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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] >>
Aethar promptly leaves and Grondy faintly hears him say something about getting the milk glass back.

OOC: I'm going to create a RP to recover the milk glass; anyone who wishes may join the quest.
Thorin after several months of absence, entered the inn one rainy day. Remvoing his wet raincoat, he took a seat by the warm fire and called out to grondy;

"Hello Grondy can I have a beer please and some snacks as well?"

"I wonder where the others are, it looks empty here," he added looking around.
'Most certainly, dear old Thorin, here's a tankard and a combo plate of our Spicy Hot Balrog Wings, Deep Fried Watcher Rings, and Bar-B-Cued Warg Ribs.

It seems most of my regular customers have been called away or are going about their business someplace else this Spring. So what have you been up to during your long absence?'
'Thanks for the food. Well during my absence i was preparing myself for my HSC exams which fortunately i passed. So now that i'm here i'll enjoy my stay.

How much for the food grondy?'
Just put what you think it is worth in the box Thorin; we operate under the honor system here. Glad to hear you passed your exam; should make the future brighter for you.
"Let's hope that's true"

**puts some coins in the box**
The noise of hooves sounded outside the Inn, and then the neighing of a horse. It was a few moments before the rider who occasioned those sounds made his appearance in the door.
"Mae govannen," said the new arrival, Fionw. "How fares the Inn these days, Grondy? And could I get something to cure a parched throat, dusty from the road?"
"Most certainly Fionw," said Grondy as he drew a tankard of Gimli's Finest. He passed it over to the new arrival and asked, "Would you care for a meal or something to snack upon, or will this do it? And what have you been up to while you've been away?"
"Mae Govanen Fionwe"

"Please don't mind my elvish, i never was good at it"

"But it's been a long time since we last met. What have you been up to?"

"And, please Grondy, a beer for me too"
Okay Thorin, here's your beer. Enjoy! And here also is a large bowl of freshly popped and buttered, popcorn; but it is un-salted, so you can add salt to suit your taste. I have to watch my sodium iintake in order to keep my blood pressure under control. I shouldn't have the butter either, but popcorn really needs both. So I compromise by using salted butter, but refrain from using the salt shaker near it.
Morning All! I heared that there are some fine educated people here who could notify me as to the whereabouts of Aeglos! Have I heared true?
A Dark forgotten form stirred in the blackest corner... (He was hiding of cource)
"Aeglos you say?" He said
"Mean you the spear of Gil-Galad or the sweet flower?" He asked
Turning to Grondy
"Would you fill my cup and bring me candle master?"
"Certainly Arath," said Grondy trying to fill Arath's cup in the dark, "What size candle would you require? A tiny one for a birthday cake, or a huge one to light up a lighthouse mirror, or something in between?"

"I seem to remember seeing an old elven-made spear Ereinion, in one of the chests located in one of the storerooms you can get to via the disused dungeon near the end of one of the tunnels whose entrances are in one of the sub-cellars of the Inn.

Of course I can't guarantee it is the one your looking for, but you're welcome to look for it. If you do, I'd suggest taking a couple others along with you to watch your back; for there is an infestation of slimes in those tunnels, and other creepy crawlers and denizens of the deep beyond. I'd like to go with you, but my body won't let me; this old Dwarf has been on too many quests and his adventuring days a over. But I'd love to hear the tale if you survive."

OOC: If you want to take up this quest, do it in one of the other RPG threads in this section. Sorry, I haven't the time or inclination to DM it, though it might be fun.
Ar-edain was twiddling his thumbs in the corner, and he had become adamantly convinced that this practice had become much more difficult since his thumbs had become disconnected from the hands proper.
"Uh..." he began, though pausing for a moment to decide if the request was really what he wanted," If there are any enchanters, wizards, or magicians in the room, any aid you could render would certainly illicit a heartfelt thanks." While speaking, he failed to lift up his thumbs, the reason for which is obvious, for display, so he waved the remaining parts of his hands toward the displaced appendages.
Suddenly appearing alarmed, he quickly added," Please, no Necromancy, though. I'm not comfortable with the idea of having zombie opposables with their own, undead agendas."
Many thanks, Grondy. I will check it out, but I already feel misgivings. Any dwarf would recognise such a weapon as this to be what it was. Thank you for the help. Did you require a poem for your service or shall I content myself with making use of your lovely stools?
Thorin who had fallen asleep woke up hearing Grondy's speech.

