View Full Version : Angmar: The Dagger {Pub}

11/Nov/2012, 07:21 PM
(source) (http://www.planeshift.it/pix/pics/screens/tavern1.jpg/)
Premise by Aerlinn; modified OP, banner & menu by Moriel

The tavern didn't have a proper name. It was just another rough stone building, set back from the road a little bit, marked only by wooden sign hanging above the door. The sign carried a rather shoddy, faded painting of a knife lying slantwise over a tankard, so locals called it The Dagger. It was a nervous place to talk and an even more nervous place to eat, but if one kept their wits about them they could come out much further ahead than when they had entered. Inside were many small square tables and plenty of chairs, each table with a candle in the center. How... romantic. The large, three-sided bar was of some dark, slick wood, and housed everything from hogsheads of ale to small bottles of the darkest liqueur.

On the surface at least, The Dagger is your typical inn. Residents of Carn Dūm are welcome, relatively speaking--as Angmar is an unwelcoming place--for food, drink, a bed, and a few shadier things. But there are dangers here too, that would be rare to find in Bree or Rivendell.

Ale - The unspecific everyman drink. Want to get drunk on the cheap and don't care how it tastes? This is your drink.
Screaming Ringwraith - An imported Mordorian classic. 100% Nazgūl essence.
Angmar Assignation - A deceptively girly Looking drink made with grapefruit juice, lime, a splash of rum, and three shots of SR. Served with umbrella and skewered cherry.
SOTBOF - Sex on the Beach of Forochel. An chilly concoction of crushed ice, vodka, tequila, and blood. Whose? Who knows!
Dorwinion Wine - The bartender knows a guy who knows a guy. Better have some gold on you.

Bread - You read it
Beef - You read it
Beef & Bread - Get the above together! Comes with a pot of mustard
Stew - Beef, barley, and whatever vegetables we could find
Catch of the Day - Might be a rabbit, might be a deer, might be a duck, might be... well, better make sure to ask before you order it.

We're always on the lookout for new menu items. Have a suggestion? Order it and see what happens. Alternately, PM Moriel.

Shadier Things
The bartender does not accept credit, you pay in gold or blood sir, but she does accept bribes for...certain services, and he is quite appreciative of good art. Slip her (PM me) a picture, painting, photo, poem, short story, song, etc. of your own creation and a name. Said 'friend' shall be conveniently inconvenienced for a few hours (a post or two), by a
means of your host's choice and a clever poison (i.e. loses his wits, has to make a post as a ghost, gets sick, et. al). Artistic submissions will be posted in The Dagger by yours truly. The bartender does not divulge her clients' names. That mystery is for you.



The she behind the bar, incidentally, is Ķrimė, a Southron woman of surpassing lush beauty, not too tall and not too small, who typically dresses in a tight leather corset with many layered and ruffled skirts below, properly accessorized with bangles and beads. She has a long wealth of dark chesnut hair over which she is very vain, and spends inordinate amounts of time fussing with in the morning, before her daily manicure. Ķrimė is extremely fastidious about the general cleanliness of her pub, despite the predilection of its patrons for filth. A coiled bullwhip hangs from her belt, just in case.

Think you have what it takes to work at The Dagger? Apply IC, or PM Moriel to request a positions.

Pub Staff:
Pubmistress - Ķrimė (Moriel)
Asst. Bartender -
Cook -
Server -
Bouncer -
Flunky -
??? -

Temporary NPC cook/server - Gorchag, an orc

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Welcome to The Dagger. Enter if you dare.~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


1. Keep off #660033
2. Don't come in, fall down, and get drunk, unless it's really interesting.
Godmoding rights reserved if you try and fail. And by the Pub Mistress in general.
3. Posts at least 3 lines in the text box
4. Keep an eye out for the occasional pub event!
5. Squirrels welcome, at their own risk.

11/Nov/2012, 11:34 PM

It was a dismal day in Carn Dūm. More dismal than usual, in fact: the rain was hissing down out in the darkened streets, and a chill wind insistently rattled the sign above the door outside. Ķrimė slumped over the bar and wondered why she had ever left her cozy little establishment on the slopes of Mount Doom, where things might be a bit ashy but you never had to worry about it being cold or running short of customers, because they had nowhere else to go. The Dagger was empty, and so was her heart. Her many skirts rustled, bangles jingling disconsolately as the pubmistress swayed over to the side of the bar beneath which the tall, dark wine bottles were kept, and uncorking one with her teeth, poured a significant measure into a glass. Replacing cork and bottle, Ķrimė settled back against a hogshead of ale and sipped at the glass, which was cradled in her palm like an infant might cradle a chick. Before squashing it, of course. Pursing her lips, the Southron woman wondered if her tall, dark, handsome countryman might come by. Tarias was always good for a laugh, and fairly useful too. And one could never complain at something nice to look at. She exhaled expressively, sending a few wayward tendrils of hair fluttering.

