Forums / Roleplaying / Ye Olde Taverne

*Shudders*

*blinks as her eyes adjust to the dim light* Where's the rum? 

*downs a pint of rum and slams it on the table* ANOTHER!

A brigand from Starta, an Orc, an amused soul, a killer. He stumbles into the bar, pretending he notices nothing, and orders a drink. 

"I'll have two Dragon's Breath ales and a saucer of milk for my friend here." I say, thumbing in the direction of my pet, hell-cat. It purrs perfect growls; hisses. "Don't worry, she's... almost tame." I slap two gold pieces on the counter, and a promissory note for 10 Starta prisoners.  

I watch the Emperor-Bartender with more than a hint of caution. He's the first of his kind. Imperial, haughty, and ugly. Actually, just ugly. An ugly emperor is enough to get under anyone's skin, even an Orc's. 

*walks into the bar*

"Been a long time since I have been in this shithole"

"Barkeep get me a drink!"

*Septim waves his hand and unscorches the back wall before sliding Osiris a drink, seemingly out of nowhere.*

*looks across the room from his scorched, battered, hacked and ale drenched seat at the bar in this dimly lit room*

"Ahem"
*He clears his throat in an attempt for the attention of Duke Himanil XII,  as he see's eyes he has seen many times, on many men eager for a battle worthy of a Kings eye's"

"I can quench that thirst you have there Duke, I am not a fine axe wielder as I was in my prime days of my youth, But I like to dabble in the odd duel here and there"

"what do you say?"
"a little warm up for future battles"

*He smiles awaiting the Dukes Reply*

I look over my shoulder, snort, and finish my Dragon's Breath. 

"hehaha"
*watches with amusement at the sight of the duke fumbling with his blade trying to attempt, But failing a swift draw*

"I can help you with that"
*he says seconds before he un hooks his axe and swipes at the dukes Belt buckle, one eye on the kitten perched in the old crumbling, maggot rotted oak wood rafters.
one eye glaring into the eye's of the Duke while always keeping the Dukes blade in his peripheral vision while it crashes to the tavern floor*

*he chuckles at what he has just heard The Emperor thinking*
"why would you [ insert necrophilia reference here ]"


 

*Desperately reaches for his blade on the floor and takes a guard stance only to have a smile spread across his face as he sees Slasher racing towards SFD*

"-the f*ck is going on in here?" said Charley as he closes the door behind him.  He brushes his cape aside and sits at the bar.

"Interesting crowd recently, eh Septim? A lot of new folks," chuckled Charley as he looked at all of the current visitors, including the Hell-cat, which sticks out to his glowing eyes.

"A Septim Shot please," he says politely.

*wipes the blood from his beard using his blood rag stuffed in his back pocket*

"what is this, martial law of the mind septim?
I can think what I want. but while your serving I will have one of your stronger beverages"

*smiles as he see's the chandelier dangling loose above the emperors head*
*Puts the gold onto the bar*

"just leave the drink on the bar, I need to wash this blood of my rag"
*walks into the toilet's and whispers an incantation of decay on the rope of the chandelier above the emperors head*

*wakes up from drink induced slumber*

"oh its you scientist.. I am still a feared god of mod abuse right?"

*falls back asleep rambling about being a king*

*Suddenly a savage wind blows open the door and rips through the room extinguishing all light*

*A hooded figure appears in the doorway, lightning flashing behind him.*

* The mysterious figure pulls back his hood but in the dark, none could make out his face. Then he strikes a match to light his pipe*

*A woman shrieks from the back, his grotesque features now revealed to all*

"Where can a guy get drunk 'round here, eh"

*throws an ale at Xerxes*

"Now now, Charley. We need waivers for that crap. And this place just started having goddamn customers again, so let's avoid killing ALL of them," said Septim before turning to the collective patrons. "Just to warn you all, the Drunk's Demise was designed to get Abrahamic Gods drunk. It WILL kill you. So if you want one, you need to sign a waiver." 

"Hey" Shouts Osiris at the barkeep

"I made the most viewed thread ever! do I get free booze now?"

*Burps as he throws the jug bearing ale away*

"You heard them!" said Charley as he handed the drinks out to those who signed.

*Grubbs walks in with a broom and clears away the Himanil corpse*

*Flings aside his cloak and leaps atop a table toppling patron's drinks*

"Uhh unh boss. No way, changed my mind"

* Shakes head vigorously*

"Get me a' ordinary drink, one that doesn't leave you convulsing" 

"What? You? Nahhhh," said Charley with a terribly fake smile as he tucks away the note to buy a tomb for his dead friend.

"Feck off...all of yeh," mumbles Charley as he goes back to sleep.