Best posts made by Malyvern

Silverwharf is a Syndesian coastal port town, harboured on the edge of Blackwater Pass. Once a wealthy port, the town has found itself on the decline in recent years, though the population sits healthy at around 7,000. Built amongst the towering trees of Wolfrock Woods in the shadow of the Kamtara Mountains, the port is a strategic vantage and an architectural curiosity.

Trade from the mountains has been important throughout the port’s existence, but they were also influential when it came to architectural designs as the vast majority of buildings mimic the broad slopes and steep peeks of the hills. Known for its export of valuable resources, Silverwharf earned its name from both the export of precious minerals and its production of silver swords. The port town has a healthy economy, which is mainly supported by armorsmithing and blacksmithing. However, the town is a hotbed for villainous activity and its underbelly is infamous as many pirates have called the port home over the last few centuries.

Caught between two counties the port has found itself conquered numerous times. What was once a sleepy port town has grown into a culture of variety, and the goods sold in the many market stalls are just as likely to be sold by humans and Arborean beasts alike. It’s this multicultural identity that has truly left its mark - Silverwharf is one of the few Syndesian towns that openly welcomes Arborean travellers and merchants. It is because of this that many mercenary groups use the town as a valuable recruitment location. For those with a strong arm looking for steady work, Silverwharf is often the first port eager adventurers call to.

Silverwharf will be a town built in Fractured when the game launches. It will be a home to roleplayers. However, if you would like to visit the town while we wait for release - join us over at the Silverwharf Fractured Roleplay Discord.

(Edit: We have moved! New thread can be found here: The Arcanist's Mill.

Thank you all for bringing such great writing and characters to the story I look forward to seeing what else we can come up with)!

This should be a bit of fun for everyone, and maybe a creative way to get your daily post in too. The idea is that this is a tavern located on the human world of Syndesia. With your character in mind, you can enter the tavern and speak to whoever you like. You don’t need any previous experience to join in and you can change what happens at a moments notice.

The only rule is that you write for your character and allow for others to respond to your actions. Otherwise, feel free to tell a story, order a drink, start a brawl or simply enjoy the evening. I’m sure there’ll be somebody who can provide some music?

A few things:

Syndesia is the human planet in Fractured, but all races can visit. Any character of any race is allowed to enter this particular tavern. The results of which I will allow for you to decide.

Start with a brief description of your character, so we know how to respond when you join the conversation.

Have fun.

From the outside it looks enchanting, warm and folksy. Clay and hardwooden pillars make up most of the building's outer structure. A sign above the door reads “The Singing Grotto Inn”.
It's hard to see through the small, stained glass windows, but the sounds of cutlery and drinking glasses from within can be felt outside.

As you enter the tavern through the old, wooden door, you're welcomed by a pleasant atmosphere and overall happiness.
The bartender is busy, but still manages to welcome you with a short wave.

It's as enchanting inside as it is on the outside. Rounded, wooden beams support the upper floor and the large candles attached to them. The walls are decorated with the flag of the local Syndesian kingdom and it's clear the owner, and probably the customers, feel very strongly about their patriotism.

The tavern itself is packed. Groups belonging to some kind of organization, whether sport, music or other you're not sure of, seem to be the primary clientele here, which could be seen as a bad sign, though you're sure it's not. Several long tables are occupied by, what seems to be the entire surrounding village. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who seem to be enjoying themselves a lot, perhaps too much, if such a thing is possible. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company.

You did hear rumors about this tavern, supposedly it's famous for something, but you can't remember what for. You manage to find a seat and prepare for what will undoubtedbly be a great evening.

The night has drawn in and the warmth of the tavern’s log fire welcomes new travelers to take shelter from the harsh weather outside.

A human man you haven’t seen before takes a seat at the bar. He seemingly appeared from nowhere. Many of the other patrons don’t notice his sudden entrance but the bartender barely looks from the glass he is cleaning to welcome the man,“ ‘lo Malyvern,” he says with hardly a grunt.

