The man was barely able to contain a small chuckle from the mental image of how the gnome flew through the air after being hit by a tauren but it was only for a moment before he regained his selfcontrol. The man let go of the bar and made a surprisingly graceful bow for his age before the gnome. It's a pleasure to meet you Lecina Steelcog. My name is Kazat, I am truly saddened by your recent misfortunes although after a story like that its quite the blessing to still be able to walk. Kazat took another look at Lecina who gave off a valiant although tired smile. Have you sought out a healer to take a look at those injuries of yours? You look like you could collapse at any given moment.
The dwarf sits and listens to the conversation between the gnome and the man, ye your lucky to be here right know miss, if you like I could repair your Armour as I am a blacksmith, by the way the name's Gimian. But what bring you to a tavern and not a healer?
Lecina ran a hand through her hair slowly, still smiling it's nice to meet you both she said as she bowed her head to each of the gentlemen. truth is, out there in the jungle the only healers I'd find would be troll witch doctors... I'd rather keep my head on my shoulder and not shruken she stated with a tiny grin before turning to Gimian. that is a very kind offer, thank you. I'd wait until later though when I can find some more clothes... Can't walk around in my underwear on can i Lecina said with a giggle
Lecina shrugged LI was gathering gorilla fur, sells for quite a bit to the right buyer... I was just skinning one the he came out of no where, roaring and screaming, I think my skinning knife got stuck iI his arm... . The pink haired gnome sighed and put a small bag of coins on the counter before getting off the seat slowly and walking offthat money is for a room.... Should be enough, I really need to lie down... Have a nice day she said as she walked up the stairs
( I'm going to stop here due to irl issues that have popped up, Iapologise)
After working out his income over the last few months the bar keep realised that he had lost 10,000 gold in the last 12 months and closed the bar, offering it for sale to anyone who was interested.
The sun cast a cold autumn glow over Booty Bay as it struggled to climb over the mountains that guard the goblin city. Creeping slowly, but ever closer, towards what looked to be a long abandoned inn.
Despite the thick grime that had developed upon them through months of neglect the sun eventually strained through the windows casting a pale glow upon the ancient wooden bar.
Out of nowhere the door begins to open, slowly at first due to the rust that had developed on the hinges but after a few moments it opened with a crack.
The suddenly open door bathed the bar in a light that eagerly consumed, having not felt the true warm kiss of the sun in more than a year. A shadow that had gone unnoticed initially began to grow against the bar until the recognisable shape of a goblin began to form. Grabbing a dusty apron and forcing open the till the goblin grinned with satisfaction.
The Salty Sailor tavern was open for business once again.
A male human went into the salty sailor tavern. He picked a table that allow him have back again the wall. The salty water and sun has took a toll on his body and clothes. His captain ship, staghound, is sitting in bay as the captain argue the price of rare items that found in the south seas. " Hey goblin, please get me a drink and some fruit, bread, and meat." Rackham said in tired voice.
The goblin glanced up at the human that had just come in before acknowledging his request. Fumbling around round the back of the inn for a few moments he emerged with a tray. On the tray was a jug of mead, some stale bread, a scattering of whichever fruits looked least rotten out back and some salted beef. He placed the tray down in front of the human. "That'll be 6 silver pal" the goblin replied.
Rackham fumbled for the 6 silver in coin purse and gave it to the goblin. "Hey, I will pay you 2 extra silver for news about the town and who came in and out," he said with voice of hope.
The goblin bit into the silver coins before placing them into a pouch around his waist.
"Sure pal, all sorts come in and out of here recently, you thinking of anyone in particular?" The goblin pulled up a chair and sat down with his legs straddling the back of the chair.
Suddenly, the door slammed open, and through it stepped a tall, lean orc. Just looking at her, the word 'loud' comes to mind. From the wide grin to the thick golden earrings and blood-red bandana, she does rather make her presence known immediately. Her name was Krasha, and she was quite a common sight along the wharves of Booty Bay. Her salt-stained, well-worn boots attested to a long time spent at sea. In contrast, her clothing (for once) was not disheveled but rather crisp and clean and obviously newly tailored in a fashion popular among Blackwater bigwigs.
With some choice words (and indeed loud ones, too), she stopped the battleworg that had been following at her heels from entering the building. She snapped her fingers, presumably to draw attention to herself... probably a futile gesture after that entrance, and shouted "Oi, get me a real large mug of real dark ale!"
Still grinning, she took the nearest available seat, slamming a handful of coins onto the table before reclining as comfortably as she could in the wooden chair and crossing her legs.