"So very, very bored..."

Almarėa Mordollwen
12/Nov/2012, 04:23 AM

~ Layna ~</font></span>
</font></span>The Dagger. Appropriate name for a pub in Carn Düm, Laynasupposed, although she would have preferred something a bit more subtle herself. It seemed to be the typical disreputable establishment, but the assassin always had her wits about her, and truly she was not the sort to get into trouble in a bar ... unless someone else started it, in which case they could expect to die quickly and painfully. Short and slim she might be; defenseless she was not. She had her usual arsenal of daggers concealed underneath her clothing - today, a nice black top with an ornate belt, and black pants. Her hair was swept up and pinned - she needed to cut it, but she fancied doing it a bit more nicely than by hacking it off with a dagger, so it was still on the to-do list, for after she'd finished a few more jobs and such.</font></span>
</font></span>She entered the pub and glanced around. Empty. Well, at least she would have to watch her back a bit less that way, although empty pubs tended to get boring rather quickly. Not enough people to murder. However, she walked up to the bar and placed a few coins in front of the pubmistress, who was apparently using alcohol to dispel her own boredom. Well, it was one way of going about it, though Laynausually had other goals in mind when she visited a pub. "One Angmar Assignation, please. And what might be your catch of the day?"</font></span>

12/Nov/2012, 02:25 PM

At last, a customer! Ķrimė straightened with enthusiasm at the sound of the door opening, but was disappointed when the person who entered wasn't more interesting. Clearly one of those shifty assassin-types who had a dreadfully annoying tendency of getting blood on one's clean floor without so much as a by-your-leave. Still, she was paying, and there was no one else around to kill yet, so Ķrimė supposed she had as much right to be there as anyone else. "Catch of the day?" The pubmistresses eyes flicked quickly over Layna. The state of her hair, ugh. Well one in her profession didn't have as much reason to keep presentable, she supposed. "You're in luck. We've got some fat rabbits today, a-roasting." Ķrimė turned and stepped over to the door behind the bar that led to the kitchen, pulled it open, and shouted inside: "Gorchag! One catch!" The temporary cook grunted his confirmation, and she let the door fall shut. He hadn't managed to kill anyone yet, but she hoped to soon find a replacement for the orc. Orcs did not, after all, have a particular reputation for culinary skill. Ķrimė set to her own task: slicing open and squeezing a grapefruit and a lime, dashing rum, and carefully measuring the Nazgūl essence. As she worked, she commented to Layna, "A bit early in the evening to start on the Assignations, particularly when one is drinking alone! What brings you in to the Dagger on this disgusting night?" She skewered a cherry on a miniature tin sword, dropped it into the glass and topped the whole thing with a pink umbrella before sliding it across to her customer.

13/Nov/2012, 12:27 AM
Looking up at the sign he had to laugh to himself, it reminded him of home. Opening the door Tom could see the place pretty much empty, someone at the bar and a barkeep, that's about it. Slowly Tom walked in with his cloak tight about him and hood down, only his thick black beard showing along with his black boots. His tall broad fram siloeted in the dim light. Tom crossed the floor taking a seat at the left corner of the bar where his back was mostly to the wall and he could see the door as well as an eye on the bar. Throwing back his hood Tom reviled his face, long think black hair, the beard, dark tan skin and what looked to be black colored eyes. Leaning on the bar Tom waited to see if he'd be served.

Almarėa Mordollwen
16/Nov/2012, 06:21 PM
http://img571.imageshack.us/img571/145/layna4.jpg</font></span>~ Layna ~</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>Rabbit. "That would do nicely." Better than most things the assassin got to eat, at any rate. Being stationed all the way up north in Carn Dūm was quite isolated, compared to Mordor, where she could always travel around to Umbar and even Gondor, and where supplies were (usually) quite accessible. The quality of her diet had definitely taken a hit - although her income hadn't, so if this place turned out to be decent, Laynamused, she might visit more often.</font>
</font> The barmistress was being inquisitive, but Laynacouldn't blame the woman - she would have been bored out of her mind with nothing to do but stand behind a bar all day and wait for the odd rare customer to drop by. So the assassin decided to be friendly, at least for the moment. "Food, a drink, business.It's nicer in here than it is out there -" she jerked her head towards the window, where the rain was clearly visible, still pouring down outside. She removed the umbrella and took a sip of the Assignation, her lips curling slightly upwards in satisfaction. "I'd think you would have a few more people in here at this time of day. Are things usually this slow?"</font></span>

