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HeavensDarkestAngel

Forgotten Lore Tavern and Inn

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Welcome to Forgotten Lore, a modern-time fantasy play-by-post roleplay. Strong and starting roleplayers alike are welcome to join our little community and adventure with us. All types of fantasy are welcome here as are all players. Be respectful and follow the standard rules as well as the few other rules of the establishment and enjoy the ride.

The following front pages will contain more information about the roleplay and what is and is not acceptable here. Feel free to read and ask questions if you have any.

 

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Forgotten Lore

Far from the nearest hints of civilization, you find yourself on a twisting road to somewhere. How you got there and where you are going isn't important, what matters is you are on this road now. Dark forests of ancient trees line the worn road, both menacing and intriguing at the same time. Just ahead in the distance you see a simple sign made of wood, a small dark arrow pointing to a smaller path off the side of the worn road with two words above it. Forgotten Lore. With little else to go on, but weariness that you can feel setting into your body and bones, the chance at a place to rest would be hard to pass up. Feeling just a little more adventurous than afraid, turn down the small path and see where it leads.

 

At first there is nothing but trees and the beaten path you walk on. The first clue that you are approaching something man-made is a gazebo you see off the side of the path. Ancient looking, the green and white marble structure looks like something out of a fantasy book, but as you approach you see the cracks along the stone as well as the moss growing along it's base that signify it is in fact real. Faint runes can be seen on the columns, but they are too faded to make out clearly.  Who built it, and for what purpose, remains a mystery.

 

A soft light, visible from where you stand in front of the gazebo, illuminates the way down the path. Following it, you come to a small clearing not that much further down the path. White granite rises from the ground almost as if formed from the earth itself, the form of a long two story building nestled against the ground in a gentle depression. At one time at stronghold, the building has been carefully reformed into two joined, if very distinct, sections. As you face the building the section on the left has regularly spaced windows set in the white-grey stone where as the section on the right is solid all the way up. The roof slants at a gentle angle and is too made of stone overlaid by weathered grey wood planks giving the structure an almost residential look.

 

On the left side, the visible windows are thick glass of an older style, the panes are wavy and distort any images seen through them quite badly, but allow light to pass. The window frames and slats are made of cast iron and look quite sturdy, though they do not allow the windows to be opened. The granite here is pitted in some places from what appears to be battle damage. There are also scorch marks fading in the slow march of time. Though not evident now, the building has seen its fair share of violence, and survived.

 

The right side of the building shows signs of aging and damage from violence as well, though the only thing to see on it appears to be an entrance. A set of heavy wooden doors with iron bands across the top and bottom. Though very solid and heavy, the doors are counter-balanced to swing open easily with minimal effort. The wood is dark in color like that of teak and the iron is a deep black, matching the round pull handles of the door. Above the heavy doors is a burned-wood sign with the simple text "Forgotten Lore". Above the sign on either end is a simple glass and iron lamp providing illumination.

 

If you are brave enough to venture behind the building, there you would find a large pond of serene water. Calm enough to almost look like glass, the water's surface radiated a slight fog. Whether this was because the water was warm or from some other factor was not immediately clear. To the right of the large pond stands what appears to be a stable. At least eight stalls can be seen from the open doors, which face the back of the building. Soft lights burn in the stables, hinting that the stalls are well equipped for any equine visitors. The buildings would seem empty, but the soft glow of light from some of the old windows would give the impression that someone was there. There is no sense of malice around the building, no sense of foreboding or trespassing on its grounds.

 

Coming back to the doors by the sign, a simple touch would open the doors before you. This entrance opens directly into the tavern area, which comprises the entire right section of the building. To the left of the entrance are the hewn stone stairs leading to the second level, on the right are booths and two pool tables. Directly in front of the entrance are tables made of dark wood with matching wooden chairs and the bar. The bar is made of black marble with black leather upholstered stools in front of it. The area behind the bar could be accessed by a swinging door at the end of the bar on the right side. By the end of the bar, a simple swinging metal door lead to what was presumably the kitchen area. Male and female restrooms are in the back right corner. The entrance to the left section of the building is located on the left side wall between the stairs and the bar.

 

If you were to open the door leading to the other side of the building, you would find yourself in hallway with six rooms leading from it. Staggered down the hall, the rooms each feature solid teak doors with individual skeleton key locks. Each room is furnished with two full-size beds, large dresser, mini-fridge, and a moderate sized bathroom with shower cubicle. If you were to take the stairs, there is a small landing where the stairs from the first floor terminates in front of the door leading to the second floor of the left section with a separate door leading to what appeared to be a private loft. The loft is directly above the kitchen and spans from the far right wall to the wall dividing the left and right sections. A small private balcony is directly above the bar with access from the loft.

