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Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.

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] >>
"That was...***BURP...great sir...***BURP...oh God!...***BURP.

Laurel started to run around the bar room, burping wildly and crying hysterically between it. She bumped into the nice gentleman singer, then into Amarie, then into Grondy and Stonehelm and Turin. When she plowed into Turin, she dropped the purple bottle on the floor in front of him, with the remainder of the Burp Juice inside. "***BURP..There ya gooooooo***BURP. Then she went off knocking over glasses and leaving a broad path of destruction in her wake.
A Blonde woman stands up on the chair she took during the last song. She says "Well here goes nothing," and began to sing concerning The Battle of Evermore...
Queen of Light took her bow, And then she turned to go,
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom, And walked the night alone.

Oh, dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light.
The dark Lord rides in force tonight, And time will tell us all.

Oh, throw down your plow and hoe, Rest not to lock your homes.

Side by side we wait the might of the darkest of them all.

I hear the horses' thunder down in the valley below,
I'm waiting for the angels of Avalon, waiting for the eastern glow.

The apples of the valley hold, The seeds of happiness,
The ground is rich from tender care, Repay, do not forget, no, no.
Dance in the dark of night, sing to the morning light.

The apples turn to brown and black, The tyrant's face is red.

Oh the war is common cry, Pick up you swords and fly.
The sky is filled with good and bad that mortals never know.

Oh, well, the night is long the beads of time pass slow,
Tired eyes on the sunrise, waiting for the eastern glow.

The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall, the ring wraiths ride in black, Ride on.

Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before.
No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold.

Oh dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light.
The magic runes are writ in gold to bring the balance back. Bring it back.

At last the sun is shining, The clouds of blue roll by,
With flames from the dragon of darkness, the sunlight blinds his eyes...
"That's the end of that," she says as she reclines in her seat. "Can I have an ale?"
"I that ye can lass, you've earned it," says Grondy as he slides a tall frosty mug af ale down the bar to Ms. Galenhir. "And here's a basket o' Spicy Orc Knuckles to nibble on 'tween sips."
The dwarf laughed. 'HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! LOL!!!! ROTFL!!! ROTFLMAO!!!!! YOU SUCKERS SINGING YOUR SONGS!!!!!!! LOL!!!! I NEVER SANG A SONG WHEN I ENTERED THIS INN!!!!!!!! Oh. Woops. NOOOOO!!!!! I don't want to sing a song. I really don't!!!!" But really she liked the attention, and drunkenly sang: (to the tune of do re mi)

Dough, the stuff that buys me beer!
Ray, the guy who sells me beer!!!!!
Me, the dwarf who drinks the beer!
Far, a long way to get beer!
So, I think I'll drink some beer!!
La-ger is a sort of beer!
Tea? No thanks, I"m drinking beer!!!!
WHICH WILL BRING US BACK TO BEER!!!! (beer, beer, beer)

And she sat down with a smile on her face. "Now, fellas!!!! Gizza beer!!!!"
Galenhir smiles and accepts the ale. Rasing it she says "It was a good song, thanks Grondy!" After that she begins crunching away on her orc-snack.
Great song loni! keep up the good work, uhh i mean drinking. SPeaking of drinking i'mma grab me a beer! Smile Smilie I'm really enjoyed that new lagar from Gondor, gorgeriser light’, Same great taste and half the carbs.
"Aye. Ill have something to drink as well. Grondy!! Get me something strong!" he yelled at the dwarf.
both yall have the same avatar (sorry, i pointed out the obvious) that's gonna confuse my wee brain
very badly.
"Okay Etharion, here's a glass of Balrog Firewater. I better warn you to keep it and yourself away from smokers, like those hobbits in the corner, cause one spark 'll take off your eyebrows. And us Dwarves best stay away from this stuff ifen we wants to retain our magnificent beards."

"You seeing double already AR-37? Better have some more of these Deep Fried Oliphaunt Toenails."
"Bah, you want some of these Jellied Troll Toebones I've got here. Go ahead, try one!"

Stoney looks about the room.

"Oi, where did Laurel get to? That stuff in the bottle only lasts about a minute, she'll be fine now."

