.

Fatalsnare. The Buxom BarKeep enters the tavern and crosses the room. Her delicate face framed by full, long dark tresses that cascade down her back. A thinly plaited leather braid sits just above her eyebrows that have the graceful arch of a raptor's wings in flight. Dark are her eyes but like leaves in an autumn fall often change with spots of various hues.

She is wearing a silk ankle length gown...a soft tawny bronze colour that highlights her eyes. It is rouched up the side and the hem gently scallops. Her dainty feet are clad in bronze sandals with two straps crossing over her slender ankles. A deeply cut cream bodice....intricately patterned in lace and scalloped underneath, is a startling contrast to the rest of the gown. Overtop loosely she wears a light cream full length robe.

She meets your gaze and holds it with her own. Searching it as if searching your soul. In her eyes you see something that attracts you...a passion...a passion which courses through her and burns in her soul. A warning flashes briefly as you look deep into her eyes. You see a web of mystery and you feel yourself being drawn like a magnet. She smiles alluringly and speaks softly...."Welcome m'lord to Bloodbane Tavern."

Solstice enters the tavern and smiles. In the guise of Winter she is heavily veiled by the season.... At present she is a light mist but can be a heavy rain..... the shortest day or the snow that lies upon thine ground.. But hibernating waiting for the warmth.. is the seed of Spring.

In a warming voice Sol sings.. And in the Winter..... Far beneath the bitter snow.... Lies a Seed that with the Sun's love.... In the Spring becomes The Rose.

Wicked Night. A half-demon, half-man his mother was a succubi, his father a Rogue Warrior... A charming & enchanted individual.. When not in Bloodbane, he resides in Hell where he rules with a cold heart & quick tongue...

It was here....in this dark abyss, that he met the only one who touched his heart like no other had in years.. He made her his Queen & she ruled for a short time by his side... He watched her over time as the light from her eyes grew dim, and a coldness replaced them. He knew she was not truly happy in this world and and his heart saddened as he watched her, her eyes no longer twinkling, but sad and forlorn. He knew she sought something, but knew not what.

Not wishing to confine her, he let her go... and in doing so he then drove the curious wanderers out from his lands and only retained a few minions...A desolate place it once was when he first found it, it now is once again... it serves as nothing more than a tormentor of his true self, it only helps to remind him how alone he truly is...

Bhelliom appears...her black eyes stark in the soft grey mysts which dissipate to reveal her form. Her raven hair cascades around her sapphire satin gowns. Her smooth skin of her small figure reflects the light of Loch`th'naer, her amulet of a sapphire dragon gilt with gold resting high at her neck. She takes off her heavier outer garb, revealing a white satin dress, fitted with a tight bodice laced with ribbon. She places her outer garb on her arm and smiles to all in greetings. She sweeps a curtsy low and looks up, the eyes of the WhiteTiger flashing quickly before returning to their normal hue. She is a woman of many faces, many forms and many feelings. Beware of the Sapphire Rose.

A transformation of the High Priestess, Bhelliom, occurs as her mysts surround her. As they clear, SilverTalon looks to all - her ebony pupils stark against her silver eyes. She straightens, her crystal scales of pure sapphire capturing and reflecting any light that surrounds her. Her feathered ears sit back against her scales, her smooth wings stretching out then folding again. She stands on her legs, her head upright and proud, her silver breast bright and swelled with the fire of Loch`th'naer. She raises her right arm, her silver talons stretched out in greeting and warning. "Behold the Sapphire Dragon!"

Darkfire. The elven prince Garrick Darkfire of the city of Yale. Very rarely seen out of his blue and black dragonscale armour, he is more than equipped to deal with just about any situation that arises. And that which he cannot solve with his rapid tongue, he can always try with his silver sword Escalier. But for all his impressive exterior, he is still a boy at heart. Only 19 years old, he still holds a mischievous gleam in his friendly blue eyes most of the time, and is always ready with a quick response and a lopsided grin. Above all, Darkfire is dedicated to help any who need him, and whilst not a knight, he is something of a self forged paladin for all who call upon his help for a righteous cause.