16/Nov/2012, 07:40 PM

At least she was honest. Although, given her apparent profession and the type of folks one was apt to meet around here, perhaps that wasn't a good choice. Ķrimė pursued her lips and retrieved her wine, taking a long pull before answering Layna- with her own peculiar honesty. It was an innocuous enough question after all, she thought, critically examining the state of her fingernails. "Fast or slow, things are never as busy as I would like. Not yet, anyway. This city is full of hole-dwellers and shy little scumbags who aren't used to having a tavern they can go to at all, much less one where they can expect to make it through the night with a fair certainty. Soon enough they'll realize the quality of my establishment and come running. Or crawling, or whatever." The pubmistress's eyes flicked up at the sound of the door opening a second time, and then came alight with interest at the sight of a mysterious cloaked figure (Tom) coming through the door- now that was a familiar sight. It made its way to the bar with an unmistakeably masculine walk and sat down, before throwing back its hood to reveal a man of the South, though not the one she had been hoping for- still, this black-haired dark-eyed stranger might prove to be just as interesting. Ķrimė swayed over to him and put one hand on the counter and the other hand on her hip, leaning in slightly as she addressed him, "What can I do you for, hot stuff?" Gorchag emerged from the kitchen with a steaming plate, and she waved him absently towards Layna, awaiting the newcomer's reply.

16/Nov/2012, 10:03 PM
Tom cocked an eyebrow at the bar maid specially after the "hot stuff" comment. He gave a half smirk which could easly be translated into what he was thinking at the moment. Then someone walked through the kitchen door and the smell of the food quickly changed Tom's mind, only because he was hungry at the moment. Tom gave a nob at the food going by and said, "That looks good." his eyes then quickly cut back to the bar maid then down the bar. Tom knew not to be too noticable with his glances. "And a good strong ale... if ya got any." he finished. He reached into his cloak and droped two silver pennies on the bar to pay.

Edited by: Tolkus

Beren Camlost
16/Nov/2012, 10:21 PM
</font> A brown and ugly, large and vicious-looking female hound - a Molosser as they were known in Angmar, usually trained to fight big game in the mountains or to harm enemies in combat - with a brass spiked collar trotted ahead of the only man of Rhūn in Angmar : Tarias, an eastern agent of Amarthel's. He was fair in a rugged sort of way and dark whereas his friend the assassin and actress Layna, who had Black Numenorean ancestors, was light ; Tarias was and clad in tight-fitting dark clothes.</font> Since Irime was with a customer he decided to speak with her soon and approached Layna instead who was at the bar ; he had asked her to come, in fact, and the dog, curious, was sniffing at her now.</font> "Is that a polite first impression, Daimona ?" Tarias asked with an accompanying grunt as he sat on a stool to the right of Layna.</font> Daimona nuzzled Layna's ankle and sat, gazing around the tavern now lolling her tongue out of mouth.</font> "I've a present for you," Tarias divulged, grinning now as he brought forth to the clean surface of the bar a decorative jewelry box.</font></span>Tarias was a bad man, of course, but even dark-siders had friends."And for</span><b style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b] ;we're acquainted," he added. Tariaswinked at <b style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">Layna[/b]. <i style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">"Done a lot of gambling," [/i]Tarias explained,<i style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;"> "in the alleys after we came back from Black Ridge ; thought I'd spend some of my, uh, earnings on a gift for my Easterling colleague."[/i]</font> Khand and Rhūn had normally good relations throughout history and their own partnership mirrored that rather well.</font></span> Inside was a (</font>HERE</font> (http://www.jewelryexpert.com/catalog/graphics/Ruby-Diam&#111;nd-Ring-1.gif)) gold band crusted with diamonds arranged around a ruby at the center ; the gems shone lustrously in the light of the candles nearest them.</font> "I figured you would like something useful. You could wear that for whenever you're acting," Tarias suggested. "Perhaps a woman of wealth and nobility." He noticed her ornate belt ; apparently, Layna didn't only wear ornamentation when she was in character. "Or maybe just whenever you like...."</font> He reached for a menu.</font> "Let's see what's changed since<b style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]<i style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">owned On the Rocks. Had you ever been there before, Layna, or you were too busy poisoning Gondorian lords ?"[/i] he chuckled. </span><b style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">Tarias [/b]sighed heavily and muttered an oath. </span><i style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;">"She just[/i] had</span><i style="color: rgb153, 102, 0;"> to get rid of the Silmaril Wine. I'm going to have to get that smuggled here to the north somehow. It was a delightful infusion of grapes of the Silver Tree of Gondor spiced with an exquisite hint of essence of Silmaril ; in short - you'd love it. Nice classy drink like the one you're having now. Anyways."[/i]</font> He shoved the menu aside.</font> "I didn't only ask you here so you could have that pretty bauble," he revealed, "was wondering if you'd be interested in finding something to kill with me. Or spy on." He shrugged. "People like us need to keep our skills honed...we shan't be bored in the north ; there's plenty of Elves and Dķnedain for us to observe and dispatch. Though with your beauty and pale skin, you'd probably do a better job with the latter than I would..."</font> Tarias cursed his brown skin tone and looked over his shoulder to yell at Ķrimė. "Hey ! Can I get some service over here, wench ! This man is thirsty !" He grinned at her lopsidedly ; it was good to be back. This was a different tavern than On the Rocks but somehow it still felt like home.</font></span>

Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

17/Nov/2012, 12:36 AM

"Dear boy, what sort of tavern owner would I be if I had no strong ale?" Ķrimė whirled away towards the nearest hogshead, catching a large wooden mug by its handle as she went. With a practiced flick of the wrist, she twisted the tap and filled the mug until the frothy head foamed over the edge, and turned as the door opened again- perhaps a rush was starting up! If the pubmistress's eyes had lit up at the interesting sight of Tom, they positively gleamed when Tarias strode through the door. For once, her wishes were answered; things were never dull when he was around. But he followed his wretched dog and made a beeline straight for Layna, which caused Ķrimė's expression to darken considerably, and she swept back down the bar to Tom, plonking the mug down before him, with none of the coy chatter he might normally have been treated to, before yanking open the door to hiss his order to Gorchag. The door shut with a snap, and Ķrimė turned to a large chip of mirrored glass she kept propped on the shelf behind the bar, to fuss with her hair. This mirrror also handily allowed her to spy on Tarias as he spoke to Layna, in an extremely friendly manner. And- what that a ring? He was giving her A RING?!

The Southron woman had just about had enough, when he shouted at her, "Hey ! Can I get some service over here, wench ! This man is thirsty !" Ķrimė's hand hovered momentarily between the coiled whip at her belt and the small decorative bag hanging from it, but in the end it went for the bag, withdrawing a small silver cylinder. Leisurely, she refreshed her dark crimson lipstick, and dropped the tube back into the back. "Service?" she replied, filling a mug almost in passing, and setting it before Tarias, "I'll give you service, big boy." With a surprising strength, Ķrimė seized the front of Tarias's shirt and yanked him practically across the bar to plant a passionate smacker right on his lips, that would leave said lips tingling in reaction (helped along by the infusion of chili oil in her lipstick, which she had incorporated in it for precisely that effect). It lasted quite some time, and Ķrimė had to pause for breathe when she finally drew back, before pushing Tarias back into his stool with one immaculate finger. "Welcome back," she purred, flicking her hair so that it smacked Tarias across the face, glaring daggers at Layna in passing, before directing a smouldering look down the bar at Tom, even as Gorchag emerged from the kitchen with the latter's meal.

