Relaxing in Times of War ((A Short, Tavern RP, all are invited and encouraged ))

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[Barren]

    Barren sits alone at a table. The tavern's walls are all rotted and decayed. Dust is fit in all the crevices and even blood is painted on the walls from unruly drunken Orcs and their baffles about war or "WAAAAAGH" as they enjoy to holler out in acts of rage.  Barren sits his armour equipped except his helmet that sits rest next to him on the table. One arm extended across the wall's edge, the other rested on the table. In the extended arm, he holds in his hand a large blunt cigar. He pulls it back to his lips tasting the fine taste and buffs in the smoke. The fire cherry crackles the rolled paper as it lessens the length of the cigar. Eyeing the crowd of dancing patrons. Chaos humans, Orcs,Goblins and even the sexy Dark Elves all reside in the tavern. Some military personal, some not. Barren eyes the pretty Dark Elves in wonders of their beauty as they dance in celebration of our victory the week before. He takes another drag of his cigar...

[omera]

Kzaevas stood at the bar, swigging a mug of ale. The days hardships  had made Kzaevas want to finally relax. He glanced over at the drunken orcs doing their orc stuff with a smile. Kzaevas was shirtless, wearing a pair of chain mail pants covered in hides, and wore worn leather boots. His axe was at his side, just in case one of the orc patrons decided to pick a fight (which he relished in the opportunity to anyway). Kzaevas took another sip of his ale before setting the mug down and glancing over at Barren. He walks over to him, offering a quick smile. Glancing to the dark elves and back to Barren, Kzaevas speaks. "Careful. They might murder you whilst you're joined at the hips with them."

[Squiggie]

A small green figure flies through a door as it crashes open up on the balcony landing with a *THUD* on the tavern floor below.  Squiggie pulls himself up off the floor as a wench shouts something about "No more gobbos!!!" to the barkeep.

Glancing around at the chuckilng patrons, Squiggie trots over towards a table as he recognizes a couple faces. 

"Oi dere Barren an' Kaz...UGH!" 

He winces as the bow clatters to the floor after flying into his head from the balcony.  Picking up the bow, he continues as though nothing happened.

"I t'ink she didn' like where I wuz puttin' me noze." Squiggie said with a wink and a smile.  "Sum likez it, an' sum don', I guess..."

Squiggie waves at an unobserving bar wench.  "Oi!  We'z need sum ale over 'ere!" he shouts.  "Dey alwas miss us gobbos when doin' da rounds.  So, watcha boyz doin' in dis dump t'nite?"

[Mahk Noir]

The Dark Lord Machiavelli Noir would have been there, but he was far too occupied in an administrative meeting with his secretaries. Throughout the last seven hours of the meeting, which had evolved into an all-night endeavor, three sea otters, two barrels of blood wine, a bottle of olive oil and a pony had been brought to the Dark Lord's chambers by druchii servants, all of whom came back with looks of abject horror upon their faces. 

[gorkus]

Gorkus forced his way through the tavern doors with a loud bang as they swung into the wall.
"Waaagh, Bring meze some brew"
He said loudly as he moved over towards a seat against one side of the wall.  As he did he shoulder barged past people, pushing anyone to the side who was in his way.  Then he got to his seat and sat down, looking around to see who was in the tavern Gorkus shouted a second time this time now slaming his hands down on the table in front of him.
"I Sez Brinz Mez My Brew!"

[Gorefiend]

  Mewash raises his head and blinks his bloodshot eyes blearily at the growing crowd. The battle at the pass last night had been hard fought, these mountains must be full of the stinkin stunties. Now Gorkus was bellowing for brew, adding to the din of the Dark Elves enjoying themselves. How was a gobbo supposed to sleep around here anyways. Grabbing his brew-skin he drained it dry of the fungus brew he affectionately called Stuntie Stout. His eyes instantly began to swim in their sockets, whoa, he'd have to remember where he found that new orange moss he'd added. Maybe it was the stuntie blood he'd used this time.....

 "That'll shut all youz louzy snotlingz up!" -and promptly passed out again near the fire..

