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Nwyfre Hammershaft
04/Jan/2010, 12:27 PM
http://file.walagata.com/w/kimli/the_pub_club.png

Thanks to Drifa for the Banner</font></font>


As you walk the streets of Erebor you come to an open place right in the center of the mountain. Its the Open Air Pub! It was the first of many things to be commissioned by King Dain II in 2941 after the Battle of Five Armies. It holds a fair reputation as one of the greatest pubs east of the great sea. As you cross the pub you hear a loud CRASH and you ducked for cover. Looking around to see what happened you notice that none of the dwarves in the pub seem to have noticed the sound. You hear the noise again, and you think that the noise is coming from beneath your feet. You head to the bartender and ask him if he knows what that sound was. He grunts a yes and then points to a door you hadnt noticed before. As you approach the door you see a very old, very dirty brass sign that reads:


THE PUB CLUB</font>

Est. When Dwarves discovered Ale</font>

You open the door and see a set of winding stairs, which you decide to go down. At the bottom of this stair case is a dwarf in a bright red vest. He says to you quite plainly: Spectators go up the stairs on the right, Participants go down the stairs on the left. Curious and eager to know what in Erus name is going on beneath the mountain, you go down the stairs on your left. At the bottom of these stairs is a grizzled, ancient looking dwarf, when he talks its more of a bark. And he asks you three questions

VARKIN!!! And Welcome to the Pub Club. This thread is an IC Competitive Pub Brawl, when you first sign up you must fill out the form below to participate. Also you must follow ALL of the rules of the club, or risk being exiled

Da Rules o Da Club
1.Anybody caught sober will be thrown out.
2.Anybody caught with a deadly weapon will be thrown out.
3.The Bouncers (GM/ Ref/ Thread Runner whatever) word is law.
4.Anything found in the pub can be used as a weapon.
5.Yes that includes chairs, tables, mugs, anything you can lay your drunk little hands on.
6.NO GODMODING.
7.ALL POSTS ARE IC, OOCs will be whited out or you will be thrown out and beaten
8.All races/kingdoms/areas are welcome to participate.
9.Please do not use the color #990000 as it will be the color of the
GM/Ref/Thread Runner type person... Me
10.When you first join the Pub Club you must sign the waiver:


I , agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is . I am intoxicated.

Signed,.

You will be assigned to a team based on your color choice, please choose from the seven main colors in a rainbow. Your team is who you compete with against the other teams. You will be given a shirt of the corresponding team color. When the teams are filled out a little more, I will put team rosters in this post. Good luck, and may the Valar watch over you...

Members</font>
Hermod
Silver Oak</font>
Idesinholde</font>
Balfur
Anteor
Calenaldawen
Afor
Thor Atar</font>
Silk
Ironfist
Morwyn</font>
Drifa</font>
Queen Nerwen</font>Edited by: Nwyfre Hammershaft

Hermod
04/Jan/2010, 01:09 PM
I Hermod, agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my country. My favorite colour is green</font>. I am intoxicated.

Signed, Hermod.

Idesinholde
04/Jan/2010, 08:58 PM
“I Idesin Boraxa Brealgare agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is grey. I am intoxicated.

Signed Idesin Boraxa <STRIKE>Brefa</STRIKE> Brealgare .”

<DIV ="WebWizRTE" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1">

Balfur
05/Jan/2010, 08:21 AM
I, Balfur,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is this ink blue. I am intoxicated.



Signed,
Balfur Belvainson
</font></font>

Sil
05/Jan/2010, 12:15 PM
I, Silendra,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is red. I am intoxicated.
I have written this on a napkin because I couldn't find any paper. I have also written it in rum. Incidentally, Idesin, grey is not a colour of the rainbow, but you're drunk, so fair enough. </font>


Signed,
</font>http://i58.photobucket.com/albums/g255/ormeneleve/sigjpg.jpg
</font>

Anteor
06/Jan/2010, 10:21 AM
<DIV marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1" ="WebWizRTE">I Anteor, agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color isthis one . I am intoxicated.

Signed, AnteorEdited by: Anteor

Drifa
06/Jan/2010, 11:03 AM
I Drifa,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is indigo (#330066)</font></font></font>. I am intoxicated and I can burp the Tengwar alphabet, backwards!


Signed,
http://file.walagata.com/w/kimli/drifa.png
"


</font></font>

Nwyfre Hammershaft
06/Jan/2010, 03:11 PM
OOC ALL(WOW! I wasn't expecting so many so quickly... I'm gonna go ahead and wait until Saturday (1/9/10) to see how many more people we get, and then I'll divide ya'll into teams and we'll get right into it! If you'd like go ahead and RP a response to my post IC please</font>)

As you each hand you permission slips to the old grizzled dwarf at the bottom of the stairs, he motions you to come on in and take a seat, where you are greeted by a much younger dwarf.

This dwarf is wearing a blood red kilt, and a matching vest, with a silver shirt underneath. He is also wearing a belt that has several small throwing hammers tucked into it. You realize that this dwarf must be the Bouncer Dwarf. He clears his throat as you settle in and begins to talk: "Alright, welcome to The Pub Club, my name is Mister Sir, and you can call me... Mister Sir. We have alot of folks here today who want to get into the pub. You all know the rules, so this is where we'll begin. Please turn in all weapons now, you'll find red buckets of all shapes and sizes by the door you came in. Anybody who keeps a deadly weapon on them will be denied entrance into the arena." he paused for a just a moment before saying "Well go on!"</font>

Alaron Alcadir
06/Jan/2010, 04:27 PM
I, Ironfist (NPC),
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is red. I am intoxicated.



Signed,
Moin Ironfist

(I hope NPCs are allowed?</font>)
</font></font>

Edited by: Alaron Alcadir

Queen Nerwen
06/Jan/2010, 07:20 PM
I Nerwen, agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The
P.C. is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or
any other such damage to my person that may happen to me while I am
present in the P.C. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my
country. My favorite colour is PURPLE</font>. I am intoxicated.



Signed, Nerwen Meneldur.

Nwyfre Hammershaft
06/Jan/2010, 11:51 PM
OOC Alaron/Ironfist (Of course! NPC's are perfectly fine, but Rohirrim are also welcome here, we're not picky lol!</font>)

Drifa
08/Jan/2010, 11:33 AM
Drifa listens to Mister Sir, her eyes on his kilt. His blood red kilt is the grandest she has ever seen. She has a red skort, but it is nothing compared to this brilliant colored kilt. She reminds herself to ask Mister Sir where he got it. Although, she is intoxicated and will probably forget. Removing her small axe from its place on her belt, she staggers towards the red buckets with it, swinging it from side to side recklessly. Standing before the buckets, her head weaving, she looks at them and begins to sing loudly.
"Red bucket red bucket red bucket red kilt,
lets hope that the Ale doesn't get spilt.
Lets hope that the Ale doesn't get spilt,
in the red bucket or on the red kilt .
Whoa ho ho ho ho, la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaa"
</font>

Edited by: Drifa

Sil
08/Jan/2010, 11:38 AM
Silendra, naturally, was already drunk. In fact, she had no idea how she had gotten to the Lonely Mountain at all, but it would have made an interesting story, doubtless, had she been able to remember. As it was, she wasted several minutes attempting to hand her slip of paper to a garden gnome she had discovered before realising that she was actually meant to hand it to the grizzled, red-kilted dwarf standing patiently (or not so patiently) at the foot of the stairs, which Silendra promptly fell down.
</font>
She got up and smiled at him in a sweet and unfocused way.

"Well hello, Mister Sir," said Silendra, beaming. "Of course I shall give you all my weapons. Don't mind me, I may be here some time."

</font>Drunk or not Silendra had had years of practice; so actually, she was able to remove the horsebows strapped to each thigh, the two daggers in each boot, the dirk-and-short-sword combination at her waist, the finger-knife bound to her shoulder, the spare dagger in her belt, and finally the knife in her bodice in quite a short amount of time.
</font>
It couldn't do to be too safe.
</font>

Balfur
08/Jan/2010, 12:41 PM
The Mister Sir is a little of nuisance to Balfur. He is talking like a stupid bouncer. Balfur hates stupid bouncers, because they are stupid and bouncers. The dwarf doesn't feel too sharp and doesn't know what is going on, but he feels that sitting on a chair is not the way to go today, or night. He slips out of his seat, sliding onto the floor, during which he looses his jacket. On the floor he rests for a moment.

When he gets up, he exclaims: "I'm uhlive!" and glares at his jacket. "Ooo, mister Sirrah, ye might wanna check that out. It's a bloody, deadly weapon! Look!" With a twist and a turn he swirls around, during which he grabs the jacket from his old seat and at the end of which he strangles a random stranger, who is acting very peculiar indeed in the dark corner of the room. Glaring with his unfocused sight at the long, thin stranger, he whispers in its ears: "how do you feel now, mister petty thief! Hah! Errr... why are you wearing so many coats?"

Balfur loosens his strangling grip and throws his jacket in one of the red buckets, takes of his hood and puts it on the freshly strangled hatstand. Then he took a dagger out of its little scabbard and let it fall into one of the smaller buckets. "All right, I'm ready." He mumbled and waited till the thing would start.</font>

Alaron Alcadir
08/Jan/2010, 02:35 PM
Ironfist grinned blearily at the Dwarf who had just taken the permission slip from him. "Ain't I seen you sum'ere be'ore?" He peered closely at the Dwarf's face, who looked back calmly before pushing him into the room roughly. Ironfist stumbled in surprise and ended up sprawling on the floor, right beside a vivid red skirt.
</font>
</font>For some time, he admired this wondrous thing, before getting to his feet, not too smoothly. "Mister Sir!!" He exclaimed loudly, throwing his arms around the young Dwarf. "Oooh, Mister Sir, why'd oo run away from poor old Moweeeeen!" He wailed. Before Mister Sir could actually do anything in retaliation though, he stumbled away and leaned against a chair, weeping quietly.
</font>
</font>The mention of weapons drew his attention. "Weapons?" He suddenly asked, looking up, his eyes blazing. "WEAPONS?!!" He thrust his right hand into the air and waved it madly. "Do ye call this a weapon then?" An iron gauntlet formed a fist where his right hand should have been. It was fused to his arm, as could be seen by the burn marks. "I cood smush your head with this, boyo! You want me to cut my arm off? Ageeen?!" He roared.
</font>
(Nwyfre: Thanks! But I think I'll play a Dwarf for now.</font>)

Calenaldawen
08/Jan/2010, 03:57 PM
I Calenaldawen</span>,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is blue. I am intoxicated.



Signed, Calenaldawen .
</font></font>

Áfor
10/Jan/2010, 05:31 PM
(I think I may be late, but I hope it's OK if I jump in</font>)

Oooowwww... that kilt or skirt or whatever that shorty was wearing was hard on the eyes! for groaned, trying to decide how many of the skirted shorties there were, but decided not to bother. Instead, he looked around the stink hole he found himself in, and wondered where on Arda he was. Given the amount of Dwarves, clearly not home. It was as far as he got in his considerations, before someone demanded he hand over some slip of paper. Apparently, he had missed him at the door. Scribbling illegibly on the scrap of paper, for tried getting it right, or at least close to right, but was not entirely certain of the success of his mission.</font>

I for,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is bluuuuuuu. I am intoxicated.



Signed, hmmmm, can't quite remember, can we do this tomorrow?</font></font>

When he was done, he swayed gently towards the buckets the Dwarf, called Mister Sir, apparently, had indicated. Hand over all weapons? Well it did seem like a reasonable idea, he was far too drunk to operate a sword safely. Unceremoniously dropping it, and a dagger, into a random bucket, he turned back to the take a look at the gathered crowd. It was interesting, to say the least.</font>

Morwyn
10/Jan/2010, 05:51 PM
A Bub Club! What on earth was a Bub Club! Morwyn staggered closer to the rules and squinted very, very hard in order to read them. Ah! A PUB club! Still feeling a small amount of disappointment at not being able to sign up for a Bub Club, Morwyn took a first valiant attempt at signing the waiver.
I, Morwyn, agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The PC is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my person as may happen to me while I am present in the PC. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favourite colour is red. I am intoxicated.
Signed, Morwyn.
At that, Morwyn smiled victoriously and joined the rest of the crowd.

Hermod
10/Jan/2010, 07:47 PM
Listening as the bouncer gave his prep-talk, Hermod pulled a face slightly at the need to remove all lethal weapons, that was just taking the fun out of the whole show surely? Sighing to himself he found a bin to call his own and started disarming. The slegdehammer went first, then the throwing axes. Belt knife, spare belt knife, emergency backup belt knife and spare emergancy backup belt knife followed after a moment before he croched down to remove the two blades concealed in his boots. Returning to his chair he muttered something about "flaming pansies in skirts" before grumpily taking a seat again and waiting for the event to kick off properly</font>

Oak
12/Jan/2010, 06:39 PM
In stumbled a Silver Shire Oak with drool coming out of her hole mouth. She stank of a entire keg of ale. Even her roots were soaked in the stuff. "Bup Bub?" She slurred as she nearly tumbled down the winding stairs.

</font>I Silver Oak</font> ,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is green</font>. I am intoxicated.



Signed, Silver Oak</font> .</font></font>


Edited by: Silver Oak

Thor Atar
12/Jan/2010, 07:17 PM
I Thor, agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is blue. I am intoxicated.

Signed,
Thor.

Nwyfre Hammershaft
13/Jan/2010, 02:20 PM
Once all those assembles had drunkenly staggered to the back of the room and deposited their weapons, Mister Sir said "Alright! Sit down!", the elderly sign-up dwarf from the first room had brought Mister Sir a list of everybody's name's and their chosen colors. He studied the list for a minute and he went through a door at the front of the room and came back out holding shirts in four colors. "Settle down there now!" he barked at the crowd. "I have here your team shirts. Some of you will be assigned to a team that you might not have chosen due to a lack of participants in your color. I have here RED</font>, BLUE</font>, YELLOW</font>, and GREEN</font>. When I call out you name please come up and get your shirt, here we go:"


Red Team
Silendra
Moin Ironfist
Morwyn</font>

Blue Team
Balfur
Anteor
Calenaldawen</font>

Yellow Team
Idesinholde
Thor Atar
Drifa
Queen Nerwen</font>

Green Team
Hermod
Silver Oak
Afor</font>

"When you enter the Pub, please make sure that you are wearing you team shirt on your chest." Mister Sir demonstrates this, and points to his chest. "This is the area where you must display your shirt. (In other words please post in your team color. Yellow team please post in black or gold, our eyes thank you.</font>) Now please follow me..."

He leads those assembled into the room he retrieved the shirts from. The room was very large, and the walls were lined with benches and hooks in the seven colors of the rainbow. You are told to take a seat under you color and put on your shirts now. You notice that there are four doors, not including the one you just came through, leading out of this room. At the head of this hall, there is a large chalkboard with a roster on it. Mister Sir walks up to the chalkboard and writes in team names.

"Today's matches will pit the Blue Team</font> vs. the Green Team</font> in Pub 1, and the Red Team</font> vs. the Yellow Team</font>, in Pub 2. When your team is ready you may enter your respective pubs. You will find a table of your color, please take a seat and wait for the bell..." He leaves the room, leaving all the brawlers to their task at hand...Edited by: Nwyfre Hammershaft

Alaron Alcadir
14/Jan/2010, 05:50 AM
NPC Ironfist

He subsided into an angry rumble when Mister Sir made no response to his demands. He brooded sullenly in his corner, muttering foully under his breath. A tiny, sober part of his brain commended him. His iron fist would give him an advantage in a brawl, especially given the terms of the contract. But, at the moment, he was more worried about why Mister Sir seemed to elongate and shrink alternately if he turned his head back and forth.

He listened blearily to what Sir had to say about shirts. All he understood was that he would be Red. Fair enough. It was his favourite colour. He followed the Dwarf to another room and stared in wonder all the multi-coloured benches. He played casually with the shirt in his hand until someone kindly stuffed him into it. He looked around. Who were to be his team-mates in this brawl?
</font>

Anteor
14/Jan/2010, 09:29 AM
<DIV =WebWizRTE leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginheight="1" marginwidth="1">Scowling slightly at being told to "settle down", Anteor pricked up his ears and quietly supped his ale as Nywfe appeared and explain the way things would work. Having found out he was to be a member of Blue team, Anteor looked across the room to see if he could find the other two dwarves with whom he would be fighting. Pleased enough at their appereance(they looked vicious enough)Anteor began flexing his muscles and grunting at anyone who dared catch his eye. It had been a long time indeed since he had seen any fighting but now the moment was at hand he couldn't wait to get started and didn't fancy the green team's chances much. "Let's give 'em hell" he said to his team mates. This would be fun.

Drifa
14/Jan/2010, 10:27 AM
There are two Mister Sir's in front of her as she makes her way up to the front of the room to get her team shirt. Two Mister Sir's make her dizzy. Squinting an eye, she concentrates on his red kilt as she grabs her shirt. She grabs a little to hard though, and lungs forward. Her arms fly up into the air as she attempts to regain her balance, which she does, but only just. Standing there for a moment, swaying, she can still hear over the drunken buzz Mister Sir barking out instructions. Soon a group is following him into another room. She hangs with the crowd, leaning on a few other drunks, letting them carry her forward. They enter a large room with benches and hooks of different colors. She hears Mister Sir telling them to take a seat under their team color. Moving towards the benches, she flops down, not particularly caring if she is under the right color hook or not. She doesn't hear the rest of what is said. Her head falls forward her chin onto her chest and she is soon snoring drunkenly into her beard.