 

Simple, yet with the distinct feeling of safety, Forgotten Lore stands as a haven for the weary and a place where those seeking to relax could do so in relative peace. It goes without saying that there was more to Lore than the eye could immediately see, but the secrets and tales of the Tavern and Inn were as silent as the stone the building was made out of. Perhaps they would, one day, be uncovered.

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The softest whisper of wind blew through the empty space once called a bar. The long dormant tables and chairs poised as if resting before the next day to come, only to have been forgotten. Long had it been since any living being had stepped into these halls and rooms. Not even the small footprints of animals could be found in the layer of dust coating all the fixtures, furniture, and surfaces present in the building. It was as if time for this place had simply left one night and forgotten to come back. Ironic that Forgotten Lore was, in turn, nothing more than an ill-remembered scribble in the history of this place. Forgotten indeed.

As the whisper of wind made its way across the room, the soft sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the empty space, followed by a door slowly creaking open. Silver moonlight streamed in through the freshly parted door, growing from a faint sliver to a wide beam across the dusty floor. A black shadow stood in the doorway, blocking the haunting moonlight with the shape of a man for a moment. The figure in the doorway said nothing, choosing instead to look over the empty room as if it still contained the energy and people that his memories of this place did. A few snippets of memory came to mind, ghostly images and sounds playing for a moment before fading to nothingness again. This was both home and a foreign place to the figure, though for him it would be impossible to put to words.

With a barely audible sigh, the figure stepped through the open doorway and strode towards the bar. The swish of his cloak hovering just above the dusty floor and the soft echoing taps of his greaves were the only sounds to be heard. Upon reaching the familiar black marble bar, his armored right hand came up to stroke the stone almost longingly. This place had been a source of income, of interaction, and even belonging to him for a while. Now it was nothing more than empty stone and forgotten paths through dark woods. Nostalgia was bittersweet, painful and comforting. He had come here seeking refuge. Seeking healing. Comfort. For a time he found those things here, now there was nothing for him. Nothing for anyone really.

"Been a while, old friend," his steely voice whispered, though in the silence it was almost a shout. "I never mean to be away from the things I create for so long..." Lucien shook his head. "Yet I never seem able to return like I want. When I am able to return, it is often long after the life has left that which I want to see again." Silence enveloped the room again, wrapping the sullen Fallen Angel like a stifling blanket. At one time there was always some sort of sound here. A pulse, so to speak, of the life of Lore. Now there was nothing, the business as dead as the stone the building was made of. Lucien couldn't help but look around again, seeing faces from the past surface like reflections on a pond before disappearing as if evaporating.

"It was here that I would come when I needed shelter from the world. In giving shelter, food, and advice to others I felt like I could escape my troubles for a while. Been more than just a solider on a battlefield. Even though the battlefield never followed me here, something still took its toll on this place. On me. The day I last walked through those doors was not meant to be the last for years. In fact I'm sure I had meant to come back far, far sooner than I did. Before coming back here meant coming back to nothing but emptiness." A soft shake of his head sent his crimson locks flicking over his shoulder. "Not that it matters now. Time, as always, has slipped away from me. Now there is nothing but memories and dust here." A deep, sad sigh escaped the man as he stood there. "Perhaps one day I'll be able to revive this, reinvent the idea of this place. One day. Right now, however, I cannot."

Turning back for the door, Lucien cast his eyes to the floor he walked on. Other than his own footprints, nothing had left any evidence of ever coming here. Maybe it was the best idea to just let this place fade from memory. Maybe it wasn't. That answer he was still working out, still thinking about. He'd have to make it soon, but not just yet. As he reached the door, he paused, half wondering if he should lock the door. Then again, nothing had come in years so why would he? The soft rustle of his wings sliding from beneath his cloak was the last sound that entered to abandoned place as the door swung shut.

Edited by HeavensDarkestAngel
color was hard to read

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Just as he had came, so had the snow.

Thick gray clouds had muffled the sun's rays, instead blanketing the earth with a white dust. Large flakes came in chunks and began sticking to the ground before him. Not far off stood a woman, her skin as pale as a porcelain doll. Locks of wavy hair was as white as the snow falling around them. A long white laced dress hung off her lithe frame and sprawled behind her like a wedding dress.

Crystal blue eyes watched him for a moment, her breathe clouding around her with each warm air she released. It looked as though she was holding on to a rope the stretched to a larger animal behind her. A black horse that dug at the ground and moved its head anxiously.

"So that's it?" She seemed to answer him, "You're leaving for good? Or for the winter?"

