Die Bierhallemitteilung ≫┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈| ☩ |┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈≪ From this day (August 4th, 308 AC) onwards, all Nelfin (Altalar, Isldar, Avanthar, Cielothar, Sihndar and Kathar) of the city excluding*: - Nobility (House Avalorn, House Latimer) - Servants of the State and/or Military (Any Elves who are knighted, in a Guard charter or in active service.) - Any employees/volunteers of the Regalian Almshouse.are indefinitely barred from the Beerhall, until further notice. *For legal reasons. Any employees of the Beerhall are prohibited from serving Nelfin and all Nelfin on Beerhall grounds are subject to removal. Thank you for your time. The ban has been lifted.
Kabili squinted at the notice, his lips tugging downwards into a frown, "The fuck did we do to piss this guy off?"
"Okay." Said a dark shadow figure in a bored tone. Before simply discarding the announcement and walking away.
Athalon raised and eyebrow curiously at the notice, “Typhonus should not have pissed off the Neflin in Calemberg. All the world seems to be in a carefully constructed chaos currently.” He remarked before continuing on his way.
A Colonial man coming off an evening of work nodded once upon having the notice be brought his attention. He languidly offered the paper given to him to another coworker on break. "Watch," Lou sneered, "I bet the prick-eared bastards'll get pissy for this," he remarked as he shared a barkish laugh, "Fucking elves get their feelings hurt over the littlest slight." A sniffle arose, and the hiss of a match as a garette was lit. "About damn time somebody did something about the Nelfin. They're starting to think they own the city."
It was not often a letter came so publicly, but given the nature of the paper, it certainly would provoke a few talks to erupt during one of the breaks between shifts at the beer hall. From yellowed pages all spindled with smells and ink that became soggy in a few places came the words of a creature most foul. In lieu of a signature, a horrid cross-like pattern was clumsily burnt into the bottom of the page. To die Bierhalle, Altalar history is one rich and elaborate, carrying thousands of years of knowledge compressed into one tight entity known as the Allorn Empire. From there, my ancestors created, magnified, and purified barley, hopps, and fruits that eventually lead to the fermented beverages that you serve in your halls. It is from the Altalar you were introduced to the drink that your people find themselves addicted to, and it is from Altalar that knowledge of how to produce it were passed down to the slaves of Daendroc, and eventually, to you. It was not from fathers to sons in which your people had sown the seeds of strong sippers, but from my fathers to yours. I would keep going, but I believe a lecture of incorrectness has a stronger point in person. Sincerely, X
Valarosta peered at the notice on her daily walk through the city, lifting a clawed finger to tap at the corner of the notice. "I do not think I have ever actually been there except when with the Typhonus family. I heard they make good burgers. Damn -- perhaps I can get Reimar or Klaus to pick one up for me if I ask nicely enough."
Nym'vrae Helvath ran a gloved hand over her tight jaw, a narrowed gaze falling upon the parchment that she read over, "I see that our conversation was all for naught."
“That’s a shame. Guess I’ll have to go to one of the /other/ fifty taverns in the city,” commented Molly, before lumbering off to the Wunderbar.
≫┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈| ☩ |┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈≪ As per agreement with Mister Ibrahim Batunoglu, the expulsion order has been amended to exclude: - Any Nelfin employees/volunteers of the Regalian Almshouse. All posts have been updated accordingly. ((Gentle reminder that the ban does not apply on an OOC level, and that your character is free to come to the Beerhall to roleplay regardless of IC actions. Furthermore, anyone is free to contact me in-game to try and 'change my (character's) mind' or to pursue business endeavors.))