* Is this gold?</font>*
</font>

Sil
14/Jan/2010, 10:34 AM
As far as Silendra could make out, the dwarf was pointing busily to some chests, and then his shirt. Or something like that. Why they were expected to get undressed and wear these shirts Silendra had no idea and there was no point in asking silly questions when there was stripping to be done, of course. The red shirts even matched her ragged skirts well enough. Then, because she was lost, she wandered vaguely into Pub 1 instead, where, as was usual for a pub, there was a bar. Hmm. Silendra shrugged, wandered over to the bar, and with the practice of tavern-wenching for many long years, began to pull herself a pint whilst she waited.</font>

Oak
14/Jan/2010, 10:44 AM
Silver Oak scowled at the idea of having to put a shirt on. How would she get it on over her crown? She waddled up to the blurry blob that was Mister Sir and took the biggest green shirt thing he had. She stared at it. and waddled back to the bench. How was she going to get into it? The idea finally occurred to her foggy crown that she had to step into it. She missed the neck of the shirt twice and nearly fell over when she tried to slip a root into it. Once one root was through the hole on the shirt getting all 7 of the other roots through was easier. She pulled the shirt halfway up her trunk. Then it stopped, stuck at her back limb coming out at a right angle from her trunk.. She reached back to rip it open. That was when she found the buttons! It took her a few minutes to unfasten the brass buttons, then rebutton the thing over her leafy bosom She fumbled with the buttons buttoning it lopsided. It was a rumpled mess by the time she was finished--but the Oak finally had a shirt over her bosom and branches sticking out of the sleeves.

Silver Oak tried to remember what Pub she was supposed to go. She followed a green shirted Dwarf to Pub One and settled on a study bench.
</font>

Calenaldawen
14/Jan/2010, 03:36 PM
When Calena got handed a blue shirt, she put it on while staring at the four doors leading from the room. This was one big pub! Or rather, many little pubs. Well no, that wasn't correct either. She hadn't seen into the four rooms yet so she couldn't say anything about their size. But what did that matter, it was special for a pub to have four pubs in it and that was what the end of it. Thinking that this thinking wasn't at all good for her slightly intoxicated brain, which obviously led to complicated confusion for a moment as she was still thinking, Calena marched off to Pub 1. Now the reasonable part of her couldn't help but thinking: "Oh, snap!" What the Angband was she doing here? This was a pub brawl! There was meant to be lots of pulling hair and tugging at limbs and dodging fists and.... well, general fighting. And fighting was well... fighty. Maybe she should've paid more attention to the little print on the sign. 'Pub Club' sounded like plenty of fun, the 'brawl' part not so much though. Gah, why hadn't she used her brain cells when signing that silly piece of paper? After all, that shoudl've been warning enough to her. But there was no way out now. And anyway, sulking wasn't the way to go. There was a team who needed her. Or rather, she needed her team if she wanted to survive this crawl, brawl, whatever. So the Rider took a seat next to Anteor. At another table was a tree. "Well, this is going to be interesting, huh?" She spoke to Anteor. "Pity I can't see a fireplace in here." This she meant more as a joke though, as the idea of her burning an ent sent cold shivers down her back.</font>

Edited by: Calenaldawen

Anteor
15/Jan/2010, 01:07 PM
<DIV =WebWizRTE leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginheight="1" marginwidth="1">Attempting to banish such thoughts as "this is ridiculous" and "how many kinds of fool do I look in this", Anteor stood in the corner with his team mates when an unfamiliar voice (Calenaldawen) spoke. "Well this is going t be interesting huh," Nodding Anteor grinned with a slight hint of malice in his eyes "Indeed. Especially if we do as I intend and beat the living daylights out of them". "Pity I can't see a fire," Calenaldawen said, nodding towards the Ents who had just entered "True, but I got my axe and it's freshly sharpened. We'll have wood for our Mountain Fire before this session is out. So tell me, have you any experience in these matters?"

Balfur
15/Jan/2010, 07:05 PM
He could not really see the difference between his new shirt and his old shirt, but apparently there was. Frowning, one of his favourite past-times even when he wasn't under influence by alcoholic beverages, at this so-called team-shirt he put it on. He succeeded on his third attempt and looked around, eyeing those around him triumphantly. He sat down on his chair again and tried to focus on listening to that mister sir. He found if very hard and eventually he could not care. He followed the blue-shirted team-members of his to the pub where they were supposed to be fighting the greenies, or was it the reds? Balfur really did not know and really did not care, the only thing he really cared about was for another drink and someone was going to have huge problem if he wasn't served soon. "I will smack the first thing that comes to my mind," he told himself aloud. "Be it wee hobbit, pantsie elf or bloody orc. Let them come!"</font></font>

Nwyfre Hammershaft
16/Jan/2010, 02:03 AM
OOC Drifa/ Yellow Team (use color=gold in the brackets.</font>)

Mister Sir found himself confronted by a very drunk Moin Ironfist</font>. As the steel-handed dwarf shook his fist at the the unfrightened Mister Sir, and the bouncer dwarf laughed as he asked Moin</font> to quickly remove the prosthetic hand weapon. "I have a solution for you my good dwarf," the Pub Club Officiant said. He disappeared for just a second, back through the door that lead to the foyer. When he reappeared he had another metal fist in his hand. Mister Sir presented this to the legendary Ironfist</font>, and said simply "The Battle of Five Armies made you famous, Moin</font>, when we brought the Pub Club back to Erebor, I had this made just for you, as I thought you would be joining us sometime in the near future." The new fitting was made of Mithril, and it was a closed hand, with an engraving on the back of the fist. The engraving said:


Property of the Pub Club
Commissioned by Mister Sir for the use of
the great Moin Ironfist.
Not to be removed from The Pub Club.

Just then Mister Sir noticed a dwarf trying to smuggle an axe into Pub 1. The officiant seemed to magically disappear from the spot where he had been standing, and popped up next to Anteor</font>. He cleared his throat and said calmly "You need to hand that over laddy." and before Anteor</font> had the chance to do anything Mister Sir roared "NOW!". He said it with such force that it made Anteor</font> dropped the axe, with seemingly super dwarf agility, Mister Sir bent down and picked up the axe off the floor. "You had your chance son, now comes the embarrassing part." Mister Sir whistled and three much younger dwarves came through the entrance silently, picked Anteor</font> up by the arms and legs and carried him out of the pub...

Back in the locker room, the three dwarves led Anteor</font> over to a patch of what seemed to be solid stone. Mister Sir got right up to the wall, whispered a password, and a door magically appeared. The dwarves carrying Anteor</font> quickly and quietly passed through the doorway, followed by Mister Sir.

In the secret room there was a table and two chairs. Anteor</font> was stripped down to his birthday suit by the three dwarves, pushed into a chair, and then shackled there to the table. They continued to search his clothes for more weapons and once Mister Sir was satisfied he began an interrogation of the dwarf... "Why did you bring this axe into Pub 1?" Mister Sir slammed the weapon in question as loudly as he could upon the table. "Who was it you were trying to cause fatal damage to? What about the rules did you not understand upon entering the Pub Club? Didn't I also request that ALL deadly weapons be placed in the red buckets at the back of the Locker Chamber before I handed out shirts and assigned you to a Pub?" the questions went on like this for several minutes...

After Anteor</font> answered the questions Mister Sir nodded to the younger dwarf bouncers who unshackled him from the table and allowed him to dress himself. Leaving behind ALL of Anteor</font> confiscated weapons, the dwarves led him out of the secret room, and back into Pub 1 where he had been removed from... Mister Sir had the three dwarves plop the dwarf into a chair at the Blue Table</font>. The Head Dwarf bent down and whispered into Anteors</font> ear, If this EVER happens again, you will be removed from the Pub Club, and sent to the dungeons of Erebor..."

The dwarves return to the locker room, and suddenly from the center chamber comes a loud


Ding!!!</font>

The Brawls have Begun!!!

