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Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.

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Bottom of Page    Message Board > Roleplaying Guilds > The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.   << [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48] [49] [50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [57] [58] [59] [60] [61] [62] [63] [64] [65] [66] [67] [68] [69] [70] [71] [72] [73] [74] [75] [76] [77] >>
Eruwen enjoyed playing darts with Laurel and Ham, and wondered why Laurel and the rest of the occupants of the Inn didn’t reciprocate her confirmation of the toast. She drank her beer nonetheless and enjoyed its smoothness. Eruwen watched Laurel wander off in a somber state, and wondered if she could do anything to help, not that she was very good at cheering people up, but she contemplated it. She would go check on her in a bit if she didn’t see her return.

“Well, Haaammm,” she emphasized sarcastically, skipping the Mr. this time, “you certainly have a good aim, but I’m still a bit ahead of you since my darts all hit in the direct center of Sauron’s face.” She threw her second hand of darts, and hit the center again with all but one. “Ooo, perhaps we’ll be even now,” she smiled and winked at Ham, retying her long, gold-silver hair back in a black, leather strap.

She glanced back over her shoulder at the dark elf once again, and still couldn’t make up her mind from where she might know him. She noticed this time that he was looking very forlorn though, and thoroughly identified with him.

OOC: Yes, Kurt was speaking German. Wow, that’s a pretty intense poem. Orcs…hmph. Everything’s family friendly though. Basically, the words don’t show up from Google because they are contractions. For example, geh’n is actually gehen (to go), seh’n is actually sehen (to see), fleht is flehen (to plead), gebor’n is geboren (born), verflucht (cursed or hexed). You get the idea…very intense poem. Not bad though, not bad; not chipper, but not bad for an orc poem Orc Grinning Smilie .
Grondy set a large frothy tankard of Gimli's Finest before Kurt, 'Thanks fer the song there young feller, some day you'll meet a nice, or not so nice lady Uruk, and things will look a tad bit brighter for you.'

'Eva, I think there's a few more bunches of garlic hanging in the rafters over that room in the east wing above where that young maiden with the vampyre fetish was staying last year, before she up and disappeared without paying her bill. I'll check a little latter, and if not, I'll order some more from Maggot in the morning.'

After washing and drying a few glasses, mugs and tankards, and as he was storing them on the shelf behind the bar, he continued, 'I'm starting to smell that soup now Eva, and it sure do smell good. Much more better than the orc sweat and dwarf barf that's been wafting through here lately. I suppose its about time for me to fork out the rushes and hose down the place again.'

'I wish Gimli had installed a drain in the middle of the common room floor. It's a pain sweeping all that dirty water out the front door and it makes a swamp out of the court yard or a week or ten afterwards, depending on the weather. And all that incessant neek-breek, breek-neek, neek-breek throughout the nights, do tend to get on ones nerves. Oh well, at least the skeeters and midges won't hatch out of that water, cause it kills off their parents afore they can start a family,' he ends with a wink.

OOC: Thanks for the translations ladies.
The door opens and several large arms toss a recently sober ar-37 through the opening. He lands in the middle of the room and draws surprisingly little attention to himself. He climbs to his feet, and brushes himself off. When did I leave? He asks Grondy. But before he can answer he says," I don't remember leaving. But, I recall being in another tavern, wonder how I got their..... And I was talking to orcplumber, but then we started fighting. After that............ OH ORCPLUMBER! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE? oh... right...that whole sowrd the neck thing. I'M SO SORRY! (realizes that he now has the puzzled glare of the entire inn) Then those bouncers threw me out and brought me back here. Pour me a beer please Grondmaster, and none of that watered down stuff you give to all the other humans.Sorry but you know how it is, your mortal and I'm.....nevermind." He wraps his cloak around himself and runs away. Then comes back for his beer and climbs the rafters to drink it.
Eva pops her head out of the kitchen again. "The soup is done, so who wants..." She trails off, interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a new patron. Since he seemed to know Grondy, she didn't point out the singing sign, but did think he looked as though he could use some soup. Popping back into the kitchen, she filled several bowls with soup and put them on a tray, then worked her way over to the new customers rafter. handing out bowls of soup along the way. Standing back so as not to get ale dripped on her, she called up, "Would you like some soup, sir?"
Ar-37 says yes and thank you. While he is eating the soup he keeps staring at the moon, just about full, but not quite. "Soon,"He whispers,"Sooo soon!"
LIttle Loni dwarf, quite sober again, is getting suspicious of AR-ediain 47. You know what you do when you feel suspicious? Drink a million beers to get unsupicious!!!!

