One of the most lively points of interest in the city, the Oak Barrel Tavern is the place where many come to celebrate or simply drink their cares away. No matter where you come from or what your story may be, there is always a freshly poured pint and an empty seat waiting for you.

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Events are taking place after Thrown to the Wolves and just prior to Ashes to Ashes storylines

Deanna had recuperated nicely after her dealings with the Bluefield Lord, Elijah. Sometimes when she ran her calf muscle cramped, and her shoulder would ache her periodically, but all in all, she was the picture of health thanks to Kyrian. Now that she and Quinn had returned home, what to do with herself? Deanna couldn’t see herself just sitting at home like some lazy bim. Sure she and her mate had spent a week in bed without any interruptions (actually they had broken the bed, and the table, and well…it was a miracle that the entire structure was still somewhat intact really), and that was nice. Really nice. And sure at times they were estranged, especially as Quinn was adjusting to being demon free, but now a true mate to Deanna. They had their problems, as any normal couple had, and like any normal couple, they fought.

Fighting was ugly, but making up was worth it. However, Deanna needed an out, just as sure as Quinn did. When the position for General Manager of the Oak Barrel Tavern came up, Deanna actually toyed with the idea of running that ‘shit palace’ as she termed it. In fact, she toyed with it for about a week before finally putting in her application. Either she really impressed the ‘higher-ups’ or no one else was insane enough to want the job, because not long after dropping what she called an ‘idiotic letter of qualifications that no one gave two shits about’ off, she received a congrats letter accompanied with keys to the Tavern.

Excellent. I am now the proud ‘kind of owner’ of this dump that caters to whores, drunks, and probably fleas.

Before Deanna swept into the Oak Barrel and began barking orders, she wanted to know exactly how things were run, if they were run at all. No one knew who she was, so she didn’t have to bother donning some ridiculous disguise to do a bit of reconnaissance work. Instead, she strolled in one busy evening and promptly took a spot at the corner of the bar. A better vantage point, she thought to herself. She could peer into the kitchen area and the main room, not to mention view the comings of goings into the rooms for rent and the main door. Perfect.

The entire place was packed with those who came to eat, those who came to drink themselves into an early grave, and those looking for ‘love’. She ordered a tankard of ale from a surly barmaid, though the woman could hardly be called a maid. She appeared to be middle aged, with a surly expression, thick midsection, and sagging breasts. It was obviously she hated her job, and even more so, those she had to wait upon. Deanna politely inquired the woman’s name after accepting her drink, which gained her a squinty eyed glare before the woman reluctantly muttered “Myrna,” and hurried off to another demanding customer. Deanna sipped the ale cautiously, found it rather good, and settled back against the bar to watch Myrna the Sourpuss in action.

The older woman wasn’t half bad. She took orders quickly, fetched drinks at a reasonable pace, and slapped the hands of those who dared reached to grab her rear, or gods forbid!, a droopy breast. Deanna admired her at that point, until she spotted Myrna slipping gold into her pocket that was intended for payment to the Tavern. Deanna snorted in disgust and turned her attention to another bar wench, this one far more comely than Myrna.

She was young, had hair the color of straw, and a bit cockeyed, but the curvy figure and high pitched giggly voice made up for it, Deanna supposed. Men responded to her far more than they did to the aging Myrna, which didn’t surprise Deanna, though she’d bet her life that the girl couldn’t read or write. The older bar wench noticed the shifter staring and paused in her duties to speak a bit. “That’s Bess, mine own. She does a fair enough job here, and keeps ‘em coming back, if ya know what I mean?” Myrna smiled then at Deanna, revealing yellowing teeth. “Sometimes a man come by here looking for a bit of fun and Bess there treats ‘em right.” The older woman leaned in conspiratory and Deanna nearly retched at the smell wafting from the other. “I hear them complain about the prices at Siren’s being a bit on the high side, so my lass charges less. All on the side y’know. She ain’t no whore, just a way to earn a few extra gold a week.”

Deanna finished her ale, a dark brow arched as she set the empty tankard upon the bar counter. “I assume she uses an empty room here for her uh, tasks? Doesn’t management have a problem with that?” Myrna snorted as she refilled Deanna’s ale. “Hardly. Ain’t had no one here to run this place for a while. Not bloody likely there’ll be one here any time soon. “ She handed Deanna a full tankard and went about wiping the wood counter. “’Sides, we run things here just fine. Don’t need no outsider comin’ to tell us what to do.”

Deanna nodded and smiled some. I bet you don’t. Aren’t you in for a surprise? Myrna called out to a boy in the back. “Jacky-Boy! Get these dirty plates in the back, boy! They don’t wash themselves, hear?” Amber orbs flickered over a boy a few years younger than Bess, who smiled shyly to the shifter as he reached for a large square bucket that contained the dishes. Nothing exceptional about him, and upon closer inspection, Deanna noted there was something slightly off about the boy. “Your son?” she asked Myrna. The woman nodded and with a shove, sent the boy back in the kitchen. “Yep, that dummy’s mine. Jack. He’s not much all up in here,” she tapped the side of her head, “and he don’t talk much, but he works hard and that’s all that matters.” Suddenly Myrna drew herself up straighter, a stern look in her eyes. “I take care of my own, I have you know. Do the best I can.” Deanna nodded and smiled as she sipped at her ale. “Of that, I do not doubt.” Your own yes, you steal and your daughter whores, while this place loses money.

She found out through more idle chit-chat that an older man named Dev worked in the kitchen as a cook. Jacky-Boy assisted Dev and also worked as a busboy, while Myrna and Bess tended the tavern and cleaned. The food wasn’t half bad either, as Deanna sampled some beef barley soup, she took note of that. All in all, things ran, but the Tavern wasn’t turning a profit despite all. She would remedy that soon enough. She also found out that all four workers lived at the Oak Barrel, taking up residence in two small rooms. Deanna didn’t have a problem with that either, for at least she knew they’d always be at work on time. What she did have a problem with was the stealing, the soliciting, and the general lack of hygiene of her staff.

Ah, good times are ahead. Deanna handed two coins to Myrna as payment and bid her a goodnight. Instead of heading back home though, Deanna roamed the city at night. This could be quite the challenge, but I’m more than up for it. Why not? Deanna had considered firing everyone and replacing them with her own people, but considering she didn’t actually have any people at the moment, she would make do with what she had. Perhaps I can talk Quinn into coming on board for a bit? Thinking of her mate brought a smile to her lips. Wait until he found out she was now a respectable working woman. A boss in her own right. Heh, Boss Lady. Deanna smiled to herself as she strolled the nearing empty streets of the city. Let the fun begin.

Deanna sat behind the large wooden table that served as her desk, in a small musty room filled with boxes, crates and gods knew what else that served as her office and frowned. Heavily frowned. The new manager of the Oak Barrel studied the ledger over and over again until she felt that her eyes would burst from their sockets. Disgusted, she grabbed the worn leather book and threw it aside. This place should be making money, yet where was it?

Monetary transactions had been kept, and kept orderly to her surprise, save for the past year. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. No records, nothing. And why should there be, Deanna thought bitterly, the damned staff was pocketing it. Was, but no longer under her critical eye. How this place managed to stay in business was beyond her.

The shifter stood and stretched before making her way to the small window to open it, allowing the early morning light to chase away the dreariness. The room was stifling hot and Deanna appreciated the chilly air that finally filtered in. Nostrils flaring slightly, Deanna had to smile despite her ire. Winter would soon come to an end, for the shifter could taste Spring in the air. Spring. Her favorite season. Sure she could attribute spring to green leaves, colorful flowers and happy little birds chirping in their nests, but in truth, Spring meant that more animals would be populating the forests now, and more animals meant more sport for the hunt.

Turning away from the window, Deanna began to tend to the clutter in the storage room/office. The tavern was quiet for now, but as soon as the sun was high in the sky, people would begin to filter in, looking for their midday food and drink. The main room was spotless, Deanna had seen to that. Chairs, tables, benches were cleaned and polished. The floors were swept and washed. Even the rooms for rent, empty as they were momentarily, had been tidied. Linens were changed, carpets were taken outdoors and beaten until no dust or dirt remained. The bar area and kitchen had also been given a good scrubbing. Deanna hated filth, hated it with a passion. Cleanliness and order were important in her opinion. The shifter had zero problem gathering her staff and putting them to work.

Deanna was no exception. She had assisted her reluctant team who did naught but grumble and complain even as they did her bidding. The quartet had hoped to gain some extra hours of rest, but Deanna was having none of that. Too long they had let this place slack, and their new boss meant to see that remedied. Presently, Myrna and her petulant daughter were washing and peeling vegetables, while old Dev was skinning rabbits caught for stew. Deanna was keeping young Jack busy by gathering all garbage and piling it behind the tavern to be burned. Reluctant they were, true, but all complied.

Though weary herself, the shifter knew it was time to tackle her own office. The bar was centered in the main room, with the kitchen situated its left, and her office to its right. Her new office was a dumping ground obviously, and Deanna was determined to have it presentable before the tavern's opening. Everything had a place, and Deanna meant to find it. While she worked, her mind wandered as it tended to do. She thought of the four workers, and the shocked surprise they received when, armed with her keys, Deanna strolled into the Oak Barrel the morning after her visit to announce herself as management.

Dev took it well, nodding and offering a greeting to her. Even Jacky-Boy seemed pleased to meet his new lady boss, the simple boy smiling his shy smile to her as Deanna took his hand and shook it. Myrna was not as warm. In fact, the older woman radiated her anger at being taken off guard by the woman she had confided secrets in, a relative stranger, only to find herself face to face with her new employer. Deanna had shrugged as she dropped into a chair to regard her new staff. "Like it or not, I'm here. I plan on running things my way, and my way only. You can take it, or you can shift your ass out the door, but I'm not going to listen to you bitch and whine," she had told the aging bar wench.

