Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.
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Morohtar woke up in time to hear Deaths question. However, his door was jammed.
"Great!" Morohtar shouted, before searching the floor for a crack. He found one, and quickly scribbled a note, and slipped it through the crack.
'Yeah, we did. Did you mean to lock my door?!'
Grondy finally came in, "The roof is fixed," he said, and poured himself a tankard of Gimli's Finest’, took a swig and continued, "I'm going to get me some Spicy Hot Balrog Wings, anyone else want to order them, while I'm at it?"
"Yeah!" Morohtar shouted through the crack, before ripping off the window, and climbing the drain pipes to the ground, and walked in.
"My door jammed..." Morohtar muttered.
"Okay," said Grondy as he headed for the kitchen. Soon he was back with two plates of Spicy Hot Balrog Wings, one of which he set before Morohtar. "One for you and one for me. Enjoy!"
MAY I ASK HOW YOU SOURCE THE WINGS, GRONDMASTER? asked Death. I SHOULD KNOW THAT THE LAST OF THOSE BEASTS WAS KILLED DECADES AGO. He paused, his blue eyepoints flashing. OR IS THERE SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT TELLING US?
"Run Master Grond! The Continuity police are onto you!" Morohtar shouted, karate kicking the fridge door. It flew off, revealing a tunnel to a hidden nuclear bunker.
"Hide!" Morohtar shouted, leaping in.
Eva sighed. "Calm down, Morohtar. From what I've heard of Master Death, the 'Continuity Police', otherwise known as the Auditors, are the last people he'd side with. According to the tales, he's bent the rules a few times himself."
"Shut up and hide!" Morohtar shouted, locking the fridge.
HE'LL GET COLD AND MOST LIKELY HUNGRY AFTER A WHILE, said Death, finishing his ale and setting the glass back down on the bar. AND THEN HE'LL REALISE THAT THE FRIDGE DOOR CAN ONLY BE UNLOCKED FROM THE OUTSIDE. He paused. THAT'S THE SECOND TIME HE'S BEEN LOCKED INTO SOMETHING IN A MATTER OF MINUTES.
He turned to Eva.
HOW EXACTLY DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THOSE... COLD-HEARTED BUREAUCRATS? he asked. I WASN'T AWARE THAT KNOWLEDGE OF THE DISCWORLD WAS RIFE AROUND HERE.
"Its a blimmin' fridge! I won't get hungry!" Morohtar shouted, sitting down in the nuclear bunker.
"Wait..." Morohtar muttered, realising it wasn't actually a fridge.
Eva gave a slight smile. "I suppose it isn't, but I am a bard, though I collect more tales than I tell. And, being an elf, I've had quite a while to collect. The Disc makes for some very interesting tales, so I've picked up what I can of it. I chalk some of it up to exaggeration, but the Auditors seemed real enough." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I actually wasn't entirely sure about you, until you turned up here."
Morohtar slumped down on the large concrete bench, and put his feet up on the large concrete slab of a table. He grinned, before throwing his cloak onto the table and walking up the tunnel to the door, to open the door and offer everyone else the chance to survive the continuity police. Moments later, as he reached the door, he noticed it didn't have a handle.
"Amazing!" Morohtar shouted sarcastically, collapsing onto the floor. Because the floor was slanted, he slowly slid back down, and rolled into the table.
"What in the name of Isildur is wrong with me!" Morohtar grumbled, punching the table, before realising it was concrete and breaking his thumb.
WELL, I CERTAINLY DO EXIST. AND TO BE HONEST, THE DISCWORLD IS ABSURD AND FLAMBOYANT ENOUGH WITHOUT ANY EXAGGERATIONS.
"You Don't Exist! You are a spirit that has managed to form itself a physical appearance!" Morohtar shouted, before realising the nuclear bunker was soundproof. He could only hear death because death was so loud. Or maybe the Inn had already been burnt down by the continuity police already.
WHAT DO YOU THINK? said Death, turning to Eva, after hearing the muffled shouting and banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. SHOULD WE LET HIM OUT?
OOC: Eruheran, Death speaks slowly, in very deep, dark tones that remind one of echoing caves and dungeons. He doesn't shout, to all appearances.
"Don't let me out! Leave me here! Then let me out when you all are dead!" Morohtar shouted, lying down on one of the 5 small beds. He suddenly leapt up, and walked to the door.
"Actually, let me out. My Father was known as Lord Eruheran the Undying! It took Death to kill him!" Morohtar began.
