In every town in the world there's a place like The Broken Drum. Sometimes it's nothing more than a friendly farmer's barn with a plank resting on a few beer barrels, while other places are country mansions fully equipped with everything an adventurer could need for rest, relaxation and rearmament. The Broken Drum was neither of these, but somewhere in between, a weathered old building set back from the road, its door open day and night with the warm glow of its fires lighting the courtyard and the stables always stocked with fresh straw.

It had been a quiet night so far and as Geoff, the half-troll barkeep, looked over his domain the only person he saw was his half-halfling barmaid Hilda as she scurry between the table, polishing the battered wooden surfaces, trying to hide the worst of the bloodstains and worse signs of wear and tear. He smiled to himself, admiring her graceful dance, Hilda was a talented little wench who could handle a trayful of drinks and slap down any unwanted advances with equal ease. Geoff was sure their was pixie blood in her somewhere, although he'd never say that to her face.



Settling back Geoff savoured the quiet moment. Something in the air told him it'd be a busy night tonight, but for now he had some peace to enjoy just for himself. Hopefully things wouldn't get too rambunctious, unlike the night before. As he thought back to what had happened Geoff's gaze rose to the ceiling, where the double-headed axe was still buried deeply in the wooden beam.

Mirai walked into the empty tavern, bathing in the hearths warm glow as he passed under the door frame, heading for his table in the far corner. He had been coming to The Broken Drum since his apprentice years, even now after passing into the masters guild, the Tavern was still his home from home after the long hours in the field; on the occassional day he had time to visit.

Almost tripping over Hilda as she scurried around, he greeted her with a nod, plucking a sliver of food from her shoulder as she passed and burning it in his hands. Passing by the centre table, Mirai was reminded of the previous nights patrons, and there fondness of axes.

Settling back into his chair, leaning his staff against the wall and lifting his feet up onto the table - Mirai picked through his pocket to find 2 silver peices. Putting one on the table he sent the other hovering over to the bar, where Geoff stood, as he pulled his hood up over his head and closed his eyes.

" Usual Geoff my friend "



@SimplyJohn

A lute playing very strange fast paced tunes grew louder and closer to the front door. Suddenly the door was kicked open relieving a young man making unsavory faces while stringing his lute madly. Caught up in the moment, the young man played three more dramatic chords before screaming with wide eyes, "Who is ready to ROCK!?"



Only seeing the half orc bartender and the barmaid going about their business, he let out a deep sigh. If he couldn't play this new music for a large crowd, he didn't want to do it at all. It had came to him in a dream, and he somehow knew that it would revolutionize the musical world one day, but not today it seemed. So he adjusted his lute to rest upon his back and sullenly walked his way over to the main bar, searching for lubrication.

@Balthazar007

Once the young man finished, Mirai laughed, his enthuisiasm was to his credit. Infact he was rather impressed, and as such sent the silver coin he had left laying on the table hovering over to the young man.

The boy deserves a boost he thought.

It was getting chilly - the door wide open. Mirai sent a fiery ball flying over into the hearth, the usually warmth in the room returning pleasantly to normal.

@MonstrousMan

Slowly shuffling his way to the bar with a sunken posture, the young man noticed a silver coin float just into view. His instincts as a starving musician kicked in right away as he snatched the coin out of the air with much vigor. Searching in the direction the coin had come from, he saw a rather mysterious looking fellow in the corner of the tavern. Just as he laid eyes on the man, he bear wittiness to a magical display of fire. Realizing that the tavern immediately became a little more cozy, it dawned on him that he forgot to shut the front door.

The young man quickly darted back over to the door and shut it with a graceful thud. Turning back around to face the man in the far corner, he exclaimed, "Thank you good sir! I really do appreciate your kindness. If you have any musical requests, please let me know. I am fairly well versed in all modern tunes."

A quick bow toward the magical man, and he resumed his walk to the bar. This time his step was more spirited, reaching the bar in a matter of moments. He asked the half-Orc bartender for a mug of the darkest ale in the house, dark ales being his favorite.