OOC Anteor (Anteor, I regret to inform you that you were caught with a deadly weapon in the Pub Club after being asked to turn in all weapons. Yes, I did godmode your character, but only to remind you of the consiquences of this action. I must thank you for giving me the opportunity to make an example of you. You are more than welcome to continue playing if you so choose, but from now on please be aware of the rules of the Pub Club ok? This might have just been an oversight on your part so this is a warning. Next time Mister Sir will be forced to remove you from the Club... I do enjoy reading your posts, so please don't make me have to do that, k? Thanks!</font>)

Morwyn
16/Jan/2010, 11:23 AM
Morwyn </font>stumbled into the correct pub after several minutes of standing in the incorrect pub and wondering where everyone was. She acknowledged her teammates and took a seat.</font>
</font>And it turned out she was just in time! As soon as she had sat down an almighty DING! sounded, indicating that something exciting was about to happen. "Oooh!" she exclaimed.</font>
</font>Eyes wide, she surveyed the scene before her and waited for everyone else to do something. But then, as if she could not contain her anticipation for one more second, she lunged forwards towards a yellow-shirted opponent (</font>Queen Nerwen</font>) and attempted a slap. "Is this what I am supposed to do?" she turned back from her foe and inquired of her teammates. </font>

Alaron Alcadir
16/Jan/2010, 12:07 PM
NPC Ironfist

He was dumbfounded by Mister Sir's extreme generosity. "This...this is an honour." He mumbled, feeling tears cloud his eyes. Why, he had had no idea that his deeds at the Battle had made such an impression on younger Dwarves. Tears streamed down his face as he gazed in adoration at the mithril fist. Tenderly, he set it aside for a moment and turned to his iron gauntlet. With great effort, he loosened the screws that tightened the thing around his arm. Slowly, he pulled it off.

The gnarled, twisted, destroyed thing that was left of his right arm, he cradled in his lap, away from others' probing sights. Softly, he picked up the mithril fist and put it on. A sigh escaped his lips. This was going to be amazing.

The bell rang. Ironfist looked about wildly. What was he supposed to do now? He stumbled towards the Yellow Team, nodding at the lass (Morwyn) who was apparently his teammate. He came upon a snoring Dwarf (Drifa) and hesitated, before poking him in the chest. "Hey." He said in a loud whisper. "Wake up. We're supposed to be fighting."

</font>

Edited by: Alaron Alcadir

Oak
16/Jan/2010, 12:45 PM
Silver Oak heard the DING! "Now wots that," she drooled. Then a voice roared. Let the Brawling begin! Silver Oak picked up a table in her branches and circled to room looking for the first blue blob to slam. It didn't quite work. Her roots tangled around a bench and she fell smashing the table into pieces. The fragments were still caught in her canopy. She plucked out large flat piece and looked for the first blue blur. She swung and didn't feel it hit anything. She felt something smash and splinter against her backside. Did somebody hit her or did she walk into something again? The room was spinning. The drunk Old Forest Tree felt like she was scrabbling around in circles. Round hard objects were starting to grind into the bottom of her roots. She was shedding acorns all over the room as she stumbled into objects.</font>

Áfor
16/Jan/2010, 01:36 PM
for dragged his feet slowly to the new room that was indicated, not entirely unhappy to find multicoloured shirts there. He had no idea who his teammates were, and very little capacity to remember their faces at this point. Not to mention he was firmly shoved towards the colection of green shirt. It was not the shoving he appreciated, of course, it was the greenness. He could not quite remember when he had indicated his affinity to the colour green, but clearly, the pub-people were willing to accomodate his colour bias.

After several attempts at sticking the correct appendages through suitable openings, he was finally satisfied with his work, and looked around himself to see who else was wearing green. A tree... of course... why not, after all, he was suddenly coming to know talking trees by the dozen. Better while drunk than while sober. he couldn't find any more people with green shirts, but this proved nothing - maybe someone was just too incapacitated to identify green. He followed the tree to one of the pubs and plopped down on the bench, waiting to see what this was all about; it did seem like quite an affair.</font>

Let the brawling begin!

Oh, brawl?! for jumped to his feet, swayed dangerously and tried to find a suitable target. There was quite a bit of blue around him, and he could not decide which blue speck to aim for. Frowning hard, he tried to make out which of the blue ones would be most likely to have even worse balance than him, but his efforts were rudely interrupted by something landing on his head. And again. And again. He looked up to find acorns raining from the tree that was his teammate, and he only had a split second left to dive for cover before something swung over his head. The tree was making an admirable effort at swinging at their opponents, and he seemed to have found himself too close for safety. Geting back up unsteadily, he realised he was now rather close to a blue speck (Calena), who seemed rather familiar. Stepping up to her, his suspicions were confirmed. "Hey, I know you! What are you doing, wearing blue, for Bma's sake!?" He tried his best to slap her in the face, but with the drinks these people had been serving, it was anyone's guess where the strike would land.</font>

Calenaldawen
16/Jan/2010, 03:31 PM
"Hey!" Calena jumped up from her seat. "He-hey! That's our team mate! You can't kidnap him! That's just wrong!" She was extremely unhappy with the fact that Anteor got carried towards the pub door by a bunch of dwarves. Poking Balfur harder than she ought to, she complained to him: "We can't let them get away with kidnapping! He's one of us!" Now Calena started running after the dwarfes and hit them in their backs, though not very hard because a) her eye vision was all blurred and she was having difficulties concentrating on what was real and what was just her brain tricking her and b) a part of her wasn't eager to smack anyone anyway. But the dwarfes vanished before she had a real chance at getting at them. So instead she had another Ale.

Now there was a loud 'DING' that hurt her ears. "It hurts my ears!" Calena repeated her thoughts aloud. Then she simply stood around in the middle of the pub, grinning rather foolishly and watching everyone rush around. This prooved to be a very unwise thing to do. A table crashed to the ground next to together with a Huorn who looked rather silly wearing a green shirt. "Haha!" Calena giggled and pointed at Oakie. "Haha, you're wearing a shirt!" She collapsed to the ground, and as if her head wasn't spinning enough already, she started rolling around laughing. "Haha!" Darn, perhaps she shouldn't have had that last Ale. Suddenly Afor poofed up out of nowhere. "Hey, how did you do that?" Calena said, still giggling like a loony. "You're a.. haha... a wizard!" She thought Afor was insulting her blue shirt, but wasn't quite sure of it. But then he attempted to slap her, and this she was very sure about, for it hit her right on the cheek, immediately stopping her laughter. "Ouuuuuch!" She yelled. "By Orome's beard -" Wait, did Orome have a beard? Wasn't that legendary fairy, thing, whatever a horse? "By Orome's hoove-" she tried again. No, that didn't sound correct. Did horses were hooves? She didn't think so. Ah, wait, this had to be correct: "By Orome's Pink Party Hat!" Calena yelled and tried to slap Afor too, but instead lost her balance and ended up rolling around the floor again until she banged against wood. Oh, the Huorn's trunk! Calena clinged on to Oakie's trunk with arms and feet while yelling: "Brawl! Brawl! Brawl!" Now she attempted at squeezing what to her drunken eyes resembled a barkish toe but was in fact part of a root.
</font>

Edited by: Calenaldawen

Oak
16/Jan/2010, 07:02 PM
Oakie was too drunk to notice that one of the blue team was missing snatched away by Mr. Sir and his team. She had completely missed the conversation about Ents and axes-well because she wasn't an Ent. She did however catch the word Ent. She was an Old Forest Oak. In fact she was looking for the Ent in the room--a fellow that would be about as tall as she, but without branches and having legs instead of a flare of roots like she had- so she had been told by a well traveled Rohir. Her search for the Ent ended when she felt something wrapping itself around her trunk then squeezing one of her roots. "OOOOOWWWWW!" The Oak moaned. She couldn't 'walk very well with this blue thing sticking to her and stinging her root. She started to pull it off by grabbing it by the collar.
</font>

Edited by: Silver Oak

Idesinholde
17/Jan/2010, 04:16 PM
TEAM YELLOW - PUB 2



Was she drunk? Check. Was she an angry drunk?
Check. Was she clueless as to why she was so mad? Check. Perhaps it was
hormones perhaps it was feelings hidden in her sub-consciousness but she was
really mad! Spotting (Silendra)
some creature she decided she wanted to destroy she walked over with unsteady
feet and eyes that kept rolling to the back of her head and forcing her to
concentrate to roll them back. 'Hey you' she
shouted trying to point at the other person and not being sure if it was a male
or female. Either way she was planning on pummelling the he/she with her bare
fists!<DIV ="WebWizRTE" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1">

Sil
19/Jan/2010, 05:48 AM
It was some time before Silendra realised, blurrily, that she was in the wrong pub. If the fight had been already in progress and enough people had been splattered with blood and wine to confuse her, she might not have realised; but as it was, she was in a place where absolutely nobody else was wearing red. This absence of anyone waving a red shirt rather annoyed her, like the opposite of a bull, and she got up belligerently and began to shoulder her way to the door.
</font>
</font>No sooner had she managed to make her way into Pub Two when some tiny creature was calling her "HEY YOU" and trying to pummel her with its fists. Were they fists? They were probably fists. Ow. Ow, they felt like fists.
</font>
</font>"Why don't I teach your mother how to dance," roared Silendra, making absolutely no sense whatsoever, and tried to kick said probably-dwarf in the probably-face.
</font>

Áfor
19/Jan/2010, 01:31 PM
It was only after he made contact with Calena's... yes, that was her name, and she was a Rohir, like him... face, that her sentence registered with his drunken brain. Wizard?! WIZARD??!!??! "I... am most cerrrt... certainly... NOT a... wizzzzzzard!!!" By the time he was through, though, she was well out of his sight. The last thing he could remember, her hand had been coming towards his face, and then POOF, she was gone. Maybe SHE was a wizard, disguised as a Rohir. He would need to investigate that once his world stopped spinning.

