In reply to Sophara Miris (msg # 11):

I think being alive and at liberty is pretty damn interesting.

She grumbles good naturedly, but perks up at the mention of a second drink

Is your wife joining us tonight?  Mind mixing me a Peril on the Sea?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:39, Mon 27 Sept 2021.

In reply to Amarelle Parathis (msg # 12):

She will be here any minute now

In response to the drink request she bows theatrically

Your's to command!  Why don't you take a seat?  I'll be over when the drinks are ready.

In reply to Sophara Miris (msg # 13):

Ten dozen booths and suspended balconies filled the Gullet, each carefully spaced and curtained to allow a sense of intimate privacy in the midst of grand spectacle. Lightning, visible through skylights between the ribs, crackled overhead as Amarelle crossed the floor. Her people had a usual place for their usual night, and Shraplin was holding the table.
This message was last updated by the GM at 14:25, Thu 22 July 2021.

In reply to Scavius of Shadow Street (msg # 14):

Shraplin Self–Made, softly whirring concatenation of wires and gears, wore a tattered vermilion cloak embroidered with silver threads. His sculpted brass face had black gemstone eyes and a permanent ghost of a smile. A former foundry drudge, he’d taken advantage of the old Theradane law that a sentient automaton owned its own head and the thoughts therein. Over the course of fifteen years, he’d carefully stolen cogs and screws and bolts and wires and gradually replaced every inch of himself from the neck down until not a speck of his original body remained, and he was able to walk away from the perpetual magical indenture attached to it. Not long after that he’d found klepto–kindred spirits in Amarelle Parathis’ crew.


Looking wet, boss, what’s coming down out there?
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:32, Thu 22 July 2021.

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 15):

/ooc: At this point the characters who arrived early will be already seated with Shraplin, anyone who arrives right on time will show up at the table roughly now.  Describe what you look like, what you are doing and make your greetings.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:50, Thu 22 July 2021.

In reply to Scavius of Shadow Street (msg # 16):

Mr. Sparkles is perched on the end of the table, a collection of baubles and coin in a small pile in front of him. In one claw, he holds a spread of cards; he cocks his head towards Shraplin, one skeptical eye towards the automaton.

<<Your Turn. Stop Delaying. No Win for You>>

((OOG Note: Mr. Sparkles will give a 'notion' of what he is attempting to communicate. Since we've all traveled together, I'm assuming everyone can get the gist of what he's getting at))
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Wed 29 Sept 2021.

In reply to Scavius of Shadow Street (msg # 16):

Vyrafaeth makes her slow circuit around the tavern a couple times, drinking her blue fizzy beverage. She always asks Sophara for something blue and fizzy and it tastes different every time. Always delicious. Today seems to be a mix of some berries and a citrusy tea leaf.

After lodging the potential threats, she approaches the table.

I'm sorry, Dr. Hammerstrike will be in shortly. He asked that I take his place at the table until he arrives.

Everyone knows the drill. Cornelius is always late. Everyone also knows that Vryafaeth plays a completely random game. Sometimes she will take a monster hand, but typically she losses big and loves doing it.

It's not her money. It's Cornelius'. It's part of a larger game the two seem to play. Eventually, a dwarf wearing a stylish gold embellished red velvet and silk outfit makes his way to the table. The two materials shouldn't work together, but somehow they do.

Hmph, how much have you lost this time Vrya?

Oh dear, was I supposed to pay attention to that? Vryafaeth looks at the stack of coins. Hmmm....about half?

Dr. Cornelius Hammerstrike sputters and harrumphs, kicking her out of the chair and settles in. He picks up her folded hand and nearly jumps back out of the chair. Great Duchess! You folded trips aces! What possessed you to do that!

Sparks' beady little eyes were sparkling more than normal. I'm pretty sure he had us beat. I'll get your drink.

As Vyrafaeth saunters off, Cornelius muttered to himself Damn woman has no gaming sense whatsoever...