Malyvern, as the appearing man seems to be known, motions for a drink and sits on an empty chair at the bar. He raises his glass as if to welcome conversation. He seems like a man with a story to tell.

(OOC Seems good! Let me know if I move too quickly, I'm conscious that we don't want to be sitting around.)

The companions set off from the Singing Grotto and make their south towards Kuasrine.

Couldn’t have found myself better company, Malyvern thinks and bids a farewell nod to the innkeep. They might not show it, but they’re glad whenever the mage turns up. Malyvern’s horse seems like it has seen better days, but the mage smooths its head like an old friend.

The journey isn’t a long one by horseback but thick woodlands force the companions to slow, as the mercenaries are large and the wagon of supplies is in tow. Birds flitter above and insects drone incessantly as they travel further into the forest. The path eventually gives way to a small trail, until there is no path at all.

“Surely there’d be a better way through to the town,” says Ixuo, “what’s the inn doing so far out from there?”

“The inn provides shelter to those who would make pilgrimage to the old academy," Malyvern says, "Although it’s not been in use for a long time, and there are only a few professors left. World’s changed. Steam powered machines rule the day now, and our magic is feared." He turns to Glim, “once upon a time I was a professor of the academy. It still stands, barely, but has become something of a tourist attraction in recent years. I spoke last night of a job that might be interesting enough for you and your men, I'll explain more when we get to the town.”

“Damn,” Malyvern says. A quiet rustling in the underbrush draws the attention of the group and as they move deeper into the forest and the light gives way to darkness. Malyvern feels the rumble of fear.

A tree catches the mage’s eye as it seems to move unnaturally. The plants alongside them appear mangled as though a recent struggle occured.

(I agree! This is the perfect time for someone to join. We won't spend much time on this and will make our way to the town soon )

Out from the underbrush, the tree falls suddenly with a loud crash, alarming the horses. Birds scurry out from the leaves as their wings patter in all directions. A few moments pass and it seems as though the group is safe until the tree begins to move again, revealing that it is something else entirely. A giant, hulking spider.

Malyvern’s horse begins to panic. He manages to conjure a stone wall to block the path between the beast and the group, but it won’t hold for long.

Ixuo grips onto the handles of his axes, and moves to protect the smaller beast-kin who are at the back, he briefly catches Glim’s eye and motions that he is ready to act.

(You’re a more than capable writer, Phargought, feel free to jump in)

With deadly precision the four beast-kin pick the arachnid apart, covering all sides while it slashes with its pincers. Ixuo slides underneath the beast and hacks at its stomach with his axes spraying an awful, green goo all over him. The beast responds by grabbing hold of the Chadra and he howls in horror as he held up and squeezed. He continues to jab at it with his axe.

Malyvern, being the erratic mage that is he is, had seemingly disappeared, only to reappear directly infront of the arachnid with his grimoire in hand.

The mage begins to chant an incantation, and almost immediately the forest lights up in blaze of dazzling lights that confuses and disorients the beast allowing Glim’s men an opportunity to strike.

With Glim’s strike the beast begins to flail around, now thoroughly overcome by the mercenaries. Malyvern has run for cover, back with the Erwydra. Ixuo, meanwhile, has broken free of the arachnid’s grip. The Chadra leaps atop the beast with a lion’s roar and sends a thundering hack with his axe into its skull.

As the beast falls, it manages one last strike at Glim and Ixuo topples to the ground heavily with a heavy thump.

The Arachnid now lies dead. And with it, the light from the forest appears to return. As the source of the darkness has been dealt with, the forest glistenes once again. The road to Kuasrine is clear, revealing a myriad of webs and the arachnid's grisly trophies. From here, the companions should reach Kuasrine fairly soon.

“I’m going to need a drink, I think,” says Malyvern, “and it’s not even noon yet.”

"Hmph," says Ixuo as he wipes green ichor from his fur, “and a bath wouldn’t hurt.”

(If everyone agrees my current thinking is that once we arrive at the town, we will create a new thread with a new tavern (The Arcanist's Mill). We will continue our characters/stories and play around more with the tavern setting, saving the adventures for a planned story in the future.)