Almarėa Mordollwen
17/Nov/2012, 02:13 AM
http://img571.imageshack.us/img571/145/layna4.jpg</font></span>~ Layna ~</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>The pubmistress was quickly distracted by the entrance of another patron - a cloaked man, probably from the South - so Laynasettled herself on a stool at the far end of the bar and examined her meal, slicing off a piece of rabbit and popping it in her mouth. It was actually surprisingly good - Laynahad very good reason to be suspicious of any orc's cooking abilities, but apparently Gorchag had not managed to mess this up too badly. Or at least, not yet. She would not have wagered on the orc's ability to be so fortunate for long, but at least this time she benefited.</font>
</font>She had barely begun her meal, however, when the pub door swung open again to admit Tarias, accompanied by a vicious, ugly hound. Layna's left hand involuntarily slipped down to rest on her thigh, near one of her daggers. She was not, shall we say, a dogperson. The hounds of Angmar and Mordor were ravenous, unpredictable, and highly dangerous. A few intelligent ones could actually be useful; those, Laynacould tolerate. But she certainly did not trust them not to attack her, provocation or no. She nodded, coolly, to Tariasas he sat down beside her - although the man often irritated her to the point where she would like to slice open his throat, he had earned her (grudging) respect. The two had, by chance, ended up travelling together from Mordor to Angmar, before the rise of the Queen of Iron, and had consequently spent many days (and fights!) in each other's company.</font>
</font>The dog's name, apparently, was Daimona. She was also, apparently, capable of sitting and being quiet. This was an improvement; Laynanodded her approval in the dog's direction. Somehow animals noticed that sort of thing, even if you thought they didn't. The dark-haired assassin turned her attention back to Tarias, but her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline when the man of Rhūn announced he had a gift. When he actually produced the ring, she did a better job of concealing her surprise, taking the band gingerly and examining it. The stones did appear to be genuine; this would not have been inexpensive. "I suppose I should be worried that it's going to spring a poisoned spike and stab me? Or stab whoever I'm punching - that would be more useful. And you ought to know that I have far less reason to do any impersonating of anyone now that we're marooned here in the middle of nowhere. Although - I'd wager it would take the Dunedain a good while to cotton on that I wasn't Gondorian, if I felt like it."</font>
</font>Tariasreached for a menu, and Laynarefrained from rolling her eyes. This had better not be the "business" he had been discussing, or she would be seriously irritated. "No, I never frequented On the Rocks. Too many other better things to be doing."She smirked slightly at Tarias'description of her activities in Gondor, then turned serious as he finally got around to the important question."Find something to kill or spy one? Be a bit more specific, here. Before you go running off to kill Dunedain and Elves, a plan is usually a good thing to have." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Although I suppose that's why you're asking me - you suppose my planning skills are actually decent? And all my pale skin means is that I deceive them and trick information out of them, and then you stab them. There's a reason why this partnership works so well, yes?"She rolled her eyes slightly. "Anyways, yes, I am bored beyond belief at the moment, and if you actually have somewhere specific in mind with something useful for us to do, please explain, pronto."</font>
</font>He yelled at the pubmistress, grinning, and Laynasmirked. Not a good idea to yell at the staff if you actually wanted good service - unless you had a dagger to their throats and could compellthem to give you good service. The assassin was not, however, prepared for Irimė'sreaction: the Southron practically yanked Tariasacross the bar, and Laynawas not sure whether to burst out laughing or smack some sense into both of them for excessive public displays of affection. Tariashad mentioned he knew Irimė; she hadn't quite realized he knewher in that sense, but perhaps it was not surprising. Also not surprising then that Irimėhad jumped to an utterly erroneous conclusion on seeing the ring!Layna settled for watching the two of them with a highly amused but slightly long-suffering expression, until Irimėpushed Tariasback into his seat, directing a glare at Layna. The assassin's lips quirked slightly upwards, and she held the pubmistress' gaze, not entirely subtly slipping the ring on her left hand and resting it visibly on the bar as she unconcernedly took another sip of her drink. If Irimėwas going to be that quick to make assumptions, Laynawas not going to enlighten her. Besides, it would be interesting to see Tariastalk his way out of this one.</font>
</font>Either way, it would prove amusing. And in this place, amusing was a virtue.</font></span>

17/Nov/2012, 02:28 AM
Hearing that she had good strong ale was music to Tom's ears. Eger to take a draught, Tom grabed the tankard as soon as it hit the bar. It was like it brought life back to his tired bones. As he turned up the drink someone walked in, with a dog no less. Tom peered over the edge of his mug and saw the look in the bar maids eyes as she staird at the new comer. Tom had been on the other end of a look like that before so he knew there might be some entertainment now. Tom watched the dance between the two and laughed to himself. It was the look on the fellows face the casued Tom to let out a chuckle. Though the look the bar maid gave back toTom caused him tosmerked and his view was then blocked by the entering of his meal. It actually smelled good, and it was hot. Better than what he had been eating the past few weeks. His attention was quickly on his food. Tom closed his eyes as he took the first few bites to savor the flavor, the warmth. Then washed it down with the ale. Tom gave a grin at the statisfaction of the meal.

