Some talks never end in a single sitting or even a day. Sometimes, it can last for a tenday or years. Not always are discussions are about current events, or the latest rumors. Sometimes their simply about the past, or history or wonders of the future. The night grew darker, the Goblet had its fair share of activity. But every tavern has a down time. The drink simmers within patrons bellies while sleep soon calls to comfort tired bodies as well as souls.
Things like morals, codes, loyalty and origins can be spoke of with a diminishing toxic effect from a good drink.
Minds drift to memories, or possible futures. Sometimes the discussion makes a person look within their own soul to find their own cause or to figure out the reason of their own existence. Even ones with origins of a race long pass that holds all existence with a respectful interest or a fiendish blood with a cheeky mind that would seek mischief anywhere.
It was moments like these the bartender enjoyed most. The calm after a storm, the deeper discussions, learning what was really in the hearts of patrons. Who where they really behind the bold mask they created to face the worlds harshness was always a interesting and intriguing wonder. Even though some conversations he couldn't understand was still an interesting sight to see. How long did it take some of the patrons to learn the language of other races wondering in his mind.
Although the thought felt time consuming to him, he was no scholar and was often far too lazy to do much. Unless he himself had a motivation. Only then, did he work his hardest at anything.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
Tieflings ..they were known for their cunning and personal allure, which made them excellent deceivers as well as inspiring leaders when prejudices were laid aside. Although their evil ancestors could be many generations removed, the taint lingered. Unlike half-fiends, tieflings were not predisposed to evil alignments and varied in alignment nearly as widely as full humans, though tieflings were certainly devious.
But what if a tiefling is unlike the common ones? Does morals and code outweigh the taint? Can a certain way of parenting change the lingering thing many worry about?
Humans ..,on Toril were widespread, could be found in most regions and, in general, were fierce and disagreeable, which could sometimes lead certain other races to view them with contempt. They were renowned for their diversity and ambition, and although they lacked specialization, they could excel in many areas.
Contempt..that's a fitting way to describe the outlook many has for a mere human. We breed like vermin yet we have probably the shortest life span compared to others. Yet all the while we fill cities and towns as the majority. Often in positions of political means. With so much opinions we are very disagreeable. Also we tend to strive to be nearly equal as any other race and often resort with unlimited means in doing so. Some times even mixing our own blood with the blood of other races.
Elves..commonly possessed strong but swiftly passing passions, being moved easily to laughter, anger, or misery and as quickly calmed. They were known for their impulsive behavior and, as a result, many races saw them as flighty or impetuous. However, elves were not as flaky as others might interpret them to be, and they were typically responsible despite their almost whimsical nature.
Many can complain about not being able to fully understand an elf. The common talks speak of how edgy or uppity they can be. Even grumpy and very rare are they trusting to anything other of their own race. But the silent jealousy could be seen in complaints. Elves are quit fascinating. They live long, and their culture can be mysterious. Their villages are a make of splendor, with craftmanship of elegant designs yet stern and powerful. It would be nice to live as long as them from a humans point of view. But to others, such a long life can often be a curse. Still, to be able to surprise an elf with a goblet of elverquisst was interesting. Everyone has their particular favorite drinks. The only difference here from other taverns is we serve it in a goblet.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
Comfort..a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint, or the easing or alleviation of a person's feelings of grief or distress. Comfort is often found in the strong arms of a man, or the soft bosom of a woman. Other times a listening ear was enough comfort or an engaging conversation with someone in agreeance. The Broken Goblet..where pirates and lawless folk come to brawl and carouse. How is it women can find such a place for a means for protection and comfort?
The night started like any other night accept the night the meteors came falling leaving their destructive effects upon the world of Toril. The Barkeeper walked up the stairs with his belongings of assorted bottles of liquor. It was right after he got behind the bar did he notice a face from the night before. The woman of features puzzling. She stood there with her lute, obviously she was there before he had arrived. Why? To what purpose and reasons? Comfort she later said. She felt safe here. Did she really? An intelligent woman with interests of portals in a tavern such as the Broken Goblet? Before he could really wrap his head around such a wonder, another familiar face, one who was a frequent visitor of pestering and mischief design. But what was this..she was in a dress..and held a basket...of food.
