The Backways Bar [RP]

Every so often, someone goes through a door and ends up somewhere strange.​

THE BACKGROUND​

The Backways Bar is an extra-dimensional space, and the doors leading into it can appear anywhere and at any time. Typically, however, if an invited patron (read: Player Character) wishes to enter the bar and opens a door without any witnesses, it'll lead here.

Sometimes a door taken by some random person finds them stumbling into the Backways Bar. Sometimes an adventurer finds it through a gnarled passageway after spending a year hunting for it - the bar is strange and fickle in those it chooses to invite. Still, once an invitation is given, it is rarely revoked.

The bar itself is a small hole-in-the-wall. A fireplace roars on one end, with the bar itself and a few clustered tables on the far wall. Clockwork creatures of many limbs work the bar itself, and will serve any drink ever made. They'll never serve death, however.

Lately, the Backways Bar has started letting in some interesting people.

OVERVIEW​

This is a standard open RP, in the sense that you don't have to sign up or anything. You can just pop in with a character and start an IC conversation. Your character can be a slapdash concept or have a deep and verbose backstory, that's up to ye.

The setting is left vague, this is intentional. It's a build-it-yourself! The gaps are filled by the various interesting folks with concerning problems you bring into the bar. Now, playing as incredibly powerful characters (see the rules for the specifics) isn't allowed, but it isn't like you can't play a high-ranking nobleman with the King's ear. Or you could just play a random cook, it's up to you!

I've left some starter topics below on the Greatboard, but don't feel like you have to follow them. They're prompts, and they're happening, but you could always introduce new topics.

Lastly, since this an open RP thread, I'm not gonna be GMing or anything. Stick to the rules, keep good order, Good Luck.

THE GREATBOARD
Current Topics of Concern​

• The Lich’s grasp is gone at last. Betrayed by his former Terror General Devarien, Irivex, the thrice-cursed king of the undead, has been ripped of the power that granted him immortality-the Aspect of Entropy, a primeval force of raw power. Now, without a will to bind them together, his armies run rampant across the Continent, left to plunge the continent into chaos.

• The world comes to an end, and some still seek to gain from it. As the Greater Plane is torn apart by the doings of planeshifters, the Cult of the Ascendant Sovereign seeks to fully break apart the fabric separating the mortal realm from that of the gods-to free the Aspects they worship in the hope of granting themselves salvation. With a stranglehold on numerous different worlds, the organization is ever closer to achieving their goal.

• The Empire of Vylmar has been torn apart. With the Empress vanished and its new leader, the consul Darius Vaexattor, mysteriously assassinated, the lords of the Great Houses wage civil war upon each other, each vying to take the throne for themselves. As war breaks out between the Empire and its neighboring powers, the Holy Kingdom of Hernan and the Jossic Federation, the already fading dream of global stability becomes ever more distant.

• The Ferrous Merchant's Guild and the Continental Commercial Cooperative (C3) are the two largest merchant guilds on the continent. Engaged in a trade war, the two already have butted heads-sometimes quite violently; and some fear the already thinning string of balance will only stretch further.

Spoiler: Rules

1) You may only have one character at a time. You can retire a character and make a new one, but this isn't lightly recommended and comes with a 1 week cooldown before you can do so again.

2) No violence in the bar. The bouncer is an unstoppable piranha-monster leased out from the City. It is unshakably loyal to the bar and will instantly and unblockably ban the offending character from the premises.

3) Leading a non-invitee (read: NPC) to the bar is impossible. The inter-dimensional gateway inside a given door will only trigger if there are zero non-invitee witnesses to the act.

4) This is a generally High Fantasy Medieval setting. Seeing as you've read the rules, write down your favorite number at the beginning of your post. Try and remain period-accurate.

5) All in-thread RP must remain inside of the bar. You're free to have secret conversations outside of the bar (if feasible for your characters), but keep it to a forums convo or a discord DM or whatnot.

6) List of unplayable characters (this list may update as the RP develops):

• Any Head of State
  
• Dread Lich Irivex
• Any of Dread Lich Irivex's Twelve Terror Generals
  
• Any Core Leadership of the Cult of the Ascendant Sovereign
• Any Deities/Primordial Forces/Wise & Ancient Spirits/The Like
• Hiveminds
• The Bouncer

 

I'll kick off in glorious tradition by dropping a real nice piece of character art in lieu of a physical description:

Spoiler: the art

The cane's not for show - I visibly walk with a limp, settling onto a barstool with a clashing mix of practiced grace and staggered force. With my legs supported, the grace wins out, and I vaguely sign to the bartender a large and extravagant cocktail. The bartender, being a whirring mindless automaton, understands the order and begins to prepare it.

