((Heyo! Thought I’d revive one of my old ideas to get used to the new forums, as well as do some polishing on a newer character. As usual, be civil to each other–both IC and OOC. If for some reason someone can’t adhere to basic etiquette and common sense, they will receive a warning and/or be asked to leave depending on the severity of the offense.))
It was a clear day in the city of Boralus–the sun shining brightly and a good breeze to enable the ships to come and go as they wished. Sailors and dockhands scurried about busily, taking care of the day’s work leaving many of the local watering holes temporarily empty. One victim of such was the Captain’s Rest, a cheery-looking nautical themed inn with a worn sign hanging out front depicting a smiling pirate captain.
The indoors of the establishment was pristine, and tastefully decorated in typical Kul’tiran fashion. A rustic chandelier made from a ship’s wheel hung from the high ceiling, serving to light most of the upstairs and downstairs with the help of scattered oil lamps. A massive taxidermy shark was mounted on the mantle of the stone fireplace, while a hearty fire blazed within the rockwork. The sturdy wooden tables, although scuffed from many years of use, shone from their recent cleaning, as did the tentacle-embellished chairs. It certainly had the look of a popular establishment, though only two inhabitants were in sight–a scrawny-looking bartender with a neatly brushed mustache and beard, and a hulking bouncer playing cards at a corner table.
Bill sighed, rearranging the bottles of liquor stored on the shelves behind the bar for what must have been the hundredth time that day. Despite the cold outside, it had been an uneventful day, likely due to the sunny weather after last week’s storm. There had been some customers to put money in his coffers, of course, but none that really wanted to stick around and chat. There was the bouncer, Bob, of course, but Bob rarely had anything to say, even on the rare occasion he was drunk.
The ring of the doorbell broke Bill from his pining as a young male draenei stepped into the building. He was dressed in simple mail armor decorated with small polished stones, with a thick fur padding to keep in the warmth. His long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with facial hair neatly groomed and a small golden band inlaid with black onyx gracing one of the tendrils on his right. He didn’t seem to carry much for weapons, save for a crystalline mace at his right side and three small well-made totems hanging from the left side of his belt.
The draenei clopped over to the bar, tipping a nod to Bill and squinting as he surveyed the choice of beverages. His expression lit up as he pointed to a bottle containing a deep red liquid. “That one! I vill have that one, if you please!”