Mafendorf the dwarf lazily strolled along the smooth dirt path that led through the center of the little seaside town. He passed houses, stores, and old man Mcquires farm. He looked forward off the jagged cliff that the town of Ambrosia sat atop, and shuddered. "I hate the cold here.." He murmered to himself as he headed towards his pub, the Red lantern.

The Red lantern was a small seaside pub pearched on the very cliff of the town. it looked down upon the sea, and faced right where the sun would rise, so Mafendorf always liked to get there early and watch it with a good pint of ale. He continued to head the down the path for a little while, then began the acent up the rather steep trail to the pub. he picked up a few stones, and chucked them over the cliff. It seemed like ertinity before you heard the faint plop of them hitting the water. He continued walking for a minute, and soon reached the end of trail. Mafendorf stared at three story building that was the pub, and smiled.

He had built it alone with his bare hands. He loved it.

Maffendorf walked in the wooden door, and set the wine bottles he purchased from the market on the shelves behind the conuter of the pub. the counter was bassically a big log cut in half, sanded, and varnished. He then walked upstairs to the ale cellar, got himself a glass, and sat watching the sunrise, sipping ale in the dining section of the pub. He then silently thought to himself.. "This isnt my home.. This is my life."

After an hour alone in the pub, the clouds blocked the sunrise, and it began to rain. he lit some lanterns and brought the gigantic fireplace to life, And then walked over to the door and unlocked it, stood behind the counter, and was ready for buisness.

Soon, the bar was full of roudy sailors, warriors, elves, and many other creatures. A customer sat in front of him and sulked, soaking wet.

"What can I get ya sir?"

"Simple Mead" Haden nodded at the dwarf as he grasped the roof of his helmet, pulling it off. The knight's grey hair flopped down to his shoulders as he drew the helmet off. Placing the dirty, steel helmet on the counter top, Haden pushed his hair from his face, and scratched at his goatee.

Looking around the tavern, Haden's dull, brown eyes set on a group of elves. His aged jaw clenched, and his teeth gritted together.

Sythyn, the young elf, sat around the table with fellow elves talking, laughing, joking and drinking. Eventually the glasses were dry and the elves were roudy. Sythyn stood up and walked to the bar to calm them all down. He arrived at the bar and stood next to the knight.

Sythyn got the attention of the barman and asked for 5 glasses of splitzen, a very strong dull coloured drink. Maffendorf started pouring out the drinks while keeping an eye on his tavern. After pouring them out Sythyn handed over the money for the drinks and walked back to his table.

The discussion on the table had become fierce as they were no longer fueled by alcohol, but at the appearance of Sythyn and the alcohol the table became quiet.

OOC: I think i got the tavern owners name right please correct me if i didn't

Evee was close by the elves since they were part of her race and that was were she felt comfortable, although it displeased her when they began to grow loud. She herself didn't drink so she sat quietly, commenting here and there and laughing when something grabbed her attention.

Letting her eyes graze over the table, her eyebrows knit together when a man at the counter seemed angry at them. Did they insult him somehow, or was he an elf-hater? Staying cautious, she watched Sythyn move to the bar. Although she really didn't know the elf, she couldn't help but wonder why he left. Then their table grew quiet and she understood.

"Interesting." She noted, brushing a strand of brown hair from her face.

Thekherham took a quick look inside this tavern, his whistling dragon, Kykherhenha, waiting behind him.

"Nothing here," he said aloud. "Let's go. I'm sure they don't want to see any aliens in that tavern." He backed away, and the door closed quietly.

Sirius walked towards the tavern, his metal body clinking slightly as he moved, he wore his long black cloak to hide most of his body and face. "Oh a tavern, who knows what kind of people could be here!" his other self thinks in a high pitched voice.

Sirius opens the door and takes a quick look around, "Nice place" He mutters.

He sits down at the bar, taking a look at the other people in the tavern. Nearest to him a grey haired man sitting at the bar, in the other direction a group of elves. "Seems like a quiet place, That's good" Sirius mutters to himself, "Quiet is never a good thing!" his other self thinks with a gruff voice.

"Give me the strongest ale you have." Sirius says to the barman.

