The Hero's Bar

[Warren]

There had been some rumors going around…about a strange little bar that only opened its doors on Saturday or the "The Day of Satur" as some of his patrons called it, it was a pretty strange place, where one could go to have drink and company and just relax, it is also a place where relationships are forged, inspirations made, and salvation for the needy is provided.

The only rules were there was no fighting, even if your enemy happens to come in for a drink, don't piss off the bartender, and always pay your bill, lest you be barred from future entry.

Warren hummed a little as he wandered around the small bar, ensuring that surfaces were clean and stocked.

It had been a long time in getting this far, at least that was what he thought as he soon made his way over towards the window to flip the small sign to 'Open.' Thus allowing the magical doors that appeared all over the world to let patrons in, pausing only a moment to bend down and pat his canine companion on the head who was in a worn and well-loved bed beside the fireplace.

For the first time in his life, he was finally free to do something that he enjoyed besides just cooking. He had no obligations and oaths to tie him down to a once-grand kingdom that was destroyed years ago, where no one knew of his past, not that she would tell anyone about it.

Cleaning his brow off, he turned his gaze to the battered and damaged shield hanging up behind the bar, the blue, gold, and red paint faded from the years, parts of it dented and scratched, but told the tale of battles won and perhaps lost as well.

However, for Warren, it was the only reminder of what he once did but for now, he was content, serving drinks and lending an ear when needed.

 

[foodforpigs]

Marcus had made his hunt, though it was only a rabbit, a paltry reward for his effort. tied to a long stick. He stayed off the roads, which swarmed of army patrols and highwaymen. The hunger and cold clawed at him through the pile of animal hides he draped on himself. Now it was time to find a hole to make camp, so that by next day, he could travel deeper into the wilderness.

The village that was coming into sight had been burned to the ground like the rest. His attention turned to a cottage with a burned roof at its outskirts, but at least looked like it had intact walls. He strapped his bow onto his back and cautiously made his way towards it, pulling out his hunting knife. The howling, freezing wind continued to torture him. He shoved open the warped wood of the cottage door, steeling himself for might be in store for him. He had seen many bodies, killed many in a bid for survival, but he'd never get used to it.

There was no resistance as he entered the bar shoulder first, knife drawn. Marcus pointed his hunting knife at the first sign of a person, his eyes in fright, trying to comprehend how this hearth could be the inside of a burned down cottage of a war-ravaged place.

 

[monkeydoll5]

Rosa had no idea how she had gotten here. That was the truth and nothing but, but who would believe that she had been running from a coup and fallen through a weird door and into this… bar? Where the hell had she ended up.

She sighed, running a hand through wavy locks as she looked around. The place seemed to bustle, with those of all shapes, sizes, and species. Perfect for an heir apparent on the run, she supposed, and with no one else involved in her overthrow around, she figured she could finally let her hair down, and by God was that what she planned on doing as she (very carefully) settled herself onto one of the barstools surrounding the counter. "Christ, my feet." she mumbled, leaning down a moment to readjust her shoes. The adrenaline in her veins had clearly masked the aching in her soles.

Checking her pockets, she exhaled a quick breath of relief as the money she'd collected was still there, right before the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her neck nearly snapped from the quick turnaround and she paused. 'Holy shit he has a knife. What the fuck do I do?'

 

[Warren]

When the two new arrivals entered, a small chime above the door was heard, alerting the elven barkeep and the only employee to their arrival. Dark sliver-blue eyes underneath big round glasses glanced over the both of them, almost like he was making a mental note that they were new to this place, even if their body language didn't give away, and didn't seem to surprise that he had a knife pointed at him, considering that many of the other patron's had visible weapons on them.

He would soon gesture to an open seat there at the bar, should Marcus wish to take a seat after the sudden shock. "Welcome to the Hero's bar M'lady and Sire. What can I get you both?"

 

[foodforpigs]

Marcus still couldn't believe his senses, but this person, whoever he was, arrested his senses more. There was just something about those emotionless silver-blue eyes and the nonchalant way he spoke to him that chilled him more to the bone than the howling chilling winds he had escaped from. Here he was brandishing a weapon, and this... bartender by the looks of things, didn't even give the knife as much as a second glance.

He looked to the woman too. She had been in the middle of readjusting her shoes. She had given his knife its due attention, actually looked tense. In other words, an expected reaction. Marcus lowered the knife, slowly.

"I don't have any money." said Marcus. He didn't know what else to say. He was still confused. Was he hallucinating?

 

[Analog]

So this was it? The bar that had been the subject of many rumors lately. Sure enough, it was open on this very Day of Satur, and had not been open the previous day.

A large figure sauntered towards the place, a gruff looking man around his early forties shouldering his way through the door and past some wide eyed youngster foolishly announcing their lack of money.

"Then make room for those that do." The man grunted as he made his way into the bar and to the front, only sparing the girl a glance.

He wore a heavy grey cloak that covered many an item, belts with weapons and pouches attached to them and another across his back where a large shield was held in place besides a quiver and bow. At his hip, a scabbard was just about visible under his cloak.

