ComradeSenpai's Badass Fantasy Game IC

It was a spring evening. The heroes of our story found themselves in a small tavern, the Rat's Head, for reasons of their own. It was by no means a respectable establishment, but a somewhat cozy one, serving cheap ale, and strong liqour, and "stew" straight from a boiling pot over the fire to its customers, an assortment of rough looking men. The owner of the bar stood behind the counter, eternally shining a single mug, and several female servers constantly strode back and forth between tap and alcoholic.

The door of the Rat's Head opens. At its entrance stood a short stocky figure. "Daddy needs a beer!" Said the figure. Stepping into the light, it was clear that said figure belonged to a dwarf, and quite a strong looking one at that. He carried with him tattered clothing as well as a hammer with a tassel which one could assume was made from the dwarf's own hair. He steps up to one of the waiters, and tugs onto her skirt. Looking up, he asks "Gimme one of those", pointing at her crotch.

Just arriving into town Vel'anash decides to get a drink at one of the taverns. looking around sees the Rat's head and he decides to get a pint. He walks up to the tavern's door raises up his foot and kicks in the door, making a loud and noticeable entrance.When he does this the people already in the bar turn to see a man about 5'7 standing in the door way; wearing a top hat and tailcoat both looking that they have be sown together, almost like they wear cut then re sown on the spot. He walks slowly up to the Bar tender, looks him dead in the eye. He stares at the man behind the bar for a while as the other inhabitants wonder what he will do next. He slowly sits down one one of the bar stools still staring deep into the man's soul and proclaims "Bar tender...... I demand your finest Pint of milk."

The waitress, a young blonde woman, gave the dwarf a surprised look before replying, "The brothel's down the street; you'll have better luck there."

The bartender gave Vel a solemn, almost angry look before putting down the mug. He pulled down another from the shelf behind him before dipping it into an unseen bucket, then placing it onto the counter, now full of warm, slightly sour milk.

Vel looks down at the old, sour milk in front of him slowly looks up to the bartender. He looks at him and then says " Thanks just like mother use to make" right before downing the whole glass. After he finishes the pint he throws the lass across the room and decides to look around the room with his back to the Bartender.

A tall man wearing heavy robes and a heavier holy symbol around his neck walks in, momentarily silencing those nearest the door. He sits down at the bar and silently raises two fingers, then looks around at the patrons while he waits for his drinks.

Saiten hated places like these. It was a loud and filthy establishment filled with even louder and filthier people. The stew was mediocre at best and the drinks clearly only existed for the sake of intoxication. Saiten almost ordered a glass of water, but he figured the alcohol would be necessary to kill whatever diseases might be proliferating in the local supply, so he settled for a simple glass of ale which he sipped with a sour expression on his face. Perhaps the waitresses would have been able to provide some semblance of redemption for this place had they shown even half as much intelligence as they did cleavage. The Rat's Head... it wasn't uncommon for a tavern to be named after its signature dish; Saiten wouldn't have been surprised if that was the case here. Despite the marginal dilapidation of the place, the geomancer had to admit that alcohol and gossip made his work a lot easier. It was amazing what local secrets could be revealed in the drunken tales that adventurers and peasants alike told to one another. Old ruins, hidden treasures, and the dangers to expect could all be discerned by an astute -- and sober -- ear. So, though Saiten ate without relish, he listened attentively.

As Jarad received his booze, the crowd grew quiet for a particularly intoxicated dwarf entertaining them with jokes and tales. "So, a man, an elf, and a dwarf take a piss in the river." he began. "The man takes out soap, washes his hands, and says 'science taught us to us technology and better our lives.' The elf takes out leaves, wipes his hands, and says 'nature has taught us to be resourceful and thankful for what we are given.' The dwarf zips up his pants and says, 'No one ever had to teach us not to piss on our hands." He was met by a bout of drunken laughter, especially from the shorter bearded customers.

Rat´s head, a perfect name for such a kind of tavern. It was filled with rough looking guys who all had their own kind of buisness, none or rather few sat together and joked around, it was a typical tavern for adventues to put it short or to begin one. And so was the weather, a rather warm spring day but still a cold evening, as soon as the sun vanished the tempretures would fall quickly, not going below zero but leaving most people still freezing. Yes it all had it´s charm and some veterans who already participated in too much adventures would surelt cry, since it probably had been one of those days when they started their first one.
So as the day slowly passed it seemed another adventurer entered the tavern of rat´s head, the door opened and the even the last days of sunlight were blocked by this gigantical brutish beast who stood in the frame. Some of the visitors turned around, their eyes quickly widen in fear, some in disgust some other in disbelieve. What they saw was....scary, imagine the most brutal nightmare....well even then you woudnt be close to that what just entered. A Berserker with flame scarred skin, only a wooden armour and some minor protections would not reveal his disgusting burned brown skin, well if there woudn´t be the metallic mask which would hide the face of it´s owner and even the origin of his race. One could not tell if that beast there was human, orc, elv or something else.
As the beast stepped into the tavern some of the scared visitors already holstered their weapons but quickly even gave up that attempt as they saw the danish axe which was in a leather-holster around the berserk´s shoulders.

Without a word he slowly walked towards a table near the stew pot, sitting down and leaning his hilarious big axe against the stool.
Rudely he grabbed the arm of a near Tavern-maid and with a grunt he pointed on the stew pot and then on the bar. "Make it a big portion and 3 ales" the deep and weird voice would say It was certain that his vocal cored got tightend because of a great heat, it so was the reason of the deep, grunting and rough voice, yes it sounded like rusty nails which are getting scratched over a clean cermaic plate.
The maid shivered as the berserk let go of her, she didnt trusted to move or to reply to him and now she was nearly running, trying to statisfy this customer.

As the dwarf continued his story, this time a dwarven creation tale, the bartender from behind the counter delivered Valruk's food; it hit the table with a clatter.
"You gotta pay up front." he stated.