Water…I just need water….the dwarf thought. my head…I don’t feel right at all. She looked at her hands and her eyes darted back and forth rapidly. More fingers there than I remember “Barkeep!”, she shouted, “Water please!” The two bartenders she saw both pointed at the tankard that was already before her and said, “two coppers please.” The dwarf looked about confused and reached into her coin purse, hands shaking violently. She pulled out four gold coins and tossed them at what she thought was the barkeep. There ya go… and she looked down at the tankard of water before her. how did that get here? She looked up again to see the barkeepers dancing. ok, now that’s….just not right… The poor dwarf then toppled over out of her seat and lay on the ground moaning and drooling onto the dusty, mud splattered floor of the tavern. The last thing she saw was a half-elf jumping over towards her. what a bizarre hat he’s wearing… she thought before darkness clouded her vision.
"Well that was interesting", Umbra said to himself and then promptly returned to ignoring the rest of the world. "a drunk dwarf…so typical, so cliche. What next, a law abiding cleric?" Umbra chuckled at that thought and sipped from his drink. Only a few seconds passed until Umbra felt a shiver; a feeling that something terrible was about to happen. "I swear to asmodeus if he sits next to me…" A grunt and a belch accompanied by a loud call for water pounded into the ears of this unfortunate brooding Drow. Umbra turned to his left to see the very same dwarf he dreaded to see.
Umbra opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. ”Odd” he thought, “normally a dwarf, or any creature sitting near me would provoke me to say something along the lines of ‘no’ at least. Disgusting drunkard”. Silenced, the Drow consented to glower at the dwarf, who he just discovered was barely perceptively female. ”Something’s not quite right about this…” Umbra thought as he brooded some more.
There’s a loud THUMP! against the tavern’s front window and everyone, Algernon and Umbra included, turn to look at the disturbance. A short moment later the front door swings open and two burly half-orcs together toss a scrawny, but squirming, dwarf into the tavern. ”Meant to toss the bastard through the window” one of them said. The other mumbled, “They just don’t make windows like they used to.” The dwarf, who landed flat on his backside turned around and began to pummel at their legs drunkenly. ”you…kint kick me…outa thur!” The half-orcs laughed loudly and one of them flicked the dwarf’s head with a clawed finger. ”Yes we can, little man. You knew the rules, and you broke them. now you can join all these other layabouts and piss-drinkers here”.
"I’ll be…back!" groanded the tipsy dwarf as he fell back onto his arse. This time the rest of the tavern joined the half-orcs in laughter. "no you wont." they said in unison. The two turned around and walked proudly out of the tavern.
I like my hat. It is a good hat. found it being pushed down the street by the wind and decided to snatch it for myself. So far the best decision I’ve ever made in my short life. In fact, I cant remember anything before getting this hat and sitting inside this bar. And now I have a drink in my hand…freaky. I wonder what it is…I’d like to taste it but my eyes are fixated on this Drow over in the corner of the bar and I can’t seem to move. this is annoying, but hey, at least he’s handsome, especially with that glare that seems to be directed directly at me oooh… have I gotten a lot of that since walking in here. no one seems to like my hat, but too bad it’s staying on whether or not it makes me look like a stupid bard. As if a world class warlock would suffer to sing and be so flippant as that.—-
—-you are reading the thoughts of a powerful warlock, Algernon the Well-Traveled. He’s a very handsome half-elf, by most accounts, assuming his charisma modifier is any indication of physical beauty. Beside the cavalier hat of which he is so fond he was currently fiddling with the brooch of a long green cape that he had pulled around himself as if it was chilly within the tavern, despite its three well fed fireplaces. He does manage to get a sip of his drink at this point and he smiles—-
—-so apparently I ordered a mead at some point. I approve of my unconscious taste in drinks. better than the piss water most of the barbarians and fighters are drinking around here. I’m still kinda bothered by that Drow starring at me. Sure glad I’m not an Eladrin.