The heavy wooden door of the tavern slammed open as a figure, clad in black robes, a cowl covering its pale visage entered the red lantern. As it approached the bar, it cast a glance, left and right. 2 Elfes, a knight, and something he could not quite identify. Seemed good enough.
With a deep and hollow voice the necromancer spoke
"Dwarf, give me a bottle of your best white wine, be as quick as possible about it. Afraid I'm in quite a hurry"
One of 3 heavy pouches left the half-demons belt, only to slam down on the counter, its shiny contents producing the tune that all adventurers love and know. The tune of gold rubbing against gold. 5 heavy gold coins left the leather sac, as Deathclaws held out his opened hand, the gold lieing within "I'm willing and able to pay for it, since you were undoubtedly going to ask before fetching the drink" A grin spread across his hidden face ~Good lord, how long has it been since i've had a good glas of wine~ DC asked himself

"He started it!" Dasin yelled to the two large men hauling her out of the inn. "I mean, look at me-I'm puny-I wouldn't start a fight!" she struggled to say as she a thrown out the open door and into the icy cold rain of the world outside. Clambering to her feet Dasin gasped and shivered instintly as she turned around to hurl more abuse at the men only to hit in the stomach with the small bag and cloak she had called her luggage. "C'mon, its raining" she shouted only to be met by laughter and a door slamming in her face.

Scowling, the young human quickly remembered that getting soaked outside wasn't the best idea for her health and since there was no way she was getting back inside the inn she began to run towards the nearest warm building. "The Red Lantern?" She mumbled to herself as she walked in the front door, immediatly hit by the warmth of other beings and the fire. Smiling Dasin scanned the pub loving the style of it, it seemed important somehow. Hearing a loud clunk she turned to see a figure with what seemed to be a rather large amount of gold and a liking for wine. Rolling her eyes she made her way to the bar, bypassing a group of elves and sitting near a knight while she patiently waited to be served.

Walking through the pouring rain, he comes to a small tavern, "Seems secluded enough." thinking to himself. Unsure of opening the door, from the sight earlier of a young human, female perhaps, it was much to take to make out the gender. "There might be cops here, but I am craving a drink. I'll go for it and if there are cops I'll just get the hell out of here." thinking aloud this time.

He walks in to the tavern, hitting his head on the door frame and losing his top hat in the process. "ouch." he says softly. He looks around to notice that no one paid attention to his clumsiness. After picking up his hat and brushing it off, he walks to the seat farthest away from the group of people assuming that they are drunk and not wanting to start something. "Hey over here, bar tender you got some coffee? ...No?! ... Ah okay get me some fine wine."

Not even picking up the glass he swishes it around, using his telekinesis, as well to drink it. Nervously he looks around at the people in the place. "No cops." he thinks to himself, "That's good," thinks again but whispers to himself this time, and continues to play with the wine. "Oh crap" he whispers. As the wine spreads all over the bar counter and drips onto the floor. "I think this just might attract attention." he thinks. Using his telekinesis grabs a bunch of napkins and starts to mop up the mess, but then notices that everyone is now staring at him.

"What? never seen a guy with green hair?"

Silently sitting in a corner of the tavern, near the warmth of the roaring fire, and as far away from the bumbling drunks as he could get, Vexair quietly sipped his absinthe. Its green color reflecting the flickering fire light into dozens of strands of multi-colored light.

Vex rarely drank alcohol, he found that it interfered with his highly tuned senses, but either way the warmth was a sweet respite from the cold dreary life a dark elf usually lived.
As the tavern began to fill with more and more regulars(probably) he pulled his hood over his eyes a bit more, secretivly checking his scimitars on his waist in case of trouble.

As far as he could tell everyone was enjoying themselves, and noone would take notice to him, another fine night.

Krom pushed through the doors of the tavern and paused at the door to brush the rain off his dark cloak. Removing it revealed a human man of a sizable build. His black hardened leather armour glowed softly in the firelight and his eyes danced around the room cautiously, carefully not making eye contact as not to draw attention. After a moment of judging the tavern and its inhabitants he left his cloak on a hook and took a table closest to the fire.

"Barkeep" he called politely "If you would please bring me a drink to warm a man, and calm him so he may rest until the rain passes" he requested calmly as he brushed his black hair and rested his sword upon the empty chair beside him. Waiting for his beverage he stared into the fire and superficially listened to the voices that filled the room. His travels had made him weary and he found it too easy to relax in his chair, it seemed even a veteran warrior could be caught off guard at times.

Not that it was too much of a worry in this tavern, his only risk being that someone may join him at his table for conversations sake. It had been a long while since he last had company...

Sirius slides open his mouth hatch, a red glow coming from where his mouth would be, he sips from his drink. Enjoying the quiet.

He noticed a tall, green haired man bump his head on the door frame. "Never seen someone so tall before." He thinks, he looks over to the tall man again and sees him drinking from his glass without touching it. "Telekinesis, this could be trouble" Sirius thinks, as he saw the man spill his drink while using telekinesis, he thinks: "Not much control with it too, I should be careful around him." The tall man notices Sirius staring at him, he quickly looks away and pulls his hood down, hiding his face more.

