Location [Location] Tarsin's Boarding House

[Seth]

Tarsin stared quietly for a few moments, raising a single eyebrow at the rather forward Akalak. It was a bit odd to see the humanoid being walk so calmly into the Inn, without a second glance around the rather crowded foyer. Sulavik would notice that the occupants had quieted, and now all eyes were on him, quiet little smiles on their faces. He had been treated a bit oddly ever since walking into Ravok, but apparently he hadn't really noticed yet. Tarsin gathered himself, and spoke in a soft and professional voice, a stoic look on his tired features. "You can pay by the day, or by the month. 3 silvers a day, or 8 golds a month. You are new here, aren't you?" The innkeeper traded looks with someone in the background, and turned, grabbing a piece of paper from a back shelf. Offering it to the Akalak, he put a pen down on the countertop as well. "Here you go. If you are interested, just fill out some basic information about yourself."

[Sulavik]

It was only after Sulavik's bold proclamation that he noticed the other people milling around the hall, giving him strange looks. He shifted uncomfortability for a few moments, but eventually decided it was his physicality that drew the stares. He was, after all, seven feet tall and bright blue. It was bound to draw some attention, but he figured it would die out soon enough. It would be rather irritating having to pay the man every time he walked into the building every day for rest, so he decided to pay the other option. "I'll do the 8gm a month. Here it is." Without any preamble, he dug into his cloack and pulled out 8 gold mizas, dumping them onto the counter. He took the paper, wondering what to write on it. You have no information to put down, you're a bit of a sad case. Ignoring Makil, he wrote down the following with a flourish: Sulavik Va-- (Vakarion had begun to be written but was scribbled out, as if in second thought) Akalak 8gm a month Has a horse He tapped the pen against his lips as he thought. When nothing else came to him, he too put the pen and paper down on the counter and gestured at it. "Anything else you need, or is the room mine now?"

[Seth]

The man eyeballed the piece of paper for a moment, and then gave a thoughtful nod. Picking up the pen, he signed the bottom of the paper with a flourish of his own, dated it, then rolled it up and stored it away in a nearby drawer. "Thank you very much. You now have a file with your name on it. Any time you want to pay for another month, just come down here, and let me know. We will keep that paper updated with how much time you have, and I will also keep my own personal records updated." The man turned, and snatched a key from a nearby board, turning back to hand it to the Akalak. "Here you go. Second story, all the way down the hall, to the left. Enjoy it." The directions would lead Sulavik to a small bedroom with a single wooden bed that would barely hold his rather large body. There was also a storage chest that he could use to hold his things. The room itself had barely any walking space. Sulavik would easily be able to clear it in two strides. But, it was his new home.

[DraSimon Slade]

20th of Spring, 511

Simon had finally found a place that looked promising. Every location that he had visited until then had either already had a busker under employ or funds and patronage too low to support his lifestyle. He was not the kind to live in the lap of luxury, but he did have certain comforts that he enjoyed, and he was not willing to part with them for too long of a time. Certainly, he could sleep in the streets for a few nights, but only because of the bright future that he could see ahead. When he found his mind wandering, it was usually around an image of himself surrounded by decent accommodations and commanding many people. Because luxury was of little importance to him; Simon wanted people. He wanted power over people. He approached the doorway of Tarsin's Boarding House. It was a rather impressive building - encompassing three floors with balconies that could be used for open-air performances. Simon had heard that most of the crowd drawn there were from other parts of the world meaning that he would have access to a plethora of people and their culture. It was the perfect place for a bard to set up and an even better place for a power mongering one. He entered the building to find a somewhat elderly man - whom he guessed to be Tarsin. Simon approached him directly and set into his pitch. "I would like to work here at your establishment. I know that I'm being rather upfront about this, but I've fallen in love with it at first sight and would desperately enjoy residing and working here. I'm certain that - being a respectable boarding house - you could use an entertainer around here, and I entertain. I'm not the best; I know that I'm not. But I'm willing to work for slightly under a bard's usual pay. I would require a room to sleep in and a few meals a day - all told a value of slightly under three golden mizas. I would also like in payment one golden miza. That would put us just below four - which most establishments pay their bards. You may wonder why I'm being so generous. Well, I'll tell you." "I love people. And I love culture. Nothing would give me a greater pleasure that performing in a cultured establishment with access to so many varied and wondrous people." He had made the entire speech without a drop of magic. He needed to rely upon it less - as much as he enjoyed it. Simon extended his hand across the counter to the man and gave his best charming smile.

