World's End Bar

[Mall]

This place is populated by all manner of beings, and it is possessed of something of a festive atmosphere. There's a bar and several tables. You can learn about quests by looking at the board.

The bar bustles with energy and many people come and go. Rumor has it that this bar and it's owner Alice, have seen and survived the end of the world. Alice smiles at you as you enter. This place is a testiment to steadfast resolve of the human spirit.

A shapeless congerie of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and unforming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front moves from table to table, sobbing in a language you don't recognize.

[Cliff]

The Irrdu gazed into his beer, bought to fit in rather for any real reason. His milky-white eyes closed, thinking aboout his teacher, an old woman with eyes atrophied with lack of use. He pondered her words regarding sight and perceptions, how what one saw rarely was true and more often was merely what he wished to see. She taught him how to cast aside his sight and reach out with his perceptions to touch the minds of those near him. How she taught him to see the thoughts of those whom he linked to. He closed his nigh-blind eyes and meditated, touching the minds of everyone in keystone, getting a general feel of the people's thoughts. They were calm, more or less, with a hint of anxiety pervading their minds.
He sighed, and took a healthy pull of beer.

[Aissance]

As she stepped into the Bar she shook herself lightly to cast off the sheen of rain that had accumulated on her blue coat. As her eyes adjusted to the room she looked about and saw who she had come for. She had sensed his mid searching through the city and came as quickly as she could. Walking over to the table where the Irrdu was, she sat down (well as well as a unicorn can) beside him saying nothing. She could tell that he was disturbed by something but could not figure out what. She too was concerned about the way things were going on Welstar her home planet. The natural world spoke of it to her in the fast and quick almost unnatural thunderstorms, as well as the animals who she tended to who ran away in fear at the sight of any gifted one.

[Cliff]

He nodded at the unicorn, admiring her mane through his minds eye, his own were only good for silhouettes and getting a general idea of what he looked at. He murmured a soft ‘hello’ that was nearly drowned out by the odd bubbly creature that spoke in its native tongue. He reached up to stroke her mane, then took another pull of alchohol. He withdrew his tendrils of thought and centered them around the unicorn.

[Aissance]

Aissance thought to herself, 'you are in my mind aren't you.'
Cliff nodded to her and she finally spoke, 'I am sure that you have sensed the disturbance on Welstar, I've noticed changes in the weather and in the natural environment, but I think that this has a gifted one at its root.'
She furrowed her brow thinking of the possibilities but could come up with no ideas as to what was causing such a disturbance that was being felt subconsciously by all the residents of the planet.

[Cliff]

He gazes into his drink, pondering. He spoke softly, 'What makes you think that there is a Gifted one behind it? I felt that this unease was from nothing normal. But I didn't know anything more than that... It reminds me of my old teacher.. she might use this as a puzzle for me to work on. But I have not seen hide nor hair of her in years... so I assume her dead until proven otherwise. So what are your thoughts?'

[Aissance]

Taking the Irrdu's words into consideration Aissance stated, 'I think this has to do with a gifted one because it does not seem as though the natural forces of Welstar could cause such a disturbance'
Aissance looked the Irrdu in the eyes and stated, 'Who was your teacher anyways, I always hear you speak of her surely if we went to find her she could give us some answers to this problem, assuming she still lives.'

[Cliff]

He spoke, as always in a soft voice, 'Her name is irrelevant, as I'm not entirely sure she was telling the truth when she said it.' He finished off his beer and leaned into Aissance, purring quietly. 'Honeshtly, the only thing that could be meshshing shtuff up on this scale is a cultisht, necromancer, pshionicisht or...uhm...a big plot... by a non-Gifted....which doesn't help much, I know.

[Carnely]

The bell over the door jangled frantically as a tall muridan in a green leather coat stepped into the bar. Reddish eyes quickly scanned the patrons, settling on the irrdu. He strode up to the table, stood over Cliff and shook back his dark dreadlocks, sending droplets of moisture flying.
"I'm Marshall Krysospas of the Sentinel guild. Your name and place of origin, sir", he snarled formally, taking out a battered leatherbound notebook with thoroughly nibbled corners.

[Cliff]

He blinked slowly, wondering what he'd done this time. He spoke calmly. "Cliff... no surname, this incarnation is from a village in Wysoom." He wiped the water droplets from his face.
"Why do you ask? D'you need me for something?" His blind eyes blinked confusion.

[Carnely]

"There'd been reports of a psionic disturbance from all over Keystone, sir. Unauthorized large-scale mental contact is prohibited within the cities and townships of Retroverse. A mindprint's been traced to this bar, wherein I discovered your presence and pursued necessary actions." The muridan scribbled something in his notebook and snapped it closed. "However, this being your first offense, I'm authorized to dispense a warning not to do it again. Consider yourelf advised to not do it again, sir."

[Cliff]

The irrdu nodded, as this made sense to him. "Is there any way to get authorization, then? I was instructed by Katherine to get a general idea of how the citizens , and I do not wish to fail her, for rather obvious reasons." He winced slightly, as though remembering a time when he had done so. "But for Sikkar's sake, tell me I won't need to wade through dozens of levels of bureaucracy." His eyes closed and he took another pull of his beer.

[Carnely]

Only the sentinel's bristly whiskers betrayed his amusement, twitching as he stifled a chuckle. "Much as I'd like to say that, I'm supposed to be telling people the truth. You need a letter of purpose, signed by your guildmistress and detailing your duties, in triplicate. Then you pick up three copies of Form #91.b, only take a few extra because they're a bit convoluted and you might have trouble filling 'em out. Take them to Kira Lang on third floor of the city offices, second room on the left. She'll pass them on to those that need a copy, and you should get a permit within two weeks. Unless they don't give you one."
He shrugged. "I guess it's easier to find out how people think by watching them. Good day, sir, ma'am." He saluted and walked out, his ears folding back to keep out the rain.

[Cliff]

He stared at the door blankly. Then, suddenly, he roared, "BARTENDER! Get me enough beer to drink a titan jomsviking into submission!

[Sylvia]

"Shshs(hic)orry, but (hic)e'shshsh freshshsh(hic) out." calls out a voice from the other end of the bar. It belongs to a very large blue dragon sitting by herself at a table littered with so many bottles and kegs that she may very well be telling the truth. Some of these might still have a drop or two in them, but it wouldn't take a mind reader to know there isn't.