The Bashar
First Post
Hrimr fills up his mug with more ale and walks over to where Alric and Bannock are tossing axes. He greats the Dwarves in Dwarven and settles on a stool to watch Bannock's toss.
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Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 3: Shelter From The Storm
- Thread starter Gregor
- Start date
Bannock shakes Brondwyn's hand and grins warmly as he accepts the axe, and hearing the dwarf speak, instinctually drops into one of rougher dialects of Gate Pass.
"Oy Brondwyn. Me name's Bannock Voss, as spoke 'ere Alric. We none did come through the high passes. Paced through the blazin' forest like you say, 'cept it nary burns more. Us lot put settled the flames and come through easy. There's a whole tale apart though! Now here, I admit, accuracy's never been me strongest leg, but game I am!"
Bannock then turns to the bullseye and lets the axe fly, hoping to at least hit the outer ring.
Missing, he takes a shot of malt, but seems unfazed.
"Ah, couldn't hit a barn, but liquor I can take!"
"Oy Brondwyn. Me name's Bannock Voss, as spoke 'ere Alric. We none did come through the high passes. Paced through the blazin' forest like you say, 'cept it nary burns more. Us lot put settled the flames and come through easy. There's a whole tale apart though! Now here, I admit, accuracy's never been me strongest leg, but game I am!"
Bannock then turns to the bullseye and lets the axe fly, hoping to at least hit the outer ring.
Missing, he takes a shot of malt, but seems unfazed.
"Ah, couldn't hit a barn, but liquor I can take!"
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digimattic
First Post
Arnir furrows his brow as Diashan speaks and then sneers in genuine contempt
[sblock="in elvish"]"I very well may be, but I didn't ask her to sit in my lap and looking at that lot, I certainly don't blame her for doing so. Don't worry Cousin, a few town guards are not going to spoil my evening."[/sblock]
He wraps one arm loosely around his companion's slim waist and keeps a grip on his bow with the other and switches to common "Isn't that right, my sweet?"
[sblock="in elvish"]"I very well may be, but I didn't ask her to sit in my lap and looking at that lot, I certainly don't blame her for doing so. Don't worry Cousin, a few town guards are not going to spoil my evening."[/sblock]
He wraps one arm loosely around his companion's slim waist and keeps a grip on his bow with the other and switches to common "Isn't that right, my sweet?"
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A few of the people in the small crowd that have gathered to watch the game give a bit of a cheer when Alric's axe strikes the mark.
"I canna lie, twas a fine shot!" says Brondwyn as he lines up his own toss. After the axe hits the middle ring, he says with a grin: "But as me da always sez 'don't be countin' yer goblins till they heads be on poles!'"
******
The innkeep looks a bit nervous when he sees the drunken guards stumble over to the table where Diashan, Torrent, Kirio and Arnir. There are five guards in all, but four seem to be following behind an oily haired and mustached fellow with a red nose and a sweaty brow. When they arrive, the lead guard speaks: "Oy! Who are you to be comin' in to our bar ... drinkin' up all the good stuff and layin' a hand on me best girl!?"
"I canna lie, twas a fine shot!" says Brondwyn as he lines up his own toss. After the axe hits the middle ring, he says with a grin: "But as me da always sez 'don't be countin' yer goblins till they heads be on poles!'"
******
The innkeep looks a bit nervous when he sees the drunken guards stumble over to the table where Diashan, Torrent, Kirio and Arnir. There are five guards in all, but four seem to be following behind an oily haired and mustached fellow with a red nose and a sweaty brow. When they arrive, the lead guard speaks: "Oy! Who are you to be comin' in to our bar ... drinkin' up all the good stuff and layin' a hand on me best girl!?"
digimattic
First Post
Arnir looks up from the ample bosom of the bar maid, entranced by its rising and falling as she talks, breathes and laughs. The placid expression on his face quickly sours as he sees who is addressing him.
"I would have thought that news would have traveled quickly in such a small town. No matter. Let me ask you something, guardsman.." he says with obvious contempt
"...in an average month, what might you be called to deal with? A tavern brawl? The theft of someone's goat? Perhaps even the rare murder? Strong stuff I'm sure. This month my companions and I have escaped a city under siege by the army of Ragesia, slaughtered an entire band of bounty hunters, destroyed a Ragesian Inquisitor and his undead soldiers and sent a hell hound, a hell-spawned devil and his minions back to their plane. To answer your question, I am your better. Now answer me this: who are you to speak of this lovely creature as if she was your possession? 'Best Girl'..." Snorts Arnir "...as though she were one of your wretched
stained, moth addled shirts. Be gone with you, before I instruct you in the ways of the arcane in a manner from which you will not survive."
Having said that, Arnir, with a grip still on his bow makes a strange gesture and mutters a few obscure words. As he does, the bar seems to fill to the brim with a horde of unseen people, swirling around the group of guards, some whispering softly, some yelling:
"leave..."
"Run you fools!"
"LEAVE NOW!"
"run...run...just run"
"why are you here? leave!"