"Sorry pal, duty calls". The goblin said before making his way back over to the bar.
He went to pull the pint but then stopped. Heh, this broad won't know the difference between real ale and the cheap stuff. By the looks of her she's pent so long at sea she'll be happy just to have something remotely fresh. He thought to himself.
"The good stuff's out back! I'll go get ya some now doll" He called over before fiddling around out the back.
He brought the pint back and placed it before her. "Only the best for you doll" The goblin nodded at her grinning before returning to the ba, spitting into a rag and wiping a glass.
Krasha took a long swig of the dark liquid. Suddenly, she stiffened and sat there as though petrified, her eyes bulging. She lowered the mug. "Neptulon's soggy bunghole..."
Taking long, slow, almost reverent sips, she gradually drained the ale in complete silence. She leaned back, staring at the empty mug as though in a trance. With a faraway look still on her face, she waved for the barkeep.
A shadow fell into the door, blocking out the dim light of the rising sun over Booty Bay. A hulking troll entered the bar. His white, milky eyes darted around the room, scanning the patrons. With the troll, a putrid smell wafted through the tavern. His skin was a a sickly white covered with patches of short green fur. A mohawk of thin hair with fading red color fell to one side of his face. strapped to his back was a massive two handed mace made of fragmented bone and wood, caked with dried blood. On closer inspection, most of the trolls armor was fabricated much in the same way. The troll dragged a bag after himself, which clattered over the floorboards. As he scanned the room, he seemed to have found a place to his liking, a table, close to the bar.
He sat down and began rummaging through his bag, giving little notice to the bars other patrons
The barkeep was on his way back to the orc when he caught a whiff of the stench emanating from the door. Retching, he turned around to see a troll making his way through the bar.
"Hey pal! We don't serve your kind in he-" He started before seeing the dried blood on the troll's enormous mace. "How's about I make an exception this time?" He grinned at the troll before heading over to the orc.
Krasha rubbed her forehead and sighed. "I mean... I've had good beer before. I've had REAL good beer before. I've had shite beer too. I've had ogre beer, I mean it's very much an acquired taste... actually, I'm partial t' a drop of bleedin' Stonemaul Stout. I've had Dark Iron ale, and not even Dark Irons like that stuff..." She tapped the mug on the table. "This though... what can I even say about it?"
She shook her head, then continued speaking, gradually raising her tone from her former almost reverential mutter to a powerful, inspired speech. "This is like a bleedin' shipwreck on your tongue. Y'can't believe what's going on, it's horrendous, but y'can't stop yourself from starin'. Or drinkin'. And then it hits you with that aftertaste... ye gods..." She stared at the goblin with a haunted look on her face. "I mean I ain't no saint, but I felt me some hell in that bleedin' mug. It made me wanna turn me life around, be a better person, that sorta crap. That... was the most horrible pint I've ever tasted in me life, boyo. And then y'ask me if I want another?"
Suddenly, Krasha grinned and winked. "Sure, get me another. I came here f'r booze, what y'got me was an experience."
He sensed an opportunity here. "Well that first one was at a discounted rate 'coz it was your first try, the second one's going to cost twice as much". he grinned at the orc before hastily making his way behind the bar. If he knew orcs they were so bound with honour, if he pulled one and served it to her before she'd had a chance to object she'd feel honour bound to pay for it.
Now he thought about it he was beginning to appreciate the smell of the troll, it was overpowering the stench of the store cupboard where his predecessor hadn't heard opf the art of stock rotation. "You want one of these beauts while I'm back here pal?" He asked the troll.
A rasping snarl escaped the trolls mouth as the Goblin started threatening him. The death knight thought about putting the goblin into his place, but the sudden mood shift of the barkeep, combined with a delicious scent of fear made the troll reconsider.
He calmed down and listened in on the dialogue between the orc and the goblin. "What a curious description" the troll thought to himself. As the goblin asked if he wanted one too, the troll was wondering if the peculiar ale was something he would be able to taste.
"I would like one, yes" he replied as he started searchig his bag for payment.
Last edited by Khorianas; 2015-12-09 at 01:02 PM.
Reason: typos
"Sure pal, coming right up" the goblin replied before making his way back round the bar grinning to himself. I reckon I could sell these saps my old dishwater if I put a bit of rum in it and called it special brew.. He stopped. That's a bloody good idea. he hastily poured two pints from the ancient barrel round the back of the bar before quickly placing the drinks down in front of his patrons.
"If yous lot like this stuff then I've got a crapload of "special brew" back here. Old goblin recipé, just like my dear old gramma used to make, light rest her soul."
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