Amari’ peeked up from behind a table in a corner. "I didn't see where Laurel went, I got distracted as I tried to tame this spider here. He did make a web when I asked him too, but then he started to throw dead bugs at me. Not sure if it a present or an attack. I think I'll leave him alone." She got up and brushed the dust from her knees and the bugs of her clothes.
"My! That was the best time of my life! Ya got any more o' that hogwash Burp Juice, Sir?" Laurel shouted at Grondy. She had simmered down and burped her last. At the sound of her name, she scooted over to Stonehelm and Amarie. "Do ya need something, eh? Or maybe I hurt ya on that mad run just now. I'm sorry, if I did. Never had that stuff before! Maybe you'd like a nice meal, you two. How about some heart-warmin' Oliphaunts' Trunk Stew? Me mum's recipe." She dashed off without waiting for a reply to prepare the stew.
Etharion slowly slides down from the wall where his drink had just slamed him."Ehheee....."
Glances over at Etharion.

"Hey Grondy, ya might need to get out the smelling salts. This one just bit the dust . Little pointy eared elfies just can't take a dwarf's drink."

"Don't forget the Dragon Tongue side dish, Laurel!"

Naw, I think I'll let him slope there; else how will he ever learn not to bite off, er drink up, more than he can handle. Cool Elf Smilie
"Well, it looks like he'll be lying there for some time. I guess you could decorate with him....maybe build a table around his head for an odd center piece?"

Laurel brought the patrons out some grub, then tripped over Etharion. "Hey, who left this here? I think he had too much swig! He's frothin' at the mouth, Grondy Sir! Maybe that green bottle marked 'Drink in case of Mouth Froth' would help him...else just let him sit in his own stew, so to speak, sir." She walked over to Amarie. "I was thinking. Maybe you could tame the dwarf and the frothing elf for your collection, Miss."
Casts's withering gaze over at Amarie and Laurel.

"Don't even try to tame me! I'll put Atomic Belch drink in both 'o your glasses when yer not looking!"

Leans in to whisper to Grondy

"We do have Atomic Belch drink, don't we?"

"Naw, Gimli figured some trouble maker might try to take advantage of its latent energy so he poured it down the sink; it did a pretty good job of cleaning out the drains too, I'd hate to have that happen to me." Elf With a Big Grin Smilie

"Laurel, do we have any more Warg Stew left, I'm getting a little peckish? You want another pint Stoney, or you gonna nurse the empty mug for another hour," continued Grondy.
"Right you are, getting' a little dry over here, Grondy! You got any of that Ye Olde Orc Whiskey?"

Sure have Stoney, you want the kind with black label or the one with the green, that has the Orc finger embalmed in it?
"Got to be the green know what happens to those that drink the black labeled one!"

"I say Laurel, is that Warg and Potato Pie I smell?"

" That's right, Sir. I'll bring it your way." The pie was fresh from the oven and very hot, so when Laurel cut into it, some of the gravy flew out and with a hissing noise to wake the dead, landed on the floor and somehow ignited the floorboards. "AH! SIR, WE HAVE A FIRE!!! I STARTED A FIRE WITH PIE AGAIN!!!"
"A FIRE!!! A FIRE!!!!" yelled the delinquint dwarf. "FUUUN!!!!!" And she immediately began jumping over it again and again, making shriekish cackles, until she burnt her foot and started pouring the black orc whisky over it, whgich only made the fire bigger and her foot sting. "JABBERJABBERJABBER!!!!" she roared, and tried to kill the fire with her axe.
You must read my drinking song!!!
Grabs the bucket of water (the one used to wake up drunks) and puts out the fire.

"There we are, now Loni, you just can't go dancing in fire. You'll be a crispy dwarf.."

Crystal, where is your song? I'll read it

"I am so sorry! I've been clumsier than a troll since the day I was born! Loni, can I get ya anything to soothe the fire-foot? Oh, I am a dunce..." Laurel began to wail miserably, in a very annoying, high-pitched whine.
Grondy grabbed the empty bucket and used it to get Laurel's attention; then handed her a blue and white bandana with which to blow her tiny snoz. Exploding Head Smilie "If that pies cooler now, I'd like a piece. Is there any of that horse-radish sauce to go with it, please? And then you may join me in a pitcher of Gimli's Finest if you'd like, though you better first take off those boots." Elf With a Big Grin Smilie
"Errr, Grondy? Is that a boggart I see in that bottle of Elven Firewine? Be careful you don't let it out."

