Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.
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Grondy says, "Fionwë, bring that Warg meat into the kitchen, here let me help you with it, and thanks for thinking of us." And then in a whispered aside to him, "The stranger goes by the name of Alanon and I gather the sword used to be his lady friend, so don't bug him or she might prick your ears, or even fillet them. I'd walk easy around him until you you get the lay of the land, if you catch my drift." And as they walk back to the bar, Grondy continues in his normal voice, "Would you like a tankard of Gimli's Finest and what do I owe you for the Warg meat?"
Claw, hearing the mewing of Selen, wanders in from the kitchen, hops up on the bar and grooms himself as he nonchalantly eyes the newcomer to his domain.
What is Claw?
Etharion smiled at Ice and the fact that she didnt want to tell him who this person was. He probably knew the person himself. But he looked puzzled for a moment as she took his hand.
As she walked off, he caught the look in Amarie's eyes. "No Ama, i cant get you a cat like that. I did not find it like that. When i found her wandering all alone through the streets of Pelargir she was just a small kitten. I stuck her in my pocket (he says showing the large pockets on his robe), and there she stayed, until i came here to the Inn. I decided to give her to Ice as a birthday present. But some magical leakage from something in my pockets must have affected the wee kitten, cause now she can take on a full grown Nazgul!!
Alanon frowns at the mention of the wraiths and tucks his hair behind his ears sitting down in a chair and allowing his eyes to close as he sences the friendship around everyone here.
and some balrog wings, nica and spicccy
and wot is everyone up to?
is this turning into a reall RPG thingy?
cuz then im out....
Maydmarion sighs and watches her guest leave, walking to a barstool....she sits and sighs again...
"Oh Grondy...Grondy...Grondy.... can I have a long cold glass of something fizzy and appley"
She puts a little black box on the bar and just sits and looking at it without opening it......
Oh and some of those warg steaks would go down a treat with some onion rings please!
"Certainly Maydmarion, here you go warg steal smothered in onions and, actually your drink sounds good, I think I'll make two, one for you and one for me."
"How's it going Elrose, you got enough to eat and drink?"
"Claw is a kitten that was found in the sub-cellars of the Inn a few months back, he stays mostly in the kitchen now and is a wonderful mouser."
"Tell you what, how about this next tankard is on the house," Fionwë said putting the meat down.
"I 've heard of that sort of thing. His lady's spirit was trapped inside the blade. It takes a powerful sorcerer to do that. Alanon must have insulted the sorcerer pretty bad for him to do that. I think I may have once come across a wizard capable of that kind of magic. He was a cruel being, but even so, that kind of spell would have drained his power completely. I forget his name though."
Hoping to talk to Amarië about Wargs, he started walking over to the table...
Amarië was still a bit pouty because she didn't have a kitten-transforming big pocketed wizards robe, and who wouldn't be? (Umm.. no need to answer that.) Then she noticed Fionwë making his way in her direction and she smiled and gestured to a chair by her table. "Come and sit down my friend! You didn't happen to run into anyone who wanted to buy a pocket sized orc did you? Darned hard to get rid of they are.."
"Miss a cat that size would be hard to come by but I know a place where you could get a large cat if you really wish." Alanon's voice seems shaky but he says it anyway as he thinks back to the place where they trained those pathers to be hunting cats.
Taking a seat at Amarië's table, Fionwë replied,"Pocket sized orcs, no. Sounds like something a necromancer would have need of. But in that case, I don't think you'd want to sell it to one.
"Have you found any potential buyers for Wargs? I discovered a very large concentration of them between the northern edge of Mirkwood, the Misty Mountains, and Ered Mithrin, some little distance to the north of the area where Gandalf, Bilbo and their Dwarven companions were trapped by the Wargs. As I overheard your conversation shortly after I first came, I thought you'd be interested to know that. As the numbers are getting out of hand there, I'm sure the Beornings would be glad to help you capture some of them.
"The Lonely Mountain recently sent some dwarves out in a hunting party to that region, in an attempt to establish a path to their northern brethen. If it weren't for the fact that King Thranduil and his court, out giving chase to a stag, came to their rescue, the dwarves would have returned empy-handed and in diminished numbers." At this he stopped to quench his thirst, and give Amarië a chance to speak...
I like your new avatar Amarië, it fits you.
