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Cavorting Cockatiel

A social house for Orcs and their Friends.

Tales from the Cavorting Cockatiel

The great fire blazed high and hot in the common room of the Brew and Skewer. The room was packed full of citizens from around the country side come to enjoy drink and gossip at the day's end. From the lantern smoke and through the din of conversation and argument strode a finely dressed unsually tall human woman. People moved aside without pausing their conversations or drinking, perhaps because on her back was a 13 String Bassolina almost as tall as her.
She stood at the foot of the great fire silloutted for a moment, and then pulled the Bassolina into her arms in a fluid professional movement. As she spoke, she played... and people slowly hushed to listen.
  "Gather around. Come close, bring drink and companionship. Sit by the fire. Let your bones ease and your spirit lighten. Yes! I know the day was hard. Your burdens heavy. Set them down I say, and enjoy ... good company! Good Drink and Food!! And, most of all tales from the Cavorting Cockatiel!

What you say young lass? You have not heard of the Cavorting Cockatiel? The Dirty in the Deep? or as her regulars fondly call her, the Bilge Hole?

Oh innocent lass let me, Lady Shiir'n M'Coochi,
Entertainer Esquiste make such introductions, Truly.
That you my dear,
Will feel terrible wonder and saddness at your misfortune, Severe.
To only now have heard her infamous name.
Your handsome companion there will be flush with jelousy, an' shame.
Join us all my friends, old and new... and cringe at the tale of ....

The One with the Chicken!!

The wind broke hard aginst the docks as the Orc known as Galet BreakLeg made his way down the slime and barnacle covered steps. Yes ... that BreakLeg, and yes those steps. To the Dirty in the Deep he was going for unsavory and shameful enterainments. The tide still many hours out, so he smiled as he walked. He had all late night before the Circle Sea sealed shut the Cockatiel's doors. Under the docks through the mud and into the deep shadows he went. At the door he knocked, as Orcs do and the sounds, smells and heat from within stired in him an anticipation of Orcish size.
Inside he drank, caroused and fought. For those are things that Orcs do. The middle of the common room being as much a stage for enterainers as a stage for .... entertainments. He soon found himself needing to heed that call that nature eventually demands when too much excess has been enjoyed, and to the Crevase he went. Standing there pissing into the dark oblivion.... he met the Gnome with the Chicken. Words, a poorly chosen comment perhaps, quickly led to the Galet and the Chicken on the stage. Some say that the Gnome commented on the worm like nature of a certain member of Galet's. Some say that Galet may have implied certain relational divergency between the Gnome and the Chicken. Everyone agrees that the Chicken's sensiblities were offended. Gnomes don't have sense or sensibilities.
  Oh the stuggle was mighty to say the least,
None, nor Galet himself had suspected the beast,
Of being so fleet of wing,
Sharp of claw,
Or agile of the beak!
Horrible blows Galet did commit,
But, to miss the mark was his fate;
And, to Galet's chargin;
The chicken seemed to be looking for a DAAATE!

So they contested! Feathers flew. Teeth gnashed. The stage could not contain their titanic struggle, and eventually... the common room itself became their battle ground. Everyone was either was pushed aside or drawn into the fight.
And, finally... once every chair had been shattered, every table broken and kindled, and all lay in ruin, blood covered without drink or cups ..... upon pile of rubble and the maimed, stood the Chicken and Galet!

Breathing was all that could be heard,
The rasping of Galet's injured form,
Bloodied and flesh torn.
The wheezing of the Chicken plucked.
Wing broke and beak bitten by Galet,
In his stuggle to avoid being .....

What can be said about the silence before the storm? Only, that in those clear skied moments do you truely know who you are.
Never had a chicken wrought such destruction. I shall not describe it, for there are many of delicate disposition here tonight.
The Chicken with a final CawCAAW leapt into the air. Wings and claws akimbo. It was a desperate move some say, and some say it was terrifying to behold. Some say their nightmares are still filled with such visions.
Galet flinched not.... and he did strike straight and true. His Orchish hand punching straight through the Chicken's breast with a broken table leg.

And, so now we know how Galet got his name,
To strike down a foe most fowl,
With a fatal blow and a table leg'an,
He turned the twist on that feathered dame,
And did in turn the pegging!

