05-31-2017, 02:16 AM
The stain on the floor was definitely blood. It looked brackish, as if it had already started to coagulate. Lots of those cop-shows had taught her that. She quickly moved on, a bit sickened, to intermingle and do her thing!
"'Scuse me boys, mind if I join you?" She had picked a table of two men, who were chatting back and forth. One was a shaggy brown-haired, bearded man in his late twenties. He had the look of a lumberjack if she ever saw one - which she hadn't. The other was a decent looking older gentleman, with salt and pepper hair and a long, braided goatee of almost pure silver. From the look of them, this seemed to be a father and son trip to the bar.
"Not at all!" The younger man replied, a smile splitting his face the instant he laid eyes on the beauty that was Lysandra. Her dress depicted her as a wealthy woman no less.
The elder man started a thundering laugh as the youth pulled out a chair for Lysandra. "Beat'n 'em away with a stick, are ya?!" Lysandra immediately believes there was more to that comment than she was aware of. She had definitely interrupted a conversation. "Oh, don' be mind'n me..." The man sighed as he calmed himself. "Me 'n me son Chester's justa drinkin' down th' aches o' labor, if'n ya know what ai be mean'n."
... Lysandra was not quite sure what language this man was speaking, so she turned to the younger man. "Don't mind him, he had a thick accent BEFORE he started drinking. He's three tankards to my one." He gestures to his drink, a sizeable mug for sure. "Speaking of... Waitress!" He beaconed to a woman with a tray. "One more tankard, for the lady. Put it on Pa's tab!"
"Oi! You's thinkin' Imma be payin' fer yer date's boozen about? If'n yer gonna offer, yer gonna start a payin' fer that tab you's done racked *HIC* up..." He held a hand to his chest after that powerful hickup. "Ngh... tha'n hurt a bit." That did not stop him from chuckling. Or hiccuping again.
Chester furrowed his brow at his father. "Sorry about him... he can't quite hold his liquor."
Meanwhile, Lysandra is almost dying of laughter. Reigning it in was almost painful, her face had turned a brilliant red and her lips were pinched tight. "It's no problem at all! I mean... I just... had a few questions! You looked like a nice guy, I was hoping you wouldn't mind helping a new girl out!"
Attention switched swift from his father to the giggling beauty. "Sure! I mean, I'll do what I can." He cleared his throat and took a swig, to try and dial back the general eagerness. "What would you like to know?"
"Well... tell me some about this... um... tavern.... place... It seems kinda quaint... quiet, even..."
The old man just burst out in a gale of laughter, interrupted by devestating hiccups. HahahaHIChahahaHIChahahHIC-ow-hahah-HIC....
"It's... well, it's a nice place during the day, but everyone generally steers clear at night. General theory is a gang likes to hide out in here after hours... they cause a big ruccus... There's usually a lot of growling, so maybe... some sort of under the table pit fighting. Dire wolves, I'm guessing."
"What wolves?" Lysandra's brow furrowed.
"Dire... big ones. Angry too, bout the size of your average horse, with jaws stronger than your run of the mill crocodile." The old man made a statement here, but Lysandra - nor Chester - could really decipher what was said. To make it worse, it just ended with another string of laughter and hiccups.
"'Scuse me boys, mind if I join you?" She had picked a table of two men, who were chatting back and forth. One was a shaggy brown-haired, bearded man in his late twenties. He had the look of a lumberjack if she ever saw one - which she hadn't. The other was a decent looking older gentleman, with salt and pepper hair and a long, braided goatee of almost pure silver. From the look of them, this seemed to be a father and son trip to the bar.
"Not at all!" The younger man replied, a smile splitting his face the instant he laid eyes on the beauty that was Lysandra. Her dress depicted her as a wealthy woman no less.
The elder man started a thundering laugh as the youth pulled out a chair for Lysandra. "Beat'n 'em away with a stick, are ya?!" Lysandra immediately believes there was more to that comment than she was aware of. She had definitely interrupted a conversation. "Oh, don' be mind'n me..." The man sighed as he calmed himself. "Me 'n me son Chester's justa drinkin' down th' aches o' labor, if'n ya know what ai be mean'n."
... Lysandra was not quite sure what language this man was speaking, so she turned to the younger man. "Don't mind him, he had a thick accent BEFORE he started drinking. He's three tankards to my one." He gestures to his drink, a sizeable mug for sure. "Speaking of... Waitress!" He beaconed to a woman with a tray. "One more tankard, for the lady. Put it on Pa's tab!"
"Oi! You's thinkin' Imma be payin' fer yer date's boozen about? If'n yer gonna offer, yer gonna start a payin' fer that tab you's done racked *HIC* up..." He held a hand to his chest after that powerful hickup. "Ngh... tha'n hurt a bit." That did not stop him from chuckling. Or hiccuping again.
Chester furrowed his brow at his father. "Sorry about him... he can't quite hold his liquor."
Meanwhile, Lysandra is almost dying of laughter. Reigning it in was almost painful, her face had turned a brilliant red and her lips were pinched tight. "It's no problem at all! I mean... I just... had a few questions! You looked like a nice guy, I was hoping you wouldn't mind helping a new girl out!"
Attention switched swift from his father to the giggling beauty. "Sure! I mean, I'll do what I can." He cleared his throat and took a swig, to try and dial back the general eagerness. "What would you like to know?"
"Well... tell me some about this... um... tavern.... place... It seems kinda quaint... quiet, even..."
The old man just burst out in a gale of laughter, interrupted by devestating hiccups. HahahaHIChahahaHIChahahHIC-ow-hahah-HIC....
"It's... well, it's a nice place during the day, but everyone generally steers clear at night. General theory is a gang likes to hide out in here after hours... they cause a big ruccus... There's usually a lot of growling, so maybe... some sort of under the table pit fighting. Dire wolves, I'm guessing."
"What wolves?" Lysandra's brow furrowed.
"Dire... big ones. Angry too, bout the size of your average horse, with jaws stronger than your run of the mill crocodile." The old man made a statement here, but Lysandra - nor Chester - could really decipher what was said. To make it worse, it just ended with another string of laughter and hiccups.
[img=0x0]http://omniverse-rpg.com/attachment.php?aid=39[/img]