(OOC: I also live Amarië's new avatar: I can almost hear her "sscceeeeeeerrr" as she soars above Middle-earth hunting for food, ne'er do wellers, and the occasional in-trouble Istari.)
Okay, here's a plate of freshly made Bar-B-Qed Warg Ribs, thanks to Fionwë skill at hunting.
Ice sighed and sat down at a table, a lost, wistful look in her eyes. She stands and stumbles outside, where Selen the giant white-and-blue kitty didn't pounce on her. Selen just purred rather loudly and rubbed up against her. Ice flopped down on the ground beside the cat and smiled slightly as it dropped to lie down as well. Leaning against it, her wolfy tail splayed out to her side on the ground and hers and Selen's ears angled slightly downward to close out sound, Ice yawned, put her down, and began to fall asleep. Selen purred nonstop for a good hour, before sleep finally took her over as well.
being the insomniac she was, sleep was not really taking a hold of Nwhagen. She had been tossing, and shuffling in her bed for a good hour and a half, and decided she could no longer bear to stay in bed.
she threw off the blankets and slid into a dressing robe, as her nightgown was rather thin for the cold time of year. She looked over her shoulder at her sleeping sister, Lucreczia, and closed the door to the bedroom behind her.
She crept down the stairs into the still rowdy bar. she recieved many strange looks...after all, she was bound to, a beautiful young woman wandering around a bar in her night things! She settled at a tiny table beside the window, and flung it open. The icy cold mountain wind swept up her long black hair, and she closed her eyes feeling the breeze cool her.
Grondy hurried over to Nwhagen's table, "Good morrow Nwhagen, are you awake or sleep-walking? I see you are a fresh air fiend. Can I get you anything; maybe something to drink or eat?"
OOC. Awww, thanks boys. I stumbled upon this picture and it was just what I had been looking for. I love eagles. One day I was talking a little hike up the mountain here a golden eagle, or king eagle as we call them, glided calmly just above the treetops, over my head, looking at me before it was lifted up in the sky. Such lovely, majestic birds...
Amarië noded while Fionwë talked. "Interesting... interesting... Good wargs are hard to find. I usually try to train them from they are puppies. It get's harder if they get older and after they get the taste of fresh flesh..." She leaned forward and lowered her voice to avoid upsetting Grondy and other dwarves who might hear. "...dwarf flesh in particular, they get utterly hopeless and will eat anything that moves."
She leaned back again. "I do have buyers for my two darlings outside and he keeps asking for more, he's got this warg riding center you see, strange fellow.. so if any hunting trips should happen to leave a set or five of baby wargs motherless... I'm your gal!"
Etharion was a bit bored. He had been at the inn for nearly a fortnight now.
He drifted away from Amarie and the rest, he wasnt so much interested in warg breeding and pocket size orcs. He thought about going to see where Ice was, but he guessed she was with her "kitty", and he didnt feel so comfortable around that mountain tiger.
As he turned back in, he was indeed suprised by the beautifull girl in her night gown. He remembered her name as..Nwhagen. He decided to find out more about her, so he headed towards her table near the window. He nodded and smiled at Grondy who was nearby and then said to Nwhagen "Greetings there. I dont remember if i introduced myself properly, name's Etharion. If i may...take my cloak, sitting here near a open window so scantily dressed, you might catch something. May i?" he asked with a smile offering his dark blue cloak. "Its clean, except for a few smudges around the bottom line."
Upon seeing the beautiful young woman come down and take a seat, Fionwë was about to go over to her table when he saw that Etharion had beat him. So instead, he asked Amarië, "Do you know what happened to Alanon? I haven't seen him in awhile. Same with Cloveress, or is she still hiding from Grondy? I've come up with a protection against every kind of poison that she could throw at me."
Watching the little flames licking about the logs, he made it burst into a roaring fire, warming up the room suddenly.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to make the room so hot."
He took off his dark cloak and laid it aside, revealing his raiment and armor. As the sunlight shone through the open window, it was caught in his elven brooch cunningly wrought of diamond in the shape of a leaf, fastened at the neck of his warrior's robe. Beneath the robe, his mithril breastplate gleamed in the sunshine.
"Ah, that's better," he said.
Nwhagen, why are we calling her a young women if she's some two-thousand years old?