What was this? Feeding all the patrons? The Goblet never served food. Patrons were allowed to bring their own. But why would a woman bring enough to feed these lots? Pirates, thieves and smugglers and sometimes under dwellers with backgrounds full of sinful deeds of some form or another. Did she feel attached? In debt for her own carousing? Later she spoke of feeling safe and comfortable within the Goblet. Was it really? Comfort in here? Or was it because of other means or reasons? What ever it was, the drunken patrons didn't need to think twice before indulging in a hearty evening meal.
More travelers and regular visitors arrived much later. The sharing of jokes and laughs, stories and tales soon put the mood in a more somber state along with a drink of preference. Mage hunters, missing persons, The Tablets of Fate..the governing of Gods..the avatar of Gods, the death of a God. By the end of the night when the barkeeper packed up his belongings and asked Captain Pike to take over the bar, he came to a final conclusion...
"All that has been, is gone. All we have known, all we have believed, is a lie. The Time of the Gods is at an end."
Companions bound by duty or friendship, will venture out trying to solve and fix the crisis. Their resolve will be tested, they will either prevail, or they will fail..
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
The Bartender watched the woman setting down lavender and thyme near grates and corners of the tavern.
"You see that? She trying to make the place smell all pretty"
"Shush it"
*Blinks*
The other patron looks at the bartender, and scribbles a few words on paper since he was unable to speak properly due to the wards and the mishaps of the weave from Mystras death.
"Do I even want to know?"
The bartender wasn't able to respond right away. He was in disbelief watching the familiar patron going about with her exploits. He continued to watch her as she set down her basket and pulled out platers of salmon and went around feeding the patrons. What was she trying to do he wondered. She did something similar the night before, yet here she was again repeating her actions.
"OH great, she's trying to turn the place into a brothel" He said with sarcasm.
She points her spoon at him"I'm not turning this place into a brothel, I'm not trying to make it smell all pretty. I am just seeing the crewmen get a good meal and that the mice, rats and bugs stay out of the building."
"She's going to be the death of me.."
Mice? Rats? Bugs? The Broken Goblet brings in just that! the thought in his mind, yet wanting to scream out his words. Slugs even from since the silence of the Gods, and more than likely the filthiest of scums ever to walk to the roads or sea legged pirates with lice and fleas.
"Yer come in here, put ingredients all over the place, feed the boys salmon, dress all pretty with your teets nearly falling out, and put a basket on the bench next to your buddies over there. What am I suppose to think? You looking for a husband or sumthin?"
"Now you go back to flirting with the pretty girls that come in when they come here to play you music, or the wolf girl when she decides to return, play with her wolf so she is amused.. and know.....*She points her spoon warningly*"That I'm trying to make this place a little bit better."
Better? Such the tavern as the Broken Goblet, for what reason does it need to be better? Patrons come in regularly, he's gone around acquiring the popular of drinks to add to his stock. He engages in conversations if patrons want him too. Better? Lavender and Thyme...to be rid of mice and rats..he would prefer a spike trap if that was the case. Oddly he felt he was cursed, was it some trickery one of the gods thought humorous? Couldn't be, for the gods are walking around in avatars upon the moral world. Later before packing his belongings for the night, a smirk escaped his lips along with a curling lip while one single thought lingered..."The stew was good".
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
I just want to give out my thanks and appreciation for all the players that come over to the Broken Goblet for rp. It all gives me content to public post and show activity. I hope I am providing some entertainment along with it all. I do understand some characters can not come over to the Goblet due to their own rp reasons and that's totally fine. I have met a lot of interesting players and its been great. I also would like to encourage others to travel around and visit other establishments with awaiting players. There's quite a few out there that's really dedicated in trying to be available to the community and bring a sense of realism to the world of BG. A simple pit stop could lead to something immerse, information gained, rumors shared, or simply a moment to kill the boredom and or meet new faces.
Such places can be very helpful icly. My character, due to my time frame was unable to attend the moot over in Candlekeep for an example. However word gets out ic and gets shared and thus my character along with others were able to hear of it ic. I do my very best to try not to publicly post too much details because I try to help protect against metagaming. Also others notice I like to look for some concept art for patrons portraits in my posts. I do so for content and because its fun. I'm not an artist like some others so bare with me! If you have one you prefer me to use, simply send me the links via pm or discord and I will make the changes. There's been a few already that had asked me. Don't worry I wont feel offended. I simply try to find something fitting of their characters personality and try to find a close resemblance as I can and often times difficult to find. If you have one please send it, makes things easier for me lol.
