A Meeting Place

[Melancor]

Open to anyone

"Thank you," Sylvan took the mug, carefully placing it aside with one hand as he shuffled through his pocket for a couple bronze coins: the price of a serving of beer in The Hearty Maiden. It was the first time he'd been on a tavern, and being completely honest with himself, he quite liked the laid-back atmosphere and the mischievous behavior the older people around seemed to pawn on each other. Yes, being completely honest, he hoped one day he could learn to enjoy himself as much as them.

With shaky hands Sylvan hastily paced the payment on the bartender's counter, almost as if not wanting to make her wait any longer despite the warmth and friendliness she radiated. "All right! Thank you very much, have a nice day, son." Sylvan smiled back at her as he moved away, hopeful that the transaction had not been unusual from those of her normal customers.

He still didn't really understand why he was drinking this beer thing, or how he knew where to get it, then again there where many things about the workings of the world he didn't understand, and many more he did by instinct. He must have liked having this I suppose... Sylvan thought to himself, remembering Melancor, an alleged demi-god that had died after being sealed into a human, whose conscience slept within the body they both shared.

he stopped. Suddenly he realized he'd started moving, without having a place to sit he looked around, finally seeing an empty seat at the end of the tavern, by the door, just before a large tinted window. There was a lot of chatter and noise all around him; the place was packed, it almost seemed parties where being held in every other table where most of the laughter came rolling through the room. The good humor couldn't fit the interior of the tavern any better, a very brighty-decorated tavern featuring red velvet seating throughout, plants and fish, both in bowls and dead on the walls, had been strategically placed throughout. Indeed it was a happy place, he knew he would enjoy himself, even if it was by only watching other people enjoy themselves.

Sylvan bumped into a chair. Had someone not been sitting on it he would have toppled it, sadly though, he impact had been so sudden half his drink came down on the poor unsuspecting guest.

"Ah, I was distracted. I am so sorry!"

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

(Hey Melancor, buddy, I'm joining this thread with you!!!)

Employed by The Watch of Underwood, Alberdyne Cormyr was currently stationed to a small tavern called The Hearty Maiden. It was an off-shoot organization of Underwood's main tavern: The Peaceful Promenade. Dyne knew that all of these inns, taverns, and hotels were connected by a network of employees working for The Empire. Alberdyne Cormyr worked for the army now, his job forcing him across many stages throughout Underwood and throughout Corone. On occasion, he'd been to as far as Jadet, and even made his way to Gisela as part of his vocational studies.

The life of a soldier was not a pleasant one. He was oft training combat skills to the best of his capacity, performing maintenance on his and others equipment items, and studying the art of The Blacksmith. When Dyne was not in the local smithy, he was working as a guard patrolling the town of Underwood in silent shifts. He was stationed in The Hearty Maiden that day, ordered to help keep the peace. Guards worked in small groups which contained several superior officers. Dyne was still just a lowly Cadet. He still had not achieved the coveted ranking of a Squad Leader. Posted against a wall, the youth had his arms folded across his chest, and a leg propped up against the wall behind him.

He was relaxed. Various clients smoked the favored local herb: cannibus or hemp. The smoke filled the air. Dyne oft smoked the herb himself from time to time finding it an agreeable pass time. He got the herb from the farm that his family owned. They oft grew cannibus plant, tobacco herb, and many other crucial import herbs. Dyne had his eyes closed as he observed the various sounds of the tavern. Normally, he performed duties in The Peaceful Promenade, but that night the rounds were decided. The Watch was short and hands were constantly being shifted around to various positions around the city.

Dyne heard a sudden noise interrupt his train of thought. Opening his eyes, he saw a clumsy patron spill a drink upon another customer. Violence would likely ensue. Dyne drew his longsword and walked over towards the two before any violence could start and lives would be placed in danger. Dyne was a heavy set boy with long, red hair. He wore glasses. He also wore the uniform of a Cadet. His sword was pointing down to the floor in a non-hostile gesture. He looked at the two fellows before either could start any trouble. The offender, had begun to apologize to the victim, but Dyne was a trained guard. He could see the anger in the sitting man's eyes. The victim began to yell at the other man.

