The Ugliest Barrel

From the outside it looks delightful, cheerful and pleasant. Clay bricks and marble details make up most of the building's outer structure.
It's difficult to see through the small, stained glass windows, but the enthusiastic noises from within can be felt outside.

As you enter the tavern through the decorated, metal door, you're welcomed by overall happiness and laughing voices.
The bartender is working hard, but still manages to welcome you with a smile. She is pretty, with short scarlet hair and wears taut, revealing clothes and glossy black high heels:



It's as charming inside as it is on the outside. Rounded, wooden beams support the upper floor and the rows of small lights attached to them. The walls are loaded with hundreds of memorabilia, all signed and most likely donated by customers..

The tavern itself is packed. Soldiers seem to be the primary clientele here, which is often a good sign. Several long tables are occupied by, what looks like couples, lone travellers and anybody else who enjoys great company. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who seem to be close with the owner, though they happily welcome others among their midst. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company.

You did hear rumors about this tavern, supposedly it's famous for something, but you can't remember what for. Though judging by the warmth and joy radiating through out the tavern, it's probably the atmosphere and its beautiful proprietress that makes this tavern famous. You manage to find a seat and prepare for what will undoubtedly be a great evening.

________________________

"Yes, another ale on the way, sorry we don't sell Galideno Absinthe here luv, that stuff's pretty rare out there!" Lenore says to a pair of customers, her heels clicking upon the hard wood flooring, her buttocks shifting side to side as she walks with a little lift in her gait. The shiny, leather pants she wears accentuates Lenore's thick thighs, hips, and ass. Her top is taut, silky in appearance, a pair of small rounded points where her nipples emboss the attractive, comfortable looking material as her medium breasts jiggle and sway as she works the old levers on the casks. The barrels of alcohol which line the back of the bar with the regular spirits such as Ale, Rum, and Mead- the popular drink for her regulars. Her hair is scarlet red, parted to the right, with the hair falling at the back of her neck. She has large, beautiful chocolate brown eyes, with a small beauty mark under her left eye. Her skin is fair, but not a sickly pale. One could see the finer muscles of her body as she moves about, this lovely woman surely is no damsel.

She leans over the bar, the opening in her shirt revealing her jiggling breast's cleavage as she smiles warmly to one of her regulars, passing the stein over to them. "Sorry, the telle is still broken luv, as is the radio and the com links. You'll have to wait till next week... in meantime, the juke's still somewhat working, just don't play number nine, it loops unless I unplug the damned beast." Lenore giggles, a light, attractive voice that compliments her features. It seemed the 'The Ugliest Barrel' name came from the barrels behind her. In truth, she put a contest out in Cretu and this name won.

She winked to one of her regulars, and went back to the wine rack to grab a bottle of wine for another hawker's orders. It was a rather busy evening it seemed.

Like a baleful storm shifting across a pleasant backdrop drawing ever closer to paradise, a figure clad in dark and earthy colors approaches the rather cheerful and inviting bar with its marble and clay brick details and its small, stained glass windows. For being out in the sticks, Damien thought it looked out of place... the tall, brooding figure with dark rings under his purple-blue eyes approached with his hands in his pockets, hood over his head of grey hair and brought his personal storm cloud of darkness with him as he got closer to the edifice that was extruding an opposite feeling when compared to him; a black hole.

He approached the decorated metal door, and pushed the door open, wincing at the enthusiastic noises and the cheerful disposition. Gods... make it stop... I couldn't sleep well at all last night... He thought to himself, as he groaned, shambling through the doorway and looked around for a message board, someplace to stamp his flyer. The inside reminded him of a restaurant he visited in Breland city... one of those slightly tacky places with bicycles hanging on the wall... thankfully, this place didn't have one... though he did see some impressive swords. He got caught in the moment looking at the assortment of junk and treasures mounted on the walls, that he didn't acknowledge any of the clientele or staff while wandering about.

Damien Darleston wrote:Like a baleful storm shifting across a pleasant backdrop drawing ever closer to paradise, a figure clad in dark and earthy colors approaches the rather cheerful and inviting bar with its marble and clay brick details and its small, stained glass windows. For being out in the sticks, Damien thought it looked out of place... the tall, brooding figure with dark rings under his purple-blue eyes approached with his hands in his pockets, hood over his head of grey hair and brought his personal storm cloud of darkness with him as he got closer to the edifice that was extruding an opposite feeling when compared to him; a black hole.