Lastly, even I need to stretch my characters legs, so there will be times I am not present in the Goblet for Rp because I too need to go on loot runs to make coins lol. However I do make my runs short so that I could be available soon enough. With all that said, the game is meant to be played and to have fun.
So get to it and enjoy the Time of Troubles and Suffer.....
The Wrath of Gods!
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
13 Flamerule 1358 DR Time of Troubles "These are your people whether you will commit yourself to it or not. That place, you're the heartbeat of it."
5 Kythorn 1345 DR "This is the heartbeat that pumps life into everywhere else and we control it."
13 Flamerule 1358 DR Time of Troubles "The moment you cease to acknowledge your emotions, is the very moment you then become a tool. And that will lead you a life filled with regrets. And its far harder to return to such a thing called emotions."
1 Kythorn 1345 DR "I hate that you are not free!" "Enough of that. The choice was mine and mine alone. Leave it be." "I still hate it."
4 Kythorn 1345 DR The vision of a woman, badly beaten with tears and blood running down her face "Noooooo!! Don't! You will just be a tool! They will only use you!" The sound of bone cracking after a hard kick to the ribs caused a deafening scream...
"Who's it going to be boy? Will you choose her? Or will you choose me? Haven't I treated you like a mother?"
We must all suffer one of two things, the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. Life is about choices. Some we regret, some were are proud of. Some will haunt us forever. However in the end, we are what we chose to be. Sometimes life has a perverted way of reminding us of just that. He looked at the parchment, a drawing of mouse. He chuckled and rolled his eyes with a mirthful smile before turning his gaze to the small portion of seared steak. More than half of it was eaten. Obviously by someone who was too hungry to only leave an equal half of it. But a portion was nevertheless still left and offered. No longer with its warmth, he ate it, still charred on the outer side, and slightly bloody within. The meat was cold but it left a warmth in his belly. He folded the parchment and tucked it in his apron and made a mental note to store it away. Yes, life does make a mockery of our decisions. But in rare occasions, life offers a chance to try again to see if we learned from past mistakes and make a better choice.
Adventurers, A person who enjoys or seeks adventure. A person willing to take risks or use dishonest methods for personal gain.
Burden, a load, typically a heavy one.
The Bartender has seen all walks of life come and go within the Goblet. Many that he would like to see return again. Often wondering what roads they take, what paths lay before them, and what is it they leave in their wake. One adventurer after another, what was their purpose or did they even have one?. What burden befell upon their shoulders? Many stories will tell of adventurers saving a person, a town, a city or even the world that we live in. However also there were adventurers whos story was never told, nor did any bards made songs about. The unknown adventures who just as much performed deeds that allowed others to be able to wake up in the morning, to eat till their bellies are filled. The bartender knew that well, for even him had gone with adventurers risking all their lives simply to save the City of Baldur's or its surrounding lands. He's witness adventurers sacrifice themselves. But for what? Recognition? Titles? Rewards? Nay, they did so simply because. Their tales were never told, the horrors they have seen will forever be etched into memories. And no one would know of it other then themselves. Often times they come into a tavern to seek a drink, specially of their own preference, a lot of times something strong. The throat soother is what he calls it, but sometimes it was never enough. Today a familiar face came in, and the bartender was ready to get the man his preferred drink, one popular for the elves. But the elf requested something unexpected, he asked for water...
When a patron come into a tavern much like the Broken Goblet, a tavern filled with pirates, thieves, or smugglers and asks for water, it's something of a shock. It can leave a bartender with a dumbfound expression. Why, why simply water? Did the patron not trust the drink in stock? Did the patron think it too cheap or laced with poison? None was the case. The patron had the shoulders of a person carrying a heavy burden. The look of a tired soul. A subtle frown. Sometimes a person merely needs water. All living beings need it, for it is a necessity. Many of times we indulge in the delectable drink for the substance effect to make our minds too hazy to think of the heavy burdens we sometimes must carry. The "Drink of Forgets". However sometimes, the effect just isn't enough. But we must still go on, to continuing carrying such burdens but in order to do so, we need something to sustain us, something to quench our thirst comfortably. Those times, we simply need water..
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
"Ten days, ten nights, it has rained."Said the mysterious long dark haired woman, whos been tolerating her many drinks like a norther barbarian.
"If I was to tell you of the recent news, I be writing all night."Said the mysterious masked hissing man.