Dyne intervened.

"I am afraid you are going to have to keep your voices down. 'Lest I will be forced to fine you, or send you to a night in Underwood Prison." Dyne said carefully, his chiseled face quite serious now. The fellows sitting around the table of the victim began to rise for a moment until they saw the guard. Several other guards had surrounded Alberdyne Cormyr. They had markings suggesting they were fully trained soldiers, and not Cadets. Dyne looked at the two men. "He has already apologized, it was an accident. If you want someone to fight, go to The Citadel in Radasanth. We have a strict rule of law here in Underwood. You will obey or be punished." Dyne said strictly.

Though Dyne was a Cadet, he acted like a Soldier.

[Balgar Grimeye]

Balgar was sitting and laughing as he had just told a witty joke about elves reminding of dogs when the ale was spilt at him. He froze, eyeing the ale that was dripping off his horned helmet and his shoulder.
"What in th--"
Balgar slammed his mug down on the table and flung the stool aside, giving a wild stare at the patron who spilled on him.

"So! Think ye can just go an' PISS o' yer ale on a dwarf eh?" Baldek clenched his fist hard and rose it to his own eyeheight, shaking it threatingly at Sylvan.

"Seems one always has ta teach ye bloody tall-twigs a bit o' respect!" He stood up as close to the fellow as possible, gritting his teeth and looking most of all like an angry wolverine ready to tear something apart.

Balgar glanced to the side as the Watchman intervened, telling them to quiet down. He spat on the floor as reply, although halting momentarily from jumping into Sylvan for a brawl. The dwarf seemed eager to share fists though, and it could perhaps be only a matter of seconds before he would lash out.

[The Sin Eater]

(OOC: I don't know if you are still intending to continue this thread?)

For the last couple of weeks Tom had done little more then getting drunk at one of Underwood's pubs. He used to visit the Peaceful Promenade, but after some unfortunate incidents he had the dubious honor of being on the tavern's blacklist. Apparently, they had a peaceful reputation to uphold. Or whatever.

As the Promenade was no option anymore, he had diverted to the Hearty Maiden. As a newcomer to the pub, Thomas didn't really know any of its regulars and had been sitting alone most of the evening. At some point – he was already to liquored up to remember exactly how – he had ended up at the same table as some random dwarf. If not for the grossly exaggerated yet entertaining tales of the stinking fellow, it would have been a rather boring night so he hadn't left the table since.

Suddenly, after of what must have been the thirtieth witty joke about elves, one of the patrons crashed into Tom's conversation partner and spilled beer all over him. As could have been expected, the little fellow was seriously pissed off and was more then eager to teach the guy a lesson. While the poor figure quickly tried to apologize to the dwarf for his clumsy move, Tom noticed some of the local guardsmen approaching their table.

'Crap!', he thought, 'isn't the middle one that good-for-nothing guard from the Promenade? What was his name again, something-Dyne?' He couldn't resist a smile as he thought: 'I wonder if that headbutt I gave him last week left him with a pretty scar.'

This was an undesired turn turn of events though because technically, Thomas wasn't allowed to visit any of the pubs in Underwood for the rest of the week. Tom estimated the chances of the soldier not recognizing him to be minimal, at best. However he was far from drunk enough to call it a night, so he had no wish to be removed by the watchmen.

Luckily, the guard had not recognized him so far as he had been paying attention to the dwarf only and the still apologizing human, who stood close to Tom and partly hid him from the soldier's sight. In an attempt to create enough distraction for Thomas to slip away unseen, he placed his right leg between Sylvan's legs and gave him a good kick with his other. Without wasting anymore time, Tom quickly stood up and turned away, hoping that the guy would trip and invite the dwarf to give him a solid beating.