A curious look appeared across her once emotionless face, "I was wondering if I might take shelter here. It's rather cold and I have gotten lost in this area, it seems."

---Reply---

"Splendid." The woman smiled, accepting his terms. With that she simply looked at him and raised her hand. The creature that stood behind her dissipated into nothing more than smoke.

"I appreciate the gesture. Those who are kind are usually the most rewarded." The white haired woman moved to lift her dress, revealing white boots that she had been tracking through the snow in. When she reached the steps she held out her hand to him, "My name is Trinity, nice to meet you--?"

There was something eerie and familiar about her, though at first glance she just looked like some kind of snow elf. Her pointed ears protruded from the side of her hair with silver piercing laced around them. "Do you own this place?"

 

---Start from where we were at---

YOU: Lucien tilted his head slightly as the horse dissipated. He was no stranger to magic, though he supposed he must be a bit rusty at feeling its presence in others if he hadn't noticed that the horse was a construct, rather than a living creature. Well, he had been away from practically anything alive for quite some time, so it was possible he was just rusty in general. He'd have to do something about that. Possibly.

As she introduced herself, he realize that he hadn't provided the same courtesy to her. It seemed it wasn't just his magical prowess that was in question at the moment. He took the offered hand when she approached, feeling no hostility from her or other reason to be apprehensive. There was an eerie quality to her that he couldn't put to words, and would be remiss in doing so anyway as it would be terribly rude.

"My name is Lucien. A pleasure to meet you Trinity," he told her with a polite smile and firm handshake. "I am the owner and proprietor of this establishment, though I fear that it isn't much to look at now. Nothing of its former glory, as the saying goes." He released her hand and turned back to the doors, pushing one of the heavy double doors open in a welcoming gesture. "Please come inside. Again, pardon the dust and general emptiness. I'll get to work on that as soon as I've gotten you a drink perhaps? On the house, of course."

As he spoke, candles in sconces along the walls all lit at once, providing a warm light to fill the place. A warm breeze swept through the bar from where they stood towards the door leading to the kitchen, taking most of the dust with it as it powered through the door and out of the building. He wasn't trying to show off, he merely wanted to give the lady a clean place to sit while he got a room more or less acceptable and ready for guests. "Are you hungry, Trinity? I can't claim to be the best cook, since I'm not able to even try most of my own dishes, but I have been told I'm a quite passable cook nonetheless."

 

---START---

"Too kind." She grinned like a proper lady and made her way inside. As she did the candles seemed to light themselves. Seems she was in the presence of another magic user. That felt comforting at least.

The snow looking woman took the features of the old place. The smell of old wood made her close her eyes and take in memories that ceased to exist. 

"I miss old places." She finally answered him, "Let's start with a drink." a small chuckle escaped her as he offered his cooking skills.

If she could keep the feeling of warmth and nostalgia then maybe this place would have life in it yet. After all, that is what she would have found most pleasant. Little did he know the ghost he was soon to share a drink with would be non other than an old acquaintance.  They had been nothing more over the course of centuries at least in her eyes. He was not in the picture, at least not in the front. However right now he was, and certainly someone that offered her a kind hand when it seemed the world only continued to turn colder.

"Lucien, tell me a story, it can be about yourself or of this place."

 

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Lucien looked over at his guest as she looked around the abandoned tavern, lost to her own memories. He wasn't sure what she meant by 'old places', but at least she didn't seem to mind the lack of anyone inhabiting his place of business. Whatever she saw here, it was more than the nostalgic sadness that gripped him at the silence of the halls and coldness of the empty stone. At least he wasn't fully alone in this place now.

 

When she asked for a drink he nodded with a welcoming smile and took a few steps to get to the familiar space behind the bar. He wasn't sure what it was she would want, but being in this old haunt of his made him want an old drink of his. "What can I get for you, Trinity?" he asked as he reached for a mixing glass for himself. He checked the small fridge he kept under the bar for his personal use, seeing the hanging bags of preserved blood. It wasn't as good as fresh, of course, but it was better than nothing. He took his favorite bottle of vodka out as well as a single packet of almost black blood from the fridge. Demon blood. He hoped that this didn't disturb his guest, but he was feeling like he could use a little nourishment at the moment. Filling the glass with the dark blood, he mixed in a generous portion of vodka and stirred the two together absentmindedly as he waited for her drink order.

