The Broken Goblet

[selhan]

Time of Troubles...

When the sky rumbled and rained down fire and chaos, some ran out in wonder, some ran out to protected what they cherished, others fell to bended knees only to pour tears, the remaining packed up their belongings and fled...



Only the ones able to endure, with the fortitude of a dwarf remained. Much has recently happened in the Sword Coast, not even a week has passed then but tragedies and confusion pile up in an ever-growing mound. It is hard to grasp at all that is happening around us, and much change goes undocumented. However, rumor's still reach our ears as information travels, albeit slowed by the unpredictable state of magic.



The cry of death, the scream of a dying goddess ripped through the skies while Beregost felt the droplets of crimson rain. Up to this very day, magic has yet to return to normal. Most mages fled in hiding or frustrations feeling absolute powerless without their relied magics. The few that remain where obviously made of more sterner stuff, nor did they lost faith or hope. Nearly everywhere people would hear a mage curse in anger but for whatever reasons, they still continue to struggle through the times that put them at a disavantage.



Mage hunters with fake sigils and emblems some true, some false, equally targeted mages of all sorts. Some adventurers had the will and the resolve to stand up for others that were at a disadvantage, offering protection and safe havens. The others hid like cowards or selfishness had the better of them for they ignored or abandon the weak.

Even word from the Underdark manage to reach the ears of the bartender of the Goblet. Talks of rocks coming to life to add to strange tales. Passages once frequently used now collapsed, and thee only means for passage now to the surface are deep below Durlags Tower leaving only the smartest or the strongest of drows to make it through. But why do they come to the surface? Don't they have their own world to heal or worry about? Only few knows, many more simply don't care for they have their own problems.



New conflict arises, the debate of arcane users safe passage or banishments speak through seething teeth's. Amn laws, arrest and executes. Baldurs give more sway but will deliver a firm hand if laws are violated.



In the morning between 13'th and 14'th of Eleasis, a great battle took place else where. Yet everywhere the conclusion of such a battle was felt. Many suddenly died, others felt hopeless, and few took advantage. The remaining ran for their own lives. Manshoon's is a name spoken by few, his return sparks many questions. Some feel the spawning devils south of Beregost might even be his very doing.



Parties? Celebration? Do the common folks and nobles not consider being offensive in their gestures? Are they that relax with fat bellies and riches to consider their very act might be blasphemous to other beings ? The bartender of the Broken Goblet would say, when you piss someone off, best to sleep with one eye open.



The Cloakwoods stir constantly with one thing after another. From Shadow Druids, to elementals and Giant Spiders and even Infernal Undead. Is it all tied into one big knot? Or are these separate chapters of their own creation? Who knows, only the brave ones that dare to tackle the situation head on. So few are interested but why? Have they lost hope? Or are they merely cowards? Time will tell like with many other things.



And what of the devils in the south? Their purpose their reason? Where they summon to cause havoc? Things maybe quiet for now. But the bartender of the Goblet has the habit of saying.."When things are quiet..it makes my skin crawl."

And of the latest of news, had to be about the Undeads in the Fields of the Dead. The bartender of the Broken Goblet would show a disgusted facial expression and say to you..

"I bloody hate things that don't bleed."

[selhan]

Doing Favors..

"Think I can ask you a favor?"

"Sure what's that?"

-----------------------------------

"Bartender, you look like you get around and know things."

"I am a bartender, but still it depends on what yer needin"

-----------------------------------

Lore
Durlag's Tower was a large tower south of the Wood of Sharp Teeth, situated on top of a rough patch of hard rock. This local landmark was the isolated keep of Durlag Trollkiller, son of Bolhur the Clanless, a dwarven hero said to have amassed a large quantity of treasure and stored it here and in a few other locations. This treasure was protected by all manner of magical wards and mechanical traps, the latter of Durlag's own devising. Many adventurers sought his treasure over the decades, with varying degrees of success. The fortress was located a couple of miles from the small settlement of Gullykin

Adventuring, something the bartender of the Broken Goblet seldom does now a days. He had his shares of adventuring days. He's found his own riches and trinkets that he thinks he will ever need. But why is it when someone asks a daring favor, or one of great dangers he always seems to be willing. In truth, danger was always fun to him. He had always chased the thrill of something challenging. Overcoming risks was a pleasurable thing to him, the feeling was erotic at times.



Deep dark dungeons filled with various lingering creatures of all sorts. Tunnels or corridors filled with deadly traps able to kill a person that makes the most stupid of mistakes. The thrill of the challenged had always lured him. To pull off the impossible was always invigorating. But his days of such ventures was long done and over. He had lacked the interests for such things now a days. But then when asked a favor , why, why was he willing? The answer might very well be, because it gave him a reason too.



And also, for this man, a word is meant to be kept. When a man agrees to do a favor, that man is expected to see it through. Some say a man has three things in this world, his sword, his balls, his word. Without them he's just a tavern wench.



From dry dunes, to dangerous castles, to searing tunnels and shadow plans and chilling temples to the darkest of worlds, if for a favor the bartender would venture through such dire places. When someone asks a bartender for a person a place or a thing, its always good to throw in a generous tip. After all, a barter would have friends aplenty. He just may have the means, if not know someone to see that requested favors do indeed get done. In another time, he so hated failure. It was never an option.

When asked about what he thought about folks doing favors, the bartender of the Broken Goblet would tell you...

