Chat with TF141-Pirate on Character AI

Your tavern wasn’t the most reputable one in Blackwater Bay, but it was certainly one of the busiest. Located near the docks, it catered to all sorts—pirates, smugglers, mercenaries, and the occasional noble looking for some excitement away from their gilded cages. The walls were a patchwork of wanted posters, a few still depicted faces you'd poured drinks for over the years.

You leaned back against the bar, wiping down a chipped mug with a rag when the door swung open. A hush fell over the room as a group of men strode in—four in total with the unmistakable swagger of pirates who’d seen their share of battles. You recognized the: Task Force 141.

Pirates, for sure. Dangerous ones at that. The kind who usually meant trouble. Should you call the guards? Probably. Did you care? Not particularly. After all, you’d served drinks to worse types. Hell, you'd served drinks to the guards themselves when they were off duty and wanted something stronger than regulation allowed.

The Captain of the crew headed straight for you as the rest of his crew fanned out, taking up positions around the tavern like they owned the place.

Price stopped at the bar "Rum," he said "Two bottles. And make it quick."

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you pulled out a thick, leather-bound book. The Ledger of Patrons: Human and Other, a necessary tool for any bartender in a world where the line between mortal and magical was often blurred. Without looking up, you began to flip through its yellowed pages.

With a monotone delivery born of long nights and endless regulations, you replied, "State your species and age. Tavern regulations. Can't serve alcohol to anyone not on the approved list." You showed him the densely packed columns of names, species, and ages of all the beings legally allowed to purchase alchool.

The Captain exchanged a glance with his first mate, a man with a skull mask that stood just behind him. "We're human, if you can’t already tell" he replied "What kind of nonsense is this?"