Thread: The Barad-Dūrish Inn
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Hello and Welcome to the Barad-Dūrish Inn, the leading Inn for finding Warriors, Soldiers and Thugs for your Service. I am Morgurg, Owner and finest warrior of this inn. We have a fine selection of the best drinks possible, a fine Arena and the strongest selection of warriors this side of Gondor.
So Please, Come in, Have a Duel, Tell a joke. Do what ever you wish. There is just one rule; All first time visitors MUST prove themselves as warriors by surviving 20 seconds with my pet Warg, Chinabon.
Occupational opportunities are available, and Warriors for the monthly fighting contests are wanted.
Hello and Welcome to the Barad-Dūrish Inn, the leading Inn for finding Warriors, Soldiers and Thugs
Contact the Referee when you have been challenged and been accepted into a duel.
2A. Near Fatal Injury
2B. Un-Armed for 20 Seconds
2C. A Player Surrenders
Up to 2 Swords/Scimitars
Up to 2 Knives
No Ranged Weapons
FATAL ATTACKS ALLOWED IN SEMI or QUARTER FINALS OF TOURNAMENTS
Owner - Morgurg
Bartender - Arthion
Referee - [Wanted]
Cook - [Wanted, Temporarily Arthion]
"Could have warned me!" Arthion roared, wrestling the Warg into the center of the battle-zone of the Arena. 50 Goblins watched from the seats surrounding it, as Arthion whipped out his sword, pointing it at Chinabon.
Gornag, an Uruk-hai, stumped into the dirty, smelly, maggot-infested, unhygenic tavern and grinned. He was wearing full Uruk armour, had a sword over his shoulder and stank.
"I want DRINK!!" he roared at the barkeeper. "NOW!!"
The goblin pointed a grubby finger at a sign, which already had several knives sticking out of it and bloodstains all over it.
"I can't read, you little idiot!" shouted Gornag, punching the goblin in the face. "What do I have to do?!"
"Warrior, you may have some of Morgurg's Finest, I heard the door open." Morgurg grunted, re-entering the Inn.
"You Want Drink! Prove your Strength and last 20 Seconds against Chinabon!" Morgurg shouted through the door, walking through and pouring some of Morgurg's Finest into 2 mouldy glasses, taking them to the Arena, he passed one to Arthion, and waited for Gornag to fight. Kug the Bartender groaned, before throwing his hat onto the floor, retiring.
Who wants to be Bartender?
He roared even louder, shattering some glasses, and charged towards the Warg. It leaped over him, and he swerved, getting his sword ready. The Warg circled round him for a while, then...
"Time's up!" someone yelled, and it was over. Gornag ran to the side to avoid having one of his legs bitten off, and snatched the foul mug of ale from the goblin, draining it in one go. There was some unidentifiable sludge at the bottom.
*Gzgnug: An extreme Orcish swearword, its translation unprintable.
OOC: Captainduck, retiring so soon? Think of all the fights, drinking, and cursing you'll miss!
"I Will take the role of Bartender." He shouted, firing an arrow into the old bartenders head.
"I challenge that foul-mouthed guy other there, who just beat the Warg Trial." Arthion shouted, pointing his sword at Gornag.
"Me against him in that tournament."
I Think Morgurg and the Bartender are Different People. The Bartender retired so one of us could take the job...?
"I wan' to join up in the competition!" he said to the goblin. "Write me on tha' list."
"Goblin, Your name is un-readible." Arthion muttered, looking at Gornag.
"I am Arthion, looks like we are against each other."
March-April 2010 Tournament
The First Barad-Durish fighting tournament. If 6 Warriors Enter, The 2 Fighters with the Most wins get automatically Promoted to The Semi-Finals. Atleast 4 People Needed.
The Fights will be Secretly Randomised by a non-participant. The Results of the Randomisation will be sent to the 2 Participants, and they will fight. Only the Participants will know the outcomes.
He battered his breastplate with a fist and roared, something he had been doing quite a lot of in the past few minutes.