His deep musings on the nature of wizards were cut short by screaming, though. He turned slowly towards the source, apparently on the ground, and was quite delighted to see Calena there. She was not a wizard after all. Just drunk. So drunk, she fell!!! He smiled meekly at her, reaching out to give her a hand getting back up, before he remembered that beautiful blue shirt meant she was his opponent. And she was clinging on to his bestest friend in the world, the tree he had only seen for the first time a few minutes ago.

Enraged by this outrageous and rude behaviour, he lunged at her, trying to grab her foot and drag her away from the lovely tree. None treated his friends like this!!!
</font>

Oak
19/Jan/2010, 02:00 PM
Now there were two forces trying to peel the blue blob from her. It was still fastened to her rootlet. She gave up on tugging. It only caused more bruising and pain. Now someone in green ( Afor) was pulling on the person in blue (Calena</font>). To make matters worse, her original tree-nappers entered, pouring more ale on her roots. "There ye bee, watered all nice," said one. There was only one way of getting all that ale into a an Old Forest Oak- via the root system. The liquor smeared floor didn't help matters any either. Her roots greedily drank up any spill. Now all Oakie could see were blue and green blurs in the room. The second bath in ale dulled the pain of the pinched root somewhat.

Oakie tried to march in a circle around the room again. Bit the blue thing clinging to her hobbled her. Root number 4 was out of commission. She felt like a wagon missing one of its wheels. That pinched rootlet felt like it was swelling and going numb.
</font>

Balfur
20/Jan/2010, 06:37 AM
They had taken the dwarf of his team, Balfur realised just before some ding was heard and someone shouted the brawls had started. The dwarf was fairly honest when he said he hadn't seen any brawl at all where he was sitting. The closest thing to a brawl was the rider Calena prodding him and not too gentle either. He tried to get a grip on his intoxicated mind, but it just flew as soon as he had his arms wrapped around it. Getting rather worked up about this, he noticed he was the only dwarf in the room, still sitting on his chair.

In the pub-room, he spotted two of the human kind and a tree. Instantly, Balfur was reminded why he hated dwarven pubbrawls: there was always a lack of dwarves! He got up, too quickly, swung around and managed to get the chair and throw it in the direction of the two brawlers and the tree. It missed all its targets, but it didn't matter, because the dwarf had thrown himself right after it. He tried to land a proper fist on the tree, he'd figured out it would be the easiest target, yet somehow it seemed to move...</font>

Nwyfre Hammershaft
20/Jan/2010, 05:19 PM
OOC ALL: [Does everybody like the idea of just roleplaying beating the snot out of each other until nobody's left on one team? Or should I try and come up with a random element to determine winners?

At this time I'd like to say that I'm still working on perfecting the pub club, and you guys deserve an enourmous "THANK YOU" for being my guinea pigs, as I try to work out a good game. I've been noticing little things that I should have thought of, that I didn't include in my OP, and thanks to you guys I'm becoming a better thread runner.

I like the idea of just being a straight RP, and I think I've worked out a plausible formula for determining a winner between the two teams brawling. it looks like this:


Team Posts Lengths+ # of Posts
Team Members Posting

Since there are so many games on the plaza that are determined by dice rolls, I kinda like the idea that it's the players activity that determines a winner here. Again, this is something that I should have thought of earlier, otherwise, these brawls could just last forever, there needs to be a way to end them...

As it stands now, if we do three one week "Rounds" as we near the end of the first round, Red team is beating the Yellow team by 46 points, while the Green team is beating the Blue by 235 points.

Let me know what you think, or if you have a suggestion for me about this. Either OOC Me or PM me. Again you guys are the BEST for helping me smooth this out!</font>]</font>Edited by: Nwyfre Hammershaft

Anteor
20/Jan/2010, 05:20 PM
Steaming angry was not the right phrase. There were few things that really got on Anteor's nerves but getting humiliated like that was not something he was prepared to lie down. Whirling around he stomped straight back into the bar and clapped eyes on Silver Oak whom he knew was on the opposing team. He would pay for his recent humiliation. "Tally ho!" he bellowed throwing a nearby chair at the Ent. "Have some of that you wooden wuss!"

OOC Nyf: Duly noted many apologies!

Idesinholde
20/Jan/2010, 07:25 PM
TEAM YELLOW - PUB 2

" Why dont you teach my mother how to dance" she said slurring but loudly. She was too drunk to realise that made no sense. Then she tried to hit the woman with her fists again. Hopefully she would break her nose, that always hurt and brought the opponent into panic with how much blood there was. Besides you needed to breath well in a fight. However as she was attempting that the other kept trying to kick her. In the face! How dare she? "Ow ow ow that hurt!" she suddenly screamed in a whiny five year old fashion which was about where she was at maturity wise. She was rather shocked the other one had actually managed to kick her. "Don't you dare hurt my beautiful face!" Now she was even angrier than before and was actually attempting to bite Silendra... Yes lets leave horrible bite marks she was thinking.

OOC Nwyfre I think you are doing great, and that sounds good to me ^^<DIV ="WebWizRTE" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1">

Oak
21/Jan/2010, 01:35 PM
Silver Oak felt someone punching her trunk. She reached down to push the Dwarf (Balfur</font>) away That was when something brittle and wooden launched by Anteor</font> </font>crashed into the side of Silver Oak's face and crown. She felt something sticking out of her ear vent. She reached and plucked it out. It was a chair leg. "Where did that come from". Then a piece of chair started to hang down in front of her face. It was caught up in her canopy. She reached up with a branch to pull it down. only a rung busted off leaving the rest up there. It was wedged up in her branches. She reached up and pulled another piece off. CRACK! Finally the rest of the broken chair came tumbling down. But she was left with a pounding headache.

OOC ALL ( My character is an Old Forest Tree and female. The Term Huorn is also acceptable. She is not an Ent</font>)
</font>

Calenaldawen
21/Jan/2010, 03:09 PM
"No! No tugging collar! Not fear!" Calena stomped her foot, ignoring the fact that it would just get entangled in roots and not reach the ground. She ended up loosing her balance and falling off the trunk, thanks to her own clumsyness, Oakie's tugging and Afor's pulling. Latter green shirt had appeared out of nowhere once again. "Wiiii-zard!" She yelled, pointing a finger at him in accusation. There she now lay on the pub floor, gazing up at the ceiling like a complete fool. "Ouch... my head." She muttered and reached for her forehead while trying to sit up. "Brawl!" She shouted. Gosh, not that baby talk again! Why by Bema's hooves did she talk like a two year old when she was intoxicated?

"Get up, lazy beans!" She talked to herself. The blue Rider, literally and figuratively speaking, stumbled across the room in confusion until she bumped into a table. Not knowing what to do with it, she decided to just climb on to it and walk on from there straight ahead. Apparently her brain had forgotten that there were such things as turning left and right. So she climbed on to the table, with as much difficulty as a dwarf trying to mount a horse. But instead of walking on as had been her intention, she decided it would be more awesome to enjoy the view from up there. "Hullo!" Calena waved at the fighting crowed with great enthusiasm. "Huuuullo!" Oh, wait, from her viewpoint she could spot a green shirt very close to her. Remembering she was supposed to go for the green, she stretched out her arms like wings and dived towards Afor. One part of her brain remembered to feel vaguely afraid, for if she didn't hit him, she'd end up squashing her own face like a fly trampled by an Oliphaunt.
</font>

Sil
21/Jan/2010, 06:23 PM
Silendra couldn't stop laughing, especially as the dwarf was far too short to actually hit her in the face. Unfortunately said dwarf seemed to believe that Silendra's face was somewhere in the region of her belly. This was truly unreasonable, since Silendra liked to think that her belly looked nothing like her face, especially when it was securely covered in leather. Her belly, that was, not her face. She rarely wore leather over her face except on certain rather.. well.. messy missions. But at any rate, that wasn't stopping the dwarf pummelling her - in a rather painful way. Silendra went to stamp on the little beast before realising that her depth perception was strangely not what it once had been and instead cracked a floorboard; fortunately her boots were steel-toed (a precaution very wise in Mordor, where even the horses have a bad habit of stamping on one's feet; especially Silendra's own mount, a bad-tempered stallion named Phil, who had been a cynical present from her long-lost Nerys).
</font>
</font>"I shall teach your mother," said Silendra enthusiastically, flailing with her hands somewhere in the air above Idesin's head before realising and, the kicking having worked, trying for a good knee as well, in the region of the dwarf's chin. "But she shan't learn veryryyy ryy fast if shhe takes after.. I mean, if her daughter's as stupid as her - hey, you are a girl, right? Always found it hard to twell ith drorvs. Dwares. Dwarves. And can I can I can I just say that actually your face it is not beautiful, but rather resembles a badger that is moulting and has a severe case of skin disease. How do you like them potatoes?"