Following the success of the Singing Grotto community roleplay, we welcome you to The Arcanist’s Mill. The previous thread reached over fifty posts which to a newcomer might seem daunting. As the characters moved from the Singing Grotto to the Arcanist's Mill in the last thread they will return, though this new location presents opportunity for others to join in the fun.

You can read the previous roleplay here at The Singing Grotto.

There are no rules to a tavern roleplay, and you don’t need experience to join in. Simply pull up a chair, order a drink and let your imagination rule the night. We are very welcoming to roleplayers of all abilities.

If you are looking to get involved but aren't sure how, join our discord channel here: https://discord.gg/Wh6s5hF or message myself, Mimi or WhoAteTheCat

Useful links:

Races in Fractured
Universe, Planets and Travels
Skills & Spells

Situated in the town of Kuasrine, The Arcanist’s Mill has been a favoured haunt for mages from the nearby Academy and surrounding lands for decades. There are maybe nicer taverns, though the prices here are more reasonable.

From the outside it looks enchanting, pleasant and cheerful. Clay and marble pillars make up most of the building's outer structure.
It's hard to see through the high windows, but the laughter and cheering from within can be felt outside.

As you enter the tavern through the heavily used, wooden door, you're welcomed by a pleasant atmosphere and aromas of roasted meats.
The bartender is handling some customers, but still manages to welcome you with a wink.

It's as alluring inside as it is on the outside. Tree logs support the upper floor and the ambient lights attached to them. The walls are swarming with photographs of various mages from the old Academy of Kuasrine.

The tavern itself is packed. Merchants seem to be the primary clientele here, which could be seen as the best sign you can get. Several long tables are occupied by, what looks like couples, lone travellers and anybody else who enjoys great company. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who seem to be close with the owner, though they happily welcome others among their midst.

New thread can be found here: The Arcanist's Mill.

Thank you all for bringing such great writing and characters to the story I look forward to seeing what else we can come up with!

Malyvern smiles at Glim with admiration, “then let’s drink, my friend,” he says, “to our scars.” He looks across the tavern and motions towards Ixuo, “and before your men finish the barrel,” he says with a chuckle.

Ixuo slams another finished pint down onto the bar, and pushes a man who had been getting too close. Two axes stained with red hang at the pale Chadra's sides. He wears the face of a mercenary.

“These humans don’t seem to like me, boss,” Ixuo says, “do I need to bash a few heads?”

The men surrounding Ixuo appear to back down with Glim’s threat. These merchants may be brave enough to tussle with a single Chadra, but are smart enough to know that this is a fight they aren’t likely to win,
“Filthy beastmen,” one of them men mutters to himself, “trudging their mud through here.”
“Think they own the place,” says another.

“Hey now,” says Malyvern. He steps forward towards the bar, placing himself between the beast-kin and the merchants, “we’re all friends here, I wouldn’t have made it through the forest without these beast-kin.” He smiles, and produces his coin pouch. It’s not clear how the mage came to be with more coin, though as always with Malyvern, he seems to find a way.
“This rounds on me,” says the mage, and he pulls down his hood to reveal his face. The men appear to recognise him. “A round of cloudy cider,” he says to the bartender.

Ixuo however looks ready to boil, and looks to Glim as if to say, “are we going to take this?”

The men are visibly shaken by the beast-kin’s display of strength and decide between themselves to take their business elsewhere.

“Took the words right outta my mouth, boss." Ixuo says, “scared the birds away though.”

Alexander returns to his song and even manages to work the incident into his lyrics,
“Oh the beastmen say
Keep out their way
Hopefully there’ll be no blood shed this day…”

His song catches on and some of the patrons sing along.

Malyvern lifts a mug of cider and remembering Glim’s words, he decides to keep his hood down.
“To the beast-kin, may cooler heads always prevail," he says to a cheer, "looks like they left their drinks too."

The mage takes the remaining drinks and sits back with the Erwydra and the twins. He passes a cider to each of them with a smile, but there is sadness in his eyes. Bigotry towards beastmen has never really gone away.

