Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Pintel 08-08-04, 03:11 PM	Welcome to me fine eatery, I be Pintel, your barkeep and host and don’t mind the mess or company, the foods hot and the drinks wet.” The Burnt Tavern Inn & Pub Between the large oak beams supporting the ceiling and the squeaky floor boards below, sat many a patron imbibing fresh ale or dark rum. Somewhere within the smoke and shadows off in a dark corner sat a weathered and brash seafarer. He chews on the unlit stem of a pipe as he waits patiently for his evening meal to arrive. A half full tankard of ale sits fastened tightly in his left hand as he keeps a wary eye on those within the establishment, but most importantly he watches the door.
Lord Tarran 08-08-04, 03:26 PM	The door creaks open, as a boy, dressed in comfortable looking blue tunics and breeches, a long azure cloak covering his shoulders, and most of his body. His skin looks to be light when not tanned by time on the sea. His hair is ruddy blond. He appears to be no older than fifteen, though his eyes give him away. They are blue, within blue, an ocean of eternity in his head. With a powerful rolling gait, he walks to the counter, swinging himself into a stool. Slamming two gold coins onto the counter, he orders in a voice like crashing waves, Get me your finest ale, Barkeep. My ship is grounded and I feel like drowning.
malik21 08-08-04, 04:19 PM	Yet another man enters the bar: http://animeshack.com/escaflowne/wallpaper/800x600index/escaflowne02_800.html He has a hand hidden beneath his robes while the other waves freely as he walks He walks in and smiles at the patrons and sits down behind The weird freaky ocean guy. "Hmm,...Do you have any chilled wine?I'm parched.
Pintel 08-08-04, 04:38 PM	Pintel finds himself behind the bar as the door opens, he watches as the stranger draws near. “Good evening lad.” The barkeep eyes him up and down… “M’mm…sure your up for an ale laddy?” He looks up as yet another guest stumbles in. "Chilled wine ya say? yes we do." Pintel then turns back toward the kitchen. "Hey Drake! ...fetch up a fresh bottle of Port from the cellar."
Lord Tarran 08-08-04, 05:25 PM	I'm up for it. Don't let this body fool you. I've probably seen as many summers as you. His voice is as cold and disdain full as blizzard ice, as he looks down at his form. Cracking his knuckles, he slams them into the counter. He draws out a marble from his robes, and begins to run it along his hands, as if playing, though his eyes are not. So how about that ale, and I'll tell you my tale once I've downed enough tongue loosener.
Devourer of Dreams 08-08-04, 07:49 PM	A figure enters, shrouded in a dark cloak. He quickly walks to the far corner of the room and sits down silently. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Et tu, DM?
Arcuna 08-08-04, 08:03 PM	A hooded man walks in in a simple, but nice looking nonetheless, cloak. He walks up to the counter and sits down a couple chairs away from the other two. Making sure that his face stays hidden, he asks in a calm and relatively nice voice, Do you, by any chance, have...cider? ((For once I'm not playing an overpowered character :D ))
Pintel 08-08-04, 08:16 PM	“Alright sir, ale it is!” Pintel swiftly grabs a tankard and fills it with the best stuff he has on tap. “Here ya go.” As he serves the short fellow he keeps one wary eye on two cloaked figures entering. “Welcome my good man cider be one of our specialties made locally in an orchard in the valley.” Just then a young beardless dwarf pops through the swinging kitchen door with the bottle of Port. “Ah master Drake! Very good, very good.”
malik21 08-08-04, 08:31 PM	Neek((The guy with the purple tear tattoo.With all the unamed people I decided to go ahead a put his name in)) digs in his pocket for some gold,eyeing the mysterious figures laughing to himself. 'Cider?!How old is he,10? he thinks.
Arcuna 08-08-04, 08:46 PM	((You realize that cider is often alcoholic, right?)) Lyon-Thai sips the warm tingling drink and sighs happily to himself. He reaches into his pocket, takes out several gold pieces, and hands them to the bartender.
malik21 08-08-04, 08:54 PM	((Nope...But still CIDER??)):D
Arcuna 08-08-04, 09:02 PM	((You'll see :P ))
Lord Tarran 08-08-04, 09:13 PM	Downing his liquid courage, and then slamming his tankard down, the boy still seems downtrodden. Motioning for another one, the boy snatches the marble out of the air. He takes out another one, and begins to play with it, waiting for Pintel to return with his drink. When the man draws in, he says, Sorry that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Mari, short for Marius Wavebreaker.