"His successor; Arthion Fegan, is known as Lord Arthion Venomsbane. He has hunted down and slew many of Ungoliants descendants." Morohtar continued, adding in a melodramatic pause.
"And I am heir to their throne, so let me out so I can save your necks." Morohtar finished.
"Regarding the source of the Balrog wings: I once met this feller with a blue box for whom I did a major service during my adventuring years. Now he occasionally pops back in time to pick up the wings up from one of the Battles of Beleriand and then drops them off here on his way through this time zone."
"What, you think those Beleriand Balrogs didn't have wings," Grondy says with a wink, "well people say the ones I prepare are mighty tasty, even if their texture and flavor is almost like chicken."
"And Grondy, I am stuck in a blue box that leads to a nuclear bunker. Let me out before... oh... right." Morohtar shouted, before realising that Grondy had just cancelled the invasion of the continuity police.
Death would have laughed, if he could.
SO WHEN DID YOU MEET UP WITH THE DOCTOR, GRONDY? he asked. I ENCOUNTERED HIM MANY YEARS AGO, WHEN HE WAS HAVING ONE OF HIS BIOLOGICAL MAKEOVERS, AS YOU MIGHT SAY. I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD, BUT THEN HE GOT BACK UP AGAIN WITH A NEW BODY, WHICH SURPRISED ME, AT THE VERY LEAST. NICE CHAP, THOUGH, FOR ALL HIS QUIRKS.
"We on about that weird bloke with the funny scarf? Or are we on about the teacher? or are we on about the guy with a colourful coat?" Morohtar asked, confused by their conversation.
Fornad, change that to "Splendid Chap. All of them."
"As I recall, at that time I was a raw underling grunt in the army of the White Council. The Necromancer, had imported ten silver knight mercenaries from some far off place and they were overpowering our army. Then the bloke with the blue box suddenly turned up and showed us how to plate the tips of our arrows with gold. When the arrows hit a certain part of their silver armor, the gold had a debilitating effect on them, causing them to foam at their orifices and die. Because of him we were able to free Mirkwood from the dominance of the Necromancer. After wards, we wanted to thank him, but found he had disappeared at the end the battle. At least that is the way I remembered it: I was young and quite impressionable at the time."
Shadow slipped in the door, hoping not to make a scene, and settled at a table near the edge of the room. He looked around at the common room, taking in the arrangement and the people there. He was wearing a black cloak with the hood pulled over his face, and if anyone were able to peer in, they would see a dark complexion underneath. This seemed like a safe place to get a meal and a drink, but he was unsure, as he was when he went most places. His sword settled on his hip as it rested on the bench, and he drew a dagger out to use on whatever meat the kitchen had ready to order. Looking around, he wondered if anyone would notice him, cleaning his fingernails with the blade, but he made no move to purposely draw attention to himself.
Revenwyn likewise slipped inside the tavern, and having heard that people were supposed to sing when they came in, she decided that she would get as far into the shadows as possible, and by that, she did not mean under her husband's cloak. Going to a corner opposite of Shadow, she hoped that none would disturb her.
Shadow saw Revenwyn enter, and said nothing. Like him, he knew that she would want to be left alone, and they would draw attention to each other if they were together. Soon, when he had ordered some ale and a mumak burger with fried potatoes, he leaned back and tried to stay as still as possible.
Eva raised her eyebrows at the furtive pair. She did not immediately pursue the woman, who clearly wanted to be left alone, but since the man had ordered, she felt obliged to point out the rule. "Sorry, you have to sing for your first ale," she said. "It doesn't have to be complicated- just any song you've heard on your travels will do, though we do enjoy original compositions!"
Revenwyn could almost feel Shadow's embarrassment. He kept rather quiet most of the time, and to sing for his supper would be quite an extroverted activity for him. She sighed in the corner, raising an eyebrow and wondering if she would order any ale or not. Her singing was not the best.
Noticing that she had been noticed, she took a table near the corner and hoped that Shadow would sit near her after his embarrassment; he would need it.
The fridge door blew off, and Morohtar climbed out, and ran into the main room. The Nuclear bunker had an emergency weapons room, and he had found an explosive. As he soon as he lobbed his coat onto his table, he noticed 2 people were sat there, and one of them was covered by his cloak.
"Oops... Welcome. Anyway, Welcome to the Inn. Don't get scared away by that bloke in the other corner. He isn't as scary as he sounds. He is called Death, by the way." Morohtar explained.