The rain pouring over the brim of his wide leopard-print cowboy hat, Greckle (known to his usually miniscule audience as MetroGnome the Time-Magi) urged his recently "acquired" pony through the woods towards whatever shelter he hoped lay in wait for him down the cliffside path. The last town he hit had run dry of easy earnings much quicker than he thought it would and cutting his losses and running would be much easier than the potential alternative.

"I hate weather" he muttered to himself as the pony crested the hill and the familiar sights of Ambrosia came into view. He easied his pony to a halt and rummaged in his many pouches until he found his townbook. He leaned over to protect it from the rain and starts to flip through.

"Ambrosia... Ambrosia.. I know I have been here before, wasn't this the one with the Aha!" he was correct! This was the town with the alchemist shop he slept behind for more than a month last winter. If it weren't for that stupid copper he might still be there living off the fruit the reptilian shopkeep had carelessly kept in the open in his (or hers, he was never exactly quite sure on that point) back garden. But it had been months since then, likely he had been forgotten and he could check out the local landscape and maybe scrape a living here once again. But first, to the local bar and a nice drink. And who knows, if he was lucky maybe a few coin as well.

Ten minutes later after making sure Doppler (The name he decided on for his new steed) was safe in the stables, Greckle entered the bar. First he spotted the chatty group of elves, they wouldn't do. He generally preferred to work one on one so his eyes roamed over to the bar itself. A dwarf stood behind the counter serving an old slightly weary looking knight, that wouldn't do either most likely he was too jaded by the memories of some war or battle or whatnot to appreciate the odd cantrip. Same with the other shadowy looking customers, the shiny metallic guy with the cloak probably had no soul, the man who obviously was a necromancer didn't look like a fun and games kinda person, the girl maybe, the - OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT! It stood a good five feet above Greckle's paltry three had a mess of green hair, horns and a top hat of all things. His curiosity getting the better of his business sense he sat down next to the giant creature and motioned the barkeep over.

"Glass of your oldest foulest rancid milk and come chocolate syrup for me, and another round for the gentlemen next to me, I'll pay." He turned toward the object of his curiosity, "That is if you don't mind Sir?"

Kind of annoyed at the fact that this being just sat down next to him. "Now he wants to buy me a drink?" he thinks to himself. This guy was looking at him like he got horns or something. "Well I suppose another drink would be good" saying under his breath, and nodding at this man.

"At least the shady tin can over there has quit looking at me." he thinks. He studies this person for a good while after excepting the free drink. "I wonder if there is a fleshy inside of that can." thinks again. As his drink arrives to him he stops staring at this thing, and levitates the drink to his face for a sip. "Lets hope I don't spill this one like the last one." he says to the guy next to him. Waiting for a response he looks around the room because he never actually studied the other inhabitants of the tavern. The little man said something but looking around made it hard to pay any attion to the man. He saw the girl who was damp and was a little dirty. "perhaps she was that humanoid figure I saw running." he thought. He say the elves and got annoyed with them very quickly not being able to understand there conversation. He then turns for another sip. "So little man where are you from?"

"Oh here there and a little bit of everywhere I suppose, I'm a bit of a traveling performance artist. But before that even I never really have called somewhere home, it's just been the road life for me forever and always I guess."

Greckle took a big swig out of his chocolate milk and promptly spit it out.

"DAMN! I ALWAYS FORGET!" Looking around sheepishly he takes a pouch out from his belt and looks up toward the giant.

"Hey, want to see a magic trick?" a grin stretching across his face.

With a roar of thunder the rain hammered down even harder upon the tavern. The doors swung open in unison with a flash of lightning, framing a shadow darker than the night. In it stepped, to reveal a pale skinned man with an ebony goatee. His boots were caked with dark mud, rain dripped off his wide brimmed black hat. A pair of goggles with black lenses hid his crimson red eyes. He was soaked to the bone, straight through his long black overcoat, the dark green markings barely distinguishable from black in their dampened state.

The man reaches up and removes his hat, to reveal untamed, shoulder length, black hair. With a flick of his wrist, he shakes off the majority of the water from his hat. He runs his other hand through his hair, straightening the mass somewhat. He replaces his hat, and then pulls his goggles down, around his neck.

Mumbling mostly to himself, but also to any who could hear, "Such a magnificent downpour, though an irritable inconvenience it is. As well we might dwell in the seas and observe not such an amplitude of water."

Looking around the tavern for a place to sit, the man sets his eyes upon a young woman sitting next to a grizzled old knight.
"Ah! But beauty to be found even in these forlorn shores." The man says as he sits a seat away from her, opposite the knight.

The man doffs his hat, as etiquette requires, and places it on the bar next to himself, before turning to the woman. His head cocked to the side at a slight angle, his keen senses assessing the girls status. "I know not what dark twist of fortune has allocated your visage to such a place, nor do I fathom what onus you bear. Understand simply that it is my diffident desideration to paliate your burden this eventide."

