The Menagerie Tavern.

[Grayell]

There is but one hub in Wistvale. Each town needs a tavern and in this small, run down shanty town, the tavern IS the town. It acts as a center for commerce, a way point and a center for information, rest and ample food and grog. Each and every visitor to Wistvale happens upon the The Menagerie Tavern - there is truly little else to see in this otherwise unremarkable town.

The crowd is unpredictable at best. A raucous throng of laughter one moment and a deadly maelstrom of conflict the next, it is best you choose your seat wisely and keep to yourself. If you want to spend any time in Wistvale, you'll be wanting to frequent the tavern.

Just do your best to survive it.

[Allistaire]

Allistaire approached the tavern, wincing at the loud laughter coming from within. He needed to eat and get off his feet as he has been walking a better part of the day but he certainly would not get much reading or studying done in there. But his options were limited. He pushed the door in and let out a cough as wood smoke hit his nostrils burning his nose with a hearty puff. He waved his hand and a small breeze cleared the air of smoke around him. Much better. He found a relatively isolated table from the center of the room and ordered some food and drink. Fruit, a small piece of ham and something light to drink. He looked around the tavern and listed for anything interesting.

[Grayell]

A burly if not ragged looking man sat alone at a small table about as far from the bar as one could get. He had a mug of what was likely mead in front of him but showed little interest. Instead he yawned, scratches his mane of hair. He sniffed, snorted in fact in a somewhat vulgar way; and after swallowing what amounted to something unsavory, he looked about.

He winced when the low light in here met his eyes and lowered his head to ponder the unknown in that same stale mead.

[Zaedus]

Zaedus pushes the wooden door of the tavern open, grunting as the waves of multitudes of scents assaulted his senses. He blinked his eyes a few times and headed to the bar. The bestial figure weaved from table to table as he made his way. Approaching the bar he awkwardly sat on one of the stools.

" Meat, fresh and uncooked if capable"

he requested, noticing the curious gazes from the other patrons milling about.

[Jerevan Languorem]

Almost immediately after Zaedus finished his order, the doors swung quietly open and Daenien entered. Unlike the previous entrance, his drew almost none-- the only thing even slightly odd about him was his suit jacket, an extravagance he simply hadn't been able to resist, and he could say that he'd made it for himself. Acting carefully withdrawn, he walked up to the bar, looking over the other patrons for potential targets for his, ah, profession.

He sat down and waited quietly for the bartender to notice him.

[fapizztheterrible]

Suddenly, and without warning, The doors of the tavern burst open (seemingly of their own accord!) with a terrible creaking. Only the most observant of eyes would have spotted the pale, skinny arms that had pushed the door retreating into the shadows. And then, from the darkness, came a terrible, mysterious, and terrifying noise...

"hhsshhshshshshshhs.... shhhhhhhhhh ha hisssssssssss... aghg... hackk...." A pause for a bit of coughing. "HShshshshshshhshshshshssssss!!!!"

Suddenly, the room darkened. Or at least got a bit more shady. I think? Maybe it was just my imagination... But the cooooolld.... Oh, Gods, yes, the coooooolllld!!!! It was suddenly and abruptly so terribly DRAFTY... Oh Godddddsssss.... The Chilly Coolness!!!! Soometimes teeeerrible was about to happen... Something... WASN'T RIGHT....

[Grayell]

Grayell emitted something between a burp and a snore, chuckled at something toying in his dreams.... and then promptly fell face first into his ale. The flagon clattered across the floor and his face now rested - in a rather flattened roadkill manner - on the ale soaked table before him.

At least no one would notice his tendency to drool when sleeping....

[fapizztheterrible]

A shadowy figure could be seen, standing outside the tavern doors, shrouded in mist. And then suddenly, it was moving.

He strode into the tavern, darkness following him like a cloak.

It was the Witch King. The Witch King of Flabzzzar. All was over, the wise among them perhaps thought. None will survive.

The Witch King, cloaked in a cloak as dark as darkness, raised his sword.

"BOW BEFORE ME, FOOLISH MORTALS!

THEN, FOLLOWING THAT, MAKE A GIFT TO ME OF YOUR GOLD AND OTHER SEMI-PRECIOUS METALS AND GEMS.
THAT, OR DIE. THE WITCH KING OF FRAPUMAR-MAGEE TAKES NO PRISONERS."

[Grayell]

Nothing. A bubbling, muffled snore and a sleep-choked cough was about it. Grayell's hand slipped from his side, his knuckles rapping on the floor. He started to lean....

[fapizztheterrible]

He waved his sword in a broad arc, pointing to the sadly doomed occupants of the tavern, the air behind his blade writhing with shadows.

