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Author Topic: Kann Day I  (Read 15513 times)
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Jenna Silverbirch
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Hafling, Dogodan


« Reply #45 on: May 01, 2009, 05:27:13 AM »

It was a humid day, and Jenna Silverbirch enjoyed the heat and the stroll through the forest, ascending the slope to Tyr Donain. Though I’ll be glad to take this damn pack off she thought, hefting her awkward, bulging backpack further onto her back to try and stop the straps chafing her shoulders any more than they already were. She might be taller than most hobbits, and far more agile, but the rocky terrain was hard on her feet.
“Morning, lad” a dwarf trudging down from the city greeted her. She smiled back, not bothering to correct him. With her short hair and man’s clothing at first glance it was easy to mistake her for a boy, although looking more closely her face was undeniably feminine. Besides, she preferred it that way. A wandering male hobbit wasn’t as unusual as a wandering female one.

Soon the mouth of the underground city opened in front of her, and as she strode into the tunnel, stepping aside for the odd cart trundling along the track, she couldn’t help but think of her old family hobbit hole. It was deeply comforting to be back underground, surrounded and protected by the earth. She began to smile, and hummed a tune in time with her step. Her smile split into a grin as she saw the tavern she’d been told of, a little ramshackle perhaps, but somehow cheerful-looking.

As the hobbit girl entered the Kann Kemruhnt’s firelit room, she almost cried out with joy. The place looked perfect! There were plenty of patrons, even at this time, and such a mix of people - as many humans as there were dwarves, two elven women and quite possibly the oldest dwarf she’d ever seen. So many people, so many potential stories. She decided to seat herself on an empty table built for smaller proportions near the back, where she had a good view of all the tavern. That was another comfort. It was satisfying to see big folk looking uncomfortable and out of place in a world on a smaller scale to theirs, after spending so long living in their giant world, overlooked and rarely taken seriously.

She shrugged out of her pack, sighing in relief, and massaged her raw shoulders. Catching the eye of nearby dwarf who seemed to be taking orders, she smiled at the pleasant-seeming woman and said: “Could I get an ale, please? Something dwarvish. I’m sure you know the best brews.” Then, remembering her pitiful breakfast earlier that morning, added “And something to eat. Anything with fish.” In the comforting tavern atmosphere Jenna was lost in memories of her homeland, between the seas, and suddenly craved some good, rich seafood.

The order placed she settled back against her chair -a chair that actually fits me for once!- digging around in her pack for her long clay pipe and smokeweed. Her supplies of the weed were rapidly dwindling. Well, I’ll have a smoke now and see about buying more ‘weed later. I’m sure there’ll be a dwarf here to sell me some more, she thought. I might even be able to afford real pipeweed! Her pipe lit, she puffed contentedly for a few minutes, trying to decide which of the patrons looked most intriguing. That elf woman with the alarming red eyes? Or the ancient dwarf, or the dwarvish giant approaching that red-haired man? Not too far from her, three dwarves were beginning some game with marked bones. I’m always so careful with my sans, she thought I’ve got plenty to spare. And I’m sure these dwarves would take kinder to me if I were to drink and gamble and play their games. She decided to take a chance for a change and join the game when she’d eaten, but for the moment, enjoyed the flavour of her pipe smoke and rested her tired feet on another small chair.
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The world’s so full of wonder, it’d be a shameful waste to live without seeing as much of it as you could’ve.
Jenna Silverbirch -  Burrow by the Sea - Jenna's hobbit hole
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Airyn
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« Reply #46 on: May 01, 2009, 09:06:44 PM »

The dwarf’s tale had drawn to a close, and the elfess found herself in higher spirits than she had been in only minutes ago. Here he was, a dwarf whom she had never even laid eyes on before, who had been friendly enough to tell her and the other woman a story in the hopes of bringing a smile to their faces. Well, he had certainly done that, as the elfess could not control the corners of her mouth – they seemed to lift all on their own.