With a smile, the man turns to the barkeeper and drops a pair of uncut emeralds on the bar, "For a bottle your most exquisite Red Wine, as well as both her determination of libation, and her quarters for these dark hours."

The dwarf behind the bar takes the emeralds with a twinkle in his eye. His dwarven instincts telling him they are worth far more than a bottle of his finest Red, and a couple nights lodging. The bartender reaches under the bar and sets out a wine glass and a bottle of red wine. Then turns to the woman and awaits her order.

As the rain poured harder and harder a young man walked in to the tavern and sits down in the very back. He was clad in a dark cloak With a silver sword embroidered in the back of it. He seems to walked lightly and smoothly even though you can hear the light clanking of armor undernerneath the cloak though it is not easily seen. Thinking to himself "hmm seems like a quiet enough tavern to take a rest, even though something seems odd with a couple of the patrons." His thoughts are interrupted by the waitress " Can i get you anything?" Yes please, I would like to have a glass of your finest wine." and then hands the waitress the money. As he waits for his wine he notices the patrons. And one in particular catches his eye. He thinks to himself "The guy at the bar dressed in all black seems to be emmiting an evil aura. I should check it out but I could be mistaken as I am a new paladin of Luthras the god of valiance and good." He walks up to the man in black and tries to start up a converstaion."Hello good Sir, how is your evening?"

Nythianna thanked the gentleman that had brought her to town in the back of his cart, slipping a single gold piece into his hand as payment. She wrapped her cloak closer around her slim body as she looked around at the various buildings, spotting a single well-lit tavern a good block away. Adjusting her hood to keep the rain away from her face, she ran to the tavern door, pushing it open and stepping inside, letting the warmth of the place envelope her. She pulled back her hood, revealing her fiery red hair and green eyes which searched about the tavern, looking for an empty seat. "My Goddess, it's busy." She decided to step up to the bar and order her drink first, before even trying to find a seat.

"A large glass of firewine, please" she smiled at the dwarven bartender.

The man hears someone approach from behind; militant training in his step. An aura of the Light surrounding him, so different from the man's own Darkness. Sensing that his sword would be wielded as deftly, though his power beyond the physical was just beginning to grow.
"Hello good Sir, how is your evening?"

With a smile and a nod to the young woman beside him, the man turns to face the newcomer. Taking in the black cloak, and the shape of the sword beneath it the man looks up to his face. "Greetings. This evening of mine has been but dispiriting and irriguous prior to happening upon this establishment. Now, it would seem, the resplendent pulchritude of the waking world has returned to the endless waltz of my senses. Peace I have found for the time being, but I would, not with the intention of assumption nor rudeness, presume you to be a paladin of some order, though I know not which. Do you come to attempt a venture at shattering the peace I scarcely ever encounter, as so many of your brethren have done, or would you deign to join me in a drink? However, be your response Chaos or Order, allow me to introduce myself."

Standing from the wooden bar stool with an unearthly celerity, the man lifts up his hat from the bar. With a flourish of his wide black hat with his right hand, and placing his left arm behind him, the man makes a formal bow. The man's unkempt black hair falling in his face, so at odds with the sharp precision and cleanliness of his attire. "I was once the Duke Octavius von Striker-Cromwell, though my profession was that of the medical trade in a sense, simply an alchemist to be more precise. Through the years my knowledge has expanded to many fields beyond my first love of tinctures, ointments, and potions. I have come to be known among friend and foe alike as DoC., and it is as such that you may address me, as my birth title was given up long ago, for reasons long forgotten."

As the rain poured and the sky raged Lucien walked down the road the rain not laying a single drop on his dark majesty his dark eyes seeing everything and the smells of blood and tears. He feels an aura just as dark as his slowly he continues closer to a tavern his ghouls closely following behind. "Leave me" he says as he enters the tavern letting his darkness fill the room his eyes as black as midnight under his cowl his armor as dark as the night and his skin as pale as the moon. He sees the source of the aura a darkened soul at the bar talking to a man with a pulsating aura of bright light lucien feels his fangs grow longer as he imagines the sweetness of the blood of the man of light. He quickly puts aside his urge and sits to a table in the back where the dark gathers he pulls a vial of blood from his belt and asks quietly in a soft velvet voice for a empty glass though he said it in a whisper it seemed everyone in the tavern had heard his words. The waitress gave him a glass and watched as she shivered when she came close to him and quickly went away. He emptied the vial into his glass and slowly sipped it enjoying its sweet flavor on his pallete. Quietly listening to the conversations of the other patrons.