Standing at the bar, the man who still had not bothered to introduce himself, eyed the owner with dark brown eyes.

"You serve food here?" He asked, eyes narrowing a touch. There didn't seem to be any other employees around save for the elf. In fact, there didn't seem to be many folks around in general - from the outside.

 

[Warren]

To the others, Warren looked like he was relatively uninterested in everything going on in front of him. In reality, he could feel a bit of a headache coming on as he resisted the urge to reach up and pinched the bridge of his nose he would soon look at the man who entered after Marcus and nodded his head.


"Yes, I serve food here." He said, now reaching underneath the bar to pull out a single sheet of paper and would sit in front of the man, the list consisted of typical food one would find in a bar, simple soups, stews, meats and the like that would go well with any of the drinks listed, though for far fewer coins then a normal tavern, though as he passed the menu over so that the man could read over it, faint scars could be seen that told of another life than that of a simple bartender as Warren soon turned his attention to the girl, giving the girl a glass of water to help with the shock she still seemed to be in. "It's on the house, to help calm your nerves."

Finally, he turned his attention to Marcus who had claimed that he didn't have any money and still seemed rather on guard, though Warren couldn't blame him, it wasn't every day that one wandered into a place expecting one place and winded up in another. "Well." He started to speak, as a thought came to mind. "I could use a bit of help when it does become busy if you know how to at least wash tables and dishes, in turn, I can offer you a small wage and food for the day. Or, you could start a tab here and leave something of value as a promise to pay when you do have money."

 

[foodforpigs]

At this point, Marcus convinced himself that he just had to let this hallucination ride. He was a scavenger and had been away from civilization for many seasons, but he couldn't forget that he was filthy and he stank. To be offered a job right then and there was strange, but not so strange compared to being whisked away to this immaculate tavern through the door of a burned down cottage. Bartering he understood.

With the invitation from the bartender, he shifted up beside the large figure and at the counter, so that the large figure was between him and the woman. He placed the rabbit he had killed for the day on the counter as well as a small pelt of good quality. "I'll do the job. Take these in exchange for the offer." Money just wasn't something he was used to having. The bartender was a strange one, and though he was acting generous, he was also shrewd.

He hadn't hesitated to take the job others might find beneath their dignity. Marcus had lost his along with his previous life. At least his hands would be clean by the end of washing dishes. Maybe he could sneak in washing his face and hair, though he'd having to make sure no one was looking in the kitchen. His face was caked in dirt and his black hair was long, tangled and greasy. He was incredibly eager to have quality cooked meals for a change. Spices. He could smell it in the air.

He turned to the others at the counter forlornly. They seemed more put together than he. This was the first time in a while he had interacted with real actual people in quite a while and he had bungled it. He couldn't muster the words. The older man and the woman probably just wanted him gone. Marcus did take another look at the older man's bow though. Not just anyone could use a bow and use it well. Perhaps in that way they could be considered kin? Marcus' own bow didn't have the same level of craftmanship, and he didn't have a quiver, but it was at least something. On top of all the man's other weapons, it was clearly maintained well.

"I bet you've killed some rather impressive game with that." said Marcus, The bartender hadn't told him to get to work right this instant, and he was curious about these two people. "I presume you two have, uh, been here before."

 

[monkeydoll5]

Well, either Rosa was high or dead, because certainly now she could be either. All she knew was this was definitely not a space she knew of. As Warren passed her a glass, she smiled, nodding gratefully. "Thanks... sorry, just... did a lot of running, is all." she explained, taking a gentle sip. "Thank you." she whispered again. No need to get too deep into her own sorrows when everyone else seemed just as jittery and nervous as she was. Or maybe just annoyed, based on the gruff sound of the other man. She sighed, looking over at the other two and witnessing the conversation at hand. A little tense, sure, but not really involv- shit, now it did involve her.

"No. Um I uh... I actually sort of just... got here by accident? Fell through a weird door and um... yeah." She explained as quick as she could before going back to her glass once more. She just needed to explain in quick words, just like she'd been taught to do by her father. Explain quick enough that they get the gist, but not so much that they know everything. "Uh, first time?" she shot back to Marcus.

 

[dark]

Frigid air blew through Derek's coat, it was cold but not as cold as where he was from. He pulled the coat up around his own body as he had a gun on his back, but he was expecting something far different to what he expected. The magic door was the first time he'd seen anything like it.

He walked through the door and sat down in the tavern, digging out what counted as "money" in his world. He looked around the tavern, not causing trouble but not sure what to expect with these two.

 

[Analog]

As the man behind the bar slid over the menu, Leoric's eyes flickered over it, and the scarred forearm of Warren didn't go amiss. Sharp, dark eyes honed in on those faded injuries as he took the paper, propping himself up against a seat at the bar and responding with a gruff hum that seemed to substitute as a 'thanks'.