Next, the old dwarf was giggling to himself, and looking from the elven lady and her dog to Airyn and her own. "Tell me, lasses, a small bit about yerselves, will ye? Where does ya come from, what brings here to Tyr Donian, and where did ye both get such lovely animals to keep ya company? And mind ye, I'm awanting to hear the story of these matters, and don't be afraid, I like a long story. As if ya couldn't tell that one already!"

Airyn looked over to the elfess, who seemed to be lost to her thoughts for a moment. She hesitated, before straightening her back, rolling her stiff shoulders, and looking into the dwarf’s eyes. “Well,” she began, her voice shaking slightly with nerves. “I was born in Nybelmar; I am an elf of the Kay’rrhem. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of them, have you? See, my father was an air mage, and he was raised in Xaramon. When I grew older, I too had an interest in magic, and my father suggested that I study at the same school that he did.” She laughed, forgetting her sudden tension. “There is much more to that story, but I’m afraid we will have to wait for another time. Now, I went to Xaramon and did my schooling in the area of water magic. I had always had a fascination with water and with ice, and I simply could not deny the opportunity to travel and to follow my dream.  When I returned all those years later, I found that I missed the city too much to stay in the forests of Nybelmar. I love my home, and miss it terribly, but something inside of me grew so adventurous and attached itself to the wonder of Santhala. Have you ever been to Xaramon?”

The elfess paused, waiting for the great mass of information to register with the dwarf and the elfess, if she was listening. She figured that it probably sounded more like rambling and babble rather than a story, but storytelling was never her best skill. In fact, she did a rather hideous job at trying to tell a tale, and only hoped that the dwarf had not tired of her tiresome recount of events.
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Pline
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« Reply #47 on: May 02, 2009, 04:52:58 AM »

Pline wandered down into the tunnel from the outside of the mountain. At least it was well lit, he thought to himself as he meandered down into the belly of the mountain. He was footsore and roadweary, and it would be nice to be able to sleep under a better roof than the nearest bush or tree (though even those had been few and far between in this province.) The door of the inn within the trading post proclaimed "Kann Kemruhnt". Pline didn't know any Thergerim, but it seemed a decent enough establishment. He rested his stick on one shoulder and opened the door to walk into the tavern. At least, he thought, the rain couldn't fall on him if he got kicked out here.
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Thorin Broadfist
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Dwarf, Mitharim


« Reply #48 on: May 03, 2009, 11:02:15 AM »

Thorin downed the mug that had just been placed in front of him in mere moments. He wasn't sure whether or not he'd need another, but he signaled for one anyway. As he wiped foam from his beard, he watched Morden approach the Kasumarii with the fiery hair. Thorin stood, intending to get some air, when the thought that a fight or something could happen came. He sat back down and checked to see that his hammer could be pulled from his belt if need be.

He glanced around the room to see if anything else of consequence might happen and noticed that there seemed to be a gambling game going on. "Hm, been awhile since I gambled last. It's a shame I don't have near enough sans for a good wager." It was then that Thorin saw another flame haired human enter the bar. But this one was different, he was much younger. He seemed to be no more than lad that was about to become a man(by human standards). Thorin noticed that he walked with a limp much the same as Morden did, if not as obvious. As he made his way to the bar, Thorin saw that the human who had been writing was on his way out. "Well, not every tavern suits the tastes of every patron. Hm, what's that? Oh, just the door." A smile spread across his face as the hobbit made 'his' way to a table near the back. "I always did enjoy the company of hobbits. I'll have to go over to say hello some time. I wonder if 'he' has some pipeweed..." As Thorin thought about the joy of smoking that he so rarely experienced, the door interrupted his thoughts once again as yet another newcomer entered.
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I am a blacksmith, nothing more, nothing less.
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Pline
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« Reply #49 on: May 03, 2009, 11:37:33 AM »

