The Inn/tavern

[crazywriter]

((Sorry I'm a bit late posting... I was preoccupied... what with the wedding and all...))

Profile:

Name: Drintarr Twinstar
Race: ...Uh...
Age: four hundred and ten. Give or take.
Appearance: Blue skin, white hair, violet wings, violet and blue eyes, scars (scratches, bites) covering his entire right side and most of his left.
Special Abilities: shape-shifting, instant healing, strong hand with magic, deathly quick with his two swords, and numerous other abilities. He can do almost anything.
Enchantments: He had a spell cast on him when he was thirteen so that his nighttime eyesight would return quicker after full moons.
Curses: Bite+full moon=
Another curse: check below Bio.
Bio: He's an orphan, and doesn't recall anything of his past before the wolf attack when he was nine. He left the family who took him in when he was twelve and a half to uncover his past, but is beginning to give up hope. After three hundred and ninety-eight years, I think you would too. For him, it's a thousand times worse. His adoptive parents were humans.
Weapons: Two short swords, numerous daggers, and a staff with a peculiar bunch of blades on top, making it look like a giant lily. It was made out of a blueish metal, resting on the end of a slightly curved silver-wooded staff. Strangely, the thing is lighter than his dagger.

The Moon Tribe were originally made up of elves and half-elves who are outcasts, or see things differently than the rest of their race. After generations, this way of seeing things differently turned into a great misunderstanding between the Moon Tribe and the other races of the world. The Moon Tribe changed their appearance so they would not be mistaken for the elves they saw as 'betrayers' (the ones who do not see the same way as Moon Tribe Elves) and they turned against each other. Since then, the Moon Tribe has been seen as an evil race of elves, and all turned from them, creating a bitterness between them, and in some places anyone who attacks or kills a Moon Tribe Elf is not held at fault, and the tribesman (if still living) is given the sentance the attacker would have recieved had the tribesman been human. Unfortunately, the only ways to tell a Moon Tribe from Drintarr is the eyes, and the fact that they have no wings. And, since he tends to keep his wings hidden, and those who do see them count it as 'Moon Tribe trickery', his wings don't count for much. Also; How many people take notice of the eyes when they encounter a being that is supposedly evil?))

EDIT: Oh, right, I should do some story, shouldn't I?

I peered through the drenching rain to the lights in front of me, and cursed my luck. Last night had been a full moon, so I couldn't see in the dark too well. "darn spell!" I whispered harshly. "The thing didn't last me two months before my eyesight started returning at the same speed as before. I shouldn't have wasted my money on that magician!"

Wet, hungry, and completely out of coin, I trudged towards the lights. If I was lucky, maybe the people who lived there would let me work for food. Or if it was a tavern, maybe I could ask if I could take care of the horses for a bit of copper, or just spend the night in the commonroom or in the stables. Anything would be better than this eternal walking in this infernal rain.

[crazywriter]

((*Tapping foot**Checking watch*

I seem to remember something being needed to revive a thread... what was it now... Ah, yes, now I remember. People need to POST!! I can't revive this thing on my own, you know.))

[hippiesoul]

OOC: I'll revive this thing with you. I've been wanting to come back here, anyway. Sorry for leaving like I did the last time (Caverns RP).

My new character's profile (more detailed version in the Characters Profiles thread):

Name: æåñòêèé (Zhestkiy - read jestkii)
Age: Near his 30s.
Race: Human. e thinks he has demi-god ascendence, but that's just him dreaming.
Appearence: Tough looking, dark brown hair shoulder lenghth and really dark eyes. Has a beard, and although not particularly good looking, fits in the "sexy-ugly" category (have you watched 'Kissing Jessica Stein'? lol). His best weapon are his fists and his phisical strenghth, but he can work his way with swords or daggers too.
Personality: He's somewhat anti-social, but he became that way after years of people fearing him. Doesn't have many goals except picking up every woman to step in the tavern he works in and beating the heck out of everyone that annoys him.
Bio: Came from the big city of Derevniya to work with his father in the lumberjacking profession, but after his fatehr's death, started working in an inn in the middle of a forest, 60 kms away from the nearest town. He's a jack of all trades there, but enjoys being at the bar the most, because that's where the women are.

IC: Big fat rain drops were hitting the windows and door of the inn as if there was no tomorrow. Zhestkiy liked this kind of rain, it was good for having deep philosophical thoughts (not that he had them often), but also because there were always some girls that would get scared and he could go and comfort them. But there were none of that kind in the inn that night.

He was bored cleaning glasses behind the counter looking at the people having their drinks and chatting about their obscure journeys and plans and terasures. Zhestkiy didn't care for any of that.

That was when a fight started right in front of him.

"Hey!" He shouted.

The two men looked at him, stopping their fight for a moment.

"No fighting in here. Wanna fight, take it outside."

One of the offenders looked at him with scorn. Zhestkiy returned the look menancingly and flexed his right bicep. Seeing the huge peak, the two men (who were fairly skinny and weak) sat down and returned to mumbling insults between them, probably because it was raining too much for them to fight outside.

Zhestkiy returned to his task and his boredom.

[crazywriter]

((FINALLY!))

I grinned as the shape came clearer. I was in luck, it was an inn.

"All right, Drintarr," I told myself, "Just don't Blend, and you'll be fine. Just don't Blend."

