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| Relaxed {P} | |
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| Topic Started: Sun Dec 13, 2009 6:12 pm (166 Views) | |
| Ogichi | Sun Dec 13, 2009 6:12 pm Post #1 |
 
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Menzoberranzan was the one place where the psycho-demon Horo could truly relax. Not as in his normal relaxation which generally involved the killing of dozens, sometimes hundreds of people; but the relaxation which involves maybe one or two killings. The type where one simply sits back in some drow bar, sits back, and drinks until he finally passes out only to awake with a pain in his head and a growing desire to kill everything he sees. Unfortunately he hadn’t even begun the most basic beginning to a normal relaxation: the drinking. Despite his normal aversion to killing staff, he had already brought a tavern to its footprint, completely demolished, bodies scouring its wreckage and blood dripping off the blade on the pale fiend’s shoulder. The streets, as always, were near pitch black, dripping blood was following the white demon wherever he went. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with crappy service, never really was. His favored tavern shut down, something about the owner being killed by somebody. The demon was forced to find a new place to spend the money he got from corpses. Morals seemed to be a bit lower in the underground city of Menzoberranzan than the surface; they couldn’t really care less where their money came from, much less who it came from. After near half an hour of wandering through the light crowd of drow and other beings, a tavern caught the white demon’s orange eye. It wasn’t flooded with people, its stench wasn’t repulsive, and already a bar brawl had broken out. His crazed smile cam back to his face, and with a sharp and loud low grinding sound, he disappeared from the crowd and behind one of the fighters, gripping his head from behind and using his draconic might to toss the being like a ragdoll at one of the tables, clearing those patrons from the establishment. “Oh, convenient,” He mused through a wicked grin as he sat down at the now clear table, “peace and a place to sit!” With a gesture and a blurred movement he stabbed the blade into the wooden floor, the barkeeper just sighing and readying a drink, cursing beneath his breath. |
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| Orick | Wed Dec 23, 2009 2:05 am Post #2 |
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Orick walked slowly into the bar, and was hit with the smell of stale sweat, liquor, and leather. He was bruised, tired, and his feet felt like they were about to fall off. He had worked hard to get to this city, and he was not disappointed. The fighting circles were good, as was the pay, and the bars were alright. He walked over to the bar, staggering slightly, and plopped down on the stool. He groaned quietly and asked the barkeep for a large cup of something cold. He nodded and his hands disappeared beneath the bar. They came out holding a bottle of tan liquid and a large clay tankard. He poured the liquid into the cup and the scent of pears filled the room. Orick took a sip and blinked hard. The liquor was very strong, and very good, and left a cooling sensation in his throat and stomach, which spread to the rest of his body. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the visage of a pale man, eyes of orange, blade sticking out of the floor.He walked over to the man, and looked him in the eyes, "May I have a seat?" he a sked quietly. He normally would never strike up a conversation with someone like this, but, he was tired, and in dire need of conversation. He shook the bottle lightly, "Have a nice little drink, talk a bit? How 'bout it?" he smiled slightly and placed the bottle on the table. |
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6:12 PM May 23