"I can beat that!" said Ham to Eruwen. He grabbed the darts from Sauron's face and went back to where he was standing. He took a large gulp....and then a second gulp....and thena third of his ale, finishing it off. He burped loudly and it shook the nearby tables. Dizziness was beginning to take hold on his head, and his eyes began to go lazy. "Yeah, I'll beat ya!" He threw one of the claws at the face, or what seemed to be Sauron's face. He really couldn't tell now, his vision was so blurred. It had only been a few mugs. The next one he threw at the same target, but it stuck in the wall a few feet from the target. The next claw was aimed at Sauron's face once again, but it instead embedded into a large blurry person that screamed at the pain of a dragon claw in his/her body. "Uh-oh." I think I need to get out of here for a little bit. Maybe I'll hide in the restroom." He quickly bade Eruwen farewell and hid in the restroom, passing out on the floor.
Eva jumped backward and narrowly avoided being hit by a stray dart from the dragonclaw darts game, which flew past her and grazed a customer. Unfortunately, she was still holding her tray with bowls of soup on it, so when she stepped back quickly and stumbled over a chair, barley beef soup with carrots, onions, and a fair amount of garlic went flying into the air and landed all over Eva and several of the taverns patrons...
Which gave the dwarf a lovely opportunity to go steal some ale.

"ROLL OUT THE BARREL!!!!" she began to sing. If you could call it singing.

A fairly timid half-elf decides to walk through the door in the middle of everything. Her mouth drops open when she sees another elf on the floor, covered in soup, and a dwarf singing (and very drunk).

"What's going on?" the half-elf asks curiously. She gives the elf on the floor a strange look. "Eva, is that you?"
Eva shakes soup out of her hair and hears a familiar voice.
Finaille tries not to laugh once she finds the humor in the situation.

"So Eva, when you told me you got a job... I didn't imagine you on the floor with soup all over you. What kind of job are you working?"
"I'm the part time cook here. I didn't expect to see you here at the Khazad-Dumish Inn! If you want a drink you have to sing, though... and sorry about the dwarf, it is probably best to ignore her as she rarely stays concious for long, although she's been better about that lately..."
Finaille swallows.

"I have to sing now?" Gee... what could I sing?

you don't remember me but i remember you
i lie awake and try so hard not to think of you
but who can decide what they dream?
and dream i do...

i believe in you
i'll give up everything just to find you
i have to be with you to live to breathe
you're taking over me

have you forgotten all i know
and all we had?
you saw me mourning my love for you
and touched my hand
i knew you loved me then

i believe in you
i'll give up everything just to find you
i have to be with you to live to breathe
you're taking over me

i look in the mirror and see your face
if i look deep enough
so many things inside that are just like you
are taking over

It was a depressing song the young half-elf had known since a child. She blushes.

"Well, do you suppose I could have a drink? And a job... that is why I came here... since my best friend works here as well..." She smiles shyly.
Eruwen looked around her and wondered what was going on with all the dwarves passing out. It reminded her of Mirkwood in happier times and all the wine that went around there. She laughed when she remembered the time she and her best friend had been so drunk that they turned Thranduil's main hall into a mud pit. Don’t ask how and why, but they thought it would be fun and funny to say the least. Thranduil, of course, didn’t find it as amusing as the rest of the elves once he sobered up a bit. But, that was at a time when Thranduil and all the other elves of the Mirkwood realm would speak to Eruwen.

She put down the dragon-claw darts and went to find, Laurel, who had walked away from the dart game so somberly…
"Dunno if you can get a job, we already have two people working here other than Grondy... Speaking of which, perhaps someone should check on Laurel... hmm... but I can get you some soup, and I'm sure Grondy will be getting you your complimentary first ale soon. You have to talk to Laurel about the job as well as Grondy- she seems to enjoy serving, but also likes taking part in the festivities, so perhaps you could get in part time... Or maybe Grondy will hire you to do odd jobs, like repaint that sign. Let me get you that soup, and then maybe I'll be able to talk a little. Suddenly hearing a particularly loud verse (or something) being half-yelled, half-sung by Loni, she says, "I better get her some ale, too..."
Eruwen, knowing how it feels to not be missed, made her way down the hallway, ducking to miss a few beams, to where she was told she could find Laurel. She hardly knew the woman, but she felt a need to check on her. She held her ear to the door to see if she could hear anything, feeling the abrasive wood on her cheek. There was no sound. She tapped lightly on the door. "Laurel? Are you there? Are you alright?"
Eruwen looked around her and wondered what was going on with all the dwarves passing out.
Hey hey, there's only one. And have you guys actually noticed I haven't paid for a beer wsince I walked in?