(It's late here in the UK and I'm pretty tired, I'll edit this post with a response in the morning )

Interesting.

He heard himself say the word, but it didn't feel right.

“Humans have never been particularly known for their inclusiveness and tolerance,” says Malyvern, “even long before the fracture humans have quarreled with each other. Don’t take it to heart, young one, they treat their own kind no better than beast-kin.”

They, he thinks. He. The mage is guilty of his own prejudices and he isn’t a shining example of humanity.

“I have spent many years myself on Arboreus and it’s honestly refreshing to see a civilization so at harmony with its habitat,” he continues, hardly allowing Mimi to reply, “can’t say I didn’t find myself itching for the comfort of the chaos of Syndesia, though. Which begs the question. Why did you come here? To this place?”

“We would always welcome another, my friend,” says Malyvern. He pushes one of the spare ciders towards the Udoadra. “Malyvern they call me here,” says the mage, and he names each of his companions.

“As you can see,” he says, “we count many amongst us from Arboreus. What do you call yourself?”

The crowd doesn’t seem pleased with Glim’s words, but some among them appear to agree and the man loses his grip on their attention. The mob appears to disperse, and there are mumblings from the crowd directed at the leader,
“Vachan,” says the bald revolutionary to the man in the black robe, “think we’re done here today.”

Ixuo paves a way through the crowd for Glim and Telwath, using his arm to push people aside as they jibe and jeer at the trio.

Malyvern meets them at the crowd’s edge with a stalk of Ostrich in his hand, and mess around his lips,
“Thought it’d get a bit hairy there for a moment,” says the mage.

Ruve takes note of Glim’s offer and returns to the rest of his trading company. He suggests that they are somewhere outside of the town and says that he will be back in a few days to discuss arrangements.

Back in the tavern, Alexander the Bard continues to play tunes and the mood is merry. The patrons of the Arcanist’s Mill are otherwise undisturbed by the events outside.

Malyvern settles in for another cloudy cider, and sits at the bar.

Ixuo sits with Glim, “I’m tired of these human drinks, boss,” he says, “we need to find somewhere that sells Arborean grog.” He motions to Telwath and places his elbow on the table, "how about a challenge to test the new one?"

“Thank you for speaking with me again, Sir Glim” says Ruve, “the caravan is due to depart in the morning. Various other companies have expressed their interest, but I come to you with an offer of eight hundred gold. You will receive half immediately upon acceptance of the contract, and half when we arrive safely in Avermore. Do I have your word, Sir Glim?”

“Avermore is the last place we should be,” Malyvern says to Glim, “perhaps that is why we should go.”

“I’ve paid nearly that on drinks since we arrived, boss,” says Ixuo, “surely we can get more out of him?”

“Barrows,” Ruve says apologetically to Glim and departs with a smile.

Ruve's bodyguard Ora is leaning on the merchant master's private carriage. She silently maintains an attentive glare at Glim.
“Are you sure you can trust them,” she says as Ruve approaches, just loud enough for the Nheedra to hear. Ruve nods.

Seryn is generally attending to the caravan, rigging the wagons and carriages ready to be set off. With ease, she glides between the various sections attaching ropes and pulleys all the while barking orders at the crew. She will run along the top of the carriages, and occasionally swing down on to the ground to lend a hand to anybody who might be struggling. She wears her hair in a ponytail and her gloves are a worn and faded grey.

“Not that one,” Seryn shouts from atop one of the merchant’s wagons, “keep the food supplies near the front. Somebody get that damn Chadra to move his busted gear out of the way.”

The mercenary company’s wagon has been parked defiantly at the tip of the caravan and Ixuo is refusing to budge. His arms are crossed, and he towers over the humans who have gathered to plead reason with him.
“Fixed this damn wagon up myself,” says Ixuo. “We hauled this thing through the mountains. She’s tough.” He rocks the wagon back and forth, obnoxiously demonstrating that the wheels are in working order, though they are clearly off-kilter and the balance of the wagon sends some of the gear toppling to one side.

