Sorana

Do you actively practice yoga? And I'm glad you care

"It's no trouble." Temeria smiled warmly at him and waited to see if he wanted something else. Maybe a beer or some water with syrup. When he didn't, she smiled again and walked over to the door next to her bar, leading into the kitchen. She filled a bowl with stew and added some cream into a small cup, so that he could choose whether to use it or not. She liked some in her stew, it added a nice, creamy touch, but she found that with the many cultures mixing in this place everybody liked different things. Quickly she cut several slices of homebaked, dark bread and placed them on the side of the bowl before returning to his table. "Whatever you forgot - it's safe." she assured him while setting his meal down in front of him. "At the moment only I work here and there's nobody else left upstairs. So there is no way anybody could get to it." Looking over to the two women she sat down at his table. "A meal is easy." she gestured to his bowl. "And company - it you want to, you can stay for a few days - " hesitating she looked at his lute again. "Or maybe, after you left drop by now and then in the evening, play a little for my guests. It would be nice to have a few familiar faces coming by regularly. I only opened the tavern recently, so I don't have a lot of at the moment." @Rosharan A.C.

@Eluvianii

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Why was I summoned to this thread again??? The endless circle of loosing and loosing and loosing - now it caught me again T_T

@AonEne

Temeria turned her head when one of her guests stepped into the room and turned his head. She shot an apologetic look at the other two, repeated her invitening gesture towards a chair and then walked over to his table. "I'm glad to see you're up and well." she greeted him with a smile. Desmund he'd called himself when he'd rented the room a few days ago. He was a quiet one, despite his lute, maybe new to the city, or just looking for some respite. Whatever it was, he had ended up in a good place. A faint smile touched her lips when she remembered her conversation with Mac, how he'd hired her to a guard, despite being able to take care of whatever came this way all by himself. And then, then he had taken the time to show her around, offered her a chance to get to know this new place. He had taken time for her and in these few hours he had looked past her sword, had talked to her, not to someone he was considering ways to kill. She had enjoyed the time, how different it was. It had been a while since she had been more than a number on a sheet of paper, naming active soldiers. "Is there anything I can get you?" she asked friendly, her eyes lingering on the lute. Maybe she could ask him to play now and then. Especially in the evenings that could be an advantage, get a few more guests into the house.

Sagitta reached for her knife when the snake darted closer, kept silent for a while to allow Last to speak without ever seeing him. The bigger picture. A good question, although she wasn't entirely sure about its relevance. They needed something else, some hint what they could do about the gods. How to stop them. How to step into their path with a different ending than nearly drowning in a huge salty lake. "Did he say something about the gods?" she inquired quietly, hoping she wasn't distracting Last from whatever he was doing, not knowing that he was long gone. "About how we can stop them?" They needed some kind of edge, somthing they could use, to help them. Either to strengthen themselves, or to weaken them. The eyes of those nearly starved men and women looked at her again and she shivvered. She had seen death. All kinds of death. More than she ever wanted to see. But this, this willingness, this walking into death without ever knowing what you did. This was something different. She felt her fingers tighten around the hilt of her dagger, suddenly wondering if they all were like that. Crazy, doing something that went against all logic and reason. Why kill your own followers, when they could add to your power. It didn't make sense. But then, nothing about all of this did. Just accept the facts and go on. Sagitta nodded a little to herself and then made a list of things they had to do. Stop the gods. Find the reason for all of this. The task felt dauting, too dauting. It was too much. So maybe break it down. Find out more about Intensity. They had been to the island, they knew their way around. Go there again, this time with a plan. And then stop him. Weaken him or free the poor souls. Whatever might work. And then, then they could worry about the rest of the world. @Archer

Surprised at the questions Mike looked up, bewilderment visible on his face. Rare that someone care enough to ask, even more some stranger on the street. "I don't mind waiting." he replied and shook his head again, tried to get rid of the thoughts in there. "I don't know." he replied to their other questions. "If I'm okay I mean. I really though this was a bar, and now it's not." shaking his head he spread his hands. "I grew up on these streets, in the alleys. I know my way around. That I was wrong like that..." he trailed off, looked down at his shoes again. They were strangers, they had to think him some kind of idiot. Hugging himself he tried to get rid of the loneliness that crawled into his bones again. As if he was missing something. Something vital. As if a voice that had always spoken to him was silent now, too silent. As if he had never expected it to be silent and now craved its counsel. Closing his eyes for a moment he collected himself. "I probably didn't eat enough." he amended his own words with a smile, tried to appear strong and self confident. He had to be. If not, he would die, die in the streets as so many had before him. The weak ones were to first ones to vanish. "That's all." a lie, a weak one, but it was the best he could come up with right now. @Lord_Silberfarben @Spren of Kindness

