Replies: 175 / 8 years 166 days 21 hours 58 minutes 2 seconds
The port is alive with life and color, so saturated in vigor you begin to wonder if the city breathes on its own accord. Like it or not your ship has docked here, and you are in luck to be in such a magnificent place. Drink imports are the most exquisite the world has to offer. Spices are in wide variety, their names so exotic that, when pronounced correctly, are just as strange and enticing as their taste.
Maybe you walk the streets after dinner, or go out with an adventurous purpose- benevolent or malign. Whichever your reason or lack thereof, one day on a quiet side street you notice something... most curious.
A lone door set in a cobbled wall.
Admittedly it isn't much to look at first glance, except you know for certain it was not there the day before. Or the day before that.
Light dances on the threshold at different intensities. People, perhaps things are moving around inside. If you are brave enough to approach you can even faintly hear what may be their voices.
Whenever you begin to look away from the door it starts to fade from existence. Will you decide to enter, your hand poised over the handle? This is your one chance. To walk away means to do so forever, and there your story will end. With absolute certaintly you are aware that whichever you choose there is no going back.
So, for your own reasons,
you turn the handle and go forward.
Owned by Wolven
You enter the smoke-filled tavern, the scent of whiskey and love labours lost hanging thickly in the air like cheap perfume. Seats scatter the premises, yet spaces are clearly coveted so it would be wise that you select a place in which to sit very soon. Flames flicker invitingly as they engulf and caress the oaken logs that produce a friendly fire situated on the right hand side of the entrance.
Winding wooden steps diminish eventually into the perpetual gloom of the mysterious upper-floor overnight quarters. Be warned; screams cannot be heard by the dead.
All spammers and irrelevant posters will be hunted down- if you're even still alive when we catch you. You will then have your legs broken and kneecaps shattered only to then be burnt at the stake.
We expect you to be respectful and of quality, both with words and picture choice. If you or your picture do not fit the mood of the Tavern, you are out. The only person you have to blame for your expulsion is your self, if it indeed occurs.
The small framed child sat on a stool, kicking her legs back and forth idly as she thoguht I do have a server we could use. We could sent it to all the old regulars and see who we can gather up. Oh that would be so nostalgic..