"If you are scared, there is a nuclear bunker in the fridge, a tunnel to Khazad-Dum in the basement, a cow in the stables and a windmill in the garden." Morohtar added.
"And I am Sir Morohtar, Heir to Ch’sor of the south."
Hey. Welcome and stuff. We have a thread called 'New Members' somewhere that you could post on. Try the 'Character Elimination Game' and 'Walk in and have a seat game'
Shadow nodded at the woman and stood. When the other person entered, he nodded to him as well. Taking a place at the center of the room, he coughed gently into his hand and, when the room was moderately quiet, he began to sing:
In distant nights so cold and dark,
the children of Iluvatar were born to see the stars
the first thing that they saw was darkness and light amid the night,
but then the Valar came to take them away
to distant shores so far and wide
in distant nights so cold and dark.
Some then were lost because they stayed,
and others balked and others strayed,
the children of Iluvatar were taken to the shores,
and went away to Undying Lands,
though some were lost because they stayed.
Beleriand, where did you go?
Beneath the sea, oh land so old.
Into the west, return to light,
still in the shadow of the night,
upon the sea, oh land so old.
Beleriand, where did you go?
When he was finished, he have a light bow and said, "It's not much, but that was my song." Then, with a thin smile, he returned to his table to wait for his mumak burger.
"Coat...?" Morohtar muttered, as Shadow hadn't removed his coat from his head.
Death listened to the song, then clapped a few times, the bones in his hands creating an unpleasant clacking sound.
WELCOME TO THE INN, he said. I AM DEATH, AS THE CH’SORIAN HAS ALREADY POINTED OUT. He paused, the bright blue eyepoints in his empty eyesockets flickering over the two. I AM SURPRISED. MOST WOULD HAVE RUN IN TERROR BY NOW.
OOC: Did you write that yourself? I've never seen it before, and it's very good.
"Who wouldn't. You killed the most powerful person from the South!" Morohtar argued.
"Who was also my Father!" Morohtar added.
If you don't understand, Don't ask. It'll take a while.
I THOUGHT WE HAD CLEARED THIS ISSUE UP, said Death. IT WAS YOUR FATHER'S OWN FAULT.
OOC: A long-running argument, stretching back several pages on this thread. It's all in good humour though.
"We cleared it up?! Lord Arthion wanted your head on a plate!" Morohtar argued, holding up a scroll.
"So I told him to do it himself." Morohtar added.
Fornad, when are we continuing with the KDI Historians thing?
LET ME SEE THAT, said Death, striding over to Morohtar, glowing scythe in hand, and took the scroll from his hand. It read:
Year 35 of the Fourth Age, March 15th.
I, Arthion, declare, as right hand man of the late King Eruheran Surivan I of Chasor and current Steward of that esteemed land, that the vile murderer of his Majesty, the terrible ghoul and conjurer that pretentiously names himself Death, but who we are informed by his Majesty's son and Prince of Chasor, Morohtar, is truly named Geoff, now has a bounty of 15'000 mithril pieces upon his body. His head will be presented to the Steward of Chasor before the bounty is given over.
WHAT KIND OF BLASPHEMY IS THIS? Death stormed. HOW DARE HE PLACE A PRICE UPON MY HEAD? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?
His eyepoints flashed red, and blue sparks flew from the razor-sharp blade of his scythe.
NEVER IN ALL THE MILLENNIA I HAVE BEEN IN THIS AND ALL OTHER UNIVERSES HAS SUCH AN INSULT COME MY WAY! THIS ARTHION SHALL SEE WHO HE TRULY DEALS WITH VERY SHORTLY.
He walked towards the front doors, blasting a chair out of the way in his rage.
"Lord Arthion must not be touched!" Morohtar shouted, pulling out his dual scimitars and catching up with the Demon.
"You killed our leader, don't you expect this to happen?" Morohtar explained. They were behind the building, where the window was still shattered.
"I am surprised that Grondy hasn't sued you for the shattered window." Morohtar added, pointing at the window.
AND YOU! Death shouted, turning around. YOU TOLD THAT MAN MY NAME WAS GEOFF! A TRICKSTER AND CONJUROR! YOU KNOW WHO YOU DEAL WITH!
Death suddenly grew bigger, his blue eyepoints becoming red, growing larger like flame. He towered over Morohtar in his fury.
IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE, CH’SORIAN, YOU WILL STOP IRRITATING ME.
He swept into the stables, untied and saddled Binky and mounted up onto him.
PERHAPS YOU SHOULD THANK ME, he said, riding Binky out onto the road. ONCE I'M FINISHED WITH HIM, THE DATE OF YOUR CORONATION WILL COME FAR SOONER THAN YOU EXPECTED.
"Good Point! Feed my cow for me until I return!" Morohtar shouted, leaping onto his horse.
YOU WILL COME WITH ME TO DETHRONE ARTHION? Death asked, turning in his saddle to look at Morohtar.
"Yeah. Can I borrow your timey-wimey teleport-y powers?" Morohtar asked, pulling his cloak on.
IF YOU MEAN MOVING THROUGH LONG DISTANCES VERY QUICKLY, THEN YES, I SUPPOSE YOU CAN HOLD ON, replied Death.
OOC: Since this is going to be outside the KDI, should I do it in a Journal, finishing with us returning here?
"I will do the... hoppy thing with you then." Morohtar agreed, tying his horse back up.
OOC: Well, execution is a bit harsh. We'll have to see...
THEN LET US GO, said Death, tying a few straps tight and doing basic pre-equestrian flight checks. MOROHTAR, SIT ON THE BACK OF MY SADDLE, AND HOLD ON TO WHATEVER YOU CAN.
"Bye Cow, Bye Horse!" Morohtar announced, waving at the cow and the horse in the stables, before jumping onto Blinky.
"Go." Morohtar muttered, pulling the hood of his maroon cape up.
THIS IS GOING TO BE QUITE UNCOMFORTABLE TO START OFF WITH, said Death. He snapped Binky's reins, and the horse began to trot, then canter, then gallop along the road.
A nearby hobbit, working in his field, would wonder for days about the sight of strange blue flames leading up into the sky and the odd noise that sounded like a short scream coupled with: HERE WE GOOOOoooooo....
To be continued...
'Welcome to the Inn my good sir,' said Grondy, 'that was a mighty good song. Here is your complimentary tankard of Gimli's Finest ’ Ale and your Mumak Burger with Fried Potatoes. I still owe you one complimentary Combo Platter of Spicy Hot Balrog Wings, Deep Fried Watcher Rings, and Bar-B-Qued Warg Ribs.' Just ask for it when your ready.'
To Eva Grondy whispered, 'Let us hope Death can keep that young feller busy for a while so we can get the Inn repaired and let our guests have some sense of quietness.'
Grondy approached the table where the silent lady sat, nodded and said softly, 'Good evening madam, can I get you anything, a room with a private bath perhaps, a cup of tea, or something to eat?'
Shadow smiled as he listened to the argument, as it meant he could return to his seat without a word. When Morohtar had mentioned his coat, he lowered his hood, revealing scruffy, jet-black hair and the ears of an elf, though his skin was dark, not particularly fair skin. When Grondy came up, he said, "Thank you. I'd like to try those Balrog wings. I've heard their rather...hm, legendary. I trust they're not debatable?"
I did write the poem myself. In fact, I wrote it for my post
"Well," Revenwyn started, "I was trying not to cause any disturbance while I just sat in the shadows here. In fact, I was just thinking that I need to come up with something to sing, but since I don't have a good voice I may just have water instead of ale. My husband over there" she pointed to Shadow, "almost blew me away with that song. Those things come off the top of his head almost effortlessly, while I almost have to grovel into the deepest reaches of my mind to find something to sing."
OOC: I'm working on the story about Death and Morohtar when I can, and the first part should be up in the Journals section in a few days.
Eva agreed with Grondy's sentiment wholeheartedly. She had been about to warn the new guests that it was best to mostly ignore Morohtar, but to keep an eye on him in case he caused another catastrophe, but since he was gone (and, somewhat less fortunately, Death with him), the warning was no longer necessary.
She gave a small sigh, feeling a little bad for thinking so harshly of him- after all, he clearly meant well, and wisdom was much more easily learned than a good heart- and went to fetch Shadow's Balrog wings.
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"Sometimes we bend the rules to accommodate our guests Lady Revenwyn, you don't have to sing. But could you possibly just recite a poem instead? It wouldn't have to be a whole epic, merely a few lines from one will do. And if you do it before the Inn fills up with our regulars, I can almost guarantee a polite audience, especially after I brandish my axe before any who may not have thought about it."