============= "Ahhhh, you know,..." the man held his hand out in front of him, as if trying to paint something in the air. "I thought of the vial as the present." He nodded again. "Yes, I think that will be good. Some nice vial that she can use as a piece of jewellery." Satisfaction coloured his tone when he came to that decision. Smiling jovially he patted Poller on his shoulder. "Don't worry too much about the content for now. Let's focus on the design first. I know you're more specialized on the other part, but the main part is the vial, the content just something she can fill up whenever she needs it refilled." His face lit up when another idea crossed his mind. "You don't happen to sell gift cards as well? If yes, that's what I'll take. A gift card, a vial that can serve as a charm and your idea to pack it is awesome. So that's what we'll do as well."

Wita watched in awe as Lewis pulled a ring from his pocket and started moving. She found herself smiling for a moment when his face changed, realizing that this was probably the way her own face changed the moment she reached for her bracelet. His eyes turned harder, determined, without any room for games or discussion. She could see the moment he reached the decision what to do and how to do it and then he moved. He was fast, good, incredibly good. Her smile vanished at the sight of the bodies dropping, at the groans filling the air instead of the sing song. Gratefulness nearly chocked her, that he was willing to do this, to do it himself instead of dump it on her table. She knew she wouldn't have been able to, would have freaked out in between, hidden behind a curtain and closed her eyes. Awed she observed him take out one man after the other and calmly collect the guns afterwards. As if he was doing this daily, as if it was nothing but a routine. Only when he paused, stared in all directions did she move out of her hiding place, slowly climbed through the window and into the room. Both hands open and lifted to her shoulders in front of her she walked closer held them out to him. "Lewis." she spoke his name, tried to keep her voice calm and sure. Next to her a man clutched his leg, his face drawn in pain, in anguish and she quickly looked away, focus on nothing but Lewis face. "The ring, please. Give me the ring." she extended a hand towards him, palm up, so that he could place the ring inside. Her movements were slow, and she tried to smile at him again, although it was hard with his cold eyes, the determination on his face. If he decided to do something else, so would have to go along. She trusted him, she didn't want to fight him. Not him, not Marcel. It was as easy as that. "Give me the ring and then we can think about which questions to ask?"

@xinoehp512 ============ Grateful Shana found herself relaxing when they agreed, the discussion stopped for now. She closed her eyes, suppressed a sigh and watch the Voidbringer edge carefully along and leave the lawn. He seemed to expect an attack and she would lie to say, that she wasn't tempted, that she wasn't itching to go and run after him, but in the end she stayed where she was, lowered her weapon. She had given him her word, and she would stick with it. The moment he as an individual lifted his weapon against them she would personally use hers to cut him apart. With a frown she turned away when he was gone, back to her friends. Rob seemed - aggitated behind his stoic mask, the way he had turned, how he had stopped speaking with that sorry of his. Something was wrong with him, and she had no idea why. They needed to talk, and soon. Hopefully he would accept her offer and talk to her as well. But for now, for now she needed to talk to them all, explain what the Voidbringer had told her. It was more important, maybe it would let them see the reason behind her decision. And if not - no it would. They would understand. "Let's head back inside?" she asked suddenly feeling tired. It had been a long day, another long day. Somehow she was stuck in long days on way or the other. @AonEne @Wyndlerunner @I think I am here.

We reactivated the Boarding House Thread. If you want to, you could move him there. There is no magical 'fight prevention' in place, but I suspect it will be peaceful. Can't guarantee that, but I do trust my character to step on the toes of anybody who threatens her guests, so your character is as safe as they can be.

*eats another cookie* They are very tasty. I can only recommend them. *eyes @Nathrangking 's marble cake* that one looks good as well.