"No Ar Edain, unfortunately we have no wizards here, only a couple of elvish and Dwarvish warriors."

"And Erernion you should sing a song or a poem as is the custom here. Doing so will earn you a pint of Gimli's Finest(R) if i remember correctly."

"Anyway its a custom here."
'Aye that it is, iffen you want a drink. And I also then provide a complementry plate of munchies, (to ensure the customer buys another drink or two,') Grondy added in a whisper to those nearby.
Ereinion walks up to the front of the pub, dragging his feet, as he has aquired severe stage fright since he was knocked about by Sauron.

"My name is Ereinion Gil-galad. This is an dwarvish poem that I believe you gentlemen would appreciate, especially our good dwarvish friends." he began. "get yourselves comfortable, as this is not the shortest of poems."

"Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our 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, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over 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 carved there for themselves,
And harps of gold, where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was 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.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

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

Far over the Misty Mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

The wind was on the withered heath,
But in the forest stirred no leaf:
There shadows lay be night or day,
And dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold,
And like a tide it roared and rolled.
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East;
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh across the marsh,
Its whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
The reeds were rattlingon it went.
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,
Where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,
And swept above the dragon's lair:
There black and dark lay boulders stark,
And flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sale upon the gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.

Under the Mountain dark and tall,
The King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes shall fall!

The sword is sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong.
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.

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.

On silver necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.

The mountain throne once more is freed!
O! Wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of friend and kin has need.

Now call we over the mountains cold,
'Come back unto the caverns old!'
Here at the gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with gems and gold.

The king has come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall.
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foes shall fall!

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away, ere break of day
Far over the wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell.
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!"
"Ah Ereinion, that brings tears to the eyes of this old dwarf. I thank ye kindly, I never met King Thorin Okenshield, nor any in his company, but I did know a few of their grandkids, nicest bunch of gentle dwarves you'd ever want to meet, but I degress." And wiping away a tear, Grondy draws a tankard of Gimli's FinestAle and gathers a combo plate for Erinion.

"Here you go sir," as he sets the tankard and plate before the singer, "your complimentary tankard of libation and our combo plate of Bar-B-Qed Warg Ribs, Deep Fried Watcher Rings, and Hot 'N Spicy Balrog Wings. Any of the three can be ordered on its own, if you decide you like one more'n another. Anyway, enjoy."
Gil-galad takes the plate gratefully, and starts on his dinner (the butterflies somewhat subsided by now). Some time later (after many gulps and crunches) he pushes his plate forward and breathes a sigh of satisfaction.
"Well," he begins, "If I had've known that dwarvenkind could cook such a meal or brew such an ale, I would've thought friendlier of your forefathers. We can leave that debt to rest now, though. If I only had Aeglos still, I could bring you the fresh ingredients for the Bar-B-Qed Warg Ribs, Deep Fried Watcher Rings, and Hot 'N Spicy Balrog Wings. Be sure I'll come here when I'm next in town. Goodnight All!"
At this, Gil-galad stands up and staggers to the door.
I thank ye for yer kind compliments Gil-galad. Come again anytime; the door is always open. And next time ye won't be required to sing for yer supper, unless that's yer want.
Ar-edain stands up at his table near the back and says rather loudly," I understand that all of you are living full and eventful lives, but I my thumbs are still unfunctional. Also, they're beginning to change color. A little assistance would be much appreciated and completely unrewarded." He looks around, sees that he is being ignored, and then sits back down irritably, muttering to himself about selfishness and brain parasites.
Thorin who was at the bar turned around,

"What help do you need mate?"
Grondy brought out a needle and thread to re-attach the errant thumbs, and also his mighty double bladed war axe, 'Dicer' to remove them. He added a keg of 186 proof firewater so that he wouldn't, nor would any of the other participants, feel any pain during the operation.
Keonvan maneuvers his stallion into a stop around the side of the inn. Keonvan dismisses his horse from duty with a smack to the rear end and walks to the front door of the inn and enters. seeing a minor surgery about to take place he decides not to make a disturbance and takes a seat at the closest table.
'Lay your left hand flat out on the table, palm down Ar-Edain, and hold it very still. No, it is still shaking. Hold it still!

Okay, maybe we better postpone this until morning when we have all sobered up a bit. I wouldn't want to do anything rash and you might want to get a second opinion prior to the actual cutting. And like the feller said, thumbs, like money, don't grow on trees; and you're only allotted the natural compliment of two, one per each hand.'
"No!" Ar-edain's eyes are bloodshot and there are several veins trying obtain freedom from his neck and forehead,"Sew them back, now!" He suddenly calms down a little and adds,"Err...Please."

(Hey Keonvan, do you recognize my avatar?)
standing up Keonvan heaves off his heavy cloak and wraps it around the back of the humble looking chair. he stretches and emits a large sigh, then with a crack of his neck he unties a glimmering silvery swordfrom his waist. witch he set on the table prior to sitting down once again.

oh no what have i done?! the look on your face is a memory i will treasure forever. Papa? This day is fantastic!
Grondy dips the cut end of each thumb into a pot of sickly green goop, and proceeds to sew them back on, each to the correct hand, and each facing the correct direction to ensure Ar-Edain will again be able to lift a tankard of Gimli's Finest. After the second one is attached , he wraps them in gauze, which he covers with linen and paints with a quick hardening substance. "Now don't touch anything for at least an hour and don't try to hold anything until tomorrow afternoon, or I can't guarantee the results."

"When you get thirsty Ar-Edain, I've got a straw that I'll put your name on; then you can drink through it from a mug which I'll place on a table when you want. Just give me a yell when your ready"

"And we can unwrap your thumbs after two days and they should be as good as new, if the expiration date of the green goop hasn't been passed. I bought it off an itinerant Elf who was passing through a couple months ago; he purchased it from a nice old lady who lived on an island in a marsh southeast of a city where he said his sister ran a bakery."

"Now that that's under control, Keonvan if you want a drink, you'll have to sing us a song or recite a poem for it. Read the sign over the bar (in the first post of this thread) for the particulars."

OOC: Keonvan please read Grep's note above each input box. This forum doesn't automatically close tagends; you have to do it yourself, else they mess up what follows. Thanks. Happy Elf Smilie
"Aye good sir. ill sing ye a song." Keonvan stood up with the gusto and flare of an experienced entertainer,also a grimace at the smell of what ever was applied to the appendages of the weird man and began...

Alas i come to be at last
from places abroad and of far
very blessed my eyes are to cast
warm greetings in your humble bar

the grub smells great
tho I've already ate
so till mourn ill be sober till mourn
so till mourn ill be sober till mourn

Many a night I've spent on my steed
hoping for rest and for PIE
but I'm openly disgusted by your medical deed
but i feel the urge now to lie

the grub smells great
tho I've already ate
so till mourn ill be sober till mourn
so till mourn ill be sober till mourn

Keonvan finished with a bow and a wave of his hand.

thanks for the info grondmaster Juggling Smilie
"Great song Keonvan, and here's your tankard and complimentary combo plate of our Spicy Hot Balrog Wings, Deep Fried Watcher Rings, and Bar-B-Cued Warg Ribs. Enjoy!"

"So how do your thumbs feel Ar-Edain? Any pain, or only when you laugh? And tell me again how they got so out of whack? Did you get them caught in your suspenders trying to show you were a big man, or was it something else, like someone stepped on them when you were going home the other night? Or is that a topic you'd rather not discuss?"
"Well, after all it seems that men are not as solid as they seem to be," muttered Thorin.
OOC: Whew! I was away a lot longer than I meant to be!

"Things have been good on my travels," Fionwe said. "They took me beyond the Blue Mountains, and in them. Do you know how many old forgotten passages there are in the Blue Mountains, made by the Naugrim when the world dark, and Morgoth still chained in Valinor? I only journeyed in a few of them compared to the immense number that probably exist."
Fionw paused to listen to the newcomers' songs, then clapped his hands.
"Well sung and welcome, mellonnin."
He stood up and walked over to Ar-Edain, and looked at his thumbs.
"No magic have I to fix such a thing, but I think that I can help you if you don't mind a little pain in the process," he said to Ar-Edain.
From his seat in the corner Thorin sipped his beer watching with interest what Fionwe was proposing to do for Ar-Edain.

"Hey Grondy why don't we organise a party in the near future? It could bring back our lost customers. What do you think?"
"Well, you could make a post under General Discussion saying something like:
Quote:
FREE BEER IN THE KHAZAD-DUMISH INN
This week only.

That used to draw them in like flies," said Grondy with a rather large grin.

Assuming that silence means consent, Fionw prepared to fix Ar-Edain's thumbs. He grabbed his left hand, and laid it flat on the table, then placed his own hand on it and held it down.
"Now, please keep your hand still, Ar-Edain, or I can't account for what might happen to it," Fionw said with a small grin starting to show on the corners of his mouth. "Grondy, you might want to get something for Ar-Edain to ease the pain. He is going to need it."
Fionw bent the thumb up into the correct position, yanked hard, and slammed it back into the socket. He then prepared to perform the same treatment on the other hand...
What have you done Fionw, I removed and sewed his thumbs back on a couple days ago and they are just now out of their wrappers. Are you saying my seamstressing left something to be desired? And he fetched three strong drinks of firewater to ease everyone's pain.
Thorin watched on the scene from his seat at the bar laughing silently as the dwarf and elf struggled to patch Ar-Edain's hand.....
"Oh dear, I didn't see you do that. I only heard that he had a problem with his thumbs. Maybe I should have looked at them before doing what I just did," Fionw replied, looking rather embarrassed and eager to get away before Ar-Edain realized how much pain the treatment was going to cause.
Grond poured another glass of firewater; added a two drops from a vial marked "short term memory loss"; and set it before Ar-Edain. 'Have him drink this when he wakes up and that part of the pain problem will very soon be forgotten.'
Outside of the Inn Sian, an older lady-Hobbit, peers out of the trees and then steps out into the clearing, walking with a stick. She wears a long dark green dress with a linen shirt underneath and a clean but worn apron with several pockets. Her cloak is a rich moss green and is caught up with a silver oak-leaf clasp but the cloak also has seen better days and has several neat patches. Her hair is long and dark, streaked with grey at the temples, and a bit damp and wispy. She carries a canvas traveling bag that is slung over one shoulder and hangs down nearly to her knees.

A magnificent horse is cropping grass near the Inn's further wall and she makes her way to it speaking softly. He raises his head, munching, and looks at her but doesn't move away. His reins are trailing: where are those stable boys? Why is this fellow left to hurt himself or break his master's fine harness? Sian props her stick against the stones, catches the horse's reins and leads the gentle beast into the stable and puts him in the nearest empty box. She removes the bridle and hangs it on the door but the saddle is too heavy. I hope he doesn't roll on it..and he really needs a rub-down and some hay.