Pline, scanning the floor of the inn the feyling noticed another halfling in the room. Deciding he could wait to perform until after he'd had something to eat, Pline wandered over to a table near this halfling. At first glance, he'd mistaken them for a man, but on closer inspection, it was a woman, short cut hair, perhaps trying to pass as a man but a woman none the less. There were subtle details, and you had to learn to read people if you wanted to get anywhere simply telling stories. The slightly finer features were the least of it, but Pline decided if it wasn't an issue, he wouldn't make it one and walked over to her table. "Would you mind if I joined you?" he said jovially.
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Jenna Silverbirch
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Hafling, Dogodan


« Reply #50 on: May 05, 2009, 01:52:02 AM »

"Would you mind if I joined you?"
The cheerful voice sounded just as Jenna’s pipe had all but burnt out. Puffing at the last curls of smoke, she looked up into the face of very tall, very gangly hobbit- at least, that was her first impression. Unable to contain her smile she nodded vigorously, unclamping the pipe from between her teeth. “Of course, of course! I was needing some company. Can’t sit over here brooding all day, in a good tavern like this.” she said, taking a closer look at the halfling. In this warm, comforting place her first thought had been-a fellow hobbit!- but now, she saw his faintly pointed ears and thin, very un-hobbit like features. A feyling! the thought only cheered her more. She found him even more appealing in his strangeness. And that’s a rover’s butterfly on his cloak, I’m sure. Well, now she thought Of all the people in this tavern the most interesting’s turned up at my table. If I can’t get a good story out of him it’ll have been an unlucky day. Lost in her happy thoughts, she realised she had been staring at the feyling a little too intensely and quickly dropped her eyes. What must he think? she scolded herself A hobbit girl, brazen as anything and dressed like a man, talking to him as if she’d known him years then staring?!

“You ever been in the Kemruhnt before?” she asked, turning her attention to her pipe, snuffing it and laying it upon the table “We’re certainly a mixed bunch of patrons.” Glancing at the bar, where the red haired youth waited for his drink, she noticed the tattoo on his arm. “There’s a fellow rover over there” she said, nodding in the lad’s direction. You’re a mixed bunch as well, she thought, though it seemed a little rude to say aloud.
« Last Edit: May 05, 2009, 01:52:37 AM by Jenna Silverbirch » Logged

The world’s so full of wonder, it’d be a shameful waste to live without seeing as much of it as you could’ve.
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« Reply #51 on: May 05, 2009, 06:03:07 AM »

"Oh aye, it happens every now and again. Taverns attract the odd sort." Pline said as he took a seat. "Pline, of the Black Butterflies" Pline offered his hand to the other halfling as he unslung his pack, the action caused the sleeve of his shirt to pull back to reveal a black butterfly tattooed on one wrist. Can't say I've been here before. If there's one rover they won't mind two though. You haven't seen any other folk with instruments about, have you?" Pline said nervously as he grabbed the wrapping about the mandolin in his pack.
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Hragnúr Pakthroon
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« Reply #52 on: May 07, 2009, 10:59:20 PM »

"You are right, I am too young to have anything other than water or Hearthberry juice. Milon told me I should try Hearthberry juice sometime, so I'll have that..."

Hragnúr nodded to the boy, and turned into the kitchen for a moment. She returned with a glass of Hearthberry juice, and handed it to the boy as she picked up his money from the counter. She listened interestedly to his explanation of his presence in the tavern. "That's too bad about ya being hurt, may Trum-Barol speed yer rec'vry. Ya should be careful, though, 'cuz limping should only be for the old folks, not young uns like you." She paused to stare distractedly at the far side of the tavern, her thoughts momentarily flitting back to her own youth. Years were not really that long of a time when you looked back. Her glanced returned to the boy, and the momentary tenderness in her eyes was soon shadowed by a jovial smile, "Enjoy yer drink now, lad, and avail yerself of the fine company of the tavern. Maybe if ye stay around a while, this place'll heal ya up with its charm."