*eats a cookie*

Turning around Althea started to walk along the street, towards the indicated direction. "I sent an image of the skin to an associate of mine." she replied to Brin's question. It was positive that he didn't trust her blindly, but tried to find out a little more. He didn't know who she was, if she maybe even worked with the Dustbringer. She knew she didn't, what had happened had been neccessary, a chance for the man to change his course. It had been the only way. Not with Max rioting him like that. Althea made sure she kept her face even, although she sometimes found it hard to hide her dislike of Max use of his power. He knew what he could do. And yet, he still reached out for it instead of looking for another way. Lifting a hand she touched her fingertips to her forehead, remembered how she had nearly clawed her own eyes out. Things had been different back then. Max had been crazy, comepletely, utterly crazy. He hadn't been able to influence his power, or to steer it. Tonight he had done that. He had been careful and only rioted what he'd deemed neccessary. But the expression - the fear, the panic. She knew them. Knew them far too well. She put on her mask again after a few steps, after the first weird glances by some on the street. It was better to blend in, to vanish in the crowd. Easier to divert their attention that something was going on. The last thing they needed were spectators, drunk spectators at that. Better to keep things quiet, to ensure they didn't endanger any citizens. Otherwise they could turn around right here and now. Stopping in front of a building she paused, waited for the others to catch up. "That should be the place." she annouced and carefully stored her device in her inner pocket. The building had three stories and she could hear faint jazz music coming out of the door. Now and then laughter and cheers reached her ears. A bar of some sorts. That wasn't good. The noise of the guests would hide anything else and they proved a large mass of individuals they had no idea about. They could be random visitors, or they belonged to the prisoner, only waited for his command to get rid of any potential thread. They needed to be careful until they knew more about this place. She stayed where she was to give the other a chance to take a look, to come up with an idea how to proceed, maybe to offer a skill. Personally, she would simply walk inside, ask for the man and go there, hoping that the guests were indeed that. Guests. But she didn't know who she was travelling with, so maybe one of them had another idea, or some experience that made this easier, reduced the risk for everybody.

Pausing Mike nodded. "So the job's off?" he asked, cursing himself for not following the Anarchist. If he had, he would now know where and how to earn some money. A lot of money. With a sigh he pushed himself of the wall and reached out for the door. "Well, I suppose I can leave in that case." he said quietly, avoiding Lord's eyes. He really, really had hoped for some decent work, but maybe, no probably it was better this way. The whole room, the building, they all felt wrong to him. It was as if something was here, something, that shouldn't be here, but it was anyway. He tugged on his gloves again, pressed a hand against his forhead. It was confusing, all of it. Pain twitched in his chest and he frowned, ignored it. Just some muscle he repeatedly told himself. He knew, that if he looked no muscle would spasm, or move weirdly, it would simply be nothing there. Just a lighter circular shape on his otherwise darker skin. Nothing but this shape. Apart from the times when the shape brought a friend and there were two or even three. Frowning he shook his head again. "I know where to find you." he nodded again, somehow still trying to keep the door open, to leave himself a chance.

"Welcome." Temeria stepped back into the front room, smiling at the first two guests of the day. Her eyes moved through the room another time, trying to discover details she still needed to take care of. It looked good. And as soon as the first ones were seated, nobody care about the details anymore anyway. With a friendly gesture towards one of the tables she smiled at one of the two women. She looked half starved, cold and definitely in need of a place to rest and to eat something. Just like she had been not too long ago. Her cloths reminded her of those she had seen for years back in Nalthis and she made a mental note to listen carefully when she spoke the next time, curious to see if she could pick up a corresponding accent. "Please take a seat. If you want to, you can leave your coat in the wardrobe." she offered. "I've got a stew cooking that should be ready any minute, some freshly baked bread, and some chocolate cake for dessert." And of course many different kinds to drink as well, but that fact felt so obvious she didn't saw the need to mention it. The room was a tavern after all. You could even see some of the bottles behind the bar. The bar that was empty, apart from the few moments she spent there to fill up some glasses and carry them out to the tables, while at the same time trying to prevent whatever she'd cooked from burning and listening to orders. She needed help. And thank the Almighty, somehow help had found its way here. "It is." she replied to the woman, who looked about the same age she was. "I didn't hire anybody so far. My name is Temeria. I run this place." She smiled at her, tried not to look towards Amber and his candle. Hopefully the woman liked spren. Otherwise - she couldn't hire her. Not if it made Amber unhappy. She had never hired anybody before and wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to ask, whether she should advertise the job, or first let the woman introduce herself. Shifting her weight to her other foot she decided to start with a question herself. In the end she would pay the woman's wages. So she should be the one asking questions. "Are you experienced working in a tavern?" she inquired. "I've got a boarding house upstairs, so some of the guests stay over night as well. Some only stay downstairs for a meal or a drink or two, and some spend most of their time in the library." @Die_eike @ZincAboutIt

