God Save the Farm II: The Return to the Tavern

[chesser2538]

Making your way in the world today
Takes everything you got
Taking a break from all your worries
It sure would help a lot
Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name
And they're always glad you came
You want to be where you can see
The troubles are all the same
You want to be where everybody knows your name
Cheers

The Hoghead Tavern

Alfarr stood behind a long wooden bar, watching as patrons slowly began to fill into the tavern for the night. Listening to the din of conversation and the crackle of a warm fire. Soon they would come. With the setting of the sun, the mine would close for the night and the ships would likely already be making for port. The Shopkeepers would be closing their doors and travelers from afar would be seeking shelter and a stiff drink.

The life of a barkeep was simple, and Alfarr enjoyed it. It was a far cry from his younger days as a crusader; fighting in the name of God to crush accursed Ayyubids. Though those times were best left forgotten, for nothing good had come of them. Near the front of the bar a bell chimes signaling more guests. It wouldn't be long now. Reaching under the bar Alfarr pulls out more tankards, readying for the night ahead.

[General Brewster]

Roger kicked down the door as terrible rains plagued the outside of the tavern. Due to the force the door closed right back in Roger's face as rain dripped from his nose. He kicked the door again but this time more mildly so it were to stay open this time. Roger stepped inside and gazed upon those who looked at him before he proceeded towards the bar.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Godfrey II lord of appears in the inn

[Barry Goldwater]

Svyatopolk the Ruthenian takes a long drop from his giant pigeon ride to crash in through the ceiling, having deemed himself literally above walking through the door like a normal person. From one side of the bearded proto-Cossack's belt hangs his twelve knives and three swords, while from the other hangs the scalps of a dozen fools who mistakenly referred to him as either a Pole or one of the 'Rus, and the long-ax & lance strapped to his back cushioned his fall when he crash-landed onto one of the tables. The pillow he wore under his mail would protect his chest when he inevitably bounced off said table to land front-first on the floor.

[Xion]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

In the a ruin of a forgotten village in the middle of a forest several miles to the west of the town the Hogshead tavern is located in, a group of bandits residing in the husks of houses, covered in vines and several with branches of trees growing into them as the process of the forest reclaiming the village carries on, look up as a eerie light contrasts with the dark grey sheet covering the sky while torrents of rain cascaded down upon the ruins, humans, and foilage. One bandit knocks and arrow and fires it up at the light, and is joined by several of his comrades for a second volley. "Oi, boss, it's gots to be the fault of those robe wearing nuts we saw!" "Didn't we kill them and feed the survivors to our wardogs?" "No, that was that priest!" "Loose!" Another volley is fired at the ominous light, as the boss comes out of the mostly intact hovel he resides in to stare up at the light. "See boss, those damn loons probably did this! We can hunt 'em down and sacrifice them to appease the gods!" The boss looks at the bandit, back to the light, then over at the idiots shooting arrows at it, back to the light, back to the two bandits in front of him, back to the light, and finally back to the bandits. "Round up the hounds, get those idiots to stop wastin' our arrows, and we're going huntin'!"

Two pillars of lights momentarily appear from the orb, touching the ground and then disappearing as quickly as they appeared, as the light begins to fade as well..
------

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

A local stickpicker/village idiot saw the bright light and with a screech of "REEEEEE! REEEEEEE!" ran into the village screeching the entire way, then charging into the Hogshead tavern, intending to have a dramatic entrance through the door, but another patron had apparently damaged the door so it remains open, so the fool just charges right through and into a wooden column. "REEEE!" The stickpicker, after recovering from his injury, begins ranting about the light in a incoherent tongue, then throws several sticks at the bartender, attempting to pay with sticks as he has likely done at the tavern numerous times before.

[Gandalfus]

King Timothy arrives and takes his seat, wincing as his sore backside rubs against the splintered stool. The infection was playing up again.

[Adamat]

A band of Polish Winged Hussars arrived, drinking every last drop of booze in sight

[Trot]

A thin merchant arrives over his shoulders the boar he slew with his sword. Blood leaked on to the Tavern floor as he throws the beast to the floor.

[chesser2538]

Hearing a loud bang, Alfarr looked up. Approaching from the other side of the tavern was a tall gruff older looking man, obviously cold and wet from his travels. Grabbing an empty tankard he gives the stranger a smile. "Yes, yes, what can I getcha?"

Later that evening another louder crash could be heard. Searching for its source Alfarr eyes a large bear of a man, sprawled out on the floor next to an oaken table who seemed to have remarkably appeared. Alfarr looks considerately at the open skylight for a moment before dismissing the idea as crazy. As the night drew on Alfarr would occasionally look to the fire, watching as the supply of wood slowly burned down, idly wondering when the damn village idiot would arrive. The man had one task, and it was not a hard one, surely he would get here soon.

Looking out the window Alfarr could see the last tendrils of light slipping below the horizon. Soon the bar would be packed. Turning around Alraff walked to the kitchen and opened the door. Inside two young men could be seen hunched over a barrel and the sound of dice clattering. "Borin that stew better be ready, Merek get out there and serve our guests or I will be serving you to our guests. The young man eyes the stew worriedly before running off into the tavern. Heading back toward the bar the sound of screeching could be heard, and seemed to be growing louder. Just then a man runs into the bar arms laden with firewood. Stopping he begins chunking pieces to the ground by Alfarrs feet. Sighing, Alfarr slowly picks them up and deposits them by the hearth before returning to the bar. Grabbing a tankard he quickly fills it with ale before placing it at the end of the counter.

A short time later another man enters the bar, this time bearing a recently killed hog. Alfarr watched distastefully as the man crossed the room with it before depositing it on the floor in the middle of the room. In a frustrated tone "Dontcha know to take that roun' back." looking down to the boar, and finding it acceptable he decides to let it pass."Will ya be wantin pay in gold or drink?"

[Xion]

"REEEEE!" The stickpicker exclaims, tossing the few pieces of felled timber he still had off to the side as he moves to grab the tankard of ale. He then drinks from it and heads to sit at one of the tables not occupied.

[Pontifex Maximus]

The Emperor of the Romans, Lord Spittle himself, demands homage from his vassals. He wields a 3 foot sausage threateningly to cow those before him into swearing allegiance.