Beren Camlost
18/Nov/2012, 04:46 AM

</font> Daimona inclined her head, massive and unlovely, acknowledging Layna's respectful recognition of her.</font> "So I guess this means you will have the courtesy not to kill my dog ?" Tarias asked clearly. "She's a fearsome beast in melee but Daimona is rather intelligent and she is well-behaved for the most part when she's not defending me in a fight. Daimona was trained at the kennel of the Red Keep before I owned her, Layna, so you shan't expect her to randomly attempt to bite your leg off...relax... You might as well get used to Daimona ; sometimes she'll be along with us on missions...well...when the part of the plan that no longer requires stealth that's so needed." He grinned widely. "Those are the parts I love best." Layna was cautious ; Tarias' enthusiam and lust for battle she often had needed to curb.</font> Tarias was pleased when Layna's dark brows rose when he mentioned the gift. "Just the sight of you, surprised, was worth every gold coin, Khand," Tarias divulged, "it's not every day that someone can startle you. Perhaps I should astonish you more often, Layna - when we're not on assignment, of course."</font> If he did...and she didn't like it....if Tarias endangered the both of them...maybe Layna would be liable to sever their alliance...permanently....</font> He smiled as she examined the ring he had given her, most likely wondering if its worth was genuine or if the object was deadly in anyway.</font> You never change, he thought.</font> Layna spoke and now it was Tarias' turn to roll his eyes. "Layna why would you think I'd try to kill you ? We spent months traveling together ; don't you think I had plenty of opportunities to kill you if I wanted ? Why would I try so suddenly now ? I know how deadly and tricksy you are. I'm not a fool ; you're not someone I would want to double-cross," Tarias snapped at Layna quietly with a smouldering glare. "I am a rough man, Layna, but I do have some honour. You saved my life time and again ; that matters to me, you have my thanks."</font> Tarias began to settle down. "I wouldn't give you anything that wasn't useful ; there is a poisoned spike, Layna, I confess," Tarias admitted but hurriedly added,"to stab others, I must stress." Tarias patted her hand. "I know there's not much acting for you to do here but I don't believe that Layna of Khand will always abide here amid the wastes and mountains of Angmar."</font> He couldn't fail to notice her present hint of a smirk in response, starting to be amused, but of course she was serious in an instant as Tarias spoke of his reason for requesting she'd be here today at the Dagger. "Alright, alright, I'll refrain from being so ambiguous," Tarias conceded since Layna wanted him to be more specific about a new quest they would share, "but you know I have to annoy you a little bit. Your planning skills are not decent - they're brilliant. You're a careful person ; if it wasn't for your intelligence, subtlety, and craftiness I wouldn't have made it up here alive, you know. So come with me ; if I need to be bailed out of trouble or someone needs to punch some common sense into me - " Tarias paused here so he could gingery rub the right side of his jaw, remembering the pain and shock of that first incident "- I know I can trust you, someone I can thoroughly rely on..."</font> There was a very irritatingly prolonged silence from Tarias before he revealed what was on his mind. "I suggest we locate Rivendell somehow ; it's position would be valuable to the Dark Lord. No one knows where it is, of course, but perhaps we can find out ; it ought to be somewhere near the western boundaries of the Misty Mountains because the Halcyon Guard and Dśnedain ouposts we know are scattered throughout that area, am I right ? Even if we aren't so fortunate to discovere the whereabouts of Rivendell you and I will quite enjoy murdering Rangers and Elves along the way, correct ?"</font> When Ķrimė kissed him with fervent ardour Tarias was too stunned too participate well - she had never been so passionate in public before - and the Easterling plopped back down on his stool, amazed, with his mouth (decorated with her lipstick undoubtedly) agape, gawking at<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]. He glanced at Layna as if wondering if she was just as startled by the striking pubmistress' ...fond...way of saying hello....but his assassin friend looked rather amused and slightly disgusted instead. He flicked his gaze at</span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]who gazed at Layna hatefully. Threatening, really.</span></font> "Hmmmm...." Tarias, intrigued, musedand turned his attention back to Layna who....had slipped his ring upon her left hand. Where an engaged woman usually placed the emblem of an impending marriage.</font> "Ohhh, Layna, you devious creature !" Tarias thought of the actress, wishing he could laugh hysterically but no, no...they would play this game. He'd like the thought of<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]jealous.</span></font> The chestnut-haired dame thought she was the most gorgeous, most winsome female alive, that no lady could match her. What if she became frightened that she was not indeed the most appealing woman in Arda ?</font></span> "Unfortunately you might not welcome me back so kindly again ; I must admit, I became rather lonely away from your, er, companionship during my travel north,<b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]<i style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">, sorry to say."[/i]</font> Tarias dared to to entwine his fingers around Layna's own with tenderness ; he looked into her eyes affectionately or so it would appear....seriously, Tarias nearly loosed a gale of rollicking laughter.</font> "I happened to be accompanied by the fairest angel of the East ; I must swear I never had the pleasure of looking upon such loveliness...and immensely enjoying it....ever before... "</font> Tarias looked at</font><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]straight-faced. "I am irrevocably drawn to the beautiful, clever assassin Layna,</span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]; you and I...we have no future together. We plan to marry in the spring."</span></font> Tarias slipped his muscular arm snugly around Layna's waist and pressed a kiss against her white cheek, sustained for several seconds.</font></span> He looked at her mouth, thought of planting a kiss there, one that lingered gently, curious as to how</span><b style="color: rgb0, 102, 0;">Ķrimė[/b]would respond, but he had a feeling he shouldn't push his luck or Layna might give him a cut. Across the throat. Or perhaps use that ring he had given her to inject that lethal poison...how ironic would that be !</span></font> "That might actually feel splendid though," Tarias thought, interested, as his fake but seemingly authentic blissful appraisal of Layna still wassettled momentaraily on her lips. "A satisfying end to life, maybe. She is an attractive wench...."</font></span> The idea receded quickly and Tarias merely setttled with nuzzling Layna instead....that was romantic, wasn't it ? Tarias restrained a chuckle.</font></span>

Edited by: Aigronding Mordagnir

19/Nov/2012, 12:25 AM

Lonely? Lonely? What, did he think that she hung around the tavern looking despondent for her health?! True enough, Ķrimė had quite enjoyed herself in examining the more handsome and interesting specimens of manhood (and occasionally orchood, after all one could not live in Mordor for so long without coming to appreciate the interesting standards of attractiveness in orc-kind) who had walked through her doors since she had arrived in Carn Dūm, but you didn't see her pairing off with anyone, not least getting engaged to any of them. This is what one gets, she thought, when one decides to partially devote oneself to a single man. Hadn't she been almost extravagantly happy to see him come through the door? Well, Ķrimė considered as she watched with disgust Tarias kissing Layna's cheek (applying to it a healthy smear of the pubmistress's own lipstick in the process), if he was going to betray her in such a preposterous manner, she was going to make sure he had something to pay for it.

"Hmm." She mused coldly, raising her hands to tuck a few errant waves back into her coiffure, "Consider me amazed. Really Tarias, I hadn't thought you such a risk taker! Marriage? Dear me." Ķrimė spoke loudly, certainly loudly for Tom and anyone else who might walk in to hear; Gorchag poked his head around the kitchen door with interest. "How interesting. The Queen will be most displeased, I'm sure. I've heard tell that she wants you all to herself- now me, I provide a unique and vital service to Her Majesty, but how do you think she'll feel when she hears that the one man she's had her eye on has gone and gotten himself betrothed to a two-bit assassin?" This was, of course, a pack of lies, but all good rumors had to start somewhere, and Ķrimė was nothing if not a professional starter of rumors, which frequently had greater power than the truth. "I shudder to think what should happen to either, or both of you!"

Almarėa Mordollwen
19/Nov/2012, 01:12 AM
http://img571.imageshack.us/img571/145/layna4.jpg</font></span>~ Layna ~</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>"Fairest angel of the East ..." A complete load of utter nonsense, by Layna's reckoning, and her right hand dropped perilously close to the hilt of her smallest dagger. She slipped it from its sheath as Tarias entwined his fingers with hers, and held it behind his back - out of view of both Tariasand the pubmistress, but undoubtedly notout of the sight of the other patrons in the pub.She did nottrust Tarias as far as she could throw him, which wasn't far. She managed to keep her face cool and collected as he continued to spout melodramatic babble about her beauty; only her eyes would have betrayed both her irritation and her profound amusement.</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>Her eyes narrowed in silent warning as he snaked an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek; now thatwas carrying this much too far. Layna traced the tip of the blade up his back ... slowly... until it rested, hidden in her hand, at the base of his neck, tip pressed ever so slightly against his skin, though not so much as to draw blood yet. His gaze fell to her lips, and she pressed a bit harder in warning. She would notlet him go that far, and best he paid attention, because she'd already given him far more warning than she gave most people before she cut their throats.</span>Really? Nuzzling? And clearly nonsensical hyperbole to the nth degree ...This was his idea of acting "romantic?"It was with significant difficulty that Layna kept a straight face. She, at least, would never have believed even a quarter of what Tariaswas so awkwardly spouting, but Irimėseemed to have taken it as complete truth. The pubmistress was a gullible fool, then, Laynathought, but it was possible she could use that to her advantage.</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>Correction: a jealous, conniving, gullible fool. Underestimating Irimėwas clearly a very bad idea. Laynahad no serious concern for her own position in Amarthel's favour - she was both too useful and too dangerous - but neither did she wish to be the subject of every salacious rumour floating around the keep. For about half a second she debated smacking Tariasupside the head and pointing out the complete fallacy of his claims, but thought better of it. That would do nothing, really, to quell rumours, and would probably just convince Irimėthat she was scared for her own skin, without doing much of anything to put Tariasand the pubmistress in their places.</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>She took another long, unconcerned sip of her drink. "Two details, lovebirds." Just a hint of a flirtatious smile, directed at Tarias. "One - I didn't actually say yes yet. Although since you did ask so eloquently, I'll certainly consider it. It is an absolutely gorgeousring."She waved her left hand around in the air gracefully in front of Irimė, allowing the ring to catch the light.The man from Rhśn could not have missed the wicked sparkle in her eyes as the dagger in her righthand -bit, ever so slightly, into the back of his neck. This one, at least, was not poisoned.Tone changing to a cool, polished, disdainful sarcasm. "And two, the last person who underestimated my service to Her Majesty was Damrod." For the briefest of seconds she let the mask slip, meeting Irimė's eyes with her own utterly self-assured coldness. Laynadid not take kindly to being threatened - not in the slightest.</font></font></span></span>

