Argo's Moxy

[reiphil]

The tavern, Argo's Moxy, is known by most of the inhabitants of Canton. It is a large building framed by logs of wood that are as wide as a wagon. The drinks are cheap, the waitresses beautiful, and the food palatable. Many come here to relax after a hard days work and although it seems to be a rough and tumble place, there is a policy of no fighting as fighting would get you banned for life.

As you open the doors to Argo's Moxy, a broad man behind the bar with a toothy grin smiles at you. What brings you in today?

(Please post your public profiles as to what others may know about you. If you don't have one then post that)

[The Keeper]

steps in out of the cold and gives the bartender a curt nod. Stepping past he takes care not to bump the broad man.

"Ah its only you Mathis. Sorry to say but I have no one looking for a forest guide today."

Mathis acknowledges the barkeep's comment and continues on to a corner table where he can be alone. A beautiful waitress comes over to take his order to which Mathis answers with unusual hand and finger gestures.

"A pint of ale is it?"

Mathis gestures again this time slower and more deliberately.

"Oh, mulled wine! You got it Mathis." and the waitress hurries off to fill the order.

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My character is known in the city of Canton as Mathis of Hollowgrove, the mute forest guide and hunter. Acknowledged as one of the better forest guides for hire (if he is willing to take the job), Mathis rarely comes into the city itself. He spends most of his time in the Hollowgrove forest in his encampment hunting and trapping. Mathis only comes into the city to trade the occasional set of animal skins or meat. He always carries a shortbow across his back, his hunting knife at his waist, and is always cloaked under his wickwolf cowl. No one in Canton has heard him speak. He mainly communicates through hand and finger gestures (ASL) which some of the people he deals with have begun to pick up. Not much else is known about Mathis.

[kore]

"Raphe, I hope you don't think me naïve. Those stories may have won you a few girls growing up, but if you're interested in a woman, such as myself, you'll have to stop playing games."

The barmaid, Charlotte, winks at him and smiles kindly before turning to tend to a patron who just entered the building. Twelve years his elder, Raphe believes her to be the most intelligent, beautiful woman in Canton. It's hard to believe that she has a son only a few years younger than himself. The boy has his mother's wit, though some might call him foolish, as he has taken up apprenticeship at the Arcanist Guild.

The man who now has Charlie's attention looks vaguely familiar. Not the man himself but the wickwolf cowl that shrouds his head. The stranger makes some hand gestures as Charlie asks for his order and makes a few more as she has seemingly misunderstood.

"You got it, Mathis."

That's it, Mathis; the cowl, the hand signals. He's a guide whom his father, Arthur, contracted several years ago to help with a particular case he was working. The man never spoke a word, but Arthur was familiar with the gestures and seemed to communicate well enough.

Raphe stood from his stool at the bar, picked up his whisky, and crossed the room to a table in a corner near one of the windows facing the street. He unslung the banded leather baldric from his shoulder and draped it, and the fastened sword, over the back of the chair into which he sat.

Raphe cracked the slender window and pulled a pipe from a pocket in his cloak and proceeded to pack some spice leaves. He pulled a twig from a pocket in his surcoat and lit it from the candle at the table. The day seems to be turning out quiet in Canton today.

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Raphe is the 17 year old son of Canton's leading consulting investigator, Arthur Halcyon, and has recently stepped out on his own to follow in his father's footsteps. Most people know of him due to being the son of Arthur, who has significant clout in Canton and some places outside of Canton, but know little else. He spent several years working and studying with his father from which Raphe was exposed to many people (a few of whom, like Charlie, he keeps in contact) and facets of life in and around Canton.

Raphe is about 6 feet tall with an athletic build. His short, dark brown hair falls in neat, wavy locks upon his head. He wears an assortment of banded leather and riptur scale armor with a chainmail hood attached to his surcoat. Most notable is the baldric and belt to which are slung two sabers.

[David]

Alya Hunter enters Argo's Moxy, a weary slump to her shoulders and a wary look in her eye. She brightens a bit as she sees the man behind the counter, whom she has known most of her life. (and whom I shall call Mox for the purpose of this post).

" 'Allo Mox." She says, moving up to the bar and dropping the bulky travel pack slung across her back with a sigh.

"Hello, All-ee-aa," he replies, enunciating her name like he's trying to remember it right.

She rolls her eyes. "I haven' been gone that long."

Looking around the room, Alya takes note of Mathis in the corner, and signs to him what she hopes to be a friendly hello. (They would've crossed paths enough that she'd try to learn the basics of his signing.) Her gaze then lingers a moment too long on the man in the expensive-looking armor, and for a moment she tenses. When he lights his pipe and turns toward the window, she relaxes slightly.

Turning back to Mox, she continues, "but I have been there and back again a few times now without a proper meal or a proper payday. Cut me a break on some o' your good slop?"

Mox replies, with a toothy smile, "for you, Alya, two silvers."

Alya laughs, then fishes around in her pack for the two silvers, (a standard price for such a meal). She pays the man and takes a seat in the middle of the tavern facing the door, her travel pack filling the bench next to her.

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Alya has been a scout for the Canton Watch since the last major brigand raid several years ago, when she was recruited out of the hunter's village in the forest. She is a regular at Argo's Moxy whenever she is in town, and speaks with an odd mix of city and country accents that is right at home in this bar on the edge of Canton.

Alya is of average height and athletic, with fair skin weathered by a life outdoors and dark hair that is braided and tucked into the hood of her leather cloak. Her clothing is also mostly of leather, save for her boots, which are reinforced with steel. She carries a shortbow and quiver of arrows strapped to her travel pack. A light hunting axe and featureless wooden mask hang from her belt.