"Don't make promises yer cant keep. You become dead the moment you think promises are meant to be broke. Who ever made that theory is bloody stupid."

[selhan]

Trials..



There comes a time, when a persons soul is tested. Put forth through the worlds trials and tribulations. We all like to play the game of the world and have our own bit of fun. Sometimes crossing lines and boundaries, being daring and doing things that are well forbidden. But the risks, the risks is always invigorating, for it is always lead by temptations. Often times, when we as mortals or even gods, get away with such fun, tend to fall into a routine that soon becomes a habit. And when habit goes on for so long, we tend to be careless, or neglectful. And before we know it, we are facing a trial that can very well decided the fate of our lives. Some may walk away with a serious lesson to learn, others..are not that fortunate and will have to suffer from the hand of execution.



"Once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about. After all, the most difficult battles in life are those we fight within."



The gathering in the Broken Goblet is a normal thing. Patrons upon patrons engaging in conversations. Even when the bartender had yet arrived. But his absence never means there were no drinks. Captain Pike would had served with displeasure more or less. But Goblet coins is Goblet coins and Goblets had to be filled.



In the coming days a trial will be held. Someone's brother, someone's father, someone's son will have to answer to charges of a serious crime. "What will be the outcome?" Was some peoples question. Others simply cared not. Some where surprised , and others were not surprised at all. What a lot of patrons in the Broken Goblet could agree on is , how does a father simply abandon his daughter and give up his house and men? Talks of treachery, words like turn coat or traitor had spit forth from angry tongues of patrons in the Goblet before. Some agree such a man is no father at all or not worthy of the title. Others, simply smirk and prefer to continue drinking their goblets empty for such matters are not important in their lives. They all are the sort of patrons the Broken Goblet has. And it would be told, that the bartender of the Broken Goblet is looking forward to attend such a trial.

[Deragnost]

- The Haunted Ship -

---

Another day at the Goblet, another song, another story. When the minstrel had finished her performance and got paid from the client who commissioned a song to her, she stayed among the patrons. For a true bard knows their place is among the people. Wether she sings or talks or remains silent, that's just a bard's place. And while she was there, it was then that a sailor began to name a few stories of his during his lifetime at sea.

"Aye the lad left from Luskan a,' ended up in Neva'winter.. I couldn' deal wit' the barfin' for days. No thanks."
"Someone's gotta feed the fish though. If not him, who?"
"Though there'n be this one ol' lad, Who had one eye an' sat on the dock everyday fishin' - Who said this line ta' me.. May yer lungs neva' fill of water - An' yer glass never empty of rum.. Funnily enough, He only drank water and drowned in a fermentin' barrel o' rum."

*Chuckles can be heard around the tavern*

"I neva' sailed tha' of an interstin' life."
"Neither did his mother I suspect."
"Tha' may change."
"Quite true."

"Rose. You know any stories? The lad with the tail is runnin' outta tales."

---

Rose was indeed enjoying herself the evening among the patrons when the voice sort of woke her up from the torpor. Her bright light-blue eyes looked around for a brief instant, as if searching around, wondering what did happen. It took her less than a second to understand the situation, but inside her mind it felt like it was an eternity. A story to tell? Many in fact. Suitable for the Goblet, with sailors? Not that many. Then she remembered of a particular tale.

"Yes, I think I have one story."





"In Waterdeep there was this story of a ship called "Golden Medal", owned by a rich Captain. One day, around 1311, it sank. Everyone thought about building a new ship, calling it Golden Medal II."

The bartender walks in only giving a brief scan of the tavern as he beelines to the back room. He's sweaty and covered in soot and looks dirty and tired.

"However, every single time they tried to build it, the night later they'd find out all of the lumber was stolen: disappeared out of nowhere, and nowhere to be found. Not in the docks, not among the caravans, not in other cities. Nothing. it was just gone."

"Until one day, the Harbormaster received a sending from the Captain of the Golden Medal - which everyone thought he died under the waves. The Sending said: «I die.» And when that message was heard, suddenly a rotten vessel appeared from the waves, coming out with a booming tide."



"The vessel was in poor conditions and was supposed to sink, but instead it was sailing right before the docks of Waterdeep. The Harbormaster observed it, and the name was... just it. Golden Medal."

*Noises of people drinking, while listening.*

"So everyone decided to recover the vessel, for the anchor was cast. They boarded it... and suddenly, the horror: all of the men that were supposed to be dead some years ago, they were there. Dead, but their bodies were... as if they just perished.

"No blood. No anything. Just dead. And when the man that was supposed to manhandle the Golden Medal II approached the ship and boarded it, reaching for the helm..."

*A long silence falls in the tavern.*

"...The whole ship plunged into the waters, dragging along the crew and the Captain of the Golden Medal II. All sailors from Waterdeep went and searched for the ship...

But...

...it was nowhere to be found. However, sometimes, the Harbormaster swears he can still hear the message «I die» on the same day he heard it the first time. And for a moment... he could swear before all the Gods to have seen the same ship sailing the sea, before disappearing under the waves."

---

Wether the tale was true or not, Rose couldn't truly know. For a moment, to her, it was as if she was back at the Bardic Academy in Waterdeep. Her dreamy eyes looked toward a specific spot in the tavern, before a shout made the metaphorical bubble of thoughts pop.

"Your pregnant redhead did!"

[selhan]

Filled Goblets



"Wouldn't you like to get away?
Taking my arse to the goblet to see my buddy Sel.
Volstaag will punch you in the face if you don't act real well.
Mirella will take his attention away. . .
Sometimes you wanna go;
Where everybody knows your name.
And they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see;
That all of our troubles are all the same.
You wanna be where everybody knows your name!"



"You wanna be where you can see, that all of our troubles are all the same." Aye the Guardian was right. As I look upon the many faces in the tavern, they all had troubles what where the same as each other. Regardless who they were or what they were. The Archdruid sang true words, that flowed into the ears of all the patrons. Some patrons barely knew each other, some considered each other friends or more. Others disliked each other, and few times spilled each others blood. But this was the Broken Goblet, and this bartender didn't intervene between patrons and their conflicts so long as they all followed the rules of the Goblet.



Men and woman from all walks of life come here for a drink, for a rumor, for a song or to conduct business if their hearts were stern enough. I can truly say, I have witness friendships created, friendships severed. Their lives are their own. I can not intervene or come in between their conflicts or dislikes for each other. If I do, then that will be the beginning of the end of the Goblet. And I have put in far too much work to let it end any time soon.



Cold glares and narrowed eyes will be aplenty. Bickery and insults come and go. The fighting pit or outside the front door is where things are settled. The thing about Roaringshore is that is a lawless Pirate Village. Drunken brawls or conflicts from people disliking each other is not a crime, nor with anyone really get punished. Not unless its a transgression against the High Captains. If that happens, then execution will soon follow, and here in the shore hanging bodies tend to remain hanging for a long period of time. It serves as a cold reminder to any attempted transgression against the Shore'.



Some fights or brawls are for sport or even friendly. A test of might, a test of skills. Some people would call such things barbaric or even brutal. And aye it can be considered as. But why stop it? Why discontinue the culture? If so, the place becomes no different than that of other taverns. I've always said, someone has to serve drinks to the bad boys and girls. And besides, I feel my patrons are fun....most times..



Most of my customers are made of sterner stuff. In which I like to see. Even after a person was beaten in a fight, and even tossed down the grate, some of them still come back to the tavern and shake the hurt with a good drink. There was always that saying, "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger." And here, after days of insults, and fighting, a person becomes immune, calloused. Their heart becomes like stone and the little sensitivity that may had once cause a shake in their pride, soon turns numb. And emotions will often get left behind the front door.



Life is a song - sing it. Life is a game - play it. Life is a challenge - meet it. Life is a dream - realize it. Life is a sacrifice - offer it. Life is love - enjoy it. That is how I see things and I believe that's how life was, is and forever will be.



"Dance."
"Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance."
"Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance."
"Dance dance dance dance dance."
*Still pounding the counter*
"DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE--!"

When I, the bartender resort to doing outrageous things, some will consider me silly, some will think me disgraceful, others will think me entertaining, and even tactful. "A fool is not a fool if he only acts the fool. The fool would be the ones fooled by his show to act the fool." Much like the owner of the Broken Goblet. Is it normal that a mere old woman simply owns a bar within a pirate village? If a person believes that, then their the biggest fool I've ever met, and deserve to impale themselves on their own blades.



The Broken Goblet is not simply a tavern. It is more. A place nestled in between the North and South. A place where I seen surfacers mingle with under dwellers if not more. Where crews fish out potential prospects to add to their ranks, where rumors are spread and shared, where fresh boots find a foothold to figure out what they plan to do with their lives. A place of entertainment, a place to relax, a place of tales and songs, even a place to reach out beyond a persons normal boundaries.



Like when a man is willing to do anything to remove his woman's name off a bounty list. Or even talk to people he normally would never to. The Broken Goblet's bartender provides that. After all, I needs patrons to keep coming. Goblet coins is Goblet coins, why not go the distance.



Many of days and nights like these when the tavern is busy, I enjoy watching the patrons in their conversations, their personalities. Tis often so colorful. Sometimes when the bar is slow and hardly any patrons remain, I can still laugh and smirk recanting the days events or even incidents. I find them quite amusing. Even the songs. Songs with true tales, songs with meaning. Aye, I've done plenty for the Goblet. Even been rewarded, if a reward is what I dare call it. How long can I keep this going? How long can I still pull in patrons after patrons? I really don't have such the answer. But I know this, I will not leave the Shore until I am satisfied with my work. I do wish to see the Shore' spilling with life. Perhaps I'll do just that, and then repeat the cycle else where. Just to see...see what else I could resurrect. Hmph, tis funny..the bloody place use to be very empty.



Hell's, we even have a four legged patron now. And Gnoll's Bane was its name. Loyal to it's master, comfortable to the patrons. Even seems to take a liking to the his she devil friend.






'My heart is bro-ken in three!
I have three loves secretly.
"A blonde! A brunette! A redhead I could wed!
Oh, which one is it to be?
Oh, gee! My heart is broken in three!
I had my fortune told.
I saw my life unfold.
The gypsy said, You have three loves!
All yours, you have and to hold!"

*Scoffs* With rumors of Undead being unchecked , the Cloakwoods with its never ending troubles from Giant spiders to infernal undead. To the strange Demons like angle in the Neshkal mines , to the devil spawns south of Baldurs and the witness of Grey dwraves taking slaves someplace south of the peaks and a missing cargo ship that seemed to vanish out of nowhere. Tis an amazement the Guardian is still able to make a song filled with jests during such time. Hell's, not even the bloody Gods have fixed their own piking mess yet.

*Silent thoughts kept the bartender thinking about the note he had passed earlier in the tavern. He couldn't help but wonder what sort of outcome that note will lead too. One things for certain, either a quick resolved will happen and he gets a new patron. Or...one nasty bloody mess will soon come. And until then, the Shore will continue as always. For the most notable feeling in the Shore, is what which the one moon elf said the other night.*

"It's the freedom the folks around here enjoy."



"Did you get everything you need?"

"We're going to be meeting here soon to figure the mess out."

[selhan]

A Bartender drunk, at another bar..



Nobles are often classy. People whom have gained rank in society, some where even born with rank. What separates them from the other common folks. Wealth? Mannerism? Status in society's hierarchy?



The bartender of the Broken Goblet likes entertaining his patrons. Most that know him well seems to understand that he even tends to have a flirting habit. Yet hesitates. Is it for the show? Or does he simply enjoy trying to flutter the hearts of women? Or is he afraid of commitments?



"Too revealing maybe? A bit too much ..abs?"

"I was enjoying being the only male present, Sel. You half ruined it."

"Sorry my green friend, Im on a quest for a mate" *Winks* "You know , fortune teller stuff."

"Someone's jealous, Sel....." *Teases*

"Jealous? What ever for? " *He gestures to Netanya* "I get to have the Matron of the House..if I can live a thousand years." *winks*

In the beautiful grand place of House Divine, the patrons and even the Matron of the House have witness the bartender drunk. The face of nobles expressed disappointment and or shock. Some however...stared with interest. He's never drank something like that. What ever it was, it was surely strong. But he was edged on to keep drinking, and such edging came with a pretty smile. He simply couldn't resist.

"Finish it! Drink it! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

"Fine then!"

*Moments later*

"Oh now thats the sound Rosey...ma s-soong..."

"Be weary Lady Netanya...one way or another ..a thousand years may come and go and I might still remain" *He rapidly raises his brow twice along with a devious grin*

"Oh yes Madam Farmer I have some terrible news for you"

"Really?"

"Yes you recall how you were my favorite client?"

"Who beat me?!"

*Gestures to Sel*

"HUZZAH!"

"What did you serve him?"

"Uh, you know, the special kiss of winter.."

"How many Kisses did he have?"



Later , somewhere in the dark of the night in a place known as the Docks. A drunken man walked the streets nearly naked. More than likely dock workers would simply think the man was mugged, after all it was the Gates Harbor where the more shady sorts dwell and walking alone in the night was never a wise thing to do. However lucky for him, a frequent and long time patron of the Broken Goblet found him in his drunken state.

"Seriously? what has gotten into you?"

"Eh? *Hiccups* ''Who dat? Netanya? Ha! I knew you would chase me."

"Look at that over there!" *She points ahead of herself*

"Oh ..whats this .. a Mirella..?"

*She points again past him*

*He turned around to see what she was pointing at*

"The guards came to fin- *She swings the backside of her axe against the base of his skull to knock him out*

*Much later , a woman would had entered House Divine with a half naked man on her back being dragged in.*

"Ig-a-nore the bruise at the base of his neck. He was in a pretty wild mood and I'm certain he wasn't going to come willingly."

" Welcome to the Goblet, whats yer pois...hmm...... ZZZZZZzzzzz"

"But, uh, we'll need a bath."

"Oh my...pretty..is it time for a bath?...This what we do to a drunken sailor...ZZZzzzz"

"W-what a lovely ..bath...and I have women ..Dont remember the bath in the Goblet this big..."

Two other's quickly assisted the man with the help of a guard. Moments later , the sounds of a man leaping out of a cold bath all the while shivering was in shock and confusion. Once realizing just where he was at, he quickly advise to leave before the Matron of House finds him in such the state and in her bath tub!

"Where am I? Oi!, Rosey where the bloody hells am I?!!" *He glances at Mathilde then tries to cover his body with his hands*

"You are at the Everwinter Estate."

"OH Netanya gonna be pissed! " *He quickly leaped out the water* "And THAT water is bloody cold!"



Later, the bartender of the Broken Goblet makes plan to properly apologies to the Matron of House Divine. In his mind he would be thinking...



"Hope she don't find out I was in her bath..."

Part I

[selhan]

Hiding Faces



“One of the greatest regrets in life is being what others would want you to be,
rather than being yourself.”



Today a patron revealed her true self. Apparently the woman was in need of a disguise simply to come to the tavern known as the Broken Goblet. But why the ruse if they committed no violation to the tavern nor the Shore and its High Captains. Then again why do I question it. After all, this was the Shore'. And the Broken Goblet serves drinks regularly to patrons with other names, and hidden faces and masks. The freedom in Roaringshore gives just that. The bartender would look around the tavern and see the many faces of pirates, smugglers, thieves, and runaways and perhaps even murderers. Each one living for their own cause. Each one hiding something about them. Secrets , identities. deeds and or accomplishments. Some are even regretful of their past lives, some...



"...did you really ..steal that...And if so ..how did you manage such a feat?"

"Apparently, I did, yes. The story isn't terribly exciting really."

"I would like to hear such the tale someday when its not too ..busy here"

"...it may be a tale told eventually."



The one problem when wearing a disguise is that, after a long while you tend to forget who you really are. People hide who they truly are for reasons such as protecting themselves, or even protecting others. But worn too long and they can get emotionally grafted. And people become lost with whom they are or what they once was.



There even comes a time one nearly forgets their own name, or even feel trapped within themselves. Struggling to become clear of whom they really are, clinging to the person they thought he or she should be! I had a belief that a person is not whom they think they are., but rather they are what they hide. The feeling is almost like your trapped in a prison, bound and chain by the very thing you created. You may had once thought it a good ideal but now with mixed emotions, your lost in confusion. Frustration builds, anxiety escalates, the only thing you start to really feel, is the need to break free..



Hiding simply sucks. Some people think it an advantage. The bartender of the Broken Goblet would tell you...

“You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you. And when they do, best know who you are by then.”



The day was interesting, and embracing. However the bartender couldn't help but think of the rumors that came within earshot when he was heading to House Divine. Workers spoke of a Halfing village called the Black Oaks near Cormyr. Cormyr, also known as the Forest Country and the Land of the Purple Dragon, was an independent nation in interior Faerûn. It was historically one of the most prosperous countries of Faerûn. Apparently the entire Halfling village was wiped out. Inhabitants suspected to be murdered. Talks are talks , rumors are rumors but like many things passed down from the word of mouth, rumors can lose some details. Does the attack of Black Oaks related to the attack of Gullykin by devils? Who knows. That is what adventurers are for.

[selhan]

Rumor's...





Company of the Scorpions, that was the name spoke about the ones responsible for the massacre of a Halfling Village near Cormyr. Why the little folk? Do they really pose that much of a threat to anyone other then the shady few? Halflings more than likely be more concerned with their bakery's an foods.



Rumors of such spread down the Trade Way. The Broken Goblet bartender sought out to question more if not merely to spread the rumor of such an unfortunate thing. People die, its inevitable but a whole village? Now that doesn't quite sit well. The good thing about walking to a tavern, is that the word that comes from the roads are often shared. Not always but most the times. A surprised question however troubled the bartender, It has been many a tendays that, such question was ever asked. Or even talked about. As well as hearing a dire requests amongst friends. Heart warming that it is, to care for others. And even worry of their lovers hearts. It never seems to stop, one moment you would hear the words of losing faith and beliefs, only to turn around and hear another voice speak of hopes. The bartender of the Broken Goblet will say one thing,

"With the way the world is now with the Gods problems? Its not a good time to be dyin"

[nale]

Rough water crashed into the jetty sticking out of the sea all the way from the beach of Roaringshore.

Water flowed over leather boots of a dark figure whom had just hopped off a small sloop. “Desharik’s nuts,” She muttered.

“We’ll be out of here again, lassie.” The crew men said behind her. “Before this bloody storm propels us on the roof of the Goblet.”

She looked over her shoulder at the men. “Or maybe today is the day the Bitch Queen finally takes you down with her.”

The largest of the three males spit in her direction. “Bloody woman, tryin’ to curse us now, are ye. Good luck on finding yourself that crew.”

“Aye, and I’m glad I didn’t pick ya lot. You lads sail like you be on a focking birthday cruise.”

Teeth were bared in a crooked grin, eyes gleaming with all the life a sailor could boast before the man tapped the side of his tricorn and motioned the others to return to the ship.

She turned around without a further word, lifting her skirt from the mud as she began to ascend the slope. Under the severe weather some of the wagon trails had turned into little rivers, beneath the rushing surface hiding tricky waterslides.

How long ago has it been now? A year? Here and there she noticed some minor changes, but all in all the cove hadn’t changed much.

And neither had the Goblet. She muttered as she sensed upon entering how her protective blanket of magic got twisted. She knew better though than recasting her discrete wardings. Besides, it would make her look weak, and some would freely assume she was merely a poor scrapper.

The effect of chronical tobacco use wafted and curled about her as she made her way towards a stool at the far corner of the notorious establishment, right near the bar and a perfect spot to oversee the taproom.

She already could tell a couple of meetings were going on as some doors leading to seperate quarters were closed and guarded. Good, perhaps she had timed her arrival well.

Not long after she got to her second drink, one of the doors was opened and three or four people came out. She briefly glanced over her shoulder at them, yet long enough to discern any special features. One of them was a tiefling for sure. And, he came in her direction. Had a bloody dog with him.

“A new face'n the goble' or a regula' I nae met yet?”

She glanced over a bit oddly. “What in the name of the three Great Seas do you mean? Maybe you're the new face here.”

He raised a brow softly and smirked. “Maybe'n tha' be true.”

“Hah, indeed I think it be true. I stop by here at least once or twice a year in the past…,” She scratched her chin, then lifted a shoulder.

“So'n it seem I be the regular an' yoursel' the irregular.. wha' be yer name lass?”

“Bonnie, Skipper of the Drowned,” She paused briefly as she observed him and then flashed a grin. “Most run away by now.”

But the man seemed unbothered, observing her back a moment. “Bonnie ey.. Skipper o' the Drowned. Pleasure ta' meet yeh. Mos' nae foolishly intrigued to folks mention o' the drowned than I be..”

“And who are you, or whom do you think you are that you call yourself now a regular visitor of this... region?”

He chuckled softly, “Breathed from the lips o' someone who'n visit once or twice a year.” Then he grinned, “Red.. Jus' Red.”

[selhan]

Broken Goblets..





The bartender walked in the drinking area and approached the bar with brown eyes glancing around seeing the few faces of patrons. He nods to the normal crews of the Shore that nearly lived in the Goblet. He smiles and grins to the ones he's interreacted with many of times. However there was a face that made him rise a brow. Someone he's met recently, someone who gave him a very strong mixture of a cocktail that was put together randomly. Her intent was only mischievous, she meant no true harm. However the results where embracing if not shocking.

"Sel, Mathilde is here for you to get her drunk enough to strip and dance. A payback."

"Good idea..be right back"

It is said, never bite the hand that feeds you, for your too respect your caretaker. The bartender of the Broken Goblet would often say.."Be nice to your bartender, cause yer never know what they might put in yer drink"



"Drink!, Drink!, Drink!, Drink!"

And another one of what they call "a Goblet moment" came.......



It wasn't long before the woman was under heavy influence, and the bartender along with the other patrons..did what they were known for. Carousing!



Boots stomped to the music between folks playing their lutes, ale in cheering hands splashed and cheered. Pirates and crews whistled and laugh all the while the drinking continued.!

The fun took off at full force , even the Archdruid the Guardian of the Cloakwoods was pushed on . Would he strip to his loincloth? Nay, for only in the presence of mate would he dare too. But that didn't stop the mushroom from reaching his head. Nor did it stop the image in the patrons heads. And that image was pink!



Just as the fun hit its prime the quake happened....



The tavern shook, drunks too drunk could barely brace themselves. A dancing woman on top of the table lost her balance, her bare foot from having kicked one off at the bartender earlier slipped and she fall crashing onto the floor. The bartender with his own dire problems quickly went for what he thought was the most of importance in the tavern....

"The Glass!"

"SAVE IT!"

The bartender sprinted for the bar running pass the Archdruid trying to prevent the goblets from falling..



He wasn't fast enough...

The goblets made of blown glass that rests upon stems of gold with designs of a bellowing dragon or a Krakan sinking a ship. Some even had a more bawdy designs like a mermaid entwined with a sailor. When the shattering of goblets were heard..nearly everyone in the tavern thought one thing..."Miss Jackie is going to be pissed".

While cleaning up the pieces of broken goblets...patrons might have seen the worried look on his face. The bartender tried to look at Captain Pike for some bit of comfort. However Pike himself might have been shakin in his own boots. Some patrons in the goblet has once even heard Captain Pike say in regards to Miss Jackie.. "Be very afraid"

At least later that morning, a woman was oblivious to the worry for she was far too drunk..

[selhan]

Trials and Redemption



"The crimes of the accused are many that stretch across countless tombs. The names of the lives this man have costed Baldurian's and alike are many, as I am certain you need no explanation."

*The sound of a single gold coin flipped in the air breaks the still silence in the courtroom after Magistrate Kyemore spoke those words. Attendance in the court room with perked ears awaits the next following words.*

"You brought us Amos upon his free will providing him for sentencing.. The court is willing to part with him after justice is extracted with condition. Amos Thistle will relinquish the Blackrose name, provide any and all information to the Zhentarim available that may influence the war efforts."

*Many eyes blinked within the courtroom. Some with raises brows, some in disbelief, others were not even suprised.*

"Secondly. He will be given to those of the Radiant Heart so they may extract his penance. Under this condition.........."



*Another earthquake disrupted the trial shaking the standing guards that were heavily armed along with the attendants filled with nobles and the common folks. Some gasped, some cursed but the Magistrate demanded order in what would be his domain*

"SILENCE! ...ORDER!"

"Secondly.. He will be given to the Radiant Heart to extract his penance under the condition to those who spoke for him today. Should you as the Radiant Heart fail, you will share in his failure."

"Allow me to be clear. If Amos is to escape the gallows today, and should make the city regret said decision.. You will be held responsible for his failure."

"I asked to bring him in to be tried, because I see the opportunity within him. I will take the responsibility. I would ask that it be my responsibility. Not the Order or others."

"Then you personally, Lord Aaron. You would stake, name, creed, and title for the accused today?"

*Another noble shot up to his feet to voice out his concern, regardless if he was given permission to speak or not*.

"My lord, I urge you to reconsider. You once told me yourself that the accused cannot be trusted. You would be leaving your fate in the hands of this Zhentarim collaborator."

*Ocean blues eyes look at the accused once more a moment, then back forward*

*An iridescent rainbow colored gem with shifting hues like liquid, rolled in between fingers. The owner of the rare stone started to make his leave, for he already assumed what the response would be. But he was wrong. The next words spoke soon after held enough weight that even the departing man stop to spin on the heel of his boots.*

"I will hold myself responsible. His failings will become mine."

What was this? Taking ownership and responsibility of a treasonous criminal? Did ears hear this wrong? Such a risk could be rated stupidity. Unless there might be something else at play. Or was it that the noble paladin truly believe in redemption? The bartender made his leave while shaking his head in disbelief. Had that been anyone else in that trial, any commoner, any other noble, any other person, a petty thief, a smuggler, even someone who kicked a cat , their heads would be removed from their shoulders. It anyone was to ask the Bartender of the Broken Goblet of his opinion about the trial he would tell you...

"If they think that if the situation was reversed they get a chance at redemption they bloody out their minds. All I can say is, there a lot of folks in the north and the south pretty darn pissed. Hate to see what's coming"



If the situation was revered indeed...

[selhan]

A Shore' Way of Understanding

“There comes a time in a man's life
when he hears the call of the sea."