It was an honor to face the two of you! And I really look forward to everybody else's roasts! Have fun writing them! I'm excited to see what you come up with!

======== Lena listened to his words and pursed her lips in thought. Infiltrate a guild, well at least it started interesting. It was rare to find someone able to pick the cyanide out - the conclusion that she had included the antidote was logical, but still. She was a master of her craft. Her smile widened to a grin. Very interesting. She really needed to try out some others, if he took the fact alone in stride. Maybe she had found someone who knew how to appreciate the good things in live. "Are you sure it's wise to have everybody split up like that?" she asked and reached for the remaining pancake. Heaven. The chocolate melted in her mouth when she bit down and swallowed after chewing. It had turned out good. But then, everything turned out tasty when you added chocolate. Except for stew. Stew and chocolate just didn't go along well. She hopped onto his table and sat down, legs dangling in the air. "Why not pick a target first, and then deal with that one?" she suggested. "Get the team a chance to get to know each other, their strengths, who to rely on in what situation." Who to leave behind when things got tricky. Who to get rid of in case of an emergency. Who to frame to take the blame while the others got away. She eyes the Anarchist, curious to see how long he would prevail. Their old guild, nearly everybody had vanished, had been swallowed by the city. Alask was still around, Zyn crawling through the shadows, but everybody else. People came and people went. And only sometimes did they need some help going a liitle more quickly than they intended. "There are what, thirty, maybe fourty guilds in this city? I wouldn't wonder about the Dark Alley. If they exists, they don't care about what's going on, or at least they don't act? Better to focus on a guild we know for sure they exist." Pensively she took another bite of her pancake. "The Scholar's guild is full of harmless idiots. They should be rather easy to take out of the game. Or maybe the Farriers? Heard they called themselves after some old Scadial gang. Once we've dealt with a couple of them, we could steal their insignia and then place them at their enemies place, leaving destruction behind. They will attack their enemies and we can lean back." She grinned again. "Or we wait until someone hosts a ball of some sorts. And then simply take out whoever attends. That should be enough to start a conflict on a larger scale." @Gears

When I get a leatherbound (and I've got all of Brandon's and several others) it's always a present to myself. I love books, I love beautiful editions and I love this moment when you get a new book and open it for the first time. The sound of the spine, the smell, it's something I adore greatly. So the leatherbounds for me are a book that is also a piece of art. I love to open them now and then, to sit down in a comfortable chair and look at the pictures, maybe read a chapter or two. But for a reread, I use my other editions. These I carry around, stuff into a backback, or lend to others. Therefore most of them, especially the cosmere ones, are in very bad shape as a lot of people read them over the years. My Warbreaker travelled both to africa and to australia in a backpack (and of course it looks that way as well). I would never lend my leatherbounds to someone else to carry around, nor would I do that, because I want them to look good, to stay in good order. Regarding the question whether to follow through with your pledge or not: I think you have to decide that for yourself. Of course you can read a leatherbound, regularly at that. But if you're looking for the best cost/usage equivalent without any emotional impact, then another edition might be more effective? Honestly for me, they just bring me joy by being there. It's always a special moment whenever I open one, and that alone is worth every single cent for me.