"I'll have half that pie, miz Laurel, looks tastly it does!

Grondy had a mouthful of grog when he saw that boggart, snorted, and dang near coughed to death when it went up his nose. When he recovered he said, "Haven't had a coughing jag like that since that time I was dungeon crawling on my own. I was exploring this haunted ruins and had just silently slipped into a dungeon cell, when from out of a hole in the wall, come thousands of these wee weremidges, and some of 'em went right up my snoz and down the old windpipe. Don't 'member how I ever got out of that one. At least this time I'm among friends."
Stoney pats Grondy in the back. "As the old elven poet Otis once said, 'Never face boggart alone, eat you socks they will!' We'll keep ya safe from yon bottled boggart."

"Me dad had a boggart for a pet, he did. One day, it turned into me mum and started chasin' him, so he ran 'imself into the river nearby and drowned 'imself, he did. Good man, Dad. Bit odd, though...Pie, Sir Grondy, Sir Stoney?" Laurel gave a heaping slice of the hot pie to them, handing them the condiment tray, and tapping the boggart-inhabited wine bottle. "You know, Sir, it occured to me that maybe Amarie would buy it off of ya."
Amari’ comes strolling through the door brushing of snow. "The snow gnomes are a bit cranky today, so they made it snow outside so they could throw snowballs at me. Isn't that cute? So... what did I miss?"
"What you missed is that thar critter in the bottle, what we been talkin' about. Do you want to take it with you for your whatnoss: er zoo, menagerie?" "Thanks for the pie Laurel. Can you get us a refill? An have one for yourself."
"Sure, Sir. Can I have two, after that fire with the pie fiasco?"
"It's feeling a bit empty around here, only the four of us. Where'd everyone go??? Skipping off for Christmas holidays??.................Christmas????? know what that means? Time to break out those cases of Eggnog, Grondy!! Want to borrow my axe??"

"I shouldn't need the axe Stoney; I'll just happen to set the two crates of eggs in front of Loni and Halo_Black and let nature take its course. But in the meantime I'll crack a few by myself, can you reach me down that nutmeg grinder? I think I'll make this batch for us with some of this ancient bottle of 151 proof Hudson's Bay Rum what I stashed away a few years back. Mind your pipe there Stoney, don't want to blow the place up or singe me beard."

"Here you go mate. Aww! that warms de cockles o me heart all the way down to de tips o me toes."
"Tis a fine brew, Grondy, nothin' like Khazad-Dum Inn eggnog! Have you tried some Laurel and Ama? Allow me to fill you flagons."

"Ahhh, naught like a night in the inn while the blizzard blows through."

Laurel, can you bake us some o those holiday cookies shaped like Ringwraiths, 'n Balrogs, 'n Orcs, 'n specially the Christmas Troll. Him what wears the red jammys with the white fur trim and carries around a bag to pop all the good little kiddies in if they haven't been polite to their elders and licked their platters clean.

That reminded me of one of my favorite Non-Tolkien poems. When I was about ten a former neighbor sent a book of James Whitcomb Riley's poetry to my sister and me for Christmas. I still have that book though the cover is now a tad bit tattered, as that was over fifty years ago.

Grondy climbs on the soap box and begins to spout:
Little Orphant Annie by James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)


To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;
The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;
The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you

Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you

An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
"So, you better watch out,
You better not cry,
You better not pout,
I'm telling you why:
The Christmas Troll is comiing to town.

Thank you, thank you. " he says to all the applause; and as he finishes with a bow, he falls off the soapbox..
Hey, I just made a nice pot o navy bean soup with diced crebain breast ; and yes it tastes more like chicken than ham, but I figure this way only the vegens will pass it up on a cold blustery day like this.

I'm thinking of hiring some outside music for our 2 Yule Day's Eve celebration, which as all Shirefolk know, falls in the evening on the last day of the year, like the night of 1 Yule, or the day after tomorrow. Does anyone have any preferences?