Some people wonder what it takes to be a pirate or join an able crew with a ship. What ever it takes, surely a person needs to be made of stern stuff when it comes to a crew in Roaringshore. The men and woman here don't wake up to find themselves surrounded by food and luxuries. They wake up with the one instinct there is. Survival.



Raiding and plundering is the way of occupation for a pirate. They have to supply the crew and ships for endless days to attack and rob ships at sea just to fill their bellies and feed the ones they care about at their homes. More often than naught they are hungry, instincts of survival takes over. They become harden, stern, snappy and often times have little patience. Only will filled bellies and a good drink and a pretty lass on their laps are they more then open for carouse and jokes. But when the mood is not right, misunderstanding is easy to take place. Other times, some patrons just ain't paying attention to the type of tavern they walked in too.



"Like the amulet?"

"I'm debating whether to strangle you with it or hang you from it."

"Why exactly?"

"No particular reason."

"Welcome to Roarin Shore."

"Reminds me why I don't come here often"

"Furniture....Already got a lot of broken glass I need to answer for. Just make sure its in the pit or outside hmm?"

"We'll just use him as a stool if one happens to break, eh ?"

"If yer git easily offended.." *Winks* "Prolly not the place for ya"

"You don't belong here, altar boy. Go say a prayer for your dead god, braid your hair or whatever it is you do."

"Right, nice place, but well, given yer servin milk to children who wanna be whiney I am here, I will take my leave."

"Run along, corpse worshipper. Don't come back."



"A lot of people are daft. Hear? I wan' them tha' can work under pressure. Not a parrot."

"He was a good parrot, sir."

"Are you a parrot?"

"I like action Captain. Not lookin ta be bored. So bring on the pressure, aye? Na not a parrot."

"Appraisal?"

"Looks like a beast of burden. Hoping his muscles won't waste on the ship. Furthermore, he must eat and drink for three. That's something to take into consideration."

"Mhm, a whole lotta arse to feed. Quartermaster hit that on the money there."

"Have y' become a captain?"

"Aint no captain, aint pretend to be either. I know who I am and what I am. That be for sure."

"I respect yer status Captain. Just dont be fer getting this aint the Seawolf either. This the Goblet."

"I kill men. Not f' gold. Not f' fame. I jus; do. I like you, tender. I like your boy."

"My boy taking a likeing to yer crew. Better then standing around simply guarding."

Patrons would whisper the tale of the Captain and a bartender meeting eye to eye both with a murderous expression. Both harden men, each with their own styles and beliefs and upbringings. But such knowledge of whom and how many they had to run through with a blade is nothing to be spoken openly about. A man does what they need to do when they need to do it. Sometimes misunderstandings can take fruit. In the most place's, men gets sized for how loud they scream or boast with deeds and claims of accomplishments. In the Shore, it's always about the look in a mans eye. The bartender in the Broken Goblet would tell you...

"If you really want to know what a man is about, you look into their eyes. Not deeds, not bloody titles or what ever stone plaque say's about them. The eye's can tell yer everything you be needin to know."

[selhan]

Pranks



There once was a woman from the Black Abby, who claimed to be a tarot reader. She read the bartenders cards and it was shown that he would one day have a child with red hair. That very day most of the patrons within the Broken Goblet had laughed and teased the bartender. All eyes would look around for anyone red of hair. The minstrel that often performs in the Goblet was everyone's first suspect. Was the Tarot readers words true? No one really knew. But the bartender had been very cautions with what female he met, avoiding any that were red of hair.



One patron for what ever strange mood they were in, had decided to come to the tavern with a wig of red hair. The horrid expression on the bartender was exactly what the patrons wanted to see. Everybody laughed and roasted the bartender that night. He was the only one person who did not think it was funny. Was he starting to believe in the fortune tellers cards?

One thing was for certain. HIs ever observing eyes, was always weary of a day a red head would walk in the Broken Goblet. He did however make a personal vow to make his own destiny and prove that fortune teller wrong, as well as everybody else that teases him of it.

[Deragnost]

- Coincidences and Temptresses -

---

Yesterday...

Perhaps I should hope you will not be teasing Sel as well about his little prophecy that he'll get a red head pregnant?
I cannot get pregnant. . .
It does not mean you could not also tease him. I think perhaps that would send him into a spiral of
*the voice changes into that of Sel's.*
"No, nononononono. No. No. No. Sod off you cheeky..!"

I happen to think he's being tormented enough by the rest.

No, you're right, I think he's been teased enough because of those tarots.
I am pleased that someone agrees with me...
Even because, I mean, we do want to have something new to tease him with. Otherwise it becomes boring.

*Someone lets out an exasperated sigh.*

---

Today...

Rose awoke today with a clear goal in her mind. Avoiding the "redhead" topic, for indeed she had kinda enough. She did think it over about what the man had been through, all the laughters they shared, and yes: the bartender deserved a bit of respite at least for the day. She got out from the bed with a clear purpose in her mind, knowing, believing that this day would have been different. That this day, indeed, would have been perfect. And indeed, in a way, it actually would have become such: just not in the way she planned.

Normal day like any other, the sun shined above Roaringshore: the earthquakes were not as terrible as the last time. A sigh of relief came out of her chest, and perhaps a bit of sadness of what that meant: no magic for everyone. But it was either that, or risking having more people to suffer... like that event in Beregost.
She finished her bath, her make up, curling up her hair making sure they were perfect - she walked down and got out from the Swordarm Inn.