A snort sounded somewhere above Fionwe's shoulder. "Me? The trickster and grand Cloveress?Gone?" The Cloveress appeared seemingly out of thin air. "Here, have some wine first, my friends." She filled their cups with wine and dived into her own glass, as usual. "So, you've missed me, at least," she licked her finger and grinned. "Great wine, this... But what have you all been doing while I was away on business? " She touched the tips of her wings together and made the wine glow with fairy light.
Quote:That is quite young for a elf. In LOTR Arwen is 3000++ years old, her twin brohters are some 200 years older.
Nwhagen, why are we calling her a young women if she's some two-thousand years old?
"Oh I don't mind a bit of heat." Amarië opened her coat and let it fall down on the back of her chair. She wore a dark green dress, a bronwnish grey wing-of-fell-beast leather west and paddings om her arms from the same quite rare material. Elegant casual and practical. Curled around her waist, up her back and with it's head haging over her shoulder were the red, slender dragon (from page 22). He woke from his sleep and glared accusingly at Amarië before he went back to sleep.
Amarië took a sip of her wine. "And about Alanon, don't know where he went, wasn't there talk about a sorceress? Mmm, great wine indeed, my fluttery friend! Thank you!" Drinking faerie wine could be risky, but the taste usually made it a risk worth taking. She smiled to herself as she watched the two 'fight'.
The Cloveress winked. "Don't be afraid of the wine, Ama, it's perfectly safe, and the magical touches are purely for taste. No side-effects." She dipped her finger in the wine and savoured it again. "I must say I'm getting better at wine-cleansing."
Alanon slides into the shadows as everyone minds their own business wrapping his cloak tight and slipping out the next time a patron comes in so that he is not seen and that no questions are asked.
Alanon doesn't slip away unoticedthough. However, seeing that he wishes to get out quietly, Fionwë doesn't stop him, instead replying "Oh, I don't mind the heat either. It's more from the weight of the cloak that I took it off. He's a cute little guy, your dragon." Fionwë was about to take a sip of the wine when he hesitated, staring hard at Cloveress, watching her expression as he held the glass up to his lips. Satisfied that nothing was up, he drank the contents, finding it excellent. "That's some of the best wine I've ever tasted Cloveress."
The Cloveress shrugged at Fionwe. That guy was growing too suspicious. She wondered if she should act a bit hurt, just to get close enough to him to splatter some baneberry juice onto his face.
Fionwë took a sip of the wine. Shaking his head slowly, he spoke, "Cloveress, I'm disappointed. What happened to trying to poison me?"
A faint smile hovered about his face as he drank some more.
"Or have you decided to quit before you began?" The smile broadened, lighting up his face as he watched her...
Out of character
- Common!! Where is everybody?? The Inn has been awfully quiet these past few days....
Amarië smiled at the two "arguing". If they had any sense, she thought, they'd team up.
"Such impatience, Fionwë my friend. Enjoy the wine and relax. Besides, Grondy really frowns upon people getting murdered in the Inn. I do hope miss Clover settles for giving you donkey ears or something. Much more amusing for the rest of us."
"Yes, I think I have an unstated agreement with Cloveress that she will only use non-lethal
substances in her concoctions; else I'd be forced to issue fly-swatters in lieu of butterfly nets when she's ticked-off my customers. Her poisons might make you sick for a couple minutes, but she always has the antidote available to keep things from getting out of hand.
Meanwhile I've made some vegetarian lasagna using lots of fresh spinach, carrots, and onions along with the pasta and multiple cheeses. It goes quite well with the Bar-B-Qued Worg Ribs and a tankard of Gimli's Finest. Any takers?"
"Hmm...i dont like spinach. Reminds me of the Dead Marshes...but ill have some of those ribs and potatoes!" Etharion said with a smile. "Come everyone, dig in!!" and with that he tucked his napkin in and waited for Grondy to bring the grub.
'GRUB!, you call my fine culinary cuisine after some insects larvae? Well, I suppose we are rather provincial, so you may call it "grub" as long as you eat it,' Grondy says with a grin. He places a plate full of Bar-B-Qed Warg Ribs and chips before Etharion and refills his tankard.
O.C.C. Dang...it seems people forget about this thread. Too bad... its so boring when you have to wait so long for someone to continue a conversation...