But that is not the end. No my constitutionally challenged freinds. For you see, once all was cleaned and put aright, no trace of Gnome or Chicken was discovered that night.
So, if you ever find youself drinking at the Bilge Hole... avoid conversations with strange Gnomes accompanied by farm fowl, and never never.... never.... follow the dulcette clucking of a chicken.

I can see that some found that tale more then expected,
An of putting exploration of the uncomfortable and unsuspected.
Drink up! Take heart and take a break if you must.
But know that the next tale is one of inappropriate familial lust!
So join us again, once more my friends, I'll tell the tale of....

The One with the Tiny Mouse!!

A Tiefling lass, A Human lass and a Dark Elf lass enter the bar. Little noticed except by those not yet distracted by drink, debachery, or destruction. Behind the bar, serving drinks was the infamous Orc Entertainer, R'kky-Baw'bi-L'slie. Yes, that RBL. Banned from every reputable public gathering place for having a face too pretty for his voice. Think about it.
The human lass saw RBL and she knew a mark when she saw one. RBL served drinks with a particular angery-tone, casual disregard for simple hygine, and that contemptus surrliness of the genious unappreciated.

Oh, poor RBL unsung hero forgotten,
Frustrated with the Dirty in the Deep,
About to recieve attention misbegotten,
From young lasses seeking a streak to keep.

And what is a strange Orc like you doing behind a bar like this? Was the first line in our sordid tale of woe. RBL had been lonely for the companionship of the phyical kind for some time. He had played for the human team in past to some complementary reviews. So....

RBL and the young lass retired to a room,
More suited to their intimate conversation,
It's a certainty that his words ended with him in her.... ,
After some heated negotiation!

It was at this point that the door burst open, and in charged the Dark Elf lass claiming that RBL was having intimate converation with her wife! With battle axe in hand, she threatened to remove something of value to RBL for such an insult. RBL could not protest his innocence, or that of the wife .... evidence of their conversation lay in abundance tossed about.


Shame oh shame to be so amused,
At the flaws and fate of the foolish and disabused.
I tell you now maybe the time to turn to your brew,
For the tales have been told for this round its true.
And, I shall retire for a time, perhas with a lad or lass.
Eithier way, someone had better buy me a glass!"

Without further fanfare to cheers and applause, the Human, one lady of questionable repute, and her Bassolina stepped of the stage towards the bar. The crowd of tavern goers parted relunctantly but respectfully for the famous enterainer. This was afterall a civilized travern, not like The Cavorting Cockatiel.

Purpose / Function

The Cavorting Cockatiel is one of the few places in the Pinacle that Orcs can go to be Orcs. It's not at all welcoming in any sense of the word to most other species of the realm. Orcs aren't nice. The decore isn't nice, unless you're an Orc.
Many non-Orcs find the Cockatiel difficult to endure. It was built by Orcs, its always owned by Orcs and almost every employee is an Orc.
The civil authorities avoid it, so it has developed a reputation for being a realtively safe place for Orcs and their friends. Entry is gained one of two ways .... earned through combat or by invitation.

In short, the purpose of the Cavorting Cockatiel is to be an Orc. It certainly has the personality of one.
By Nuran's fifth nut! Who puts razor blades in a mug handle? - Anonymous Orc friend.
Stop yippin' It's just a scratch. You're embarassing. - Anonymous Orc.

Sensory & Appearance

Some friends of Orcs have had this to say about the Cavorting Cockatiel:
  1. It is too loud, too dark or too bright. Too everything. A deadly assault on the senses.
  2. It hurts. Really, so many sharp edges. Really sharp.
  3. Appears to have been intentionally designed to be extremely uncomfortable, but not too uncomfortable.
  4. It requires a particular perspective to appreciate its asthetic.
  5. Great Orcish design. An excellent demonstration of neo-relational matrix variations.
Really... the more drunk you are, the better it is. You know... like Dwarf women.
Anonymous Orc Friend.


The Cockatiel was built by sealing up a series of underground caverns. The enterance sits under the docks of the Pinacle 8 meters below the high tide line in the Wet District. Even though the taven is open 24hrs, access can only be gained during low tide. There is a large common room with all the expected amenities, attached private rooms, a unique washroom and various passages barred to the public, with real metal bars.
What happens at low tide, stops at high tide. - Anonymous Orc.


