The Burchell Arms Regulars/Members Test
From The Urban Dead Wiki
Well, you've decided to take out a BAR-tab, and settle down on the faded and slightly sticky banquette you've appropriated in the Burch; so the question is what you need to do to make it all official-like. Well, it's very straightforward. You need to visit our forum and introduce yourself at the very least; preferably you'll join in the community there as well; you won't have another character in the BAR either and the final thing you need to do is type The Burchell Arms Regulars in your Group Affiliation wotsit and that's it, you're in, and you've a line of credit with us that'd sink a small bank.
You don't even need to worry that your survivor's dark history as either a zombie, vandal, or even a murderer might deny you access to joining our group? Relax, the BAR welcomes all survivors, so long as they have forsaken these paths and are truly looking for a new start with us. Don't worry if you have a few zombie skills. Why, we even have one recruit who has the Brain Rot skill, and, surprisingly now... A teetotaller. I know, we thought it could never happen, but it has!
Finally, you can even add our little tag below to your wiki page if that floats yer boat.
Like a Group of Autistic Kindergartners...
We are a bit like that, if we're honest with ourselves. We're not the most organised group in the game, see; although, when the chips are down we do occasionally complain to the daft arse who dropped them in the first place. We also can get riled into action; it's a fine sight seeing us reel and veer around the streets of Rolt Heights and Pescodside, all angry and righteously indignant at the depravities and anguish that has befallen all of us in Malton; it's either that or the beer has gone warm. Anyhow, we don't really have a structure per se; we're more of a meritocracy and we vote and consult on all changes in policy and strategy. This we do on our forum, where you're very welcome to come and visit. We do have a system whereby we have some owner-operators who generally are the ones who're left cashing up on an evening, or arm-deep in the third floor lavvy trying to unblock what Mycrof has gone and left down there. They also try and offer a kindly guiding hand to the newer members, or those who're just that bit drunker.
So anyway, as a Regular you'll be able to count on the dang-tootingest group of drunks Malton could possibly produce.
All of these people can lay claim to their own tankard or bar-stool.
And well they might; becoming a regular of the Burch is approaching something holy; like Father O'Keefe's socks; once you become a regular then you join fairly hallowed company; however, you might want something a bit more. The following table describes our current regulars, the people who wander in, clutching their pocket-money handed to them by their significant others and demand their due - generally an alcoholic beverage of varying coldness depending on whether we've got a generator running. But we don't just have regulars, oh no Siree Bob...
We have Knights Watchmen, a band of brothers (and sisters) who strive to keep the place nice and tidy and griefer free. We have the Revive Corps who administer elastoplasts when we get papercuts and revive needles when we get eaten. We also have the Newsteam who... well, basically shirk their normal responsibilities in favour of getting right royally rollocksed. You can see who does what in our pub-quiz team outlined below...
Despite being as close to heaven as you can get without spending a fortune on illegal narcotics, or, worse, dying; we recognise that at times life (real or imagined) catches up with you and that you may move on. It's sad. We cry real, salty tears. But that's life in Malton. There's also, believe it or not, a few people who've been thrown out of the Regulars! These swines have basically shat in their own back yard, and, despite being as laid back as Timothy Leary after an accident in a Valerian factory we just couldn't stand for it.
So we turned our (collective) back on them in a very theatrical way. May we present for yr. opprobrium - the vilest of the vile...
The Ones We'd Erect a Blue Plaque For Here follows a roll-call of regulars who gave excellent service either as BAR employees, as managers, as owners or even just as regulars who did their duty; the ones who opened up whatever the weather; the ones who threw out the trouble-makers; the ones who polished the horse-brasses; the ones who stood out in the rain, waiting to jab colleagues and chums at Otto. We miss them greatly and wish we could talk to the dead like a demented medium. You know who you are. We love you dearly.
As we're such a popular bunch, gangs and groups across Malton want to bask in our reflected excellence and glory or, more accurately, think that we're so drunk we won't notice as they gradually half-inch our DVD collection and collect our benefit cheques. This wee section (wee as in small, and not urine, thank you) helps us to keep track of who owes us money and who we need to return the hedge-trimmer to.
What follows is a list of those we've come to an understanding with. That's not as creepy as it sounds; we're either Drinking Buddies with this group, enjoying their company; affording them first dibs on our pork scratchings and generally not moaning when they use all our loo roll; basically we're not going to have fisticuffs with them, and it's very likely we'll support them when they're in bother - or - we're Blood Brothers with them; this means we may as well share a bed with them along with our food, our socks, underwear and the best whisky - in effect these guys are like our best chums ever, and if you mess with them, well... You mess with us. And you wouldn't like us when we're messy.