Meanwhile Grondy, having polished all the glassware for the umpteenth time, has cleaned the kitchen, guest rooms, and restrooms, as well as changing the rushes on the bar room floor sweeping off the front porch, and restocking the bar and pantry, all the while humming:
"Where have all my customers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all my customers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all my customers gone?
Mothers have grounded them every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?"
OOC: My apologies to Pete Seeger.
Heh... Etharion really feels like the only "regular" here. "Im begging to feel like the old man. You know who i mean. In every bar you always have at least one older man who looks a bit dishrivelled, always sits in the corner, and acctually always seems to be there!! Well that's how im beggining to feel...except im not old and scruffy, im a young good looking lad."
he says laughingly. Then seeing only Grondy was there, he sat down again with a sigh...
Hehe, I usually imagine the inn being 'paused' when noone is talking. I've been and am quite busy these days so I think Ama has gone to one of her sales trips... Sorry..
I've been extremely hardpressed in getting here. My mom has become suspicious and I'm only able to get on now because she's sleeping. She'd flip if she knew I was talking to people online.
"I think I'll try some of that vegetarian lasagna, Grondy. Sounds good," spoke Fionwë, coming down the stairs. He took a seat and looked around, his keen eyes noting everything.
"Where has everyone gone to," he asked aloud, more to himself than another.
"At your service," said Grondy placing a plate of steaming Veggie Lasagne before Fionwë, "I'll be back with some garlic bread in a minute; and would you like some wine or ale and maybe a salad with this?"
The Cloveress sniffed at Grondy's beard after she had finished tinkling with Fionwe's cup (you're unharmed, btw). "Poison indeed!" she wiped her tiny nose. All I would need is one hair of your dirty beard Grondy! is it true that Dwarves never wash their beards?"
"I had to laugh that you fell for that old wive's tale Cloveress. Everyone knows we Dwarves always come out of our tunnels and mines on Durin's Day. We do this so we can recalibrate our sundials so that they will tell the correct time during the remainder of the new year, which for Dwarven-kind always starts on Durin's Day. Anyway, if it happens to be raining on that day, our beards get washed."
"I'll take some wine with this, Grondy. Red wine if you have it," he said, taking a bite. "Well, my sincere apologies Cloveress, I just naturally assumed that you might be trying to poison me."
(Thanks Etharion for clearing that up for me.)
"Here's a glass of our Red House Fionwë, and the garlic bread. Enjoy!"
"Oh, I see," said the Cloveress, a little disappointed. "Mind sharing some of that garlic bread with me, Fionwe?" She smiled sweetly, "You'll be fully forgiven."
Ice slowly opened her dark icy eyes; she was back lying in front of the inn, by Selen, looking a bit scruffed and with a few new battle scars, including one long gash along her right forearm; she ignored it and stood slowly. Wincing as she stretched, Icefangs glanced down at her hands, and noticed a few blisters as well; she didn't realize that what happened in her dreams had happened to her real life body.
She sighed and glanced back at her cat. It seemed as though the poor thing had grown bigger since she was last...awake. Ice knelt near the kitten's head, which was now about the size of her torso, and whispered, "Come on Selen-babe; wake up for me; you need to eat sweetheart" she added in that cute little baby-voice. The cat twitched its ears then sat up; its sitting height was about Ice's full height. Selen nuzzled her chest and then seemed to nod; she then dashed off into the surrounding forests, white and blue fur looking rather dingy as well.
Ice yawned and glanced around, she noticed that her sword and its sheath were on the ground at her feet; how they got there, she'd had no idea. Shrugging it off, Ice slid the sheath's straps back over her shoulders and walked over to the door of the inn, wincing again as she realized she must have also sprained one of her ankles. Shaking her head and smiling grimly to herself, Ice opened the door and trudged inside. She head straight towards the bar and sat down at her favorite spot.
After a minute of silence, she turned around on the stool and waved to all those still in the inn, and began to say something, which came out hoarse and inaudible at first, but she then cleared her throat and tried again, "How's it goin' everyone?"
I'm back fer a lil while, sorry I was gone so long guys; I missed you all very much, ^_^
"What can i get you Icey, besides a hot bath and some salve. You want someone to help you with bandaging that arm, besides looking painful, you can only do so much bandaging with your teeth and one arm? Room 7 is available if you'd like to freshen up first; else I just tapped a new keg of Gimli's Finest and it has again maintained the high standard we have come to expect."