[Barren]

Clearly in a daze, Barren brings his cigar over to his lips again taking another drag. Finally realizing that Kzaevas has pointed him some advice about the local Elf Wenches. Grinning tightly he says with a dark, raspy and hollow voice with smoke protruding out of his lips with every word "Then I'd die a happy man." he looks up at Kzaevas as he joins Barren.

Turning his head quickly at the racket of the goblin and his troubles, he greets Squiggie with a clever nod, and another drag of his blood stained cigar. Speaking to the Goblin this time...

"Watch out for those ones...Kzaevas here says they can be quite feisty." Laughing deep at his corny joke he takes another drag, and reaches for his ale to finish it off and get ready for the next one Squiggie just demanded.

Looking around the Tavern he notices some familiar faces of the regiment he recently joined.

[FeelTheAnguish]

The horrors swam against the air, wailing with the screams of thousands of trapped souls as their trailing tentacles whipped the ground behind them with every bound and leap.
Several humans already lay dead, their necks broken with the coils of writhing flesh and oily substance around their neck cracking the bones.
Their long tongues melted the very air, as they turned their eyes in tender sockets towards the tavern. The beauty of the explosion when their flames caressed the alcohol would surely be an experience Asarikox would be most delighted to see, having his tensions be released with the deaths of those inside would surely please their master.

"Torch the place, bring me Gorkus" he snarled through telepathy to the demons who willingly seemed to progress towards the inn. The dusty streets were hard to navigate, even with the magus directing their every move.

[omera]

Kzaevas nods at Squiggie and turns to Barren.
"Feisty, yes. Strong bodied? Not even close. So reliant of magic and quickness rather than brute force. Whatever floats their boat, though."
Kzaevas sips from his ale mug, squinting at the orc who is demanding his brew.

[Krall]

At this precise time the door of the tavern opens up violently with a strong wind accompanied  by thunder and lightning! A broad, tall and sinister figure appeared. " I need an ail quick before i burn something!"

[FeelTheAnguish]

A frothing mass of conjoined flesh burst into the inn, small trickles of heat dribbling from its mouth as the Dark Elf it seizes is skinned and pulverised in several seconds, with a puddle of blood signifying where the proud being once was. Its gaping maw turned towards the other people in the inn as it vomited up a mixture of blood and fire onto a table.

Krall's words were seeminlgy eaten as the table began to dance with green fire and the horror jumped onto the Black Orc who had so defiantly demanded a drink moments before.

[omera]

Kzaevas's mug dropped to the floor as his arm mutated into a bony ball of spikes, and a foot long spike grew from the center of his chest, possibly used to impale anything that was pulled to close. Kzaevas's axe dropped to the floor, embedded in a manner that makes the hilt stick up and his other arm mutated into what looked like a bone flail with organic chains attached. A fourth mutation made long spikes of bone grow from his shoulders, curving away from his head. Kzaevas's eyes began to glow blue as he charged toward the daemon, his ball of spikes raised in the air ready to deliver a quick and brutal strike to the daemon.

[gorkus]

Gorkus saw as the table Krall was on turned to flames.
"Damn it ize wants mez brew"
Gorkus shouted as he stood up and walked towards the counter, the horror jumped at Gorkus who quickly grabed the horror with both his hands and through it out of one of the windows.
Continueing up to the counter he riped out one of the barrels and started guzzlerling down the ale.

[omera]

Dissatisfied that his kill was taken, Kzaevas sighs. However, where there is one daemon, there is often many where it came from. Kzaevas carefully stepped outside, motioning Barren along, his mutations still ready. He sees the daemon that had been thrown out the window, and impaled the monstrosity with his blade mutation, pushing the bloodied corpse off with his spike ball o' flesh n' bone. He looks about seeing if more daemons are about.

[FeelTheAnguish]

Asarikox watched from his disc that hummed against the breeze, with a hundred eyes piercing the air that gazed down upon the inn. Several more horrors and flamers were speeding towards the tavern, under the command like pieces on a playing board. From underneath is long hair Asaikox's eyes showed a malice as to the situation; leaving none alive except Gorkus was his only dominating thought. The group needed to be forged through the iron bonds of fear and intimidation, and witnessing the rebirth of that which he thought was dead, in an inferno of blazing brew would certainly leave scars on the Orc for quite some time.

Those which showed promise might be left to live, but spoiling his fun wasn't advised.

May 2012

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