As Hragnúr was finishing speaking, the serving girl walked up to her and explained that one of the hobbits that had come in wanted a drink. "Something dwarvish...well, I'll see what I've got that won't be too hard on the stomach. Let me talk to the cook about some food, though." Hragnúr turned into the kitchen and relayed the order, before returning to the draught barrels behind the bar. She decided that either the apple ale or her own Shorr brew would be most suitable for a hobbit, but couldn't quite decide which one to pick. Finally, she went with her own brew, drawing a mug of the "Child Brew" out of the barrel. She set it on the bar for a moment to check on the progress of the kitchen. Lunch was approaching, and the cook was preparing meals at a quick pace to make sure he was ready for the rush. After some minutes, the cook brought the dish out to Hragnúr, who carried it and the drink over to the young hobbit's table.

"A mug o' ale and a plate o' steamed mithanjor fer ya lad," began Hragnúr, setting down both dishes, "that'd be 7 sans. I hope ya enjoy it!" She saw another hobbit, a very gangly one, sitting next to the apparent "lad" she had first addressed. He seemed a bit nervous about something at the moment, so Hragnúr asked, "Would like something, lad, ta make ya more comf'table? A drink or a meal maybe? I assures ya, this is a fine tavern that ye'll be sure to enjoy, both its food and its company." She looked at him expectantly, wondering why he seemed to have a nervous air about him.
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If only a drink could truly wash away pasts and wipe away fears; maybe then life would be happy.

-Hragnúr Pakerim-Theroon
Deklitch Hardin
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Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #53 on: May 09, 2009, 09:38:12 AM »

"Enjoy yer drink now, lad, and avail yerself of the fine company of the tavern. Maybe if ye stay around a while, this place'll heal ya up with its charm."

Dek picked up the drink in his right hand, and sipped at it, savouring the flavours that played across his tongue and enjoying the way it livened up his mouth. Smiling, he put it down as he nodded at Hragnúr. The accompanying grin was cheeky, and made the boy look even younger than he was, "Milon was correct, that was worth drinking." After a brief pause, he continued, "Thank you, I will do that. And maybe after I am healed by the charm of the tavern, I'll be able to charm all of you with my acrobatic abilities. And I promise you, I won't steal a thing from you, just because I am a Rover doesn't make me a thief." Dek paused briefly, and then added, although after you see me perform, you'll want to give me your money to see more ...

Dek looked around the room, at the dwarves in the corner playing some kind of gambling game, if they don't allow me to drink anything stronger than this juice, they won't allow me to gamble, either, he thought, and his eyes continued to look over people in the tavern, his eyes fixing on the two hobbits, he pondered going over to them, but then saw one was a Rover, better to spread the talent then to have it all in the one place, he decided. An elf was regaling a dwarf and another elf with a story, that didn't really seem interesting to him, and so Dek continued to look around the tavern. Finally, his eyes fixed on a dwarf sitting by himself at a table.

Dek approached the dwarf (Thorin), still clutching his drink.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" Dek asked, "I won't be a problem. I'll even buy you something to drink. My name is Dek." Dek was starting to feel hot. The cloak would have to come off, he decided. Without waiting for a response to his question, Dek put the glass on the table, and reached to his neck to remove his cloak. The black butterfly tattoo on his upper right arm was now clearly in view, and he made no attempt to cover it in any way.

"Can I get you a drink?" Dek asked, picking his glass up in his right hand once again, and sipping from it.
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Seeking the truth, whatever the cost! - Deklitch Hardin, Elf Friend
Morden Peshirgolz
The Mystic Voice
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Dwarf, Susilgerim Clan


« Reply #54 on: May 11, 2009, 10:43:56 PM »

Morden turned to the two men before him, the one who he had called out to and the one who was seated. "If ye'll be excusin' me, lads, I just came ta ask ya not to be causing trouble." He faced the red-haired one and stared at him scurtinizingly for a moment, "and particularly don't a be threatenin' other patrons o' the inn! But, remember, this be a very accepting place, and we like to make ya feel welcome. So anyways I'll extend me warmest greetings to ya both. Now might I ask whither ye boys come, and what brings ye to our fine tavern?"