OOC Nwyfre: Normally I never support post length-judgement, being an advocate of quantity over quality - but this is your game and if you want to experiment, go for it *g* good luck and thanks for opening this!</font> **
</font>

Anteor
22/Jan/2010, 06:36 PM
Laughing to himself maliciously about the obvious inconvience he had caused Silver Oak, Anteor's eye caught sight of Afor who was in immediate danger of being squashed by another Ent (Cale)."Watch out!" he bellowed, hurtling towards Cal as fast as his legs would carry him. "RAASGGGH!" he boomed picking up the nearest item (a table complete with glasses) and lobbing it with full force at the offending Ent. "Pick on someone your own size" he shouted.

Balfur
24/Jan/2010, 09:01 AM
The blonde bearded dwarf was being pushed away... by a tree!? Somewhere in his mind, Balfur could only jump to this conclusion, yet he was amazed he could make it. He knew he was slightly intoxicated by the beverages he had been drinking all night long (or probably all day long, otherwise it would be early in the morning and not late in the night no more, Balfur was not that fast a drinker), but this was something else! If there were trees that could walk, and most likely talk too, they just might fight back when he went to chop some of them down for constructional purposes. Balfur felt it was the exact good situation to turn to the bar and tell the landlord, with a glacy expression on his face that he needed a drink. Alas for </font>Balfur, he was in a pubbrawl and obviously the bartender was off duty.

Yet to his surprise (another one, it clearly was a night full of surprises) he spotted the dwarf which had been taken away from his team because he had been carrying an proper axe (a dwarven custom and tradition which should not be overlooked or ignored; dwarves had the right to chop some firewood if there was a walking tree moving about in one of their pubs), return to the blue side. Balfur felt less of a lone dwarf in a party of trees and humans and enthusiastically turned to his next opponent. He missed a hatchet to fight moving trees.

In front of him stood a man (technically spoken he was not standing in front of him, but being dragged by the movements of the tree, which was being grabbed by Balfur's teammate Calena, who in turn had been grabbed by the foot by the man who "stood" in front of the dwarf) and a man was more like to give way when a dwarf charged than a tree. So the blonde dwarf lowered his head and prepared for some onrushing headcharge-action. He wanted to shout some fancy battle-cry, but the only blubber he got out of his mouth was: "AAAAAAAAAAAAH" It did not matter however, for he was in the mood to give this man (afor) some good spanking!

Nwyfre: I'm honoured to be your guinnea pig</font>
</font>

Alaron Alcadir
24/Jan/2010, 10:45 AM
NPC Ironfist

The Dwarfette stubbornly went on sleeping. Feeling frustrated, Moin came away and looked for someone else to fight. The alcohol in his blood and the fist on his..well, fist had him really pumped. He needed to smash someone's skull in! Unfortunately, he could only two other people in the pub - one wearing a red shirt (Silendra) and one wearing yellow (Ides). Were they allowed double-team someone? It seemd unfair, but....they were drunk! What did it matter?

With a roar, he launched himself into the air and crashed into the floor some five feet away from the fighting couple. Blearily, he got back on his feet. Shaking his head only made it hurt that much more and he had to take a time out to stop the hammers pounding at his skull from inside and out.

After his sight had settled somewhat, he managed to focus (depending on what one means by that) on those fighting. There was a Dwarf...most probably and someone taller...so he thought anyway. Wait! A Tall Man was fighting a Dwarf? Enraged, Moin rushed at them (Sil and Ides) and with a hoarse cry, again launched himself into the air, and vaguely hoped he would hit something he was supposed to hit.

Nwyfre: Whatever you want. </font>


</font>

Drifa
24/Jan/2010, 02:37 PM
Yellow Team Pub 2 </font>

Drifa felt someone poke her in the chest, and with her eyes still closed, let out a sleepy half drunken yell. "HEY! WHAT?" Then she felt someones hot liquor induced breath near her face. She heard loud whisper</font>. "Wake up. We're supposed to be fighting." </font> Opening her eyes a slit, she saw someone turn and walk away, their shirt a red blur. Keeping her slit eye on the ( Alaron/Moin) red shirt, she sat up and put a hand to her head.
Her head was pounding. And her mouth, well it felt like it was stuffed with wet moldy cotton. She hated having a pounding head. She hated having her mouth taste like moldy cotton. But mostly she hated being poked. Staring at the back of the POKER'S red blurry shirt, she pushed herself off the bench. She lowered her head, like an enraged bull, and began to advance on the red shirt. She was a little unsteady at first but she soon gained momentum. She felt the breath coming out of her nose. It was hot. The red shirt was making her crazy. She saw the POKER jump into a couple of other brawlers and she began to run. She wasn't about to let someone else teach this chest poker a lesson. She was going to do it herself. Taking a few more powerful steps with her short sturdy legs,she dove forward, aiming for his back, yelling. "Poke me will ye? Now your in for it!"</font></font>



Edited by: Drifa

Oak
24/Jan/2010, 05:39 PM
It was turning out to be 'pick on the Oak day'. One man (Anteor</font>) was so drunk he was grabbing his own teammate (Calena</font>) by the leg. Her canopy still throbbed. She thought she had gotten all of the chair. Bits of it still fell from her crown as she shifted.

The root that had been squeezed felt like it was swelling more and curling up over the others. The ale soaked floor made it throb more. It was in no condition to go drinking up ale. Silver Oak found herself waddling with that one crippled root. No longer was her gait smooth and gliding. The walking Tree usually seemed to float on her flare of roots. Silver Oak waddled now with her injured root.

The room itself was spinning now. She found a corner to settle her bottom. The floor was very wet. At this point she didn't care.
</font>

Idesinholde
26/Jan/2010, 03:59 PM
Yellow
team – pub 2



Before<B style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"> Idesin[/B] could really tell <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Silendra[/B] exactly what she thought of
those potatoes she was interrupted by someone joining the fight. (Moin) Her
eyesight was not good enough for her to tell wither or not this was a friend
but then again they did not seem too tall so that had to mean friend? However
he had not only hurt Silendra with a punch but her too so soon she was punching
at him as much as that <B style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Silendra[/B] creature
whom had weird skin that looked and felt like leather.

At some point she was sitting on the ground
asking; “<I style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">What is moulding? Can a face
mould?”[/I] Too many drink and too many
punches confused the best of dwarves and this one was far from the best.<DIV ="WebWizRTE" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1">

Áfor
26/Jan/2010, 04:46 PM
Being dragged around by Calena who was being dragged around by the Oak was a less than fun experience and it was not exactly winning any brawls, so for was about to let go, when Calena came to the same conclusion. Relieved for a second, he rolled on the gorund, only to find himself facing her finger. Was that witch accusing him of being a wizzzzaaarrrddd?! He jumped to his feet and grabbed a hold of the nearest wall to remain upright, while answering her challenge. For some reason completely unknown to him, all this thinking of wizards made him think of that worm. Surprised at his own mouth and what was coming out of them, he pointed back at her and howled "Grmmmmaaaaaaaaa!!"

It seemed to be too late though, as she was already climbing on the table. Satisfied to be rid of her, he turned around, but his happiness soon subsided. All he could really focus on was the head (Balfur) coming at him, but at a worryingly low height. His confused brain refused to cooperate, so his legs decided to take charge, and stepped aside. Alas, he was too slow, and he only managed a grunt as the head hit him squarely in the stomach. To make matters worse, he saw another flash of blue right before Calena landed right on top of him, sending him flying to the ground.

With a wild push, he tried getting rid of her. Drunk or not drunk, being pinned to the ground by anyone was a sensation that sent him into a mindless defense that would not stop until he could get up freely again. In a flurry of hands and feet, he swung madly at Calena's head, hoping to knock her out so he could remove her.</font>


Anteor: Calena is a Ridersmileys/smiley4.gif</font>

Oak
26/Jan/2010, 05:43 PM
At least no one was fastened to Silver Oak at this point. Her roots were drinking up the ale on the floor making her more numb. Her mouth felt like it was full of spiderwebs. Her canopy still throbbed. Every jostle of her crown hurt. She reached up to feel it. The limbs felt intact, but she felt like she had a drummer band up there pounding away.