Glad to see the young man had taken the coin, in a some what desperate manor it must be said, Mirai glanced at the open door to see an orc walking through. He had the look of a mercenary or warrior about him, tattered armor and a broad-axe.

Just as the orc ducked under the doors frame the young man, not looking at what he was doing, slammed the door in his face. Mirai would of laughed, but thought against it, this night wasn't going to be a peaceful one - although it rarely was. The musician thanked him bowing low, and went to spend his money on an ale. It would probably have been a smarter idea, considering the orc outside, to use the money for a room to hide in.

No matter, if needs be Mirai could interveen.

For now he waited for his pint and plate.

The young man was already halfway through his first mug of ale when he ordered a plate of chicken as well. Between hardy gulps, he started to get a tingling feeling on the back of his neck. Turning around slowly, he saw a massive orc standing just inside the doorway. The orc stared straight at him with a most unpleasant look on his face.

The young man slowly pulled his lute around to his front side and faced the orc at his bar stool. "Hey big guy," his voice shook a little, "do you like music?" He then began playing a deep forest melody that he had often used to calm wild beasts, orcs included. In fact, throughout his wandering adventures, he had avoided a near death experience with a tribe of hungry orcs with this very same tune.

Mirai inspected the brute as he stepped inside, rubbing his reddened nose. Staring intently the orc took a step toward the lute player. To Mirai's surprise the boy pulled his lute out and began to play 'Rocks upon leaves'. The orc was unintelligent, that was no secret, but it was more dumbstruck than subdued. Stopping to look at the flute, then back to the boy, then back to the flute.

A smile broke over its face, as the door had done, a malicious smile - as it heaved its axe from its holster.

Mirai waited, ready to act.

@Balthazar007

The young minstrel played his melody until he saw the raise of the orc's axe. "Well, it was worth a try!" He exclaimed before hopping down from his seat and running past the orc with all the speed and skill as your typical vagabond in his prime.

Determined to put on a good show, as all entertainers are inclined, the young man started playing a new melody. This melody had an upbeat folky tune, and as the young man played, he danced. With both eyes on the orc, his movements were intentionality taunting.
@monstrousman

@MonstrousMan " Usual Geoff my friend "

Shaken out of his reverie by the arrival of the regular Geoff smiled over at Mirai and reached under the bar for some of his special stock while plucking the floating coin out of the air with his other hand. Pouring a tall glass of something which seemed to glow with an inner blue light of its own in the dim light, the barman gestured over to the quarterling and carefully placed the drink on a tray for her before finishing it off with a small pink umbrella.

"Be careful to keep away from the fire with this one," He instructed the wench as she picked up the order with her usual brazen grace, "We don't want to have to rebuild the fireplace for a third time this year, do we?"

Hilda simply smiled at her boss with a mocking curtsy before weaving her way off towards Mirai's table and presenting his with the concoction, along with a far sweeter smile as her eyes rested on the second coin for a moment. Over at the bar Geoff rolled his eyes at Hilda's obvious sultry playacting, he knew to keep an eye on the girl to make sure she didn't try slipping out to the stables to earn herself a little extra coin on the side. His last barmaid had thought that a good idea too, before ending up with a orc-spawn halfbreed in her belly.

@Balthazar007

Turning to his next customer Geoff quickly reached for a skewer and a plate, hooking one of the roasting birds down from over the firepit behind the bar and letting it fall onto the wooden serving platter. Dropping the plate in front of the young bard Geoff waited for payment, both for the chicken and for the ale, his own ale which the young rapscallion had helped himself to as it had rested on the bartop. The boy had already whipped his instrument back out, plucking at the strings and filling the air with noise which Geoff had been assured by others passed for music to the younger generations.

"That'll be four silver, young man." The gruff half-troll barked, "Unless you're thinking of putting on a performance for the night in which case I could start a slate for you?"

