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PostPosted: Tue Jan 05, 2016 12:43 pm 

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Zarna pauses at the ceremonial dress admiring the fine detail and quality silk. It was tempting but would likely draw too much attention. "Some thing functional I think. I spend a fair bit of my time on the surface and in the wilds but I'm heading to visit relatives and don't want to be embarrassed by my clothes." Explains Zarna petting Rue as she speaks. The dire wolf however is more concerned with the smells of strange animals and foods to pay much attention.

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PostPosted: Fri Jan 08, 2016 4:11 am 

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"Can't go wrong with the simple, can you?" The merchant sweeps aside the more ridiculous pieces of drow fashion. He puts forward a few pieces for Zarna to look over and pick from. His selection is such she can more or less find what she wants.

The tall, earthy man approaches by her side. He points to one of the scarves, a wide reddish-violet piece with a silver spider's web patterned on it. "Might I suggest this one to cap off your ensemble? Even if you wish to go with practicality over presentation, you don't want to see too rural if you're going to one of the cities."

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Fri Jan 08, 2016 5:21 pm 

Hanging stockings with care

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Zarna cocks her head not yet reaching for the scarf but admiring it's simple and elegant design. The man's advice was spot on and she was glad for it as it wasn't something she would have thought much of on her own. "Thank you." She replies after a moment while gently laying the scarf across her arm. "My name is Zarna and this is Rue." she adds waving off handedly at the wolf as if he were only a dog.
Her eyes scaning the designs laid out for her. With her bottom lip tucked under one fang Zarna lifts a pair of black leather trousers from the table that flair wide at her feet and feature rings down the side of the leg. To go over the pants she selects a long narrow loin cloth in a shade matching the scarf. Lastly Zarna selects a matching shirt with a low slung cowlneck that disguised a hood and no sleaves. Lastly a pair of thick black arm warmers that belt just below her sholder to keep them in place but leave her plenty of freedom to move. Crawling across the warmers is a silver web with spider silhouettes.

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PostPosted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 1:20 am 

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"An excellent choice, madame," the merchant says cheerily. "These will look very fetching, I assure you. I crafted them to match the latest fashion, but with my own unique touch... you'll fit right in but still look ravishingly, um... cutting edge."

Before they can get to the matter of payment, the tall man sets a small sack on the counter. Zarna sees that it is filled not with gold or silver, but with finely cut gemstones.

"Consider it a gesture of a potential friendship," the man says. "Material wealth is common where I come from, but friends are the most rare commodity."

The spider-merchant eyes it warily for a moment, but after fiddling around for a moment with the stones gladly slides it closer, and eyes Zarna for an acceptance.

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 11:11 pm 

Hanging stockings with care

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Zarna bends at the neck. "I would be happy to accept. Though I am only passing through at the moment." she carefully folds the new clothes to change into later. "But if your looking to do a bit of traveling I and Rue would welcome the company." She pats the big wolf on the back. Rue opens his mouth in a canine grin.

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PostPosted: Wed Jan 13, 2016 8:35 pm 

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"That depends on where you are going," the man replies. "But the Underdark is a small place, I find. Those who are destined to cross paths often will. But I am forgetting my manners to be sure."

He bows his head slightly, hunching himself and bending his knees to lower his head further. Presumably he doesn't want to bow too horizontally so his gigantic headpiece doesn't fall off. "I should introduce myself. I am the Ozdemir. A traveler, merchant, and gambler. Occasional scholar, poet, and fighter. Savorer of fine wines and collector of exotic pottery. Formerly of the elemental plane of earth, now unburdened by territories or titles.

And who is it that I have the fine pleasure of meeting here?"

He looks at Zarna with a twinkle in his eye. She gets the feeling that Ozzie is a more analytical sort of person, and she should be careful how she chooses to characterize -- or mischaracterize -- herself toward him.

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 10:57 pm 

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"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Zarna Stormborn a druid of the surface. My journey takes me to Shalehollow in hopes I might find a trustworthy guide back home. The quake this morning dragged me down and with any luck I'll come up near to home or my parents village." Replies Zarna hiding a smile as Ozdmir bows. Smoothing her composure back into place before he straightens. Rue settles himself into a sitting position no longer on guard now that Zarna is speaking calmly to the stranger. He still didn't like the big spider, it frightened him and Rue's eyes flick back to the merchant every now and then.