An intimidating number of them with large pointy things, that may not necessarily be weapons.


The Crevase

In the back, down a narrow tunnel, is the Crevase. It is an open fissure in the rock and a narrow ledge. It is also the bathroom.
Yes. Everyone uses it.
If you're not a stand and go person, you can use the various rock out cropings to squat. There are no railings. There are only a few torches, and sometimes there are guards.
Why guards?
Because sometimes things reach up from the Crevase.

At some schedule only known to the management, they invite hardy adventurers of all types for what is known as the "Clean Up Carnival." The goal is to go into the Crevase, and kill whatever happens to be lurking down there in its dark depths. Adventurers pay high fees to participate and many Orcs and Orc friends gamble on the outcome. Number of decents with kills being a popular one.
So you want to know about the Cavorting Cockatiel? Well, let's just say you'd better be able to handle yourself, drink and coin. There's a reason its below the tide line, and it's not because it's pretty. Orcs are generally mean and nasty tempered, but them orcs is a whole new unsavory.
Ablam "Rat Catcher" Fiqe, Pinnacle Civil Constable.
Founding Date
Some time in the century of 57400Rs
Alternative Names
The Bigle Hole, The Dirty in the Deep, The Cockatiel
Parent Location
Owning Organization

The Not Friends List

This being the list of all who are not liked and to be beaten. - Management.
  Lady/Lord Shiir'n M'Coochi - being more then a lady.
Th'rkin Gy'dor - cheating at Krossbows, a lot.
Helna E'dalin - cooking.
S'ka'krin Fuur - frolicking with too many people.
Kikki Kindletyn - unauthorized decorating.
Bo'rta Dok'razka - repeated malicious delimbing.
Rastalan Ullita - poetry with paintings.
Gza'rat C'taaran - being friends with Rastalan Ullita.
Gnomes - chickens.
J'zrak Duka - doing unspeakable things at the Crevase.

Lady M'Coochi have you ever been to the Cavorting Cockatiel?

By Veratha's Verse and Her Glorious Will, No!
Why would I ever go there? It's a half submerged garbage pit underneath the Pinnacle utterly infested with vermin and Orcs. Vermin can be managed. Orcs can not.
Now bring me Crs'tal Wine, I'm thirsty and I must perfom.

Krossbows is a staple at The Bilge Hole.
It's played everynight.
The basic rules are simple.....


Rules of Krossbows:

Some Orcs get on the stage. Each must have a crossbow and a drink. Each takes turns shooting their crossbow at another player. The player with the most points at the end of the game wins.

Get points if...
You hit your opponent.
You accidently hit a spectator.
Your opponent spills their drink.
You hit your opponent's knee.

Loose points if...
You fall over.
You drop your Krossbow or drink.
You intentionally hit a spectator.

You loose if...
You end up off the stage.
You fall and cant get up.
You act like an Elf.

How did the Cockatiel get her name? Strangely no one knows. Strangely, there are a lot of travens and inns in the Realm with similar names. You know ... The Contorting Kitty, The Turgid Tortise, The Pokey Pony, .... Strange, don't you think? Anyway.... enough about pubs... let's talk about you.
Axel'fon Hedge - Human Tourist.

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Please Login in order to comment!
17 Mar, 2022 20:10

It is an interesting and an unique read, but what I think throws most off is that it does not actually describe a tavern in your classical article-like manner, but it is more reminiscent of a short-story! Still sounds like an interesting place!

Que the wardrums! Check out my bloodied river, running from the heart of the jungle:River Arteria!
21 Mar, 2022 03:59

Thank you very much for your comments. At this point the article is about half written and I still hove one more tale to tell. The goal is to include details about the tavern in the tale, and provide context for how others in Az-Atla perceive the tavern while avoiding too many specific details. I try to treat my locations like my creatures.

18 Mar, 2022 19:17

A interesting tavern and i love the quotes that you use, I do want to know more about the staff and the patrons that come to the tavern. But overall this article is good! and i do enjoy the layout of it as well as it unique!

21 Mar, 2022 04:09

Also, thank you for your comments. It is appreciated. I'm hoping to fill-in more details as the second tale is told. And, add a few side bar elements such as a map and a 'black-list." Oh, and introducing a famous bar keep.