Walking cautiously, she collects her stick then stops at the door of the Inn and listens to the hum of voices from within. She looks inside carefully and sees the patrons in pleasant conversation, the Innkeeper is serving something that smells delicious and the large mugs of ale remind her of how thirsty she is. Then she notices the sign above the bar and decides to sit outside for awhile. What song should I sing? I know quite a few.. I wonder if the horse's owner will mind if I tell him his horse needs attention. The Innkeeper might be a bit harsh with those missing stable boys... There is a stone bench not far from the door and she sits to think and catch her breath.
Grondy comes out of the kitchen with a stack of spoons and bowls and a big piping hot pot of split pea soup. 'This'll warm the cockles of your hearts now that are Summer is over, especally if you chase it with a tankard of Gimli's FinestAle. I'll be bringing out a platter of buttered toast to go with it on my return trip to the kitchen; I'd a brought it out this trip, but what with the buttered side of toast always landing on the floor, I didn't figure I'd best take the chance.' And he set it all on the bar. 'Help your self to the soup if you want, or you can wait for the toast and then I'll refill your tankards.'
Thorin, seeing that things were rather quiet and that everybody was looking bored jumped on to the stage, lifted his Gimli's Finest(Tm) and stated to sing a song aloud:

Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may wall and wind may blow,
And many miles be still to go
But under a tall tree I will lie
And let the clouds go sailing by.


With that he drunk his last drop of ale.
' It's been a while since I've heard that song, Thanks Thorin, and if you want a refill, hand me your empty tankard.'
Thorin obviously an avid fan of Gimli's Finest(TM) handed his cup over to grondy.

"By the way grondy I was thinking of organising another singing competition at the Khazad-Dummish Inn. Do you think you could provide the winner with a barrel of Gimli's Finest(TM) if we go ahead?"
I don't know Thorin, the way we have been drinking through my cellar it might short us later on. Now if you want to make a trip over to farmer Maggots to pick up some barley, rice, and hops, I could brew up another batch to make up for the shortage caused by the contest. You up to it?
"Absolutely my dear Grondy. I'll go visit him at once. I'll be back in a couple of hours"

With that Thorin said goodbye to all those present and went to Visit farmer Maggot. Arriving at the farm he called out to the farmer, taking care to remain behind the gate, as he wasn't very friendly with the Farmer's dog. Explaining about the shortage at the Khazad Dumish inn he asked if he could have some barley to brew Gimli's Finest(TM). Fortunately the farmer was also a fan of Gimli's finest(TM) and thus agreed to sent a cart full of Barley, rice and hops. Thanking the Farmer Thorin made his way back to the Inn."

"Hey, Grondy I'm back. I got the ingredients outside. Just tell me where you want them to be kept and I'll put it there. Then I'll go and find a way to advertise our singing competition. Once I'm back I'll help you to re-decorate the place all over."
Sian was still outside the Inn on the bench and watched the Dwarf go and return with the cart. It was getting colder now so she stood and decided she had better go inside. Gathering her stick and bag she stepped over the threshold and said timidly, "Greetings to all here!" Going up to the Dwarf with the apron on behind the bar she said, " Might I find shelter for a night here?"
Still at the same table he had sat at days ago Keonvan stood up. the days spent in that chair had made him stiff thus every bone in his legs popped intensely."Grondy, my good sir dwarf. might i have a room for the night?" without waiting for a reply Keonvan placed five golden coins with odd runes on the table. he then stretched and sprinted to the nearest open room slammed the door and locked it."Good night!" he yelled.
"Hey Grondy the Dwarven Guild has decided to sponsor a party after the competition. I'll be going over to fetch another load of barley, hops, and rice for the beer as well as a supply of ingredients for snacks!"

After saying this Thorin leaves for the Dwarven Guild office of the shire to fetch the suppliers. A few hours later he returns with 2 carts full of ingredients which he leaves at the kitchen. He then re-enters the Inn.

"I'm back Grondy. Could you please tell me where the ladder is as I wish to change those tapestry on the wall and replace them with new one's. That is of you agree of course!"
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