I am, as of now, alone in the bar. I consider this to be a normal state of affairs, and do not seem to be expecting anyone.

Spoiler: The Background

The information contained within this spoiler is strictly OOC, for use if anyone wants their character to have a history with mine.

Neshu, pas Aventaria
A Lunar Priest within the Vylmaran capital, Neshu is not a tiefling, despite using magical cosmetic touches to better resemble one. Neshu's marks, discoloration, and ill health are all products of the various deals that the human has made with various gods, demons, and spirits over the years in exchange for power, knowledge, and/or life.

Though during the day they are a normal (if slightly unorthodox) Lunar Priest, Neshu moonlights as a member of the House of the Fourfold Path, a secret society/cult of alchemists and occultists attempting to find the secrets to immortality.

Neshu, pas Aventaria is one of the more advanced human members of the House, being 348 years of age as of the most recent spring. Still, this is thanks to a house of cards in magical terms, and this extended lifespan is in a constant state of near-failure and just-in-time fixes. The on-demand Blue-Gold Elixir from the Backways Bar has greatly aided with their condition, but Neshu yearns for a more permanent solution -- as does every member of the House.

The House of the Fourfold Path - both as a part of its nature and due to organizational entanglements - has an outstanding grudge with the Cults of the Cleansing Worm and Ascendant Sovereign, as well as deep ties to the various partisan and resistance movements embedded inside the Empire of Vylmar.

Helping out these resistance cells and sheltering political refugees is one of Neshu's main responsibilities in the House, and nearly three decades of witnessing the damage the Empire does firsthand has deeply embittered Neshu towards Vylmar.

 

A man walks into the bar.
The man is human; tall and lean, with a pale countenance and silvery-black hair. He wears a stiff military uniform with a patch displaying the sigil of a coiling red dragon. A gold medal below it identifies the man as a Centurion of Vylmar- a commander of middling rank.
A group of burly Jossinarians scowl at him as he passes by. One spits on the floor besides him, but the man pays her no mind. He walks to the countertop, his expression impassive, and sets the elegant steel saber he’s been carrying atop it.

 

Nitpicking

 

13. This number means nothing.

An elf walks, a little off-balance, into the bar and takes a look around, looking at the automatons and bouncer. If they're surprised, they don't show it. They wear dark green leather armor, but it's so worn that you can see a second layer of brown leather underneath. The various sticks in their hair don't seem intentional until a squirrel peeks out from it, but even then, the squirrel might not be intentional either. They have pallid skin and what little hue is in their eyes is green.

"Ale," they tell the bartender, putting three unfamiliar copper coins on the table, "substandard."
The bartender pauses for a moment, before going to pour a mug and ignoring the coins. The elf shrugs, and puts the coins back in their pocket.

________________________________

cool art btw

 

For the last few minutes, it's been dawning on the priest that it's going to be a busy day. Worse yet, none of these faces are familiar, and only one of them has that bewildered "first-time-in-the-bar" expression.

(More nitpicking)

Neshu pays little noticeable mind to the first of the newcomers, though inside their mind is a whirling vortex. A Centurion. Here? Was there no place free from the dragon's gaze?

...and now some strange forest creature had broken down in tears less than ten feet away. Sodinukas hears, in front of them, a voice of ethereal chimes and gravelly scratches, clearly finding difficulty in speaking. They hear the voice twice - both in a strange, flowing babble and an easily-understandable urban dialect.

"...What troubles you, young one?"

 

Nobody saw the door open, and no one heard it close. The bartender, engrossed in the preparation of a drink, didn’t notice the mug of ale go missing, but when it turned around, it did notice the two silver on the countertop, glistening like fragments of light from the very moon they were designed after.

A certain elf, sitting alone at a table, reaches to take a sip from their mug, but before they can touch the drink, a metal claw with veins of purple energy running through it shoots out from seemingly nowhere, attached to a rope-like substance made of both plant and metal, snatches the ale, and returns to its owner.

Its owner, who happens to be sitting at an adjacent table, twenty feet away. As the plant-metal arm snakes its way back to this figure, the plain, simple robe (so simple, in fact, that it looks as though this person had just draped a blanket over themself) is cast aside in a dramatic motion.