The dwarf ambled past. "BEER!!!! BEER!!!!" and promptly began to raid the kitchen.
Eva looks wearily at the crazy dwarf. "Neither," she said,"has almost anyone else. I'm really not sure how Mr. Grondy keeps this place running. Speaking of Grondy, he seems to have disappeared, as does my other co-worker, so it seems I'm minding bar for a little while. Guess I better go greet Fin in a more official capacity... like, with a bowl of soup and a tankard of Gimli's Finest." She glares at Loni. "Don't eat everything, okay?" She leaves the kitchen. A second later she comes back. "Or drink it, either."
a tall elf enters the bar, he appears to have been involved in a particularly chaotic stag night, on his forehead in red lipstick is written "Fingolfin". he begins, "any of you noble patrons seen a friend of mine? about yai high,dark hair, goes by the name of....." he stops when he sees the apparant lack of staff and a dwarf in a corner surrounded by licquor, apparantly attempting to drown himself in alcohol...
Drizzt is looking around the room with his lavender eyes his body tence as if he expects being attacked.
Laurel thought she could hear a noise outside of her liquor-induced stupor, and grumbled, "One more minute, Mom." As the noise grew, she became aware that she could recognize the sound a little. She sat up too quickly, and her head began to swim. "Ugh. Need. Water." In all her life, she had not drank as much of her family recipe cordial liquor as she had this time! "Who's there? Lady Eruwen? I can't get up, my head hurts...I'll make some grub later. Is it Eva's day off? Sir Grondy'll have my head! Lady Eruwen, do you have water?" She yelled through her door to Eruwen. She could hardly move without the vertigo catching up with her and wasn't making sense. "I drank too much swig again, Eruwen. The door's unlocked, come in, I don't feel so good...Blek!" The remaining alchohol in her system made its breif appearance on the floor. "Maybe you shouldn't come in! I sicked! I better clean it up! Don't tell Grondy, please?" Laurel loved hangovers about as much as a sack of warg dung and this one was a doozie.
Grondy rolls another ale keg up from the cellar, "Hoo boy!" he says as he gets too the top, and wiping the sweat from his eyes with the cleanest corner of his not so clean apron continues, "I wish Gimli would install a dumbwaiter. Those stairs have too many bumps in 'em to make keg rolling easy."

He draws a tankard of Gimli's Finest and slides it down the bar to Finaille nailo, "Here you go Ms. Fin. And thanks fer the song. Would you like some Spicy Balrog Wings, Fried Orc Knuckles, or Watcher Rings to go with that?"

"Mr. Fingolfin sir, have you sung your song for your first drink yet? Its our rule you know, pointing at the Sign?"
The door of the inns opens slowly.. as in slow motion.... like a very smooth dream.. and from the darkness outside, enters a man. Tall he is, bearded, and behing all that beard and mud, you could imagine his face..... exhausted, worried....His sword hanging from his side, and the most odd thing about him.. he only shows one hand...
Stands there, and after taking a look around the bar, he breaks the silence and says "I am here looking for a Squirrel.... an odd one...a Plastic Famelic one...an old PlasticSquirrell... have you seen one?" Suddenly.. the whole inn is immerse in a sepulcral graveyard-like silence.... He approaches the bar....
"indeed i saw the sign" said the elf, "but i thought perhaps i would wait for an audience......a semi-sober audience that is"
"a song, a song, well no-one likes to blow their own trumpet but here goes, i shall blow it like a trumpeter with OCD"

"Lord of all Noldor
A star in the night
And a bearer of hope
He rides into his
Glorious battle alone
Farewell to the valiant warlord......."

the elf sings smugly

".......The iron crowned,
growing closer
Swings his hammer
Down on him
Like a thunderstorm
He's crushing
Down the Noldor's
Proudest king"

"now can i get a drink, a whiskey would be nice, thats whiskey with and "ey" not a "y" if you would be so kind?"
But alas, the dwarf had stolen all the whiskey. She had two barrels in her arms, and was alternately pouring them into her mouth. She HADN'T paid for either.
"Thank you, dear sir, for the drink." She nods to Grondy and orders Watcher Rings along with that. She turns to Eva.

