open, catch-all

[bouchonne]

WHO: Byerly Rutyer and Linden Doesntgetalastname
WHAT: Just a general catch-all
WHEN: This month, last month, next month, as you wish
WHERE: The Gallows and Lowtown
NOTES: Everything open! Reach out to me if you want something special and closed!

Starters in comments!

Comments

Byerly

[bouchonne]

i. Ambassadorial duties

[ The Ambassador is, perhaps a bit surprisingly, a gracious host. His office is well-appointed, and guarded by a soft-eyed, soft-eared hound whose presence makes the atmosphere quite cozy and delightful. When someone comes into his office, he offers them a seat at once, and offers them a beverage of their choice. And he has fine beverages aplenty - good brandies, good wines, good coffees, even decent water if you’re the sort of perverse monster who drinks water. This is true both for those who come into his office on pleasant business and for those who come because they’re in trouble.

And, regardless of which category his visitor falls into, he offers them a smile. ]

I presume you know why you’re here.

[ ooc: please, when you tag, specify why your character has been called in to speak with the ambassador. Are they in trouble? Are they getting a medal? YOU DECIDE. ]






ii. Lowtown
[ Byerly is not an infrequent sight in Lowtown. So it’s not a surprise to see him out tonight, in a rather run-down pub, playing fiddle for the house band; he’s often taking the opportunity to play to a crowd.

What is a bit more surprising is that, this evening, he turns away his usual payment (a bottle of whiskey) with a shake of his head. Instead, when it’s brought over to him, he scans the crowd - and then, upon recognizing a member of Riftwatch, points to them.

And that is how you end up with a bottle of complete rotgut on your table. ]

Linden

[niminypiminy]

i. Training yards
[ In the Gallows’ training yards is a small, slight elf of some years. His shoulders are slightly hunched, his back slightly stooped; his face wears an expression of constant stress. His clothes aren’t fine, and his hands are careworn, and he generally just looks like someone who’s never slept a full night in his life.

When he raises a hand, electricity crackles around it. He lets loose a bolt of lightning at a training dummy - or perhaps bolt is overstating things a bit. A zap of lightning is perhaps more apt. It does not blow the dummy to bits, the way that other mages sometimes do; instead, he just leaves a blackened, smoldering mark on it.

He lets out a heavy sigh, but doesn’t seem particularly frustrated or disappointed. This is, apparently, what he’s able to do. ]





ii. Dining hall
[ Linden lingers over his meals. It’s not that he eats slowly or elegantly - on the contrary, he inhales his food like he thinks it’s going to be taken away from him - but more that once he’s eaten, he sits for a long time with a book and a cup of coffee, occupying the space silently even as his stablemates come and go.

This book, evidently, is of particular interest, or at least particular curiosity. He frowns at it as he reads. ]