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The Light of Civilization - A Renaissance Story
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<blockquote data-quote="VLAD the Destroyer" data-source="post: 6969642" data-attributes="member: 6803188"><p>A bottle flew across the room and smashed against the wall. The sounds of arguments, scuffles and revelry all mixed together forming a cloud over the whole tavern. A small band played jaunty music for a dancer on the small stage in the middle of the room. Serving girls wound their ways through the tables expertly dodging patrons that tried to get frisky as they dropped off or took orders. All in all it was a typical tavern on you would find on any wharf in the world. Sailors and dock hands drank at tables and large men with cudgels broke up any fight that got to serious. </p><p></p><p>The man sitting alone at a table fit the atmosphere like a tailored suit. His auburn hair was pulled back. As he scanned the room the trinkets braided into his hair clicked and swayed. The other patrons gave him a wide berth. Many seemed to give glances to the warhammer laid across the table next to an empty bottle. Others looked at the tribal tattoos that ran up his arms and disappeared into his sleeves. the tattoos marked him as a son of Britannia. A rare sight this far from his homeland. The man took a sip from the cup in his hand and frowned. He focused on the empty bottle in front of him and sighed.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #0000CD">"Bella my dear bring me another bottle. This one seems to have emptied itself."</span></p><p></p><p>A cute girl with raven black hair smiles sheepishly and scurries behind the bar. The bartender hands her a bottle of a dark brown liquid and says something to her. She returns to the table with the full bottle. She places it on the table next to the weapon.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #FF8C00">"Here you go Mister Sharp. Dominic said this ones on the house."</span></p><p></p><p>Lucien smiles at the girl. She was nice even if a little flighty.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #0000CD">"Thank you darlin' and you tell Dominic I appreciate the gracious gift."</span></p><p></p><p>Lucien returns to the new bottle and pours himself another glass. He raises the glass to the bartender who quickly busies himself with cleaning an imagined stain on the bar. Lucien chuckles to himself and takes a sip. He winces a little at the burning from the strong rum. He went back to contemplating his options. For two days he had been drinking his frustration away. Still fuming over the betrayal by Giacomo. That bastard quartermaster would pay for what he did but sulking here was get him no closer to that vengeance. But he needed a ship and now it seemed like a way out of the now locked down city. Lucien hoped that Giovanni, his contact here, had the contacts he needed. If not Lucien would not take kindly to the wasted time.</p><p></p><p>Lucien looked up at the door again as a new patron entered the tavern. Giovanni was late and it was not improving Lucien's mood. Unfortunately it was just a girl. Lucien curses under his breath in Britannic, his native tongue, and returns to his brooding.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="VLAD the Destroyer, post: 6969642, member: 6803188"] A bottle flew across the room and smashed against the wall. The sounds of arguments, scuffles and revelry all mixed together forming a cloud over the whole tavern. A small band played jaunty music for a dancer on the small stage in the middle of the room. Serving girls wound their ways through the tables expertly dodging patrons that tried to get frisky as they dropped off or took orders. All in all it was a typical tavern on you would find on any wharf in the world. Sailors and dock hands drank at tables and large men with cudgels broke up any fight that got to serious. The man sitting alone at a table fit the atmosphere like a tailored suit. His auburn hair was pulled back. As he scanned the room the trinkets braided into his hair clicked and swayed. The other patrons gave him a wide berth. Many seemed to give glances to the warhammer laid across the table next to an empty bottle. Others looked at the tribal tattoos that ran up his arms and disappeared into his sleeves. the tattoos marked him as a son of Britannia. A rare sight this far from his homeland. The man took a sip from the cup in his hand and frowned. He focused on the empty bottle in front of him and sighed. [COLOR="#0000CD"]"Bella my dear bring me another bottle. This one seems to have emptied itself."[/COLOR] A cute girl with raven black hair smiles sheepishly and scurries behind the bar. The bartender hands her a bottle of a dark brown liquid and says something to her. She returns to the table with the full bottle. She places it on the table next to the weapon. [COLOR="#FF8C00"]"Here you go Mister Sharp. Dominic said this ones on the house."[/COLOR] Lucien smiles at the girl. She was nice even if a little flighty. [COLOR="#0000CD"]"Thank you darlin' and you tell Dominic I appreciate the gracious gift."[/COLOR] Lucien returns to the new bottle and pours himself another glass. He raises the glass to the bartender who quickly busies himself with cleaning an imagined stain on the bar. Lucien chuckles to himself and takes a sip. He winces a little at the burning from the strong rum. He went back to contemplating his options. For two days he had been drinking his frustration away. Still fuming over the betrayal by Giacomo. That bastard quartermaster would pay for what he did but sulking here was get him no closer to that vengeance. But he needed a ship and now it seemed like a way out of the now locked down city. Lucien hoped that Giovanni, his contact here, had the contacts he needed. If not Lucien would not take kindly to the wasted time. Lucien looked up at the door again as a new patron entered the tavern. Giovanni was late and it was not improving Lucien's mood. Unfortunately it was just a girl. Lucien curses under his breath in Britannic, his native tongue, and returns to his brooding. [/QUOTE]
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