The Horny Unicorn

[Isolde]

I come back from the kitchen and see the dark figure talking to my brother, Thorr. He seems somewhat familiar but I dont know just why.

"Hey, you!," I shout to him as I go behind the bar,"Leave my bouncer alone. He's cant think about more than one thing at a time and I need him to be thinking about tossing anyone who doesnt belong. If you get my drift."

"Now, what can I do for you? We arent open and I havent got all day!"

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

I jumped as I heard a shout from behind me. I whirl around and see the woman I had spoken to earlier, yelling at me to leave the big brute alone.

"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked me in an irritated tone. "We arent open and I havent got all day!"

'I..um..I...er," I begin to stumble over my words, as her sudden entrance had startled me out of my calmed state. I quickly took a deep breath and calmed myslef. "I noticed the sign out front, saying that you required workers for this establishment. I have come in the hopes of applying for some type of position..."

I looked at her with pleading eyes, the effect of course was lost since I was still wearing my dark sun glasses.

 

[Isolde]

I looked the man up and down. He was dressed nice but there was a darkness about him, almost a desperateness which was echoed by his voice.

What the hell? He would fit in with the customers.

"I need someone to tend bar so I am not stuck behind it all night. I've got other....issues to deal with. You want the job? I assume you can pour ale and whiskey and not drink all the profits unlike some I could mention." At this she looked directly at Thorr.

"It pays lodging, food, drink and some wenching as well as two gold a day. You cant mention the wenching part to Imoen and the food is being cooked by a barbarian but you look like you are ready to eat anything."

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

I smiled brightly, allowing my fangs to show. "Excellent, madame! You won't regret this decision!"

I gave the woman a stiff, militaristic bow, and quickly made my way to the bar. Standing behind it, I glanced at all the bottles and tankards of alcohol, my smile growing.

"Excellent, indeed," I say to myself. "This will be easy; I am a Sorcerer First-Class! Mixing and serving these concoctions will be a simple feat for one of my briliance!"

I laugh aloud maniacally, my evil heart ajoy at my newfound employed state.

 

[Isolde]

I rolled my eyes at the laughter and headed toward the kitchen to see how our new cook was doing and what exactly his name was.

"Imoen!," I yelled, not seeing her around,"Come make sure my brother and the new help are put to work. I have to check on the new...ugh...cook."

 

[Imoen]

"WENCHING?!" Imoen rises from behind the bar, the vertible picture of righteous fury. She smacked at her smock, whipping away clouds of dust and bits of straw that clinged to her clothing - gathered from the floor to which she was so rudely forced to dive by Thoor's attempt to save Isolde.

"Absolutely NOT!" She gritted through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing angrily. "I thought we had already discussed AND agreed on that, Isolde! Absoultely NO wenching! We are to be a decent, wholesome establishment!"

Spinning around on her heel, she stomped over the bar, wagging a finger in warning at the newest employee. "I mean every word, Mr... Mr....? Just what is your name?!" Sighing in frustration, she threw a quick glance back over her shoulder in Isolde's direction. "I can't believe you would hire someone without even so much as finding out their name!" Whipping her meancing glance back around to the new bartender, finger continuing to wag. "Regardless, If I so much of hear the merest whisper that wenching is going on in here, I will hold you personally responsible, Mr. whoever-you-are!"

"And don't think the fangs scare me in the least." She scoffed, "I've seen your kind before and I have a nice wooden broom handle that can be sharpened into quite a lovely little point." That being said, she turned and flounced to the other end of the bar, muttering under her breath all the same.

 

[Isolde]

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I say as I walk towards the kitchen,"Decent, wholesome....boring....empty...destitute....passed by. Dont worry about it, partner, I can handle all the details on that end of things. You just sit back and have that broom handle ready."

Walking into the kitchen, I look at the mess that the new cook has made, sigh and walk out. If I was going to eat here I was better off not knowing how it was being cooked.

"Eh, better make that two employees whose names I dont know," I said to Imoen as I open the doors to prepare for business.

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

I stare at the extremely ticked off newcomer and gulp. "Name? Err... I'm called Mer-" I was about to tell her my name, but thankfully my brain regained its senses. I couldn't tell her I was Mergale the Dreaded, Dark Lord of the Northern Lands! Idiot! I had to make up a name!

"Errr... they call me Mervin... yes..."

The woman wasn't listening to me, as she was busy yelling at her partner. She quickly turned her attention back to me, and yelled, "Regardless, If I so much of hear the merest whisper that wenching is going on in here, I will hold you personally responsible, Mr. whoever-you-are!"

Wenching? What was that?