Not content with the carriage he has been assigned, Malyvern has begun to barter with the families of the merchants who ride near the back of the caravan. He can be seen conjuring various shades of demons to scare and delight the travelers, hoping to earn their favour with his parlour tricks so that they might accept him amongst them.

Ixuo bids farewell to Cronykil. “It’s good for us all to stick together in a place like this,” he says to Glim. “This planet is more unforgiving than I imagined. And it’s not just the vermin, but the humans too." He looks dismissively at the crew of the Rhila, Seryn in particular. "‘Don’t do this, don’t kill that’, will it be like this all the way to Avermore?”

Imri, the caravan’s animal handler yells out to the Beast-kin as she approaches on top of one of the draft horses.
“Hey there, looks like you could use a hand," she says with a smile and throws a rope to the Chadra. “Attach it to the wagon, I'll pull it to the back over by the crew and the rest of your friends.”

Ixuo accepts the offer with a shrug. Didn’t feel like carting that thing over there by myself, he thinks. He nods appreciatively and attaches the rope to the wagon.

“Looks pretty beat up but she’ll make it,” Imri says with a wink.

“Imri!” shouts Seryn, who appears from the noise and commotion with a hammer in her hand. “Once you’re done with that bring the horses to a starting position. We’re just about ready to leave.”

“Aye aye,” says Imri and she gallops away with a wave and the wagon in tow.

Seryn approaches Glim and Ixuo with a smile.
“Few know the true Imri,” she says, “but she’s a charismatic and generous girl. Loyal to a fault. Don’t get me wrong, she can be difficult at times, ‘specially if you get in the way of her animals but I know I can count on her.”

She pauses for a moment and momentarily seems to lose focus.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” she says. Seryn shakes her head and removes one of her gloves to greet Glim. “Seryn. I’m making sure this hunk a’ junk don’t break down ‘till we get to Avermore. Ruve mentioned we’d be having Beastmen guard us. Can’t say I’m not relieved, the last lot he hired got all chewed up, lost some of the goods as we made it out."

"Just so long as you stick to my rules,” she warns and eyes Ixuo before turning to Glim. “Talk me through how you and your men will keep us safe out there, it’s a large perimeter to cover. Families are near the back, food’s up front where I can keep an eye on it.”

Seryn smiles sincerely. “I’m glad we have professionals this time. You’ll want to speak with our guide Irumac about the route, there are a couple’a bottlenecks along the way. Our hunter Gori can help you with bows, and he knows the terrain extremely well.” She dusts her hands, and pulls out a small bottle of whiskey to calm her nerves.

“That should be it,” Seryn says and bids a farewell wave to the beast-kin. She climbs on top of the foremost carriage and stands next to Imri who is sitting at the front holding the horses’ reins.

“Owayou!” shouts Seryn as she hoists the long red flag above the caravan bearing the insignia of the Rhila Trading Company. She rallies the men and cries out,
“And we’re off to-!”

BANG.

She’s cut short by a sudden thunder of explosions.

Bang. Bang. BANG BANG.

All eyes are on the sky as explosions rip upwards and blast into giant cylindrical fragments of various colours. They whizz and pop, flit, hurtle, whirl and whoosh into the air with deafening cannon-fire like sounds.

The horses are startled and Imri rushes to calm them, but not before they gallop a few feet away.
“What the hell-” Seryn shouts, angrily.

At the far back, there are cries and shouts as Malyvern rushes down the column towards the Beast-kin. The fireworks continue to pop and clap and the caravan crew scramble to secure the animals.

“Damn,” says Malyvern, clutching his collar in embarrassment. “They weren’t supposed to go off until we reached Avermore.”

The pops and bangs die down, and Seryn re-announces that the caravan is away. She casts an angry glare at the mage. Malyvern moves to walk with Mimi and Telwath as the mercenaries file around the perimeter. Ixuo and Glim are at the front, Phargought is at the back as per Glim's instruction. Ixuo sounds off with his horn as the carriages begin to move.

The carriages and wagons of the Rhila file off and depart from Kuasrine, they are heading west towards the Frigid mountains.