He approached the decorated metal door, and pushed the door open, wincing at the enthusiastic noises and the cheerful disposition. Gods... make it stop... I couldn't sleep well at all last night... He thought to himself, as he groaned, shambling through the doorway and looked around for a message board, someplace to stamp his flyer. The inside reminded him of a restaurant he visited in Breland city... one of those slightly tacky places with bicycles hanging on the wall... thankfully, this place didn't have one... though he did see some impressive swords. He got caught in the moment looking at the assortment of junk and treasures mounted on the walls, that he didn't acknowledge any of the clientele or staff while wandering about.

Lenore heard the large metal door with its decorative designs part ways, and she turned her big brown eyes to the direction of the new arrival. It was almost a shock, as she didn't recognize the appearance of the individual so she decided to give them a hearty welcome. "Oi!" She called over. "Welcome to the Ugliest Barrel stranger, care for a drink or some food? First tankard's on the house! Stay a while and put your feet up, you... look like you need it." She began warmly, noticing how haggard and tired the man looked. She could see bags under his eyes from here, making the man look like a skeleton from where she stood!

Lenore Lunathorn wrote:

Damien Darleston wrote:Like a baleful storm shifting across a pleasant backdrop drawing ever closer to paradise, a figure clad in dark and earthy colors approaches the rather cheerful and inviting bar with its marble and clay brick details and its small, stained glass windows. For being out in the sticks, Damien thought it looked out of place... the tall, brooding figure with dark rings under his purple-blue eyes approached with his hands in his pockets, hood over his head of grey hair and brought his personal storm cloud of darkness with him as he got closer to the edifice that was extruding an opposite feeling when compared to him; a black hole.

He approached the decorated metal door, and pushed the door open, wincing at the enthusiastic noises and the cheerful disposition. Gods... make it stop... I couldn't sleep well at all last night... He thought to himself, as he groaned, shambling through the doorway and looked around for a message board, someplace to stamp his flyer. The inside reminded him of a restaurant he visited in Breland city... one of those slightly tacky places with bicycles hanging on the wall... thankfully, this place didn't have one... though he did see some impressive swords. He got caught in the moment looking at the assortment of junk and treasures mounted on the walls, that he didn't acknowledge any of the clientele or staff while wandering about.

Lenore heard the large metal door with its decorative designs part ways, and she turned her big brown eyes to the direction of the new arrival. It was almost a shock, as she didn't recognize the appearance of the individual so she decided to give them a hearty welcome. "Oi!" She called over. "Welcome to the Ugliest Barrel stranger, care for a drink or some food? First tankard's on the house! Stay a while and put your feet up, you... look like you need it." She began warmly, noticing how haggard and tired the man looked. She could see bags under his eyes from here, making the man look like a skeleton from where she stood!

Damien turned his head slowly to the lovely bar tender... who looked like she traded her life out at sea to further inland. Maybe it was the shirt hanging and swaying as she leaned over the counter to face him. He glanced back up from her medium buoys, his tired, lidded eyes looking into her large brown eyes half obscured by scarlet red bangs. "...I'm just here to set up a flyer with your permission. And perhaps, use the facilities." he replied, pulling out a flyer from the satchel pack under his right arm.

"Monsters or Demons Bugging you? For 500 Gilex (rate will very upon difficulty of creature involved) I will slay the problem creature involved. Just say 'Triple D' upon this flyer and I shall arrive within notice. It also helps to speak to the flyer of your situation. -DDD"

He then pulled out another flyer. "I also got this wanted poster from the Demon Hunter's Guild, I'm handing them out to various bars and market places on their behalf." He explained, showing the image of an odd half-lizard, half frog looking creature with large, slatted eyes and sharp teeth as well as a long, furling tongue.

Lenore blinked at his flat response denying servitude and then had a glance over his flyers. "...Triple D?" She inquired, glancing up at him with a cocked brow. "I hope your not posting these up in women clothing stores, they may send the wrong impression." She jested, before taking not of the wanted poster. "Ah, so yer a demon hunter eh? Sheesh, 80,000 Gilex for this slimy toad with teeth? She must be a handful to get such a price on her head." She says, shrugging. "...toilet's in the back, but you sure I can't interest ya in something to eat or a drink?" She asked with an inviting smile, propping her elbow on the counter of the bar, her medium chest jiggling as she popped her hip out as well, crossing one shapely leg over the other. Her crimson hair swayed over her right eye. "I'm always happy to serve new customers~" She hummed sweetly.

He chuckled. "Damien Demetrius Darleston, my unfortunate name. People have a hard time remembering my name, so I took to signing my flyers with three Ds. But yeah, I wouldn't mind if you posted those up somewhere for people to see." He explained. As for the offer of food or drink, or a conversation, he shrugged. "Maybe another time. I got plenty of posters to plaster up and I have to walk over to the next village or way station before night fall." He explained.