"I've already had my two drinks of the day." Said the mischievous tiefling lounging comfortably on a nearby bench next to two pirates.
It's seems as if the recent troubled times, are becoming a normal thing. More each day it seems patrons are returning to conversating about their regular normal lives. The talks of treasures, training, philosophies, and business. Aye it's never surprising that things tends to dry out lose its tastes like stale bread. Stale bread, the words reminded him of a recent visit to the tavern known as the Lucky Coin. He had enjoyed a delicious meal there."What is the value of stale bread to your profession?" Any food within the Goblet was not provided by his services nor the service of the Goblet. They were merely left overs from patrons that cared too bring them. The cook had a point, it would do well to be able to provide some sort of snacks for the patrons to help them keep indulging in their drinks. But such ideals would have to go to the Boss, for the bartender only worked there. He was not the owner. He couldn't make changes for the better or the worse. The Boss..her whereabouts was still unknown. Where was the "Miss" he wondered. Rain..ten..days..ten..nights...how much longer would it be, till the realms would be fixed. Would he meet a God in an avatar form? What would be the conversation he wondered. Would it even be his god of choosing? Such thoughts soon dismissed. Talks of conflicting emotions continued, such a conversation worth listening too. The other patrons drunk and caroused yelling to the bartender for minstrels. Aye he will have to soon send word for them to give the drunken bastards some entertainment. However he's down a minstrel. He will have to go seeking for one. But not just any, they would have to be quite fitting nor have a feint heart. His mind however, went back to the steak..bloody hell it was delicious.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
What was it about the weeks end, when patrons would come like a flock of crows. A break from venturing, did the body need to rest after lengthy travels? The bartender woke up late, a much needed rest from being up the previous night. When he entered the drinking area there were patrons already at the waiting. He couldn't help to notice how Captain Pike had his sword removed from its sheath. But he seemed calmed from what ever might had pissed him off and besides, he had goblets to fill, and his minstrel had songs to sing!!!
"There once was a ship..
that put to sea..
the name of the ship..
was the Billy of Tea.."
"Find me, still searching...
For someone, to lead me...
Can you, guide me...
To the revolt, inside me?
Promise surviving...
The War...
Promise surviving.. The War in the North..."
"What will we do with a drunken sailor..?
What will we do with a drunken sailor..?
What will we do with a drunken sailor..?
Early in the morning!..""
The night went on, while the minstrel played a variety of songs, either to sooth the hearts or make boots and fists pound in sync with the beats. She creating tunes all the while showing her ability and skills in her performance never yielding. Barmaids stopped in awe, other women straddle the laps of men, patrons of all size drinking from a goblets except the Orc who the bartender felt needed a whole casks. Carouse and jokes filled the air the talks of virginity was even a topic!. A moody husband, a dark comforting wife who would had guess random patrons had talents of witty skills. A prank, a mockery or was it sweet revenge crafted in a clever form and molded into a song to embarrass her husband of when he lost his virginity? Whatever the intent was, the other patrons wanted the performance! And getting what they wanted came soon enough as another song flowed from the lips of another, and echo'd forth within the Broken Goblet while grinning lips kissed goblets to drink the delectable throat soothers all the while watching the married couple.
"Puppet on a string..
Can't control myself with you..
I crawl out of my skin..
Things I show no one else but you.."
Drinking games were a thing. Only few conduct them. One patron , a mysterious woman had often shown the bartender she could hold her drink. However seeing the mountain size orc was enticing to her. A challenge she wanted, a drinking game she taught. Eagerness to prove she could handle her own. The Orc blood already drinking more then the entire population of the tavern indulged in the game. Whether or not he enjoyed it or considered annoying it was hard to tell with the gruffy look of a beast. But play they both did and in the end both still continued to stand.
Some patrons soon took their leave for one reason or another, but just like how a goblet soon becomes empty of its liquid, it gets refilled. Some familiar faces he remembered, however some new he hadn't recalled. "What was this?" he bartender eye the new arriving woman who looked strong and wore the furs of a bear. A woman who could beat a bear and wear its coat was surely no ordinary woman. Her crimson hair did little to mask the stern expression of a warrior born and bred. Her arms and legs rippled with thick muscles. In his mind he worried for what ever drunken man might find himself in an Inn with her, for surely she would be the dominating one.
It soon dawned on him the many patrons tonight came from both the north and the south. What was the Goblet becoming? A central Hub? A place to share rumors and words and events from either side? It was ideal, often times patrons didn't have to really travel too far. Talks of Amn and the hunt for Cowlies and mages were the serious talks within the Broken Goblet. Some mages worried, others cared not. Only the near coming days would show what happens. Mercenaries will soon find good work he thought. However he himself will more than likely remain here behind the bar serving drinks and passing news upon the roads if patrons asked. After all he was the bartender.
The night continued, a few more songs until the minstrel nearly sang herself to sleep standing. Patrons left to piss or find a place to sleep entirely, only a few remained. The bartender had a keen enough eye for a human, so that even the man off in the distance in the corner of the Goblet never went unnoticed. A brooding pirate? A sulking hero? Or a tired man? He's met him once before, but he didn't wave the man over to the bar. The bartender knew, when someone wanted a bit of privacy, tis best to leave a person to their privacy. He only approached to drop off the first free Goblet of the evening. Not uttering a word, only offering a simple nod. Everybody has their thoughts, we all have our troubles. And we all need a good drink, but in here, they like it in a Goblet.
One lingering thought still remained, the gods still walk upon us, some are silent, some may be calling....
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
One thing about a tavern like the Broken Goblet, is that in the late of the night when patrons who come when most of the world sleeps, often have all the rumors of the day. Or they have heard nothing at all and wish to be informed. The night shrouds everything it reaches, dim candlelight's illuminates the interior. Drunkards snoring under tables, on top of tables or slumped in their seats. The sober ones whos still savoring their drinks, share stories, talks, and rumors. Most people would call this the "down time". However the bartender of the Goblet saw just the opposite. It was during these hours into the night, that the words from lips, are the most tender and flavorful ones. Amn's declaration, Cowlies, treaties, trades and rumors of men and women of the Coast. It was these subtle times, the tavern grew quiet and he was able to find a seat and lay back with his eyes close. Yes it was these moments, that's where always the sweetest of words tend to spill forth.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
All day and all night, the patrons kept coming. One after the other or sometimes in pairs! Requests for drinks, requests for music, requests for the rumors the Goblet stayed filled. Not just the elegant object that held the delectable throat soother, but the tavern it self! God's it had never felt so much alive! Indeed this had to be one if not the most busy of days within the Broken Goblet. His partner had returned to the Coast, a helping hand indeed. But two pairs of hands were not enough! Trying to keep track of the conversation was a stressing task but he did his best, trying to keep up, trying to return questions, answers or merely conversations all the while refilling goblets. New faces, familiar faces, they kept pouring in like the liquid content of a bottle! No bruiser but he had guards, and patrons who seem to take a close liking to the tavern enough to render out any unwanted patrons or simply cut their throats entirely. Hours upon hours, the time was not noticed, the goblets had to be filled. He might have been slow once or thrice but he wouldn't give up. The laughs, the glares, clouded the tavern like a raining cloud.
"Welcome to The Broken Goblet!""Hey big boy!""So I'll get you some music then!""You're an arse, Sel!"
"I don't envy the simp that has to clean the latrine.." "Got stuck, the little boy's room was never meant for him..."
"We're not mindreaders..!" "If it goes over your horned head, then don't complain about not getting laid.."
"There's not much to read in men's minds.."
I wish Ash was here right now. She might convince Solaris to try one of the big girl drinks." "Why. You miss me."
"So you're the one that supposed to out-drink me Pale Lady?!" "Oh yes, from time to time I do so enjoy one"
"I don't let my men suffer" "I like em bendy" "Give me something stronger"
"I saw his arse when he was pissin" "Oo'p gamgoots (do-me) paetgoota paootm ma nnooaklee"
"I've meet so much more people simply working here" "I still am dandy on the eyes my dear tiefling."
"The Goblet had nearly a full day of good minstrels like Rose and some other fella. Then by the end of the of night, here you come in all dashing but its like going from Wine to water if yer git my meaning.."
After the last lively patron left he needed to go down to the washroom, his hands sore from working behind the bar. He felt he was sweaty and started to remove his work clothing to bathe. A deep breath, a sigh, a smile. He lifted a goblet filled with spiced wine. Indeed he himself finally needed a drink for himself. Something he hasn't manage to do in sometime. After a sip he realized he had poured himself the stronger version, something he tucked away for his personal use. But he remembered he brought it out because there was a new face who handled her drink with ease, a face that not only looked cold, but physically was cold. So cold in fact, her very breath frosted the lip of the glass on the goblet. Interesting person he thought remembering her words of reminiscing of days long past. Well hope the returning woman takes a liking to the Broken Goblet and adds to the many list of frequent patrons.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
"What I thought, little eel..I'm going to enjoy crushing your bones.."