Temeria finished cleaning the tables and sighed, leaned back and pressed both of her hands into her back. It hurt from all the bending forward, swiping the tables clean. Amber was playing with a candle nearby and she smiled at him, before she took the bucket with dirt water over to the kitchen. She knew that she needed some help, but she'd been reluctant to hire anybody, unsure whether she could live from the boarding house or not. She hadn't changed its name, wanted to keep it Mac's as a memory, a gesture of gratefullness. Without him, without him, she would have died on her first day in this city. Emptying the bucket she placed it on a rack to dry and then sighed, tried to decide what to do now. Sweep the floor probably and make sure the stew was cooking gently. The rooms were clean, the library cleaned up. Any new guests could come anytime. Heading back into the larger guest room that also served as a tavern she smiled while she moved the chairs out of her way. It was a good feeling to be here, to do something else but walk over a battlefield. It was peaceful. Her hand touched the pen in her pocket and her smile widened a little when she remembered stepping into that alley, meeting this strange woman. She had been strong, with the cold eyes Temeria recalled from her officers. But she had been nice, hadn't killed her without a reason. Unlike many of her officers had tried. It was a good feeling to have a fallback, a way to call for help should it be needed. She knew that the offer was still standing, that she could join - but she wasn't sure if she wanted to. The respite, the peace, they helped with her dreams, they calmed her. For now she wanted to fully arrive, to make a living of her own. If she joined a guild it would be because she chose to do so, not because she feared she would starve if she didn't. She wouldn't repeat that mistake again. Rubbing her leg she frowned at the familiar ache in a particularly large scar. A spear, it had been a spear. And she had gutted its wielder ins response. His intestines had fallen out, had curled over her hands, his eyes wide in fear and pain. She sighed again, tried to focus on sweeping the floor. It was clean, she'd swiped it yesterday and the day before as well. She swiped it daily. But it kept her busy, kept her thoughts off these memories, of a time over a month away. She had been here for a month. It was a weird thought, and she smiled at Amber for a moment before going on with her cleaning. She could do it. She knew she could. She had been thrown twice into a foreign world and this time, this time she would choose her path. With a guild, without a guild, with help, without help. She didn't care. She only cared that this was her life. Not her sister's, not her brother's. Hers. Proudly she looked around, through the tavern room she had added this last month. The first guests were already coming, word was spreading about the tavern she had added. It was good. Important first steps on her way to becoming independent. And once she was, then she would decide on anything else. But first, first she needed to get this place running. @ZincAboutIt

Lena opened her bag and removed a lengthy box. A smile spread on her face when she looked forward to its contents. It had been a while. If she was honest with herself, it had been far too long. There were rumors in the city, rumors about a new corporation and its goals - she grinned when she considered the rumors again. Bringing down the guilds. Ambitious. But she liked ambitious. Ever since they'd planted that bomb at the government and robbed Alleyzon she'd been bored. The attack on the city had been a nice diversion, but with Mart save at the Forge with Alask and Eve looking after him as well, she was free to do what she wanted to. She had considered poisoning the water supply several times, but in the end it was boring. She knew that it would work. There was no challenge in that at all. Walking up to the building she opened the door without bothering to knock on it first. It was time for some fun, time to get things going in this boring city. They could start with a smaller guild, something to train themselves with and then, after a while they could move on, to a larger one, to a more challenging one. Just like Alleyzon had been. She was still grinning when she entered the office, took in the man behind the desk. His clothing was absurd, but she didn't care about such details. His eyes, his eyes looked the right way, and she definitely applauded his choice of name. A good name was a good start. "Hello." she greeted him and set her box down on his desk. It would be interesting to see what he chose. The left one was safe, made with good ingredients and with a little bit of chocolate in the middle. Thin and slightly cripsy, she absolutely loved this type and made sure to only use the best oil when baking them. The right one, was a little more special. Harmless as well, but she'd added a some almonds to cover up on the taste of the cyanid inside. Just a slight hint, to add a little special taste. She'd been careful to lace it both with the cyanide and the corresponding antidote, spiraling around each other in two beautiful spirals. Eating it wouldn't kill you, but it lead to an interesting experience. Slight dizzyness, a little numbness in your mouth. Interesting, but harmless. She planned to eat it after all. The man was far too interesting to be offered a real one. Those she kept for later, for boring ones, or for him - should he proove a disappointment. You never knew. Sometimes the most boring people hid behind the most fascinating names. Smiling brightly at him, brushed her long, dark red curls back over her shoulders as she leaned forward and placed her hat on the table. As usual she wore a dark set of pants and a long sleeved light shirt. Her long, dark coat was held together by a thicker belt wrapped around her waist and thig, secured by a simple buckle. She liked the sleeves of her coat, they were a lot longer than her hands and she had to fold them back, secure them with a few buttons to keep them in place. "Would you care for a pancake?" @Gears