[Seth]

Tarsin stared directly at Simon as he approached, arching an eyebrow, bracing himself for whatever tirade the man was about to go off on. He knew the look in Simon's eyes well. It was look that almost every single sleazy merchant gave him when they came stumbling into his House, trying to promote the newest product that he just had to have. One had even come up with little fountains that he could put in his outhouse, ones that would spray the hind-ends of customers who had just used the bathrooms! How petching dumb was that? With a loud sigh, Tarsin settled down onto one elbow, and kept his eyebrow perked as Simon finally made it to the counter. He listened quietly as Simon went into his speech, a small smirk drawing to the corner of his lips. A few others turned to glance at the mixed breed, raising their own eyebrows, amusedly listening in on his rather grand rant. After Simon finished, and threw on that charming smile, he would only be met with the stoic face of an apathetic Tarsin. The old man had long since lost his smirk, and was now instead simply staring, with that unreadable look upon his face. The onlookers quickly turned away, now not at all interested. They knew when Tarsin was annoyed, and they had no interest in watching what was soon to occur. After a few moments of the awkward silence, Tarsin spoke, his voice a soft and cold whisper. "Compliments won't get you anywhere, boy. Drop the shyke. I don't appreciate people coming up and flinging syrupy words into my ears. I have never seen you here before. You don't know a damn thing about this place. And you come in here to butter me up, and then you try to barter a room and food out of me?" He raised his other eyebrow now, and the look on his face slightly shifted to one of dangerous anger. He was rather intimidating for an old man. "But..." His voice was a bit louder this time, and firmer. "...an entertainer might not be a bad idea. Give it a go. Entertain for an hour or two, and show me what you got, boy. Think you can dig the shyke out of your ass long enough for that?"

[Karc]

Timestamp: 11th Day of Spring 511 Karc couted the coins in his hand...30 gold. That seemed a fair price for his tent, lanter, fishing gear, and trap. He nodded to the merchent, collected his coins, and headed, for his next stop. Tarsin's Boarding House. The trip was not long and soon he entered the building. Karc, approached the man at the desk, who he assumed to be Trasin the man he was hoping to meet. "Hello Sir, are you Tarsin? If so could I get a room of yours?" Aero, was sitting on his shoulder and had decided he was going to hop down, the bird jumped onto the mans desk and stared at him in the eye.

[Seth]

Tarsin sighed, fixing a tired eye upon the mercenary. It seemed every business owner in Ravok had something of a bad attitude. "Yes, yes you may. That is indeed what this building is here for. Here is a list of what kinds of rooms we have available. Pick one, and then just fill out some basic information about yourself. Name, source of income, stuff like that." Tarsin slid a small ledger toward Karc, flipping to the front, showing him a page with all the room rates on it. Poor (small room with a simple bed and storage chest) - 3 sm / day; 8 gm / month Common (large room with all the standard inclusions) - 7 sm / day; 20 gm / month Fine (same as common but with finer furnishings and a small hearth) - 2 gm / day ; 55 gm / month The other piece of paper was blank, with a quill set next to it. It was apparently where Karc could fill in the information Tarsin had asked for.

[Karc]

Karc nodded glanceing over the ledger, and writing onto the piece of paper. Name: Talius Karc Bereden Occupation: Mercenary Room Type: Poor Payment Option: 8 gm monthly Animals: A Horse, and Eagle He put the writing things down pushing the piece of paper towards the old man.

[Seth]

"Thanks." The word was cold and short, as if the man was already annoyed with this particular business transaction. Grabbing the piece of paper, he folded it, and assigned it to an appropriate position within his ledger. Turning, he grabbed a key off of the board behind him, and dangled it at Karc. "Here you go. First 30 days is due up front." When Karc handed over the Mizas, he would find the key resting in his palm. He had managed to secure himself a room.

[Crismento Miren]

3rd of Spring, 511 AV Ravok was a very different city from the ones that Crismento had visited before. In a way, each of the four settlements was unique, but this one was something else entirely. Within the first couple of bells Cris could feel that Ravok was a much more wicked place than Syliras, yet without the mess and disarray of Sunberth. Order existed here, which was both comforting and worrying him. On the one hand, as an individual, he felt a little safer because of the reduced chances of getting randomly stabbed outside a tavern, but on the other hand, as an artist of unlawful ways he ran the risk of being quickly dealt with without so much as an opportunity to say something in his own defence. Aside from these thoughts, Crismento could see that this was a rather beautiful city; much more beautiful than one would imagine the lair of the God of Evil to be, at least. So far he had only seen the Docks, and only the Southern part of it. After crossing the bridge Cris found himself in a square that was called the Nitrozian Plaza, he had been told. According to the locals, this was where he needed to go to find a place to stay in. There Crismento was directed by a man, or rather his single apathetic hand gesture towards a building and a word “Tarsin’s”, which sounded more like “Petch off” judging from his tone. Following such guidance, Cris soon found the boarding house he had been referred to. Once inside Crismento glanced around the lobby and then went towards the man that seemed to be the one he needed to talk to. ”Greetings, my friend. I am currently on a quest to find shelter and this place seems to be both, an appropriate and a nice one, for just that,” Cris smiled slightly. ”I hope I’m in luck and you have a vacant homely room that you could offer me.”