 

Hm, a story? While not the oddest request he'd gotten while behind this black marble bar, it was the first time he could think of that someone asked for a story from him. Though he felt more at ease around her than he normally would a stranger, he didn't quite feel comfortable telling any tales about himself just yet. A story about Lore would have to do for now. "Well, this is Forgotten Lore," he told her with a wave around the bar.  "When I first came upon this building sitting here, it was little more than a shell with a ruined interior. I thought it odd that so much effort and time could be spent on someplace like this only to be ultimately forgotten about. Almost like the stories we tell our children and our friends fading through time. At first I just came here to find solitude, and perhaps even a bit of peace. I didn't want to share my little nook with anyone or let anything disturb it."  He chuckled softly. "As I'm sure you can imagine, that didn't last as long as I thought it would. A friend of mine followed me here one day, curious to see where I disappear to when I'm not out and visible in the public eye I suppose. Much to my surprise, she found a sense of solace and tranquility in this location much as I had. After talking a bit about it, we decided that there was just something about this place that put people at ease, even if we couldn't explain why. That talk eventually became the idea of creating a sort of haven for people who wanted a touch of that peace and tranquility, which ended up becoming an idea to open an inn. I'm not much of an innkeeper, but the idea of having a bar...well that was something I've toyed with for a while. So I combined the two and built this place up to what you see now. For a while it was even a little lively, though I would never go so far as to say it was popular. A place for me and a few friends and acquaintances to rest and escape the world for a bit." He sighed and shook his head, looking around at the empty space that it was now.  "You couldn't tell it now, but this was a sort of home for me. Even have my own quarters right up there," he told her as he pointed out his loft. "Then I got pulled away, as happens with my life. I knew I would be away, but not for as long as it turned out to be. Its been years since I last stepped foot in here. And it shows."

 

He hadn't meant to ramble on like that. It was like he started talking and the story just took hold of him, wanting to express itself with or without his consent. He hoped he hadn't bored his guest with his long-winded speech. That would be more than a little rude.

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Trinity put her hands behind her back and seemed to walk around the property as if it were an antique shop. She closed her eyes and continued her pacing, though it seems she really didn’t need to see where she was going. Instead she took in what he said, imagining the crowds, the tranquility of talk after a long day of working. Just as the tavern had possessed him, she could feel that it wanted to be heard. Yet, there was also something very lonely about it, possibly even some heartache it had experienced.

It had been as most places had in this world, once full of family and strangers alike that found solace in gathering. When she finally opened her ice blue eyes, she landed on him again.

“A drink, something to warm me, whiskey perhaps.”

She hadn’t directly addressed his story, though she was contemplating what to say.

“This place may never see that kind of crowd again. However, I could see new people finding tranquility in it. We often lose our ways and run as far as possible to get away from it all.” Clearly she spoke as though she had done the same thing.

“I know that feeling well.” She finally smiled and approached what would be a counter to possibly get that drink she had insisted upon.

“I feel free, yet so lost at the same time, have you ever felt that way Lucien?” 

 

@HeavensDarkestAngel

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Lucien watched Trinity as she paced around the inside of the tavern. He knew that she was listening to his story, but he made no effort to elicit a response from her. She had asked to hear of this place and its past, it would not upset him if she merely used his words as a filler for the empty space between these stone walls. He met her gaze when it finally landed on him, her drink order sounding tentative, but at least it was something to go on.

 

"Whiskey it is, then" he replied with a nod. He fetched first a glass, finding one easily enough. The bottles of alcohol sat upon the shelves were they had been left the last night he and the others had been here. Dust accumulated and dimmed the labels, but the motions were almost automatic for the old bar owner. His reach was met with a crystal  bottle, not one of the cheaper glass bottles that housed manufactured whiskey fit only to induce alcoholic haze. This one was hand crafted, a higher quality than most would understand and even fewer would appreciate. Something about his visitor told him that these qualities would not be lost upon the person he served it to. Once her glass held whiskey, he passed it to her.

"What once was is likely never to be the same after time passes," he told her with a sad smile. "It is not that I want things to return to what they once were. I suppose it is just the fading of things that I once held dear that causes me some amount of pain. Nostalgia perhaps." He shrugged, taking another sip of his crimson cocktail. He watched her approach the bar, still not sure what it was about her that seemed...ethereal. And familiar. "I've always found it funny that it is when we feel the most free that we also feel the most lost. Well most of us, I think. I've met a few that turn even that expectation upside-down for the sheer hell of it." He chuckled softly at the thought. "I can't say that this little humble inn is the furthest anyone can run away from trouble, since often it finds its own way here, but I will say that you are welcome to stay as long as you like. Any guests here are welcome to this little piece of solace I've found, and to the best of my ability I will keep Lore as neutral and safe for as many as I can. As I once wished and worked towards, no matter who you are or why you come to Lore there will be safety and serenity here waiting for you."

 

@Dreamer

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