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 Posted: Thu Jan 13, 2011 9:48 pm
~Rogue's Rest~
A Freestyle Tavern RP
A few notes before you go:
Character profiles have a thread of their own. Please leave all profiles in that thread. Even multiple-character-syndrome sufferers such as myself will be leaving their profiles in that thread.
Respect Rori. I'll repeat this here shortly, but she is my DM avatar for this RP. Thus, follow the rules she has stuck on the wall of her property. Thank you.
Freestyle means that there is no central quest and no set universe outside of the tavern grounds. DM will be throwing random miniplots and troubles at the RPCs. That said, don't change my set world, alright? wink
Ultimately and just as a reminder
Please, have fun. There are no unreasonable limits. I only ask that you type in third person, do not use asterisks ** for actions, use italics for thoughts, and quotes "" for speech. Bracket (()) {} [] your OoC chat.
Give your fellow players something to respond to in interaction.
Be a good player, or use this as your chance to learn if you're not so skilled just yet.
Don't be afraid of conflict! If it's defused too early, then we'll be stuck at an impasse. So don't be afraid to let trouble run its course.
Got questions? Ask Rori! She'll know. Or I will. Depends on whether or not your question is in-character. Either way, ask DM (me) or her avatar should a concern arise. I've been told by my last group that I made a decent DM and I'd like to continue to be so. 3nodding
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Posted: Thu Jan 13, 2011 11:49 pm
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Posted: Fri Jan 14, 2011 12:10 am
 The red neon sign glows like a beacon in the stark pitch of night, beckoning to the weary traveler to seek the shelter of its neutral ground. Here, arrest warrants are null, hunters' licenses void, and only the rules of its proprietor may remain in effect.
Wrought-iron fence surrounds a ten-acre plot of land, a yellow-lit cobblestone path absently meandering to a lighted front door of the two story cabin-like structure. Off to either side of the broken stone, lush trimmed grass rolls out like a Persian rug. Upon the right, meeting with the cold concrete of a field not unlike a sports court. Stands with assorted weaponry act as guards of a small building at the far end. Past this small building rises an organized grove of trees, obviously not the doings of Nature. In the fall, these trees would bear an assortment of temperate fruits for those who may yet still taste them.
Opposite this is an open field, a pond at its northern point. Stones polished smooth by years of erosion are stacked at one end, obscuring the mechanism that creates the small waterfall which provides aeration for the large multicolored carp and goldfish under the water's shimmering surface.
After taking in this verdant sight, one's eye wanders to the edifice itself. The path ends at a verandah, the wall broken only by a carven door and two windows on either side of this door. Opening the door and walking in, there is a coat check closet to the right. Past this room the eye can see two wooden tables with oil lanterns in the center, four chairs around each table, and more chairs are stacked along the east wall. Opposite, there is a fireplace providing the majority of the light and heat in the building. A sofa and two matching chairs face this fireplace; in the middle of these is a coffee table. Just south of this feature is a staircase leading up.
At the north end is the bar, its smooth granite surface broken by a set of swinging doors to permit tavern staff through. A wine rack seems to be there solely for decoration, though at the request of a patron, the drinks are brought out from either the cellar or the kitchen.
Returning to the staircase and following them, there is a wide hall with six rooms, three on each side. Each contains the basic necessities of life. Nothing too fancy, but nothing low quality. To rent, one must simply ask the staff.
The final feature, and yet one of the most important, is the plaque of rules, penned by the proprietor herself in a stern but elegant hand, and framed in a simple but quite conspicuous steel design. This object hangs over the fireplace with the air of a disciplined castle guard.
Her guidelines are simple:
All kinds are welcome.
Respect.
Disputes are to be settled outside the walls of the tavern.
No one is invincible.
No one knows all.
No one is exempt from these rules.
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Posted: Fri Jan 14, 2011 1:39 am
A trim figure knelt beside the fireplace, prodding the fuel of the blaze with a steel poker. The figure stood, brushing a few strands of espresso shoulder-length hair behind her ear, placing the poker back in its stand, and walked back to her granite counter with a glance at a fellow rogue, who normally manned the coat check during times of activity.
The tavern was dreadfully empty. The three staffmembers, the last being a cook or some sort of kitchen faculty, were beginning to wonder when they might next receive a patron or two. They had cease-fires from all the important clans, which promised them that they would remain neutral ground; a no-man's land in the center of all the major clan territories. So why was this building so bloody empty? There was always a rogue looking for shelter, or a newborn seeking refuge, or even the rare hunter on the track of potential prey.
So why was the place so empty?! The proprietor, a rogue German-descent vampire by the name of Rori Mauer, yelled silently in her head as she huffily threw a damp rag on the counter with an audible thwack.
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Posted: Fri Jan 14, 2011 8:17 am
A purple figure by the name of Lolita causually walked in, a butterscotch lollipop in one hand and a violin case in the other. She shivered slightly, some frost on her shoulders. Her usual expressionless face scanned the tavern. Dark and empty, her favorite combo. She licked her lollipop as she walked over to a chair, sitting, tired and cold from her journey. Her red eyes show coldness and irritation. Her feet hurt, she was hungry. Hopefully she can find a human around. Some warm blood could help her hunger and body temperature. But first, she needs to rest.
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