Arthion is still waiting for Gornag.
"'Ow long is this gonna take, then?" he asked. "We bin waiting long enough."
OOC: To be honest, I think the BDI should be a place to be as crazy, random and violent as you want, not sitting around waiting forever for people to join competitions. If anyone agrees, a random something migh just attack the inn...
Arthion grinned, and elbowed Gornag into the arena, whipping out his Sword and prepared for his victory. A Bell sounded. Round 1 of the Tournament had begun.
The problem is finding someone neutral...
There was a sudden roar from the beast entrance. Arthion spun, pulling out his scimitar. The metal bars separating the arena from the pack of Wargs snapped, and their leader with red stripes down his back leapt into the arena, with 2 more with less stripes behind him.
"Our duel is off. A Opponent with a Chance of beating me is much better, Orc." Arthion shouted, leaping over the side into the arena.
Arthion walked back behind the bar, and began to set up a wide-screen behind the bar, for the World Cup, one thing that The Khazad-Dumish inn didn't have. Apart from a pack of Wargs and a arena in the back.
Also, because there is a lot of new people recently, More people will join this one. In your face, Grondmaster!
'Oi! Arthion!' he shouted, seeing the screen. 'What's this rubbish you've put on? I don't care what happens with Cameroon and Denmark!'
He grabbed a bottle of beer off the counter, broke the cap off with his teeth and took a deep gulp.
'Tastes like it was boiled with maggots,' he said. 'S' nice.'
Gornag burped, and settled back in his chair.
"Oh right, the Wargs!" Arthion suddenly remembered, running back into the Arena. The 3 Wargs had just killed a pair of Hobbits, and were fighting an Uruk. Arthion grinned, and pulled out his Scimitars and threw them both into 2 of the Wargs, before rolling underneath the Warg third Warg and kicking it in the Groin. The Warg collapsed, squashing Arthion.
"Anyone gonna help?" Arthion shouted.
'COME ON MORDOR!!!' he yelled, spilling beer everywhere.
He tore off a bit of his dirty nail with his teeth and spat it out.
'I'm supportin' Isengard anyway,' he said. 'They thrashed Dunland in the qualifiers.'
He drank some more beer.
'See the Mirkwood versus Rhūn match?' he asked. 'The Elves are much better this year. Two-nil score.'
"YER A DISGRACE!" Arthion shouted, throwing a pint of beer at the Uruk, knocking him unconscious.
'You dare to attack me?' he shouted. 'Surrender while you can, worm.'
"Even though this is a pub that is in the middle of Mordor." Arthion muttered, punching the Uruk. Gondor smashed another goal into the empty net, making the score 8-2, before the Ref blew the final whistle.
"You just smashed us!" Arthion shouted sarcastically.
'Now you've made me really angry!' he roared, whacking Arthion's chest with the flat of his sword and striking him on his head with the bottom of the handle. He pushed the Chįsorian back across the bar, and swung at his neck.
"The drinks are going up by 5 golden pieces." Arthion muttered, helping Gornag up.
"Get into the Arena, and fight like a man!" Arthion shouted, pointing to the other room.
He grabbed another bottle of ale off the counter and sat back down in the moth-eaten chair he had been in before, putting his feet up.
"Yer a coward!" Arthion grumbled, and put the Shire V Mirkwood match on.
"And people are requesting to cancel the Far-Haradian World Cup, which is stupid." Arthion added.
'Weather's still looking somethin' awful out there,' he said, peering through one of the small, grimy windows at the rain-drenched world outside. 'Not gonna clear up for least 'nother few hours.'
'Whole last week's been like this,' he said, casting another foul glance out of the window. 'But the lands near the Hoarwell* aren't known for good weather.'
OOC: * Where I think the Inn should be.
"Into the arena now! Fight to the death!" Arthion muttered, pulling on his chain mail.
He grabbed his shield, slung it onto his arm and bashed Arthion across the face with it.
'D'you even know where the Hoarwell is, blockhead?' he growled.