Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.
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"Hardly any elves have been slayed away from battle, but I heard rumours that Gil-Galad had a punch out with Isildur at the Gates of Mandos." Morohtar said to her, amused.
"Who are you?" Morohtar asked, drinking some more wine.
And Fornac, I agree with Loss about the shouting. You should also use speech marks and start a new line and stuff, like you do on the rest of the RPGs you're in.
And Eruheran, you should have known!
Morohtar continued to drink.
He then turned his hooded skull to the unnoticed stranger.
I COULD OF COURSE BE MISTAKEN, BUT I THINK THAT HE IS ONE OF THE NAZG’L, FROM HIS TASTEFUL ATTIRE AND AURA.
"Greetings Loss," Thorin said bringing some bread and a tankard of Gimli's Finest(TM). "Things have been rather chaotic here in the absence of Grondy. I am the stand-in Inn keeper so if you need anything let me know."
"You will know my father. He was also a Nazgul, he died, headed south, rebuilt his kingdom, returned five years later, and died within a few days of his return." Morohtar asked.
"Actually, He didn't die. Death murdered him, and his last words were that I need to wait a few years to take his throne, and some other bloke is going to be King." Morohtar added.
OOC: Neither of you have read Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, have you? My character is Death (read back over the last few pages, Loss, to understand. Death came in a little more than halfway down page 69) and always speaks in capitals to signify his deep, echoing tones of lead. He also never speaks with quotation marks.
And Eruheran, you should have known!
I appreciate your heavy involvement with your character, but this is a Tolkien-Based Inn and not at all connected with Mr. Pratchett's Discworld, so, if you would like to take your character to a new RPG then you are welcome, but please try to keep in line with what the Inn is based on, this is the way it has been since it's beginning back in the day .
Also, I did not want to be the one to point the finger, but your incessant upper case characters are opposing our Rules; No. 8, which is why I asked you casually in the first place .
"Thank you Thorin" said Loss as Gimli's Finest’ was placed before him. "I'm glad that someone has taken over the Inn until it's owner has returned from his holiday, I expect you've enjoyed being on the other side of the counter." To Eruheran and Fornac's assumptions, Loss looked about himself and smiled, "I don't know what you mean, I am just someone who stays to this corner and sleeps then wakes throughout the years to give the extra eye to the Inn for Grondy, but please, do not stop your conversations, besides, my eyes feel heavy again." He sat back and continued with his pipe and drank his Gimli's Finest’ quite happily.
"I forgot you wrecked my old one." Morohtar muttered, before having a mouthful of apple juice.
Though I don't really understand your comment about starting a new line, Eruheran, since I hadn't written anything before that on those posts. There was no need to start a new line.
Morohtar leapt from his chair, and looked at the calendar. April the First. He grabbed his cloak, and ran to the cellar, returning 5 minutes later, covered in dust and soot.
"I fixed the Badger machine!" He shouted, jumping onto the tables and reactivating the speakers, before swinging on the chandelier to the exit/entrance.
"And I... Accidentally... destroyed your pitchforks!" Morohtar added, before laughing evilly.
"Aprils Fools!" He shouted, flicking the lightswitch. The Room went pitch black, and the door slammed shut. Moments later, the badger song resumed.
Morohtar leapt down from the apple tree in the garden, and ran to a dust covered statue in the corner, and pulled down a large sheet that was on top of it. The Statue of Grondy, and the crane that Eruheran had used to get it onto the roof the first time was still there. Morohtar climbed the crane, and ran across the top of it, before leaping onto the roof of the inn. The lights suddenly flickered back on, so he dropped a smoke grenade down the chimney.
"Death, you killed my Father!" Morohtar shouted down the chimney, using this as an odd form of revenge.
"What time is it? Was the fireplace on when I dropped the bomb?" Morohtar added, deactivating the Badger bomb. The loud music stopped, and Morohtar coughed from all the smoke. He kicked the wood that had been covering the hole in the roof, and it collapsed. He then jumped down, landing in one of the guest rooms, and waited for Ashwyn to follow.
"Ashwyn, come down. We just need to go downstairs and hope the fireplace wasn't turned on!" He shouted, jumping, before slamming through the second patched up hole, landing on a large table.
I DON'T MIND, he said. DARKNESS SUITS ME.
He then heard Morohtar and Ashwyn talking about the fire upstairs, and looked towards it. It was still smouldering, and the smoke grenade was giving off copious amounts of smoke in the glowing embers.
IT'S STILL GOING, he said, not needing to raise his voice for it to penetrate all corners of the Inn.