Spoiler: “Did I get carried away in elaborate character design? Maaaaaaybe”

Underneath this “robe” lies a strange and stunning figure. She appears to be human, standing at around five and a half feet tall, but so many alterations have been made to her body that “human” probably isn’t the right word to describe her.
She has two normal human arms, the only strange part about them being that instead of blood flowing through her veins, there is some strange, glowing, purple substance. She also has, however, two other arms coming out of her back, described above (the ones that end in claws).
On first glance, she seems to be wearing a metallic mask, but upon further inspection one would notice that the mouth of this “mask” moves when she talks, and alters its expression as she alters hers.

In stark contrast to her face and arms, her clothing is rather simple. She wears a royal purple sweater, and bluish-grey trousers the colour of the ocean on a stormy day.

(I hope I did those spoilers right - I’m doing this whole thing on mobile)

The arm that took the mug lifts said mug up to her lips, and she tilts her head back and takes a long sip, after which she tosses the mug back in the elf’s direction.
“Can’t you afford anything better than this?” she asks, in a soft, high-pitched voice, with a mild southern accent.

 

Yeh

"You don't like it, get something yourself," replies the elf, "and the best tastes the worst."
The squirrel begins nibbling on an acorn, and the elf looks at Sodinukas.
"What're you going on about?"

(Yes, I am still going to only reveal details about my character as they become apparent, so no name yet.)

________________________________

(even more nitpicking)

 

In an obvious effort to maintain conversation, the human pushes herself away from the table she’s sitting at with her strange plant-arms, such that the elf is now facing her.
“He’s probably just confused. When insecure people get confused, they tend to freak out. I’m comfortable in any tavern - I must’ve seen hundreds in my time - so I don’t really care where I am or how I got here. As long as I get to talk to people and drink ale. If it’s good ale, not the stuff you were drinking.” She gestures at the ale, now spilled on the floor.
“Talking to people and drinking ale might be my two favorite things to do. What do you like doing? I mean, what do you do for a living? Gosh, I confuse the two so much, because I love what I do for a living, so I assume everyone else does too.”
This human is speaking incredibly quickly, such that her words are barely comprehensible. While she’s speaking, her numerous arms are doing various things - she is, for instance, with one of them, petting the squirrel in the elf’s hair.

 

Aurelion sits besides the countertop, surveying the room with a critical eye.
Of all the posts in the Empire, of course Augusta had to send him here, to this strange…place. It was so distant from the Vylmaran mainland, frequented with hostile barbarians and strange creatures, the likes of which even Vylmar’s archivists had not recorded before.
Daekkan’s Hells, he didn’t even know exactly where he was. The outskirts of the Empire? A distant land? A distant world?
The tavern, if it was truly one, seemed detached from everything else, adrift in a limbo of its own. Why had the Legate herself deemed this place so important to Imperial plans?
It didn’t matter in the end. The orders were orders, and he had to follow them, whatever it took. How else could he rise in Imperial ranks?

Aurelion sighs and signals to the bartender, trying not to seem fazed by the strange being’s countenance.
“Regalios bless you today, innkeeper,” Aurelion says politely. “A medium beer, if you may.”

 

The voice - attached to the pink figure sitting at the bar - softens, just slightly.

"I know not. Is this... Toli-mia-u-si-as the Afterlife, as thou knowst it?"

[I would tell you to switch from Journey to 25 Days of Craftsmas, since this (was) a Journey-specific bug. But then I checked the other themes, and it looks like at some point this became a "every theme other than Starry Night" bug. Which is a problem, not only because half of my character's dialogue is in italics but you know that's bad too.]

 

The elf growls hostilely.
"Don't. Disturb. The squirrel."
The squirrel seems undisturbed, and the elf looks at an unoccupied stretch of wall. "Seriously? You're going to let them touch you?"

The elf takes two strides to the side to look at Sodinukas again.
"Dead? This is just... well, I'd call it a normal tavern, if it were normal. Surprised that a Sage got confused enough to wander into a bar and think it's the afterlife."
They turn around to see a mug of ale replaced on the counter. They take a short but large drink of it, before turning back to the pseudo-human.
"And I'd really rather not converse with anyone, actually. Go ahead, take the squirrel, then at least it won't have the chance to ditch me on purpose."