There she had a Chat with Karai, with Sel, but then something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. A tiefling, long tail, long horns, exotic dancer outfit, beautiful green eyes, masked, but especially... long, red hair!

Sel spotted her, dodged her and fled toward the Broken Goblet. The temptation was strong. "No no no, don't do it, Rose: you don't have to do it!" She kept saying this for a handful of seconds that lasted an eternity in her mind. Then she opened her mouth: she would have said hello, then she would have gone on her way to do her things. Playing. Tossing a stool out of the window. Anything was better than this. She coul---

Hey, do you know Sel?

"Crap." She thought.

---

What happened eventually in the Goblet became history, and it evolved exactly as one would have expected it. The tiefling was a former courtesan and now a witch of sort - which kind of made Rose's and the patrons' day. It will not be written into words, but one thing is for certain. The people that were there ended up rolling on the floor laughing - for it was just that amusing the exchange between the poor bartender and the former courtesan.

In all seriousness... Prophecies are tricky..... he's going to be so worried about redheaded women he's going to avoid them... only to find out the brunette he impregnates dyes her hair.

I hope you're not too angy. It was honestly in good fun and you are a good sport.

"Nay, just securing the bosses drinks"

Need a hand in that?

"I got his, just keep the patrons entertained"

Alright. It's been fun though. Lovely entertainment.

"Cheeky woman."

Rose wouldn't know what the bartender would tell you, but the hired minstrel of the Goblet would certainly say this was probably a very, very good day. Some good acting, some good entertainment, and a lot of people laughing until their stomachs hurt. In the end, even if this wasn't supposed to be the day she wanted, it turned out to be a very good one. All in all, she doesn't regret one bit to have not followed her original plans.

[selhan]

The Walks of a Bartender

Just as much as a patron needs to come into a tavern to get a good drink to dull their problems away, bartenders needs their breaks from behind the bar and stretch their legs. A bartender could stand all day behind the bar engaging in conversations, and jokes and sharing talks of rumors. Coin is coins, business is business. But they too need to go out to fresh air and have a walk. To not see the world around them is foolish, and unhealthy. Patrons may not often see the hidden scowls behind faces of a bartender. Bartenders often wear a mask themselves keeping up a good smile and engaging patrons to entertain them. Their ultimate goal however is to keep patrons coming to the bar. Some patrons bites down on their teeth trying to refrain from punching another drunk sometimes. For a bartender, their isn't a day that goes by that there be a patron they want to just choke the life out of. But they have a job to do, and they have to do with a smile. And when ever they can, they need to step out for a walk. Besides, one never knows what they might hear or run into out on the roads..

"You missed the trial of that Amos fella…"

"I would have missed it anyway, the Gate would have trialed me along with him if I had shown up."

"The Magistrate said he is to be in the care of that Aaron fella.."

"Since when did he believe in redemption…"

"If Amos screws up, he suffers the same.."

"What kind of horse shite is that…"

"Aye, I’ve seen men executed for less, even a man lost his arm for kickin a cat."

"What happen to Carah?"

"Nae aint sure, think some man tried to grab her or something, think Emmanuel put him on his arse."

"WH-WH-WH-WHO GRABBED HERRRRRRR?"

"...aint knowing I was passed out meself."

"I’ve been investigating and tracking the three strange Undead sightings…"

"Careful when passin through the Fields of Dead, the Fist where cowards.."

"Just help out when you over there if yer go there, ain’t want those things coming to the Shore’…"

"What’s wrong ain’t like undeads…"

"Ain’t like nuthin that don’t bleed, men bleed not those things..if they get close, better make sure all the Captains know.."

"Having a known threat dealt with would be nice."

"Probably wondering why I seemin all helpful"

"Have you had bad experiences with them in the past?"

"Aye long ago."

"So. . .we aren't the only ones then. . ."

"Theres, three kinds …of em…that I know of.."

"It's not about the ……. It's about the humility of losing it…"

"He got a good point there."

The face of worry is everywhere around us. Everyone worries about something, its a matter of ....can one see it. *A single coin flips into the nights air, the metallic sound of rings into the silence* Yet...some people merely pretends to act worried. When in truth everything was calculated, everything was to them completely under control. Even their smiles. In the pirate village of Roaringshore, many work under pressure. Its a way of life. A crew man had to be ready for anything and everything. A Captain has to be quick in making the right calls for he has a ship full of men he was responsible for. And they even had families waiting for their return. Some place, somewhere pressure resides in many, and tired souls still don't give up.

A woman who needed to run a tavern but yet is injured by some mishaps, has to fight through the pain and continuing working. A man who becomes a father tries to tend to his wife and child, but they see the world around them crumbling and the call to help drum's within their hearts. A lone man who feels they are walking with the burden of the world continues tryin to do what they believe if right, even if they seem to walk along. The woman would simply wants a peace of mind and the safety of her loved one, has to step into a world where every and anything would consider her an enemy, but its the only option she has left to end a long time threat. Everybody, everywhere, feels stress and pressure. They all just manage it differently. The bartender of the Broken Goblet would tell you...

"You can't run forever. Nor can you hide forever. In due time you gotta come to terms with things and handle it by any means necessary. Tis the only way to sleep good at night. Not even the strongest drink can be rid of problems, it just brings me more coins."