Morden's eyes flitted about the tavern for a minute as he spoke. He was feeling slightly out of synch with his surroundings for a moment, as if he were very tired. Maybe he was, he had just finished a long trip which hadn't been the easiest of travels. Still, he wished he felt a little more uplifted on such a bustling day in the tavern. He noticed two hobbits, somewhat tall for wee folk but still hobbits nonetheless, sitting together. How interesting to see little folk so far from their usual haunting places. Thorin was still sitting at the table Morden had abandoned a little while ago, but now he was joined by the young Rover who wlaked with a limp. Sad that a boy should be in pain at such a young age, thought Morden, but he bears it quite happily. Morden turned back to the two men he had addressed, as his fingers absently slipped inside his cloak. Without thinking, he pulled his baroomith out of its pocket, and began to turn it over in his hand, playing his fingers over its smooth, shining surface.



Galkhirril

"I am an elf of the Kay’rrhem. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of them, have you?"

"Aye, lass, I've heard of many elves, and much about 'em in me years. But, I still 'aven't got the idea of the difference between one kind or the other, unless they look much different." He paused and furrowed his brows for a few blinks, before relaxing his face into a look of slight bewonderment, "But ya be from Nybelmar, ya say? Eh, that be an amazing thing, lass, I don't meet many from so far off. Why, in me youth I never did see a un person from that far-off land, and I e'en thought it was naught but a myth. Strange for me old eyes to hear of such wild places, yes."

"Have you ever been to Xaramon?"

"I be afraid not, lass, I 'aven't traveled far from this here city in me life. Only a few times I been abroad, and I 'av never truly liked it. Makes for good stories, but its such a trouble, specially to these old eyes in that bright sun. But I'd love to hear any stories ya might have from such a place, lass, if ye have the time." Galkhirril coughed for a moment to clear his throat before talking a deep breath. It had been a tiring mornin' so far. He had awakened early to take care of some trouble at the trading outpost, and so was short on sleep while being a little footsore from so much walking early in the morning. He clutched his staff to him more tightly as the thought of walking rose back up in his mind.

As he sat thoughtful for a moment, the stable boy Arhung walked up to where Galkhirril was sitting. A little out of breath, the boy stopped and stuttered through a few broken phrases before pausing to recollect himself. Calming down, the young dwarf spoke, "Elder, that merchant is a giving trouble agin back up at the market. I just heard it from a few of the dwarves at the trading outpost. He's all up in a fury o'er prices or somewhat, and he's a giving what for to some o' the dwarves." Galkhirril brows furrowed as he contemplated this unfotunate situation. One of the humans who had brought a trading group into the outpost not too long had been nothing but a pain. The dwarves were about ready to kick him out, and this was likely to be the last straw. The problem was that his group was kinda large, and the dwarves could use his business. Oh, why did there have to be so many problems so early in the morning?

Now, earlier that morning, the stable boy had been tending to Buri and the other animals resting there. And so there was a number of smells that he had picked up, not greatly noticeable, but something a dog would pick up on. Sage, the dog that belonged to Airyn the sandy-haired elf, picked up on these scents. Whether it was the pig smell, or some other foreign dwarven scent, the dog became excited and jumped up on the young dwarf. Arhung lost his balance and failed to brace himself against the table, falling into Galkhirril and upsetting the elder's chair.

Tumbling haplessly over each other and onto the floor, the two dwarves made a ridiculous picture for a moment. Arhung very quickly picked himself back up, but Galkhirril did not find it so easy, "What fer did ya do that, boy!?! Oy, now I'm a gonna need some help getting back, ya should be more careful." Despite the older dwarf mild anger, Arhung could not suppress a smirk and a chuckle at the situation. Galkhirril tried to lift himself back to his feet, but only made it to a sitting position, too far away from his staff for it to be of any aid. Galkhirril gave the dwarfling an annoyed look, but still could not help but smirk a little himself. "Well, are any of ya gonna lift a poor old man off the floor, or are ya gonna keep laughing at me?"
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Malach Oronne
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« Reply #55 on: May 12, 2009, 06:13:11 AM »

