Forums / Roleplaying / Ye Olde Taverne

"No."

*thumps Senturu

"You've been gone from that position a while, it has all changed since then! Septim's continuing leaves of absence leave the bar unattended, and if it were not for me being the substitute barkeep, we might all get SOBER!"

"Infested has started..."

"He is here...on and off...damn it, Mikey's not here, if Septim leaves barkeep...yeah, I'd probably end up running the place. Now there's a thought."

I thought this was meant to discuss the dumbest things

*Zyrike walks in shoots everyone then shoots himself*

Stuff like that :P

Would there be a barkeep situation if the bar got blown up? ^_^

Hmmm...

*Zyrike goes into another dimension and blows up the old dimension and makes a new one exactly like this one but without any  barkeep troubles*

I seem to remember this is what we would talk about : )

once again, i join vu and everything is dead...

*Walks into the tavern.*

"Greetings all."

"I am John of the house of Berkeley.  You may call me John."

"Hello Sir Karzun Demonsul." says John as he walks into the tavern more.  The light sees some leather armor and a long flamberge reflects some of the light.  He sits down at the bar and rests the point of the sword on the ground.

"I know many things." said John.

"I cannot say I know of everyone's weapons, but I know of the people.  I have studied many people of this world..." said John as he sat at the bar.

Septim laughed before the blade suddenly ignited, showing a blue flame.

"It is called Firengard, the living sword of Cidel and the bane of many," said Septim.

Septim then used the living sword of Cidel to cut down the fist fighters. Afterwards, he sheathed his blade and looked up at Berkeley.

"My name is Prince Pelagius Septim the fourth, son of Valan Septim. What is it you call your sword?"

Demonsul drew his own peculiar sword, and looked warily at John. "I am afraid I do not share te public opinion on named blades. I use this sword, it serves me well. But I see no reason to give it a name. It is not alive, and it is not of any particularly special nature, once you get past the wards I cast on it."

A brown bay galloped down the dirt road, her driver kicking the spurs frequently.  A Winchester rifle was hanging from his back, and a Smith and Wesson in his hand.  He was dressed in black attire, along with a black bandana over his hair.  His skin was white, hair jet black, and his blue eyes shone out like the saphires in the sack tied to the saddle.  The man came to a halt in front of a tavern, and jumped off the horse, sack in hand, barging through the front doors.
The tavern went quiet as the man with the sack walked up to the counter, glaring at anyone staring to closely.  He set the sack on the counter, and took a look at the bartender.

"I'll take a shot of whiskey," the man said in a hoarse voice.

[[Haha, talk about getting into character.  Tis me, Travis/Arvious/Plato/hell-bringer.]]

Mr. Larson discreetly put his hand on the pistol and looked the barkeep in the eyes.

"What bounties?" he said in a threatening tone, and polished off the shot.

[[It's gonna take a while to get used to Bill. :-D]]

*Continues talking because nothing happened*

"Well, what drinks do you have here?"

*Zyrike walks in with his .44 cal gun showing like a cow on steroids. "Hey barkeep you seen this guy around?" shows a picture of Blacktooth Bill Larson.*

"Can I have chocolate milk?" Electric randomly asks Septim.

*Demonsul gets up, and takes his accustomed seat at the bar.

"Septim, two Septim Shots. As soon as you can."

*Septim fills the orders, but does not give Zryike his Drunk's Demise.

"Sign the waiver..."

*Septim takes Zryike's wallet.

*Septim enjoyed flying around the world fifty times, as he saw many neat places. He will make sure to steal Zryike's wallet more often.

Larson watched all of this, still glaring at the hobo in the corner.

"Heya, people!" Travis yelled.  "Somebody gimme a scotch!"