"I ALSO ACCEPT BEER AND MILD CHEESES."

The Witch King turned, cloak flowing like liquid darkness, terrified, shadowy faces contorted in agony materializing momentarily in the air. He pointed his terrible sword.

"YOU! SNORING FOOL! AWAKE AND THEN, FOLLOWING THAT ACTION, FALL TO YOUR KNEES! THE WITCH KING OF BABASHABU WILL NOT SUFFER SUCH INSOLENCE."

[Zaedus]

The tavern keep walked from the back carrying a plate with a thick slice of red meat.

" 'Ere ye are....wolf-man, it may be a bit salty from the curin' process, I started it a few days ago, but its yer meat none-the-less"

Zaedus nodded his head in acceptance, although he disagreed with the smell of the meat. He shrugged grasped the meat in his hand and took a chunk out of it, the meat shredding and tearing between his teeth. He tilted his head back to continue eating his bite, and with a swallow, he continued eating.

[fapizztheterrible]

"PAAAAYYYY ATTENTION TO MEEEEEEE! THAT INCLUDES YOU, FURBALL!!!!"

He waved his sword above his head.

"I AM THE WITCH KING OF KRKRPUZ'LA!!!!"

He hopped up and down a few times, his cloak billowing. The lights seemed to dim even further, and the shadows in the tavern's murky corners thickened and deepened, an occasional TERRIFYING TENTACLE!!! flipping out.

"WHAT KIND OF FOOL ESTABLISHMENT IS THIS, ANYWAYS!?!? YOU CALL THIS SERVICE!?!?

IN THE DEATH-PITS OF MARPUTHU, THE FLAME-GIANTS WOULD ALREADY BE ON THEIR KNEES BEFORE ME, BEGGING FOR SWEET MERCY WHILE THEIR DREAD FIRE-PALS PILED THEIR RICHES BEFORE ME. NOT THAT IT HELPED THEM, ANYWAYS. SEE THIS SOCK!?"

He stuck out a pale, skinny leg, terrible shadow-beasts flying from under his robe before disappearing into the air. On his foot was a dingy sock.

"WHAT YOU SEE BEFORE YOU IS WHAT IS LEFT OF THEIR MOUNTAIN STRONGHOLD. NONE SURVIVED.
BUT IT IS NOT TOO LATE, MORTALS. SURRENDER, AND THE WITCH KING OF CHUH HUH-CHUH WILL NOT CONSUME YOUR ADMITTEDLY UNAPPETIZING SOULS."

[Grayell]

(Taking a tad interaction liberty here Jenks in the name of RP, lemme know if it's an issue.)

FLUMP.

Grayell had toppled from his chair and fallen unceremoniously upon the floor. Snot, drool and ale on his cheek, he groggily half-opened his eyes and looked around. His head dropped to the floor as he groaned, before picking himself up off the floor.

Somewhat. Not quite managing the fine intricacies of vertical posture, he stumbled this way and that for but a brief second... before an unsavory ulp expelled no small amount of vomitus on one dark lord's sock.

Grayell managed to halt his head long decent into the side of the bar with, well his head; and rocked back suddenly to lean upon it with his elbows, facing the room. He looked at the sock and grinned. Bloodshot eyes looked half conscious into the hooded visage and burped once more time.

Yep. Sorry about that. Waste of good ale. Better in than out my mother used to say.

She was a mean drunk.

[Serenity]

The whole town was a pathetic sight to look upon and even worse to smell. That was just the outside, however, and Serenity took it upon herself to mingle a little with some of the folk that she would be living with for a long time before she could move on again.

The tavern was always a good place to hear of interesting gossip or meet fascinating people. Often times they were little more than just rowdy pubs where the patrons were but apes pissing all over themselves while spewing asinine BLURP jokes and vulgar slang.

If she had anything to be thankful for it was her magic training in one of the most prestigious academies in the land. A little was all she needed to keep the dogs at bay.

One thing the mage hoped for, at least, was for there to be an intelligent human being to be present in this tavern. She already expected the...the,

"Destitute conditions to say the least..." she said to herself as he entered.

Serenity was clearly the oddball in the room just with her semi formal attire alone. Not trying to make immediate eye contact with the other customers she walked in a somewhat slow pace up to the bar, analyzing which seat was in the best condition before picking one at the end.

Well, an edible drink won't be to much to ask for I hope

[jericho]

Jericho pushed the door of the Tavern open, and surveyed the room. He looked for who seemed to be the largest, not the toughest, just the largest. He finally spied the Worgen at the bar. He walked over and sat next to the Wolfman. The barkeep came over and Jericho ordered a water.

So, mister wolfman, whats your name?