Icey grins and waves off the room. "I'll go up there in a bit, first I would like a tankard of that ale, if you don't mind. And dear friend, it's wonderful to be back. How've things been doing around the inn lately? I know it seems I was just outside, but there's a much longer story behind it, so share the latest news, friend," she said, smiling again and glancing at her arm. "Its yet to be properly tended, so a few more minutes won't hurt, " she added, while a minute shadow passed over her eyes as they fell over the gash; it was gone instantly, her icy eyes filled with a happy light once more.
"Here you go Icey, one tankard of Gimli's finest; business has been slow lately, but we have had a few new people come through this summer. We had one fellow in here lately; he was packing a big sword on his back; and he kept talking to it and I think it may have talked back to him. I've always subscribed to the theory that if you can't tell where something's brains are kept, you had best leave it alone; especially when it applies to swords. I don't ever remember hearing of a talking sword that didn't have some malicious trait. Still we shouldn't be judgmental about something we know nothing about, without seeing it from the other person's shoes. How's the ale and do you want a snack or a meal?"
Etharion finnaly noticed Ice at the bar, so he went over to say hello. Avoiding the LARGE number of guests he got to the bar, and quickly noticed the wounds on Ice. "Ice? Have you been on a adventure without me?" he asked grinning. But then he turned serious again. "No really, where did you get those cuts? Some of them dont look so shallow. Come on..ill help you wrap them up. Grondy! Are there any free rooms with a basin of water? And i should probably take a bottle of your strong scotch'es to desinfect the wounds.."
P.S. Grondy that
if you can't tell where something's brains are kept, you had best leave it alone
part, did that come from Harry Potter?
Cause i remember the very same thing said by mister Weasley, Ron's dad. I belive he was talking about Voldermorts diary.. Lord i must sound like such a dweeb right now!
Its been so long since i last read the book, and i still remember the details.
(OOC: Yes Etharion, that is where the idea for that quote came from; and in the computer game 'Hoards of the Underdark', an expansion pack for 'Neverwinter Nights', there is a sentient sword you can use that will sap your vitality unless you command it not to. Once you do though, it makes a wonderful weapon. It says it used to be a mage whose spirit got trapped in the sword.
Aye i remember the sword, i found it in a tomb in Undermountain. Its ability did come in handy against Mephistopheles in the final battle.. but what killed him was a single Finger of Death spell. I was a 27 level mage (mage's rule!! ), and it was..pretty tough in that final battle..i had to load a million times to get it right,and without that lucky fluke (cause he rolled a critical miss 1 on his fortitude against my spell) i dont know how i would have killed him!! He's resistant to my strongest weapons (the sword and a +10 true strike,..bla bla heavy crossbow) and my strongest spells! So what class was your character Grondy?
"I'll gladly share some with you, Cloveress," he said, trying to hide the mischevious twinkle in his eyes. Looking over as the door opened, he noticed Icy come in, wounded and scarred. He started looking around in his satchel, not finding a herb he was looking for, he emptied the satchel on the table. A pile of herbs fell out. Shifting them around, he finally found what he was looking for, an old dried herb that had a faint but sweet scent around it. He got up from the table and walked over to Etharion and Icy, his long strides clearing it in a few steps. "Etharion, do you know how to use the herb athelas? Here, use it for her wounds. Normally I don't give it out as it's become scarce these days, but as I don't plan on going on any campaigns soon, I'll give it to you." He turned and walked back to the table before they could thank him, an idea forming in his head...
Ice looked at Eth and smiled, asking, "Hi, how ya been?" after taking a sip of her ale. "Wonderful ale, Grondy, what year is it, might I ask?" she added, glancing back at the dwarf behind the bar, while Etharion led the way to an empty room. As she hadn't been the chance to thank Fionwe, Ice just shrugged. Glancing across the floor of the inn, Ice jumped slightly as she realized that this entire time, she hadn't had her bag with her, it was against the wall, slightly dusty near a table by the window.
She dashed over and picked up, blew some dust off and put it on. "Now I feel better," she said softly and walked back the stairs to the rooms.
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" Aye, i do know how to use it Fionwe. Thank you for the gift, ill put it to good use at once." he said with a smile. Turning back to Ice, Etharion asks her as he begins to clean a wound "So Ice, where were you to get such nasty scratches?"