A minstrel played an ominous tune nearly in sync with what was to soon come, as if on que to the strung lute the towering orc strides up behind the little man and grabbed the back of his collar lifted him up to drag him down to the pit. The man caught off guard only let out a yelp and was carried down below without so much of a fuss.
Half-orcs were humanoids born of both human and orc ancestry by a multitude of means. Having the combined physical power of their orcish ancestors with the agility of their human ones, half-orcs were formidable individuals. But what's worse then facing down a Half Orc? The bartender of the Broken Goblet would tell you, he would say "One that was two casks drunk with jealousy in his veins."
Down in the fighting pit of the Broken Goblet where confrontations become physical, the bartender ensures, no furniture is to be broken, the opposite would be said for bones."What's the rake for?"An elf from the side asked the bartender. "In case it gets messy" The bartender replied charmingly to the unfamiliar elf.
The other woman who was the reason for the coming encounter, tried to come in-between the little pretty faced man in a defensive stance and the hulking orc blood that was reeking of alcohol. She seem to have thought she could prevent the raging half blood from the physical confrontation.She was wrong..
She cants her head"Going to hit a woman, Volstagg?"
In a low gruttle tone with determination he took a few steps"Yes."
The Half Orc suddenly threw a hard right punch and landed it on the pretty boys face. The woman with reflexive instincts tumbled out of the way, she looked both ways at the end of her tumble,"What the hell is wrong with you two?!"No words responded, only a return fist from the man hitting the orc square in the chest, but the hit was unfelt, the orc showed no reactions to the punch for he was already in a state of a boiling rage, instead lifted both hands in the air high above his head and together with clasp fist, brought down the crushing blow and sent the man flopping on his back wheezing and coughing blood. The bartender only made sure the man wasn't dead. Surely such the reasons for the confrontation didn't warrant it. He started sweeping the spilled blood however into the grate as if nothing ever happened. Such was the way of the Goblet.
"Ash dear, do help him get cleaned up will you hmm, I got goblets to fill." Indeed the bartender had work to do, and filling goblets were just that. The night continued on as any other night. Save for the strange man that approached the bar and gave words about how there was a delay of the denial of the great wall. The great wall had another term, some knew it as the Wall of the Faithless.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
Umberlee,.. also known as the Bitch Queen. The evil sea goddess most often worshiped by sailors or people traveling by sea, out of fear of her destructive powers. She was known as a particularly malicious, petty, greedy, and vain deity who controlled the harshness of the sea while reveling in her own power and was not hesitant to drown people if she so pleased.
"In my experience, sea travel has always been hazardous. It could be I have offended Umberlee in some way. She is such a temperamental - er - I mean, magnificent goddess of the vast ocean!"
— Volothamp Geddarm
Even when the Gods do not answer the calls and prayer from those who worship them, they are still those whom continue to be devout and loyal regardless.
Loyalty...now that is such a word that could be the most beautiful thing to a persons ears. It must be true, it must be real and solid like adamantium, or its useless and disregarded like waste. Many times the bartender has heard mention of ones loyalty in his lifetime, only to be later disappointed. But nothing in the world is more pleasurable then unconditional loyalty. The bonds of love between couples or brotherhood, tribesmen, clans, or their fellow man at arms. Nothing is more pleasing than to know the person behind you would be even willing to die for you. Aye nothing is quite comforting. Although just as much as loyalty is blissful, disloyalty can be equally destructing, enough bring a grown man or woman to their knees from the very act of betrayal. They say one never seen a man cry until they see a man die. Some will claim, they seen men cry from the act of betrayal as well. Even woman become scorned and grow very bitter from it, throwing away any hint of sensitivity within their souls. What then is one to do? Bask in the comfort and pleasures of loyalty and risk the utter destruction of their very making? There will come a time where everyone no matter whom they are, will reach a moment in life where a betrayal will happen to them. "Learn from your mistakes and don't repeat it" some people say. "Don't trust anyone other then yourself" others tend to say. In the bartenders eyes there's no escaping such a moment. It will happen to everyone. However, It's what you do after that will make or break a person, not the betrayal in itself.
