conversations: human
conversations:  Empires rise. Empires fall. Crystal Spheres burn with the endless fires of war, and are reborn. Trillions of people are born and die each day. The Great Wheel simply keeps turning.
  
  And at the heart of the Great Wheel, there is, and perhaps always has been, the city of Sigil, itself shaped like an enormous hollow wheel. Sigil's Lady of Pain has seen much in her unnumbered millennia. Now she has something new to watch--You. Be sure to give her a good show, hmm?
  ***
  This tavern, which its sign calls The Wild Rumpus and its regulars call The Rump, is located more or less between the Lower Quarter and the Hive. It is an old building, hidden in the shadows of more recently reconstructed edifices. The current owner claims that it has existed largely unchanged since the days of the Syrneth, though it's more likely that it was chiseled out of the city's interior much later as the inhabitants started running out of space, like many buildings in and around the Hive. Regardless of its origins, today the Rump is a popular watering hole among the less affluent Exalted of Sigil, known for its wide variety of potent (and low-quality) liqueurs, and for having walls and furnishings so tough that they are sometimes said to have been alloyed with darksteel. Taken together, this makes it one of the few places in the Wheel where almost all kinds of Exalts can not only get drunk, but enjoy bar fights without demolishing the bar.
  It is also where you are all meeting with your employer, and where your employer is meeting you.
conversations: Urzamax:
conversations: human
conversations:  #Rass steps into the Rump, the bustle of the happy revelers reminds #Rass of blessed static. He grins st the rumble and walks to the rear of the bar. #Rass's red robes flutter as he walks, slowly soaking in the muttering of the crowds.
conversations: jesterjeff:
conversations: human
conversations:  Tristan had to admit he was not in his scene right now. Why the contact had chosen this place to meet and not, as he had suggested, somewhere more respectable was a question that was constantly going on his mind. It was a good thing he had hired Oril as his personal bodyguard for the goliath's very presence seemed to dissuade the worst of the locals from making an attempt at mugging him. Short of being a navigator and having a Space Wolf as a personal bodyguard, he couldn't think of a better werewolf to have around for protection.
  
  Once finally inside, he took a seat at one of the empty tables and started counting the seconds towards his contact's arrival.
conversations: Midboss:
conversations: human
conversations:  Passing through the tiny people, Oril finally find a seat big enough for him near his employer.
  
  " We're early, right? That's why he isn't here yet. "
  
  He poses his gigantic weapon on a nearby table, miraculously empty - and definitely not because of the giant placing stuff here.
  
   
   Spoiler: OOC 
  That may sound obvious, but Oril is not very bright &gt;&lt;
   
conversations: silphael:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Something like that, yes. If you want to order something while we wait, just put it on my tab."
  
  He looked at his comm-link, seeing if any messages were waiting.
conversations: Midboss:
conversations: human
conversations:  Rahn approached the table as well, grumbling while her legs and boots tapped out a quick staccato against the bar's metallic floor. Unfortunately for her, this was about as loud a stomping she could manage in her much lighter frame, the sound nearly drowned out beneath that of a busy bar.   "Underage drinking? I'll show him underage, that slaaneshi warp-boat scum-hole of a grumble mumble grumble..."   the cursing puttered out in inaudible mumblings by the time she neared the table. The tankard in her hand swelled with something fruity, nowhere near her drink of choice. Then again, a tankard of her drink of choice at this time would probably knock her flat out, not a good state to be in at this place.
  
  Puberty sucks.
  
  Especially as an elf since it threw your resistances towards a certain common intoxicant completely out of whack. There, an empty table! And then an oversized weapon was dropped at the table's surface, making it groan under the weight.
  
  All right, deep breaths. She could deal with that.
conversations: EdinoiZ:
conversations: human
conversations:  Why was a little girl sitting at their table ? She couldn't be older than.... what was the elven equivalent of 16 ? She really shouldn't be in this place, the poor tyke could get caught in a brawl and badly hurt.
  "Hum, young lady, I do not think you should stay here. This bar has some rough customers... it might be best to leave... preferably before security inspect your "ID". "
  She had to have used a fake ID to enter... or just sneaked in.
conversations: Midboss:
conversations: human
conversations:  " Wait, there was someone there? Oh. I'm sorry, little one. Here, let me remove that. "
  
  He gently removes the weapon from the table, putting it somewhere where it won't take too much place. And not yet in someone's face.
conversations: silphael:
conversations: human
conversations:  Could she deal with this? The large goliath had called her a "little one", fitting enough from his, what, three-point-two meters in height, or was it more? He was at least double her own height, likely more, and given her own "mere" 1.55 meters... De-aging sucks.
  
  The young merchant  on the other hand... 
    "Care to repeat that, hume?"   Rahn asked with her sweetest voice, cloaking the utter steel in her words. Her right eyebrow began to twitch slightly.   "Or did I simply mishear?"   The closest tables had quieted a bit at this, they wanted to listen in on what appeared to be a fight in the making. Something a few "ambitious" bouncers were looking to head off.
  
  Gently setting her mug on the table, Rahn violently whirled around pointing at one of the approaching bouncers as he opened his mouth to speak.   "And you,"   she spat vehemently!   "My ID checked out at the door and both times you lit it in the bar so if you say anything about underage drinking, so help me..."  
conversations: EdinoiZ:
conversations: human
conversations:  The bouncers at the Wild Rumpus are all large, capable men and women, and the venom in the elf's voice gives the approaching dragonborn only momentary pause. "Not over here for that, miss," he says gruffly, "Just makin' sure you know the rules about fighting in here." He gestures to a large sign hung over the bar, which reads simply  Fighting? Keep it away from the booze! Your medicae costs are yours to pay.  He shrugs his hulking shoulders, then saunters back to the door, grumbling something about "Stupid newbies".
  
  Suddenly, Tristan's comm-link chimes once, then its plain gray surface blurs and twists. It displays the words "Recorded Message Received" before showing the face of an eldarin in a scuffed void suit, his reedy, frail-looking features barely visible past its face mask. "Mister Liao, If you're seeing this, it means that I won't be able to meet you today," he hisses in a harsh whisper which, thankfully, only Tristan and those at the same table can hear, his eyes shifting nervously to something just off-screen. "The prototype worked, but that's exactly the problem. I'm holed up in (a location flashes across the screen and is immediately converted to a set of directions--on the ice planet Stygia, in Baator). Come quickly. They won't wait much longer."
  Then the screen goes blank again.
conversations: Urzamax:
conversations: human
conversations:  Well someone didn't like being challenged he noticed as the teenage elf suddenly went on her high horses. Someone had a short fuse. Afraid of what getting in a fight with a teenage girl in public would do to his image, he chose to try and deescalate matters.
  "Okay okay, no need to get angry over that."
  
  The child became a secondary concern as his comm rang. The message was bad news. Things were about to become a bit chaotic. He was not looking forwards to Baator, one wrong word and one owed a soul to a demon.
  
  "Friends, I fear our business here is over. We need to get back to the ship."
conversations: Midboss:
conversations: human
conversations:  Grabbing his weapon again, Orill stands up.
  
  " We go then. "
conversations: silphael: