Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.
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She nods. "I did not say I wanted a splitting headache, Loni, I was asking how to rid myself of one, while still staying conscious..." she says. Taking a sip of Etharion's wine, she smiles at him. "You were worried about little ole me, how sweet..." she says, grinning. She scoots her a little closer to him.
"I say, Icy, something just crawled out of your drink...is that good.?" Turns back to the bar, "Another round for the house on me, Grondy, and break out that bottle of old Firerum I see on the shelf over there."
"Okay this rounds on Stoney folks!"
"And Stoney, you may want to go easy on this Orcan Firerum ®, sometimes the steam doesn't stop coming out of the ears for a day or two after drinking just one shot of it."
"Anyone want to try one of these thin sliced Dragon-wing sammidges? I made 'em with swish cheeze on punkernibble and added my secret hot sauce that overrides the dragon meat's gaminess."
at the sound of the talk of Dragon Meat Sammidges, Star lifts her head, takes a long sniff of the air, and says, " can I have mine on Rye? please, extra cheese and hold the mustard.."
oh and a side order of fries, large coke and a cheesecake
Hey, Grondy, long time no see...
"Warning taken O Master of the Grond!"
"Here Star, have a tot of this Rum, it is a good year, a proper 1420, as they say."
Ice stared as a large, wriggling thing scrambled out of her mug. She slowly shook her head in response to Stoney's question, and watched as the thing crawled across the bartop and and was promptly smashed by fragments of Loni the dwarf's exploding fingernails.
"What exactly was that, Grondy? If you don't know, that's fine by me, I'm not sure I want to... Oh, what, by the way, goes into the Orc Firerum, so I know its safe for me, I don't want any wolfsbane, it'd prolly kill me..."
...oh!!!!!!!! to go with the coke :
downs Rum and Coke and waits for cheesecake to arrive...
ohh..it is toooo long since I sat in this bar and exchanged chitchat with the regulars.
orders an elven chardonay...mellow, a hint of oak, and tinge of lemon.
munches on dragon Wing smammidge...(bit chewy...for one as old as I whose teeth are failin' :
Now then Ms. Star, as to that cheesecake, we's gots your cherry, your razzleberry, your gooseberry, and for the discerning gourmond, your slug-goo. Anything there that meets your fancy?
Oh! and Ms. Frosty-toofs: According to the label on the Firerum carboy, which also states: WARNING This beverage is harmful to all forms of flora, fauna, and nocturnal entities, the list of ingredients makes no mention of wolfsbane.
"I'm sure she's gine, but how about something that'll stop my fingernails exploding, Blondy?" asked the dwarf. (Drunk again, stole some wine from a passerby) "I know! The toxic waste caused it, the toxic waste will stop it! Giz some, Bl...Gr.....St....SCrondy! That's it! And it's on SToney, remember?"
"Harmful to fauna? Aren't wolves fauna, or nocturnal? Somebody answer my question, before I decide I shouldn't get drunk again..."
"Well i still think you shouldnt drink it Ice." said Etharion. " Its probably harmfull even more to you than us."
She nods and sips her own plain mug of ale.
mmm razzleberry...sounds delicis mish...
scoffs dragon wing sandwidge as fast as politely possible and tries hard not to pound spoon on the bar in anticipation of cheesecake desset
yo ho ho and a tankard of RUMMMMMMMMM....(Star tends to get intoximicated VERRRy easily )
crosses pingers and tries to behave
Here's your razzleberry cheesecake Star, and a strong cup of black coffee to let you better appreciate it.
I suggest you try wearing these cast iron gloves Loni, and I think if you drink this branch water and turn-in for the night you should be back to normal—whatever that is—by morning.
ar-37 is taking shots of scotch at the back table.he sees a warg out side and runs out.he slays it and comes back in.NOW I HAVE GOOD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS!,he yells upon re-entry.
"No, it's BAD luck to slay a warg while drunk on scotch. In fact I don't think that is a warg, it looks more like someone's house cat."
Looks over to Grondy
"Anyone around these parts own a cat?"
Ice sits quietly, sipping her mug of ale, and watches Ar-37's antics with a smile on her face.
I thought that was another of Ms. Halo_black's pet cockroaches, what was out for a walkabout before the sun comes up. Though it could be one of those panthers that used to layabout with Val. If it is either the former or the latter, I would worry more about the hunter than the prey, for they can take care of themselves, while Ar-37 looks a tad bit tippsy to me.
"Tad bit tipsy? He is laying on the floor chewing on the floorboards while he sings Ode to Dishwater! I think that exceeds tipsy and enters into the realm of stone drunk."
Okay folks, here's a fresh batch of crispy Red-Hot Balrog Wings
®; anyone need a drink or refill?
And all you first-timers, please remember to read and heed Gimli's sign in the first post of this thread.
Ice raises her hand. "I would like some of those Balrog Wings, Grondy, and also a mug of Gimli's finest!"
Túrin stumbles into the scene with a pint in each hand. "Dammit get outta my way scene!" He then swaggers around the bar looking for an empty stool... Instead he find more beer and passes out in the corner, his black sword Gurthang resting across his lap; to detour any mischievous hands in his vulnerable state.
after an hour or 4, time flys when intoxicated, Turambar is poked and prodded until he regains consciousness. "Hey you there, didn't you read the sign?"
"ughhh... i don't feel so good...."
"well that's what you get for poisoning yourself, next time cut back on the wobbly pops." lectures the unknown man. "Anyhow the sign said all the new faces must sing a song, I ain't seen you before, and there sure the hell no mistaking you..."
"Sorry guy, didn't see the sign, everything is so blurry.... i'll come back when i get some decent material."
And so Túrin Turambar, stumbles on out the dooryway to fall face first into a mud puddle...
Grondy pops out the door and with the help of the troll, picks Túrin Turambar out of the mud and carries him back into the Inn, where place they tied and hung him on a coatrack which had been placed on the stage. Around Túrin Turambar's neck they hung a placard which stated.
WARNING: This could happen to you if you ignore our sign, so DON"T BE A SCAFLAW!!!
A bucket was placed at the feet of our favorite anti-hero that he might not mess up the stage when his tummy tells his mind that it's time to see the light of day.
'Urp slop, get the mop!'
'Is he's going to stay up there 'til he sings', asked a local bar-fly? 'Yep!' replied Grondy, 'but we'll rig a portable screen when he needs to relieve himself'.
Okay folks, here's a fresh batch of crispy Red-Hot Balrog Wings ®; anyone need a drink or refill?
"RED HOT BALROG WINGS!!!!" yelled the dwarf, who was quiet since her last caper till now. "MY ALLTIME FAVOURITE!!!!! GIZ ONE!!!!!" and she galloped to the bar and downed her glass. The troulbe is, REd Hot Balrog Wings have a very strong effect on dwarves. It makes them REALLY drunk. After just half a glass, in fact. so the dwarf was real drunk, and promptly began to jump on the tables and go "LALALALALALALALALALALALALAAAAAA!!!!" to no apparent tune, and do belly flops onto the floor.
Stoney wonders how Loni managed to drink a crispy Balrog Wing.
"Oi, watch out for Turin sword, Grondy. That blade keeps inching out of its sheath! We don't need it waving about, cutting up patrons."
"I think that Grondy smushed the Balrog Wings for Loni, as she might be so drunk that she'll forget to chew..." she sipped her ale. "I would like some Balrog Wings, too, O' great Master of Gronds!" she said, grinning.
Most dwarves want their liquor to slide smoothly down their throats. Not Loni though, she wants her's to be stinging sharp, to bite all the way down to her toes. Trouble is, she can't hold her liquor and soon becomes 'Chief Crazy Dwarf' after but a single glass of Your Old Man's Rot-Gut. Next thing you'll know, she'll learn to inhale those Red-Hot Balrog Wings®
and we'll end up having to scrape her off the ceiling.
: Drinking just to get drunk ain't smart kids! One or two to be sociable is fine with moderation. And for heaven's sake leave your car keys at home and have a sober tea-totaler designated driver or else call your parents for a ride home. Never ride with someone whose drunk, take their keys so they can't drive. The life you save may be yours or mine.
- Here endeth the sermon.
Pastor Grondy has it right. As for me I can't stand not being in full control of myself. I have no intention of ever drinking such an amount that I would get drunk. I'd rather be myself.
Aside form that I think I've found a dragon wing in your batch of Balrog Wings Grondy,......is that a good thing? Do I get a prize?
Shat-up and eat it Stony, or they'll all want one. (Egads, what does he expect, 'Quality Control' in a dump like this.)
A young woman enters the inn. She surveys the inn, sees that the company looks friendly and thinks that it will be alright to stay the eve. She approaches the inn keeper, a nice-looking chap.
"Excuse me, kind sir. Do you have any need for a wench? I have read Sir Gimli's sign. I can barkeep or serve or clean or I can read palms or sing, sir. I'll be no trouble, sir. I'm very handy. I have been travelling long, sir, and I am in need of shelter for a few days or so. That's all I would ask in exchange for my services. My name is Laurel." She bows to him.
Ice waves to the human woman, and says, "Oi! Grondy, I was wondering what else ya had back there to eat, seeing as I might not get any Balrog Wings; it looks like Loni's eaten them all!" She smiles and, turning towards Stoney, pours some hot sauce in his drink. She turns back and sips her drinks the last of her ale.
The dwarf jumped onto the bar, quite intoxicated after drinking some more stolen beer fromt he customers. She lept over to Grondy, and said "MORE BALROG WIGNS!!!!! MORE BALROG WINGS!!!!!!" and ran into the kitchen. She found no balrog wings, having already exhausted the stocks. But she found some really hot looking chillis, and ate them all whole. Then she came back out, chased by the chef, and promptly began breathing fire.
Laurel sees Loni's escapades and thinks this place feels like home. She says to the inn keeper,"See, you need someone to keep the balrog wings coming. And to help pour the ale! May I?"
Grondy locked Loni in the freezer for a couple hour to cool her off and sober her up. Then he whipped up a couple batches of Deep Fried Orc Knuckles and passed them around.
We also have some Young Asparagus Tips with Hollandaise Sauce Served on a Bed of Lettuce.
Okay Laurel, you can stow your stuff in the backroom off the kitchen where you can make your kip. Then after you can sing your song, you can get your drink and a bite to eat. If you're not too tired you can help the cook tonight or start helping him tomorrow afternoon. You can have your mornings off. If things work out, we can talk about a few coppers per week in addition to room and board.
As Grondy finally let Loni out, she was sobered, but was angry that she was so. "I don't want to be sober!!!!" she said. "i want to be DRUNK!!!!" and rushed over to where the Deep-fried Orc Knuckles were, thinking perhaps she could mash them up and then add water, and get drunk. (Some dwarves are very stupid when it comes to knowing whether things can make you drunk or not). She began to cry, seeing that there were none left. However, her eyes brightened when she saw the Balrog Wings and ale. "BALROG WINGS!!! ALE!!!!" she yelled, and grabbed one of each. She promptly began mashing her balrog wings into her ale, and then put some more ale into her glass so that it overflowed. "YO, LAUREL!!!" she yelled. "THE WINGS ARE GREAT!!! HAVE SOME!!!" and downed her glass. Then she fainted, and everyone was relieved.
Look, I leave for a few measily weeks, and you go and have a party without me. (kicks discarded dwarf on the floor) You even brought in Party Harty Marty, and I wasn't here. (pouts)
"Ow!" said the dwarf, who alas! is one of those dwarves who recover quite quickly from fainting. "CRYSTLE!!!!! CAVES!!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL NAME!!!!!" she screamed. "Have some mashed balrog wings and ale!!!!" and handed her another glass out her pocket (She had obviously made two and kept some for later) "DANCE ON THE TABLES WITH ME, CC!!!" she yelled, nd jumped up on the tables, pulling CC with her.
Outside the sound of a wagon could be heard. The door opened and Amarië made her way towards the bar, stepping over pumpkins and circling around a dwarf here and drunk there and a couple of the sheep that were still around. "Ahhh, it's good to be home!" she declared. She stopped in a respectful distance from Grondys zoo and watched Halo Black with a fascinated look and threw her a Uruk Snack. I need to get me one of those, she's kinda cute!
The people nearby gave her an odd look and mumbled something, but Amarië wasn't listening. She had spotted some new faces and went over to say hello. Grondy went by with a tray of ale, and Amarië stopped him. "I think I scared your stable boy. He screamed like a little hobbit and ran away. I should have told him that I had replaced my horses, but warges really aren't that bad. They are strong and they eat the same as the Hounds of Helsinki anyway..."
The housecat (or warg, if you happen to be inebriated) makes its way to the bar. Narrowly avoiding being stamped on by a nearby dwarf, she leaps up on the bar and wanders down it, weaving between the glasses and occasionaly stopping to take a sip of somebodys drink, or a bite of their meal.
"BUNNY!" Halo squeals at the top of her voice, shattering a few glasses and exploding a few heads. "There you are! And they mistook you for a warg!? How very rude!" Halo picks up the small, black and white house-cat (or Warg, to the very drunk) and ruffles the fur in the top of its head with her chin. Noticeing that the bar has gone silent and everyone is staring in disbelief, she frowns.
"What? I bought her here with me ages ago and everyone knows I don't go home at shutting time! Plus she protects me from teh weasels!"From somewhere in a dark corner a little voice yells "Thats understandable. But why's it called Bunny!"
Laurel waved to the drunk dwarf called Loni. Then she turned to Grondmaster."Thank ye, sir." She bowed again. "Much too kind, sir. Sir, is it always this loud and crazy in here? I like it very much!" Then she went to the back room by the kitchen to unpack her small sack of belongings, then went to the kitchen to help the cook. She might even get to try out her new Roasted Hide of Warg recipe, she thought...
Stoney slyly switches glasses with Icefangs....
"I say, orc knuckels went out of of fashion ten years ago. Could be the fact that no one could eat one with out throwing up. But a good warg steak would be excellent just now."
Stoney turns and bellows towads the kitchen door. "Oi, Laurel! got and good warg steak recipies? I'd give a hundred mithril for a slab of the meat."
hey i just wanted to appologize if i made some posts within the last 12 hours that were completely uneccessary. I was informed i made 3, non-family orientated posts that were truly uncalled, and i was not under "complete control" at that moment.
i hope you people can forgive me for my rudeness, i'll make sure it doesn't happen again, even though like i said.... last night I
had no influence on what i was doing.... it was that damn beer!
p.s. don't worry i'm paying the price for it now, my has this tedious throb in my head, that just won't go away...
Loni the dwarf pricked up her ears at the phrase "Warg steak." She had never tried it before, and was thinking, perhaps if she mixed THAT with ale, perhaps it could get her even more drunk. (Some dwarves have the luckiness to not have hangovers, and Loni is one of them.) "WARG STEAK!" she cried. "WARGSTEAKWARGSTEAKWARGSTEAK!!!! NOW!!!!!" and downed another glass of ale. Now they would HAVE to have Warg Steak.
"No Laurel, it's pretty tame in here tonight. There have been nights in the past when I've had to turn on the firehose and wash them out into the street just so I could hear myself think."
"Okay, "Bunny" steaks coming up! I hope this wasn't one of your's Amarië," he says after he's whacked it one with his axe, splitting its head wide open. "If it was, it should a stayed in the stable instead of flaunting itself afore my customers. Anyone want a batch of Warg Sweetbreds?"
"WARGSTEAKWARGSTEAKWARGSTEAK!!!!" yelled Loni, and quickly began mashing it with her axe and mixing it with ale. however, it did not make her any more drunk. "NOOOOO!!!!!" she screamed. Then it clicked. Orc knuckles and ale didn't work. warg steak and ale didn't work. Balrog wings and ale didn't work. But perhaps Orc knuckles, warg steak, balrog wings AND ale would!!!! "ORCKNUCKLESWARGSTEAKBALROGWINGSALE!!!!" she screamed.
"Roasted Hide of Warg here, I'll bring it around." Laurel went first to the Drunk Dwarf Loni, then to Sir Stonehelm, then to everyone else who wanted any. She then filled up everyone's mug with their drink of choice, turned to Amarie and said,"Don't worry, it's not one of yours, miss." Then, turning to Grondy asked "Now should I sing my song, sir? For you told me sir, that each one here should sing a song, right now?"
Ice drank down the rest of her glass and screamed. "Ahh!!! Hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-HOT!" She ran around the tavern, screaming -HOT!!!!-. She jumped over the bar and put her head under a keg of ale. She tossed some coins to Grondy and turned the nozzle on the keg on, and drank as much as she could without choking on it. After a few minutes, she turned off the keg, threw some more coins to Grondy and staggered around the bar. She went to sit in a chair, and missed, landing flat on her back on the floor. "Mary had a little lamb! It's hooves went -clippy-clop-! Icey saw the little lamb! AND MADE HIM INTO LAMBCHOPS!!!" she screamed into the ceiling at the top of her lungs.
Amarë looked at the dwarf with raised eyebrows. "I have an empty cage in my wagon, Grondy. Let's put her in there for a little while, 200 years or so, til she calms down a bit?" Then she turns to the new girl.
"Anyway! Hi, I am Amarië. I am a trainer of beast and monsters, got a few of them in my wagon outside and the troll by the door is one of mine. Isn't he charming? And I just closed a major deal with some guy named Peter Jackson, he wanted orcs and trolls and a balrog and wargs... I am over the moon! Sorry, just had to tell someone. Please, sing us your song. I would love to hear it!"
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"Umm, Amarie? That troll of yours is trying to chase down the patrons' horses. And I think it is already to late for one. There seems to be a horse shoe hanging out of your troll's mouth."
Turns to Laurel.
"Fine warg you prepared! Reminds me of the old days when I led a raiding party into the Misty Mountains. We gathered enough meat to feed our clan for the whole winter!"