The door opened as the troupe of weary travelers entered the Inn, most clad from crown to toes in furs, of one kind or another. One of the figures  waited until the last of the travelers had gone through the door, before he entered and closed the door. There had been several shouted protests from when the door opened to allow the icy tendrils of winter to reach forth and caress every soul within.

 Lysandros,son of the great and far distant Thena, scanned the Inn’s common room out of habit of training in the martial skills. When no threat presented itself, he moved with the others to the fire pit, and dropped his gear. Gloves removed, as the young man rubbed his hands before the dancing flames.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:04, Fri 03 June 2016.

Doria arrived and way out of her element, far from the seas, wearing besides her scanty clothing some common furs for warmth and her instrument in hand. Looking around she is not as cold as one might expect her immortal form is not unused to cold, it might be the colder areas of the sea, but still it was - different. She didn't seek treasures but to meet some of her sisters of the places other than her home, and protect her mortal lover the fair Aleta.

Whipping back her hair brushing it she looked for a table for her and Aleta to share.

Eurenomes wrapped his blue chlamys tighter around his slender frame and looked around the tavern. The young priest from Argos felt decidely short and soft amongst the northern barbarians, but then he was the servant of swift thinking Hermes. Was a set of muscles compared to that?

He glanced around, trying to decide whether to look for a dice game or a pretty face. He was due some relaxation.

Aleta walks in and goes over to the table where Doria is sitting. She is dressed in a heavy hooded cloak with knee high boots to protect her from the cold. She drops her hood as she walks over to the table. She sits down and looks at the young severing wench "Please grin me something hot to eat and drink.

She grins at Doria "Why are we up here again? I hate this cold weather"

It had been a very  tiring day of battling wind and snow. Every step a battle against the elements and their own freezing bodies. Hyperborea was as harsh as always. Looking at his companions while they sat on the table Itylus could see everyone showed, to greater or lesser degree, signs of exaustion from the arduous day of journey.

 Having traveled his share on Hyperborea - though not so much on this northen region - Itylus had been the one leading the party so far through the cold lands. Today he had been forced to push the party harder so they could reach the shelter of the tavern before the freezing night caught them. A Hyperborean night was no thing to disdain. He had faced a bunch of them before. None had been a pleasant experience. On a couple of those occasions the daylight had found him almost frozen to death.

However, in spite of the bone-deep weariness he felt when he sat at the table with his companions, Itylus couldn't help but to feel an urge to leave the warm of the inn and plunge once again on the icy road. They were so close of it! The mythic bow of legends. The Bow of Herakles! If the rumors they had heard were right, it was hidden somewhere in a temple along the coast of the Frozen Sea. That legendary bow could be the answer for what he had sought for so long on his travels since he had left his ruined home on the Helicon Mountains. And now, feeling it so close to his grasp, it was difficult to stay still!

However Itylus knew rest was of essence for them to be ready for the trials that lay ahead and would be folly to neglect it. So he summoned all his patience, called for a warm drink, and sat in silence on the table, watching his companions and the other patrons of the tavern.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:20, Sat 04 June 2016.

Arthanos had never traveled beyond the Helicon Mountains before, and while he had initially been excited by the prospect of seeing new lands, the weather and climate had done much to dampen his enthusiasm.

Entering the tavern was like entering the realms of ELysium to his mind and he sighed in pleasure.

When Aleta asked for a hot drink, he quickly chimed in.

"And me as well. Anything to get rid of this chill." Turning to look at the others at the table he sighs.

"Why couldn't we have gone somewhere warm...like a nice tropical island in The Middle Sea....beaches...sun...no snow or cold." he says wistfully, then focused on Itylus.

"Any idea which way next?"

"Warm ocean would be more pleasant but the others wanted to go adventuring, and I might meet some of my sister nymphs that would be interesting we usually don't meet. And it gives us an excuse to cuddle and make love its not so bad no is it, but warm drinks all around would be good.," she said putting her arm around Aleta kissing her lovingly.

Her lack of magic up here will however be an issue.

Itylus watched with amusement the Thenian nobleman's disgruntlement. "Cheer up, my friend! We are arriving at the edge of a sea. I am certain there are lots of islands and beaches nearby for you to rest while enjoying the good northern sun!" he said with an earnest face. "Though of course, you probably will need to break through some layers of ice to actually find the islands, but that small detail aside, it's almost as if we were back to your beloved Middle Sea, Arthanos." a mischievous smile now showed on the hunters face.

Getting back to the matter at hand, he spoke to the rest of the table."As for our course of action. I have no idea to be honest. The rumors we collected along the journey weren't terribly specific. They only said that the temple could be found somewhere along the shores of the Frozen Sea. Hopeful now we are here people will be able to give us a little more information." he gestured towards the other patrons in the room. "This looks like a good place to start collecting information."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:38, Sat 04 June 2016.