"Dwarves!" Malach muttered under his breath after a long walk through the long tunnel, thinking about Livanii.  He missed her, because he had to leave her behind at the entrance to the tunnel, as a bird will never be content inside such a pit as this.  Still, at least she'll be safe with that fellow, he certainly appeared to be a good bird owner, as he already cared for more than a dozen due his study of the creatures.  Malach still remembered finding the bird, so many years back in a mine...  Still reminiscing, he headed toward the sign that described a tavern in the side of the tunnel.  He stopped outside and looked around. 

The tunnel, despite being the creation of dwarves, was a total marvel to Malach.  Even with his understanding of caves, mines, and even tunnels, Malach was at a loss as to how the dwarves were able to build this. 

"Well, we're here!  The Kann Kemruhnt, as you asked!" Malach said to the trader he was escorting to the inn.  He was thanked by the trader, whose name he couldn't remember, despite traveling over a week with him, and was handed a small pouch of coin.  He peeked inside the bag as the trader went in, and it looked accurate so he put it on his belt and resumed his study of the tunnel and its structural build, or what appears to be the lack thereof!

"They got none of the support structures we used back in the Burning Mountains!  How do they hold up such a big ol' tunnel with nothing supporting none o' these walls?  Huh, probably some witchcraftery or what-not,"  he grumbled.  However, after examining the poor carpentry on the tavern itself, he shook his head and just laughed...  So, they can dig in the dirt, but can't even place windows right, or make simple wall repairs!  Still chuckling, he headed into the Kann Kemruhnt...

The delicious smell of baking bread, the bittersweet aroma of freshly poured mead, and the stench of sweat and bile of surrounding dwarves, traders, and, even a few hobbits engulfed him as he walked through the door. Glow of the candles and lanterns lit the establishment, and a fire on another wall gave warmth to the entire room. 

Malach looked down into the pouch on his belt, and counted out a few coins, making sure he had enough for a room and a meal for the evening, and he walked forward up to the bar, his bulk making him feel entirely out of place in the whole place.  He pulled up a stool to sit on, and turned around, hearing the roaring laughter of dwarves all around.  He watched the trader he escorted speak with a cloaked man, and then stalk off upstairs, leaving a small bag of gold at the table. 

He then noticed a keen-eyed, red-headed young man who didn't look old enough to even be in the tavern watching a gambling game among a group of dwarves, which he, too, turned to look at.  Not interested in wasting any of his time or money in the probably-rigged games, he turned and attempted to signal a chef from the door through the kitchen.  Blasted dwarves...  He sighed deeply and tried to keep the disdain from his voice when he spoke:

"OK, dwarf," he spat the title given. "Gimme a pint o' watered Apple Ale."  he said gruffly.  "Also, a hunk o' that Grilled goat, though yer better hold the onn’garg beans, I never like eatin' them any.   Lastly, I'd like a breddengrain bun, but ye better not put any honey on it!  And just hurry up with it!"

The flustered dwarf turned with an indignant expression and went to fetch Malach's meal.  After a short while, he returned with it, and Malach watched the scenes of the tavern as he ate...

He watched a conversation between what appeared to be a stable boy and an old dwarf, and once he saw the latter fall down next to a table, knocking another older dwarf out of his chair, he, too, nearly fell off of his stool with laughter. 

He stood up and laughed at the old dwarf lying on the floor, taking a huge swig of his ale.
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Salena smith
Enthusiastic Swordswoman
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Human, Centoraurian


« Reply #56 on: May 12, 2009, 10:20:15 AM »

 Watching a few people enter the tavern and feeling the warmth from the fire Salena noticed an older man walk in with another gentleman. The gentleman walked upstairs while the other took at seat at the bar.  "He doesn't look like he fits in around here but then again not many people do," thinking to herself.  Just then a loud thud sound was heard and an elderly dwarf had fallen off his seat.   The man sitting stood up and laughed at the man while taking a gulp of his brew.