Lenore nodded. "Ahh, I see. I be Lenore Lunathorn Mr. Darleston. I'm sure you'll remember that name." She smiled, folding up his flyer and dabbed the paper scrap between her cleavage through the opening of her shirt with a playful wink. "Stop by before you make your way out, I'll give ya something for the road at the very least." She says, before walking over to the community board to post the Demon Hunter Guild's Wanted Poster, and began attending to her other customer's needs.

Lenore Lunathorn wrote:Lenore nodded. "Ahh, I see. I be Lenore Lunathorn Mr. Darleston. I'm sure you'll remember that name." She smiled, folding up his flyer and dabbed the paper scrap between her cleavage through the opening of her shirt with a playful wink. "Stop by before you make your way out, I'll give ya something for the road at the very least." She says, before walking over to the community board to post the Demon Hunter Guild's Wanted Poster, and began attending to her other customer's needs.

The man looked slightly sour watching the woman fold up his flyer... then again, he was pretty much promoting his own business without giving much thought of her own within her establishment... and noticed she tucked it between her chest. He flustered, but his face still remained stoic and serious. Should I tell her...? Hm... No. He chuckled. "Not necessary, but I appreciate it Ms. Lunathorn." He replied, flicking her a couple gilex coins from his pouch. "For the service." He says with a smile, before heading towards the toilet.

Inside the bathroom, after doing his business in the stall... he took a seat, and pulled out his pocket watch, blushing with his stoic look. "I shouldn't... but I do have an obligation to check on my wards... see if they're working appropriately..." he says to himself, coughing gently at his own bull shit excuse. He knew they worked fine, every flyer and wanted poster carried his viewing mark on them that allowed him sight and hearing, like a remote camera. He glanced both ways outside the stall, before locking his door. He traced his fingers across the rune on his watch's interior, and the face of the clock began to glow, swirling and take shape. He could see the bar right now, as he looked through the Demon Hunter Guild's Wanted Poster. "Hmm that one's working well..." he says, before blushing. "How about..."

The image changed, and was dark. He sighed. "Yeah... figured..." He rubbed his aching neck, but then saw movement and could see through the fabric as Lenore moved through the light. He became flustered again. So she really wasn't wearing a... underneath... He felt his face grow warm. He wasn't usually a pervert, but given the situation, and that he was probably never coming back to this place in the middle of the winding canyon... among other things, he didn't feel too bad about it. It was harmless, more mischief than deviance; if the latter was the case he'd have posted these flyers in compromising places instead! Still, he figured he'd have his share of fun to keep himself awake and ready to move on to the next location, and this was longest time he actually sat down in the past week. Entertainment and rest, a perfect combination!

She blinked at the sudden coin appearing in her face as she turned, her quick reflexes allowing her to catch the coins with ease, showing off her dexterity to the fifteen or so customers she had today as well. "Just call me Lenore, luv!" She winked, before continuing to her duties. Someone called for a Nuka-Rum cocktail and another wanted some plain old milk. A few requested the usual rum, ale, or mead as well, and again someone kept asking for absinthe. "Baked potatoes coming right up," She says, to another customer, pulling the half slabs of two, large potatoes from an oven around the corner, slathered some butter and sour cream and ground chive before handing the steaming plate to one of the hungry customers. She smiled, the work kept her on her feet, her heels clicking and clacking as she did everything by herself. She didn't have any 'employee's but sometimes a few of her regulars would volunteer to help cook or serve if the pub was unusually swamped. "Two boiled cream treats for ya dears," she winked, handing a plate of a pair of doughnut looking pastries with glazed sugar and Bavarian/Rolanish cream between them to another group of rowdy looking adventurers. "Emberbrand wine? Yup, still got it for ya hon." She says as she poured a glass of wine for another thirsty customer.

Phew... so many people today, its crazier than it usually is! But, this beats working on a ship any day. She thought, chuckling to herself as she wipes her brow with a rag, while another hand rested on her shiny leather clad hip.

Lenore Lunathorn wrote:She blinked at the sudden coin appearing in her face as she turned, her quick reflexes allowing her to catch the coins with ease, showing off her dexterity to the fifteen or so customers she had today as well. "Just call me Lenore, luv!" She winked, before continuing to her duties. Someone called for a Nuka-Rum cocktail and another wanted some plain old milk. A few requested the usual rum, ale, or mead as well, and again someone kept asking for absinthe. "Baked potatoes coming right up," She says, to another customer, pulling the half slabs of two, large potatoes from an oven around the corner, slathered some butter and sour cream and ground chive before handing the steaming plate to one of the hungry customers. She smiled, the work kept her on her feet, her heels clicking and clacking as she did everything by herself. She didn't have any 'employee's but sometimes a few of her regulars would volunteer to help cook or serve if the pub was unusually swamped. "Two boiled cream treats for ya dears," she winked, handing a plate of a pair of doughnut looking pastries with glazed sugar and Bavarian/Rolanish cream between them to another group of rowdy looking adventurers. "Emberbrand wine? Yup, still got it for ya hon." She says as she poured a glass of wine for another thirsty customer.

