Golf Claps: Where Someone Might Remember Your Name

[Imara]

(( A little OOC information to start. This thread, and hopefully others, will be set in a fictional tavern on the coast of the Borean Tundra. The tavern is owned by Skafloc Ran'Deau and Liadain Greyhame and was their response to the lack of booze for the common man outside of Dalaran. The tavern is run by a pair of trolls, Lupa and Jenjay, and will have a cast of characters that make regular appearances.

The idea is that interactions in this tavern are exclusive to the TNG but will be considered canon in game. The hope is that characters will be able to meet and do things here that can spark more interactions back in the game. In a way, we are hoping to make this like a forum-based DnD adventure. You put your characters in our tavern and we'll make stuff happen for them to react to and participate in. :)

Right now I'm just putting up this info, but hopefully we will have the first real RP introductory post for you very soon. Enjoy! ))

[Netharius]

(( This sounds very interesting. Will you be posting more information soon? i.e, name of the tavern (edit: nevermind :P), information about it's layout and aspects of it.

I'd be interested in un-rusting my character and being more involved in the Twisting Nether RPing community. ))

[Lupa]

Her curses faded off grdually into mild muttering after the pain subsisded. Stubbed toes were never pleasant but when that toe belonged to a troll things became complicated.

The intesity of her sweeping however never dipped an iota.

The wooded floor boards were fairly coated with a good layer of acient dust. Lupa half suspected it was that dust alone that had managed to preserve the state of the place in relative funstuionality.

Still there would be lots of elbow grease needed to get the place ready for opening night (Loa's! Was it really only a day away?)

The stock room was well laden with a good supply of beverage to get them off the ground. Nothing too fancy, that was not what was wanted. Not out here in the frontier. Those wishing high quality wine could always have Dalaran. This was not some fine lounge, it was a mead hall plain and simple.

The central bar dominated the main floor, ringed with a good assembly of stools and chairs. Tables dotted the floor around the bar leading to the wide doorway to the games room, which held the dart and dagger board, the Draenei and Tauren ball table and biliards.

The rooms upstairs would not be available for another week or so, once they were properly cleaned, floors lined with straw and doors outfitted with locks.

Thus far the owners were well accomodating with any supplies and furnituire Lupa requisitioned, so long as it was RUSTIC. Their only request.

Still no sign of her co manager, the toll Jenjay.

Sooner or later they would have to meet.

The sound of a clearing throat brought her around to face the front enterance. The diminuative siloutte of a goblin filled the lower half of the doorway.

"We ain't open yet dere misser. Come back t'morra." she said with a flick of the broom.

The goblin nodded his head, ears bobbiing with the motion. "Oh I know that toots. I just have a proposition for ya and this fine establishment. " He swept his hand around to include the tavern.

"Oh ya? An what be that yer tinkin of?" Lupa asked, setting the broom aside for a moment.

"glad you asked," he said with a grin. "Im Klef Kalvin, senior mail carrier for the Golbin Polstal service here in Northrend, South Western qaudrant, Borean Tundra. I can't help but notice you have no mailbox out front of your enterpreneurship here. That just wont do at all."

Lupa raised her hand to cut him off. "Not my place, I'm jus a manager here. You be wantin ta talk to tha owners I 'spect. "

"Ah well you probably have a point there toots. Here, I'll leave my card then. You will make sure they get it of course right? Lots of advantages to having your own terminal of the Goblin Postal Service right here at your doorstep, as we say. "

Klef scanned the room as he spoke paying particular attention to the bar area.

Lupa sighed."'C'mon in, I may have a flagon of mead hangin aroun here somewhere."

"Oh I coul'dnt impose on your hospitality. You are obviously busy and it isn't opening day after all." He said as he waddled into the bar and took the nearest stool, grin from ear to ear.

"Welcome to Golf Claps. "

[Imara]

Jenjay hummed softly as he walked toward the sturdy, though weatherworn, building; his feet sinking in the sand. He cast an uneasy glance back over his shoulder toward the Mists. "That likely to be causin' us no end a trouble." He shook his head and maneuvered the package under his arm so that he could light a cigarette and prop it comfortably in his mouth.

The tavern was set back from the beach in the midst of the sawgrass. Jenjay could see that the repairs had been finished since the previous day and a path had been cut in the grass to the porch. He also saw a figure desperately trying to peer into a front window. He stepped up onto the porch. "Can I be helpin' ya, boy?"

The Kalu'ak jumped and desperately attempted to look innocent. Finally, he spoke. "Well hi! I'm, um, Nharm. I was just wondering what sort of establishment this might be and who that lovely lady is!"

Jenjay smirked. "Nharm, eh? Well, this just happen to be the newest... and only... tavern in the Tundra!"

Nharm took a step forward, clearly amazed. "A... tavern? Out here? In the middle of nowhere? I mean, well, it's somewhere to us but... None of you other Southlanders seemed to want to stick around!!"

"Well, fear not!" Jenjay made a sweeping gesture toward the door. "Now you can be havin' a drink without having to worry about offendin' a mage's delicate sensibilities!"

"All right!!!!!" Nharm charged for the door but Jenjay dropped a hand to stop him.

"But we not be open until tomorrow... And I think dat woman be Lupa. Likely she won't be appreciating a mess before the big party even gets started." Jenjay chuckled at Nharm's crestfallen face. "Oh all right. I'll vouch for ya."

Jenjay led the way into the main room of the tavern, with the Kalu'ak in tow. "Honey, I'm home!" Jenjay grinned.

[Imara]

Lupa's eyes narrowed as she turned her attention from the goblin making himself comfortable at the end of the bar, to the cocky troll and his Kalu'ak companion.

"Honey?" Lupa growled.

Jenjay sauntered to the bar and rested the package he carried on a stool while he extended a hand to Lupa with a grin. "Jenjay. I be here to help ya wit' the place."

"Hm." Lupa set Postmaster Kalvin's drink in front of him, ignoring Jenjay's extended hand. "And yer friend?"

Jenjay cleared his throat, trying not to look hurt. "This be Nharm. He wanted a better look at de place."

"Well. I suppose we might as well just open a day early at dis rate." Lupa frowned and gathered her broom. "At least now 'dat you're here I can see to de invent'ry. I'll be in my office." With that, Lupa turned on her heel and left the room.

Jenjay, Klef and Nharm watched Lupa go. "'ell of a woman. I like that... Anyway!" Jenjay turned to Nharm. "I 'spose it won' 'urt nothin' for ya ta have a drink." Jenjay slipped behind the bar while Nharm waddled to the other end, taking a stool next to the goblin.

Nharm watched the troll pour a frothy ale, licking his lips. "I've never had a drink in a proper tavern before..."

"Well! I don't know if this really qualifies as a proper tavern..." Klef chimed in, gesturing grandly. "Oh the taverns I've seen! Some of the finest places with the best access to postal services in all of Azeroth!"

Nharm watched the goblin incredulously. "Hrm."

"'ere ya go!" Jenjay presented the Kalu'ak with his drink. "Now, before I forget..." Jenjay grabbed his package from the stool where he'd left it and gently unwrapped a finely carved wooden sign with "Golf Claps" in elegant script across both sides. Carrying the sign to the porch, he hung it prominently and then nodded in satisfaction.