Going over to the elderly man on the floor Salena glared at the man standing laughing.
"Don't you have any respect or a heart for that matter?" asked Salena in an indignant tone of voice.     Bending down to help the dwarf up off the floor, looked at the man an asked, "Are you okay? Too bad the floor wasn't made of soft snow."   Chuckling to herself she hoped the man could laugh at her not so funny joke.  Salena was never good at telling jokes but always like to make people laugh and put a smile on someones face.

"How can someone just stand there and laugh?" thought Salena. 
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I am and always will be me. I have my faults and mood swings so if you cant handle me at my worst then you dont deserve me at my best. :) Salena's CD
Malach Oronne
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« Reply #57 on: May 12, 2009, 11:41:38 AM »

Malach, who had again begun to drink his watered ale, lowered his mug and looked at the young woman who had spoken.

"Don't you have any respect or a heart for that matter?"

Malach, caught off guard first by the lady's sudden admonishment, then by her beauty, he stammered then attempted to formulate a response.

"Well- I uh...  Well, he surely deserved that, the bloody dog...  Runnin' 'bout...  Dumb boy..."  He looked down at the dwarf, suddenly ashamed.  However, he just glared at the old man and returned to his brew. 

"Aw, come on!"  He told himself.  "It's just some little girl tryin' to be all heroic, helping some old, weak-legged dwarf!"  Still, the look on her face and the words she spoke left a bitter taste in his mouth.  He looked over at the dwarf across the counter and asked for his bill.  After paying, he looked back at the young woman who seemed to be trying to cheer up the old dwarf.  He threw his drink down on the table, a bit of the brew sloshing out onto the bar.  He looked down at his uneaten meal, no longer hungry.

After receiving multiple glares from various tables, Malach went and paid for his room, which he went upstairs and entered immediately.  After entering the room, he realized his legs were weak and began to feel numb.  He paced back and forth across his room to shake the uneasiness, his mind swimming in various emotions, anger at the young woman who had rebuked him, and shame, though he could not really identify why he would feel it.

He looked around at the shabby little room and then down at his feet.  He closed his eyes and sat down onto his bed, with a strange, twisting burning sensation in his gut.  He removed his belt and jacket, and set them on the floor next to his bed.  He kicked his boots off and rested his head on the not-so-soft pillow laid out for the tavern's guests.  He then went to sleep, uneasy dreams invading his rest, the infuriated voice of the girl still hauning his mind.
Logged

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Airyn
The Worrywort
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Gender: Female
Posts: 256


Elf, Kay'rrhem


« Reply #58 on: May 12, 2009, 07:51:15 PM »

Airyn, comfortable and relaxed in her seat, watched as a younger dwarf, younger than the one across from her that is, came to whisper something to the elder. She looked on with a slight furrow to her brow, wondering what all of this hubbub was about. With a slight bow of her head, Airyn’s ears prickled as she listened to the dwarf’s hurried words. A merchant in trouble, did he say? Or was he causing trouble? A very small but impish grin crossed her lips at the thought of merchants and markets, remembering times of boredom followed by the rude growls of a trader who didn’t enjoy Sage biting his foot, and a spontaneous flood occurring shortly after…

The next roll of events happened oh, so quickly. Within a blink of one eye, Sage had dug his claws into Airyn’s foot and had leaped onto the momentarily bemused dwarf who had come to share the news of the merchant, whoever he or she was. A loud gasp escaped her lips as the newcomer fell into the elderly dwarf who had retained a thoughtful expression until he was knocked so abruptly from his chair.

Stumbling out of her seat, she fell awkwardly to her knees and took the squirming dog into her arms. Clamping the dog to her chest with the strong limbs of her upper body, Airyn shuffled closer to the two dwarves, one already on his feet. She had to suppress the urge to apologise more times than what was necessary.

