began to withdraw, sinking into the freakishly tall elf-woman until she was all that remained. She was armed with nothing more than a book, for once, her typical great sword left behind at the gods knew where, and it was this book that her attention was set on. What she was reading was anyone's guess; the cover was settled on her legs. Any who looked at the pages, however, would see words of unholy origin, spells and prayers that belonged to followers of some dark deity.


Lhyrin went about their meal casually, not quite in a hurry to finish. If it went cold, it went cold. Such was the way of things. Lhyrin’s attention stopped on Artia momentarily, a side-tilt of their head given to the vampire; it wasn’t exactly a gesture of greeting, but more a ‘what in the name of Vakmathras are you doing?’. Just what was the point of a vampire drinking alcohol, they wondered? Such intricacies were lost on Lhyrin. A smirk played upon the elf’s lips as they spot Nadine and her failure to remove her bow before sitting. Lhyrin’s own yew bow was tucked neatly between the table and the wall, accompanied by its partner-in-crime, the quiver. Focus was given now to the meal before the elf, so much so that their thin body turned to face the table finally, and a bored sigh uttered into their bowl.


Artia ’s cyan blues spotted Nadine and offered her a smile, only for her attention to be pulled over to the shadows upon the chair. Watching it, watching it form into Ayras. Lofting a red brow as the female was materialized and reading a book. Ayras truly read? Learn something knew often about those you thought you knew for years. Climbing out of her chair, bringing the whiskey and shot glass with her to join Nadine. “Hi there.” She says gently, not wanting to startle the female. Meanwhile taking a biscuit and tossing it towards Ayras.


Nadine remembers her bow after the fact (thank you Lhyrin), mostly because it's quite awkward sitting on the stool with it still there. She unfastens it carefully, doing her best not to fall from her seat, and then lowers it, shaking her head and tsking at herself. The rum arrives and the lycan eagerly grasps it, taking a long pull from the glass.


Nadine turns her head, wide-eyed, to focus on Artia. "Uh, howdy," she breathes, and clearly she is startled. Her head tilts slightly to the side, lips pressing into a nervous line for a moment before puffing out. "Hi."


Lhyrin pushed their bowl away once the stew had been finished, allowing whatever member of the waitstaff that was available to take it. The former position is resumed, with Lhyrin’s back against the wall, and this time, arms find themselves crossing over the elf’s chest. “You disrespect your weapon,” the elf said at length, their voice neither fully masculine nor feminine, but somewhere in between, and nearly bordering on the monotone. “Do you have no sense of pride in something that should be an extension of yourself? You might as well not have any pride in yourself.” The statements and question were issued to Nadine, of course, for she was the only one here at the moment that the elf have any sort of connection to--that being that they were both clearly rangers.


Ayras had a biscuit collide with her head and fall onto her book, crumbs getting just -everywhere-. She blinked a few times and gave a huff before she blew the mess from the pages and set the biscuit aside, closing the book's black cover. Metal fingers ran through hair the color of rubies, straightening out the disturbance the biscuit had made on her head as both hair was adjusted and more, larger crumbs fell onto her chair. A sigh was heaved as she rose to her feet to make her way towards the bar. For once, she wasn't decked out in her armor, instead wearing a shoulderless dress that went halfway down her thighs, a pair of knee-high, heeled boots, and a pair of leggings, all as black as the shadows she emerged from. "Wine," she requested after drumming her mechanical fingers on the bartop to garner Steadmen's attention. She took no seat, so Vakmatharas only knew if she was going to remain at the bar or not.


Dyraxdiin finishes his drink with a final gulp and then places the glass down on the end table next to his chair. Shortly thereafter, he rises from his chosen seat and makes his way to the exit, opting to return to the guild and tend to some over-due work.


Nadine turns her head, verdant eyes regarding Lhyrin silently. What's she to say to them? They aren't wrong. Her lips again press into a thin line and the ranger wonders if perhaps she's in a place she shouldn't be. It's clear, with that look, that she's already drunk. Likely she was so before she entered. "I-I'm sorry?" she says in reply, blinking at them a time or two. "I forgot I had it with me tonight."


Artia ordered Nadine another drink, "Hey, sorry didn't mean to disturb you. Let me get you another refill on me okay." Turning her attention over to Ayras, looking the female up and down as she wasn't in the normal armor attire. She wore a dress that Artia might had worn, Ayras had good taste. "Enjoying your book love?" She asked to Ayras.


Ayras handed over the required coin as her drink was delivered, dipping her head in gratitude to Steadmen. It was as she took her first sip that she heard Artia, and those rings of silver in pools of black that she called eyes shifted towards the woman, eyebrows raised. "I wouldn't quite say enjoying," she said with a shrug. "To serve a god, one must know their tenants. That's what that book is; doctrine and spells of Vakmatharas' priests."


Lhyrin sneered at Nadine. Once again, it seemed Lhyrin was a more superior hunter. Time and time again, others amongst Ryeanna’s forsaken elves tried to best Lhyrin, and they all failed miserably. But this one, this girl, really took the cake. Lhyrin didn’t even have to fight Nadine to know they’re better! “Forget? How does one forget about something as important as their bow? Perhaps that drink has dulled your senses in more ways than one.” The smirk remained planted on that gaunt face, malice in the elf’s tone, “Do enlighten me. Please.”


Artia looked to Nadine, "You been under stress lately, things happen to distract yourself at times. Don't stress so much, when so upset go to a place that helps you recenter." Glancing towards Lhyrin with a stern expression before looking back to Ayras, "I use to serve him and another goddess, I use to study alot of the diety in this land. Books are grand, but you should study within the temple sometime."


