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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] >>
"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 one...you 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?????......you 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:
Quote:
Little Orphant Annie by James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)

INSCRIBED WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION

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
Don't
Watch
Out!

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
Don't
Watch
Out!

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
Don't
Watch
Out!

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
Don't
Watch
Out!
"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
"Never too late My Ladyships; however, before we can offer you any libation, you must act upon Gimli's Rule posted at the beginning of this thread. Though you're both welcome to sit by the fire and warm yourselves or order some food while preparing for your performances.

In case you are having any difficulty determining what your presentations might be, feel free to browse the contributions of our other customers." Happy Elf Smilie
Laurel scurried over to the new patrons. "Welcome to the finest inn around! Don't mind Grondmaster, he's mighty fussy 'bout those old rules. Why, the last poor soul who didn't mind 'em and sing wound up followin' Amarie's travelling menagerie around, cleanin' up after the various creatures she keeps...sordid job, that. Anyhow, here's these...they'll do to warm ya until stronger stuff is afforded you." She slyly passed some Spicy Orc Knuckles to the new guests, then wandered off to see why everyone was so quiet.
Eruwen was a bit taken aback. "Sing?" She glanced around her at the patrons of the Inn. Sticking out her bottom lip, she blew the wisps of sun-kissed hair out of her face. "Well, I suppose I can give it a try. I'm really not much of a singer, but I am one who understands that rules are rules." She searched her brain for songs from her childhood or songs she heard from the trees, but nothing came to mind. She finally decided that making something up on the spot was the best she could do. "I don't really know anything light and happy," she said before beginning her tale in a soft, unsure voice:

As she walked to the ocean's edge,
gritting the sand in her teeth,
she asked Fate where to go,
and was torn from the shore like a leaf.

She clutched her few belongings,
and challenged the spirited sea.
She set sail on the first ship out,
believing it to be destiny.

The sea air filled her nostrils.
The salt water coated her lips.
The sun shone on her face.
Her soul was lulled by the rolling ship.

As the stars started to shine,
she realized the sea was too calm.
Then thick clouds darkened the sky,
and all was not well for long.

Terror was in the eye of every man.
The air was still, the waiting hard.
Then the thundering anger of the sky
tore the weary heavens apart.

The wind whirled and toiled.
The water tossed and brewed.
The sails were torn and broken.
The ship was ripped in two.

The wood splintered around her.
She clung on to what remained.
The waves pulled at her body.
She dug her hands into the grain.

Once all was calm again,
and the wind blew away the threat,
attempting to regain her wits,
she lifted her head from the battered deck.

She looked about and began to drown
in the presence of myriad stars.
Her head spinning, she closed her eyes,
and cried out to Fate from afar.

She glanced back toward the sky.
Through her tears, she saw a faint glow.
A light appeared from the heavens.
It beckoned to her to follow.

Her heart finally felt settled.
No more wandering alone.
She had a guide for which to search,
he embodied half of her soul.

Eruwen quickly sat down at the table nearest to her. "Now may I have warm drink, sir?" She hung her head in embarrassment with thoughts of lost love on her mind.

Yay! 200th post! Woo hoo! Pary Smilie
Congrats Eruwen!

Lightfoot's eyes widened, then she smiled to Laurel.
"It's not a problem to sing a song. My songs aren't so long though.."
She smiled and cleared her throat, then began:

There once was a land very far away,
Where now only deer stray,
Once the silver horns did cry,
Nearly shattering the sky.


The city was an awing sight,
Gleaming through the dead of night,
One sad night, she was seen by invaders,
And thusly marched the vicious crusaders.

The city was not prepared,
Not a citizen was to be spared,
The enemy killed them all,
And conquered the splendid hall.

She soon crumbled to the ground,
Enemies gone, not to be found,
None are there save the deer,
Which in the wind, ghost horns they hear.
Well sang My Ladies!

