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Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » A Night in Dragon Tooth's Inn - Open for All

Casimir Lancaster (played anonymously)

This is for everyone to RP in and gain new connections, network, and enjoy the night's festivities of food and drink. If RP's in here get sent off into private RP's with one another, then this RP was successful! Please DM me if you have questions. Occasionally, a random event may happen for your characters to respond to, which is also dice rolled for intensity. If you wish to roll for your response, you may do so - otherwise it isn't required. I will be NPCing the Inkeeper, who will speak in yellow colored speech.. Cas will be speaking in orange colored font.

It is late at night, and a hellacious thunderstorm has tormented the area for most of the night. The rain, gushing down like a monsoon, soaks every surface it touches leaving puddles and spots of mud in the ground. Buckthorne is a moderately sized village in the middle of a valley where goods are sold or exchanged. It is a central point for many trade routes to and from the capital, which is named Avalon. All the buildings are darkened except for one, where the smell of food and drink and loud voices can be heard. Singing, laughing, and various voices break the silence in Buckthorne. It seems tonight, the inn is fairly busy and packed. The warm orange glow of the Dragon's Tooth Inn radiates outward, enticingly inviting you to enter. All types of people can be found here both good and evil, noble and poor, lucrative and secretive. What you may find in here is anyone's guess. Take a break, stay a night, have some dinner, or participate in a drinking game. Will you enter, or stay outside in the rain?

The building itself is two stories tall, cobblestone and thatch roof, with a pair of lanterns and a wooden sign etched with a dragon. It is very well built, and has a stable to the side for horses. The inn is also has a place were pigs are kept, and it has it's own root cellar and storage in the basement. Bedrooms are upstairs, rentable for two gold a night.

Cas cursed under his breath as he rode in on horseback. His clothes were soaked, he needed a smoke, and it's been six hours since the start of his ride. Ice blue eyes glistened under the shade of his hooded woolen cloak which was brown in color. The man's face was hidden to save the recognition from others upon looking at it. Whether or not he would be recognized out here could be anyone's guess, but the possibility was there. In any event, he needed a room and some food, and his horse needed to rest. The poor bay was near foaming at the mouth and gasping for air. It could be a couple days to ensure that the horse wouldn't die on him, or he would have to sell it for another. Buckthorne was one of those places on his map that was at risk due to the volume of people coming in and going out, but it also meant it had resources and goods for him to restock if it was absolutely necessary.

The stablehand took a hold of the reigns as Cas dismounted. After giving instructions to the stablehand in regards of care to his horse, Cas stomped inside, water puddles splashing as he made his way to the steps. Could the rain get any heavier? Even through his heavy woolen cloak, the drops of rain pelted his skull like a dozen pebbles being thrown at him. While none of the drops hurt, the force in which they came down was utterly surprising. Thunder boomed across the skies as the heavy oak door was thrown open and shut immediately behind Casonce he made it past the threshold. Cas cursed under his breath as the volume of sound changed from the thunderstorm to various voices laughing, talking, and speaking. Cas wasn't sure which was more deafening; the thunderstorm or the tavern's ambiance?

"Evenin' sir. What can I do for ye?" The burly innkeeper asked Cas when he walked up to the counter. The innkeeper was middle aged with blue eyes, balding brown hair with a moustache and beard. Laugh lines decorated his face, though his scars and muscles told of a more tense time in his life. Cas leaned on the counter toward the innkeeper. "I need a room please. Whatever you have. I need it for a few days. Preferably toward the back of the inn, and rather large." With the request, several gold coins were presented in secret, to which the Innkeeper looked down briefly with blue eyes and then back to Cas. "Well, we do have one room available usually used for important guests..." the innkeeper started to say. When Cas presented his purse which contained much more gold, the innkeeper was convinced. "But I think we can reserve it for ya. Give me fourty and you can stay as long as you like." The innkeeper whispered. Cas frowned a bit, knowing it was a steep price if he was only going to be here temporarily, but there were jobs he could take to recoup the loss. The gold was exchanged, and the innkeeper sent off one of his ladies to clean the room and have it prepped for him. "I want the key, also." Cas instructed with a glare, and the innkeeper obliged.

Now, time to settle. Cas took a booth in the back and threw himself into the bench, a rough sigh escaping his lips. Sore muscles screamed at him to get a hot bath going to relax, but he couldn't do that yet. The man needed food first, and to ensure that no one was following him. The soaked, woolen hood remained up as the warmth of the tavern began to soak into his clothing. Cas lit up a pipe and put it to his lips to puff on. The smells of various herbs added to the smell of the tavern as the noise from everyone else drowned out the thoughts circling in his head.

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With the onset of the night, the kingdom seems finally at peace... but not for long... shrouded in the midst of darkness, rogues, dubious characters of many trades and walks of life, are at work and what better place to do murky business than the taverns, especially those of smaller towns and villages which seem less heavily guarded.

With such promise of wealth to be had, Aynor, a renegade ranger turned thief and assassin, a sellsword, was carefully eyeing the patrons at the Dragon's Tooth inn seeking opportunity for work or for gaining wealth through less reputable means.

He sat at a table, by the hearth, and ordered a mug of stout.


With the head partly hidden beneath a thick hood to disguise his visage and a pipe lit up, his eyes were taking in the surroundings as he examined the other patrons and eavesdropped on the many conversations discreetly, well armed and ready, yet blades concealed out of sight.

His lips split with a small smile as he enjoyed listening to the tales he heard about himself some true, others embellished, and others entirely false.

The Slayer of Suvia was known throughout the realms, a man and name greatly feared and admired, depending on who you asked, some saw him a folk hero, given his past deeds, others thought him to be the devil himself, a bringer of death.

Nonetheless long gone are the days of a glorious life of righteous service. When pressed for too long in unjust persecution and hardship, even the mightiest fall into the path of darkness and wrongdoing

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