There comes a time in every woman's life when she just decides, "To hell with it." and opens up a bar, at least, this happened to Cerul. She wasn't one for being polite or even the least bit sweet to strangers, but she got by. It all happened one day when her mate suggested that she should start selling the brew she had in her basement. Cerul laughed at his joke but he continued looking at her seriously. She pondered the idea, until finally, today, she had opened her bar. ---- "Oi, you with the ugly mug, get those stools ovar there!" Cerul shouted with an enraged expression on her face. She wasn't expecting the venture to be easy, hell no. She knew it'd probably be one of the hardest things she had to conquer, but she could tell it'd be worth it. You see, Oldham didn't have many pubs, it had but two and one was nearly a half hour walk out of town. So, as long as Cerul could get the joint up and running, she knew she could be making some cash. She stumbled over two woman washing some floor boards and she nearly kicked their ribs in but composed herself. "Everyone, get yur arses ovar here, I've got some news." She shouted excitedly. She had found out that they were nearly finished with getting the place in order, at least fifteen minutes more and they'd be set. O' course she needed a few more waitresses and some bartenders, but that would come with time. She smiled as the men finished with putting the chandelier, an old carved wooden one her father had given her, up onto the roof. "S'time to open up!"