"And don't think the fangs scare me in the least." She scoffed, "I've seen your kind before and I have a nice wooden broom handle that can be sharpened into quite a lovely little point." She then stormed off after making the threat.

"Hmph," I mutter to myself. "Why do humans think of me as a vampire? I look nothing like one! Rediculous... pathetic mortals..." I shrug, then pulled out a rag from behind the bar and begin to polish the drinking glasses.

 

[Neale]

Thorr

Thorr started to reply to the dark newcomer, but Isolde breezed in and took over... much to his relief. At one point in her spiel, Thorr felt very insulted. "Thorr not drink prof-its... Thorr drink ale!" he muttered, not daring to let his big sister hear him.

Isolde called out to Imoen, and stormed off to the kitchen. Thorr was not alone in his surprise when Imoen leaped up from behind the bar, yelling about wenching. The furious woman's appearance transfixed Thorr... he was rapidly becoming smitten with this fiery Lady. The way she stood up to his terrifying big sister, actually arguing with her, fascinated him... Here was a woman with the blood of warriors!

The Valkyrie turned on the new hire, and cut him down to size, too, threatening him with a sharpened stake, if he should step out of line. Her threats of violence made Thorr's heart skip a beat... Imoen turned, and made her way to the other end of the bar, where Thorr sat, quaffing his ale. "Ho! Thorr like you, Lady!" For Thorr, this was the general equivalent of a love sonnet.

 

[Roland Gilliad]

.....*He had been reviled by so many for his strange appearance, the elves wouldnt accept him, The druids abhorred his strange aura and cast him out, even the kindest of benefactors seemed to turn him away eventually, his last one, a certain man by a very familiar name, was the best he had ever known, however he himself needed to go on a quest and had to turn away the young Jack of all trades, so once again he found himself here in the dregs of humanity, walking the streets alone, wearing only his Weather beaten leather armor and some simple clothing, his supplies were low, and his money lower, he was nearly ready to sink to the lowest level, he would if nessicary sell his body to make ends meet. He was not too proud to admit that sometimes one had to resort to such measures, He had done so before. and would do so again if need be, he was rather handsome if nothing else, well muscled and blessed with an exceptional bit of endurance, But otherwise he was ordinary....except for in one very crucial area, his looks, He was tall and lanky, with long silvery blue hair that stretched to his knees if untamed and to his waist even when it was braided very fancily, his eyes danced a Bright Shimmering sky blue, and he was slightly pale sometimes, and blackish skinned at others, making him look like both Surfice Elves and Drow, though he was not even elven in any way, a great deal of his looks delt with a very old family curse that he had never discussed or even known much about....He walked into the Horny Unicorn and looked around nervously, half expecting to be attacked or told to get out.....and looked around, hoping for someone who might employ him..

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

I was polishing the rather dirty glassware when a man suddenly entered. At first I thought him a customer, but seeing his pathetic state, I quickly abandoned this line of thought.

"Sheesh, this guy looks worse than I do," I think to myself. I was about to order the foul miscreant out, when my senses picked up on something about him. Interesting... his aura was strange. Not quite dark, like mine was, nor was it blinding like a High Elve's. There was something about this man, something which whispered secrets longing to be heard. Had I my original power, I would know for sure what made him so, but since I was a shadow of my former self such deductions would have to come by old-fashioned means...

"Hello, traveler," I say to the man in a friendly fashion. Behind my glasses, my red eyes flare up with anticipation; could this stranger lead me to my revenge? "Welcome to the Horny Unicorn... how may I be of assistance?"

 

[The GrandMage]

Oh, look, a bar....

He was wandering around, when he spotted the little bar. It had an unusual name, but it also had a certain...feeling to it. He would have passed by if it hadn't been for the small crowd talking. A barbarian for a bouncer, they said. Some argued whether it was a brothel or a bar. One mention one of the owners had threatened him with a broom. He gave that one a solid hit to the back of the head as he stepped into the establishment. Women with brooms were to be taken seriously. He'd learnt that the hard way.
He hated the turn his life had taken. Once, he had been an ArchMage, watching over the magic counsel. Then, he had been Lord Grilam, Leader of the Legions of Ultimate Evil. And they'd been defeated. Here, thousands of years, and many assumed names later, the magic counsel had taken away all his power...again. He was going by Grilam again, since only people who have studied the wars of 'Good' versus 'Evil' would know that name, and only the 'Evil' ones ever bothered to do that. The goodie-two-shoes rulers thought they were invicible. Although that last battle, against...what was his name again? Oh well, he thought, he'd seen the battle, and had been cheering for him, but he lost.
He heard a voice talking to the one who had entered before him as he slipped in, and looked at the barkeep. He started. It was Him... The ex-Dark Lord he'd been thinking about, and he was a barkeep?!?! This was interesting. He strolled over to the bar, and sat down to a nice enough looking Barbarian. He'd known a few in his time, and this one looked like he'd just been hit by a woman. He knew, in their customs, that was as good as asking for a date. He looked up at the barkeep, and asked the only real questions worth asking.
"You open yet? And if so, you got any vodka, or pretty little wenches behind the bar?"