The trio of figures came in again dumping more ale on her roots. She vision was so blurry that she could not make out if they were short Men or tall Dwarves. Now the pain in her crown began to dull somewhat.

She heard someone screaming a name Grima. Who was Grima? Was that a grimy person? Everyone was grimy in here. Maybe it was someone in blue. She started moving again, looking for a blue shape. She found a taller one. (Calena</font>) And turned herself sideways, taking aim with her thick back limb. The Tree was so drunk the branch didn't work properly. It just flopped and knocked a chair over into Calena</font>.</font>

Anteor
27/Jan/2010, 05:27 AM
<DIV =WebWizRTE marginheight="1" marginwidth="1" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1">"Ha!" laughed Anteor noting one Ent (Silver Oak), settling down in a corner looking thoroughly tired and having had yet more ale flung over her. Gazing around the room he saw a fellow team mate (Cale) who appeared to be having a little difficulty in dealing with a rider (Afor). Given he had previosuly lobbed a chair at her beleiving that she was a foe in his drunken state he felt obliged to go assist. Grabing four tankards in his hands he ran across the room where it seeme Cale was doing a fine job in pinning the upstart without him. Still his arms and elgs were flailing wildly and she was in danger of gettting her head knocked off. With this in mind he dropped all four tankard onto Afor's head with his right fist swinging down and clonking him smartly.

OOC Afor: oops my bad!

Balfur
27/Jan/2010, 11:17 AM
It was a hit! Blonde dwarf Balfur could barely believe it, but his bull-rush tactics seemed to have worked. The human Afor took the dwarf's head right to his stomach, after a lame attempt to evade Balfur's infallible attack. It suddenly dawned to the dwarf, while his head bumped into the soft stomach of the human, he was invincible! No matter how big, strong or treeish his enemy would be, he would always be able to floor them with a head-on charge right into the more softer parts of their bodies. Hah! No one who could stop him now! He was a beserker! A juggernaut!

The next actions were a blur and Balfur would later never really remember how it had happened (not that he remembered a lot of the night anyway, he had needed to hire a private investigator to figure out what he had done that night and why he was bruised all over his body), but from the flashes he could remember he had formed a theory. One of his teammates, probably the non-dwarf rider Calena, jumped on Afor, who was sent flying to the ground. The dwarf stumbled over the two bodies and in his speed he too fell on the floor. Yet he remained a fast moving projectile and was slung crashing into the wall of the pub, gliding over the wet floor and taking tables and chairs with him in his emergency landing. For a moment all was black.

Then stars appeared and as he opened his eyes, he could see the shapes (his vision was still blurred) of the other contestants of the pub brawl. Dazzled, he tried to get up, an undertaking in which he succeeded only slowly. But in the end he stood on both legs again, balancing on two broken tables. He roared something that might have sounded like "TEAM BLUE!" had his mouth not been filled with blood. From the pulsing ache in the top of his head and the slow, tickly feeling of a thick liquid dripping down his face he could conclude he was bleeding. It made him only a lot more annoyed. He jumped off the ruined tables and joined the brawl once more, holding the wooden leg of one of the chairs. Now that he had scored a hit on the icky human, he decided to charge the tree, who looked like a Silver Oak. Had Balfur had any knowledge of trees, he would have known this. In his charge he nearly fell twice, but the moment he felt his feet slipping, he would just slide along. He yelled: "Hear!" to confuse the tree (for a moment he wondered whether trees could hear) and swung with his improvised club at the big, brown, barky shape in front of him.</font>

Oak
27/Jan/2010, 11:55 AM
Thwack</font>! The big brown barky shape was Silver Oak's bum just above her root flare. Ouch the object had splinters in it which dug into the crevices in her bark, leaving her rump itchy. Great. Now she was doing to be scratching her bum all night. Silver Oak turned around to face the blue opponent (Balfur</font>). It was short with gold streaked with red flowing down its chest--A bloodied Dwarf the source of all that yelling. She scratched her bum again with a branch. Silver Oak's large golden eyes narrowed. At least she thought she was narrowing them. Then she bellowed in the Dwarf's face trying to look fierce. But then again, Silver Oak were not a very fierce looking tree with her clouds of tiny soft leaves and her big deer eyes. She was the sort of Tree someone might hug. Her benign appearance was the reason why she was caught by the trio of Breelanders and watered with ale for this brawl. They thought it would be funny to see a Tree brawl. So far she was not as mean or dangerous as originally thought.

Silver Oak moved forward in attempt to back the Dwarf into the spectator seating. She wanted to see him trip over the chairs and feel as much or more misery as he had caused her. "Why you thwat my bottommm?" She lisped with her tongue thick with ale. Her rump was itching fiercely from the splinters lodged in the crevices in her bark. She started scratching again. The benches and seats behind the Dwarf were a blur. She could not gauge how close they were.
</font>

Drifa
27/Jan/2010, 12:02 PM
Yellow Team Pub 2

Some how Drifa missed the red shirts back and landed on the floor. How this could have happened, (it was hard for her at this point to wrap her drunken brain around the fact that it could be because she was still drunk), was beyond her. She was a dwarf of sturdy build and excellent aim. But here she was on the floor in the middle of a cat fight. There was another dwarf (Idesin) who had the same color shirt as her. Was she on her team? Her boozed mind could not remember. And another brawler with a red shirt (Sil) and of course the red shirt chest poker himself (Moin).
She lay there for a moment, letting her self be kicked about by the other brawlers, thinking of her childhood. Her older sister had been a mean dwarf. She liked to play a game with her younger sister Drifa that she called, Puncher Pincher Slapper and Biter. She remembered this game and the many hurts and bruises she received from it. She thought she had blocked all the torment from her mind but, alcohol is a cruel drug. It brings out the worst in most, and unlocks the bad memories.
Stirring from her reverie, she got to her knees. The red shirts were high up but, their knees were right in her range. She began to punch out, and then pinch. She raised both hands and began to slap at the legs in front of her. And then, she opened her mouth and moving forward on her knees biting out, her jaw open and closing hard. Her sister had taught her well. She continued the game, following the beat. Punch, pinch, slap, bite........</font></font>

Alaron Alcadir
28/Jan/2010, 11:16 AM
NPC Ironfist

It was all a tangle. Soon he was not sure whom he was hitting and who was hitting him. Quite possibly, he punched himself in the face a number of times in the confusion. Moin did not even notice the formerly sleeping Dwarfette (Drifa) joining the fight at first, but it soon became clear that he was fighting three people and not two.

"Ouch." He yelled hoarsely, when someone actually bit him on his shin, after first punching and then pinching and then slapping. "Wazza doin'?" He shouted, punching the air, unsure exactly where from this insidious bite had originated. He stumbled on someone's hands and fell flat on his face again. "Ohhhh." He groaned, suddenly feeling the weight of all those kicks and punches. It hurt!

But he was a veteran of the Battle of the Five Armies! He was not about to go down in a pub brawl. Summoning super-dwarven strength, Moin picked himself up and launched back into the fray, landing right on top of Idensinholde.
</font>

Drifa
29/Jan/2010, 09:39 AM
Yellow Team Pub 2

Drifa got a mouth full of cloth and felt bone as her jaw closed over a knee. She heard a hoarse yell and knew she had found her mark. Moving back quickly on her knees, she saw the red shirt dwarf fall on top of Idesin, her team mate. Staggering to her feet she was about to jump back in to the fight when she stopped suddenly as if she had just thought of something.
Swaying as she stood, she reached into her pant pocket and pulled out a silver flask. She was sobering up what with all the exercise and concentration. Thinking was a sure sign of it. Taking a couple of swigs out of the flask, she recapped it, pocketed it and jumped back into the fray, arms swinging , legs kicking and jaw chompin'. She was hoping to land on top of the chest poker (Moin) and knock him off of her brawl mate, but if she missed him maybe her arm or leg or jaw would catch the other red shirt (Sil) and knock her down. She yelled as she jumped through the air. "Ahiooooo!"
</font>

Idesinholde
29/Jan/2010, 09:50 AM
<DIV ="WebWizRTE" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1">


Yellow Team Pub 2
Okay this was just getting really confusing. Suddenly a lot of people were fighting one another and she simply was not certain of whom she was supposed to pummel to a pulp anymore. So now she was simply trying to punch anyone who was within reach. Within seconds this happened to be Mr Ironfist as he jumped upon her and as she hit the floor he landed upon her. It became a little hard to breath as a light dwarf was rather unheard of but being so drunk laying down made her sleepy and nauseous. So instead of hitting Mr Ironfist she was simply huffing and puffing and trying to get him off. "Get of me you smelly fat ogre!"

Luckily Drifa was there to the rescue trying to pull him off also so now he really did have very little choice!


