Dark Horse Tavern

[Leah]

Leah ducks into the Dark Horse Tavern, glancing behind her in confusion, but seeing only a thick mist where the clearing behind her had been. "Hmm," she says aloud, shrugging and heading for a table in the corner. She drapes her moonbeam cloak on the back of the chair, along with her hunting bow, but she keeps her sword and small dagger by her side out of habit. Leah sits back and watches the shady characters of the tavern with a look of keen interest.

[kickme]

Kickme walks in mumbling something about evil bankers stealing his money. He glances round, nods at Leah before sitting in a corner, watching the door.

[Leah]

Leah returns Kickme's nod. She orders a mug of hot ale from the bar, handing the bartender ten gold pieces. She sips it and becomes lost in thought as she continues watching the people around her.

[Gonzaga]

Gonzaga slowly walked in, cloak drawn tight to protect her from the light mist outside. Her slim fingers loosened the drawstring and hood laid back as she sat at the bar silently, scanning the bar she looked to the bartender and handed over a few pieces of gold for her usual flagoon of ale.

[MonkeymanJ]

MonkeymanJ walks in the tavern with an all black robe and cape set, a sword with a shining silver blade at his waist, a strung willow bow at his back and a quiver half full of arrows... He sits down with a flagon full of ale, and starts slowy drinking, involved with nothing but his drink... Reveals his face to be complete with a set cuts and scrapes.

[DruneSilentarrow]

Drune walks in, taking off his gloves and looking around, the hood of his gray-white cloak is up, not quite hiding his face. He walks over to the old man with an ornate bag with the initals M E on them.

[onedarkdemon1]

Onedarkdemon1 walks in and says "wow i havnt been here for a year or two i hope people still remeber my classic thign to do here" then he carves a map to the holy grail in the table

[Layla]

Layla strolls in, carelessly brushing aside the mist in front of her eyes. She walks over to her usual empty table with all it's many etchings and places her pack next to it, and her basking glass filled with a few coins of gold on the table.
Taking out the flute from her pack, she curtsies, smiles at everyone and raises the flute to her lips, then starts playing a quick, jovial melody, hoping someone will donate today.

[Valancy]

Valancy slides in the door, hoping not to have been noticed, and heads for a corner--that is, until she sees Layla and her flute. Intrigued, she steps forward, placing a few coins into the glass. She then reaches into her pack and pulls out her slightly battered tin flute, wrapping a hauntingly clear harmony around Layla's tune.

She then smiles to Layla, winking. Perhaps between the two of them they can ease the warriors' pain.

[Layla]

Layla pauses for a moment to let Valancy have a few seconds solo whilst she smiles a thank you at her. She then continues playing, suiting her melody to Valancy's to perform a melodious duet.

[Tarquinn]

Tarquinn seems to have been here all along, sitting towards the back of the tavern. Her ankles are crossed as she rocks back in her chair, boots resting heavily on the table. Her mead is standing beside her, still half-full. She watches the two music makers appreciatively.

[Mess]

Mess sits in a chair with a bottle of Mead to his mouth. When he finishes, he looks at the table and asks,"Do you know about Pinocchio? I think you got far more potential than him." The table, however, seems to be unmoved by this remark. "What!", he exclaims,"You don't believe me! It's true ya know." A subtle growth can be noticed in Tarquinn's nose :P

[Valancy]

Valancy gives Mess an odd look. "What do you mean Tarquinn's nose has grown? She hasn't said anything."

[Mess]

That'd be the idea!

And thanks for the look. I think I'll put it away with other collectibles. :P

[BarnCat]

/me scurries by looking for a clean table and a clear seat. "What the dragonblazes is a Bot? Why might I be one?" he mutters "/me's not working here anyways, force of habit? hrrmp." He quickly slips into a seat in a shadowy corner of the room, the most defensible position, the most secluded, but finds it difficult to get the saucy barmaid's attention to order a drink from this location. "HEY!" He yells impulsively, causing the room to fall into a headturned hush, this is awkward! "Uh, well hello... there... people?..., anyone up for a game of... spin the bottlefly?"

[Grim Jestor]

...in the deep darkness which seems to be gathered right in front of the bar, a figure sits, watching BarnCat and seeming to grin, although the face cannot be seen. "In the house of the dead, only the dead play games. The rest of you can only watch..." The figure lifts a dusty glass, which may have once held an ancient martini, but now contains only the mummified remains of an olive, and drinks emptiness, still grinning...

[BarnCat]

Looking to Grim's direction, he has to smile, this 'Cat has several best friends who are undeads and liches. Knowing despite the chills cold dusty musty aura, they're great people who are the life of the party no matter where they haunt. "I noticed you have a mummified olive" raises his mug in a toast "I have a mummified olive too." Pounding the table he jovially orders a round for the Grim Jestor of something a tad more liquidy. "Emptiness has a beautifully lonely aesthetic, but a cold and frothy one warms the cockles quicker." BarnCat eyes around wondering if anyone's up for a song, poetry, rhymes and ballads?

[Grim Jestor]

...the figure nods its thanks, for what better way to befriend the dead than to buy them a drink? The dark aura is suddenly gone, and the other occupants of the room seem to suddenly become lively, talking and laughing as if they had not been siting there gathering dust and cobwebs just seconds ago. Dormant for untold centuries, light comes suddenly back into their empty eyes and the sound of singing can be heard as an obviously drunk patron mimics the latest hits... all at once...

[BarnCat]

BarnCat gets up stretches, sniffs the air, shakes hands with the Grim Jestor of Death himself. Tips his glass, his mug, and a pitcher of mead downing all three in an amazing feat of beveragical prowess, buRrRpPsS raucously, and dons his hat and cloak and heads out. Such a casual cavalier manner to him, such a measured flourish to his motions as he makes his way out to the door and into the night, barely hides the fact of the act of that he's just left Jestor with the bill, having only for his part left a 500 gold pence tip before running off whistling and cakling into the darkness from whence he came.

[Grim Jestor]

...no one seems to notice the newcomer leave, the party keeps right on going even as he slams the door, but the instant BarnCat is out of hearing range the lights and music suddenly disappear as suddenly as they came, and place is silent as a tomb once again, silent as a jukebox out of coins, and the cobwebs whipped away by the flurry of revelry are suddenly there again, hanging from yawning jawbone and bony wrist, and the odd darkness gathers yet again. The dead can wait, and wait they do, for the dead have... Time. The strange figure sits there, amid the darkness which somehow gathers directly in front of the bar, and clutches an ancient martini glass, dusty and dry, in which once a drink may have taken up residence. A mummified olive rattles in the glass...