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

"NO ABSOLUTELY NO WENCHING!!!" I shout before regaining my senses. Hmmm... that threat with the broom handle must have gotten to me more than I thought.

I calm down a bit, and continue in a less severe manner. "I mean, welcome to the Horny Unicorn, friend. I am afraid that the exploitation of female flesh is not part of our trade here; we are merely an eating and drinking establishment."

I gaze at the newcomer, and stare at his aura. "Strange..." I think to myself. His aura is like mine; he stank of immense power, now lost.

I shake off the thought and continue polishing glasses. "As for the alcohol, I am afraid I can not sell any until one of the gorgons, er... women who own the bar officially opens the establishment..."

 

[Neale]

Thorr

Thorr blinked at the barrage of unfamiliar words coming from the new bartender, then seized upon one word he did understand... "Gorgon! Where gorgon?!!" A wild gleam shone in the barbarian's eyes, and he grinned happily at the prospect of battle as he drew Giant-Cleaver, his legendary magical two-handed sword, and waved it around the room.

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

I saw the barbarian leap about, swinging his sword, and shouting happily about the prospect of fighting gorgons.

Sighing, I turn my attention from the newcomers and yell out, "Gorgon dead now, no need fight. Here, have beer to celebrate victory," I pass my barbarous co-worker a mug of the cheap stuff.

 

[Imoen]

Gritting her teeth in utter frustration, Imoen hopped upon the nearest stool - laying her head down upon her folded arms. This is definitely not going as she had hoped, she sighed to herself.

Her head lifted at the entrance of the two newcomers. A small hopeful smile lifted the corners of her lips as she overheard Mervin's vehement adherance to her no wenching policy. Obviously she'd got her point across, pun intended. Alas the smile was brief, as her lips thinned and eyebrows furrowed into a disgrunteled frown. gorgons?

Her jaw dropped in pure shock as the barbarian drew forth a HUGE sword. Rolling her eyes in absolute comic dispair she hopped off the stool, hands firmly planted on her hips. "Would you PLEASE sheath that thing! There is no gorgons! Our dearest Mervin," The sarcasm literally dripped off the words, "is only making a slur against his employers." Her narrowed gaze whipped around to the bartender in question. "And it would be to his best advantage to remember he can be let go as friviously as he was hired on."

 

[Neale]

Thorr

When the bartender informed Thorr that the gorgon had already been defeated, Thorr's spirits were dampened, but they were quickly restored by the prospect of more ale! However, when Imoen spoke, she seemed to be annoyed with Mervin. With lightning speed, Thorr's hand shot across the bar, grabbing the former ArchMage by the throat, dragging him across the bar, and suspending him high in the air. "Thorr think you say bad thing about Thorr emplo...imploder... Boss! Thorr snap you like twig, little man."

 

[Imoen]

"Oh by the gods! PUT HIM DOWN!"

Imoen rushed over to Thorr's side, straining her head back to glance up in horror at Mervin dangling from the barbarian's grip. "Egads! You're going to scare off all the customers before we even get any!!"

She placed her hands gently on Thorr's massive arms and spoke in a soothing voice. "Let him down, Thorr. Gently!!! Gently.... Yes, that's it." Feeling his arms relax as they lowered Mervin from his suspension high in the air.

"Good! Now. Just. Let. Go!" She muttered as she pried his fingers away from Mervin's neck.

Having sucessfully pulled Thorr away form the coughing, sputtering dark figure, she dragged (or moreso attempted to drag) the mammoth barbarian back to his spot at the bar.

How in the world was she going to get him to understand?

"Thorr no hurt other workers!... No matter how obnoxious they can be." She grinned in spite of herself at the last comment, patting Thorr on the back soundly. "Good try though! You'll do well."

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

I was about to polish another glass when the huge barbarian grabbed me by the throat and began hurling me around. I felt my long evil life flash before my eyes as the oxygen was cut off to my brain. I saw my mom and dad, my first torture victim, my first legion of orc followers, etc.

I was about to journey into the light when one of my employers managed to get the big lug off of me. I fell to the floor, my pained lungs drawing in massive amounts of air to compensate for the last few minutes. As I regained my senses, my anger and hate suddenly flared up.

