Buncha Idiots in a Tavern

[Chickenspleen]

I'm bored and I'm feeling a bit more creative than usual, so I'm starting up another unstructured RP. Anyone can join anytime.

Rules:
-Everyone starts with 500 gold, leather armor, and their weapon of choice
-Use this character sheet:

Name: (self explanatory)
Race: (elf, dwarf, chocolate chip cookie golem, etc.)
Class: (rogue, wizard, sandwich maker, etc.)
Gender: (male, female, canned tuna fish-kin, etc.)
Weapon of Choice: (sword, spear, cheese grater, etc. -- no two characters should have the same weapon of choice)

 

[coolpool2]

Name: Tilia
Race: Fairy
Multi-Class: Astronomer-Gardener
Gender: Fae-kin
Weapon of Choice: Lantern and Sickle

I was considering naming my character Physalis after the taxonomy genus name for lantern plant/ground cherry. Then I remembered that I already used it, and that Riyant, Tirin and Easy would probably make fun of me, again. Is it okay for me character to be an astronomer and a gardener?

 

[Dunsparce]

Name: Jack
Race: Undead
Class: Paladin
Gender: Male
Weapon: Scythe

Jack is on a religious vow of silence, as evident by his stitched up mouth. He can only communicate through gestures.

 

[Firedemon]

Name: Kahnom
Race: First Caste Genetically Engineered Super Soldier
Class: Rogue
Gender: Male
Weapon of choice: Bad ass plasma pistol

Kahnom suddenly pops into existence in a burst of light, then looks around extremely confused.

"What? This isn't a Ragnarok."

Kahnom checks his pockets and notices the 500 gold pieces and absence of the remainder of his assortment of guns.

"Ah fuck."

 

[Chickenspleen]

The Broomhandle Tavern is unusually crowded for this time of year. It seems that Old Man MacGuffin has been flapping his lips again about some ancient dragon hiding out in the foothills with a big hoard of treasure. Now all of a sudden, right smack dab in the middle of a particularly large lull period, the place has been flooded by hundreds these wannabe adventurers of all shapes and sizes who have swooped in to quickly clear out all the food and drink that the tavern has spent the last several months carefully accumulating. Needless to say the tavern staff are a bit ornery right now.

At the Broomhandle's humble bar sit three of the multitudinous meatheads. One of them is some kind of pixie or something, another looks like a walking corpse, and the last one is this huge monster-looking dude who has apparently just appeared on this plane of existence a few seconds ago. Just another day at work.

Sighing, the barmaid walks over to the counter and glances at the trio of new arrivals.

"What'll it be?"

 

[Firedemon]

"Yeah, uh, do you happen to have a star chart around here?"

 

[Dunsparce]

"Alcohol rots your brain, heathen. I'd like a glass of water, please."

That's what Jack would say if he weren't physically and metaphysically prevented from doing so. Instead, he points at the sink faucet, hoping the barmaid will understand.

 

[coolpool2]

"Something sweet and not too strong please. Oh, and... could you make it small?" The fairy asked as she flew in place.

 

[13thforsworn]

Name: Sheila
Race: Boeing AH-64 Apache
Class: Bird
Gender: Attack Helicopter
Weapon of Choice: 30 mm M230E1 Chain Gun, AGM-114 Hellfire anti-tank missiles, Hydra 70 general-purpose unguided 70 mm rockets

"SOISOISOISOISOISOISOISOI. JET A MAKES ME RUN"

 

[Chickenspleen]

"Yeah, uh, do you happen to have a star chart around here?"

"Ooh, I think we might have one of those outside. It's called the sky."

"Something sweet and not too strong please. Oh, and... could you make it small?" The fairy asked as she flew in place.

The barmaid fills a shot glass with tonic and drops a gummi worm inside.

"Alcohol rots your brain, heathen. I'd like a glass of water, please."

That's what Jack would say if he weren't physically and metaphysically prevented from doing so. Instead, he points at the sink faucet, hoping the barmaid will understand.

The barmaid seems to get the hint and brings Jack a glass of water.

"Just a question, but how are you supposed to drink that with your...uh...stuff?"

She motions toward her mouth.

As this goes on, what appears to be a miniature attack helicopter bursts through the window of the tavern. The janitor grumpily picks himself up off his chair and walks over to inspect the damage.

 

[Colonel Thunder]

Name: Prince
Race: Human?
Class: Musician
Gender: Prince
Weapon of Choice: Guitar


Prince enters the Taven. He walks up to the trio and the attack helicopter.

"What's missing from pop music is danger."

 

[Firedemon]

"Woah, look out!"

Kahnom immediately fires his plasma pistol at Prince

 

[Colonel Thunder]

Prince blocks the shot with his guitar, but the thin wood and plastic cannot withstand the heat of the plasma.

The shot bursts through the guitar and strikes Prince in the stomach. He falls to the ground as three of the guitar strings break, twanging loudly.

Prince breathes heavily as the plasma quickly melts through his organs.

"Life is just one big party," whispers Prince, looking upward. "Parties weren't meant to last."

The final guitar string breaks as Prince takes his final breath.

 

[Firedemon]

"I suddenly have an intense urge to inform someone named @RECONmaster of this man's death. This world is strange."

 

[Dunsparce]

After inexplicably finishing his glass of tap water, Jack prays for the newly dead.

"(Hey @RECONmaster, did you hear that Prince died?)"

 

[Chickenspleen]

In the back of her mind, the barmaid makes a note to let the Broomhandle's owner, @RECONmaster, know about the messy death which has just occurred in his tavern.

 

[Colonel Thunder]

(We are great friends.)

 

[coolpool2]

Tilia watches stunned as the man whose name she could not know is named Prince took his last breath. She considered pouring one out for this man, but causing a mess would not go well with the staff. Instead she downed her entire glass, almost choking on the gummi worm.

 

[Firedemon]

"Um... I'm sorry for all of this mess."

Kahnom nudges Prince's foot with his own and watches it flop back into place.

"Definitely dead..."

Kahnom looks back at the barmaid

"Star chart? Outside you said? Yeah, that sounds like uh, yeah a great idea."

Kahnom quickly exits the tavern and looks straight up at the sky.

"Bitch, it isn't even night."

 

[RECONmaster]

Name: Master Recon
Race: Server Administrator
Class: Webmaster (Forum Archetype)
Gender: Manly as Fuck
Weapon of Choice: A war-hammer forged from the hottest flames and tempered by level heads, across its face the letters B, A and N are raised.

Busting in from the living quarters upstairs Master Recon slams the door open in his drunken stupor. He looks around the tavern at the strange assortment of people who have collected in his place of business when his eyes land on the beautiful figure laying on the floor. The empty bottle fell to the floor shattering and sending shard of glass sliding across the wooden floorboards. To the best of his ability Master Recon stumbles over the the man and kneels besides him.

"Good night sweet prince."

After a moment of silence he looks back up the the people in the tavern.

"When the hell were you pissers gonna inform me about this?"