Post by Ðяανεŋ on Jul 27, 2014 12:17:08 GMT
When you go OOC, your characters like to relax after a hard day of killing mythical beasts, waging magical wars etc.
The Fallen Dice is a hangout for those who need to unwind with a few drinks or even bitch about what their creators have forced them to do.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
In a pool of light in the darkness that is the world between imagination and the written word it stands. This is where the roleplay creations of Man go when go when not being used.
The building, it's design typical of any fantasy or medieval tavern. A wooden sign swings above the door even though no wind blows in this world. The sign ancient yet new, engraved with the words "The Fallen Dice Pub".
Inside, wooden tables fill the stone slab covered floor, with booths lining the walls. Faceless barmaids with flowing golden hair that frames the blank canvas's where a face should be, move with eerie grace about the pub, serving their customers in silence.
At the back the large oak bar stands, behind it the barman, as featureless as the rest of the staff, yet ready to serve the patrons anything they could wish for.
Come, relax, find a friendly ear for your troubles while you wait to be called back to the world of RP.
We only have three rules here:
Leave the roleplay animosity at the door.
Enjoy yourself.
And the most important, you may destroy towns but NEVER touch the pub.
The Fallen Dice is a hangout for those who need to unwind with a few drinks or even bitch about what their creators have forced them to do.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
In a pool of light in the darkness that is the world between imagination and the written word it stands. This is where the roleplay creations of Man go when go when not being used.
The building, it's design typical of any fantasy or medieval tavern. A wooden sign swings above the door even though no wind blows in this world. The sign ancient yet new, engraved with the words "The Fallen Dice Pub".
Inside, wooden tables fill the stone slab covered floor, with booths lining the walls. Faceless barmaids with flowing golden hair that frames the blank canvas's where a face should be, move with eerie grace about the pub, serving their customers in silence.
At the back the large oak bar stands, behind it the barman, as featureless as the rest of the staff, yet ready to serve the patrons anything they could wish for.
Come, relax, find a friendly ear for your troubles while you wait to be called back to the world of RP.
We only have three rules here:
Leave the roleplay animosity at the door.
Enjoy yourself.
And the most important, you may destroy towns but NEVER touch the pub.
