* Any medieval character may join *
* DnDish characters welcome (elves, drows, dwarves...) (palladins, merchants, rangers, rogues, bards, mages...)*
* Celtic gods, Norse warlords welcome *
* Pirates, lords, knights, lords, beggars all welcome *
* 3rd person past tense narrative*
* No furries or too OP characters *
* Magic permitted in RP but use it discreetly*
The warm glow of flickering candles danced on the walls of Loki's Tavern, a cozy establishment nestled in the heart of the bustling city of Camelot. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air, mingling with the faint notes of ale and laughter that echoed within its sturdy wooden walls.
Behind the polished oak bar stood Gwen, the taverner, known for her quick wit and welcoming smile. With adept hands, she expertly poured drinks and served hearty meals to a diverse crowd of patrons—travelers, adventurers, and locals alike. But there was always a sense of anticipation in the air, as whispers of mischief followed one particular guest.
Loki, the trickster god, graced the tavern with his charm and unpredictability. His arrival, usually marked by a flourish and a sparkle of mischief in his eye, stirred a mix of excitement and uncertainty among the regulars. Gwen understood Loki like few others; she deftly navigated his whims, balancing the needs of her customers with the unpredictable antics of the god himself.
As the evening sun set, casting a golden hue over the tavern, the wooden door creaked open, heralding the arrival of characters and stories waiting to unfold. It was another lively night at Loki's Tavern, where laughter, intrigue, and perhaps a hint of chaos awaited.
Gwen looked up from the counter, putting down the tankard of silver that she was polishing for the more distinguished guests, the wooden ones already laid out, dried and ready to be used.
She looked up curious about the the next patrons that might cross the door and what they would want, what they would look like or ask about, after all, if she had one reputation, it was the abundant gossip and rare sightings and fresh news not often heard anywhere else that made her tavern popular with travellers and regular patrons alike
* DnDish characters welcome (elves, drows, dwarves...) (palladins, merchants, rangers, rogues, bards, mages...)*
* Celtic gods, Norse warlords welcome *
* Pirates, lords, knights, lords, beggars all welcome *
* 3rd person past tense narrative*
* No furries or too OP characters *
* Magic permitted in RP but use it discreetly*
The warm glow of flickering candles danced on the walls of Loki's Tavern, a cozy establishment nestled in the heart of the bustling city of Camelot. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air, mingling with the faint notes of ale and laughter that echoed within its sturdy wooden walls.
Behind the polished oak bar stood Gwen, the taverner, known for her quick wit and welcoming smile. With adept hands, she expertly poured drinks and served hearty meals to a diverse crowd of patrons—travelers, adventurers, and locals alike. But there was always a sense of anticipation in the air, as whispers of mischief followed one particular guest.
Loki, the trickster god, graced the tavern with his charm and unpredictability. His arrival, usually marked by a flourish and a sparkle of mischief in his eye, stirred a mix of excitement and uncertainty among the regulars. Gwen understood Loki like few others; she deftly navigated his whims, balancing the needs of her customers with the unpredictable antics of the god himself.
As the evening sun set, casting a golden hue over the tavern, the wooden door creaked open, heralding the arrival of characters and stories waiting to unfold. It was another lively night at Loki's Tavern, where laughter, intrigue, and perhaps a hint of chaos awaited.
Gwen looked up from the counter, putting down the tankard of silver that she was polishing for the more distinguished guests, the wooden ones already laid out, dried and ready to be used.
She looked up curious about the the next patrons that might cross the door and what they would want, what they would look like or ask about, after all, if she had one reputation, it was the abundant gossip and rare sightings and fresh news not often heard anywhere else that made her tavern popular with travellers and regular patrons alike
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