"So, my friend, who am I supposed to talk to about the job, now?"
Glory findel strides into the inn,being a newcomer he bumps into several tables along the way before asking the innkeeper for a drink. Finding that the inn was ot of wiskey he naturaly decides to go with an Athelas shooter and sits down at a near by table. He wonders about the dwarf sneaking away in the back corner with two barrels of ale, but deciding it a comfortable and homey inn he decides to stay the night.
OOC: this will be one of my last three posts and the last one on this thread.
Drizzt gets to his feet tossing a gold coin to gimlie as well as a block of minthril. "See You around master dwarf." he says as he walks out of the door.
"Lord Glory findel sir, I'll fetch you your 'Athelas shooter' as soon as you sing your song: its our rule you know," says Grondy pointing at the Sign?

"So long Master Drizzt, return when you can, your custom is always welcome here."

"And here's your Watcher Rings Ms Finaille," he continues placing a plate of golden brown rings before her. "Might I also call you Fin or is that name reserved for your close friends?"

"Say friend," he says to the one handed man approaching the bar, "I haven't seen the Squirrel around these parts for ... oh, probably nigh on a month, though it may have been only a couple weeks. And if you want a drink you'll have to sing first," again pointing to the sign. And if you're in the market for a replacement for your missing extremity, there's a troll in the basement who deals in the replacement of body parts, though his stock all appears to used. I say this only if your interested, no insult intended"
"Non taken friend, but as that hand holded a Silmarill once, it is a honour for it not being replaced... as for my song... well...I´ll wait here for the Squirrel while i drink some beer....ah, the song.. well, perhaps that would be a problem... you see... I am not very keen on singing on your language.. but i can make it up to you.. and sing a song as I did once, in the border of Taur-nu-fuin, before Anfauglith, while headed to Thangorodrim...when i still had both hands.. and my love was for one of the immortal race.. :

Adios dulce tierra y cielo del norte
benditos para siempre, pues aqui yació
y aqui corrio con miembros ligeros
bajo la Luna, bajo el Sol,
Lúthien Tinúviel,
tan bella que ninguna lengua mortal
puede decirlo.
Aunque cayese en ruinas todo el mundo
y se deshiciera, arrojado de vuelta
desvanecido en el viejo abismo,
aun asi fue bueno que se hiciese
-el crepusculo, el alba, la tierra, el mar-
para que Lúthien fuera por un tiempo....

Lightfoot glanced to the newcomer and watched him carefully. She sat up straight at his mention of the Silmarils. She looked and saw the missing hand, immediately making the connection..her cousin had told her so many tales of Beren...she smiled behind the hood of her cloak, placing her pipe to her lips.
Ahh, the song...hmm, ahh here's one you'll like Master Gimlie, it's an oldie but a goodie. Though I quite doubt it has anything to do with something going on now... Treasure hunt anyone!?

Oooo Far o'er the misty mountains cold
to dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
to seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
while hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far o'er the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carried thre for themselves
And harps of gold;where no man delves
There they lay long,and many a song
Was sung unheard by man or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
Then dragon's ire more fiece than fire
Laid low their towers and house frail.

The mountains smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far o'er the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

"Cheers!" and Glory findel drank along with a couple men at the bar.
Rhapsody smiled at the mentioning of the Silmarils. She knew the person who last held them before they were cast away into the depths of the sea. Even so, she would soon meet him again to sing the songs from the past and catch up with the news of the current day. Surely he would be interested in the sudden return of Beren and Fingolfin. She noted it all and recited it in a tale over and over in her head.

