Gilded Lilly Tavern

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Gilded Lilly Tavern

Post  Admin on Mon Nov 23, 2009 3:27 pm

A man stood behind the counter of this establishment, his eyes those that watched with intrest when it was something in his favor. Other then that things happening seemed to go on under his visual radar. Hand held a beerstein while the other washed it with a towel near running water. Every unused glass was shined with abundance, and he took great pride in this. He held many Barmaids and attendants to run out food or liquor, or perhaps clean tables for new patrons. He was a man that could be mistaken for a warrior, perhaps he was in his life. Daemier he was, though clearly looked human in appearance. Unlike man whom held elven ears, or other features of their past race. Few pure bloods were around these day, at least in this new branch of the Rwhol Empire. Their leaders kind men, whom stopped in on occasion and brought plenty of news, items for sell, or money.

His name, it was Tiear Lithe, a man of ten foot height, and muscluture from hard work. His habits were slight, and laughter almost so in rarity. His eyes glowed a violet, and yet at times held the soft blue of the iced over oceans he once lived. Such memories in his fathers trade as Blacksmith, was good. He watched some knights play a card game, the rules like poker, the stakes nothing to mock at.

Elsewhere his brother and other members of the trades guilds, would be in other parts of this large tavern, their business selling what they traded in. Weapons rare and exotic, spells, spell components, special breed creatures, information. All had its price by the means of a few of the shady guild members, their wares expensive but worth it.

In the darkest part, one would find whole rooms that held the shady chars, men selling everything from company to their sword arm or others. Black mages and others that dealt in Necromancy or Life arts forbidden for centuries found a place to deal. All under the assumption they were but respectable guild partners. So, it was that all were in business of selling or buying the goods this establishment housed. Rooms from one bed to multiple, open for the wary travellers, and meals thrown in for extra.

Rwhol Knights would stop in, only to drink and play cards, or see what new items showed up. They knew the owner and did not police the establishment as many first thought. Villagers from near and far would be guests, welcome into this place. Finding shelter, or something else if they held the money of time to wait for the item to be provided....

Footsteps... the soft yet repetitive steps brought this man into the etablishment. The door knob was released from his gloved hands, letting the door slide softly back into its closed position. His entrance was no big one, just the simple everyday arrival of a patron. A light green hood of a cloak, sat around his face, offering shadows to those whom payed attention to his arrival. Only a glint here and there from the flickering flames of the candles would offer peeks at his unshaved face. Not a large amount of stubble sat there, but it was enough to give him the distinguished outdoorsman look. His attire added to the enigma that was portrayed by this man. Green tunic sat over a lighter green shirt, which in itself was slightly covered by the cloak. His leather breeches were worn, the dust upon them from the road and many nights within the embrace of his goddess- Nature.


Ranger, what someone might whisper softly to put position to this man. But, in truth he wore no labels, just spent his time as a lonely woodsguide for those wishing safe passages through darkened woods. Recently those woods have become restless, the beasts being turned into abomination by the myst. Something had stirred the ancient forces, unleashing upon an unsuspecting land, something more greivious then the talks of war.

His job was dangerous, yet no heed did he pay in backing away. He was raised in the wilderness, and may die their some day aswell. Alec was his name, that given to him by his parents and one they knew him by. All knew him, for he was their guide through the forsaken forest that loomed not far away.

Soft eyes looked forth from the shadowy interior of his hood, brown hair spilt out and fell about his clavicles. He picked a table free from the usuall ruckess and knights that frequented this establishment. Sitting upon a chair, his back relaxed and leaned against the wall. His eyes would look up as his head fell back, muscles ached from his previous track. A good nights rest was warrented, and perhaps a drink. A black glove rose, signaling the closest barmaid to his position. " A mug of ale, and perhaps a bowel of the finest spiced taters."

Tiear Lithe, the bartender and owner of the Gilded Lilly, would look up from cleaning a fresh glass. An order had been issued and brought in word by the Barmaid. And so he would pour some of Ale into a mug, making sure it mostly liquid and not foam. The customer was known to be the Ranger Alec, again gracing these halls from his recent expedition. More tales of bravery, of mystical monsters, and of fighting. This man was known for such stories, they made the kids happy and seemed to entertain the other patrons. It was normal for a part of such monsters, or perhaps some new treasure to be showed aswell. His business was often dangerous to earn him money and insane titles.

He just merely lifted a lip in a smile, such was the stories of all anymore. He gave her the mug, it would be brought to the customer post haste. Later would come the famous spiced taters that he made. Such was a famous dish in these parts, since then all food usually comes with them by ask of the consumer. He gave a slight sigh, and watched the barmaids take more orders.

Drink in the eternal beauty of the night.......

A man held only the fame of his making, those who sit back in life only watch it slip by. To truely make others know your name is to take the bull by the horns and make life watch you pass by.


Words this man lived by, not to make a name for himself, but just so he leaves something behind should death come calling. Fame, it was all just a ballooning of ones ego. Fortune, empty vessels for the greed that corrupted the souls of mortal man. To hold a name everyone knew, that placed a target upon your back. A place for a knife of another looking to make a name. And so little would know this travelers name... only referred to him by names he makes up for each personality he picks to show the world. Gar...Malcom...Zeras, all just words that fit a playing role in a world called paragon.

So it was and would be until the end, names easily forgotten by the annals of history. Eyes that shone like rubies would be hidden behind green eyes. His form seemed rugged, yet still young enough to be imposing should he lift up to his full height. Those eyes stared up at the stars, the constellations standing out depending on the time of years cycle. Glorious and always full of mystery, they seemed small diamond colored eyes watching lifes play. As if awaiting the parts that were exciting or sad enough to catch their roaming eyes. Angels up on high, witnessing the mans hold upon a world that was in constant flux. Changes, cataclysms.... all were witnessed by the higher beings.

A sigh came from him, as he rose up, from his sitting spot under an old oak. His clothes were full of road dust, and his cloak was tattered from long travels. Onward his feet would take him, the old leather boots seeming to sqeal from long over use. Into the light of the tavern he would come, opening the door with swift movements beyond his looks. Inside he slowed his pace, and again nestled into the cloak, his form lowering in stature. Takeing a seat, his form would slide into a booth, and order a cup of warm water. He would remove a pouch and await to place the herbs in for tea. He left a few silver and ordered a bowl of venison stew.


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Tier Lithe would boil the water and then pour it into a good sized mug. Rare was it these days for a man to ask for water in this bar. Handing the mug to a bar maid that passed by, he would begin dishing the stew into a bowel. And that two would be passed from the bar maid to the man whom awaited them. The money would be picked up and placed into her hand. Soon the money would fall onto the bar top. A smile was given to his daughter. " For this amount you will be getting refills until you stop wishing them." This would be said to the man, and then he would go back to polishing a glass
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