Post by gragas on Feb 10, 2013 0:14:53 GMT -5
Feb 1, 23 CLE
9:30 PM
The sun had already gone down over Noxus, and the night life was just beginning. All over the city state, taverns and pubs were open and ready to accommodate Noxians looking for a drink.
However, these bars were busier than normal. Word had gotten out of an event occurring the next day known as The Butchering. Most Noxians did not know what was going to happen there, but it was run by none other than Draven. And everyone in Noxus knew that anything Draven was in charge of was bound to be good.
The city guards had become a bit more lenient due to the excitement and buzz in the air. This is a good night for a supply run... Gragas thought to himself. The Rabble Rouser had sobered himself up for this occasion. He expected, however, to lose this status before the night was over.
Gragas spent most of his time either in his cottage brewing, or with Jax and Olaf drinking. Every once in a while, he would run out of materials to brew with. The foothills of the Great Barrier were desolate, and resources need for his brewing were scarce. He might find one frayed stem of a hop, or some strands of wheat, but only on rare occasions. So, Gragas would go to a Noxian tavern to buy brewing materials. These trips typically ended with him getting drunk, and either hurting himself, others, or his reputation with the law.
Gragas shoved open the doors of his personal favorite pub, The Meadman's Hideaway.
This was typically referred to as just The Hideaway, by both Gragas and frequent visitors of the bar. The Rabble Rouser walked up to the Gilas, the bartender working at the counter. He knew Gilas very well due to the supply runs he took, and he had friendly relations with the barkeep.
"Gilas! How are ya doing?" Gragas asked, a big grin on his face. Gilas turned around, and smiled when he saw Gragas. "Gragas! Sober for a change, too." Both men chuckled at this. "Looking for some supplies, am I right?" Gragas nodded, looking around him at the large crowd that was gathered in the pub. Not many people had noticed him, but those who had turned their heads, and pointed to Gragas, trying to get their friends to notice him.
"Sure thing, pal! Lemme get them from the cellar." Gilas unlocked a trap door behind the counter, and disappeared from sight. Gragas was getting more acknowledgement from the pub goers, as he drummed his fingers on the counter.
((Might change the pub name, but for now that's the best I could think of))
9:30 PM
The sun had already gone down over Noxus, and the night life was just beginning. All over the city state, taverns and pubs were open and ready to accommodate Noxians looking for a drink.
However, these bars were busier than normal. Word had gotten out of an event occurring the next day known as The Butchering. Most Noxians did not know what was going to happen there, but it was run by none other than Draven. And everyone in Noxus knew that anything Draven was in charge of was bound to be good.
The city guards had become a bit more lenient due to the excitement and buzz in the air. This is a good night for a supply run... Gragas thought to himself. The Rabble Rouser had sobered himself up for this occasion. He expected, however, to lose this status before the night was over.
Gragas spent most of his time either in his cottage brewing, or with Jax and Olaf drinking. Every once in a while, he would run out of materials to brew with. The foothills of the Great Barrier were desolate, and resources need for his brewing were scarce. He might find one frayed stem of a hop, or some strands of wheat, but only on rare occasions. So, Gragas would go to a Noxian tavern to buy brewing materials. These trips typically ended with him getting drunk, and either hurting himself, others, or his reputation with the law.
Gragas shoved open the doors of his personal favorite pub, The Meadman's Hideaway.
This was typically referred to as just The Hideaway, by both Gragas and frequent visitors of the bar. The Rabble Rouser walked up to the Gilas, the bartender working at the counter. He knew Gilas very well due to the supply runs he took, and he had friendly relations with the barkeep.
"Gilas! How are ya doing?" Gragas asked, a big grin on his face. Gilas turned around, and smiled when he saw Gragas. "Gragas! Sober for a change, too." Both men chuckled at this. "Looking for some supplies, am I right?" Gragas nodded, looking around him at the large crowd that was gathered in the pub. Not many people had noticed him, but those who had turned their heads, and pointed to Gragas, trying to get their friends to notice him.
"Sure thing, pal! Lemme get them from the cellar." Gilas unlocked a trap door behind the counter, and disappeared from sight. Gragas was getting more acknowledgement from the pub goers, as he drummed his fingers on the counter.
((Might change the pub name, but for now that's the best I could think of))