Mirai was about to suspend the Orc, but the lute player seemed to have the problem in hand. This was going to be entertaining! Thanking Hilda with a smile, and pulling another silver coin from his pocket, he placed it on the table and slid it over to her with a note. Geoff sure did know how to make sea-broth, and it was just as refreshing as ever.

The umbrella was a nice new touch.

"Oh my I am late" Said the small man. He wasnt a man of the blade, nor was he a man who quite fitted in around there. He was a man that wore clothing not fit for battle. A long white scarf, a black smart trench coat and brown spectacles. A brown hat that looked so forine it wasn't a joke. No he diddnt fit in at this place but he was late and he diddnt have the time in the dark to keep going. Pushing the door open into the small tavern room he sighed "Looks like ill be spending the night in a den of thieves". Standing looking at the scene he could see a suicidal bard and a brandishing orc. Taking his moment saver out, a small box that had a pixie draw a picture of it with a quick flash to memorialise the occasion. "Are you not going to help this poor man?"

Mirai, laughing at the foolish lute player, stopping immediately as a man walked in the door. A strange sense of recognition rising in his mind. The orc was drawing close to the flute player, who seemed to think playing faster was the remedy to the situation.

A bright flash.

Looking away and covering his eyes Mirai almost fell from his chair. Just as fast as the light appeared and passed, a distant memory slipped into his mind. He knew this man, he was sure of it. Standing and slowly making his way across to the door, he waved his hand - freezing the lute player and orc where they stood. The lute player pulling an absurd face of strained confidence, while the orcs axe was raised high. It wouldn't hard them, and they were still aware of their surroundings, but it helped Mirai concentrate.

He stopped a few feet from the strange man. Do I know you? he thought, but said nothing.

The glasses were what seemed familiar.

@User

This place brought back memorys. Granted they wernt all good but they were real, as many adventurers will tell you, life is the bomb when you adventure. You own your life and only answer to your own morals. However, most adventurers die in their first year or succum to the pain they couldnt save them. Adventuring is double headed sword that gets sharper with age. He got out while he still had limbs at the immpressive age of 45, thats 20 more years then most kings! Anywho he needed a drink.

Wandering to the bar he stood politely "Umm excuse me sir?" He was never good with people "Umm, do you have a 1267 Falmer wine" (Btw, this is like a rare brew, expensive too. If you have it you are a first class joint)

Mirai spell stopped the young lute player in his tracks just as the orc was about to swing his axe downward. This sudden freezing annoyed the lute player, as his song and dance had not reached it's proper ending. But perhaps he was letting things drag out too long. With a moment of concentration and inner magic of his own, the lute player snapped out of the trance.

He then walked to the backside of the orc, and played a few more moments of music. This time however, the music did not reach the ears of anyone other than the orc. This spell would erase the orcs memories and render it unconscious for a few minutes. Whenever it was released from the mage's spell, the orc would enevitably fall over in slumber, if it hadn't already woken back up by then. Either way, the orc would have no memories of being taunted by the lute player or being hit in the face with the door for that matter.

After dealing with the orc, the young, and now mysterious, minstrel mounted his lute again onto his back. He then walked to the bar in order to pay for and finish his meal and drink in peace.

@MonstrousMan

He did know him, but he thought in impossible. He had to consult his books and tablets, he could not risk scarying him away in any fashion

With a blink of light and a dispersal of a strangely bacon smelling substance, Mirai disappeared.

As the burst of light exploded across the room Geoff felt the wave of magical energy wash over him causing his amulet to sparkle for a moment as it automatically nullified any effects the spell may have intended for him. Like a shot his arm reached out towards the fireplace, the knobbly old staff hanging above it leaping across the room and into his hand.

Pointing the lump of wood towards Mirai in a manner which was a fairy wing's breadth away from being threatening Geoff scowled at the regular unhappily, "Oi," He barked out loudly, "Watch the magic, these enchantments aren't cheap, y'know!"

A moment later the wizard was gone, leaving behind only a wisp of smoke. "Yeah, you'd better run," Geoff mumbled to himself.