Myrna had grudgingly accepted Deanna's proposal, which was really no proposal at all. Deanna was firm but fair. She allowed them to keep their jobs, and even continue to reside in their quarters at the inn. All she asked in return was that they bathe regularly "My nose is sensitive and frankly, you all reek of sewage. If you mean to work for me, you'll keep your person and your clothes clean." (There was no negotiations on that matter), worked when required to (for Deanna had absolutely no use or tolerance for lazy people or lame excuses. Hell if they lived where they worked, surely they could show up!), and never, ever try to steal from her. The latter, Deanna had stood to proclaim, her amber orbs darkening as she spoke slowly and clearly so that there was no misunderstanding.

"Work hard for me, and you will earn each and every piece of gold I pay you, that much I promise. I plan on making a great deal of money by this Tavern, for I don't believe in busting my ass for charity, and neither should you. However, and this you had better heed: you steal from me, you pocket any coin that does not belong to you, and I swear that not only will you lose your job, you'll lose your thieving hand as well." The shifter smiled then, revealing sharp white canines. "Other than that, I'm rather easy going." Only half a lie, she reflected later.

Both boy and man nodded their understanding, and Myrna even had the grace to apologize for her early surliness, but Bess, (Ah, gods love Bess), her pretty face all scrunched up in anger, opened her mouth to voice her displeasure, and to throw insults. "I know what you are, woman. I've seen your kind before, mongrels! Think you can come in here and just bully us! I'll be damned if I work my ass off for a dog like you!" The young lass lifted her head in defiance, much to the chagrin of her mother who tried vainly to hush her.

Deanna let Bess rant, for she was secretly pleased with the girl's bravery, or stupidity, until finally she stood before the shorter and younger gal. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, yet laced with icy tones. "Two things. First, call me a dog again, and I'll gut you like a fucking pig and hang you outside the tavern by your own entrails." The girl's eyes seemed impossibly wide and her mouth dropped open to speak, but Deanna cut her off with a slice of her hand. "I didn't give you leave to speak. Second," she continued on, leaning forward so that her nose touched Bess'.

"You don't work your ass off, at least not for the tavern, but you will if you want to stay here. The only work your ass does is when it's getting slammed from behind by some piss ant who pays you for sex. You want to be a whore? Do it at Siren's Corner, not here. This isn't a brothel. This is a place for eat, drink, and sleep, not for fucking gutter whores. You understand that, little girl, and you'll do just fine here. I'm giving you a freebie, but mouth off to me again, and you'll lose that tongue that the men in this City so love." And that was the end of that with Bess. Deanna had nothing but meek obedience from the girl.

All in all, things were progressing rather well this first week of hers. It was just her own personal office that needed work now. Deanna knew she had issues, knew she wasn't the easiest person to get along with, with perhaps the exception of Quinn. Quinn. Her mate was on her mind as well as she dusted the shelves.

Deanna knew what a bitch was was being to him since they came back from the Gorge. She should have been happy that he was rid of his demon, and happier that he was like her now, a mate in true. Her beast was nothing short of thrilled, so why wasn't she? Deanna chewed on her lip unhappily. She knew deep down, the root of her dismay, for she suffered it daily. Deanna worked so very hard every day of her life to keep the beast at bay. Control. She had to have control. To let it slip at any point was to lose her humanity. At least, that was her belief.

Deanna sorted and stacked boxes as her stomach grumbled. She had forgotten to eat again. This was nothing new, for as of late, when she wasn't devoting her hours to the Oak Barrel, she was coming home to Quinn for sex, followed by arguments. The sex was wonderful, the fighting not so much. Yet they always seemed to go hand in hand. Deanna knew the reason for this as well. Their beasts. Their beasts reveled so much in each other, nothing else seemed to matter. Before Quinn had 'changed', he and Deanna used to talk, lengthy conversations about everything and nothing. Now it was nothing but sex and violence. Which wasn't so terribly awful in truth, but for Deanna, it meant that the control she fought so hard for was slipping, and Quinn was the reason.

The shifter wiped her brow, leaving a smudge of grime on her forehead as she surveyed the room. It wasn't perfect, but it did indeed look better. She glanced out the window and saw with surprise that the sun was near high. It was almost time to open the tavern for business. Had she been so busy that time ran by so quickly without her knowing?

Deanna left her office and entered the main room where her staff was eating their own lunch before work. She smiled as Dev set a plate of stew on the bar for her. Taking her seat, she dug in heartily, praising the older man's culinary expertise, as all five basked in the temporary peace and quiet. When they had finished, she helped the two women clean up before unbolting the tavern doors. Customers were already waiting outside, gold ready to be spent, food and drink ready to consume.

Deanna welcomed them inside and as they sat, she turned to face her staff before things became busy and hectic and slapped her hands together. "Well people, let's do this. Time to make some money." She grinned at them, and was happy to see each of them return one to their boss. "I see beachfront property in my future."