RasitaRascel is a 5'6" half elf. She has long white hair which is occasionally tied back with a spare piece of leather she keeps handy for these such occasions. She has brilliant emerald eyes which contrast well with her fair skin and slim figure. She can occasionally be seen wearing a dress but that is a rarity as she likes to swing among the rafters and it would not be wise to wear a dress while swinging. As Wandering would say, "Your frillies are showing".

More often then not she can be seen wearing a full length black cat suit, some elven mail and a few weapons. The weapons consist of - a long staff, bastard sword, belt containing 5 throwing blades, a steihl knife and a dagger hidden in a forearm guard. This is all that would be visible to the naked eye. Some other weapons that she carries are her hands (they be tools of pleasure and pain), her magic (still in training) and her ability to change into a large black panther.

Randa enters, long midnight blue cloak swirling around her ankles, the hood drawn over her head, all that can be seen of her is two brilliant blue eyes and a pair of red lips contrast against her dark features.

Randa is a friend and confident of the late Rasita. She comes from a land unknown by any other, a land of beauty, a land of mystery, where the dragons fly freely and the ground is fertile. She is but a humble farmer with only her knowledge of the land and the animals upon it as her guide..

Randa's skin is soft even though she toils many a hour under the harsh sun. Her dark features and brilliant blue eyes give you the impression of a sweet, caring woman, who would not hurt a fly, let alone another living person. Her hair strangely tinged green, the true colour undistinguishable, hangs loosely down her back, stoping at her waist.

Randa wraps her cloak tightly around herself and walks quickly, exiting into the crisp night air.

Dragonfire walks into the room clad in a long flowing silk black skirt, that is cut on both sides exposing her smooth strong thighs, which is tied on with a silver chain. Her bosom, held and covered by a small black leather corset, are firm and delicate. Her auburn hair hangs loosely down to her buttocks. In her gauntleted hand she holds a steel long sword, which she puts away, and at her waist a white hunting blade hangs.

Bloodfang is a large, pale skinned man with long black hair that reaches down to his shoulders. He stands 7'2" and weighs 587 lbs. He is encased in great ebony black armor with a gold collar. Under the armor is a physique that would rival Atlas himself. A long black cape with red interior is worn on his shoulders. At his side is the mighty demon sword "GodSlayer" which he wields with complete respect for the blades power.

He suddenly appears in a aura of black light. His cape flaps lightly behind his awesome black armor in a wind that isn't there. The emperor of Blood Empire places his fist over his heart in a salute to all, and to show his honour.

Owl. 207 years ago, a thief named Wyrrawaul stole a Sorcerer’s woman. Caught, he was cursed into the form of an owl until he learned wisdom. Owl after all this time, is still seeking wisdom. Owl prefers night and has three favourite perches; his tree in #dark_forests, the rafters in #Bloodbane_tavern and Ug’s shoulder when he has an ale in his hand. His overwhelming curiosity has gotten him into trouble more than once. So too has his perculiar sence of humour.

Owl is rumoured to be the Guild Master of the Night Wing in dark forests. His alter ego - Wyrrawaul is also rumoured to be the best locksmith in all of dark forests. Owl smiles and dosn’t confirm or deny anything.

This raptor of the night fears only two things, buying flowers in dark forests and the dreaded and fearsome VIXEN pack. Even Ug’s mighty club pales in comparision to the deadly feathers weilded so merclessly by the VIXEN pack’s leaders - Vixen and Harlotte.

Tirilen enters the room and looks around at the others, her long auburn hair is tied back and green eyes are flashing, dressed in hunting leathers, an eleven bow in her hand and a short sword at her side. Tirilen removes the sword and places both it and the bow against the wall. She loosens the leather vest revealing a green shirt and the elven silver at her neck. Walking to the fireplace she warms her hands.

Wart slips out of the shadows, his hood pulled up to cover his face. You notice his fingers are continually moving as if they itch, and his bare toes are hairy, he is a small halfing dressed in black.

Here is an example of Wart in action!

Wart enters the Inn, in his hand he is carrying what seem to be a small bomb, the fuse already lit. When the bomb goes off there is no explosion like everyone expected, instead a vile green smoke fills the room. During the confusion Wart runs around swiping anything of value from the rooms inhabitants.

Wart exits the room. As the smoke clears you hear his laughter in the distance....

Slyboots enters, a young male fox who walks upright. He is dressed in black, and his eyes dart furtively around the room and every now and then they rest on someone's purse. Slyboots waves his tail in a friendly way.. and looks around for a pretty lady to charm.. one of his favourite pastimes. If he can't find a young lady to charm then a pot of mead will interest him just as much.. in fact charming young ladies and drinking mead at the same time is even more to his liking.

Ophelia sits and stares at her home, wondering at what her brothers are up to this day. The tiniest of smiles plays across her lips. How her Father would send her off to a convent high in the Mountains if he new half the things she got up to. As a small child in a large Kingdom and one always wanting to learn what her brothers learnt. But to no avail her Father was horrified to think his sweet little girl would even think of such things. Ophelia would sneak of with her brother and roam the country side, the fun they had. What he learnt off his Master Swordsman, he taught her. Until the day came when he, was the Master, of his own Master and Ophelia could just about match her Brother. She smiles as she remembers her brothers face the one and only time she came close to besting him. She opened his arm up with the tip of her sword. He looked with shock written on his face. Then laughed and then ruffled my hair.. "sis U be deadly with that sword of yours"... I beamed with pride and love for my brother. My Brother was to die the following year in a war that came to out castles gates, I mourned for his loss deeply.

3 years went by and I grew. One morning I rose from a restless sleep the sun was shinning through the window its warmth caressing in its brightness. I lay there and rolled onto my side for a second, then I moved the sheets falling back to let the freshness of the morning lays it hands on my skin. I rose and slowly walked to my secret hiding place I took out the box from within and ran my fingers along its carvings, opening its lid and sliding the sheathed sword from its bed. Moving to the window and the sun, my thoughts far away, unsheathing the sword her fingers feeling like they had come home caressing in there hold. Dressing quickly laying the sword over her back, Ophelia slips from the castle walls and into the freshness of the new day. Wondering at what the world held, and in it what it held for her.

NightWolf. Born of a minor-ranking house, he was trained in the art of Drow swordplay and magecraft but after being found guilty of treason for befriending a dwarf and refusing to kill an innocent, was exiled and ordained to be sacrificed to Lloth, the Spider Queen. He was jailed to be executed three days hence. His mentors in steel and magic saw in him too great a talent to destroy and within hours of his condemnation was freed, but with the cost of having his remembrance of his youth erased.

Left upon the surface with only adamantite elfin chain-mail in a small wooded area he was found and taken in by an elderly half-elven ranger who taught him skills in forrestry and archery. Much of his learning in magecraft was lost with his memory of youth but his instinct with the blades remained with him. During his travels he developed an affinity for the wolf and acquired a set of elemental weapons which he carries with him always using both to protect himself from infrequent attacks from his former brethren.

Standing at 6'7, with golden eyes characteristic long, white hair and clothed in a heavy, forrest green, hooded cloak which is held at the neck with a wolf, beautifully crafted gold, tanned leather pants and the elfin chain-mail, he now resides in the tavern and is the beloved of Laurana.

Yaksha strides into Bloodbane Tavern quickly taking a seat by the warm fire..trying to keep himself warm from the raging blizzard outside! He unstraps his cloak from his shoulders and hangs it by the wall. Clearing his throat he says in a deep voice, "Greetings my fellow friends, I'm Yaksha, at your service. But beware for you shalln't what to mess with me, OR ELSE!"

Yaksha is a consummate technician in the art of martial arts. He follows the way of the ninja and is highly skilled in karate and judo. He seeks adventure in the heart of danger, often risking his live in such situations. He had also been trained the use of all sorts of weapons.

Yaksha is carrying a long ninjitsu sword hidden behind his cloak. He also carries two twin daggers, their tips poisoned with arsenic, kept in his belt. He also is hiding three ninja stars in his boots, their edges sharp as diamonds!

Ug is an eight foot troll with huge muscles and long wild hair. His powerful upper arm is tattooed boldly with dark trollish glyphs. He wears a loincloth, a pair of ug boots in winter and carries a great club.

Unlike most trolls this one is semi-civilised and has a great love of good company (humans, elves, dwarfs, halflings and dragons all included), you can't accuse Ug of being racist. 'Bloody orcs!'

When Ug is not out rampaging, pillaging and carrying fair maidens off to his cave (not to mention lusty wenches), he likes to relax with his friends over a keg or two of ale and a boar roasted to perfection on an open spit.

Rakky, proud and defiant Lionatuar. All of his actions are guided by honor and a sense of doing what is right, even when others disagree. He was formerly King of Tarna, but he was wounded whilst battling a demon wizard and ceded the throne to his brother, Rajah.

He left his land of Tarna following the demons until he came across the land of Aranor, and Bloodbane Tavern. He decided to settle down, and live in this land. Whether it is from the lure of the friendly patrons, or the lure of free milk, he will never know.

Rakeesh now sits as a member of the Bloodbane family, one he loves greatly, and as Chief Paladin of the Aranor section of the Seven Spheres.

Natalya flaps in on her huge silver dragon and leaps to the ground from it's back. It flies away, but Natalya enters the area. She wears a white silken tunic, with armlets at her elbows and wrists. She has a dark coloured vest on which goes down like a tunic, but past her leather belt, it is like a skirt, it has a few inches of the silken tunic coming out at the bottom, and the skirt is loose enough to move around comfortably. She has her sword hung at her belt.

Natalya has on knee high fawn coloured boots, she has on a solid gold necklace around her neck. She smiles her all famous smile in which she is known for. Natalya smiles as she wears the SnowHawk pendant proudly and she has a hawk or bird of prey glove on her left arm, which is where her hawk, Dermott, can land when he wants to. She smiles to all and walks over to the hearth, standing nearby it as she greets the people.

Loial son of Arent, son of Halan. A 90 year old Ogier (not Ogre), who stands 9'6" tall, away from his steading, looking for adventure to write about in his book. Loial is one of the few remaining Ogier's who still have the ability for tree-singing. Ogier's are also known as Builders (Stone Masons).

A-Gira with a species that died at the hands of the Skeksies, A-Gira seemingly alone set out on a quest. She sought to find another male gelfling her plan to replenish her kind, through her wanderings and travels she chanced upon a tavern, it was here she found love.

A-Gira's eyes glisten like the setting sun, her raven locks whispering wildy about her, a gentle smile beckons all close, the glisten in her eyes promises desires untold, the smile upon her lips playful, mysterious, taunting and yearning to be kissed......... but listen to the little voice that speaks into your mind:

"A Warning given only once, of the man that holds her dear, beware the wrath of Prince Korraad, for he is a man to fear.."

SwordsMan enters and greets all with a bow, strides forward his bronze chest plate thrust forward gleaming in the light, an amulet of MORARTH regal in design and with powers untold hangs from his neck, his height dwarfs most and casts a shadow across the room. "Equinox" his sword, forged from Togarthian steel is slung along with a staff "Equality" made of oak from the forests of Yale and Silver blades at each end across his back, his Gaelic looks give him long dark hair and deep blue eyes.

Louis enters the tavern and hangs up his black cloak. He stands briefly wearing a white silk shirt with frilled cuffs and collar, he has a black crushed velvet waist coat and all the other aristocratic attire. A black ribbon ties his brown hair back, he smiles to the patrons letting slip a white flash of fang.

Louis, the blood child of Lastat has been tormented by the soul of his father, in his struggle to regect or control his new found power some have been hurt. Struggling to go on living Louis found inspiration in a young vampire called Yasmin and to her he is truly thankful. He takes death seriously and always will but knows peace only when he kills lusting for blood to keep him sane. louis the vampire continues the struggle.

Lady Elli. A curvaceous young woman, her limited years on this earth belying the experiences she has had, sits quietly by the fire, her long, straight red hair, shot through with strands of cooper, gold and bronze, glowing lightly in its dancing lights, and a pale ivory visage smiling softly. She observes all around her with sapphire blue eyes, gentle and intelligent.

Lady Ellianna Isobel du Gavriel, (Lady Elli to most), has an almost aristocratic mien about her, but this has been tempered by past tragedies in her life. She walks alone on the world, with no partner, kith nor kin, with her enchanted sword Alithial, which she keeps hidden under velvet cloak. Lady Elli is a powerful and well skilled Healer, who diverts energies inherent in nature to mend broken bodies and spirits; she also has the powers of empathy and mind healing, as well as being able to mind speak and read thoughts (but only with permission). The skills and crafts of magery she is continually refining, as these are powers she needs to learn more of, and she also tries to sing well and play the instruments her mentor taught her.

But there is one power she is not able to control all the time- her shape shifting. Once her temper is lost, it is all controlling, but when she is the mistress of Hellenthielle, dragon lady, her alter ego she is able to communicate with her dragon and forest creature friends, and her magery and healing skills are strengthened. Lady Elli believes that her faith, generosity and belief in honour and friendship will lead her to a happy destiny in Bloodbane Tavern.

Zaxares glides in the door, bringing with him a smell of sulphur on the breeze. Flowing robes of midnight hue cover his slender form, the material seeming to absorb the light that falls upon it. He throws back the cowl, revealing eyes the color of glowing amber that stare out from under slanted eyelids. Jet black hair falls to his shoulders, framing an almond-shaped face the color of well-aged ivory. He tucks a curious medallion inside his robes, resembling a jade serpent biting its own tail, on a chain of pure gold. As one watches, the snake almost seems to writhe with a life of its own, but as you stare further at it, it remains still, its deep green hue reflecting the light off it.

A tall staff rests in his right hand, which he grasps occassionally as if for reassurance. The staff is carved from ebony, topped by an obsidian orb in the shape of a skull. He runs a hand over the lines in the head of the staff, tracing its mystical paths with his finger. Twin red glows appear in the sockets, giving off an eerie light. Zaxares takes his hand off the skull, and the lights instantly fade, but not before everyone in the room feels slightly shaken from the experience.

Zaxares hails as one of the red dragons, though unlike others of his race, he enjoys the company of humans and their like. He holds the title of Lord of Valkrasias, where as Mage of the Midnight Tower, he rules over a small state far to the east. Despite his responsibilties, he still finds time for his mate Stylph, and his three children Aeolus, Avarith and Kalyses. Loyalty and respect are the gifts he shares with his friends, but rare are those who attain his friendship.

Often questioned is to the source of his powers, far beyond the ken of men or even dragons. Rumors speak of the dark path he once led to acquire these powers, though whether this is true has yet to be proven…

Daniel Kilthric walks throught the tavern door into the parlour. He stands 6'2 weighs 170 pounds. Fair haired with green eyes and a broad smile. A softly spoken young man, seventeen years of age but one who has worked hard and seen much through these young eyes. His body is well muscled and firm from years of hard toil on his humble parents farm. He loved the freedom of the farm, the horses and the herds, and the smell of the land.

He was in the field ploughing one day, when the ghost of Damon Correy visited him in much distress, and bade him follow. He led him to Bloodbane tavern and it was he who had to break the news to the patrons, of their friends death. Immediately they accepted him into their family, as is their way. He is now the handyman of the tavern and runs Bloodbane Stables, and he knows that he will always be guided by the Spirit of Damon Correy.

SabreWolf, Once a gentle sorceror named Julius from the land of Frebes who indulged in the arts of magic, a mysterious talent which he seemed to posess since birth. Sabrewolf was a human of 5'11" and average stature with jet black hair almost reaching his back. One day he delved too deep in ancient runes better left unread. He summoned by chance, an evil goddess from the underworld who did not take kindly to being invoked. In her fiery wrath, the goddess bannished him from his homeland and transformed him into an arctic wolf.

He adopted the alias SabreWolf, and travelled through blizzards and storms to find a new home. In his beast-form, he walks on all fours and traits of k-9 alertness and vicious rage burn within him. His azure fur provides him with a beautiful coat, his brown eyes betray his fearsome appearance by revealing the kind human he once was. Occasionally his natural art of sorcery revisits him, and he is able to utilize his mana to return to human form.

His travels eventually led him to the land of Aranor, to a village and a tavern set in the treetops. It is here, where he finds peace.

NightWarrior enters Bloodbane quietly, as he shuts the door at the entrance. He is from the land of all warriors, where people fought in wars day after day. There was no peace during the time where he lived. Therefore he came to thine tavern to seek peace. He also hopes that the happiness of thine tavern would make him forget all his bad memories.

NightWarrior walks in carrying a sword at his belt, and his heavy polished boots click on the polished floor. He is wearing an old coat underneath all his other clothing and his armour, as the night out there is unbearably cold.

Aethra slinks into the room and turns to its inhabitants. Her black painted lips form a half smile, half smirk, revealing two sharp white fangs. She wears a long black crushed velvet dress and black thigh high boots. Her bright green eyes stand out against her gaunt white face. Her jet black hair is loosely tied back with a piece of purple silk.

Pegasus, the steed who carries the great and the good, his brilliant white pelt remains untainted by the tyranny of the outside world. His outstretched wings comfort all who feel troubled. He sits by his ever-filled trough and talks of his travels. His knapsack is filled with his trusty flute, lumps of sugar because of his hunger pangs, and pendant from the one he loves. On his travels he looks for his home and everynight he fails and returns to bloodbane.

Arianna enters the room as a breeze and reforms herself into the beautiful form of a fair maiden. Lady Arianna is the goddess of the moon and commander of the elements, a deadly adversary but a valuable ally. She floats towards the corner and settles her self upon the ground to evaluate the surroundings... She looks around around and is framed by golden light, her white robe glowing with an aura all its own. Her hair settles and hangs below her shoulders. Her ice blue eyes pierce the soul of all who dare to stare her way.

LoneWolf materialises suddenly, his dark green tunic, brown leggings and an assortment of small traps strapped to his shirt indicates that he is a hunter of sorts. A pendant in the shape of a dragon holding a sword and bow, indicating Guardianship of the Lighthouse shines brightly over his heart, and a large golden sword strapped to his side glows softly. He shakes the dust from his light green cloak, which displays the symbol of the Kai, and looks around at the channels occupants with deep blue eyes, and a smile on his face.

Shaman, servant of honour, knight of the valiant, and friend of all those who call Bloodbane their home. A Knight of the noble house of Carana, he serves those who need his help. He stands 6'1", with light blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He wears a suit of plate armour, with a shining chrome breastplate, bearing an etched impression of his symbol, a tiger leaping. He practises his own special brand of magic, one of humor, and is able to use true magic of an incredible power when circumstances prove it necessary.

Shaman walks in and takes a seat. He bows deeply to all present then speaks loudly an clearly.... "People will tell you what the truth is all through your life, 'tis not my role to tell any of ye anything. Truth is a thing of the mind, but honour something of the soul. Never forget that it is a coincidence ye live the life ye live, and ye could be in the position of a pauper you pass and spit at. Compassion is the key m'friends, never lose site of the light that shines in the depths of your soul. That little light is what makes you, you. Never forget this.... 'Do not shed tears for me, I was not born to watch the world grow dim. Life is measured not by the passing of the years but by the deeds of men'". Shaman nods thoughtfully, and sits, his blue eyes blazing with the passion of one striving to dream the impossible dream.