"I would have thought that news would have traveled quickly in such a small town. No matter. Let me ask you something, guardsman.." he says with obvious contempt
"...in an average month, what might you be called to deal with? A tavern brawl? The theft of someone's goat? Perhaps even the rare murder? Strong stuff I'm sure. This month my companions and I have escaped a city under siege by the army of Ragesia, slaughtered an entire band of bounty hunters, destroyed a Ragesian Inquisitor and his undead soldiers and sent a hell hound, a hell-spawned devil and his minions back to their plane. To answer your question, I am your better. Now answer me this: who are you to speak of this lovely creature as if she was your possession? 'Best Girl'..." Snorts Arnir "...as though she were one of your wretched
stained, moth addled shirts. Be gone with you, before I instruct you in the ways of the arcane in a manner from which you will not survive."Having said that, Arnir, with a grip still on his bow makes a strange gesture and mutters a few obscure words. As he does, the bar seems to fill to the brim with a horde of unseen people, swirling around the group of guards, some whispering softly, some yelling:
"leave..."
"Run you fools!"
"LEAVE NOW!"
"run...run...just run"
"why are you here? leave!"
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Adjuntive
First Post
Alric pats Bannock on the shoulder. "Luck is not with you today is it?" Though he says this smiling, relishing the thought of Bannock stone drunk on the floor.
Alric retrieves the axe and attempts another shot. And is pleased to see it hit the middle ring.
"I do not doubt your mastery friend Brondwyn," taking on a wolfish smile, "but but I'm quick on the uptake with sharp things."
Alric retrieves the axe and attempts another shot. And is pleased to see it hit the middle ring.
"I do not doubt your mastery friend Brondwyn," taking on a wolfish smile, "but but I'm quick on the uptake with sharp things."
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Feeling a bit pressured, Brondwyn holds his tongue and concentrates on hitting the target with the next axe. He whips the axe out of his hand and it smacks the centre of the bullseye with a hard crack. His Dwarven buddies cheer and empty their tankards and a couple soldiers in the back call out: "Fine shot Brondwyn! Show the outsider how its done in East Watch!"
As Alric's grin melts away, Brondwyn cracks a small smirk to fill the void. "Leadin' by one I is. Ye fellas have it in ya to keep goin'? If not I'll kindly take tha keg ye owe me now."
******
At the table, the lead guard steps back a bit and puts his hand on the hilt of his sword when Arnir makes strange gestures and utters odd words. "Oy!" he yelps, "what are ye a wizard or sumfin?" He looks around in mild terror at the strange sounds before blinking a few times and shaking his head to clear the noise. His friends look more frightened than annoyed and step back a bit, leaving the lead guard alone near the table. "Nice little trick Elf, but it'll take a bit more n' scary noises to scare Sargaent Smythe." he says pointing to his chest with his thumb. "I uh ... let ye off this time as ye must be friends with the Baron's mage and I ain't gonna bite the lordling's hand that feeds me. No sir. Not fer a stinkin mageling and a worn out whore. Ye can keep her!" He laughs and stumbles back to the bar.
Eager to slay the awkwardness in the tavern, the innkeeper calls out: "How about a song?!" He then launches into a terribly tone deaf version of a country ditty which is quickly cut off by a call from somewhere in the crowd: "Put a cork in 'er Vanderson! Nobody comin' to yer pub to hear a goat bein' slaughtered!" Laughter erupts through the tap room and the visibly flushed innkeep ceases his song and returns to pouring drinks.
As Alric's grin melts away, Brondwyn cracks a small smirk to fill the void. "Leadin' by one I is. Ye fellas have it in ya to keep goin'? If not I'll kindly take tha keg ye owe me now."
******
At the table, the lead guard steps back a bit and puts his hand on the hilt of his sword when Arnir makes strange gestures and utters odd words. "Oy!" he yelps, "what are ye a wizard or sumfin?" He looks around in mild terror at the strange sounds before blinking a few times and shaking his head to clear the noise. His friends look more frightened than annoyed and step back a bit, leaving the lead guard alone near the table. "Nice little trick Elf, but it'll take a bit more n' scary noises to scare Sargaent Smythe." he says pointing to his chest with his thumb. "I uh ... let ye off this time as ye must be friends with the Baron's mage and I ain't gonna bite the lordling's hand that feeds me. No sir. Not fer a stinkin mageling and a worn out whore. Ye can keep her!" He laughs and stumbles back to the bar.
Eager to slay the awkwardness in the tavern, the innkeeper calls out: "How about a song?!" He then launches into a terribly tone deaf version of a country ditty which is quickly cut off by a call from somewhere in the crowd: "Put a cork in 'er Vanderson! Nobody comin' to yer pub to hear a goat bein' slaughtered!" Laughter erupts through the tap room and the visibly flushed innkeep ceases his song and returns to pouring drinks.
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digimattic
First Post
Arnir's cheeks flush red. Though he has not been drinking as heavily as the others, he still has a several tankards of cider in him and his pride gets the better of them. Rising slowly to let the girl off his lap, he rises, bow in hand, straight as a rod hoping to look larger than his 6' frame would suggest: "Stinking mageling? Worn out whore? You wretched, flea bitten, puss filled sack of . You apologize this instant or I will end you, is that clear?"
. You apologize this instant or I will end you, is that clear?"
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