Devourer of Dreams 08-09-04, 03:52 PM	The man in the far corner of the room glances at the barkeeper. "I'll take wine, please." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Et tu, DM?
Avalar ~ Mechail 08-12-04, 07:51 AM	(Hoping it's around nightfall) 'It'll be warm and there will be ale for you bastard.' A big man with a warm darkbrown beard spoke to a much smaller man with a face comparable to that of a rat. If you'd ask the big man that is. 'After we get some liquid and some decent food along with some rest we'll seek out a smithy tomorrow first thing.' The smaller one only nodded, secretly setting his sights on his own planning. Hoping to get rid of the bearded one much sooner than planned. They quickly reached the tavern. The bigger one wasn't very glad to see the crowd inside. He had hoped it would not be crowded. Anyway he would, they would, have to take their chances. And so they did. A chain linked the small man's right hand to the big man's left hand. they held it secure and half hidden under their cloaks as they entered the tavern and walked up to the counter. Smiling broadly the big man ordered. 'Good day sir, could I, ehm.. we, (smile broadened) have something to eat and drink please?' The smaller one stood softly shaking his head 'cause of the big man's appearance.
Arcuna 08-12-04, 12:03 PM	Lyon-Thai quietly scoots down one chair away from the two suspicious men. He continues to drink his cider slowly, cautiously.
malik21 08-12-04, 05:13 PM	Neek,slightly drunk, walks up to the bar and trips.He lands between the short a big mans chained hands. "Than' for cat'hing meh' bois.You tooo gyot some o' teh fastest raflaxes in da' wes'." He gets up and sits down. " 'Eay!I wan' som' wine wi'ou' ael the alcyhol"
Pintel 08-12-04, 08:10 PM	Pintel darts about getting orders served, he sends forth two of his barmaids to check on the various tables about the pub. Finally he returns to the bar as he delivers the boy his drink. “Well met Mister Marius, glad to ‘ave ya aboard …can I fetch ya any fare from me fine kitchen?” Before he could get the fellow’s answer the door swung open once more as an odd pair of gents entered. Pintel quickly took Marius’s order then moved to help the newcomers. “Good eve gentleman, just tapped a fresh barrel of ale and me cook has some fine venison stew steamin’ hot.” As Neek stumbles into the two men Pintel gives him the eye. "Aye, drunk on one mug of me fine Port again Mister Neek?"
malik21 08-12-04, 09:17 PM	"Adbfsrgswer"his words are now so sluggish that they are hard to understand.
Arcuna 08-12-04, 09:30 PM	The hooded man stands up, sure to keep his hood on. Perhaps I should escort him to his room? he asks as he gulps the rest of his cider.
Lord Tarran 08-12-04, 09:50 PM	Please, yes Pintel, could you fetch me something that isn't seafood, don't much care what. His eyes glint like ice as the drunkard begins to cause trouble. With a whip of his hand, a globe of water appears over the mans head, dumping about 5 gallons in a stream of freezing cold water. He snorts quietly, That should sober him up.
Arcuna 08-12-04, 09:53 PM	Lyon-Thai attempts to get out of the way, but he gets soaked in the front. He looks a little worried at first, but passes it off as no big deal.
malik21 08-12-04, 09:57 PM	((Your characters are mean.I can't go one post without you doing something like that:D )) With the sudden shock of the water all around him.He stares at Marius coldly before going to his room shivering.
Lord Tarran 08-12-04, 10:21 PM	Now laughing uncontrollably, Marius drinks some more of his ale, motioning to the bar stools nearby, asking his now soaked companions to sit. My name is Marius Wavebreaker. What's yours?
Arcuna 08-12-04, 10:27 PM	The hooded man sits down next to Marius and asks for another cider. My name is Lyon-Thai. Pleasure to meet you. :)
Lord Tarran 08-12-04, 10:45 PM	Nice to meet you Lyon-Thai. And what brings you to the Burnt Tavern?
Arcuna 08-12-04, 10:56 PM	I just need a place to stay for a while, he replies. He takes another sip of his cider, then continues. I travel from place to place, never staying in any particular area for too long. This place seemed quiet enough for me, so I figured I'd stay a night or two. What about you?
