The Wolf's Head Tavern is a two story building. The path across the bridge leads up to a set of six stairs that climb up to a spacious covered verandah that runs around the entire tavern. Above the stairs is an old wooden sign with a wolf's head painted on it. The paint appears new, but the wood doesn't, as though the sign has been repainted recently.

Inside, a fire burns directly in front of you as you enter the door, but the temperature in the room is far from being too hot to bear, in fact, it is just comfortable. To your left, is a long bar running the entire length of the common room, save for a small stairwell that runs up the stairs to the rooms.

The rest of the common room is filled with tables and chairs - plus three booths in the corner to your right for more private liaisons and meetings.

It had been a long time since he'd ventured to a place like this.

It had been a long time for a lot of things, actually.

He was dressed in well-worn jeans, a faded red tshirt and a leather jacket. Heavy leather army boots strode across the cobblestone floor of the tavern as he made his way to the bar.

"Scotch." He said, "On the rocks."

With his drink served, the dark haired man made his way to a table against a wall. His dark eyes scanned the empty tavern, as he sat down, back against the wall. He knew well enough that even that wasn't safe in a place like this, but it was the best that he was going to do.

Taking a sip of the drink in his hand, he waved his hand to the barman.

"Actually, send over the bottle." He said across the bar.

It felt like she had been on the road for weeks, when in fact it had been two days. Aalyssa finally felt certain she was far enough from home to relax and she grew tired of eating what she could kill. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the tavern and she hurried across the bridge so she could enter it.

The scent of ale and meat cooking greeted her as she found a table and tossed her cloak upon the seat. "An ale, please," she said to the barman before she sat down with her own back against the wall.

Sliver gulped down the scotch left in the glass in one mouthful, and poured himself another shot from the bottle that now rested on the table. His eyes gazed into the fire, lost in his own thoughts, when the door opened again. He looked up from his reverie for a moment as Aalyssa entered, and then let his gaze flick back to the flames dancing in the fireplace.

"Quiet night." He said.

His voice was audible enough to be heard throughout the bar. His eyes, though, remained fixed on the fire, leaving it unclear as to whether he was speaking to anyone in particular, or simply to himself. He took a sip from the glass in his hand once more, curling his lips around the sharp taste of the scotch.

Aalyssa quirked a smile. "Yes, it appears so. Still, to a weary traveller, quiet sounds good. No fighting, no having to hunt for food. I can just...relax." But even as she spoke, her sharp green eyes were taking in every part of the tavern. While she felt she was far enough from home, there was no telling who her parents may have sent after her.

He spun around slowly, leaving the back fo the chair primarily against the wall as he shifted his gaze to look across at where Aalyssa was seated.

"A weary traveller is usually going somewhere, or leaving somewhere else." He said, "Which is it for you?"

"Leaving somewhere," Aalyssa admitted before drinking some of her ale. "I decided it was time to see the world on my own," she added as she turned in her chair to face him. "I found myself not really fitting in back home. It was time for a change."

"I see." Sliver said. "Didn't really fit in? What's wrong with you then?"

Sliver knew well enough the situation, running away meant that you couldn't stay. Not being able to stay was usually because you were different. He knew that side of things well enough. He had been different right from birth, but it had only been after those first couple of years that he had discovered just how different.

It was one thing, though, to be accepted somewhere else. When they had all been decimated, though, it left him with nothing. Nowhere to be accepted, he was alone, and there was very little in the way of a solution.

Walking down the stairs from his room, Peter nods to the couple chatting at one of the tables and makes his way to the bar.

He takes a moment or two to select a bottle of red wine, and allows the barman to pour him a glass.  For a moment he swirls the glass and then sniffs at it before saying something quietly to the barman.


Then something on one of the walls catches his eye, and with another quiet comment to the barman, he leaves the bottle on the bar and walks across to examine one of the pictures.

In reply to Sliver (msg #8):

"I'd like to be able to say nothing was wrong with me," Aalyssa replied. "I grew up unwanted and when I tried to leave home and be an apprentice, since I was never courted, I discovered the entire village had been poisoned against me."

Meriwether arrived inside & allowed his eyes to adjust to the lighting. Seeing that besides the bartender, three others were also present. He tipped his bowler to all three in turn & made his way to the bar. As he reached it, the Englishman took out his pocket watch & glanced at it. The Bloody thing had stopped...

Meriwether looked up to the man behind the bar "I am quite famished my good fellow. Do you have anything to eat by chance? I could go with a spot of tea with it but while I wait, a shot of your best whiskey! Irish if you have it?"

He looked about him at the other guests . All looked strangely dressed to him & yet all felt quite right somehow. Without looking back the Englishman spoke to he man behind the bar "Where are we my good fellow?"

The stout man behind the bar sat the shot of whiskey upon the bar then went about getting the man before the bar his food...

Peter turned as the new guest arrived, and nodded a greeting in return when the man half removed his hat and then replaced it.

As he looked at the man he noticed the unusual devices in holders at his belt and a slight frown passed across his face.  Returning to the bar to collect his bottle of wine he greets the man.  "Travelled far?" he asks.

Meriwether glanced at the man beside him. He was quite different... his ears, his dress, & his manner. Different but in this place right somehow. The Englishman threw back his shot. A small smile came to his face unbidden. The whiskey was good... in fact the best he had ever tasted. Its warmth quickly spread throughout his body. Fortifying him in a way.

Meriwether then looked back at the man next to him & cleared his throat "Please forgive my rough manner!"

The Shootist snapped his pocket watch closed & gave the man a half bow.

" Traveled far? It is hard to say really. I appear to be lost but this place... well it seems right somehow. My name is Smythe, Meriwether Lewis Smythe & I am at your service."

"Peter Gasgano," The half elf offers, "traveller and sometime Herald to the Court of Galinia" he says with an inclination of the head, but then he continues with a slight frown  "But how, may I ask, are you 'at my service'?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:46, Sun 25 Jan 2009.

Court of what? the Englishman thought. Seeing the frown upon the other man's face, Meriwether knew they were use to two different customs & manners.

Meriwether gave the man a sly smile as he turned to receive his food & tea "Just a matter of speech my good fellow. I meant literally that I am pleased to meet you & would be of assistance in any way that I may. Now then... what was this court you mentioned? Gal... forgive me but I have not heard of it before now. Herald did you say?"

The barkeep brought over a cup of steaming tea & a bowl of hardy stew. Both smelled delicious.

Meriwether said to the bartender "I say! Do you have any sugar my good fellow?"

In reply to Aalyssa Penwern (msg #10):

As Peter came down the stairs, and then Meriwether entered the tavern as well, Sliver gave a light nod to each of them as they entered. His attention was still on the woman he spoke to, though.

"And you are yet, no different to any of them?" He pressed, "An unusual situation indeed."

She nodded to Meriwether then glanced at the other man. "Aside from all of the other girls wanting to hide and be protected rather than fight, as I do, no, no difference at all.

"Ahh." Peter responds as the man explains his strange terms,  "An interesting turn of phrase.  I will remember it." he says with a nod towards the man.  "Galinia?  It is a small country on the coast a long way from here. And for my services I was given the post of State Herald, responsible for drawing up the patents for those the Earl appointed to the 'Order of the Sword Reforged'.  Actually, I was his librarian, for a while, as well." he says,as an after thought.  The thought of the hours he had spent cataloging brings a small smile to his face as he continues.  "However, that was a many years ago and in a different place." and there is, perhaps, a trace of regret in his voice as he speaks.

"But what of you?  You speak in style I am not accustomed to, and nor is your style of clothing familiar to me.  I would be interested to know something of your country." The half elf asks before he takes a sip of his wine.

"That is most interesting indeed." Sliver said, his eyes also slipping once more to the other two men in the tavern, a curious mix always made it to these places, and he could not help but smile to himself as he noticed their mutual confusion attempting to be sorted out.

It was not the first time he had been in a place like this, a melting pot for people of all sorts and varieties. He could not help but smile - it had been in a tavern, just similar to this one, where he had first met Eshana.

"My name is..." He paused, "John, by the way." He said to Aalyssa, tipping the bottle and half filling the glass.

"Greetings, John. I am Aalyssa," she replied with a smile. "Yes, I suppose it is an interesting situation. Uncomfortable at times, of course. So now I wish to make my fortune and then settle down at some point."

Meriwether sipped his tea & smelled the stew. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He then stopped long enough to answer the man.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, my career has not been so illustrious as yours for sure. I am, of late, from a place called Bent Creek, in the United States. Though I was originally born & raised across the pond in merry ole England. I started out as a member of the local Gentry but was not satisfied. So I went exploring. I ended up as a hire gun in the Americas you see."


He then arched an eyebrow at the other man "A Herald you say. To an Earl no less! Jolly good! My father, the Major, once was invited to meet the Queen, though he did not serve at court. A war hero of sorts."

At this the man sipped his tea & chuckled under his breath...

Sliver arched an eyebrow, taking a moment to sip his drink thoughtfully. He stretched his legs out, arching his back a little before leaning over the table.

"Make your fortune, you say? Do you have a plan for this, or are you just hoping it will fall into your lap?"