She watched how the Grondmaster pointed to the sign over and over again, was the service that poor or was her tankard kept empty for a hidden purpose?
No, it's because the dwarf keeps clearing out the ale. This time she was trying to stir up an elf-tossing competition.
"Who wants to volunteer for the elf-tossing competition?" she yelled. "Come on, dwarf-tossing competitions are boring, we only have one dwarf in here anyway! Tell you what, I'll toss you all, and whoever gets tossed the furtherrest wins!! It means you're less fat."
SHe was surprised that there weren't any contestants.
Elf tossing compition...I think I should toss back a couple more drinks before I get into that sort of thing.
The door of the bar opened again...this time.. there were no darkness outside, but a kind of light that could not be described briefly... IT was a man... or it could also pass as an elf... tall he was.. and of an immortal beauty... Earendil his name.. blessed they say he was.. but with a smile on his face... he approached the bar..... Now now mr. Dwarf, let's talk about that elf-tossing competition... i would say that it could be a hobbit-tossing instead... turning towards Beren, raising his beer, he said "glorious this moment is, my friend, joyfull the meeting, precious the time... cheers"
while all this had been goin on Fingolfin had been on a covert mission to steal some whiskey from the now almost comatose dwarf, he had succedeed and was now making a hasty getaway before he was seen......
Glory findel is the only one who notices Fingolfin, he slips quietly off his stool not to catch him but to share in Fingolfin's plunder.
Fingolfin is quite happy to share, and grabs a couple of glasses, chuckling.
Gory findel walks back through the door a couple minutes later with some of his glory lost and a bit of nausia and dizziness gained. Whoa! ahh! Who let the pink bunnies in here, o hahaha much to drink think have I, augh,'burp'.

He then continues to pass out on the floor.
'Ah the sailor has joined us at well... interesting,' Rhapsody leaned back with a smile and started to gauge if she sould put her money on the dwarf Loni or on the elf Glory findel....
Grondy passes out tankards of Gimli's Finest to the recent singers and hustles around the place with replacement drinks for the rest of the paying customers as well as refilling the various plates and bowls of nibbles.

"Oh, by the by, Gimli is Gimli_axe_wielder, our absentee innkeeper; I'm just filling in for him until he returns. And If you want to play 'Toss the Other', I'll suggest you include our drunken Dwarf in your game as the guest of honor, but not by her beard and pease do it outside, so as not to disturb our rafter hanging customers."
Glory findel, waking on the floor, looks around the room slowly. What's in that ale. Shaking his head he stands up and sits at a near-by table. I feel like I've been mashed up by an orc ram, ugh.
Would it be asking to much for a cup of strong coffee?
"ALE!!!!" Ham came running out of the restroom, awakened from his slumber, with axe above his head. "ALE!!!!" He realized he was holding his axe out and put it in the sheath on his back. "Grondy, sir, may I have another of Gimli's Finest?" He looked around, and he noticed the other Dwarf that is usually passed out running around asking Elves if they want to participate in an Elf-throwing contest....sounded fun to Ham. He liked throwing Elves...maybe it had something to do with being a dwarf...
"I don't know if we have any of that, but I have heard that willow bark tea is good for headaches... I think we might be more likely to have some of that. Do we, Grondy? If so, Laurel might want some too..."
"I only drink ale! Tea is for elves and hobbits!" said Ham the clumsy dwarf.
Holding her ear to the door, Eruwen heard Laurel getting sick as well as her pleas for water. She couldn’t help but smile with sympathy. She had been there many times herself. “Hold on, Laurel. I’ll be right back with some water and some rags, as well as a swig of pulverized marsh grass, a remedy that Thranduil used to cook up for elf hangovers. Oh, and don’t worry, I won’t tell Grondy.” Eruwen turned to walk back down the hallway, but in her speed to help out Laurel, she forgot to duck, hitting her head on one of the low ceiling beams. She fell unconscious to the floor.
LOL, Eruwen-I've actually done that before! Not on a beam, but on an open door...

Laurel stayed safely inside her quarters for what felt like eternity; Eruwen had stopped making noise outside of her room and she remained on her bed recovering until nearly evening. When she finally had the strength and her motor skills back, she opened her door and walked into the hall, and just as she did so, she tripped over Eruwen and toppled down to the floor herself. "Lady Eruwen! I'm so sorry-didn't see ya there! Lady Eruwen? Are you alright? Hey!" Laurel nudged her gently and looked at the huge bump on her forehead."Ouch! Okay, I'll get help!" Laurel was still clumsy from her hangover, but she made her way out into the bar area of the tavern and yelled out,"HELP!" Seeing all of the newly-arrived male elves, she said, "You-all of you strong elven types, follow me! Lady Eruwen has been knocked out cold with a nasty bump on her head!"
"Sorry, Mr. Ham, I was talking to Glory findel, who has a headache. I'm sure Grondy will hand you your ale in a moment. Oh, Fin, you're supposed to talk to Grondy, you know, the one who gave you the ale and Watcher rings? And Laurel, who..." Suddenly, Eva was interrupted by Laurel herself, shouting that Eruwen was unconcious. Since Laurel herself looked none too steady, Eva hurried toward her, caught her as she stumbled over a barstool, and asked hurriedly, "What happened?"
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