Then, out of nowhere came a distressed woman with hair the colour of the trees in Nybelmar during Autumn. Airyn struggled with Sage in her arms, she decided ruefully that her attentions should be toward restraining the canine instead of letting him run loose, endangering the dwarves once more. The woman with the brown hair bent to her knees to assist the elder whilst the other dwarf stood with a comical gleam in his eyes. What could possibly be so funny? She thought, however the dwarf on the floor seemed to be making light of the situation. It appeared that her long tide of apology was no longer necessary, though she insisted with herself that one will definitely suffice.

Though no words were spoken, the elfess could read a spiteful glare to this woman’s expression. “Come now,” Airyn tried to juggle Sage whilst extending a hand to place on the woman’s shoulder. “Let’s not exchange harsh words here. It is clear that this man is not hurt, so why don’t we all sit down for a nice breakfast?”

She turned to the elder and took her hand off the woman’s shoulder to press it to his hand. “I apologise for my dog’s misbehavior. He get’s quite excited sometimes, you see?”
Logged

Jenna Silverbirch
Wandering Storyteller
Approved Character
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Gender: Female
Posts: 562


Hafling, Dogodan


« Reply #59 on: May 13, 2009, 06:44:09 AM »

The feyling, Pline, didn’t seem put off by Jenna’s momentary lapse in manners, so she shook his outstretched hand and gave him a warm smile as he sat. “Jenna’s my name. Of the Dogodan shire, though there’s few round these parts who’ve heard of it.”
“You haven't seen any other folk with instruments about, have you?" Her smile became a grin as she saw the shape of the mandolin, still distinctive beneath the wrappings. As she was about to answer his question, the dwarven brew mistress arrived at their table, carrying a mug and a steaming plate of delicious looking fish."A mug o' ale and a plate o' steamed mithanjor fer ya lad, that'd be 7 sans. I hope ya enjoy it!"
 
Jenna muttered a gruff thanks and handed her the money. There was a strange kind of satisfaction in being mistaken for a boy, without actually deceiving anyone, so she kept her voice low. Though Pline would, of course, have been able to recognise a female hobbit, she was in no hurry for the rest of the tavern to do so.
She began eating straight away, murmuring in pleasure at the fresh taste of the unusually large mithanjor  and biting great chunks of the rootweep.
“That’s some good fish!” she said to the brew mistress. “Complements to your chef. You dwarves know how to cook a good, hearty meal, that’s certain. Some of these fancy dishes big folk serve up- it makes my stomach weep.” She chuckled to herself, glancing up to see Pline’s reaction.
"Would like something, lad, ta make ya more comf'table? A drink or a meal maybe? I assures ya, this is a fine tavern that ye'll be sure to enjoy, both its food and its company."

While Pline pondered her question, music began somewhere across the tavern. She looked up to see the giant of a dwarf playing what was unmistakeably a baroomith. “Ha!” she chuckled again. “There, Pline, that’s one music player. And I’m another. I’ve got my lute with me now, and I can strum a decent enough tune, and my singin’ll cover any mistakes. So why don’t I finish this fine fish and then see about asking that dwarf if he’d have the grace to accompany us in some tune to rouse this tavern?”

There were a few more moments of peace, when a bark and crash made her start. The stable boy had fallen on top of the ancient dwarf, and it seemed the one of the elf women’s dogs was to blame. Jenna watched, a little amused, a little concerned, as the brutish man laughed at the spectacle, only to be told off by the young human woman, and finally as the elf herself struggled with her dog and tried to apologise.
“Now that coulda ended in a fight.” she said to Pline, nodding towards the stairs up which the human had disappeared. “’Specially with that unpleasant fellow. Reckon they need a hand?” Looking over again, it seemed the youth and ancient dwarf were unharmed, only flustered. “That or a song to soothe the nerves, I reckon.”
« Last Edit: May 14, 2009, 12:47:22 AM by Jenna Silverbirch » Logged

The world’s so full of wonder, it’d be a shameful waste to live without seeing as much of it as you could’ve.
Jenna Silverbirch -  Burrow by the Sea - Jenna's hobbit hole
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