Slowly and painfully, I stood up, my eyes glowing a vicious scarlet. My fangs were protruding form my lips, and a black miasma of pure evil began surrounding me. I glared hotly at the impudent barbarian who would dare lay a hand on me, and began to form power between my hands.

"You will die, fool!" I said. "I will send your soul to hell, and hang your head upon my mantle!"

Bolts of electricity began forming in my outstretched fists, and the air became laden with ozone. Just as I was about to let loose my vengeance, I heard my stomache growl loudly.

"God, I'm hungry," I mutter as the glow in my eyes faded and the dark miasma dissipated around me. I silently cursed myself for losing control and using up the last of my power in that little display. I promptly fell on my face, utterly exhausted.

 

[Isolde]

I walked in from checking on the rooms upstairs to see Imoen trying to drag my brother off of the bartender and then him trying to fry my brother...like that would do any good. The electricity might jump start his brain but I doubted it.

Then the bartender fell over on his face as all the energy drained from him.

"Oh for.....cant anyone see that we already have customers? The are going to rename this place the Padded Cell if you all dont just get along."

Grabbing Imoen's broom, I smacked Thorr on the head and said,"Get the bartender into the kitchen and get him fed, you big oaf. And next time dont strangle anyone til either I or Imoen give the word. Good Gods. Where do you think I am going to put the bodies this time? We dont have that huge pit out back like we did at home."

Turning to the two new people, I said,"What can I do for you?"

 

[Roland Gilliad]

*Desperately fighting the urge to laugh at the antics all around him, he turned to Isolde, and gave a small, furitive smile, Silvery Blue whisps of his hair eeking out from beneath his hood, he gave a small smile and stepped forward, extending a shaking hand*

I Was hoping M'lady That I could....find some sort of Employment somewhere around here? Or if not.....simply a room for the night would be such a grand change, though I have little money I am afraid...

*He jumped back shaking as the Barbarian swung the sword a little too close to him, and looked beyond afraid, as if he was expecting the next swing to come crashing down on his neck, He shook hard, deathly afraid, and with no one to cling too, he wrung his cloak in his hands and tried to calm himself down*

I-i-i-if im not wanted- *he began but stopped at the look on Imoens face...*

 

[Isolde]

"Hummm...," I said as I looked the dark stranger up and down. "There might be something you can do at that. Why dont you go and get something to eat from the kitchen and then we will talk. I think I can use you as a 'greeter' for those who come in here."

As he started to walk away to the kitchen, I said,"Oh, yeah, by the way. What is your name? My partner seems to have a thing about employing people and not knowing their names."

 

[Imoen]

Imoen rushed over to the distressed young ... man? "Oh you poor thing! Please, do as Isolde asks. Sit and sup. Forgive the silly antics as of late!" She threw a harrowing glare over her shoulder to Thorr as he helped Mervin into the kitchen. "Boys will be boys."

"Are you any good with a broom?" Returning her glance to the newcomer, her gaze warmed considerably. She queried in all seriousness. "We will definitely need a good clean up crew. Or perhaps you would be more interested in being a server?"

Taking note of the customer leaning against the bar, her smile increased ten-fold. She hurried her way behind the bar, quickly approaching the stranger. "Welcome! Forgive the lag in service! How may I help you? An ale for a parched throat? Something a bit stronger perhaps?"


OOC: Sorry GrandMage, didn't mean to overlook ya.

 

[The GrandMage]

He was quite surprised with the turn things had taken. Watching the action, he leaned over the bar, and began to pound it with his fist as he laughed. The small display of power had been the only time he hand't nearly laughed his lungs out. Once that was over and done, he was back to laughing, until he was questioned about drinks.

With that subject at hand, he drew himself upright again, and flashed a large grin. "What do you have?" The change from mirth to composure was fluid and fast.

He brushed off his simple grey clothes, and waited for an answer.

 

[MrSand]

Mergale

The big barbarian plunked me down in front of a stool in the kitchen, then left. I glared at his back, or would have, if I weren't so weak from hunger and exhaustion.

"Soon, you big oaf, " I said to myself. "Soon, when I regain my power, I will carve out your soul!"

My psychotic ramblings were cut short when I smelled the wonderful aroma of cooking meat. I turn around, and there on the table was a veritable feast spread before me. My hunger soon got the better of me, and I grabbed the nearest foodstuff (which happened to be a roasted chicken) and began to devour it.

Sure, the chicken was undercooked and still bloody in the middle. Sure it's insides hadn't been removed yet. And sure, it was just a tad bit too spicy. But when you're hungry, the taste of the food does not matter; only how fast you can get it into your demanding stomache!