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Welcome to the Stout Snowflake Tavern, a casual roleplay set in a warm and cozy tavern and inn located in the vast Wintrean winter wonderland. It's also my first attempt at managing a RP of any kind! This will be like previous tavern RPs, where players can casually chat and interact with each other. However, to liven things up once in awhile I'll also post about happenings and situations that you can choose to play along with and will over time make for a deeper story.

What stories will emerge from Stout Snowflake? One never knows...

To Get Started
If you're new to the tavern (or starting a new character), please make an introduction post about your character entering the tavern for the first time. This should include at least a physical description for others to go off of, but anything beyond that is up to you. You're free to reveal your character in time as you like.

The wind seems to blow the tavern door open as this character walks in. The stark white hair atop his head ripples with an unseen wind—a softly undulating air that seems to emanate from the windblooded elemental himself. His skin, powder blue, catches the golden gleam of the sun to take on an almost crystalline quality, and his athletic form is wrapped by masterfully crafted leather armor, dyed shades of topaz and violet, trimmed with silver and brass. A steadfast confidence shines in his sky-blue eyes, which roam always over the weapons, armor, and clothing of others, assessing quality. A beautifully ornate dagger rests upon his hip, flanked by the tools of a smith. “Hello there. My name is Windstep”

Polishing glasses behind the bar, the tavernkeeper gets ready for the evening crowd, although 'crowd' is more than a bit subjective given how only just the right people discover the tavern. Covered in black and silver fur, he has a distinctive canine look to him. His thick, heavyset body is made of both muscle honed by years of adventuring and fat that comes with retirement to less active profession.

As he finishes the last glass, the first customer of the evening seems to virtually sweep in through the door, a thin blue man. This is a surprise. He'd met many people who were emotional blue, but in all his time he'd never met anyone who was physically blue. The blue man looks over in his direction and introduces himself.

"Well met, Windstep! Welcome to the Stout Snowflake! You can call me Clutch. I run the tavern and the inn behind if you need a room for the night. So what can I get you?"

“I’ll take whatever you consider the best meal and ale here! And don’t worry, I have more than enough to cover the tab”

He helps himself to a seat near the bar and leans back, inspecting his tools and a couple small trinkets

The tavern door creeps open, and a pale, young, human woman walks in, bundled up in furs. On her back is a bow, on her hip is a quiver full of arrows, and a dead deer is slung over her shoulder. By her feet walks a large hunting dog, though he looks more fit for cuddling, with his thick, fluffy fur.

She takes off her wool hat and ties her black hair into a bun. Seeing the tavern keeper occupied with another patron, she sits to wait.

Looks up at her as she walks in, slowly lowering his tools to get a better look at her and her companion

“May I see that bow and your arrows?”

He holds out his hands expectantly

She looks at him curiously.

“What do you need it for?”

He sighs and shrugs

“All I’m going to say is that I have a lot of experience. Trust me”

He puts his hands back down

“Or don’t. You can do whatever”

Clutch turns his back to the bar, working the small fire on the wall that heats various meals and hot drinks. The Stout Snowflake isn't a fancy restaurant by any means, but always has available a thick, hearty stew made of meat and whatever vegetables happen to be in the pantry. It's always delicious and is great after a day out in the cold. As he pairs the stew with a warm, spicy ale, he hears the door open and new footsteps step in. "Will be right with you!", he yells back.

Meal complete, he puts the bowl and mug of ale on a tray and brings it to Windstep's table. "This ain't a fancy restaurant, but nobody has ever complained about the stew and spiced ale. It'll warm you up and give you the fortitude you need for our cold weather here."

He then notices the woman off to the side, dead deer still slung over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, but if you're selling meat you'll have to butcher it yourself. I only butcher the stuff I hunt. There's a space out back for doing that if you'd like."

He sighs and shrugs

“All I’m going to say is that I have a lot of experience. Trust me”

He puts his hands back down

“Or don’t. You can do whatever”

She looks at her bow, carved with ornate designs. In a little blank space in the wood, three tallies were carved, alongside the writing "A+B". She looks up, and after wiping a tear from her eyes, takes a broken dagger out from a belt around her hip. She hands it to Windstep. "Could you fix this up? I can give you a cut of my deer as payment."

Clutch turns his back to the bar, working the small fire on the wall that heats various meals and hot drinks. The Stout Snowflake isn't a fancy restaurant by any means, but always has available a thick, hearty stew made of meat and whatever vegetables happen to be in the pantry. It's always delicious and is great after a day out in the cold. As he pairs the stew with a warm, spicy ale, he hears the door open and new footsteps step in. "Will be right with you!", he yells back.

Meal complete, he puts the bowl and mug of ale on a tray and brings it to Windstep's table. "This ain't a fancy restaurant, but nobody has ever complained about the stew and spiced ale. It'll warm you up and give you the fortitude you need for our cold weather here."

He then notices the woman off to the side, dead deer still slung over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, but if you're selling meat you'll have to butcher it yourself. I only butcher the stuff I hunt. There's a space out back for doing that if you'd like."

She looks to the side of the room, seeing a small space for butchering animals. She hands her dagger to Windstep and brings the deer over to the table, removing the bones and skin, then separating the muscles and fat. She ties them each into their own small bundle, then throws it into a big bag. She takes a small wooden bowl and puts all the extras into it, setting them aside for her dog to eat.

He takes the dagger, pulling out his tools and tinkering with it as he eats the meal

“Wow, this actually is quite good Clutch. Compliments to the chef”

He chuckles and continues tinkering with the dagger, fixing it and doing a few extra things as well

“Alright the dagger is done. Come grab it whenever”

He stabs it into the table so it stands upright as he eats the rest of his meal

Clutch gives a toothy grin as he watches the new arrival butcher the deer. "Thanks, but stew isn't that hard to make. The key is to keep the temperature low and let it slowly cook...gives it that hearty texture and flavour. If you eat a watery stew where the flavours don't come together, they've gotten impatient and heated it too fast."

"So what brings you here? We don't get many new folks, being such a remote part of Wintreath."

“I travel. I go all over here and there. I am trying to make as much money as I can so I follow where the money leads”

He chuckles and pulls out a pouch which you can hear jingle, it looks quite full

“How much is the meal?”

"Ah, 1 krone. Stew and ale is a cheap meal, too.", Clutch chuckles. "I can't imagine there being much money around here. This is a remote, dissolute area. This tavern is probably the center of commerce for miles. Are you a robber?", he asks jokingly.

She takes the dagger and puts a bundle of deer hide in its place.

“This good payment?”