'Ugh.." Lucien groaned a bit as he tilted his hat up, uncovering his glowing blue eyes. Mornings were never his strong suit, and this one was no exception.
He rubbed his neck, where there was a still healing wound now scabbed over. However he was awake now and no changing that. He stretched his long legs as he explored the area, eventually he found his way into what appeared to be a tavern, granted one that was better lit, and cleaner than any that he had frequented before this point.
He took a seat by the bar, still taking stock in his surroundings.
Anna's eyes caught the elf-shaped person that had walked into the main area of the giant tavern. She picked up her beverage and sat down next to the human, unable to keep her wings completely still. Fascinating... she thought. Every person she'd seen in here so far had to have each been from a different world. There was so much to explore...so much that she couldn't possibly explore it all in her lifetime.
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A mere ten days after the Mending, a young knight of Valeron and a young ranger of Eos made a discovery that would change Alara forever.
Loguh returned to the Tavern, and just sat, not asking for another Dwarven Ale because he doubted the strange horned creature would serve him any after his last stunt, simply asking for water. He tried to sit at the most isolated part of the bar he could, away from others.
Bob, noticing the ogre returning in a slightly different mood then when he entered the arena, brings over a glass of water for him, along with a flagon of Mountain Ale, and sets it to the side of him. "You seem...better i guess would be the phrase i should use. You should try entering the tournament that's coming up. Maybe you could show your true colors there." Walking over to Mr. Flashlight. "So, Lucien, glad ter see yer awake. You need ter learn to reel it in sometimes wit de sauce. I had ter make a donation ter de bar down de way not ter kick ye outta de city. Ye should check out de tern'mint dat's coming up. Ye should enjoy it." After that, he heads back to the bar, puts some assorted nuts on the shelf for Quinne, and goes back to cleaning what seems to be a glass that never seems to be clean enough for him.
The ogre drinks the water, simply thinking for a bit.
After a good long thought though, he came to a decision that a more intelligent species would have had a half hour ago. He stands and moves around the bar for a moment, adding his name to the tournament, before returning to his seat and starting to down the ale. He would be damned if he would give up the fight so easily.
"Oh come now Bob," Lucien said with a half smile " Whats the fun of being on another plane of if you can't enjoy it every once and a while." He chuckled lightly, then glanced at the elf that had wings, which caused him to pause for a few minutes
Eventually he decided to table that for a time when he was slightly less hungover, and then glanced at the sheet around the bar
" Hmm, tournament sounds like fun." Signing his name to the sheet before returning to his sheet and saying "...and some juice my good minotaur,I need some citrus to quell the hangover devils that seem to have nested in my skull."
Walking over to Lucien, Bob brings him an odd looking fruit, with a hard outer skin, with a straw leading into it. "Ye know what dey say, 'Put de lime in de coconut' an all dat. Also, ye can have as much fun as ye want, jus don go leavin yer mark on de place. Leads dem right ter us. Dat's frowned on, got it, Luke?" Bob says, with a slight sneer. Walking back to his counter, Bob goes back to cleaning his glass.
"Much obliged." Lucien said with a half smile, dipping his hat low as he sipped from the straw feeling the pressure on his head slowly relieve, as he continued to drink.
Surprised, Bob brings out a bowl and a glass filled with odd looking liquids, and says, "G'day, Bell! 'Aven't seen ye in a while. Ye going ter enter de ter'mint wit de others? It lookin ter be a good one dis time 'round. Quinne be back in town and up ter his ol tricks agin. De new walkers lookin ter be a good lot dis time."
Baa'El grabbed the glass and poured it's liquids into the bowl and began lapping them up.
"I just got back into town after a little scuff about my old stomping grounds."
She mused the tournament, "I do owe that little rat a few zaps for the tricks he pulled last time. I couldn't get the paint out of my fur for a week! Nor that sliver stink..."
Quietly climbing along the ceiling, Quinne can see a familiar face at the bar, talking to Bob. He gets nearer to his nest at the top shelf, when...
~~~~~
Bob looks around. "Ya know, Bell, I tink you may wanna take a look 'round an see iffin ye might be able ter get wha' ye wan' a little sooner den you thought ye would." Bob's eyes look towards Quinne's nest, never taking his face from Bell.
