Nyx sat on the sill of the open window of the room he shared with his companions, leaning against the frame with one leg propped up and the other dangling outside. Cradled in one hand he held a thin cigarette, the faint scent of clover wafting from it as he listened to the Night Elf's proclamation. His face remained impassive, but he raised his hand to take another drag. Inhale, hold, exhale. He never slept well in a storm, but revelled in the aftermath, lingering to enjoy the charge in the air - like cordite after a gunfight - and the sense of peace that descended. He had frowned at the fae's interruption of his meditation, but listened nonetheless and was intrigued at the opportunity it presented -  smiling as the cyber-knight quipped about his jog

Atop his other hand rested a silver dollar, or something a less-successful 'slinger had claimed to be one. His fingers moved in a subtle rhythm, the dollar dancing across the back of his hand, pausing for a moment as he drawled his intention, "I'm too pretty to pass as a human, but it may prove entertaining enough to try. Let's seek out this 'Green Lady' and see what mischief she intends"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:10, Sat 11 June 2016.

Doc staggered up to stand next to his brother, "It's entirely too early to be this loud." his hair a mess, his face(for an elf) looked tired and there was a distinct aroma of whiskey about him. Still, he was as keen hungover as he was sober. He put his cowboy hat on and grinned, "Can I bum a smoke bro?" he asked, as he hadn't grabbed his cigars in the rush to see what was going on, he looked to Sir Arulas, "If you want, I can teach you to use a gun so you don't have to jog."

Nyx threw his battered cardboard pack to his brother, "They're cloves"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:11, Sat 11 June 2016.

In Dragonese elven.

"I wonder what they want, the fey." His large wings allowed him to flutter along in some odd way looking like big versions of the small feys wings.

Doc wrinkled his nose in disgust, cloves, well it could be worse. He wasn't sure how, but he was sure it could be.

"Shoulda known. Let's head to the big tent there and see what's what. Yeah?" he starts walking, not even looking to see if the others joined him. He said over his shoulder to his brother, "You ain't that pretty."

Polk heard the comment with his exceptional hearing and snickered a bit.

"Nah the jog is to work out the kinks. Besides I will never be as good a gunfighter as either of you so what would be the point." He says lightheadedly.

"Do they now Polkitain? Call me Arulas the Sir is for formal events or if you don't know me." in Dragonese to the hatchling.

"Oh I am sorry Arulas, just kind of sounds cool. We dragons after all have a long love hate relationship with knights. At least that was something whispered to me in my egg. What do you think the fey woman wants ? I can only look human for a short time do you think  I will need to take that form when we meet her ?"

"You can call me Sir Arulas if you want. As for human I don't know. If it would make you feel better go ahead."

"Oh, oh oh ! I got an idea just wait !"

Polkitain becomes a majestic steed with shiny hooves bright white mane and a coat that caught the sun.

"Hop on Sir Arulas, knights need mighty steeds right ?" Polkitain did his best to trot with a high step.



This message was last edited by the player at 20:26, Fri 10 June 2016.

Ethan wakes up as the near perfect silence of the morning  is broken by the loud, repeated announcements coming from outside his room. He lies in bed for a moment, needing a few seconds to remember where he is. "It still feels like a bad dream," he thinks to himself as he blinks his eyes several times. With each blink he hopes in vain that his eyes will open upon his real room back home but he knows he will never see home again.

"Well that's enough wallowing in sadness Ethan," he tells himself. "Time to get up and face the day." He gets out of his bed and shaves, then gets dressed in his favorite fatigues. He supposed he should try harder to wear the clothes of the locals but he wanted the reminder of home today.

He finished his preparations to include strapping on his body armor and grabbing his weapons before exiting his room. “No doubt Sam is already heading for that tent,” he thought as he walked down the stairs of the little inn. He exited the inn and found he was correct; he spotted Sam in the distance, walking toward the tent. He also saw the tri of Elves walking in the same direction as a group.

“Elves”, he thought as he picked up his pace to catch up to Sam. “Who would have thought they were real? Then again myths and legends are often based on facts. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that is the case with Elves.”

A short time later he catches up to Sam and greets him. “Good morning,” he said to the Operator. “I take it you think this might be a good job.”

Samuel seems to be standing some kind of line, "Does it really matter much, if its a job that pays and comes from a client that won't be sending you on a suicide mission?"

A small and stocky fae stands at the entrance, taking names and inviting people in one at a time. Leprechaun? At least he is cordial.