 

Oops
I’m bad with instructions ok
1.5625 (this number actually DOES have significance to me, not gonna explain rn)

“Ooh, I get the squirrel? I love being near alive things, thanks!”
The pseudo-human reaches out an artificial arm to the squirrel, upon which the squirrel climbs rapidly, before climbing to rest on her shoulder.
“Well, I’m tired, and I have a new friend that I gotta get to know better . . . Thedra out!”
The human, who has made herself known as Thedra, slinks into the shadows, slowly stroking her squirrel with one of her artificial arms.

 

"No such thing as a friend," mutters the elf.
The elf sits down and resumes drinking the low-quality ale.

i am laughing into my brain right now
because i also actually in real life did not know what your species was named

 

Thedra’s neck snaps to a 90-angle and she slowly turns around to look at you, the metal face contorting into a smile that doesn’t seem like it should fit on the face, revealing rows of pointed teeth.
There is most definitely something very wrong about her.

 

"It is a bar, young one, It has chosen thee to be amongst the few who can find it."

By the end of that last sentence, the priest's voice had nearly completely collapsed into a pained rasp. A clearing of the throat and a moment to get their bearings later, they continue:

"Ask the bartender when thou wishest to leave. Thy door will re-open."

Hrmm. The priest, with a machine-like smoothness, moves their placid gaze at Thedra.

"Obscure Proverb: Accost not the Aunoctian within a bar, especially if a priest awaits in the wings. I doubt she is an Aunoctian, but I feel the message holds."

And that sent the priest into a proper coughing fit.

 

The elf suddenly, sharply looks up, sees what he was looking for, and calms down again.
"Let me guess: planar room? Set up with some sort of old arcana? Definitely not called the Calling Crow? At least I got what I came for, I guess."
They finish their ale and set the mug back down, though their facade of confidence slips briefly, as they hesitate for a moment before putting it on the counter.

 

The answer to life, the universe, and everything.
Also, I'm not joining, but I'm here.

 

The clockwork bartender finally sets the extravagant cocktail in front of the priest, squeezing a few drops from a black bottle into the concoction. The drink, initially a dark and muddled red, transforms all at once into a bright, nigh-neon blue.

The priest's voice sounds far more steady after they've taken down their first sip of the drink.

The priest is silent for a moment. Despite having known of this place for... an extended period of time? Probably? They'd never thought it to have a name. Probably not the "Calling Crow," then.

"And whereforth have you come?"

 

While waiting for his drink, Aurelion scans the bar, noting its inhabitants.
What a strange place, he thinks, his eyes passing over a plant-like humanoid being in one corner.
He remembers Augusta’s words. Keep watch. The information that you will collect here is of the utmost importance. Study the barbarians-drink with them, dice with them. But remember your cause-stay vigilant. You will know when to leave.
Aurelion suddenly freezes at the sight of a robed tiefling near the back of the room, sitting besides an elf in a heavy cloak. Somehow, he recognizes them-although he doesn’t know exactly how.
Reattaching his sword to his belt, Aurelion makes his way across the room, causing the strange mechanical bartender to turn towards him nervously. He stops by the tiefling’s table and smiles forcefully.
“Do I know you?” he asks. “I believe I’ve seen you in the capital. A priest of Daekkan, I assume?”

Spoiler: The Gods of Vylmar

Once, when Vylmar was merely a small union of city-states bound by a common senate, Vylmarans worshipped a diverse pantheon of gods, deities of nature and the elements. Things have changed much since then, and after the nation’s first Emperor rose to power, many of the old gods were eradicated and erased from memory. Now, most Vylmarans only worship the Godly Triumvirate; the three gods Regalios, Vaellenia, and Daekkan.

Regalios is the leader of the Triumvirate, the god of day, life, and creation. He’s heavily associated with the Sun, as Vylmarans claim that the star contains Regalios’ Five Heavens, effectively the Vylmaran equivalent of paradise.

Vaellenia is Regalios’ sister and the god of dusk, dawn, and time. The stars are her realm, where spirits are judged before they go to her brothers’ afterlives.

Daekkan, Regalios’ brother, reigns over death and the night. Daekkan’s domain is the moon, which contains his Five Hells, the afterlife reserved for sinners and heretics.

Although the Triumvirate is the only “accepted” religion in most of Vylmar, worship of the old gods of the stars, moon, and sun is still technically legal. Although it’s a practice frowned upon by the Vylmaran government, such deities are similar enough to the Triumvirate that they are effectively the same gods.