conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The Bandicoot: The Lost Cohort is a long-standing mercenary group. In it's prime it held well over five-hundred of the finest fighters the world over but it's hit a rather long dry spell. Now numbering only about fifty The Lost Cohort has separated into six groups, each one designated by the letters A through F and about five or six men strong except for 'A' which has twenty and holds the commander. Each group remains more or less independent adventuring parties, reporting back once a year to pay dues. Occasionally a big job requires more than one group. Luckily, or unluckily, you haven't had such a mission in a long time.
  
  You are group D and have made your way to the budding metropolis of Mulberry End. Mulberry End is where, for the last few years, you've been heading to around the end of the year to pay your dues and check for new jobs. The city is relatively peaceful, although there are murmurs of local gang violence increasing.
  
  You walk up to The Commander's Corner, a large inn run by "Commander" Dolrin Ironclaw, The Lost Cohort's previous commander. Dolrin retired about a decade ago and set up the inn as a general meeting place for The Cohort. It is a place frequently patronized by adventurers, guards, and anyone in the business of blood. Cohort members of course, stay for free and are provided with one free meal a day whenever they choose to stop in.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Chas Kramer: Biff arched his eyebrow, as the ... funny...taste of the meatball invaded his mouth. Sure, a warm meal was free, in the Commander's Corner. And sure as the seven hells, Biff needed to eat something to prevent the strong dwarven ale he was having from knocking him out...
  But somehow the "Commander" had obviously preserved the pragmatic attitude he had while serving the Cohort...and applied it to cooking. For example, those meatballs were a convenient salvage of every randomly-assembled perishable ingredient in the kitchen. All cooked together to spare time. Practical.
  
  "Well, at least it's for free", Biff was forced to admit. He had joined the Cohort no later than six months before (when Lyn had sponsored his recruitment), and had been carrying out boring jobs since then. Carry a package here, escort someone there... nothing requiring a higher price than the occasional magic flame show-off... and all the bore in the word. Still, it was the best decision since he left home. He could eat everyday (this was a nice perk), and could finally live in a world where his lineage counted like horsecrap...be responsible for himself, at last.
  
  These thoughts (or the ale perhaps) put him in good mood. He raised his mug of ale and mumbled an almost-intelligible salute to his comerade, whom he just noticed was there...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yawielas: Sylwalyn, or more commonly referred to as just "Lyn" by her fellow mercenaries, nods to Biff's salute. The tall half elf woman is standing by the bar, just receiving a tankard. She gives the barman a quick smile and brings her tankard over to Biff's table. Plopping down on a vacant chair, she sets her drink down carefully and looks at Biff.  "Chewy, aren't they?"  She nods at his plate of meatballs. Then she gazes around the common room to see if there's anyone else she knows. After a few nods and waves, she turns to Biff again.  "Seen the others? Bathing, perhaps..I guess they're around somewhere." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Chas Kramer: "Hello there, Lyn. Gorgeous as ever" . She was, in fact, gorgeous (in a particular way), but femminine compliments and gallantry didn't quite fit, for that deadly warrior woman.
  Although, Biff couldn't help being elegant sometimes... Legacy of a past he couldn't entirely forget. Or, just as likely, it was the beer talking.
   "Yup, they should be around here"  Biff directed his glance towards the tallest man in the room. The man had his back turned, but his sturdy shape and genuine attitude quickly identified him as Ronald.
  Biff tried to stand up and go say hello...although his wobbly legs seemed to disagree with this plan, and quickly forced him on his seat again. Besides it would just have been unpolite not to have a chat with Lyn first...yeah...
   "Soooo... have you been doing anything interesting recently? My last job was escorting some fat noble guy to his favourite brothel, so that he could fantasize about marrying his favourite hooker. Believe me, the reward wasn't even nearly enough to pay off for his uppishness."  Biff snorted and emptied his mug of ale in one sip.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Illven: "No I haven't." Ronald spoke up, forcing himself on the conversation.
  
  "I've only had the dumb, two eighteen year olds are convinced they are the ones for each other, marry them." He starts bitterly.
  
  "It pays the bills, but not much else." He shrugs. "Think anyone else in town has leads?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yawielas: Lyn takes another sip of her drink and shrugs.  "We'll look around after we pay our dues. Perhaps a group job, that'd be good. I've had a few caravan guard jobs, but it's not like working with the company. Biff, what do you say, you've been in this game for a little while now. Is it everything you dreamed it would be?"  She grins.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Chas Kramer: Biff smirked at Lyn's question... as a matter of fact, it kinda was...it was... a yet to complete version of his dream.
  No normal man, with at least a little sense, would have freely given up the wealth he had before, chosen to become an alley rat and sellsword, just out of some idealistic tantrum.  Obviously, Biff didn't have such sense.
  
  " Well' let's say it's not what I dreamed, but it is entirely what I expected. Although a little more action wouldn't be bad. And a little more coin, just for the luxury of tasting real food, for once...wouldn't hurt as well  "
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yawielas: Lyn glances at his plate.  "Well, I've still got some gold left....There's a place up the street that serves mutton that practically falls off the bone. And baked vegetables glazed with honey and spices. Too bad you've already eaten,"  she grins.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Illven: Originally Posted by Yawielas 
   Lyn glances at his plate.  "Well, I've still got some gold left....There's a place up the street that serves mutton that practically falls off the bone. And baked vegetables glazed with honey and spices. Too bad you've already eaten,"  she grins. 
   
  
   I thought Elves hated meat.  Ronald commented confused.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yawielas: Lyn looks at Ronald, narrowing her eyes briefly, then exhales, shaking her head a little.  "Some are strictly vegetarian, some are not. I am not an elf, though. I'm half human. I eat whatever I want." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Illven: Originally Posted by Yawielas 
   Lyn looks at Ronald, narrowing her eyes briefly, then exhales, shaking her head a little.  "Some are strictly vegetarian, some are not. I am not an elf, though. I'm half human. I eat whatever I want."  
   
  
   Sorry, I suppose it was old wives tales then.  Ronald apologized.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Chas Kramer: Biff stretched like a cat and smiled " We should defintely discuss about our culinary preferences in front of tender mutton. "