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Tales From The Old Bald One-Eyed Salty Red Dog Tavern! (chapter 1, now closed)
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<blockquote data-quote="Branding Opportunity" data-source="post: 2280468" data-attributes="member: 31812"><p>A prolonged coughing can be heard from coming outside the door of the inn. It continues for nearly a minute, and you hear a man's baritone voice say, "<span style="color: Plum">Great Grandfather's ghost! I thought I was about to loose my lunch on that one.</span>"</p><p></p><p>There is the sound of some shuffling about and clearing of throat after which the door opens, revealing an extremely tall, lanky man clad in rust-red clerical robes, covered with a midnight-blue hooded cloak. Before entering the inn’s main room proper, he turns around and calls out sharply to someone out of sight, “<span style="color: Plum">No, no, put him in the stable and don’t give him oats. You know how gassy he gets when he eats plain oats. Just mix it with the straw.</span>”</p><p></p><p>The man turns and enters the main room, ignoring everyone else, not bothering to close the door behind him, and quickly makes his way over to a table, where he unceremoniously plops into an empty child. He pulls the hood off of his head, revealing a bald pate, a black goatee and chillingly blue eyes. His features look patrician, accented by a narrow, aquiline nose and small, thin lips. He sits back in his chair, messaging his temples and mumbling to himself.</p><p></p><p>Finally, he looks up at someone he assumes is a waitress of some sort and very quickly blurts out, “<span style="color: Plum">Eh, hello there. Would you happen to have some warm soup or something like that? Nothing too strong, my stomach couldn’t take that. Perhaps a light leak soup? But nothing with cream, that would keep me up all night with cramps. Hmm, perhaps a chicken soup would be good? Well, I would think that would depend on the chickens. And then some bread. And maybe a little bit of venison if you have it. Oh, yes, and a wine, but nothing too sweet, and not that swill you sell the traders passing through. Something with a bit of age to it.</span>” He clears his throat, looking up to see if the waitress got all that. “<span style="color: Plum">Oh, yes, and I guess you should get something for Luther. He’s in the stable with the horse. He’s fond of cheese, but don’t give him any. The soup’s good enough for him. Dairy makes him obstreperous.</span>”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Branding Opportunity, post: 2280468, member: 31812"] A prolonged coughing can be heard from coming outside the door of the inn. It continues for nearly a minute, and you hear a man's baritone voice say, "[COLOR=Plum]Great Grandfather's ghost! I thought I was about to loose my lunch on that one.[/COLOR]" There is the sound of some shuffling about and clearing of throat after which the door opens, revealing an extremely tall, lanky man clad in rust-red clerical robes, covered with a midnight-blue hooded cloak. Before entering the inn’s main room proper, he turns around and calls out sharply to someone out of sight, “[COLOR=Plum]No, no, put him in the stable and don’t give him oats. You know how gassy he gets when he eats plain oats. Just mix it with the straw.[/COLOR]” The man turns and enters the main room, ignoring everyone else, not bothering to close the door behind him, and quickly makes his way over to a table, where he unceremoniously plops into an empty child. He pulls the hood off of his head, revealing a bald pate, a black goatee and chillingly blue eyes. His features look patrician, accented by a narrow, aquiline nose and small, thin lips. He sits back in his chair, messaging his temples and mumbling to himself. Finally, he looks up at someone he assumes is a waitress of some sort and very quickly blurts out, “[COLOR=Plum]Eh, hello there. Would you happen to have some warm soup or something like that? Nothing too strong, my stomach couldn’t take that. Perhaps a light leak soup? But nothing with cream, that would keep me up all night with cramps. Hmm, perhaps a chicken soup would be good? Well, I would think that would depend on the chickens. And then some bread. And maybe a little bit of venison if you have it. Oh, yes, and a wine, but nothing too sweet, and not that swill you sell the traders passing through. Something with a bit of age to it.[/COLOR]” He clears his throat, looking up to see if the waitress got all that. “[COLOR=Plum]Oh, yes, and I guess you should get something for Luther. He’s in the stable with the horse. He’s fond of cheese, but don’t give him any. The soup’s good enough for him. Dairy makes him obstreperous.[/COLOR]” [/QUOTE]
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