"It explodes if near to fire." Morohtar explained, leaping melodramatically to the fireplace.
"Death... Can you shove your hand in the fire and save our lives?" Morohtar asked, after burning his hand trying to get the bomb.
"I only bought this one because elves are cheaper. Dwarven smoke grenades are less explosive!" Morohtar argued, throwing the grenade through the window. It exploded the second it hit the glass, and covered a corner of the inn in soot.
"Elves are amazing." Morohtar muttered sarcastically, leaving for his room.
"...Seriously? It's like that family is on some sort of quest to damage this inn..." She looked up to see that the boards covering the hole in the ceiling had fallen as well. "I realize the idea behind April Fool's, but even Cloveress' pranks didn't cause this much actual damage." Eva missed the fairy, the more so because of the nature of the holiday.
She grabbed a broom to start sweeping up the glass and soot. "Any volunteers to fix the roof?" she asked. "I'm not skilled at carpentry, nor do I have confidence in my skills to get the boards back up there. I'm just glad they didn't break another table when they fell in..."
The little blue pinpricks of light in his eyesockets darted around for a few moments, looking for the dwarf, but the short, dependable bartender was nowhere to be seen.
DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE HE MIGHT BE?
"I will fix the ceiling. I was forced to build a library by my father, because that bunch of elves from Mirkwood are lazy morons. And some other elf woman didn't help either." He added, taking apart the bed in the room, and begun to the pieces in place on the hole.
"Whose room am I wrecking?" He added, as he hammered some more pieces of bed into the hole.
"This is much quicker!" Morohtar added, throwing it in the corner. It exploded, and the water cleared the mess, into a small puddle.
"Much Quicker. Get a bucket!" He finished, throwing his coat onto a table.
"They lived in huts on the top of trees, and had funny helmets they used for drums. Weirdos." He finished, finishing his drink.
The chair that Death's presence had been slowly rotting and eradicating over the past few minutes suddenly gave, and Death fell to the floor with a swoosh of robes and a clatter of bones.
AH... he said, picking himself up with a sigh. He looked at the black remains of the chair, then turned to meet the stares of the diners, some of whom turned back to their drinks with a shudder. I DO THAT. I'LL JUST... he glanced at another chair, and thought twice ...GO AND STAND IN THE CORNER.
He picked himself and his scythe up with as much dignity as possible, then walked over to one of the corners furthest from the fire. Death turned and watched proceedings with dark intent.
"My Father was planning to head east, and find out where they came from. Then some stuff happened, the Elf woman ran off, so he came back here, leaving me in charge. Then his men headed north and came here, some nutters had attacked the place. They hadn't come back so I came here." Morohtar added, somehow turning it into his life story. The top of Deaths thumb hit him on the foot, and he turned around. Death was rebuilding in the corner.
"Where are the other 3 Horsemen, Death?" Morohtar asked, sliding the thumb down the bar.
He saw Morohtar going for his wickedly curved sword.
WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU DOING?
"You were about to say the Barad-Durish is better than this place." He explained, standing up to go to the toilet.
"I heard that they have fight pits. Arthion is in the middle of a fight with a pack of Wargs there." Morohtar explained.
This might all be a tad confusing, Grondy, as there's been about five or more pages added to the Inn in your absence! Suffice to say, it's been a bit hectic.
"Of course I do, Grondy! I'm hardly that forgetful. Though it's lucky you left plenty of the spice mix, because I wouldn't have known how to make that." Eva stuck her head out of the kitchen. "I'm sorry the roof and windows are a bit patchy, this bunch has been pretty rambunctious with no one to keep them in order." She grinned. "It's good to see you again, by the way."
"I heard about you. My fathers statue of you is in the garden. It was meant to be on the roof but... it collapsed, almost killed him, got us attacked a few times by a weird bloke and a dragon, before my father was killed by Death. I then arrived, and it has calmed down since then."Morohtar explained, before running to examine the crack.
"How do you get in there?" Morohtar asked.
"And I will pay for the damage in the ceiling." He added, pointing to the roof, and then the ruins of the table in the corner.
" Your offer to pay for the repairs sounds fair and is accepted Morohtar. Don't know how I got in that crack, but I sure I don't want to return there. I'd like to ensure it stays closed; maybe a good grade of glue needs to be squirted in it; or maybe I should hire a friendly wizard. But first I should check the ceiling in the first cellar below the crack to see if it goes clear through, won't be surprised if it don't because I haven't been down there for months."
*Or whatever the ME Equivalent of ’200 is.