The Tipsy Dragon Pub (Free form RP)
 

The bartender cleans glasses behind the polished wood bar. The bar was fully stocked. The place was pretty clean for a pub. An elf sat in a corner with a pint of bitter playing songs on a guitar. He had a pewter mug infront of him to collect change and written requests for songs. The sign on the out side of the pub showed a drunken red dragon holding a martini glass.

(Feel free to jump in any time. And yes the elf is Satsu from War of the Dragons, he's playing "Brick House" by the Commodores if you're curious.)

The half-ogre bends down, waaay down, and enters the pub. A long chain runs from his hand, leading outside.

"A barrel of beer, please." he says ina remarkably cultured voice.

He takes a seat in the corner and promtply falls asleep.

OOC: Day long cover ex. Next update in 17 hours. Don't leave him behind. Thanks.

A mage walked in the tip of his hat catching the top of the door. Looking around, he just had to mutter, "Lively place. I just might have to liven it up." He took a seat at the bar and looked the bartender right in the eye. "Give me your strongest shot."

The bartender makes a quick drink and deposits it in front of the mage. He then goes to deliver a small keg over to the ogre.

"She's a brick...house. Mighty. Mighty. Just lettin it all hang out."

Kal Tethlis walked in, and proceeded to bang his head on the wall. Elven prince, one of the best archers in existance, man most likely to get a girl to slap him within 10 seconds of their meeting him.

He hadn't even done anything this time. He walked over the bar, unslung his quiver, bow, and two swords and put them on the ground. "Hard drink please. And some ice."

The bar tender poured a Scotch on the rocks.

Kal downed it in one swig. "Another. Please."

Then he banged his head on the counter one more time for good mesure, and slapped some ice onto his cheek bone. "And could you tell that other elf over there to play something better?"

He poured another drink for the elf. "Hey play something a bit more fitting." He tossed a jar of whisky at Satsu. Satsu caught the jar of whisky.

"Well I knoow a little diddy."

He played a simple and happy song.

"As I was goin' over Gilgarra Mountain
I spied Colonel Farrell, and his money he was countin'.
First I drew my pistols and then I drew my rapier,
Sayin' "Stand and deliver, for I am your bold deceiver."

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar

He counted out his money and it made a pretty penny;
I put it in my pocket to take home to darlin' Jenny.
She sighed and swore she loved me and never would deceive me,
But the devil take the women, for they always lie so easy

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar

I went into me chamber all for to take a slumber,
To dream of gold and girls, and of course it was no wonder:
Me Jenny took me charges and she filled them up with water,
Called on Colonel Farrell to get ready for the slaughter.

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar

Next mornin' early, before I rose for travel
A-came a band of footmen and likewise Colonel Farrell.
I goes to draw my pistol, for she'd stole away my rapier,
But a prisoner I was taken, I couldn't shoot the water.

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar

They put me into jail with a judge all a-writin':
Robbin' Colonel Farrell on Gilgarra Mountain.
But they didn't take me fists and I knocked the jailer down
And bid a farewell to this tight-fisted town.

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar

I'd like to find me brother, the one who's in the army;
I don't know where he's stationed, be it Cork or in Killarney.
Together we'd go roamin' o'er the mountains of Kilkenny,
And I swear he'd treat me fairer than my darlin' sportin' Jenny.

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar*

There's some takes delight in the carriages and rollin',
Some takes delight in the hurley or the bollin'
But I takes delight in the juice of the barley,
Courtin' pretty maids in the mornin', o so early.

Musha ringum duram da,*
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar"

"The song is good. However, you are not." A young man sitting alone at a table commented after the elf finished his song. He took another drink from his cup of water. He was wearing a red hooded cloak that made a little shadow over his face. A second after putting down his cup, he picked it up again and drank some.

"Every one is a critic." Satsu said as he took a drink of his whisky. He then started in on "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult.