The Ambermist Inn ((Open Tavern RP))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Hidden on the coast of the Dread Wastes, where few tend to tread, is an Inn. This Inn, hidden too all but those drunk enough and those persistent enough to find it. This inn shows no discrimination to any, and because of this, all are welcome. Fighting is not tolerated, and any who attempt to harm something besides themselves in this establishment will find themselves forcefully ejected out the inn, of a cliff, and into the freezing ocean below.

The Innkeep, Jade Sapbrew, is not the greatest or wisest Brewmaster in Pandaria. Her brew is neither the strongest, nor the tastiest. But it is the most unique brew, in that it uses the Amber of the Kypari tree to make it sweet as sin to the taste. This keeps the Mantid, who would normally be against an inn inside one of their sacred Kypari trees, docile and civil, even in this time of war.

Besides Pandaren and the occasional Mantid, Yaungol, Jinyu, Hozen, and Grummles also occupy the bar, each being constantly reminded to keep the others alone.

On this particular day, Jade was rather annoyed. She had been gaining rather low custom, and hadn't had a good chat in ages. And when you live in the forsaken home of the Mantid, a good conversation is a remedy for the anxiety and boredom you often suffer.

She looked around, seeing only the two very drunk, barely-concious Hozen she served earlier, and a very large, very quiet Yaungol who had yet to order a drink. These were not creatures of conversation.

She sighed, mentally preparing herself for another day of disappointment and re-washing already clean mugs to keep her mind off of what she actually felt.

She had not been in the Dread wastes long, and she did not plan on staying long. The creatures here were vicious beyond her ability, and the herb she sought was scarce and rarely unmolested by the local fauna.

When a battalion of Mantid soldier flew overhead, it was all she could do not to scream and run, but she knew better, and she stayed hidden, blanketed in shadow.

Then she saw it, a beautiful, shining Lotus, right next to one of those trees; the big ones, that the Mantid love so much. She finally had one, "This will make a fine potion" she thought, but then she noticed something. A door, carved into one of the exposed roots of the tree. It wasn't Mantid looking in architecture, but she approached tentatively. When she reached it, she paused.

She had never been anywhere as dangerous as Pandaria, she had never done anything as terrifying as fight and hide from the Mantid. But she couldn't just leave, and so she let her curiosity get the best of her. Pushing the door open, she entered... slowly.

She nearly dropped the glass to the floor when the Elf woman walked in. She was lost for words.

"Uh, w-welcome! Can I... get you a, um, drink? We don't see many of your kind around here, or um, I don't. You're one of the 'Hordes' right? All you new Allied and Horded people around here make things so... different! What's your story frie...Customer?"

She poured a mug of her finest ale and readied herself to give it to the new woman.

"If she doesn't stay and chat I'm going to die." she thought.
"I'll have a-"

Before she could finish the sentence, the Pandaren girl was thrusting an overflowing mug towards her, grinning very widely. She found this strange, but no stranger than anything else these Pandaren people do. She took a sip and nearly spit it out, but didn't. She was a gracious guest, and the ale wasn't bad, but it did resemble syrup more closely than alcohol. She just wasn't expecting it.

"Uh, interesting... very, sweet." she said as politely as possible while having a mouth full of sticky ale.

She took a seat at a stool on the bar, looking around, she noticed two very inebriated Hozen, and a Yaungol giving her the evil eye, and the Pandaren girl, grinning pleasantly as ever, literally inches away from her face.

"Wanna talk about something? Tell me about where you're from! You're a 'Bloody Elf' right? "
"My people are called Sin'Dorei, it means 'Blood Elf'. I was born and raised in the once great land of Quel'Thalas, in Silvermoon city. It was there that I learned to be a rogue, and there where my parents died at the hand of the Scourge."
"I have not heard of this 'Scourge'. Is it a sickness? Regardless, I'm very sorry to hear of your parents, and I hope you have found peace in their departure from this life."
"I thank you, and no, the Scourge are not a sickness, they're a curse, so to speak. An endless army of the mindless undead. But they're just a memory now, a bad dream. Now, I can talk more later, perhaps once this ale loosens my tongue a bit more, but until then, I'll rest here, and drink."
The Pandaren girl did her best to hide her disappointment "Oh, o-of course. Call me if you need a refill, or anything really. I'm never too busy to chat!"

Illaeh just raised her glass and nodded, taking another big swig of the sugary concoction she was now calling ale.
"Do my eyes deceive me?" Manjoni asked.

It had been a long trip on his charger, but he had finally found a small inn to rest. His armor was beaten, his spirits low, and it nearing night time in the Dread Wastes meant shelter was a necessity. He motioned his horse to the front of the inn, where he hopped off the back as it returned to the shadow realm.

As he entered the doors of the inn he noticed a duo of women speaking and enjoying their drinks. He moved over to the bartenders counter to notice one was a Sin'Dori while the other was Panderan.

"May Elune be with you both, how fortunate it is to find company in this barren land!" he exclaimed.

"So, what brings you to place?" he asked.
It had been a long and tiring adventure to be sure. First, she had explored the Jade Forest and then moved on to that Valley of the Four Winds and finally to Townlong Steppes before finding herself here in what was called the Dread Wastes on the map of Pandaria she had. She glanced over her shoulder to see that her husband wasn't following her.
"Where is that worgen...?" muttered Galaire Moonwalker as she made her way through the countryside. The last time she had seen Clawfyre, he was in the company of one Chen Stormstout and his niece, Li Li in the Valley of the Four Winds on their way to the Stormstout Brewery.
Galaire and Clawfyre had arrived in Pandaria, the newly discovered continent, only four days ago. The pair of rogues tended to travel together, but here in Pandaria they decided to split up and have their own adventures. Galaire wasn't overly worried about Clawfyre....the worgen could take care of himself. She didn't need him breathing down her neck.
Both had made friends with some of the natives of the continent; including the Pandarens, the Jinyu, and even some of the Hozen that weren't hostile towards the Alliance. Clawfyre had made fast friends with Chen Stormstout and helped him clean out his brewery which had been taken over by Hozen, virmen and something called an "Alemental". Clawfyre had sent Galaire several letters inviting her to Stormstout Brewery but Galaire was far too busy exploring this new continent to visit a brewery.

Galaire was alone now and getting hungry...and a tad bit thirsty. She had packed food in her bag, of course, but eating out here in the wild didn't sound that appealing. Especially with those mantid in the area.
She spotted a door carved in a root of a tree and deiced to investigate.
She found herself in what clearly was an inn. There was a sin'dorei and a yaungol....and a death knight.
"I never expected to find an inn here in the Dread Wastes..." she said to nobody in particalur. "I'd have an ale and any food you have would be nice"
Noticing the familiar voice of a Kal'dori woman, he spun on his heels and approached the woman.
He eagerly extended his hand to her and said,"My name is Manjoni Darkshire, and I've been looking for the company of another Kal'dori in these strange lands."

He was truly happy to see another elf of any kind. It had been such a long time since he'd seen any heros of the Alliance in Pandaria, nor had he seen many horde, outside of the ones siding with the Hozen.
Loraiza blocked the swing of the Mantid in front of her and then swung her mace as hard as she could. She quickly felt her blunt weapon connect to the creature's face as a satisfying thud echoed through the Dread Wastes. The Klaxxi had dropped her off right next to the Mantid's home base on, what they were sure was a suicide mission for one of the "lesser races", hoping that she would take out a few of their numbers before being overwhelmed and killed. The thought of being looked down upon by the Mantid rebels only fueled her Berserker Rage more.

She quickly turned to the three bug creature's that were quickly approaching her and launched a lightning bolt at one of them. The electricity hit the creature square in the chest and the jumped to the other two, the scent of burned flesh filling the air as they fell to the ground dead. A little behind her, she heard the roar of the Earth Elemental she called forth and heard a monstrous crunching sound. When she turned to look, she saw only the dead body of a Mantid that had tried to sneak up behind her, its leg still twitching like a cockroach that had been crushed underfoot.

Loraiza quickly moved among the bodies, searching them for anything of use before moving on. She had to move quickly, making sure to draw the attention of only small groups of Mantid, in sizes that she knew she could handle. Her thoughts once again turned to the Klaxxi that had sent her here and she spat on the ground in contempt. She would show them, she would show them all what the "lesser races" could do.

*A Half Hour or So Later*

Loraiza slumbered quietly on the back of Rezzashi, the Black Riding Raptor she had received from her father as a gift for 15th birthday. She was always worn out after coming down from a berserking episode and, after such a long battle, she needed rest. The raptor moved through the area slowly and quietly, so as to both not wake his master and to not draw attention from any Mantid in the area. As he continued to move through the area, he saw a set of lights and door, strangely enough, set in a tree slightly ahead of them. He shook his head to wake the troll on his back.

Loraiza slowly lifted her head to see what her Raptor had wakened her up for. Through bleary eyes, she noticed a set of lights and a door set within a tree. She patted the raptor on the head.

"It just appears ta be a Mantid house or sumting. Give it a wide berth so no one notices us." She went to put her head back down onto the raptor, to try and get a little more rest before the Mantid found her when Rezzashi shook his head again. She picked up her head again, knowing that if Rezzashi was this persistent it meant there was something she had missed in her first assessment.

As she took a closer look, Loraiza noticed that the door didn't have the normal Mantid design to it; in fact it looked all most like the door to an inn. Curious, Loraiza sat up straight in her saddle and flicked the reigns to her raptor, sending him in the direction of the door.

She pulled up to the door of the small inn and quickly jumped out of the saddle. As she walked up to the door, Loraiza noticed that the building was, in fact, a small inn and bar. Ecstatic, Loraiza walked through the doorway.

She took a quick look around, noticing two Hozen, two Night Elves, a Blood Elf, a Pandaren and a Yaungol. She went up to the bar and sat a chair away from the Blood Elf. She chuckled quietly to herself. "Ya always seem ta find yourself in da strangest company, dontcha?" she said, before waiting for the owner to get around to her.
Since leaving the Valley of the Four Winds, Agmash has been very disappointed. He came to Pandaria to explore and have a good time. With the Cataclysm at an end, he could finally return to pirating and enjoying the rest of his life. After all, he maybe had another twenty or thirty years left to him! Even thinking about it made the Berserker's blood boil. Trolls were so very cursed to live such short lives. At first, the old Jungle Troll had thought that the wall kept a nice surprise behind it, like the one in Kun-Lai!

This was not the case. For hours, Agmash had been wandering the Dread Wastes with his faithful traveling companion Nexo. Nexo was a High Elf and a member of Agmash's old crew, whom he'd learned had all come to Pandaria as well. He was happy to have a companion along for this rather... dreadful area. However, even the company of an old crewmate and a few nights around a campfire got stale. Or perhaps it was the Sha influence that permeated the land that had the two on edge. Regardless, when they had reached an inn, they were presently surprised.


The blue-black haired High Elf quickly removed himself from his Captain's company. He knew Agmash had a tendancy to start bar fights and was not at all thrilled that they'd found an inn. Though, he'd feigned excitement just for the old Troll's sake. Quickly, he found a seat in the corner of the inn away from everyone else. It'd be better that way. Less questions, and he'd be able to get out of the inn if any trouble arose.


Agmash grinned as he saw a Troll at the bar. Here he'd thought any Troll he'd meet in Pandaria would end up being Zandalari and be raving mad, working with the Mogu. He sighed and took a seat next to the female troll, "'Ey, mon." He shrugged his cloak over his pauldrons a bit and scratched at his chin. He planned on getting as smashed as possible, as he hadn't had a good drink since the day he spent at Onekeg. And that was a good day.
"My name is Galaire Moonwalker" said Galaire to the other kaldorei in the inn, glancing behind her and noticing a troll shaman enter. She shook the offered hand and smiled at the kaldorei. It had been not since she had been in the Valley of the Four Winds that she had seen other kaldorei like her. A few Sentinels had made their way down here, working their way up from the Krasarang Wilds in their search for the Pools of Youth. "it's good to see another kaldorei here in this strange land, alright"
Seeing those few Sentinels brought back Galaire's memories of the time when she was among the Sentinels nearly a dozen lifetime's ago it seemed. She had chatted with the Sentinels for a time then moved on to the city of Stoneplow.....just in time to witness the wall come crashing down and a bunch of Mantid came sweeping in.
Galaire glanced around and finally sat at a table. As she sat down, Galaire again wondered what had happened to Clawfyre.


"Damn those Klaxxi...." muttered Clawfyre as he neatly sliced a mantid in two with his sword. "I'll show them what we 'lesser races' can do"
Clawfyre was somewhere in the Dread Wastes, in search of his wife Galaire. Her last note said that she was going in the mantid-infested area to fight off a small mantid swarm. Clawfyre had been to one end of this damnable wasteland to the other and saw no signs of Galaire.
Now that he had killed a mantid, Clawfyre saw that he was quite alone now. He started to move again, careful not to make the slightest sound lest he should attract more mantid to him.

Clawfyre had been in the Stormstout Brewery when he had gotten Galaire's last letter. Instead of coming to the brewery, Galaire said she was exploring more of this strange land called Pandaria and that she was somewhere in the Dread Wastes. Clawfyre bid farewell to his friend Chen and he was off towards the Dread Wastes. It was about time husband and wife should meet up again.

Fifteen or so minutes later, Clawfyre noticed a door set into a tree root. Naturally he thought it was a mantid home....or would that be hive? But the door didn't look like a mantid looked like a door to an inn. Cautiously, Clawfyre went towards the door and opened it. It was indeed an inn and there, sitting at a table was...

"Galaire!" said the worgen happily, going over to the table and glancing around to see the other patrons of the inn.

"Clawfyre" said Galaire, smiling at her husband as he sat down at the table she had been sitting at.

"An ale for me" called Clawfyre to the Pandaren who clearly was the barkeep.
Sarinda was riding on her nightsaber Shadow looking for a place to rest, about to pass out from a day of fighting the mantid off. She saw a peculiar door in the side of a root and decided to look at it. Shadow faded into the shrubs around them. She walked in and saw the oddest excuse for a tavern ever. And such a mixture of races. She walked up and got a mug of ale and went and sat at the bar quietly, sipping it and getting used to the sweet taste.

She thought about the men she had seen die today. And about her friends back in Stormwind, safe in cozy in their cathedral beds. She frowned and sipped some more. Looking around and watching the conversations around her.
The whistle of steel carving through the air before impact with mantid chest was music to the ears of the female worgen. She cleaved through the body of the final patrol member. She had stumbled upon the group while exploring this land beyond the wall. This was the sixth patrol she had fought within the past few hours, and she was tiring. The pair of swords she carried, both large enough to require both hand for most men, had to be strapped to her back as the rush and fury of battle faded from her aching bones.

After some time marching through the wastes she came upon a door unlike the mantid structures she had seen before. After a few moments the female pushed the door open to see an inn of sorts, and various patrons within. She dragged herself up and over to the bar, taking a seat that was near a blood elf. She spoke in a tired voice, "What do you have to drink here? I ache and my vision starts to blur in my good eye." The female pointed to her right eye, her left being clouded over and grey as if blind.
Zuldjan had been trudging wearily through the wastes for hours when he noticed a rather out of place scent in the air ...the scent of Ale!


He gleefuly burst through the door, running up to the bar.

"your best ale, and whiskey if you have any. It's been a long day."

he threw a few coins on the bar and slumped down on one of the stools, rubbing his forehead.
Coris had been traveling for some time in this new land and was hoping to find a tavern. Galloping faster and faster to what appeared to be an inn he stopped and dismounted before entering.

He was entranced by the place.. it felt cool yet not too cold.... or hot yet not too hot. He took a seat in the middle and called over for a wine. Twittling his thumbs he tried to break the conversation to a nearby worgen female. "Crazy out there isn't it?" he asked.
Dan had seen his last battle; at least, it seemed as such. Scarlet, sanguine streams poured from around the glistening silver glow of the dagger protruding from his abdomen.

Dan was an old dog with many scars, but the searing pain and dizzying blur of colors in the Wastes were becoming too much for him. As he could no longer walk, he propped himself against the nearest thing he could find; the trunk of a tree.

He couldn't believe the circumstances. He'd come all the way to Pandaria, seeking to hinder the senseless bloodshed between his beloved Horde and the Alliance, only to be felled by Humans of allegiance to King Varian Wrynn. Rogues, assassins, call them what you will... He despised cowardly shadow-huggers, be they SI:7 or Cleft of Shadow.

More intellectual than most blood-lusting Warriors, Dan had searched for some sort of herb to stop - or at least, slow - the perpetual loss of blood he was experiencing. He concluded that this place was called the Dread Wastes for a reason. He coughed into his hand and could taste the metallic taste of his own blood. I must say, I had always hoped to die protecting some young ones from the Scourge, or taking a blade for an Alliance leader to become the seal of peace between these two ever-warring factions. This is certainly... less glamorous than I had hoped. Dan chuckled to himself, then groaned at the pain it caused to do so.

As Dan looked up, he noticed creases in the wood of the large tree mere feet from him. It resembled a... door? Dan stumbled over to the oddity, and it was at that moment his legs gave out from beneath him. His large, foreboding ebony form crashed through the bark as he fell to his knees inside of a tavern. The humanoids of various race looked at him, and he at them. He then uttered what he believed to be his final words:
Quite the crowd... you all are... heh.

With that, the Tauren allowed his eyes to close and collapsed on his side, pooling more of what was left of his precious life-force beneath him.

Coris looked behind him and he turned pale (hypothetically). He ran over to the unconcious warrior and checked his pulse. His pulse was very small and frantic and he was losing alot of blood. Coris looked through one of his tomes and found the pefect spell to use. He snapped the book closed and stared to chant "Ark-Strrumahk- Val klein forkisna" as a wave of holy light was seeping into the warrior. Coris kept up the chant for as long as it was needed noting that the wound was closing gradually.

After the wound had completely been patched back together Coris ran outside and gathered two sticks. He placed the two sticks on both sides of the warriors body and wrapped it tightly in Embersilk hoping for the warrior to be comfortable and safe from further harm.

Coris dragged him headfirst up near the closest seat and set him on the ground near Coris as he took the seat and started to sip his wine.

((lol i gots you :P))
Styvan entered the tavern, and looking around, saw that Alliance outnumbered Horde patrons. Last time he frequented a tavern, was in Alterac, and nearly blew himself, the other patrons, and the tavern itself. He also blew up about a hundred Syndicate goons, but they were barely worth counting. After that incident, in which his brothers lynx companion died defending Styvan, his brother swore that they were through. It pained Styvan, and he thought of drowning his depression away in this tavern in the middle of nowhere. He sat down at a table, away from everyone else, and ordered the strongest drink they had.
Dan tried his best to sit upright in the splints he was sincerely appreciative for. He eyed the newest comer to this tavern of... exotic tastes. The patrons he saw were mortal enemies locked in an unfortunate triangle filled with death and destruction - but they were all acting impressively civil (for the most part; some of the patrons come off as relatively simple... heh).

While Dan pondered this complexity he did so lightly - it did his old heart good to see some cross-factional relations that DIDN'T fill the room with corpses.

Nevertheless, Dan surveyed the place and dutifully scanned the area for any potential threats. He felt he could still grab his trusty Nether-Gemmed axe he'd obtained in a raid on some rogue scryers working for Sunstrider and Scourge-forged tower shield if it were absolutely necessary.

Dan thought little of rest. Rest was earned with the life of a hero and the death of a protector. His newest charge was a resident of Gilneas; he had seen (and lamentably, slain) several of these when attacked for belonging to the Horde. This one had earned his loyalty, though. Regardless of what may happen when and if this anomaly of peacefulness full of intoxicated rivals wears then, he knew he had a friend. He knew he had a life-debt to repay, and that was something the Tauren people respected more than self-preservation.

Dan's eyes turned toward the elves and kept his gaze there for a few long moments...
Kalipisa had turned her head a little when she was asked a question by another worgen. Before she had a moment to respond a tauren made an appearance, looking in worse shape than she was. As she pulled a few bandages from her pack, the one who spoke to her busily treated the injured tauren. She waited until they were settled before stepping over, pulling a pair of mugs from her pack and setting them on the table that the male worgen now sat at.

Without a word she quickly tried to lift the tauren, who seemed to struggle while trying to get up, and placed him in a chair beside his savior. After she took a seat on the opposite end of the table and slid one of the mugs to the tauren. She noticed the priest, as he seemed to be after the display of healing magics, already had a drink so she kept the other mug for herself. Into the pack her hands went once more before removing a small, portable keg of strong dwarven ale. The female filled both mugs before setting the keg on the table. She spoke again, still sore and tired but trying to be mildly sociable, "To answer your first question, yes. It does indeed seem 'crazy out there.' But now I must wonder what will become of our injured companion here. So long as we remain within a Pandaren structure I believe we can all agree that companionship can be tolerated, even if it is only temporary."

She took hold of her drink and swallowed a amount, waiting to see what the pair of males before her would do. Her muscles tensed as she drank, ready to pull the pair of swords from her back if they proved less hospitable to her as they seemed to each other.
"Finally" sighed Ecrulis, he had been flying around the Dread Wastes for hours looking for this place, the strange door apparently marked the entrance to an inn of sorts and the only place in Pandaria that sold the product that the Kalaxxi wanted. "Why in the world would Kalaxxi want Ale?" he thought to himself, but shrugged and walked in anyway while waving off his frostbrood to hover in the distance, The Kalaxxi were a strange group, but the first beings he found himself respecting since swearing fealty to Sylvanas and The Forsaken.

"Give me your finest brew and make it quick" Ecrulis hissed as he walked through the door, Pandaria was an interesting yet dangerous place, though the natives could be threatening his Forsaken Tabard earned him more than a few altercations with the alliance as well. Sitting down at the nearest table Ecrulis set down his greatsword and scanned the room, and it seemed the alliance outnumbered the horde, he would have to be courteous as much as it disgusted him.
"There you are!" Veyalia sighed in a very annoyed tone as she entered the Inn with a rather large wrathguard trailing behind her, she had been traveling with her brother Ecrulis working for the Kalaxxi, and while her brother always rode that blighted beast of his Veyalia still preferred her Dreadsteed, which was now sabled outside the inn.

"I know neither of us enjoy working together but that is no reason purposefully try and lose me." She said angrily at her brother as she sat across from him, his arrogance and stubborn nature typically got him or other travelling with him in some sort of trouble, "The Kalaxxi charged both of us with this task, not just you, so before you go running off next time just remember how many times I have had to help you with pissed off alliance troops on this continent."
Styvan saw the death knight come in and recognized him from the Nightshade. He immediately turned his gaze away, hoping the death knight wouldnt see him. A few minutes went by, and he heard someone say as the door opened "There you are!" Styvan grabbed his hammer in case it was someone looking for him. But thank the gods it wasnt. Apparently it was someone looking for the death knight. First crisis averted, he thought.

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