Here's a tankard of Gimli's finest with a shot of brandy on the side for each of you. If that doesn't warm you up, I can bring you some spicy mulled wine or a double hazel nut mocha grande with whipped cream.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" guffawed the weirdo Dwarf, who had recovered from the drunken daze she was in previously. "MY SONG WAS BETTER AND I EVEN MANAGED TO SNEAK INTO THE INN WITHOUT ANYONE MAKING ME SING!!! I DID IT VOLUNTARIlY LONG AFTER MY ENTRANCE AND IT WAS - hic - BETTER!!!!!! IT WAS!!!! IT WAS ABOUT BEER!!!!!!!" And she prepared to sing it, but many peoople hushed her up and protested, so she didn't. "DDDWWWAAARRRVVVEEENNN ALE!!!!!" GIVE ME SOME DDDWWWAAARRRVVVEEEN ALE!!!" Suddenly she quietened down. "I remember the first ale I had. I was two. I nearly died. But I kept the bottle. I loved that bottle. Loved it like a brother. And to this day I keep it close to me heart." And she took out a rusty old bottle. "DDDWWWAAARRRVVVEEENNN ALE!!!" she screamed, and promptly broke it over her head. "Some friend you are..." she said, and toppled to the ground. Everyone was relieved.
Rhapsody awoke from her nap and stared at the Dwarf who bragged about her deeds. She had sung her song a while ago, got her ale and stared with anticipation in the direction of Loni. But then, oh well. The Inn was warm and comfortable, the ale was good, so why on earth would she ask such a thing. But then again... she had never heard a dwarf sing. It could be interesting.
Lightfoot sat down quietly and began sipping her drink. Her face twisted up at the first sip, so she just let it stay on the table. She glanced around and watched the others. This was an interesting, new experience to her, especially the dwarf...
Etharion was silent for quite a while now. He broke his silence only to ask Grondy to refill his cup.
While Grondy was down in the cellar wrestling with a new keg of ale for the bar, he fell asleep and just now woke up. 'Here you go Etharion; and a plate of Spicy Orc Knuckles to boot. Enjoy!'
"Ah. Thank you my good friend." he took the eatables and fell silent again.
Some one brought in an iced (and therefore unspoiled) watcher arm with tentacles and suction cupsstill attached; so I cleaned, sliced, battered, and deep fried us up some delicous French-fried Watcher Rings. Here's the first platter of them; any takers?

And while I'm available, anyone need a refill?
Raises her tankard in silence but with a very charming smile Wink Smilie
Eruwen thought the Watcher Rings sounded wonderful. Just what she needed to go along with her drink. "Excuse me, sir. I'll have a plate of those!" She glanced around to see if anyone wanted to share her table with her.
Lightfoot went over and sat at Eruwen's table.
"I'll have a plate also, thanks."
She then turned and looked Eruwen over.
"Hm...nice song before Lady Eruwen. You put much heart into it. My compliments."
"Here ya go ladies, two plates of Watcher Rings." From what I remember of my three trips to southern Spain, calamari tastes sort of like chicken, once you can forget about the creature from whence it comes.

"And pass your tankard and glasses here, and I'll top'em off for ya."
Laurel had been quite busy of late; she preferred to do winter cleaning rather than spring cleaning, so she had gone all throughout the Inn, scrubbing floors and washing linens and airing musty rooms that had not seen a guest in a long while. She emerged from the murky depths of the inn, whistling an old tune merrily. "Mr. Grondy, Sir, I found the oddest thing in one of the old hobbit rooms here...it looks like some sorta journal or something. Is it yours, Sir?" She tossed the journal to Grondmaster and went to cater to the guests. Seeing new faces, she made her rounds, introducing herself and passing out some of the Watcher Rings. "Now where in Middle Earth did that Amarie and that Stonehelm get to? I'm sure they would like some rings..." She tripped over Loni and regained her composure. "Sorry, Miss Dwarf."
"Hm? Yes, ms Laurel? Ooooo watcher rings!" At the mentioning of her name, Amarie looked up from her game of solitare with 34 decks of cards, a light version of what elves usually played. Living forever gives you plenty of time to kill. She had found a table in a corner in an attempt to avoid having the cards blown off the table by the draft from the door.
"There ya go, Amarie. Didn't see you in the corner playing your tricksy card game. Need any ale to aide your playing and wash down those rings?"

LOL! I love the 34-deck card game, Amarie!!! I'd love to see someone try to do that, elf or no!
Eruwen smiled at the newcomer to her table. "Thank you," she said shyly. She took a bite of the Watcher Rings. Hmmm...tastes like chicken she thought to herself. "Your song was rather sad as well. Unfortunately, what you speak of happens too often." She slowly sipped her drink and watched the liquid slide back down the inside of the glass. She glanced around at the loud dwarf, greeted the hardworking barmaid and turned back to the new guest. "So...what's your name, Ranger?"
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