No matter how honorable their views are,
No matter what excuse they make for themselves,
No matter how devoted they think they are,
No matter how knowledgeable they seem to be,
No matter how much they run,
No mater how they take the world as fun,
No matter how innocently they were born,
Betrayal will come.
He reached in his saddle bag and pulled out an old dagger. He no longer uses it like he did many years ago. Once upon a time it was his most prized possession. It carried many stories. He remembered how he was so fond of it and how it came to his possession. However after some time and many use of it, he had put it away and regarded it as a tainted item or something cursed. Betrayal was something sickening to him, not in the act itself. It was the memory it always brought back. He examined the dagger closely, no longer stained of blood. But that never made him forget the last time he used it...
Sometime after Midsummer Eleasis 1345 DR
"You were a brother to me!.."
"Until you joined them and tried to kill me!..And for what?!..Power and glory!"
"It was a calling!..."
Tears streamed from redden eyes glaring of anger far beyond anything he's experienced before. "Well then, seems like you answered the wrong call..."
"No!..Please!.."
"Don't beg, it only makes things more pitiful.."
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
What should a person do if they saw a wolf standing and waiting outside their door?
How would others look at it? A threat? Seeking shelter perhaps? Hungry? If the latter was true then the person surely might be in a bad position. The bartender of the Broken Goblet did the one thing he always seem to do since working there. Offer a goblet. It was not his business to know the reasons of why a patron stops by the tavern. If they wanted a drink then they will order one, if they wanted a place of shelter for a moment they are allowed. If they wanted protection from magic they may. If their intentions was simply to see if there was any news to be shared they may ask. If they mere came to observe and spy, they can. Anyone was welcomed to the Broken Goblet.
However when any patron enters the Broken Goblet, they do so at their own risk. Magic will not protect them, a shield wont be big enough for the mass amount of carousing pirates, thieves and smugglers and whatever else that might have came to get a goblet. A good sword arm might help. Guile would be preferred. Arrows and projectiles surely was no use. The wards would hamper those as well for the Goblet owners are keen on protecting furniture and their precious ornately carved blown glass they call goblets. All the goblets have an exquisite design, some of a Kraken rising from the see to swallow a galleon and sink it below, or a bellowing dragon that breathed fire while flying above a cove. Some even had a more bawdy design like an Mermaid entwined with a sailor. Such the strange place the Broken Goblet, but it has grown in activity, the profits are evident, the carousing patrons are proof, the passing of rumors are a trail. No matter how welcoming he may present himself, no matter how much he seems to mind his own self, he always wonders why the frequent visitors continue to come to such the place as The Broken Goblet.
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
A hand extended forward palm up withheld and apple as the question was asked. He looked at the apple, it didn't look that fresh, but it still good enough to sink teeth into and pull the sweet juices from the delicious fruit. But it wasn't being offered at the moment to be eaten. It was being used as an example. Funny how the view before his eyes the gesture it self seem pure and innocent and even enticing. Yet the meaning of it, was utterly horrid if not chaotic and sinister. "Yes, but how? When? Where did it come from? An orchard or was it wild? If wild who claimed it, if an orchard who was the farmer?"
After more discussions his expression turned to one of shock. He didn't want to ask, he knew the question was leading into something deeper, something he rather not get involved with. He's only been a bartender for nearly two months, he liked it, it was something different to him, he's met many people and heard many things, somethings he didn't want to hear. And this..this was surely one of those things he did not want to hear, but he had to ask, he couldn't help himself. Knowing things are about to get more dangerous compelled him to ask. The person he was talking too was obviously intelligent. Other's may have used all sorts of means to reach up to the point of knowledge they have now. But this man stood still and simply breathed and took in everything that came to his ear. He was no fool that much the bartender could calculate. The thought came to his mind that , had it naught been for working in the Goblet as the barkeeper, he would never had met such a person, nor get this close and learning to ask all the right questions.
"But who benefits from such a thing?"
"Now you're asking the right questions..."
He couldn't help wonder if their discussions were going to prove them right. Part of him really hoped it would not be the case. For if they were correct, then the recent silence will soon come to an end, and a bellowing storm will replace its steed. Maybe..if their quick enough..the coming storm wont have to be too violent...
“We drink to get drunk, we get drunk to fall asleep, when we fall asleep, we commit no sin, when we commit no sin, we go to the Heaven's."