@User "Umm excuse me sir? Umm, do you have a 1267 Falmer wine"

Carefully lowering the weathered tree branch Geoff turned his attention to the new customer, clearing his throat with a deep rumbling cough before smiling at the small man. "I'm sorry you had to see that Sir, now Falmer wine y'say?"

Reaching up Geoff scratched at his chin for a moment as he tried to remember what he had stocked in the cellar these days. "Don't get much call for it in these parts, and I know we don't have any of the 1267 in. As far as I recall there may be a couple of bottles of the '76 still downstairs, if that'll do you? We also have plenty of the '82, but we tend to use that to clean the privies, as I'm sure you'd understand."

1282 had been a particularly bad year for the Falmer wineries, an invasion by nerglings had left the grape harvest almost entirely destroyed and the Falmers had been forced to use the only crop they had plenty of in order to fill their quotas. Unfortunately it was almost universally agreed that nerglings wine was by far the worst tasting beverage ever concocted and now the only places bottles could be found were in the lairs of the most evil of evils, served to their 'guests' as the greatest of insults allowed within the rules of etiquette. And in troll bars, as their rocky nature made the highly acidic brew a delicacy.

Murmur, future Devil God of this world and pint sized tyrant walked into the Drum with the confidence that only a Devil God could have. While there were a variety of things that he should be doing instead of being here. He needed to refresh himself for his next exploit. While only last night he had faced off with a vicious dragon, while under the influence of pixie blood! To anyone else this would have been a huge disadvantage but for a Devil God it was nothing more than entertainment. Now it was debatable if what he faced was in fact a dragon or a lizard but both had scales so it didn't matter anyway, he had seen a dragon so therefore it must have been a dragon.
Murmur strode with his staff shouldered, a broom that was left after a woman found him in a stable covered in blood and snoring after having feasted and devouring an entire horse. Like everything that Murmur did destiny played a role, so destiny wanted him to find the boom and while it was unassuming he owned it which made it a weapon of unspeakable power and fear! His beady little red eyes glanced around and he walked to an empty table and worked his way onto a stool.
He leaned his broom-staff on the table and with a claw fished out a single gold coin from his pouch placing it on the table with incisive movements. Murmur may be small, someone of his height would probably fear the huge bartender and the axe imbedded into the wood but not Murmur!
He was of course a Devil God and nothing on this plane or the next could ever hurt him. He however could easily incinerate anyone that would dare to defy him, but tonight he just felt like drinking and perhaps speaking of his exploits. He craved something with pixie blood, he had recently developed quite the addiction to it. That and it was good for Dragon killing.

"Anything with Pixie Blood!"

He enthusiastically shouted while adjusting his hat. He knew that in places like this the louder you were the quicker you would be served, or was that the best way to get kicked out? No matter he had gold, he had magic, and he had his broom-staff and obviously his tremendous commanding presence would defer anyone from attempting to start anything. You know future Devil God and all that.

Sember opened the door to the bar, examining the surroundings in the establishment, looking each creature up and down before entering, cautiously walking over the the bar and sliding onto a seat, glancing around and seeing a small creature a few seats down. Her expression became quizzical before she smiled a little, laughing lightly to herself.

"Ill take your oldest wine if you please" He pulled his hat over his eyes and twiddled with his glasses. He was nervous, he never did like places like these, they always ended with him running or cutting someone balls off. He hated the things he had done, the things he was going to to do. And worse of all the things he will do in the future. He is still torn with the screams of the children stuck in the building. For years he has been flying his airship and peddling his steam-bike. He was a living fossil of what the life used to be like. A kicking shell of every-man he had ever met, everyone he had met who had died for the best reasons and worse. All his friends who fought beside him... They all live through him.

Watching the man poof off wasnt unsusual, he lived in strange times. The problem was, he never finished his drink. He was in such a hurry like him that he must have been looking for something. Without looking he asked a open question "So has the Iron League came by?"