Joan boots in the tavern door before she strolls in, hands jam into her pants pockets as the vampire merchant makes her entrance. She sniffs once as she shakes off the snow flakes that fell upon her on her travel here from the Kelay Tavern.


Nadine eagerly takes the free drink. After all, it's free and it's booze and Nadine is an alcoholic. Just as she brings the rim of the cup to her mouth, Lhyrin speaks again and the malice in their tone sends a shiver down her spine. Okay, so maybe she should have gone to Larket or Cenril for a drink. Somewhere other than Vailkrin. What was she thinking? Nothing good happens in Vailkrin. Before she grants the elf an answer, she downs the rest of her cup, and then swivels on her seat to face them. And she stares, blankly, at their pale skin, that gaunt look and decides right then and there that this probably isn't a place she wants to be after all. But Artia! Artia was nice. She glances toward Artia, those verdant eyes almost doe-eyed. She doesn't know what to do, but she definitely does not have an answer for Lhyrin, and so they are met with silence.


Ayras cast a look over her shoulder at the cocksure elf that so ridicules the other archer in the tavern. She said naught, however; that confrontation did not concern the warrior woman. Her attention returned to Artia, a wry grin on her lips. "Therein lies an issue," she commented. "I still have to find the temple. Another reason for the book. On occasion, I have found, literature can give useful information on finding things."


Joan said to Ayras, "*asking in a curious tone.* Temple?!"


Lhyrin could only grin further as Nadine took to silence. “You hear that god they’re speaking of, little one? I will pray to him for you. I will pray to him that you will find yourself in quite an unfortunate situation. That your bow may snap. That you are without arrows. That you are so drunk you can’t quite make out the shadows that follow you. Perhaps then Vakmathras will take you and rid this realm of another worthless soul that can never respect themself or the profession that they decided to delve into.” The grin shifted into what would technically be considered a sweet smile, and yet… and yet… it was very much not. Artia’s stern look would be met with the same sickeningly sweet expression before Lhyrin’s face was cleared of such a disgusting demeanor.


Artia offered her hand out to Nadine, "Everyone will try to judge you in some point in your life rather you are different to them or not. Pick yourself another drink, and let me introduce you to some of my friends. This city is probably not what anyone with a heart beat would find their cup of tea, but this place is my favorite. Not because I am a vampire, nor because I do not need blood. This city let's you be who you want, as dark as you want as twisted as you want. As what ever you desire, Nadine. You don't know me yet, but this city os wonderful." Looking to Ayras, "Ayras this is Nadine, Nadine a friend of mine for a few years now even before I was a chi vampire. This is Ayras. Ayras I know the location of the dark dirty temple, but do not enter without an offering." Artia then saw Joan enter and her entire face lit up, "Joan! Hey, want you to meet Nadine." She nods her head to Nadine. Looking around her to offer a hand to Lhyrin, "Oh by the way, hi. I am Artia. You are?"


Joan blinks, shakes her pixie do to remove what snow was on there as she offers a wave back to Artia, Ayras got a questioning look then her attention was taken by some freaky looking elf and a small girl. Each got a nod in greeting as she moved closer towards Artia.


Ayras gave Joan a look as she exclaimed the simple question. "Aye, the temple of Vakmatharas." Her attention returned to Artia as she spoke and mentioned needing an offering for the temple, but Lhyrin and their taunting kept tugging at her ears. The elf set her glass down and turned to face the archer, black veins roiling beneath her flesh. "Do you intend to actually make something of all this disdain of yours, or do you simply give meaningless taunts? If it is the latter, begone; your antics bore." Finally, she turned to Nadine as she was introduced, her head dipped into an informal bow of sorts. "A pleasure, Miss."


Nadine would drop her drink if she hadn't already finished it and returned it to the counter. Even as Artia is trying to keep her there, to explain the glorious aspects of Vailkrin and introduce her to friends, Lhyrin's threat has her running off. Grabbing her bow and quiver, she quickly makes for the door, in dire need of fresh air. But will she get there?


Artia would gift Joan an one arm hug to her friend, looking to Nadine seeing her reach for the bow and arrow. "Nadine, you do not need to run because someone has a sharp tongue." If Nadine wanted to leave she would allow her, but she would want to head out too. Part of her wanted to remain, the other follow Nadine to ensure safe passage.


Lhyrin certainly did not take Artia’s hand and issued it a mere blank stare instead, “Indeed, so you are. It’s of no concern of yours what my name is, I assure you.” A shrug was then offered to Ayras, “A bore, you say. And yet, I’m not the one reading a book.” Nadine would make for the door, her uneasiness basically radiating from her form. It pleased Lhyrin greatly to see this. “How is it that you wish to dedicate yourself to Vakmathras, and yet you know nothing of where his shrines are? Is this not something well known to mainlanders? You would think so, considering the fact that one lies within this very town.”


Ayras gave a roll of those strange eyes of hers as she turned back to the bar and her drink. "The book, at least, is interesting." Wine is lifted to pale lips, the red liquid quickly disappearing from its glass container. The very book they spoke of was brought back out, flipped open to the page she had left off on as she went to return to her studies. But the other elf wouldn't let it be, it seemed. "To those who came to follow a god in these lands, perhaps," she all but growled. She did, however, fail to elaborate further as she sank her attention back into the writings before her.


Lhyrin // The elf vampire would fail to elaborate and Lhyrin would only shrug. “Indeed.” The forsaken elf’s water cup was taken up finally and its contents drained, the glass soon finding home to the table again and pushed aside. Alas, the fun that Lhyrin had found in this place was now just as dead as Vailkrin’s inhabits. The yew bow and quiver were snatched up carefully, properly equipped onto Lhyrin’s back, and then the elf was off out the door, to stalk someone or something elsewhere.