The night breeze is playful and cool here on the porch of the wolf's Head Tavern. Crickets can be heard in the distance, or is that just the wind.

     Outside on the porch, Quintus takes a seat on the railing, setting the pitcher nearby.[edit]The noise and commotion of the common room behind him was a warming and calming feeling. Now that he gave it the attention it deserved, Quintus was able to tell several differences from the forest he had entered, just about an hour ago. Had it been an hour ago, or several days. He  found that it did not matter.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:00, Sun 01 Feb 2009.

In reply to Quintus Maxximus (msg #2):

"So Laddy, what's the action in these parts?" says Porter.

     "If your like me, sir, you are looking to get away from the action for a bit. I would guess that you have seen your fair share and would be looking to step away for a bit." the roman soldier makes eye contact with the old man. The weight of ages in his eyes tells a story of hardship and little comforts.

In reply to Quintus Maxximus (msg #4):

"Well, Laddy, ta be honest, I did my fair share o' restin afore I should a been. Now I have a lotta catching up in the working to earn me the final rest. It's interesting work, takes me to out o the way places I would not otherwise visit."
Porter eyes the pitcher and cups his empty mug

Out of the woods walks a young man dressed in a casual business suit.  The suit has an odd cut somewhat sleeker with more sharp edges and rounded transitions that seen in most ages.

He moves forward with an appearent mixture of caution and curiosity.  Gazing carefully and skeptically at his surroundings he finally takes note of the other beings here and addresses them.

"Excuse me, sirs, could you tell me where I am and why I was brought here?"

     The pitcher sweats just a bit in the cool air, showing the wine has been chilled before being brought to the porch. With a hand to his own cup Quintus pours the wine for both Porter and himself. "I thank you for sharing a bit of my rest here on the porch with me. I walked in from the front lines only an hour ago."

In reply to Eric Swanson (msg #6):

"In my line o' work, it's the traveler who determines the destination, not the porter...strange how no one seems to know where they are going til they get there. Even after they get there sometimes..."
Porter lifts his mug to the soldier and takes a hearty drink.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:21, Sun 01 Feb 2009.

     "According to those inside, you are probably next to everywhere, and beside nowhere. That is what I have been able to understand. Also you are ahead of yesterday, about to see the present, and tired of the past. It makes no sense, but there is no way to force someone to give a straight answer. You are train-directional I think is what they called it." Quintus offered his arm in a soldier's greeting.

"So you mean I got here on my own." He pauses for a second a contemplative look on his face. "I suppose it possible, I have seen stranger things in my time."



Eric walks forward to the porch and grasps Quintus's arm just below the elbow evidently familiar with the custom.

"Eric Swanson, pleased to meet you.  As for all that gibberish it actually sounds like a rather reasonable explanation to my current perceptions, and a surprisingly accurate description of my mind prior to my arrival here.  I can see layer upon layer of realities stacked here.  If this place is really trans-dimensional that would explain how I could access it."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:38, Sun 01 Feb 2009.

In reply to Eric Swanson (msg #10):

"So you are a traveler too?"

Porter anxiously awaits a response...about thus time, his head slumps forward and his eyes close. With a jerk he pops back up to a voice.

"It would be more accurate to say Exile I am afraid.  I revealed some abilities humanity at large found rather disturbing while defending a friend, and was subsequently asked to leave.  I was looking for a new place to live when I noticed something strange... then I was here."

     Offering wine to Porter again, Quintus fills his cup and another for the newcomer. "I am Quintus Maxximus, I have been here but a short time. I am at your service. Though I shall remain my own man by rights."

Gallus looked at the figures gathered on the front of the building with curious eyes. He had been fighting Chaos Marines not long ago before getting separated from his squad. His chainsword hung loosely at his side, as well as his bolt pistol. His dark red armor accentuated the silver studs in his brow and his Chapter emblem on his hulking power armor. He approaches the porch and hails the men there. "Say you, be you friends of the Emperor of Man?"

"Strange sums up this place...I feel closer to my own destinations here..." "but, as few need a porter in the darktime, I shall bid ye all ado. Merry Meet and I go in peace."...Porter gets to his feet and stumbles toward the tavern door, mumbleing something under his breath about not loosing HIS spot by the fire, and being too old for this sleeping on hearthstones stuff. And something about if he had it to do over again, things would be very different.

     "I have served my time under a master, and no longer a member of the Caesar's army. I have no emperor, nor liege at this time. You may find you have no enemies here though. Dismount that iron steed you are encased in and join us for a drink. The wine is chilled but stout." with this Quintus steps forward and regards the armor more closely.

[edited for spelling error]
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:58, Sun 01 Feb 2009.

Eric regards the sudden appearance of the hulking armored with an air nonchalance, and replies.

"I have never heard of this Emperor of Man, so I am afraid I cannot answer you question with any degree of certainty.  I am however no enemy of mankind and have gone to great lengths and made terrible personal sacrifices to help protect them before my unfortuante Exile."

Gallus arched his eyebrow, but complied. The armor hissed as it released and in short time he was out of it. He was still taller than all, standing well over six feet. He looked down at the others and noted their different garbs. He left his chainsword and bolt pistol under his armor, confidant that no man could lift it. "What is this place? Who are you to be ignorant to the Emperor and fail to pay fealty to one of his chosen Space Marines?" He is not demeaning, only confused.

     Not taking his eyes from the armor, Quintus starts talking obviously to Swanson. "You have referred to this exile you have been pressed on. Would you truly wish to return to a group that pushed you away that harshly?"