She takes two of the coins and leaves the rest.

"The other bard sang for his supper and got a meal and a few drinks.  If you would like, many of the patrons here are traditionally generous."

"I'm not a bard, but my lord enjoys a good battle or drinking song." Jaim smiles and hands her two more silver. "I'll need more of these." He takes two big drinks and hands the empty glasses back to the tavern wench. His smile still on his face he turn and searches through his bag.

"If you lost a lot of blood you should probably avoid the whiskey, get something with a little less alcohol and a little more sugar first."
He leans back in the booth, and picks up his guitar and checks its tuning, "but that is just my opinion."

He strums out a few scales unamped and hums along.

"Thak you and may i ask you your name?" she says as she quickly dinks the potent liquid.

Jaim turns around looking to the others and he begins to speak in a low gaelic dialect he presses his hand on Johanna's shoulder and he breathes out a green puff of smoke. "I am Jaim servant of Lugh, master of magic, song and war. Being that your a warrior yerself my lord will grant me the ability to heal yer wounds that is if you wish to except that healing."

"Thank you for the offer but ive already been repaired."

"Any time lass." Jaim shrugs laying his bagpipes on the table infront of him. "Whats tha story?"

With a bit of a smile, Parker turns back to the halfling.

"If you want to talk barter, then I will say that I would value that ring at this."

He holds out one of the claw daggers (more of a sword to someone of his size) and one of the dragon tooth daggers.

"Do we have a deal?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:03, Mon 20 Apr 2009.

"Me?" "Well im from 1944 and i fught in a gigantic world war between all nations." " I ended up here after being hit with shrapnel and thats about it."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Mon 20 Apr 2009.

"Where the hell is 1941?" The man asks leaning back.

"Sorry 1944, and its the year."

He scratches his beard thinking. "Well I don't know the year back home."

"Its ok I understand." "So...what is ther to do around here?"

"I'm new here my self I thought it was a trick of the morrigan."

"Whos morrigan?"

"The only god more feirce than my lord. She is queen of the ravens and enemy to my master."

"interesting" she states and leansin as if *tell me more*

"I'm not drunk enough fer story telling."

"Alright I wont push it."

"Three more drinks then ask me."

Obiohoe smiled with an excitement only a trained story teller can, going above and beyond the norm. Aye, a fine trade indeed. He fished out the ring once more and held it out freely. I gave two broken muskets, a small ruby, a blessing of speed and two live chickens for it.

He was excited about the trade, not for the worth of the items or value in combat. He held magic, as some here do, but his relied on stories and the observation of the past. A few minutes of study and he could pluck a new story of magic from the items.

"Also, they are good for parlor tricks and starting fires." 

He takes one of the smaller knives and puts the point into his glass of wine.  Quickly enough it starts to hiss and boil.

"When the point is pressed into anything, it carries over a little bit of the fire from the old bastard of a dragon I knocked it out of the face of."

"I have a question for those willing to answer, if this is a peacful place why dont they just warp out our weapionry well never need them?"

"Young lady... we don't do that here.  It just isn't necessary... ask the Kobold, someone tried to kill him earlier."

"From the look of it its because only inside is peaceful. Outside can be as violent as where you came from, depending on who you upset."

He plugged the guitar into his miniature amp on his belt and began playing "Jessica" by the Allman Brothers.

"Also it seems some people are quiet attached to to their weapons and would be at a loss without them." His eyes glanced over to his guitar case, then back to the crowd.