The Bleeding Lute is a square three story wooden building with a hanging wooden sign outside the front double doors. The sign depicts a lute that has been cracked open and red rose petals fall out of the middle. Stables are located around the backside of the Inn.
A check-in desk sits to the right immediately after you walk in. A wiry older gentleman with a floppy red hat sits behind it with his feet up on the counter reading. A sign that sits next to him reads “Rooms Available”. To the left stands a long oak bar with a serving window directly behind it that shows a glimpse of the kitchen. A curvy black haired woman stands behind it tending bar. At the back center is a stage; to the right and half way up the building is a stone fireplace. The room has 11 rounds tables and one long community table. A fair young woman and a dark haired young man float around the room tending to the patrons. A fairly tall, armed, redheaded male half elf watches the room.
There are stairs to the second floor just past the front desk. A door on the left past the bar proves to be the entrance to the bath house. Fresh towels and hot water are available upon request, along with unscented or lavender scented soap.
A small library is located on this floor where the fireplace runs up the length of the building. This room is comfortably furnished with a few plush arm chairs, and love seat, and a thick blue rug. Three small tables are positioned around the room; one contains a half finished chess game. Two walls are taken up with book shelves; the others have maps hanging on them. A small cupboard reveals a few more board games.
Single and double rooms are available, in addition to sleeping on a pallet in the common room. There is also one suite available on the third floor. Single and Double rooms all have small wardrobes, bed stands, and chamber pots. The suite comes complete with copper bath tub, fresh flower arrangements, canopy bed, and full length mirror.
What’s always on tap:
Mahogany (House Beer - Stout)
Henry – The owner. Tall, wiry, mouse brown hair with an ever present red floppy hat. Henry is a straight forward kind of guy, who is very proud of his business. “This is my establishment, I will have no fighting, no stealing, and no destruction of property!” although what happens at the Lute doesn’t necessarily mean that it’ll adhere to his rules Though gruff on the surface, he really is a pleasant and accommodating man.
Maria – The Bartender. A Curvy, dark haired woman with a really easy demeanor to go along with her bartending sass. She has a tendency to call everyone “Hon”.
Cookie – The Cook. Tall and muscular with a 5 o’clock shadow and short brown hair, Cookie is built like a wall. He has tattoos up his arms, and rarely speaks. On the inside, he’s gooey, showing a particular soft spot for kids.
Sarah – Barmaid . She is a fair haired, light skinned wisp of a woman who is extremely efficient at her job, but very nervous.
Hugh – Wait staff. Well, part time wait staff. This mildly handsome young man with an expanding girth enjoys drinking and dancing with the patrons. He is often seen in ratty shirts with expensive looking vests.
Murph – Security. Murph is a heavily armed, lean redheaded half elf, who speaks to no one. Need I say more?
Posted on 2011-02-15 at 17:25:11.
Edited on 2011-02-26 at 05:05:30 by Celeste
A middle aged man sits at the stage with a pile of instruments. He invites anyone who can play to come up and have a ‘jam session’.
Three tables have patrons seated around them.
The first has the following seated around it. A fairly aged half-orc wearing studded leather. He has dark gray hair and a bearded face. An older halfling wearing black clothing. He has curly hair and a tanned face. An elderly dwarven fighter wearing chainmail. She has graying hair and a sullen face. A half-orc wearing foodstained clothing. He has light gray hair and a dirt-smeared face. An immature looking gnome wearing muddy clothing. He has mousey brown hair and a frightened face. They are examining a map.
The second table has a fat male dwarf dressed in all red and a human male wearing robes who are talking loudly.
The third table has a one eyed male gnome merchant, a young female gnome, and an angry looking half elf male, who are speaking in hushed tones.
No one sits at the bar.
Posted on 2011-02-15 at 17:25:45.
Edited on 2011-02-15 at 17:39:57 by Celeste
Steelight Sage of the Realms Karma: 44/9 1024 Posts
The suite is MINE!
The door to the Bleeding Lute opens to reveal a cloaked and hooded figure. It is strange to see such a thing on a day when the sun is shining and no cloud at all presents a blemish on the clear sky.
Almost without a sound he walks up to the wiry man at the desk.
"I'd like a room." He says in melodic tones. "The best available if you please."
He reaches out dropping two pieces of platinum on the counter before him from his gloved hand.
