Tales From The Old Bald One-Eyed Salty Red Dog Tavern! (chapter 1, now closed)

[DrZombie]

Madder than Mad Madmartigan "the mad" Madman from Madville town in Crazyland
The half-orc looks in astonishment at the scene before him.
However, at the notion of drinks he perks up.

"I'll have six, er, no seven grogs, please, bartender."

He patiently waits for the drinks to be poured, then looks up.

"Oh, euhm, sorry, give the rest something to drink as well, please."

 

[LogicsFate]

Madder than Mad Madmartigan "the mad" Madman from Madville town in Crazyland
The half-orc looks in astonishment at the scene before him.
However, at the notion of drinks he perks up.

"I'll have six, er, no seven grogs, please, bartender."

He patiently waits for the drinks to be poured, then looks up.

"Oh, euhm, sorry, give the rest something to drink as well, please."

K grabs a chair and pulls in beside her skeptical friend, "Ya know, big guy, I always new their was a reason I liked you" she puts her feet up on something

 

[DrZombie]

Gruaamsh looks at the bartender. Leaning over, he asks:
"What's with shineypants over there?" thumbing towards the drinking, plume- and swordwiggling stranger.

He cheerfully salutes the barbarian wench, and downs a few grogs, in rapid succession.

 

[Lazlow]

Berserker Bill tips the bartender well (um, 10 gold) and thanks him. Then, ignoring his question, he turns to the party. "Okay. Good job, gang! I think we've got whatever problems we had in this town settled. Now, if we leave straightaway we can reach the tower 'presently.' Everyone ready?" Unless he's stopped, Berserker Bill then stands and leaves and heads out of town going north.

The bartender is quite pleasantly surprised, seeing as how he rarely gets a tip at all, considering his usual clientele.

It seems the rest of the 'gang' needs one (or six) for the road before heading out...

 

[Lazlow]

Six the number rolls through K's head looking for something to connect to, she looks around six, six, Me, Bill, Rhanti, Big guy...four, no six, could I be counting Richard, isn't he outside, maybe desert, isn't he outside too, hmm six...

Yes indeed - you realize that Desert is still outside, watching boats.

K watches the proceding with little interest, waiting on her drink, and then waiting some more, till Bill goes to leave, "Hold on there Gru,glu,glrum,um the big guys buying us drinks"

The bartender perks up at the word "buying".

 

[Lazlow]

Madder than Mad Madmartigan "the mad" Madman from Madville town in Crazyland
The half-orc looks in astonishment at the scene before him.
However, at the notion of drinks he perks up.

"I'll have six, er, no seven grogs, please, bartender."

He patiently waits for the drinks to be poured, then looks up.

"Oh, euhm, sorry, give the rest something to drink as well, please."

"Yessir, right away, sir!" the bartender says, quickly pouring a half-dozen and one smallish cups full of a foul-looking and even fouler-smelling fluid.

 

[Lazlow]

Gruaamsh looks at the bartender. Leaning over, he asks:
"What's with shineypants over there?" thumbing towards the drinking, plume- and swordwiggling stranger.

"Oh, him? Eh, he's harmless. Wants to be a lawman, he does, but his father won't let him have a real sword. So instead he uses a tree branch that he's stripped and painted all silvery-like."

He cheerfully salutes the barbarian wench, and downs a few grogs, in rapid succession.

 

[Ranger Rick]

Yes indeed - you realize that Desert is still outside, watching boats.
...

Desert pays the stranger no mind and keeps watching the boats. Talking to himself, "I like shrimp, shrimp are not yech."

 

[Wystan]

I stop staring into space and pull down my blindfold and draw my sword at the words:

"Have you ever fought a blind-folded Elf? It's like trying to fight a whole pack of rabid, sexually-aroused badgers. First thing he'll do is go for your eyes. Pop 'em right out."

Failing to hear any other weapons being drawn and not hearing any fisticuffs either I wait a few minutes and pull up my blindfold.

"Drinks, yes drinks would be good. As the great prophet Ima Gunagetdrunk postulated, 'An elf cannot survive if the lord of drink does not allow him to eat a rabid treacle bush at least once a season'. However he was blind drunk at the time of that quote. I will however try the grog-lite my good sir and please put it on the tab of the non-color coordinated member of our troop."

I smile at Gruaamsh...

"So, you do not want to wear the official uniform of the Sheriff and Deputies of the...the...righteous badge? We look smashing and cause fear in the hearts of all those that come into contact with us."

I await my grog-lite.

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill (already having had a few shots to start his day) says, "Drinks. Right. Well, when you're ready, I'll be outside going over the plan with Desert. Or at least watching the sailboats with him."

He then goes outside and looks around for a chair, gives up after only half a glance, removes the bucket hanging from his pack, flips it over and sits down on it next to Desert. He scratches his nose for a second, picks it, then looks up at Desert. "What's happenin' Desert?"