Edited by: Idesinholde

Tuthor Avaronil Laegiel
31/Jan/2010, 02:29 PM
Tuthor had found his way to the Mountain, and he knew what it was he wanted to do. Quickly as possible, he found the pub, for he loved to drink, more so than any other Elf he knew. And as he entered the Pub, he found a sign up sheet for a "Pub Club." "Excellent! A chance to drink, and fight! I will take this opportunity." So he filled out the waiver, quick as he could.

I Tuthor Lored</span>,
agree to the rules of the Pub Club. The P.C. is not responsible for any
loss of limb, brain cells, or life, or any other such damage to my
person that may happen to me while I am present in the P.C. I agree
that I am of legal age to drink in my region. My favorite color is Green. I am intoxicated.



Signed,Tuthor Loren.
</font></font>

Sil
31/Jan/2010, 03:29 PM
Silendra, whilst feeling naturally belligerent whilst she was drunk, was feeling rather in need of another drink. "Would you excuse me?" she said, with uncharacteristic politeness, to what she assumed was Idesin, but was in fact a nearby table. Then she carefully removed a flask from her bodice, unscrewed it after a few attempts, and took a few sips. Against all probability, her eyes actually came into sharper focus. Then they narrowed.
</font>
"I see," Silendra voiced; this was a lie. She could barely see at all. "Now, where were we?"

</font>She turned back to the table. She examined the table. It was quite a poorly made table, not that Silendra could appreciate it; no doubt the owner of the pub had realised that since a brawl was going on, there was no use wasting money on furniture. And so it was when Silendra picked it up and then ran screaming against a wall with it full tilt that it smashed into dangerous splinters, some of them quite large, which began to bounce around the room.
</font>
"There," she told the table, "that'll show you."
</font>

Alaron Alcadir
02/Feb/2010, 10:15 AM
NPC Ironfist

It was pandemonium. He was lying on something that was most uncomfortable and kept yelling shrilly in his ears. "Ahhh!" He yelled back, trying to get off, but it appeared that short in stature that he was, he found it hard to roll off. Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately - someone bumped into him at high speed, sending him spinning away.

"Wooooaaaawwww!" He shrieked as he tumbled across the floor, like an ill-thrown barrel. His head spun and bumped repeatedly on the floor, doing nothing for his terrible headache. The wall stopped him, rather violently really and pushed him away quite hard. He landed in a sprawl, dazed.

There was a smashing sound and something sharp poked him in the ribs. "OUCH!" He yelled and was compelled to stand up straight. Glaring through ale-clouded eyes, he let out a horribly battle-cry and ran full-speed at the nearest vaguely humanoid shape (Who is it?)
</font>

Idesinholde
02/Feb/2010, 04:40 PM
Yellow Team Pub 2

What was that shrieking about? Covering her ears and fighting the nausea Idesin got up and tried to look around with the little vision she had. Suddenly the woman she was fighting asked to be excused and with politeness you would not expect from a drunk brawling dwarf Ides allowed her to go; no questions asked. Soon splinters were flying around too as that Silendra creature had clearly gone mad enough to trash inanimate objects. In truth she was fine with that because that mean she was not trashing her. "You are no tree hugger you!" She yelled at her, where that was an insult no one but she knew. Now where did those other ones go she needed to pummel someone!
<DIV ="WebWizRTE" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1" marginwidth="1" marginheight="1">

Anteor
05/Feb/2010, 06:47 PM
Through the chaos Anteor saw the pub door open and a new dwarf whose face was unfamiliar to him step inside (Tuthor). "Varkin!" he bellowed over the din "I hope you brought your wits and stamina cos you're going to need 'em!". Further discourse with this new fighter was prevented by the immense thrashing about caused by Silver Oak who apparently had some urge to dance. "Right, I'll give her something to dance about!". Leaping over a table and doging another which came flying in his direction he grabbed a keg of beer from behind the bar and lobbed it at Silver. "Right, let's dance!"

Oak
06/Feb/2010, 02:30 PM
Silver Oak's eyes widened as she saw a large object coming at her. Who threw it was a mystery. She was too intent on Balfur </font>to see who threw it. As it got closer she could see that it was a beer keg. It connected hitting the thick branch that came out from her brow. The keg shattered. Its slats and beer were sloshing all over. Silver Oak slowly toppled. Her trunk slammed into a bench, splitting it in half and dumping the seated spectators. Her fluffy crown didn't do any damage to the seats behind. It just dropped acorns all over. The poor Oak was seeing stars.</font>

Anteor
06/Feb/2010, 04:49 PM
Anteor grinned as he saw his target stumble backwards into a bench. "This should do it" he thought as he grabbed a nearby chair and lobbed it in her direction. Without looking to see if it hit the intended target he leapt after it intending, though he didn't know it, engage in a good old fashioned round of fisticuffs with a tree.

Sil
07/Feb/2010, 07:00 PM
"That's quite true," said Silendra, vaguely, "I can't ever remember hugging a tree. Although I woke up hugging a fence post once, does that count?" She pirouetted vaguely away from the ruins of the table, her eyes in a lovely, dreamy glaze and a beatific smile spreading on her face. At least, until she trod upon a splinter and screamed in the most heart-rendingly outraged fashion so as to pierce the eardrums of anyone at all sensitive to noise. "And I bought those boots to be waterproof," she mourned, "and just look how they... they... Morgoth's teeth, I am going to rip the dwarf off that beard who sold it to me. I mean, what?"</font>

Then she was sick on someone.
</font>

Drifa
08/Feb/2010, 12:48 PM
Yellow Team Pub 2

Drifa hit something hard dislodging it and then her head found the floor and she knew no more for a moment or two except for the little pints of ale that flew around her head. When she came to, there was someone shrieking about trees and ripping beards from dwarven faces. Drifa felt her ire rise at this and attempted to get to her feet but was stuck by another dizzy spell causing her to fall back upon her rear. She sat on the floor swatting at the little pints of ale that flew around her head again. Putting her head down, she took a breather trying to regain her wits. She reached in her pocket for her flask. A couple of quick swigs would straighten her up good.

Looking up she saw the room full of brawlers. A bunch of drunks spittin' and hittin'. She took a swig from her flask. Smacking her lips she was about to take another when something hot and lumpy and stinky hit her and splatter down her back and face. It stung her eyes and the smell made her gag. She wiped at her eyes and looked at her beard. There were chunks of what appeared to be carrots stuck in it. Someone had just thrown up on her head.
In a scary calm way, she recapped her flask and put it away. Then mechanically rising to her feet, she flicked a piece of carrot from her beard. She had a strange grin upon her face. It looked insane. She had chunks of puke on her and all she wanted to do was ......CHARGE!!!!!
</font>



Edited by: Drifa

Nwyfre Hammershaft
10/Feb/2010, 05:36 PM
OOC Anybody/Everybody (Please pardon my recent absence, RL made it virtually impossible for me to get on. My first son was born on Sun 1/31. Mon morning he was flown 300 mi away, due to an unsteady respiratory pattern. My mom, and I, drove the 4 hrs to get to the hospital he had been flown to. I then spent 4 days by his bedside, waiting for him to be released to me. It has been a very long week and a half, I hope only that you see fit to forgive me... BTW he was 8lbs, 10oz, and 21 in long...</font>)


DING!</font>

Your ears rattle and you hear a familiar voice echo throughout your pub... These Brawls are now Over! Please sit down at your tables while the judges determine your fates...

OOC ALL: [ Since these brawls have lasted for quite some time: this is the end of our round one, I will be assessing each of the two games, and then determining winners. I will have results by tomorrow, perhaps I can beg somebody to arrange tribute for each person on the winning teams?</font>]

OOC Tuthor: [WELCOME! Varkin to the Pub Club, as you can see we are in the middle of our first play, so if you wi=ould be kind enough to wait I'll add you to a list...</font>]

Nwyfre Hammershaft
17/Feb/2010, 11:31 AM
Ok Everybody!!! I've tallied up the points, and based on the formula I disscussed using earlier, along with reading and "grading" (like an English teacher) the Creativity, Continuity, and Character of every single post made after I announced the teams, I've found our winners!

Drum roll please.... Nwyfre is handed an official looking envelope...

Of the Brawl between the Red Team</font> and the Yellow Team</font>: THE RED TEAM</font>

Of the Brawl between the Blue Team</font> and the Green Team</font>: THE Green Team</font>

At this point I'd like to thank everybody for participating in this thread, and I have an announcement to make. Our loverly rulers have asked me to postpone the next round of the Pub Club for a while. And frankly I'm glad that they have, because I've been so busy with working, and the baby... Never fear though, The Pub Club will return!

Again, thank you for taking the time to play my little game, Thanks for being so patient with me as I worked out the little kinks!