His eyes go wide at the rare coins. "Well of course sir." The wiry old man says. Quickly he reaches under the table and produces a key.
"My room is not to be disturbed. I believe the coins I gave you should account for your trouble in meeting this request."
"Sure it will sir. Is there anything more I can get for you?"
"Yes. Send up some hot water, a glass or two of your mulled wine and some of those chicken skewers as well. And please be sure that there is soap available will you?"
"Of course sir. Right away sir."
Without another word the man turns and heads up the stairs, obviously knowing his way around the place.
An hour later he returns clean and well dressed. The cloak and cowl were left in his room alongside his traveling clothes. His skin is as dark as midnight. His intense eyes take in all of the Lute's patrons, instinctively analyzing each of them for strengths and weaknesses. He is clad in rich black silk trimmed with azure. He makes almost no sound as he moves gracefully to a nearby empty table. Even an untrained eye can see that he moves with the practiced precision of a dancer, or perhaps an acrobat. He sits quietly, and leans his chair back against the wall. With a wave of his hand he orders another of the Lute's excellent mulled wine.
Posted on 2011-02-15 at 18:33:59.
Edited on 2011-02-26 at 07:39:30 by Steelight
The newcomer to the Inn might notice a slight commotion coming from a corner table. A young woman, dressed like one of the staff here, is sitting on the lap of a man who is whispering in her ear. The young girl, a fair-haired, light skinned woman, must like what she hears because she smiles and then giggles as she struggles playfully as if to escape the man’s clutches.
“I must get to work,” the girl says and continues to struggle but not too hard it seems. The man only laughs and hangs on to her with both of his arms around her waist.
A throat clearing attracts the man’s attention, he looks over and spots a large redheaded Half elf standing over near the bar, he gives the man a faint smirk and then shakes his head at the scene.
The man returns the smirk and then with a chuckle he holds on to the girl for a moment longer and then lets her go with a flourish. As the girl gets up the man slaps her playfully on the behind and a loud slap is heard through the Inn.
“Very well, Girl” the man says in a smooth baritone voice which carries a faint accent that seems hard to place; it gives hints of a northern origin yet the tone carries a definite sound of refinement, “but I will see you later.”
The man looks back at the large half elf and nods, lifting his drink in a salute to the man. The half elf, who appears to be some sort of bouncer for this establishment, lifts a tankard in response.
The girl removed from his lap, the guy can now be clearly seen. A well muscled, but not overly so, man of average height. His dark hair was slightly curvy and hung to his shoulders; he had a dark full mustache that stopped at the corners of his mouth. His face had a boyish cheerful quality that apparently the young barmaid found attractive. His dark eyes, appeared to be a hazel but hard to be sure at a distance, regarded the room as he sipped his drink.
His clothing was elegant yet effective; his upper torso was covered by a polished black studded leather tunic over equally tanned leather trousers. High polished black leather boots adorned his feet as he sat back with one boot resting up on the chair next to him.
An elegant and expensive looking rapier with 3-ring silvered hilt and a gold highlighted pommel hangs from an elaborate scallop shell hanger at his left side. The only other weapon in evident is a elegant topped dagger protruding slightly from the top of his right boot.
His eyes scanning the room pass over the newcomer and pause and then a faint smile comes to his lips and he raises his glass, half filled with some kind of brownish liquor, in greeting before taking another sip.
Andrew pushed open the door and headed straight to the bar, in a single motion.
Without further ado he collapsed into a chair, dropping his rucksack on the floor unceremoniously and leaning back.
It was a long road to Firetop Mountain, and he was sure that even wiht the guidance of Rhalina he was sure to get lost a few times, and undoubtedly arrive just too late.
But it wasn't the time to be worrying about that. As the barmaid brought his drink over his belly rumbled, and priorities became clear.
"What food do you serve?" he asked the barmaid as she left.
"Today is a spicy fish soup, we also have beef roast and-"
"Beef roast sounds fine, thanks."
"Of course, sir," Sarah finished as she walked away.
Andrew's gaze settled on the man with the stack of instruments... it had always been Andrew's dream to make music. However, the only instrument he knew how to play was the bread oven or the bandage; however he HAD played a bread board when he was young, helping a local bard by giving rythmn.
He smiled as the man caught his eye, and a wink was returned.
He took a swig of his mead - not a very good mead, but it had been a long time since he had had some, so he was glad to have it - and leaned back in his chair with a big grin, shutting his eyes.
Posted on 2011-02-25 at 16:13:45.
Edited on 2011-02-26 at 16:11:03 by Darren
Come mid-afternoon, The Bleeding Lute’s doorway opened, again, and the damp chill of the late spring day outside ushered another patron across the threshold and into the warmer embrace of the inn’s main hall. The new visitor stopped just inside and, as the door whispered shut at his back, leaned wearily on the gnarled, rune graven staff he carried in one slender hand. A tangled veil of unkempt, raven-hued locks spilled forth from the shadowed depths of the weather-damp cowl and, from behind that veil, a pair of ice-colored eyes slowly (yet somehow tentatively) surveyed the room before him. Droplets of rain trickled from what remained of the hem of the creature’s tattered, patchwork cloak to collect in tiny puddles around muddy, travel-worn boots that were obviously too large for the feet which they encased as, working from back to front, that pale gaze nervously took in each living figure and face sheltered within the tavern…
The wiry man at the desk cleared his throat after what might have been an overlong moment, interrupting the curious man’s silent perusal of the place. “Somethin’ I can help you with, lad,” he asked.
The creature’s gaze abandoned its slow sweep of the place, turning quickly to regard the man in silence for a long moment. Then, as its fingers flexed around the staff and the body beneath the threadbare cloak also turned toward the desk, the creature’s head cocked curiously to one side as if in some sort of sudden recognition… “Your name is… Henry,” a hushed voice asked (or had it been a statement?) from the depths of the cowl.
The man in the red hat nodded slowly… once… and stared back into the shadows from which those colorless eyes regarded him. “Aye,” he answered, offering nothing more.
The creature mirrored the nod; “I was told that you… have a library, here?”
Henry nodded again; “Of a sort.” Despite the ragged, beggar-like, and far from physically imposing appearance, there was something just a little off-putting… no… spooky… about this one, and the innkeep found it difficult to hold the man’s gaze. Mercifully, he didn’t have to for long
“Good,” the quiet voice answered as those pale eyes drifted away of their own volition, seemingly following the progress of another patron across the tavern – except, where his eyes went, there was no living person to be seen. “I should like a room, then,” the vagabond continued, “if you have one available.”
The innkeep arched a brow at that and, skeptically eyed the waiflike figure for a moment before offering one more nod. “If you’ve got the coin to pay, lad,” he said, “I’ve got one available.”
A soft laughter issued from within the cowl, then, and a second hand emerged from beneath the patchwork cloak and deposited a silver coin on the desktop. “That should be enough, should it not… for a night or two?”
Henry’s lips curled into a somewhat surprised smile and he reached for his ledger. “It should,” he agreed, opening the ledger with one hand and sweeping the coin off the desk with the other, “What’s your name, lad?”
“Jal,” the traveler answered, “Jal Spellbinder.”
((OOC: Just a little bit to get started... more to come, I'm sure...))
A man at a corner table looked up from his drink as a man entered and went straight to the bar.
He silently watched the man made himself comfortable and ordered food. The man seemed to have traveled awhile and was enjoying his repose.
The man’s eyes turned again to the doorway as another newcomer entered. He watched the cloaked figure with the staff as he walked in and paused to look about the room. When the newcomer’s gaze passed over the man he dipped his head slightly to him and lifted his glass of brownish liquid in a greeting.
He didn’t stare at the newcomers but he did glance whenever anyone spoke aloud and drew his attention. He couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the newcomer, who called himself Jal Spellbinder, and Henry the Lute’s owner. He raised and eyebrow an a faint smile came to his lips at something he heard; he quietly sipped his drink.
Sarah the barmaid came out of the kitchen and came over to the man’s table; she smiled as she came up and set a plate and a bowl before him.
“Here ya go sweetie,” Sarah said with a smile and a wink.
“Thank you doll” he said and looked at the fine plate of Spicy Fish and a bowl of Lentil Soup, “Mmmm looks great!”
He looked back up at her and smiled, “I will make sure to save room for dessert.” The man grinned at her and smacked her firmly on her behind as she whirled around with a giggle and sauntered back into the kitchen.
The man turned to his meal starting with the delicious smelling Lentil Soup.
Maria gave Sarah a reproachful look, watching the girl hop away from a patron, before going back to her duties. At least she brings in good money. She began making preparations for the evening to come. It was the night for that lay about Hugh to come in; even so, she needed to get a head in order to stay on top of things.
She dodged a pinch from one of the regulars and began making her own rounds of the room, starting with the table that Sarah had previously been occupying. Maria set a hand on the surface in front of the dark haired man with the moustache.
“Get you anything, hon? How’s that soup treating you?”
As the evening wore on, more farmers began to trickle in from outside. It was obvious from their dripping clothes that the rain had gotten worse. Mud tracks began to crisscross across the Lute’s wooden floors. Many ordered whiskey ‘for medicinal purposes’ to shake off the bitter chill. A few eyes take in the newcomers' faces, but none stay for too long in order to avoid attention. All except one.
A withered old elf sits in a corner booth. His eyes are slightly bulged, and their gray irises have a certain light behind them. It’s hard to tell whether its brilliance or madness. His receding hair is shock white, and he wears rather plain linen robes. On the table sits a delicately made silver goblet, along with an untouched bowl of stew. His gaze is focused on the dark skinned man wearing the black silk, and he makes no attempt to hide the fact that he is staring.
After returning the wink to the man with rucksack, Tom decided to pick up the pace of his music. He began singing a rather lewd song called “The Cock in the Well”. Though have some rather strong innuendos about a rooster, the tune turns out to be about two young lovers being found by the girl’s father, and the boy, who is still naked, jumping down a well to escape her father’s wrath. As the bard continues to get louder with each passing verse, some of the patrons begin singing out the chorus.
The song finished and there was a small uproar from the crowd, with several whistles and thumping of the tables. Tom leaned back with a grin on his face.
“Anyone fancy singing for a spell? I’ve got a harp here that’s itchin’ to be played, an’ sometimes she and I don’t get along too well if I start opening my mouth.”
A small dark haired gnome trudged in from the outside downpour. She had something tightly wrapped in her cloak and pressed against her body.
Henry looked up from his book and muttered, “Evening, Lorelei.”
“Evening Henry. Am I still even in your books?”
“And then some, dear. Meal upstairs again?”
She gave him a warm smile, “Yes, thank you.”
After a quick stop at the bar, Lorelei was laden down with a tray that included a steaming teapot, mug, cream, and a small jar of honey. The teapot shuddered and threatened to tip over as she made her way up the stairs. The hallway was not well lit, and little puffs of dust issued from the carpet. The gnome backed her way into the library, and carefully set down her tray. From within her cloak she produced a large leather bound book covered in symbols gilded in gold. With a small word, her hand lit on fire. The flames caressed the long fingers that extended out of her palm, and she used these to light not only the oil lamps in the room, but also the fireplace in the corner. Once she was satisfied with the amount of lighting, she sat down at her table and proceeded to a marked page in the book.
Posted on 2011-02-26 at 03:42:21.
Edited on 2011-02-27 at 03:34:04 by Celeste
Maria set a hand on the surface in front of the dark haired man with the moustache.
“Get you anything, hon? How’s that soup treating you?”
Having finished the last of the Lentil soup as the bartender Maria came up and enquired if he required anything else; he pushed the empty bowl away.
“My complements to the cook,” he said with a smile, “that soup was the best I have ever had.”
Lifting his glass, he drained the last swallow of the brownish liquor and handed her the glass.
“If you could get me another of your fine scotch I would greatly appreciate it, Dear!” He said as he reached into his pouch and laid a single gold piece on the table to pay for his meal and his drinks.
Maria had no doubt seen the man since he checked in the night before; he had taken a single room upstairs and paid for a week in advance. Apparently the man had business in the area and planned to stay awhile. She didn’t recall his entire name but she had overheard when he checked in with Henry yesterday. It was Jack… something.
While she went to fetch his refill, he turned to the Spicy fish and made a very satisfied ‘yummy’ sound as he tasted the flaky fish which was seasoned to perfection.
When the inquiry came for singing, he made no reply. He had no gift for song though he enjoyed hearing other more talented folks.
He heard the door again and looked expecting to see more of the farmers enter as it seemed to be the norm this time of day; instead he saw a female Gnome enter and talk with Henry. He continued to eat his fish and only a slightly raised eyebrow showed his interest was piqued at the sight of her. He watched as the gnome went upstairs carrying a trap and something else tucked away under her cloak apparently. He returned his attention back to his meal and waited to hear some of the musical entertainment to come.
The baking board successfully borrowed, Andrew took a chair next to the musician.
Sat with the baking board between his legs and held in place, he began tapping a rhythm. Quite a simple rhythm, but lively and upbeat.
((OOC: Okay, first gaming post, and I hope I'm doing it right. Using an alt.verse of an old character. Here goes nothing!))
The door the the Bleeding Lute opened, bringing with it the slight form of what seemed to be a child. The girl stepped up to the desk and looked up at Henry, her eyes wide and smiling.
Henry wouldn't say that he was used to seeing Drow, but he had seen them. They weren't regular to The Lute, but they did happen in every so often. He could tell by the silver hair and the gray skin that this child was certainly a Drow, though the eyes threw him off. Spring green eyes and a happy smile to accompany it? That was an odd one. Perhaps a Drow half breed, though the idea was almost laughable. What Drow would deign to mate with one of a different race? The girl appeared to be only nine or ten years of age, and with no bust to speak of it was hard to dispute.
"What can I do for you miss?" he asked. He tried to be a bit more wary, but the girl continued to smile so innocently that he couldn't be bothered to worry about the likes of her.
"I was wondering if there was a chance to stay here tonight?" she asked, her voice melodic and cheerful.
"Of course you can, darling. Are you here with anyone?"
She shook her head solemnly, her green eyes closed. Her silver hair swished back and forth, the braid that ran along the center moving with the rest. Henry could see now that the girls hair easily went down to her calves.
Henry was ready to offer the girl a room for free, but she was almost too well dressed to not have any money on her person. A nice white sleeveless blouse with trimming that faded from red/pink to purple to blue adorned her top and she wore a full length skirt of similar material to her trim.
"Well, it costs five copper a night, you see. Now that includes dinner should you want it."
The girl smiled and pulled a silver piece from Henry didn't even know where, handing it to him gracefully. He took it, mouth barely agape, and handed her a small key on a leather thong. She took it with a smile, said thank you, and glided into the bar room.
She had been hearing the music, and it was making her itch to dance along. With a wide smile she stood just inside the doorway and watched the performers, her eyes alight with happiness.
Having finished his meal; the dark haired man at the corner table sat enjoying the music much like the rest of the patrons though he didn’t clap along to the beat. He sat sipping a dark liquor from a short clear glass as he watched the performance; a faint smile on his lips showed that he found the show entertaining.
Movement at the doorway caught his attention and he turned his dark hazel eyes to the small figure that stood in the doorway to the room and the man raised an eyebrow. He reached up and brushed a wavy lock of his shoulder length hair from his face as he studied the small figure which to his eyes looked like a Drow female. The wide smile upon her lips and the light in her eyes spoke of her enjoyment of the performance as well.
The man smirked slightly at the sight; it had been awhile since he had seen a Drow and that one had been at the end of his sword. It seemed this establishment attracted all kinds of patrons; he doubted that this little one was here to cause any trouble as she seemed an odd one. He cant ever remember seeing a Drow smile except when they were involved in torture and killing of others.
After several more minutes of watching the two men play music, the young Drow couldn't resist. She skipped up to the stage and bounded on it in a graceful jump. As she landed she began to dance along to the music, her hair flowing behind her like a silver river.
Her eyes shut, she let herself move in time to the music. her lithe figure silhouetted against the wood of the wall. Soon small balls of light in purple danced around with her, giving her performance more body, almost looking professional.
Her dancing was not confined to the stage, and soon she was dancing among the patrons. Her eyes open to make sure that she didn't run into anyone, their green glimmered in the firelight, her smile sincere and full of laughter.
The dark haired man at the corner table watched the musicians performance and when the young Drow girl jumped upon the stage and began to dance about his expression grew perplexed at first and then her enthusiasm became infectious and he smiled and watched her dance. She seemed to enjoy it so much that her being one of the hated race was almost forgotten.
He sat sipping his drink and watched the dancing; at ease among patrons even in the presence of Drow whom he has always thought of as the Enemy.