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PostPosted: Sun Jan 24, 2016 10:08 pm 

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"I see!" Ozdimir declares. "You may have a hard journey ahead of you. The tremors... do not seem to be the natural movements of the earth. I have begun to suspect some one is trying to manipulate the paths near the surface, but not who, nor for which purpose. If you are wishing to get back to the surface, perhaps it is something we might investigate together."

The spider seems to pick up on the mistrust from the wolf, and edges away, excusing himself to take up with another customer.

Ozdimir continues. "I was not planning on heading anywhere in particular, but I was planning on heading out with the dwarf caravan, and I believe they said they were heading to Shalehallow. Did you intend to join with them as well?"

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Mon Jan 25, 2016 9:15 pm 

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Zarna nods "It sounds as if we are traveling in the same circle. I am traveling with the caravan you described. If I could find a place to change I would be joining up with them after. I don't suppose you know of a place where a drow could find some privacy would you?" She asks casting her eyes around for an in or similar establishment where she might grab a room for the few minuets it should take to get herself propperly clothed for the new journey.

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PostPosted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 11:26 pm 

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Ozdimir gestured down the hallway past the mushroom man's bar.
"The public baths are down that way. They should have a stall for you to change outfits in. I'll just be over here, having a drink until you return."

The hall leads away from the large market chamber, with a variety of more permanent specialty shops selling potions, knick-knacks, books, and weapons. Sure enough, at the far end is an entrance to the public hygienic facilities, and to the side is a series of curtained stalls for visitors to change and leave their belongings in.

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Thu Jan 28, 2016 4:44 pm 

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Zarna inclines her head in thanks and movies quickly to the changing quarters. Once inside she sighs heavily looking down at what to her would be very fine garments. But after a moment she slips off one article of clothing after another and dawns the new clothes. The leather of the pants was supple and sturdy; Zarna was surprised by how comfortable they were. The spider silk of the shirt was something like her cotton clothes, light and soft but much stronger. When she'd finished changing and made sure none of her armor showed other than her wrist guards Zarna felt more confident than expected.
She could understand why her mother's people favored spider silk over other materials. To an untrained eye it looked light enough to blow away but the wearer would know it was strong as anything. It felt almost like carrying a secret. At last Zarna scoops up her weapon and bag heading out to meet with Odzimir.
Rue who had been waiting patiently beyond the curtain greets her and falls into line at her heels. As they pass the shops Zarna looks this way and that glancing in windows to entertain herself.

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PostPosted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 3:44 am 

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A few of the shops don't seem like anything special, selling food, sundries, and minor supplies for the more stingy and spartan caravaneers, or to service the permanent residents of the trading post. Some of the shops are bigger rooms behind walls of glass that display the wares, others simply have counter and a display along the back wall.

One is selling finely crafted silver armor that looks more like cloth than steel, its back door cracked open just enough for the orange glow of the forge, scent of slag, and hammer clinks to squeeze out.

Another seems to be another potion shop, but unlike the friendly, bar-like shop manned by the mushroom creature, this one has a lot more spikes in the decor, its racks lined with bizarrely shaped vials and caged arachnids. It's attended by a male drow, who averts his eyes as Zarna passes.

A third is little more than a small kiosk jammed in a wall selling rings and amulets, each one set with a jewel pulsing with arcane power. It's proprietor is a robed kobold with craggy white scales and a halo of oddly shaped, diversely colored rocks orbiting around his head.


Almost all of it looks a bit steep for a lost half-drow druid to afford.

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Sun Jan 31, 2016 5:04 pm 

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Her eyes linger over the strange Drow shop and the amulets making a note to come by this trading post again if she gets the chance. The Underdark still felt strange to her but happily Markets were still the same where ever she went and this one might be all kinds of exciting during a holiday. Her window shopping finished Zarna continues on her way deciding to resist the urge to speak with any of the unusual shop keepers and waste their time with out spending any coin. It certainly wouldn't be hard to find Ozdimir Zarna mused. With that hat even she would be able to pick him out at a glance.

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PostPosted: Mon Feb 01, 2016 1:22 am 

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Ozdimir is back near the passageway's entrance, leaning up against the mushroom bar. There are two dwarves with him, seated on high stools. The first has wild, braided brown beard and a shiny bald head. Blue froth from whatever odd brew he's been guzzling is lining is thick mustache. He seems pretty surly, and is more concerned with staring into his mug than conversation.

The other is currently talking travel logistics with Ozdimir. He has a more neatly kept, but much longer, white beard and is wearing a black helm set with two ivory tusks of some vicious beastie. Both are decked out in leather and chainmail and have small weapons strapped all across their bodies.

When Zarna approaches, Ozzie gives her a nod and beckons her to join them.

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Mon Feb 01, 2016 1:50 pm 

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Zarna bows without taking her eyes from the dwarves "Greetings, my name is Zarna. Taeri Fastclaws said to tell you he said I was okay." Zarna signals for Rue to sit. "This is my companion Rue." Turning back to Ozdimir "Hello again." Then she settles in to wait for the dwaves to reply absently stroking Rue's fur and patting his head.

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 3:10 pm 

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"Och, as if that kobold's word was any good to me," the silver beared dwarf grumbles. "You're lucky Ozzie here has vouched for ya, or else we wouldn't be bringing a scrawny one like yourself along!"

Ozdimir just grins. "What Gram here means is welcome aboard."

"Right. Gram Cleavestone. And don't you forget it. My cousins and I are the meanest, roughest traders to ever trek through these parts. See this?" He slams a wide dagger -- more like a cleaver than a knife -- into the counter. The myconid barman winces, but does not protest. The blade is a bright, gleaming silver, though it has a notable swirling purple stain across it. "Sunk this into the head of a mind flayer when he tried to get at me brain. Still got bits of his smeared on it! HAHAHAHA!"

The brown bearded dwarf quietly grunts with a slight tone of amusement.

Ozdimir tries to veer talk back onto a less grisly subject. "I say, Zarna, I don't suppose you'd be interested in a drink." He raises his glass.

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Wed Feb 03, 2016 5:20 pm 

Hanging stockings with care

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Zarna eyes the knife with quiet curiousity unstartled by the gruff nature of the dark. Like bears they weren't likely to bother her if Zarna didn't give them a reason to. "No thank you, I like my senses sharp." She shakes her head in polite refusal and instead pulls a long kiseru pipecase from her bag. Both pipe and case are carved from wolf bone with intricate designs of flora and fauna on them. "I have some leaf to spare if you'd like any though." concludes Zarna packing the bowl with practiced ease and settling into a stool.
Turning to the myconid bartender she requests some meat for Rue. After all she didn't know the trade routs here and hungry wolves made poor traveling companions.

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PostPosted: Thu Feb 04, 2016 10:14 am 

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"Naw, but thank ye," says the silver-bearded dwarf, sounding a tad bit more respectful. "Never good understand why some folk like smoldering plant smoke, but to each their own."

The bartender rummages about for some salted meat and slaps it down on a plate for Zarna to give to rue. The wolf sniffs it warily at first, as it is from no creature he'd ever encountered, but after examining it, he gulps it down readily enough.

"Deep rothé," says Gram. "Bout good enough as any meat you'll find down here. Especially with the right mineral spice on it. Meself, I prefer fish from the surface."

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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PostPosted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 11:06 pm 

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Zarna nods sagely. "Fishing is good this time of year. You should find plenty of local catches in the markets" She takes a short draw on the pipe blowing the cloud of smoke into the air above her head. She turns her face to Ozdimir. " Why do they call you 'Ozzie'?" She asks for an excuse to talk to the interesting stranger and to kill some time until they set out on the road.

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PostPosted: Sat Feb 06, 2016 8:56 pm 

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"Oh, it is just a nickname I use to keep things informal. I used to have all sorts of titles and styles and other foolishness. Now I am simply Ozzie, vagrant of the earth."

He gets another drink from the bar. The two dwarves being grumbling between themselves in their own tongue.

"And what of you? How does one come by the a name like Stormborn? Is it a family name?"

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I am hunger. I am thirst. Where I bite, I hold until I die, and even in death they must cut out my mouthful from my victim's body and bury it with me.
I can fast a hundred years and not starve. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.


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