In reply to Vyrafaeth (msg # 18):

Shraplin turns dark gemstone eyes on Dr. Cornelius Hammerstrike as he berates Vyrafaeth.

I don't know boss.  When Sparkles gets that gleam in his eyes he isn't bluffing.

He says as he throws a hand with three aces into the middle and pushing the pot towards Mr. Sparkles.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:40, Tue 12 Oct 2021.

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 19):

Weird water.  Says Amarelle as she shakes off her cloak, the multi-colored water immediately sublimating into a muddy multi-colored fog.  She claps her hands and rubs the together evenly

So are we going to have to go through the sham of me beating you, or would you rather just pile your money neatly infront of me. 

She waves over to Sohphara

Next Rounds' on me!  I plan on having all your money by the end of the night anyway!

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 19):

Turning to Shraplin, eyes wide, Wait! Both Vyra and you had trip Aces!?!

Glowering at Mr. Sparkles, Look here Bird Brains, we agreed no cheating at this table. You forfeit this hand!

Cornelius reaches for his part of the gold currently in the pot.

In reply to Dr. Cornelius Hammerstrike (msg # 21):

Mr. Sparkles cocks his head to the side, looking suspiciously at Shraplin and Vyrafaeth as he too lays his hand down, and shows trip aces. He moves quickly to the pile of various treasures in the pot in the center of the table, and starts hopping in a circle in an accusatory fashion.

<<9 Aces. How Happen? Suspicion!>>

In reply to Mr. Sparkles (msg # 22):

Luna casually walks through the entrance to the Fallen Flame, a cool breeze following in her wake. She cast her gaze around in a slow, aloof manner, eyeing the patrons but not really paying attention to who is there. With a small smile she casts a quick cantrip which immediately steams the rain from her fur, casting a cloud of rainbow around her.

She makes her way to the bar, her steps soft yet deliberate.

Hello, Sohphara - did I just hear that the next round is on The Dutchess? An Unquiet Rose for me, please.

Luna scooped up her drink, swirls of light green and pink intertwining in the glass. She reaches into a pouch and sprinkles a crystalline powder on top; a little something to calm the nerves. Although she's lived in dense cities the majority of her life, large structures and crowds still scraped on her nerves.

She makes her way to the table where the rest of her companions are assembling, noticing a commotion: Mr. Sparkles cawing accusatorily, hopping around a small crowhoard of treasure at the center of the table. He notices her approach, and gives her the most pathetic of looks.

<<They Cheat. Why they Cheat Me?>>

Luna reaches the table and rests a hip against it. She reaches out and strokes Mr. Sparkles head in an attempt to calm him, the bird shaking his feathers a bit but ultimately calming down.

Hello friends she purrs, smiling at the companions gathered at the table; Please tell me that we're all at least attempting to play fair tonight? You know how Mr. Sparkles gets when we accidentally play our tricks.

Luna slides casually into a seat next to The Dutchess, giving her a soft smile. Mr. Sparkles crambles over to Luna, hopping into her lap, nestling himself in. Luna reaches for Mr. Sparkles pile pulling handful of coin and trinkets from the pot to add to it.

In reply to Luna (msg # 23):

Amarelle gets stony serious when Luna talks of cheating.

Shraplin dear, your probably most sober at this table.  How many cards are in our hands, been played or in the deck?

She says in a dangerous voice

In reply to Amarelle Parathis (msg # 24):

74 Boss!

Shraplin states cheery as ever.

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 25):

And how many cards in a standard deck?

In reply to Amarelle Parathis (msg # 26):

52 Boss!

He says getting slightly nervous from her tone and leer.

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 27):

She slumps into a chair covering her face with her hands.

This is pathetic.

She slams a hand sharply on the table.

WHO IS NOT CHEATING?!  YOU SHOULD BE PUSING 90 CARDS BY NOW!

She sighs.

