The Town of Blackwater
Nov 10, 2018 21:57:31 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Nov 10, 2018 21:57:31 GMT -7
From the outside it looks pleasant, welcoming and well maintained. Clay and carved pillars make up most of the building's outer structure. It's impossible to see through the high windows, but the clapping and cheering from within can be felt outside.
As you enter the tavern through the thick, metal door, you're welcomed by joyful music and cheerful singing. The bartender is working up a sweat, but still manages to welcome you with a short wave. It's as charming inside as it is on the outside. Stone beams support the upper floor and the fans attached to them. The walls are full of paintings, judging by the style they're all done by 1 person, perhaps the owner..
The tavern itself is packed. Locals seem to be the primary clientele here, which often indicates great food. 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 clearly enjoy each other's company, though they seem to be strangers who have met here. 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 laughter, cheering and overall enjoyment of everybody, it's probably the people themselves who make this tavern famous. You manage to find a seat and prepare for what will undoubtedbly be a great evening.
This place once seemed to bring me a lot of happiness before I drowned. A place where men would come from all parts of the world to find their indulgences. Places like this were always where a man like myself made his living. People think the moment a crew dies is when a pirate slits your throat. They'd be wrong. It was in a bar where money changed hands in low torch light. Where the clatter of goblets and tankards, the cheers and roars all fed into that strange boastful energies.
"A Toast to the Neptune! The courser of mist!" Cheers and congratulations on their first big break. They had just dropped off a big shipment at port and were about to head back to their homeland. So much information, only a drop of water in a large pond. That information would secure me the capital I'd need to move forwards. But it would only be to serve my true purpose. I needed a ship. I needed to go after my crew and even with these new... adaptations of mine. I still couldn't outswim a sailing vessel.
Yes... Adaptations. Thought the sharkman. Fierce angry eyes peered from above a red bandana. Across the bandana a white pattern, jagged like shark teeth grinning stretched back. Ironically, behind the mask was a similar image. Only this would be for real. My own real rows of shark teeth set behind a grimace. Across my shirt was a quilted doublet and my trousers. My sword harness at my wip and my cutlass attached to it along with a small harpoon at my side.
I walked into the room. My eyes narrowing into the tavern keeper. I'd order a whiskey and wait to be served. Waiting... And listening for anything interesting.
As you enter the tavern through the thick, metal door, you're welcomed by joyful music and cheerful singing. The bartender is working up a sweat, but still manages to welcome you with a short wave. It's as charming inside as it is on the outside. Stone beams support the upper floor and the fans attached to them. The walls are full of paintings, judging by the style they're all done by 1 person, perhaps the owner..
The tavern itself is packed. Locals seem to be the primary clientele here, which often indicates great food. 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 clearly enjoy each other's company, though they seem to be strangers who have met here. 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 laughter, cheering and overall enjoyment of everybody, it's probably the people themselves who make this tavern famous. You manage to find a seat and prepare for what will undoubtedbly be a great evening.
This place once seemed to bring me a lot of happiness before I drowned. A place where men would come from all parts of the world to find their indulgences. Places like this were always where a man like myself made his living. People think the moment a crew dies is when a pirate slits your throat. They'd be wrong. It was in a bar where money changed hands in low torch light. Where the clatter of goblets and tankards, the cheers and roars all fed into that strange boastful energies.
"A Toast to the Neptune! The courser of mist!" Cheers and congratulations on their first big break. They had just dropped off a big shipment at port and were about to head back to their homeland. So much information, only a drop of water in a large pond. That information would secure me the capital I'd need to move forwards. But it would only be to serve my true purpose. I needed a ship. I needed to go after my crew and even with these new... adaptations of mine. I still couldn't outswim a sailing vessel.
Yes... Adaptations. Thought the sharkman. Fierce angry eyes peered from above a red bandana. Across the bandana a white pattern, jagged like shark teeth grinning stretched back. Ironically, behind the mask was a similar image. Only this would be for real. My own real rows of shark teeth set behind a grimace. Across my shirt was a quilted doublet and my trousers. My sword harness at my wip and my cutlass attached to it along with a small harpoon at my side.
I walked into the room. My eyes narrowing into the tavern keeper. I'd order a whiskey and wait to be served. Waiting... And listening for anything interesting.