Phew... so many people today, its crazier than it usually is! But, this beats working on a ship any day. She thought, chuckling to herself as she wipes her brow with a rag, while another hand rested on her shiny leather clad hip.

Damien watched through the 'lens' so to speak of his magic flyers. The 'boob cam' did little but shift between the pair of creamy skin, the thin fabric and the faces of the patrons. He checked his other flyers, and found one dizzying as it flew through the wind somewhere over the Scardian ocean. "Hrmm... should have nailed that one down better..." He mumbled. He checked the Wanted Poster's view, and saw the bar again. Lenore was a very hard worker it seemed, and he felt a tad guilty of his peeping. Even so... he decided he'd take a moment to look around, and observe while he actually had the chance to rest... switching views back to chest cam. (ooc LMAO I'm so sorry )

Lenore brought over a couple of purple bottles of 'Who’s Who Mystery Blend' pop from the icebox. "Okay, 8 Gilex each boys, and don't be pukin on me if you get a vomit flavor!" She says, in regards to the gag drink. "In fact, ye be sure to mop up any of your shit while your at it!" She laughed, before turning to the dry goods rack to pull out some dried beef sausage for another customer, and beef stew for another. Someone called for lemon juice and a black brier mead. "In a moment!" She exclaimed, getting a little worked up with her countless tasks, her skin perspiring gently, her creamy skin warm and glistening as she prepared the necessary items.

Crisis Rocan wrote:I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Gawd that was fucked up.  For a moment I forget I’m sitting at a table in a full bar room, that it’s not that frigid fucking ice planet that the Pirates of the Carribean forgot.  Oh yeah I’ve chiseled ice from the hearts of frigid bitches warmer than the air of that frostbitten arctic Carnival Cruise.  The cold, the cold I can deal with, sixteen months straight is a little nappy but sure no problem.  The ice cold turn your nuts to popsuckles water sure, I can man up for that too, shaved ice showers why the hell not.  Frost, ice, snow, glaciers, icebergs, and pirates only fucking pirates.  Not brothel, not a whorehouse, nor wench, not soldiers, or kingdoms, just fucking pirates and ice between waterworld and himalaya climates.  Needless to say I was looking forward to a nice long hot fucking and bath, yes both maybe even at the same time.  Oh that would be a pleasant change, it sure as hell beats the Icy Pirate thrill ride, I was still shivering from.  And that folks was just the fucking highlight reel… it gets worse… much much too my dread and horror worse.

First and foremost I wish the ship I was on sunk like the fucking Titanic, but ever time I caught sight of an iceberg, the goddamn things fled from the pirate ships.  Seriously how in the name of all things cursed and broken does an iceberg have the self awareness to flee from impending doom.  That world is so fucked.  Living Icebergs being chased by pirate ships manned by…

And you know what really chapped my ass the most about being there for sixteen months, sixteen months, their months mind you which is something like three or four solar cycles more or less than a decade of earth time.  I Show up to a new place cool, it’s cold enough freeze Frosty’s fucking balls off but fuck it I’ve had fun in subzero crouches before, I mean yeah that.  Anyway avoiding the entirely ill timed and awfully ironic truth of that last statement, I was all good and ready to play Santa’s little… no no been there Rudolphed the shit out Mrs Clause’s throat.  Suffice to say I was ok with frozen nut syndrome and freezer burn bathing but the one thing I was neither expecting or very thrilled about was the way I should up.

Looking back I feel pretty damn good to be in my old skin again, as I can feel the hat on my head and the open coat on my shoulders, oh and that mirror like reflection on the chilled glass of alcohol on the table in front of me seen through a good pair of sunglasses.  Not for the weak of hand and arm to lift mind you, they are a bite on the near indestructible side, and maybe only four hundred pounds give or take a chip or two. And Scardians think they're strong, the bridge of my nose has more strength by far.  So I was feeling like my old self again.





Not how I spent almost the last decade and a half.  It sent shivers down my spine, I swear that world was back asswards crazy in every way conceivable.  I just walked out of one bad mess straight onto the deck of one pirate ship from some other distant but far less twisted planet out there in the great black void of space and time only to find myself showing up looking like Galaxia… and just in case you don’t get the reference let me share my misfortune with you for a moment, picture my hair long longer and much fuller than it is in this moment, You could even say womanly full, and bouncy, my voice a bit rough and scratchy.  Well the air was a far cry from room temperature.  And as soon as I got a good look at myself I wanted to kick the ever loving hell out of my favorite mistresses Luck and Fate, this was a very sick joke they had played on me.  But I’m getting just a little ahead of myself here.  Before I even got the chance to see myself for myself, that sounds horrible by the way.  I got a grand turn at sword point, a tour of the crew of that fine vessel.  And I was stuck there for nearly fifteen years, awful, horrible cold better nipple hardeningly, craptastically, bizarrely but very pointedly glass cuttingly nipple firmingly ice fucking cold years of isadventure and madness.  

Anyway the crew were strange and odd, and I don’t mean in a aye me matey sort of way, but more a morbidly frozen kind of way.  The Captain of this fine crew was of course the first person I was formally introduced to.





More specifically the frozen dead remains of said captain, hmm or should I say former captain of this frosty crew of frozen fucking pirates.  Hehe…

Oh sorry it’s funny, give me another minute or so and you’ll see the humor in it too.  Cold ruthless pirates with hearts of ice and they had the nerve to call me a freak.  Well I suppose I put this off long enough so this pirate crew and their insults and threats about death or slavery were a bit irritating, more the slavery than dath, that would have been a blessed escape instead of almost fifteen years of oh god please let me die of frost bite or boredom… literally… Alright fine I won’t stall anymore here’s the lineup in no particular order, you can try and guess which of these chilling horrors were which crewmate and first officer and so on.  I refuse to sort out the details of which ones which.  Fifteen years did I mention that yet, for the love of a simple death fifteen years slaving away with this bad crew.




















So allow me to rephrase what I said a moment ago about this pirate crew, the are FROSTY THE FUCKING SNOW PIRATES crew.  I swear I was so dumbfounded at seeing these evil ass snowmen I couldn’t bring myself to mercilessly slaughter them and save myself what turned into fifteen years of serving snowmen pirates.  What kind of a back asswards planet has living breathing snowmen, pirates nonetheless and icebergs that run away from them.  Fucking Twilight Zone materal here, I was looking at Alice’s worst nightmare, raped by Frosty the Fucking snowman with a large helping of Adolph the slave driving Nazi as a side dish.  

And they called me a freak… well this was how I responded, and sadly how I looked.

Don’t watch it’s horrible. I feel so dirty!





Anyway onto brighter things that nightmare cruise is over and I found myself in a warm cozy bar one minute I was sitting down in the captain’ cabin for a drink of ice cold crushed ice stripes and the next thing I know I’m staring and a frosted glass mug here and now…

Oops, that’s a new twist.  I slowly looked around as I saw my current and new surroundings which I hadn’t paid the least bit of attention to yet, having just been so thrilled to be in a place warmer than an ice cream sandwich buried at the lowest point of Antarctica just a nipples distance into the frozen ocean’s depths.  I must have startled the local patrons with my sudden and rather abrupt entrance, only startled would have required everyone within ten feet of me not to be frozen solid, probably frozen dead solid.  Oops.  Well at least I was back to normal and not looking like Woody Harrelson’s Galaxia character, and believe me I’m going to need some good therapy after that experience, probably just a good long…

HEY can I get something that is literally on fire to drink over here and not going to be put out no matter what!  It’s a bit cold over here.


I say shaking off all the ice chips and snow which I had accidentally brought with me through space and time and who the fuck knows where and what else.  And ordering a drink on fire sounded like a better plan than trying to explain all the dead frozen patrons of the bar I just poofed into out absolutely fucking nowhere!

She was fortunately away from the bar, grabbing a bowl of tomato soup when the sudden cold chill flowed through the room. "Brr. Scar'd's beard... did somebody leave the door open? Feels like a chill from the mountain-" she says as she returned and noticed several of her bar patrons and a new arrival were now encased in ice. Now, exposure was the last thing a Scardian had to worry about, they didn't get that... but being encased in ice did make it hard to breath. "Shiver me bones..." She says almost dropping the bowl of steaming soup, which she instinctively threw onto the ice!

"Everyone okay?" She asked, before her eyes locked on to the new arrival. He was.. well, she couldn't tell how tall he was given his sitting position, but she assumed he was perhaps around her height or slightly taller. She was going to ask if he was okay when he called for something on fire. She took a moment to think up something... and then remembered. "I have ya covered, give me one second!" She exclaimed, her speed kicking in, that Scardian speed that her body flashed from one side of the bar to the next.

She took a blow torch, a bottle of Domescadian Ghost Reaper Pepper sauce, vodka, and a bottle of Ashfire Mead:


Another spiced mead. This one is actually carried by bloodhounds on search and rescue in the white vastness, and is used to help revive unconscious or frozen victims of that icy hell. She had a few on hand from her personal collection, but given the circumstances it was a necessary sacrifice. "Back again, stay cool, er, warm." She says with a warm smile, her scarlet hair swaying side to side when she slid back into view, a tankard of steel she heated up with the torch, while she pours the contents of the ashfire mead into the cup. "Lemme give you a proper greeting once I've thawed ya out, stranger." She says, squirting a sizable amount of the Ghost Reaper Pepper sauce into the brew, juggling the vodka bottle in her other hand; she was giving a show while still rescuing her new arrival. Mixing the vodka into the heated tankard, she stirred the tankard with a straw and after yanking it out, applied the torch to the top. "Voila, the Molotov Cocktail." She presented the item as a plume of flame erupted from the spicy and literally flaming concoction. As the fire climbed up into the air, she reached up and for a moment the flame paused in place. She the twirled her fingers, conjuring the fire into a ball as it hovered in place, before he began dispersing the flame across her frozen patrons.

Ice melted as she applied flames to her usual patrons, and she then leaned forwards, her medium bust hanging, her arm propping her head up as she smiled at her new arrival. "Heh, how many bars you visit where the bar tender puts on a show and literally puts her patrons on fire?" She asked, batting her long lashes.

Damien switched back to the bar view, and figured he had enough for fun one day when his view was obstructed suddenly by a flash of bright blue light! The mark he had placed on the wanted poster faded, and he winced. "What the hell?!" He exclaimed, when he suddenly felt cold air sweeping through from the other room. He switched views, back to Lenore's chest cam and could only make out jagged shapes and someone screaming for something on fire. "What the hell?" He repeated, and with the growing cold, could almost see Lenore's nipples getting hardened by the cold!

Crisis Rocan wrote:Red rove,r flame thrower, which way should I tilt this flaming brew over. What I lost my last train of thought?  A nice display of reds washed in flame and motion zipped to and fro, fire and flaming red hair perfectly matched as I chattered reflexively from the heat, well when you're used to being subzero all the time the heat makes you shiver in places that can't even move.  My hand slide around the flaming drink soaking up the heat as the hostess played psychokinesis patron polo to thaw her customers before reaching the state of death.  A sad state I'll admit, but not one without it's fringe benefits.  Like not being frozen to the core for one thing.

It was nice to hold something warm for a change, something I wouldn't have to pry my hand off of and lose skin over.  Ah heat, while the lady of the place put on her fire ball show I took a moment for the once over.  Nice slender build, well balanced from top to bottom, curves in all the appropriate places without any of the unsightly bulk that defines many of similar style and class.  Hot I dare say to just the right level for my liking, and taste, perhaps a bit more than I would choose up top normally, but acceptable all the same.  Yup I would say it was the perfect drinking container for the fiery concoction I was staring at.

Only when they offer free burnings at the stake.

Well that was a morbid thing to say.  I gave the flaming brew one last look, giving my poor frozen appendages a moments thought right before I tilted it up and over, pouring the flaming concoction all over my bare chest.  Without so much as a peep or a  twitch to give way to any kind of pain from the burning sensation spreading slowly down my hard pack frozen chest and stomach I politely smile to the lady of the place.

It does sting a bit, but it goes down smoothly enough.

I feel like such an ass saying that after pouring a flaming beverage onto myself, but for the love of all things not frozen it felt good to burn once again...

and frankly I didn't really feel like explaining why I had ordered a drink on fire and bathed myself in it.  Although having the snow and ice melt off my chest was pleasant, if not a bit burny and stingy.

You wouldn't happen know a place where a poor soul could get out of this awful weather for a bit to warm up properly would you.  Nothing fancy mind, a bit more private.  I'm afraid my entrance left a terrible chill in the room and I'd like to avoid any unpleasantness.

"Ha!" she exclaimed at his mention of the burning at the stake. "Well, I won't steak ya, but you can have that burnin' concoction for free. First one's on the house." She says with a wink, before watching him pour it over himself. Oddly, upon hitting the icy shell of his chest the drink melted away the ice... revealing a rather impressive set of abs which her eyes locked onto rather quickly. "Daaaamn..." She says, blinking, before glancing back to his eyes, smirking. "You must be absolutely frigged- frigid. Not to feel that, ahem." She corrected herself, chuckling nervously.

She raised a brow at this. "...luv, I don't know how you ended up here, nor what icy hell you brought with ya, but you'll be happy to know there's no snow outside and these oafs can handle the chill well than most folks." She smiled warmly. Her thoughts on him bringing up being somewhere private however did give her some... lewd thoughts. "If you're still cold, you can come back behind the counter and warm up by my oven. Its hot and open." she winked. She noticed his eyes glance her over and she smirked. "While my other patrons thaw out, how about you help yourself to something behind the counter here and tell me what happened and how you got here." She says, her heels clicking as she moved about on the side of the counter she referred to.

((Ooc: ))

"You poor man," she replied as he continued to talk to her, her back to him as she began rummaging for supplies. "well, you're here now, so allow me to warm ya up." The man was practically a human popsicle, and she doubted he'd even be able to stand let alone walk over to the warm oven behind the counter, while her rather curvy behind faced him, the shiny leather only accentuated her curves. She wondered if he was acting half delirious due to the cold, but she humored him for now. After all, he did just appear from no where. "Almost sounds like you had a beef with Stratus, that mischievous prankster God is rumored to sometimes send killer snow golems out to capture people. Its fine though, no snow outside today." She answered, back still to him. The thin, satin material of her shirt clung to her skin as she looked around for something to keep him talking. The oven around the corner of the three large barrels of alcohol illuminated Lenore with a red-orange glow, making her look like a fire ember that was ejected from a campfire, especially with her short, bouncing scarlet hair.

She chuckled. "Having frozen neathers is no fun at all, but keep your eyes on me and they'll be good as new in no-" she began to tease when she heard the popping sound from behind. She turned her large brown eyes, half her body to the direction of the counter's entrance, her mouth slightly agape at the sight of him walking... well, stiff jointedly so at very least... but glancing down noticed he was missing some things... "...as I was going to say, lemme help unthaw ya out, but it seems you are already in the development stages, Luv." She chuckled, before remembering she did have a second floor that was more wishful thinking when she designed this place. She's used it mostly for storage, the number of patrons never exceeding the number of tables and chairs on the ground floor and why was she thinking of this now?! She had to peel her eyes away from his... cutlass so to speak, and glanced back to his eyes. "I think you're clothes however need to be defrosted. I can tend to those later. I don't be, hah, offering patrons to stay at me humble little Pub here that often, but considering the circumstances and that assless crotchless chaps are out of style in this part of Scardia, I can't let ya wander off the premises; not while I can also tend to other parts of ya~" She winked, flustered a little. Getting another glance at him, the man was a little taller than her as well. She almost forgot she had a couple of half frozen Scardians lining the bar in cryostasis watching if they could see at all at the moment.

Damien was trying to get a better look, could only hear someone ranting about ice and frozen neathers when he heard someone call his name. He blinked, and switched his views to a poster he had placed out in Cretu, and he smirked. "Well, I guess its no concern of mine now, duty calls." He says to himself, as he closes his eyes, raises two fingers and casts the incantation. Soon, with a bright light, he vanished from sight!

Crisis Rocan wrote:

Excuse me…

Excuse me…

Your balls are showing…

Well balls like that should be on display the lady folk might argue in my favor, of course I’d never be so pardon the pun ballsy to say so myself.

Can’t say that I’ve pissed any Gods off lately, well not in my recent memory at least, of course that doesn’t mean I haven’t.  I mean I could have.  But I’m not talking about brainless machanizations, what I dealt with was cold hard ice… eh whatever.  Done bun can’t be undone as a writer once wrote.

Now that’s a bag out of the cat, and a shave awkwardly close.  Anyway normally when I man “is standing around with his dick out” it’s not supposed to be a good thing, or literal for that matter.  Usually making a reference to dong something stupid awkward you know, nothing I would ever do, on purpose.  I mean I’m literally standing here with my dick out and I’m sure it’s not just the fairer sex eye raping my center place with it’s lovely matching rock collection.  

Of course I did think it had gotten a little drafty after I stood up, but I was attributing that to the fact my body was working rather hard on regaining it’s normal temperature, as opposed to its more recent subzeroian lows.  How was I to know my clothes would break like a cheap window hit by a stray ball.  Tink tink, tink tink…

They should not be making that noise, in fact they shouldn’t be making any noise at all ummm.

Just how frozen are they?

Hm chaps are always in bad taste, well I guess there’s no helping it.  I’ll be relying on you then to take care of me.

Did I really just fucking say that?  UGH, scratch one off the manga nevr to do lit on purpose.  Polite stating that you are in someone’s care and relying on them.  Bad bad, I should be ashamed of myself.  Well I do have to admit the old tennis equipment is a little under the weather.

Under the weather huh, more like encased in bronze like a bleeding towel rack designed by ancient greek sculptors training to over compensate for the average Joes they normally used as models for their statues, although it looks a bit pointy and sharp where the ice is thawing.  Now I’m more than ready to follow along which ever way the bouncy flame haired head leads, only if she stops to fast or I get a bit to close she might end up a cut lass, the way my better side is frozen and well… well hung at the moment.  God again with the horrid puns.

An yet I wonder if she put her fiery colored head down

"That one's a new one for me," she explained, glancing back to the other patrons. "Oi, it ain't a peep show, go on and defrost or continue drinkin' you damn fools!" she waved them off, before turning over to the oven again and then back to the nameless frozen popsicle of a man. "Well, I can mend leather well enough, so once everythings melted I'll gather everything together and get to fixing it." She explained, as she turned to the bar again and, was somewhat thankful for the sudden stillness of activity... granted, her patrons were near frozen solid so they couldn't do much anyway, she overlooked that and turned to face the stranger. "I'm Lenore by the way, Lenore Lunathorn." She says with a smile, taking him by his cold wrist and led him around the three massive barrels of ale, rum, and mead to the illumination of the flaming oven made of arranged cobblestone and blackened iron. "Stay close to the fire, Mr...?" She inquired, smiling as she tried to keep her eyes pried away from his... impressive long sword.

Man I was starting to get the worst funky chicken conga line vibe in my head as I took up position at a respectable distance behind the alluring hostess. I mean to be fair if I was any closer I’d be up her ass in head on collision that wouldn’t be too comfortable. No give, still hard as a Greek statue fresh off the chisel.

Led by the hand and wrist I couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, after all it’s not everyday you get to follow a fiery red head for a little warming untoward the back during business hours. I tried my best not to shuffle along like a drunken half beaten penguin, I tried, but having seen what one of those little mouth breathers waddles like after a few good beatings, I knew I was failing miserably at it. At least I had the good sense to follow the one leading me around by the…

Hand. I’m having flashbacks of ice cave sex and Ivanette’s dancing in the snow. Only I’m not dancing and neither are the good old boys. Stiff as a Vodka straight up, hold the rocks…. Not my boys, the ice. No ice for the love of all things warm and or fuzzy too, hold the ice on that thoughts.

Crisis Rocan, no need for titles or honorifics, been around way too long to brother with sweet nothing courtesies and….


HOLY FROZEN FRAGGLE HIVE BINTER SLUICE MUSH MEATBALLS…. Holy hell that’s cold!

Sure the oven was warm, her hand was warm, the occasion poke against her soft firm round rump was warm with my rock steady piece keeping the distance almost between us, but for the love of a hot fudge sundae with nuts on top, I was starting to feel the damn cold. And to think I was actually warming up, so why in Satan’s anus were my numb nuts not so numb anymore. My ice cubes were thawing great wonderful a little warmth would be a perfect ten right about now, but no the felt like the iceberg that sank the Titanic was raping them with a frosty.

While her back was to him, she could occasionally feel his... long piece nudging against her leather clad bum. She smirked, devilishly. It had... been a while since she had felt the warmth of another. Perhaps it would be helpful in thawing the man out? "Crisis Rocan eh? Well Crisis..." She blinked, turning to him, closing the distance that one, shapely leather clad thigh was against his, and her hand which held his raised up to cup his cheek. "I could take you up stairs... and help thaw you out~" She purred, her brown, heavy lidded eyes glaring with pure, naughty thoughts on her mind; her not too subtle tongue licking her lower lip also pointed this out as she hummed seductively. He was cold, icy to the touch, but was sure he wouldn't be that way for lon-

Crisis Rocan wrote:

HOLY FROZEN FRAGGLE HIVE BINTER SLUICE MUSH MEATBALLS…. Holy hell that’s cold!

She was surprised by this, her eyes widening, and she blinked rapidly. "I-is everything okay?" She asked, concerned, looking him up and down.

She was confused by his meaning, glancing him up and down. She figured he was attracted to her by the way he kept glancing at her ass and such... perhaps cold feet? Puns aside, she nodded her head slowly. "Ahhh yes, the snow and all that." She says nodding her head again. "Well then, stick around a while, and maybe you'll thaw out a bit more." She smirked, before remembering the customers still frozen to the bar. "Stand by the fire for a bit, and I'll be back in a jiffy." She smirked, before heading back to the bar. She had to figure out how to get her other customers out...