In reply to Amarelle Parathis (msg # 28):

As if in response to her slamming a fist on the table Sophara shows up with a tray containing the drinks for those not at the table.  She gently places a hand on Amarelle's back.

Do you remember when we used to be interesting people?

She places a layered blue drink with foaming whitecaps near the bottom and a stormcloud on the front.

A peril on the seas for milady.

She places what looks like an oil can infront of shraplin

Distilled human tempraments for your intoxication pleasure.  Specially designed for your consumption.

She places a small plate infront of Mr. Sparkles, she literally unruffles his feathers as she coos affectionately.

Fermented fruit from Hazar, with alcoholic walnuts from Galena for my favorite bird.

An arakokra from across the room makes an indignant sound.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:56, Wed 13 Oct 2021.

In reply to Sophara Miris (msg # 29):

I'm wearing my cheating hands boss!

Shraplin says moving nimble silver fingers in blurring arcs.

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 30):

Brandwin cuts a look that could melt steel at the arakokra as she twines her arm around Sophara's waist.  She looks up at her wife with goggles pushed up on her forehead and eyes sparkling as she says to the indignant customer

Get in line! even I'm behind Sparkles in Sophara's affections...

She looks at the raven pleadingly

Come on Sparkles, every month its the same thing, you know the drill by now.

Responding to Amarelle's outburst she replies calmly

I myself, can attest I have not had an honest hand all night. 
This message was last edited by the player at 13:02, Thu 14 Oct 2021.

In reply to Brandwin Miris (msg # 31):

Mr. Sparkles, upon seeing the small bowl of exotic treats, pops up from Luna's lap and perches on the edge of the table, flipping a boozy walnut into the air and catching it in his beak.

<<So Tasty. Makes Happy!>>

Mr. Sparkles turns with a little hop, cocks his head at Brandwin and gives a small caw.

<<Hard To Cheat Cards With Wings. Heck.>>

He settles back to his bowl, enjoying his tasty treats with small cawing sounds in between bites.

In reply to Mr. Sparkles (msg # 32):

Amarelle strokes the bird affectionately and kicks off the night in earnest, in the traditional method.  She stands up and holds a glass out to the team

Here's a toast.

We did it and lived.  We put ourselves in prison to stay out of prison.  To absent friends, gone where no words nor treasure of ours can restore amends.  We did t an lived.  To the chains we refused and the ones that snared us anyway.  we did it and lived.

She slammed her drink back, thinking that she didn't normally do this without dinner to cushion the impact.  The full impact of the drink hits her and she settles heavily into a chair.

Did you have a few on your way over here boss? Asks Shraplin.

The Duchess is dead.  Long live the Duchess. She says setting her empty glass down.

The night lapses into a happily drunken night with cards, banter and lots of money changing hands. The rain pounds away at the skylights of the furnished belly of the beast as thunder rumbles in the distance an lightning arcs overhead.

A loud explosion rips through the interior of the belly of the beast causing a number of patrons to jump to their feet looking around surprised.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:39, Tue 26 Oct 2021.

In reply to Scavius of Shadow Street (msg # 33):

At the first sound of the explosion Grask immediately begins milling about his constituency in the gullet reassuring the patrons and ensuring the money keeps flowing

The Sign of the fallen flame has stood for thousands of years, there is no place safer in all of Theradane.  Why don't you consider booking a room in the arms?  Make a night of it.

He says desperation tinging his voice as people begin to leave the gullet.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:33, Tue 26 Oct 2021.

In reply to Gold Claw Grask (msg # 34):

That'sh one advantage of living in our proshperoush thaumatoc... thaumatoto... oh fucking wizardsh, present company excluded of course.

She nods deferentially at Sophara

always shomething interesting eshploding nearby.

Amarelle slurs into her drink.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:17, Tue 26 Oct 2021.

In reply to Shraplin, Self Made (msg # 36):

Why would I except present company?!

Brandwin says playing with Sophara's hair.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:19, Tue 26 Oct 2021.