Leoric Dyter had been many things, a hunter, a soldier, a mercenary, even a sailor at one point, and in his time he'd chanced upon many a man with a secret. Sure enough, Warren was one such man. The rumors Leoric had heard about this place had been enough to warrant him checking the place out - after all, there were many who were interested in both the establishment and Warren himself, and before Leoric accepted any work, he wanted to scope it out for himself.

Without bothering to look up Leoric noticed the younger man skirt around him to sit on the other side, but he didn't seem to pay much attention. He noticed the filth of course - it was hard to miss and he wasn't exactly pleasantly fragrant either, but again, Leoric didn't seem to stir. His own heavy set cloak and the rest of his clothes and equipment were well-used and dirty in places and he wasn't one to shy away from such things...But the boy sure did look like a sorry lump!

"Aye." Leoric responded to Marcus, but only to the first question, choosing not to answer Marcus' second - whether he took his first response as it's answer was up to him.

As the scene played out around him Leoric half-listened to the man and rather skittish woman speak as he waved a finger at the staff for their attention, ordering a board of cheeses and meat and bread along with ale, and then adding; "An' get the boy a hot bowl of somethin'."

Not once did he look back at the other two, though, instead apparently minding his own business, occasionally looking about the place, taking in the details, the people, the mannerisms. As the door swung open and yet another entered and trained eyes subtly observed the newcomer, Leoric's own hand never too far from a weapon.

 

[Warren]

Warren would just nod his head slightly when Rosa thanked him for the water, the poor girl looked like she was going through a lot right at the moment, so he figured it would be best just to let her relax until she needed something, after all, the bar was a place one could always ask for sanctuary if they needed it after all, one just had to ask.

Hearing the door chime, he glanced up to see Derek come through the door, greeting him as he soon took a seat at one of the tables since the others had already filled the bar counter and would walk out from behind the counter to offer the man a menu, footsteps almost silent and even against the wooden floor, almost like he had training as a solider, to those who would know at least, but could have also been passed off as natural gracefulness, given his race before turning back to Marcus and Leoric.

"There is a wash area, just beyond the door if you wish to wash before you get started after your meal. There should be some clean clothes that might fit as well, should you wish to wash your own," he says, gesturing with his head to a door that hadn't been there a moment ago, or had it been? just a few paces from the counter that had a sign on it that said 'Washroom' as he gathered the rabbit along with the pelt, whisking them away to the kitchen to get started on Leoric's meal after pouring the man's ale.

The Bar was charming inside as it is on the outside, or at least that was the take, given all that was seen from the exterior was the wooden door that had the same shield and sword motif as behind the bar on it, Hardwood beams support an upper floor and the light fixtures attached to them.

The walls are loaded with hundreds of memorabilia, all signed and most likely donated by past customers, but it still had touches that spoke of the owner, such as a few odd-looking trinkets of probably past trips to foreign lands, given the place a unique but cozy vibe, much unlike the owner himself, who seemed closed off and guarded.

 

[foodforpigs]

Marcus nodded to each of the people he had just met and went to the washroom as indicated by the barkeep. Once inside, Marcus went to the tub and to his surprise, hot water had already been drawn for it. He placed his possessions in an open chest: his bow, his makeshift stone arrows, his knife, and his animal pelts, along with his old rags. There was a key beside it, which he used to lock the chest. The hot water and soap felt cleansing as he scrubbed off the grime with a brush. His hair was too tangled to save, so he cut it short, then shaved himself.

The clothes that were in a hanging closet was nothing like he had seen before. They had a similar look to the bartender's, though it didn't have the vest or tie. The set even included socks and shoes. His favorite part of all this was putting on the snug shoes. His own shoes were just leathers that threatened to burst at the seams.

The entire process took a while, but when he emerged from the room that had just appeared, he looked remarkably better, with key in pocket. There was still a tired and wary look in his eyes, but he looked good and felt good. His stomach rumbled. Without a word, the bartender pointed to his meal on a small staff table behind the ledge away from the front of the bar. The meal was a stew from the rabbit he had given him, the pelt it had on a nearby wall along with other memorabilia. Out of force of habit, Marcus 'protected' the bowl with his arm in front of it, looking around every so often like an animal anticipating danger. He used the bread to soak up the broth, savoring every morsel. The bartender, again without saying a word, pointed to the pile of dirty dishes. Marcus got to work quickly. Their interactions throughout the work day would be like this. The bartender would point and Marcus would comprehend and do what was desired of him. He had been a ghost for so long, that being a busy bee made him temporarily forget about the world he'd have to return to by work's end.

 

[monkeydoll5]

Rosa wasn't entirely sure whether the shock of everything had set in, but the drink of water, no thanks to the man who had served them all, was certainly helping her to process the fact she had literally just escaped her own assassination, by people she had trusted and loved. It made her sick to think of it. She glanced over, giving the boys their own sense of space so she could keep hers. She sighed, still drinking when Marcus returned, smiling ever gently as she smelt something edible. It made her mouth water, made her want something of her own to eat. She briefly remembered the dollars she had left in her back pocket, and sighed.