I've also set aside for that night a couple tuns of bubbly for those of you who will be a wantin' to tickle their nose.
"Here's a pint of ale for Rhapsody who is pulling her hair out awaiting the announcement of the winner of our writers contest. Cheers, my lady!"
This weary ranger accepts the tankard of Ale. Does this mean I have to sing as well?
Laurel came out of her quarters with a large trunk.
"Sir, if I may, can I pour some of my Grandmother's Bubbly Liquor in celebration of the new year comin'? I got about twelve bottles...had a lot more, mind you, but when you are sitting quietly alone in your room, it gets mighty easy to crack one o' these babies open!"
She began to uncork the bottles and serve glasses of the bubbly to the patrons about. She even brought out Gimli's best glasses, kept in the old storeroom, made of blue leaded glass and embossed with silver.
"I'd like to propose a cheer!" Laurel said as she whisked about, pouring glasses.
"To Health, Wealth, and the finest Inn in Middle-Earth!!!!"
oi this is an rpg!!! Better post something good then to keep an honourable name... got a reputation to keep you see!

The ranger arose from the chair and cast down her hood; her blond hair was revealed and shone brightly in the lamplight. She lifted her tankard and spoke:

Gather around all you fine lords and ladies
The children are sleeping and so are the babies
The evening’s just started, the night will be long
So fill up your mug with some wine and a song!

Come lift up your tankards, and raise up your glasses
And drink all ye Dunedain laddies and lasses!
The barrel’s not empty there’s more to wassail,
A toast will keep Eriador hearty and hale!

On cold winter nights when the wind blusters angry,
We’ll mull up some wine and we’ll spike it with brandy.
We’ll sit round the fireplace and tell some tall tales,
’No Sh’ there I was’ will be heard without fail!

So come lift up your tankards’.

At great summer gatherings where mead flows like water,
we’ll send out a cheer and we’ll follow with laughter
And drink what we can for what else can we do
With Barliman's most remarkable brew!

So come lift up your tankards’.

We come from a Kingdom that’s far north and frozen
Watch out for the snow ants, you’d best keep your toes in
Crack open a bottle of Butterbur's finest Ale oh so brown!
For this Dunedain ranger has come to town!

Come lift up your tankards’.

Let’s drink to our fighters, those brave men and women,
To our fine dapper fencers, they’ll not be forgotten
We’ll drink to each other, we’ll drink to our land,
Our glorious Kingdom of Arnor, it’s ours to defend!

So come lift up your tankards’.

With pride and with reverence for our Chieftain and his elven Lady
Of the line of the North we will drink and we’ll sing of this fine milady
Now toast one and all to our chiefs, drink down!
Then raise it again for Eru and his Valar of great renown!

And we’ll lift up our tankards and raise up our glasses
And drink to our Dunadan laddies and lasses!
The barrel’s not empty there’s more to wassail,
A toast will keep this bard and Eriador hearty and hale!

A free interpretation of Ealdormere Drinking Song, presented by you by the scribe of Eriador who still anxiously awaits the final result of the writing competition..
Ar-37 walks through the door and sees himself sitting at the bar. "DAH!" ar-37 draws his sword and pounces on the other him. Cutting the head off the imposter he yells triumphantly "NOW EVERYONE WILLTHINK IM THE REAL AR-37!" The other him turned out to be a pinyahtah, he laughed nervously and asked grondy to pour him a beer. "Just bring out the barrel!" He added to grondy who was heading down to the cellar for a fresh barrel anyway.
Grondy grumbles to himself, 'Dagnabit, now I've got all those pieces of candy and tiny toys to sweep up and a new pinnyata to hang for the kids to bash down come Epiphany next Thursday. Maybe I'll use that one made in the likeness of Halo_Black, or better yet Virumor." He retrieves the new keg of Ale and bounces back upstairs with it. Elf With a Big Grin Smilie
Here's another plate of Spicey Balrog Wings and a bowl of Pickled Orc Knuckles. Anyone require their tankards refilled?
Eruwen walked into the Inn, desperately searching for something to warm her bones. She had never set foot in this Inn before. "Excuse me, sir? Do you have warm, mulled wine? If so, I would love a glass to dissolve this chill." She softened her lips into a slight smile, hoping to encourage kindness to her warrior-like appearance. She was weary.
A Ranger walked into the Inn soon after Eruwen, seemingly just out of a fight.
"Have any ale anyone?" she asked gruffly, glancing around a bit. She leaned back against a wall and scanned the area thoroughly.
Hope it's not too late to join up in this! Very Mad Smilie
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