Kirya 08-18-04, 07:53 PM	Outside a scuffle could be heard. A few loud voice, then the sound of punchs being landed. With out warning a man came flying throw the door, landing very heavy on the ground of the bar. From the now open bar door, a tall Dark Elf women steped in. A Black Trench coat about her but parted enof to tell the women was not modest. A Vest of Silk she wore , with silver weblike lace inbetween were the vest parted. Her Legs and forarms sporting Platium Guards, etched with symbols of the moon. Prehaps more striking then her beauty were the Dark elfs Mitheral Silver hair, that blowed in a breeze that was not thier. It was then that your eyes meet hers... Ice Cold.. crackling with some inner energy. Taking a few steps in she looked about the bar, then down at the man that even now was trying to get to his feet. "... Curse you Drow Bitc....URGggs.." the man began to speak but was quickly silenced by a kick to the nuts. Leaning over the Dark Elf grabed the man by the collar and rather forcefuly picked him off the floor. Looking over at the bar tender she spoke quickly. "... Pardon this garbage..." And spun around heaving the man clean throw the doors. Dustying her hands off as if she had been digging in the dirt, she quitly closed the door of the bar and returned to the barkeep, droping a few gold on the counter she politly spoke. The Crackling energy in her eyes lessoning until barly able to be seen. ".. for the trouble... stew and a cup of Cidar... unfirmented please.. " Then motioned to one of the tables in the bar that was least crowed. She began to make her way thier.
Pintel 08-18-04, 10:08 PM	At the sounds of a fracas, Pintel swiftly ceased his bartending as he drew a mace from under the counter. His eyes quickly darted from the Drow falling to the floor to the one entering. He lightly bounced the shaft of the mace in his hand as the dark elf addressed the situation. It would be much appreciated if ya kept yer business and trash outside miss. At the sounds of the gold dropping to the counter Pintel rapidly switched gears.On second thought, welcome milady! …yer order will be right up, thank ya kindly.
Lady Snowblood 08-18-04, 10:30 PM	Before the door closed, in stepped a tall but slender figure of a woman. Her long silky black hair fell past her shoulders and her red silk cape shimmered in the lantern light. As she moved toward the bar, most patrons could see her fine ivory handed katana fastened at her side.
malik21 08-20-04, 12:44 AM	Neek reappears (with a change of clothes) and mumbles something. A bucket of scolding hot water appears above Marius drenching him and those around him. Neek smiles and returns to his seat.
Valarian's Beloved 08-20-04, 04:27 AM	A form wearing a red hooded cloak walks into the Inn. She finds a quiet table and orders a glass of water as she takes out a book She reads a few pages before inquiring about a room for the evening, then takes rest for awhile.
Fiorentina 08-20-04, 05:38 AM	Another cloaked figure inters the common room. She sits next to VB and talks with her a few moments before leaving.
Lord Tarran 08-21-04, 03:08 AM
Lord Tarran 08-21-04, 03:10 AM	Well you see, my ship grounded. I'm a water mage, and captain, for the ship Osprey. Damned thing got caught on a sand bar when we were running from a kraken. So, while we wait for repairs, me and my crew are waiting around town. I chose this inn because of the fine business oppurtunities that walk in the door. He grin is somewhat predatory.
Arcuna 08-21-04, 11:02 AM	Looking around the inn, Lyon-Thai responds, It certainly attracts...unique people, he says with a laugh.
Ssin'urn Streea Ssinjin 08-22-04, 04:13 AM	A drowess enters the inn. She sits at a table, orders a glass of spicey drow wine and takes out a rather old looking yellowed scroll. The dark elf shakes her head, rolls up the scroll and ventures back into the Underdark.
Switchfoot 09-03-04, 06:21 PM	It was just about this time that the door creaked open part way, just wide enough to let a halfling slip through and into the pub.
Pintel 09-06-04, 09:39 PM	As the night wears on, Pintel and Drake work feverously to serve all patrons in a timely fashion. Pin leans over the bar toward the halfling...What shall it be my small friend?