Doria's eyes perked up at the word Sea. "If there is a sea there will be my sisters there I could ask them many are very old and wise, and my abilities should work there," she said shocked most of the men didn't notice her yet Nymphs do tend to stand out even if she is out of her element.

Warming his hands over the fire pit, Lysandros begin to felt his fingers and hands thaw. As he looks up towards the other patrons who were also enjoying the flickering flame, he notes that most are native Hyperboreans. A few eye him curiously for a minute or two as his appearance obviously betrayed that he was a foreigner in their land. Around the fire are a few other foreigners as well. A striking woman dressed in a red robe sits directly across the fire from him and appears by her bearing to be a priestess of some kind, though she wears no symbol or sign that would indicate which deity she served.

Back at the group's table, Eurenomes took the opportunity to scan the room. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to find pretty faces amongst the people here as most seemed to be male. However, he too can see the woman by the firepit where Lsyandros sits. He can also see a few women at the bar who eat, drink, and dine amongst other patrons. Games of fortune were a little more common. A few had private games going on, some with cards or dice, though more popular was betting on arm wrestling games. Eurenomes notes such an ongoing display in a far corner of the tavern between two such barbarians, with onlookers placing wages as to which of the two would win the match while the two competitors drink spirits and eye one another.

The serving wench returned with ales for the group in addition to a large bowl of fresh and hot bread. Hearing the requests made for hot meals and drinks, she nods and departs and goes back towards the kitchens.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:07, Sat 04 June 2016.

 When the feeling returned to his extremities, and a tankard of ale, snatched from the tray of the passing serving wench, Lysandros began to feel somewhat civilized again. He knew they had entered the lands of Barbarianism, but there was no need to feel like the locals. Now the beautiful woman that sat alone at a nearby table, she did not strike the Noble as a local, She looked to,well, civilized.

 Lysandros walked over to the striking woman,and stopped before her table. "Hail,and well met, Lady. I am Lysandros, Might I  have the honor of joining you at table? I offer to purchase your next drink,Lady? What say you?"  He said, using his best manners and winning smile.

Eurenomes, who had been considering how best to approach the woman, glared at the back of Lysandros's head. He considered the barbarian contest of strength for a moment, but decided to stay put and converse with his companions.

"I can pray to swift sandaled Hermes for advice, though I do think we should seek out mortal wisdom first - the gods favour those who use their wits."

"Yes, up here, I have to wear so much clothing, which I don't normaly like to wear. But some WARM water would be nice. How can I take a bath up here after all" she looks around at the others in the room, sizing them up.

Doria smiles and mentions ,"Well like I said it will give us an excuse to get close in a warm bed my dearest, as for a bath my guess its hot water in a bucket and some kind of scenting. I always smell like the sea so its fine but you enjoy bathing. As for the quest away from the Ocean I'm vulnerable more than near or on or in it."

Arthanos gives Itylus a deadpan stare in response to his comments about northern beaches.

"If you like them, you can go swim on them...or find them. I'm staying here until I warm up. As to asking the locals for advice..." he says, casting his gaze around. "..any advise? I have not had to deal with northerners before."

The woman in red turned to meet Lysandros's approach, and eyed him like a hunter might her prey. "Greetings, Lysandros." she states, her voice as warm as her appearance. "May you walk rich in the love of the Gods. I shall allow you to purchase my drink, though my tastes can be expensive." she warns. "But you strike me as another treasure hunter come to these lands. Perhaps you can afford it?" she says, revealing a slight smile.

Itylus nodded in agreement to Eurenomes' words."Yes, I agree. We shouldn't bother the gods before we have tried to gather information through normal means." he watched Lysandros approach the comely priestess sitting by the fire an added with amusement. "Good Lysandros there certainly didn't lost any time to start... collecting information."

Itylus grinned silently at Arthanos' retort to his prodding and then answered his question. "Well to get a barbarian talking, you have to befriend him first. A mere conversation won't be enough most of the times. However, if you share with them a good bunch of drinks, or earn their respect in a match of strength -like the ones taking place on several tables around here - they'll open up to you as if you were childhood friends."

"Or be a woman with charms, to suit a mans needs, we can often gather information more efficiently than men if properly used. And our group sports two.," Doria said quietly to the men and Aleta stroking her hair the way she likes.

"Given the two women we have prefer to turn their charms on each other you'll forgive my scepticism Doria." Eurenomes commented dryly. The priestwas still annoyed that Lysandros had charmed the one interesting looking woman here and the two lovebirds in the gang canoodling only served to remind him he was single, gods only knew how many leagues from the women of his native Argos.

(and, fashionably late...)

Dysis did her usual --  watching from the fringes, taking stock of who was about, before deciding whom to approach.  Or, if to do so at all.

As for Hyperborea, the cold didn't bother her, overmuch.   The Elements she practiced were not the warm sort; she was accustomed to the chill, metaphysically speaking.     Her years lived as a slave had toughened her in regards to physical discomfort, as well.

An intellectual, a child of civilization,it might have been assumed she held Hyperboreans and such barbarians in contempt.  But, it wasn't the case.  In truth, she admired that they were often courageous, canny, and wise, in their own earthy sort of way.

Being what she was, it wasn't uncommon that men found her intimidating.  And, she had no interest or real regard for those who did.   Sometimes, among this sort of people, she found some interesting diversion.   Like that trapper she had spent several days with in Argos.  He had been a man.

But, her focus was on other things, presently.  About her waist was a belt consecrated to Apollo, that she'd acquired during their adventures.   Like most magic workers, such items were of keen interest to her.   So too this bow of Herakles -- though it wasn't something she could wield, personally.   But, better that it fall into the keeping of their company, probably in Itylus' hands, than the sort of people who frequently became their enemies.

She kept one ear open to Lysandros' conversation with the seeming priestess, while she gazed about the crowd.   She did something unusual, for her, and wore her symbol of Persephone openly, declaring her devotion for the Underworld goddess.   On the off chance it might bring someone to her...

Meanwhile, she looked for anyone different, compelling, suspicious, or otherwise interesting to her...
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Sun 05 June 2016.

"Eurenomes, don't worry, I still care for you. But Doria and I seem so made for each other. Maybe I should be more like her. Though I still say some prayers to your go of course.

"Now all the gods and goddesses need to be honored for their due, or it offends them, I honor Poseidon but won't for example not honor Zeus when in one of his cities. Aleta can worship as she wishes but if I take her into the sea to visit the beauty of the realms there she should pay homage to Poseidon and the other gods and goddesses of the sea as is fitting.," Doria said solemnly as a being close to the divine forces of nature.

The serving girl returned to the table, demonstrating her own strength and mobility balancing a steaming pot of tea on the one hand and another hand with a large platter of cooked meats for the party's consumption. She informs them that a tab has been started, and that they'd need to pay up front before they leave or before they take a room for the evening.

Those at the table looked around at some of other patrons in the tavern, they note:

- A boisterous merchant wearing some kind of lens over one of his eyes. This thin and wiry merchant is inspecting a jewel of some kind that had been brought to him by one of the Hyperboreans and it appears he is assessing it. Eventually the two seem to come to some sort of agreement over the jewel, as the merchant pockets it and then hands the Hyperborean a small pouch of silver who nods and walks away.

- An extremely large Hyperborean barbarian, notable not his immense size, but also from what must be a tamed bird of prey which sits on top of his shoulder. This barbarian, unlike many of the others in the room, drinks alone and occasional feeds scraps of meat to the bird. Others in the tavern seem to give him a wide berth.

- Two women who could be sisters (or maybe even twins) had recently entered the tavern to seek shelter as well. Although remarkably similar in appearance, one was dressed as though she were a noble, perhaps even a spearman of one of the great cities, while the other was dressed more plainly. The two women had been greeted by the same serving wench that had greeted the party and had been shown to their own small private table. They were speaking in hushed tones amongst themselves while waiting for their drinks and meals.

- Perhaps most unusual person in the room (apart from Doria) is the presence of an Orkoï. Orkos were humanoids, and well known as being a barbaric, brutish people who generally roamed in packs and would engage in plunder, rape, destruction and mass slaughter. They were also known as the sworn enemies of the Hyperborean Amazons. Given that the Barbarians had longstanding differences with the Amazons, it stood to reason that one such creature may be tolerated here where it would likely be killed on sight in Amazonian lands. The Orkoï sat silently amongst its human companions, occasionally drinking ale and nodding along with whatever was being said to it.

Doria gets out her instrument her delicate fingers dancing on the strings its loud enough to listen to if in the room, but is for her not to earn coin, tossing in the lyric poem on occasion when the Muse inspires her the first a prayer to the gods and goddesses:

Oh divine beings of Olympus, Sea and the Underworld here my prayer,

Let your goodwill be with us and may fear be left in the four winds this day,

We honor you and what is due should be granted in your domains,

Whether be those craft, passion, storm, war or strength,

By those of the many virtues give to us your blessings,

Zeus and Hera, and all of the divine this song honors you.

THEN ONE

Fair Aleta cunning and brave whom is blessed with my favor,

I dedicate my heart to you and my powers,

For you alone I yearn and in a bed will Aphrodite's crafts be shared.

"Look at that man with the bird," Eurenomes whispered to the others. "Not too hard though. I wonder if he is a shaman or a chieftain?"

He stroked his own beard thoughtfully. "I think II'll talk to someone, perhaps they can tell us more of this land. Not the birdman however; I suspect a more martial time might find him more talkative - or a maiden of course."

Getting up and giving the Orkoï a wide berth he paused, considering whether to move to the women or the merchant. The merchant wins out. Strolling across he smiles. "Hello fellow travel. You have a look of a southerner like myself. Care to swap stories with a priest of Hermes?" Hopefully the man would recall who the divine patron of merchants was!