Baa'El raised a hand, "I'll save the hard stuff for the tournament."
She then stood up and looked where Bob was looking, "Vengeance will be mine, Quinne! Those mutants won't save you this time!"
She then rather playfully pseudo-dodged to the sign up plaque, put three long scratch marks near the bottom and move out towards the arena. As she left the plaque, the scratches morphed into her name scrawled in an almost illegible print.
Looking rather scared, as she is the only one so far to make him feel that way besides Bob, Quinne heads back to the rafters below in the arena.
~~~~~
You can hear raucous laughter seeming to come from nowhere. Anyone who has been here long enough knows that the voice causing the noise sounds like Bob.
~~~~~
Bob, reappearing in a puff of smoke, goes back to cleaning his favorite glass with his favorite rag.
Daxm detested barstools, no matter what plane he visited, they were always built for taller people in mind. So in order to get on to one,he had to lift himself up and struggle to seat himself. Such was the case now as he hefted himself onto another loathed barstool.
He was a powerful shaman, a Planeswalker at that! Yet every time for a brief moment he was reduced to a struggling child. Grumbling a few of the choicer goblin curse words, he finally seated himself a the eh bar.
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He rubbed his neck, where there was a still healing wound now scabbed over. However he was awake now and no changing that. He stretched his long legs as he explored the area, eventually he found his way into what appeared to be a tavern, granted one that was better lit, and cleaner than any that he had frequented before this point.
He took a seat by the bar, still taking stock in his surroundings.
The Anabyn
Stay Hungry My Friends....
Emille, Seven-Sting Dancer Shalin Nariya
Artist: //gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Search/Default.aspx?action=advanced&artist=[%22Daniel%20Ljunggren%22">"]Daniel Ljunggren
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=5586155&postcount=2
Quinne, PW
After a good long thought though, he came to a decision that a more intelligent species would have had a half hour ago. He stands and moves around the bar for a moment, adding his name to the tournament, before returning to his seat and starting to down the ale. He would be damned if he would give up the fight so easily.
Artist: //gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Search/Default.aspx?action=advanced&artist=[%22Daniel%20Ljunggren%22">"]Daniel Ljunggren
Eventually he decided to table that for a time when he was slightly less hungover, and then glanced at the sheet around the bar
" Hmm, tournament sounds like fun." Signing his name to the sheet before returning to his sheet and saying "...and some juice my good minotaur,I need some citrus to quell the hangover devils that seem to have nested in my skull."
The Anabyn
Stay Hungry My Friends....
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=5586155&postcount=2
Quinne, PW
The Anabyn
Stay Hungry My Friends....
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=5586155&postcount=2
Quinne, PW
"I just got back into town after a little scuff about my old stomping grounds."
She mused the tournament, "I do owe that little rat a few zaps for the tricks he pulled last time. I couldn't get the paint out of my fur for a week! Nor that sliver stink..."
~~~~~
Bob looks around. "Ya know, Bell, I tink you may wanna take a look 'round an see iffin ye might be able ter get wha' ye wan' a little sooner den you thought ye would." Bob's eyes look towards Quinne's nest, never taking his face from Bell.
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=5586155&postcount=2
Quinne, PW
She then stood up and looked where Bob was looking, "Vengeance will be mine, Quinne! Those mutants won't save you this time!"
She then rather playfully pseudo-dodged to the sign up plaque, put three long scratch marks near the bottom and move out towards the arena. As she left the plaque, the scratches morphed into her name scrawled in an almost illegible print.
~~~~~
You can hear raucous laughter seeming to come from nowhere. Anyone who has been here long enough knows that the voice causing the noise sounds like Bob.
~~~~~
Bob, reappearing in a puff of smoke, goes back to cleaning his favorite glass with his favorite rag.
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=5586155&postcount=2
Quinne, PW
He was a powerful shaman, a Planeswalker at that! Yet every time for a brief moment he was reduced to a struggling child. Grumbling a few of the choicer goblin curse words, he finally seated himself a the eh bar.