Not everyone is here to apply for the job. A couple of villagers who also work as part time merchants are in line with wares that they hope to sell. A strange plant-like alien (a Cactus Person from New West) is first in line with some sort of information to relay to whomever is inside. All are interrupted by a massive Grackletooth who stomps out of the tent. The large d-bee curses in a language which is understood to none by itself.

We will assume that Polkitain is still in the form of a stallion and trotting alongside Sir Arulas. Surprisingly, the horse is permitted inside along the elf without any question.

Within minutes, the record-keeping fae has everyone in line and permitted inside. The inside of the tent is divided into a maze of different spaces which are separated by small curtains. Some of these spaces are filled with fae using computer terminals and other technology. Other spaces are simply packed with supply crates and drums.

These five characters who are humans or "close enough" (and one horse) are lead to large table where warm teas and cakes are laid out. They are told that they may help themselves if they are hungry. The stocky fellow tells them, "The lady will be here momentarily to interview you all. She would prefer that she answer any of your questions herself."

Samuel most definitely 'helps himself' to the tune of a half dozen cakes. Tea those is for wussies, unless it is Earl Grey. He looks around and sees the elf and the horse and says, "Well I always knew that some people were horse's assess, but I didn't think they could apply for jobs like this...."

Clearly hungover, Doc avoids the cakes and teas, he tips his hat up and looks up without raising his head at Samuel, "Gonna assume that's a joke partner, otherwise, I'd apologize to my friend if I was you." his voice matter of fact, not threatening, or playful.

"Well I would assume that you are not talking about that handsome white stallion there as your friend. He is obviously the best looking out of all of us. Is it a real horse? If it is, damn that is a beaut! If it is not, who is the manufacturer, I have to get me one."

He looks at the horse with obvious appreciate and almost as an afterthought says, "Umm yeah, it was a joke."

Your choices:
bacon
scrambled eggs
lady grey tea
green tea
blueberry tea
coffee
cherry tarts
beef cake
mixed nuts

"Why I thank you for the compliment, I did try to look my best for my role as a knights steed." He whinnied a bit.

"Wow breakfast, it all looks good too."

Polkitain looked at his hooves, "Hooves are not very good for filling a plate."

 "Please don't insult the horse. Well stallion. He isn't really either but still. He has a name and it is Polkitain. I am Sir Arulas and these are the twins Nyx and Doc." He says in accented American. He smiles and grabs a muffin. "Polk you can shift to something more dexterous or tell me what you want and I can set a plate up for you."

Lighting another of his infernal clove cigarettes, Nyx takes only coffee and then black. He leans back for a moment, taking a cautious sip and then a long drag, eventually drawling, "Or we can throw cakes to you, Polk?". He smiles thinly at the operator's humour, nodding once in agreement at the comment about folks being asses

Polkitain put his hoof down and said, "Hooves are great, and hard and  straight but yes, perhaps not so good for putting food on plat..." He says to Sir Arulas then hearing about the throwing of cake.


"Oh, I would like to try that." Polk backs up and prepares to catch the cake in his mouth.

Nyx, I need you to make a Saving Throw for me. Some of the items on this table are faerie food (from the Palladium Fantasy rulebook), and that includes the coffee. Roll to Save vs Magic please. You need a ten or better on the roll to ignore the effect. I do not think that Nyx has a bonus against magic. If the roll fails, Nyx should begin coughing from time to time for the duration of this enchantment.

Samuel seems to be standing some kind of line, "Does it really matter much, if its a job that pays and comes from a client that won't be sending you on a suicide mission?"

Ethan just looks at his new friend as if he had stated the most obvious thing possible. "A paying job that isn't a suicide mission is what I would call a 'good job'", he says to the Operator. "I'm new to this line of work but I'm pretty sure that's the definition for most people too."

When Sam tries to engage the trio of elves in friendly conversation and one seems to take offense, Ethan largely ignores the suddenly tense situation. No one had made specific threats or drawn a weapon after all. Instead he makes a plate of the offered food for himself. He looks over the choices and goes with what is familiar to him; eggs, bacon, a cherry tart and a cup of coffee which he douses with cream and sugar if any is to be had. He eats quickly, consuming all the food on the plate in short order but takes his time with the coffee.

Nyx took another drag and snagged a few of the cherry tarts to toss to Polk

OCC: figured as much but figured Nyx wouldn't know!

07:56, Today: Nyx rolled 16 using 1d20.  Save vs Magic

In reply to Ethan, "There was that one job where I ended up being a Sanitation Engineer. That was a DIRTY job and not all that good since the town could only pay in food."