I told myself that every time, but it made no difference. No matter where I went, everyone always thought the same thing: Moon Tribe Elf. There was no place I could go without my skin betraying me as something I was not.

((Oh, it seems I never explained the Moon Tribe Elves to you in his character profile... Well, here it is: the Moon Tribe were originally made up of elves and half-elves who are outcasts, or see things differently than the rest of their race. After generations, this way of seeing things differently turned into a great misunderstanding between the Moon Tribe and the other races of the world. The Moon Tribe changed their appearance so they would not be mistaken for the elves they saw as 'betrayers' (the ones who do not see the same way as Moon Tribe Elves) and they turned against each other. Since then, the Moon Tribe has been seen as an evil race of elves, and all turned from them, creating a bitterness between them, and in some places anyone who attacks or kills a Moon Tribe Elf is not held at fault, and the tribesman (if still living) is given the sentance the attacker would have recieved had the tribesman been human. Unfortunately, the only ways to tell a Moon Tribe from Drintarr is the eyes, and the fact that they have no wings. And, since he tends to keep his wings hidden, and those who do see them count it as 'Moon Tribe trickery', his wings don't count for much. Also; How many people take notice of the eyes when they encounter a being that is supposedly evil?))

I took a deep breath outside the door before stepping in. The moment I did so, most of the noises stopped, and those who went quiet stared at me. Those who didn't go quiet turned to see what the others were looking at. It wasn't long before the entire room was silent.

I sighed and walked over to a table near the fireplacethat was mostly empty, save for a few nervous people who left to join other tables as I neared. I sat down with a sigh and peeled off all my clothing save for my shirt and pants, and hung them on the vacated chairs I had set in front of the fire. The room full of people were watching my every movement.

[hippiesoul]

Zhestkiy, like everyone else, stared at the person who had just arrived. He watched as they walked in and undressed their wet clothes in front of the fireplace to dry them. He thought the same that everyone else was thinking, and before some faces turned to him for "protection", Zhestkiy walked over to the elf.
"Leave," he said, his voice the only sound in the inn.
People were still staring, but the great majority had returned to their afairs after they heard Zhestkiy telling the stranger to leave.

[crazywriter]

I wouldn't look up. My face had always been boyishly round, and my eyes larger than should be, and when I looked up at people when they spoke to me like that, it looked like I was pleading with them.

"Why? What is the color of skin to the nature of the soul? Do you hate the Moon Tribe so, that you would make an innocent leave the warmth of a building, merely for the color of his skin, which he had no control over?" I whispered, loud enough for the man to hear, but not loud enough for anyone else.

[hippiesoul]

Zhestkiy listened to the stranger's reply, and thought about it for a moment.

"Look, I want no trouble," he said. "The owner isn't around so I'm in charge for this inn tonight, and I want it as peaceful as it can get. People don't like the Moon Tribe, and being responsible for it or not, you remind everyone of it."

Zhestkiy wanted to tell the stranger to leave again, but looking at him all wet like that, he somehow couldn't.

"Okay," he said, sighing. "You can stay. But I'll keep an eye on you, and at the first sight of trouble, you can be sure you'll be spending the night outside, and with a smacked face too."

"Now, you want anything? Mead, some food?"

[crazywriter]

"I would, but I have no money. I was robbed in the last village,' before getting shut in prison for retrieving my money and having to give the 'stolen gold' back to the 'rightful owner' and have to do three weeks of hard labor to pay for the 'healing' the 'victim' would need, I added silently.

[hippiesoul]

"By the gods, you really are an unlucky creature! Were you cursed by the spirits upon your birth or something?" Zhestkiy said, half-jokingly. "I suppose you'd want to spend the night here as well? I can let you stay if you pay with your work. You can help me out here, what do you say? I'd pay you enough for food and bed and maybe some would be left for you to keep."

[crazywriter]

I closed my eyes for a moment, testing the threads running about the tavern. Most of them were tight with fear and hatred, some easing a bit -no doubt because this guy was speaking to me-and several had no fear or hate, just certainty. Probably thinking that if I moved a finger wrong, they could drive a sword through my heart with no trouble or rebukement from this guy. It was a while before I find his thread, and I could tell he was telling the truth.

I smiled grimly. "You're right, I probably was born under some curse," I said, my tone serious. "I take you up on your offer of work," I finished, and looked up at him. Let him see my round face and my eyes. No doubt he will not notice them, anyway, when he sees the scars of the wolf bites from my childhood.

[hippiesoul]

"Good, then- Holy spirits!" Zhestkiy exclaimed when he saw huge scars on the man's face. "What the hell was that? Some more of your bad luck?"

Zhestkiy sat down in front of the man, telling the people that were again staring to mind their own business.

[crazywriter]

"The second bit of bad luck I ever experienced. The first was loss of memory of my first seven years."

[hippiesoul]

Zhestkiy furrowed his brows and looked at the man sitting in front of him, trying to scan him.

"Are you some sort of demon? I've never in my life met anyone who atracted bad luck like you. And what exactly is your connection with the Moon Tribe?"

[crazywriter]

I turned my face from him, looking once more at the fire. "That is what I have been trying to find out my entire life," I said softly.

[hippiesoul]

Zhestkiy couldn't really sympathise with the situation, so he said only, "So you're on a quest for your identity."
He wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement.