A Rowdy Saloon
Just inside the swinging double doors, a constant roar of laughter, arguing,
and mindless shouting fill the saloon. Beyond the near-blinding cloud of
smoke, you see men of various races and sizes going about their business or
participating in some recreation. Sales and trade negotiations can be
overheard, while some play poker for large stacks of coins. Along the
upstairs railing, saloon girls call down to you, their offers enticing. In
the corner, a tiny human man plays a little number on his rough looking
piano. Amongst the roughness, a straight-faced bartender watches you with
caution. Not once does he break his gave upon you as he shines a glass in his
hands to perfection and places it on the shelf below the counter. He
apparently considers you no threat, as he proceeds to wipe down the counter.
(Blue Aura)A long polished bar stretches along the southern wall.
Look bar altar
Wow! Wylin's world famous bar! Behind it sits the required ingredients for every type of drink imaginable. How could one person possess such an impressive bar? Wylin must have friends in every imaginable part of the world to find this supply. Looking across the labels, you notice some unfamiliar names, finding perhaps a kind of drink only the Gods can conjure. The Enforcers must certainly have a good time here!
the Golden Mark of the Enforcers Look Mark: This badge is proudly worn to show people the Enforcers have pride and honor
The bartender eyes you carefully. As he goes about doing his normal tending duties, you approach the counter and request a frosty beverage. He obliges and hands you the drink, fresh from the tap behind him. After consumption is complete, you flip a coin to him. He catches it perfectly and it vanishes out of his hands. This is clearly a man who knows what he's doing, and has been doing it for the longest time.
The bar itself is perfectly stocked and well-kept. Every nook and cranny of the solid oak shelves and counter, as well as the things resting on them, is polished to perfection. *BANG* *CRASH* - Uh Oh, another argument results in the untimely destruction of a glass on the shelves. Spinning around, you find no certain culprit; any one of these beasts could have done it.
Turning back around to mind your own business, the bartender notices your excitement about the rowdiness, and points to a framed sign on the wall which lists the rules of conduct to you before you go diving into the activity yourself.
More glass windows peer to the outside. As expected, more glass is broken out, but something is different about these broken windows. This time, it appears the glass is broken in the shape of a dwarf, who must've gotten a bit too rowdy for this crowd. Imagine that! A small chair or two lay in a pile below the broken window, probably the result of the brawl that led to the dwarf's forced exit.
Glass windows, some of them broken out, meet from the corner to corner at the gated entrance. The double doors swing with a passing breeze. Patrons frequently pass through them, either on their way in to relax or returning to their respective business outside.
Just then, a large ogre stomps out of the saloon past you with a grunt and a push. The double doors swing to a close behind him, stirring up a bit of a breeze. The air blows to your attention the 'Reward' signs tacked all around the exit. Studying them, you see some folks that look vaguely familiar. The last and highest-paying one is a large, angry looking guy.
WAIT A MINUTE!
You rush to the doors, but find him long gone.
The rail-thin man at the piano seems lost in his own world. That's probably for the best, because such a small man would certainly be broken in half in no time flat if he rubbed one of these rowdy patrons the wrong way. Perhaps he already has, as you can see large sword gashes all along the edges of the piano! He seems not to notice anything around him, only playing the tune inscribed on the large bronze plaque attached to the instrument. 'OHHHHHHHH!' A simultaneous roar of excitement followed by laughter comes from a far table, as a surprising winning hand is laid down to take the jackpot in an exciting poker game.
Above the piano is a line of stuffed animal heads, displayed proudly as the trophies of Wylin's mortal adventures. Many of them are of creatures that only the toughest and most rugged of adventurers could attain. Proudly displayed in the center of all of them is a giant stuffed cat, posed in a menacing attack position.
A grand brass chandelier dominates the air above you, having space for dozens of candles in it. Not all of the holders have candles, as some appear to have been knocked off by things as they flew dangerously through the air from a scuffle. Following it upward, a very non-descript white ceiling stands two stories above you, untouched by mortal hands. Funny though, if you look close enough, you're pretty sure you can see a spatter of blood here and there. That must've been some fight! 'AHHHHAHAHAHA!' A loud roar of dwarven laughter breaks your concentration of the spots.
As your line of sight casually trails southward, your attention is caught by the voluptuous women upstairs, all standing in front of open rooms or along the upstairs railing above the bar. Many lean far over the railing to call to you with their, ehrm... assets. One particularly sexy one takes out a scarf and leans out to drop it down to you. You badly want to take it up to her, but then again, you'd like to do it for all of the others too. Picking out the best looking girl is a hard task, so to be a fair judge you decide to get a closer look at each of them in the near future.
A once beautiful wooden floor is now worn and scuffed by the large volume of patron traffic. Many things can be found along the floor, including wooden splinters of all sizes and shapes; scraps of paper with unrecognizable figures scribbled onto them; and most commonly broken glass, crushed cans, and bottle tops. Just then, a playing card is blown up to your feet by an incoming breeze. As your attention wanders, you also notice some interesting boards near the bar.
LOOK boards board
Near the end of the bar, you spy an odd sight; a set of hinges appear to be fashioned into a trap door of sorts. You see no mortal way of prying the secret exit open, as there is no handle or place to slip a wedge underneath. Just then, it hits you. Lord Wylin is a dwarf, and dwarves mine and tunnel by nature. Or, perhaps an escape route for the small adventurer? You smile to yourself and dismiss it from your mind.
LOOK framed frame sign rules
A large sign is framed next to the bar. On it are the written rules of Wylin's Enforcers. In a magical language for all races to understand and read are the words of Lord Wylin. They are:
Rules of the Enforcers:
1) Entry Requirements: To begin, you must be in good standing with the Enforcers and have at least 125 natural mana. After meeting these requirements, Lord Wylin reserves the right to send you on an entry quest to test your worth.
2) Attacks: Permission to attack others is on an alignment basis as follows:
Evil: Always fair game, regardless of justification.
Neutral: Safe from attack unless deemed an enemy following by Lord Wylin.
Good: Do not attack under any circumstances. Evils who become good are granted forgiveness unless they continue their evil actions. This single justification for attacking a good player is declared ONLY by Lord Wylin.
All of these rules also apply to haunting and stealing. Any attacks, PKs, hauntings, or theft should be immediately reported to Lord Wylin via board notes or the forums. If you kill someone, do not smack talk. It just detracts from the game and no one wants to hear it. If you must smack talk any other time, keep it strictly to ftell.
3) Trading: You may trade with whomever you wish. Lord Wylin trusts your judgment, so prove him right. However, if trading with an evil or someone you think may not be completely trustworthy, use good judgment and caution (a trusted intermediary is never a bad idea.) If Lord Wylin finds out that you did not honor a trade request yourself, you WILL be slain by him and the person you wronged will get their items or as close to an equivalent as was originally planned.
4) TFC Rules: All TFC rules are to be obeyed. If you have a question regarding a gray area, do not do it until you have it cleared by another follower who knows for sure, Lord Wylin, or another immortal. If you witness something you think is not right, cmdlog or commlog the potential offender and yourself (see HELP CMDLOG and HELP COMMLOG for more information.) If you break the rules or tread in the gray areas, Lord Wylin will gladly break you and tread in your gray areas. This is a great game, remember it's here to have fun playing!
Final Words Of Wisdom: Fighting evil is not an easy task, so always think of ways you can contribute to the following. If you are looking for a refuge from the pking scene... This isn't it!
You pick up the card at your feet, finding it to be the valuable ace of spades. As you consider stashing it away for future use during a high-stakes game, an angry half-elf storms up to you and rips it from your hand before returning to his table’s game.
LOOK piano plaque bronze
The Elfy Song! By Oook (c)2599 [Originally composed for drums.]
[Play a fun little scale on the piano, then:]
(sing) Them say them silly elfies, them make the bestest stuff, All frilly with them laces, and poofy with them fluff, But us ogres know much better, me have tried it out me-self, The bestest stuff from elfy-land am stuff what made with elf!
[Improvise a jaunty tune, then:]
(sing) Them say them silly elfies, them dance so shiny right, All slinky in them dresses, and pretty in moon light, But us ogres know much better, me have tried it out me-self, The bestest dance in elfy-land am dance called Squish The Elf!
[Pound out a snappy little intro for the next stanza, then:]
(sing) Them say them silly elfies, them sing with voices fine, All strummy with them luties, and lots of words what rhyme, But us ogres know much better, me have tried it out me-self The bestest sound in elfy-land am screech of fleeing elf!
[Stomp your feet in time with the music, then sing again.]
(sing) So do not trust them elfies, them know not of what them speak, Them think them best at everything, but really them just stink, Us ogres, though, us know the truth, and now the world know. too, The bestest way to serve them elfs is in a good elf stew!
[Run your hands along the ivory keys to a finish, stand, and bow!]
LOOK cat head heads
As you look at the cat, the bartender gets a sudden, strange grin on his face.
"Ah" he says, "There is quite a story behind that there cat!"
He begins into such a vivid retelling of the story you can imagine Natilena herself telling the tale.
This is my tale of thieves and cats and of an epic battle. It began one slow morning, I was in a mind to be killing goblins and was happily chopping the never ending hordes to bits when a call came to me through the network of thieves. It was Boromir, a worthy adversary of topics of teasing and mirth. A conversation between thieves slowly meandered, as these things often do, onto the topic of cats. Boromir's cat to be exact. Boromir claiming his cat's wisdom and powerful nature could only result in one thing, me offering to backstab it. Little did I realize the impish powers of the realm had heard my boastful threat and conjured the cat into my presence. Small it seemed to me, a simple thing with grayish fur and a black striped tail.
Snickering softly to myself at its small apparent size I readied my trusty rapier and with all my might approached the cat and just as I had promised, sunk it into the back of the surprised cat. It was then I learned this cat had claws. The battle ensued deep within the goblin's stronghold. the cat held powers beyond imagining, striking out at me with every chance it got. Finally, battered by the strength of the cat's magical assault I fled, blinded and wounded from the fight. I scrambled through my possessions for the salvation I knew was there. Finally I lay my hands on the delicate crystal decanter, pulled the stopper from its neck and drank back the bitter potion. Magically I was transported to the safety of the Adventurer's Guild.
(LOOK STORY2 to continue)
I rested there for many days, healing my wounds and returning to full strength. I knew though, the cat would not rest now that it had tasted my blood. I also knew I needed help to take it down. I called in Dwarven steel to assist me in the fight. The ordained master of Wisdom, Wylin came to my call and we set out in search of the cat. Looking high and low through the realm, we found nothing.
Slightly relieved at the absence of the cat, I one day set out alone to again plunder the goblins for their treasures. I was full of false confidence. Then, there it was, my ranger skills allowing me to see the faint tracks of a cat having passed this way, and it was on my trail. After calling, rather screeching, for help to Wylin, my Dwarven savior I raced out of the mountain to choose the battlefield for what would become an epic encounter.
The spot chosen was a slim goat trail that wound up the mountain side. It gave few escape routes and a good view of the surrounding terrain. Knowing I had little time to spare, I readied my curative potions and cast a spell of silence over the area. Then, as if by magic, the cat arrived with no warning. Wylin had yet to arrive so I stood alone against its vicious onslaught. I evoked a precious sanctuary spell to help my defense against its attacks and waited for rescue, parrying its claw attacks and defending against its powerful magic. Lost in a battle trance, the edges of my senses felt the tremors of small earthquakes shaking the ground beneath my feet. Shortly after, with mace drawn and metal armor gleaming in the bright sunshine, Wylin arrived to join the fray.
(LOOK STORY3 to continue.)
The battle raged on, the cat taking damage from Wylin's massive hits but still it stood its ground. Again and again, bashing at the cat with all his strength Wylin lead the attack but still the cat stood. I knew more help was needed as I could see Wylin's strength begin to fain even after healing his many wounds many times throughout the battle. I called in a young elven adventurer named Tweedle to assist in the fight. Long into the night we fought, beyond any limit we had previously met. Finally as dawn touched the horizon the cat began to fall. Attempting to use the last of its strength the cat tried a mighty swipe at Wylin and instead fell dead at our feet.
We made a quick journey back to the safety of nearby Dwarvenhold and began our recovery from the incredible fight. That's when the ghost showed up. The ghost of the cat seemed almost bigger than the cat was in life. Much help from the following of Wisdom came to our assistance at this point and the ghost was destroyed with little problem.
And that ends my story of the cat. There isn't much of a moral to my story except to mention that being boastful in the presence of an Implementor might get you turned into a kitty chew toy.
With that you snap out of your trance. You realize the bartender must have some magical storytelling ability. You could have sworn Natilena was right there telling you the story just now.
The bartender grins to himself at your recognition, and goes off to serve the other patrons.