JT Klasky 09-06-04, 09:51 PM	Near the flickering fire light of the hearth sat a well worn traveler, his woolen cloak stained and torn from many long journeys on foot through the woodlands. He quietly nurses a tankard of ale keeping a wary eye on all that goes on. The stranger’s eyes grow large at the sight of the Lady adorned in a crimson cape making entry into the pub; his arm quickly brushes aside his cloak revealing studded leather armor and broad sword.
malik21 09-06-04, 09:59 PM	At the sight of the oncoming battle Neek watches on with anticipation.He thinks to himselfMaybe one of them will die,If they do their bodies will make enough entertainment for this Necro
Pintel 02-28-05, 09:24 PM	As the sun begins it's ascent in the morning sky, Pintel lies fast asleep upstairs after a long night. Two ladies can be seen scurrying about the main room downstairs gathering up empty plates and tankards. Scattered about the room can be seen a number of patrons passed out from their early morning binge, amongst them, a few early risers having breakfast. From the kitchen the sound of chopping and clanging pots can be heard along with the aroma of bacon and fresh bread. “We be a non discriminating establishment, all forms of villainy and scallywags are welcome, be it you have a hefty purse.” ---The proprietor
Savael 03-01-05, 02:03 PM	As the tavern comes back to life after another hefty night of revelry, a group of people can be observed sitting by one of the larger tables along the main rooms western wall. Among those seated is a huge mountain of a man, complete with a peak of shaggy brown hair and grizzled beard to boot. The frequent curses and swearwords he emits from time to in the direction of the figure to his right, marks him as one of northern decent. To the left of him however, is seated a man of considerably lesser build. Chocolate dark brown hair, carefully formed into one long braid, stretches from the crown of his head and down onto his shoulders. Those selfsame shoulders are themselves covered by a motley old bearskin cloak. He scratches his cheek wearily for a second and gives a small shrug before casting a long yellow-eyed glance over to the man on his left. Holding bearskin cloak’s glance for a moment, the third figure pulls one long-fingered hand through his greying hair, a worried frown upon his face. His other hand firmly holding on to several weathered old playing-cards, four of them to be exact, pressed close to his chest. A glance from greyhair over at the northman is returned by a low-keyed grunt, carrying with it the trembling baritones of violent murder should he hesitate to put his cards on the table for another moment. The grey-haired man’s worried frown lingers for another few seconds as he eyes search frantically for a trace of compassion somewhere – anywhere – in the northmans face. A moment later his face splits into a yellow-toothed grin as he puts the cards face up on the table. As one, bearskin sighs heavily as he buries his face in one hand while the northman howls in frustration – much to the glee of greyhair, who’s name was Percev Thennall, by the way. “Just tell me once again” says bearskin, in a tired voice “how exactly did you pull that off?” Percev leaned back upon his rickety chair, cracking his knuckles in glee as he answered “I’ve a-got more experience in these games than both you and Grònbjòrn can hope to hold of in a lifetime, that’s how I managed to pull that off. Ex-per-i-en-ce. Got that?” Bearskin waved him off at this, turning instead to put a comforting hand upon Grònbjòrn the northman’s shoulder. Whatever effect this had on Grònbjòrns current mood was unknown, and one might have wondered why the small Percev looked so at ease when bearskin rose from the table and ambled over to the counter in search of something to drink, leaving the man dwarfed next to the hulking form of Grònbjòrn, who had gone back to spitting curses and swearwords like a fountain. “Oy! Serving wench! Bring a few spiced ales over to our table right quick, would ya? bearskin called as he reached one of the bar maids busy mopping up the festivities from the last evening. In order to facilitate a quick arrival of said ales, he put a few silver coins in the barmaids hand. "And some of those fresh breads as well" he said, before returning to his seat.
masonicword 03-01-05, 05:05 PM	Into the Inn walked a man of perhaps only five feet and eight inches of height and perhaps of about one hundreded and seventy five pounds of wieght. He wore a very well made lamb skin tunic of the color of earth that only had adorned around the neck hole a small but finely woven ring of red and blue thread that was no more than one inch wide. He had dark hair which he wore quite short. He had dark eyes and olive skin. He had no facial hair and there was a serenity about his persona. He carried only one waterskin, a small pouch, a length of rope wrapped tightly around his belt, a small square buttoned pocket also on the belt and a knapsack slung over his shoulder which crossed his body like a bandolier would. The walked with a hand carved walking stick. His only note of whence he came from was a very simple necklace which hung easily off his neck that had the symbol of the square and compass crafted of fine gold, very small but easily visible in the light of the inn's lanterns: the symbol of the Knights Templar. But what was a Temple Monk, especially a Templar Monk doing away from the Templar shrines? The man easily walked up and sat at the bar and placed one solitary silver piece down and asked, "Ginsing root juice with a squirt of lemon if you please." His voice was low, steady and inviting; he was a man definetely at ease with life, himself and the world. The man replaced his "walking stick" to his back, sliding it easily into a small loop at the knapsack's strap made just for it.. without so much as a slowing of movement. It was quite apparent to anyone that this man had probably seen a few conflicts in his life. As the Bartender prepared the drink the man then slid a single gold piece onto the bartop he said, "and this one is for information, I want to know if you have seen or heard about some fugitives who apparently escaped from the prison of Remranch about four days ago who may have passed this way".
Firethorn 03-01-05, 07:39 PM	Walkar could feel the warmth of the sun as it crested over the nearby mountain range, a welcome sensation after a cold dark night traveling the road. His horse had taken up lame a few days back and could no longer continue, thus he left him behind with a farmer and pressed on by foot. But now the gates of the city loomed on the horizon, it wouldn’t be much longer before he could rest his weary feet in the local pub. Now if only he could catch a ride on one of the many carts and wagons headed to town with their daily delivery of supplies. Walkar removed his dark grey cloak to let the warmth begin to penetrate his battle worn leather armor. He stopped a moment to shake out the dirt as a wagon approached. The fatigued traveler draped the cloak over his shoulder and waited. “Good morn to you sir, ‘tis a great start to what looks to be another wonderful day in this here valley, wouldn’t you say?” The rickety wagon drifted on pass him, the grey haired driver never even made eye contact with, he just whistled for the two mules pulling to speed up. “Why thank you sir, but no I don’t need a lift to town!” Walkar shouted over the sound of the wagon as it left him in a cloud of dust. _______________ Upon the old stone wall, amongst the vines, hung a weather beaten sign... "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." Walkar Cordale ...Soldier of Misfortune
Illuminadus 03-01-05, 09:48 PM	Blue light, blossoming slowly, was the first detail he could see. The light slowly sharpened, molded, until the surrounding forest was visible within his mind. Silence confronted his ears, yet he could hear all the sounds of the regular residents of a forest. Not the sounds, no, the echoes of the thought of making sound before the noise was created in an audible note. The man slowly rose and quickly broke down his simple camp, stuffing his make-shift tent and blanket in his backpack. The man dressed, then began again upon the wood-cutter's trail towards a simple town, where the one he was looking for was said to be..... The bar door swung open silently, and a man entered the tavern. His boot steps were accompanied by the tapping of an entricately carved, black cane that was held in the man's right hand. He wore a silk, hand-woven cloak over a velvet black shirt. His pants, of the same material and color of his shirt, met with black boots at the bottom of his figure. A polished silver circlet crowned his head, where pure black hair hung to his shoulders. The color of the man's skin was of the palest color, yet it looked oddly, eerly, healthy. He strode easily to the bar, layingly the cane horizontally in front of him as he sat lightly upon the seat. "Perhaps a glass of warm wine. Blood Red Ochre if you have it." As the man talked, hints of gleaming white canine teeth, longer than what should be, showed through his blood-red lips. (( In case no-one knows, the two paragraphs are for two different characters.))
Pintel 03-02-05, 06:01 AM	As the ladies downstairs pick up the pace with the arriving patrons, Pintel begins to stir from a short night's rest. Rolling over he looks at the rough hewn ceiling beams above him as he listens to the sounds from the tavern below. Pintel doesn't linger long before he is up and preparing for the day ahead.
Firethorn 03-02-05, 10:01 PM	Walkar watched in disgust as the wagon chugged onward toward the town. “That’s been my week in a nut shell.” He muttered softly to himself when he was surprised to see the wagon stop. The old man peered around the side and waved him forward. The wore out soldier found a burst of energy and swiftly trotted up. “Thank you sir, I am Walkar Cordale…from Bleathland.” He reached out a hand to the man, but the old gent just kept his hands gripped tightly to the reins. He looked Walkar up and down; taking note of his two stag handled daggers tucked neatly into his belt along with a pair of short swords. “Aye son, as long as ya don’t plan on using them thar blades… ya can hop aboard, c’mon make it snappy! …ain’t got all’s day ya know" _______________ Upon the old stone wall, amongst the vines, hung a weather beaten sign... "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." Walkar Cordale ...Soldier of Misfortune
Weathertop 03-06-05, 09:28 PM	After stabling his horse, Elór, a leather clad half-elf, made his way to the inn. Upon entry he found an empty table near the hearth, upon which he laid a small pack. It didn’t take long for one of the serving ladies to take his order and be off. The half breed removed his crimson cloak and positioned it on the table along with the pack.