19/Nov/2012, 01:33 AM

"Oh, dearie me!" Ķrimė cried in mock horror, flapping her hands about in a fair imitation of hysterics. "Not the poor, incompetent, decrepit old fool who used to slump in the iron throne! He must have been such a challenge for such a skilled assassin as yourself! Now I know what Tarias sees in you- such a penchant for offing drooling old men will come in handy when he's a relic himself! I shall have to tell all and sundry in the streets about your heroic deed! Everyone will of course be delighted to know the identity of the person who rid us of Damrod! Except perhaps for his remaining supporters, but what do they know- they've managed to stay mostly out of sight so far, so who would dare come out of hiding to avenge the old steward's death? Your secret is safe with me, m'lady!" Ķrimė swept up her goblet and gave a derisive toast in Layna's direction before draining it at a gulp. In a fit of pique she smashed the bowl of the glass against the bar (sending a fair few splinters of glass flying), and stabbed the ragged end of the stem down into the wood, so that it stood, upright and quivering as she glared at Layna, fingers hovering over the whip coiled at her hip.

Almarėa Mordollwen
19/Nov/2012, 02:22 AM
http://img571.imageshack.us/img571/145/layna4.jpg</span>~ Layna ~</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>Well, she had managed to irritate the woman, at least. That Irimėknew her real name was ... irritating, and Tariaswould be paying for it later, but not too significant, since she hadn't used it in Angmar yet. Amarthelknew it; so did any of the few who had worked closely with her in Mordor. But she had gone as Vellain Damrod's service, and it was as Vellathat she had introduced herself to any of the northerners of Carn Dūm. So anyone looking for Laynawould need a pretty good description ... which of course Irimėwould be happy to provide. Tariashad some fast talking to do if he wanted to get himself out of this one - Laynawas furious, and only Irimė'spresence was preventing her from showing it. But it was those who lost their control who lost the game, and Laynawas too careful for that. Irimė, on the other hand, had reached the point where she thought dashing her glass to pieces on the bar would somehow solve her problems. "Oh dear me." Laynashook her head sorrowfully. "What a waste. You know, Tarias, I quite disapprove - this is the only decent place to eat around here, and now you've turned all the staff against me."She raised an eyebrow, sending a carefully coded glance in Tarias's direction. They would have this discussion - later.</font></font></span>
</font></font></span>"Of course - if I expected a secret to remain safe, I would hardly tell it to you, mistress bartender."Insert light, exquisitely controlled laugh, completely ignoring Irimė's glare."Any of his remaining supporters who wish to come out of hiding long enough to discuss it will be welcome - it will save Amarthel and I the trouble of hunting them down by more conventional means." She took - another! - sip of her drink."Unless you are suggesting that Damrod's demise was not necessary? That you might know the names or hiding places of these supporters?"</font></font></span></span>

Edited by: Almarėa Mordollwen

19/Nov/2012, 05:12 AM
Hear it all, he could. Weather on purpose or not didn't matter to Tom. It was.... interesting to hear none the less. He knew how to keep out of things yet, knew when to pay attention. Eating his meal and doing his best to show he's notlistening to anything he was not a part of,Tom took a long draught and draind the mug. As he looked over the top of his now empty mug, hearing the retort going on Tom laughed to himslef and thought, "Dinner and a show." Now wanting more ale Tom waved his mug in the air trying to ge the barmaids attention.

23/Nov/2012, 06:50 PM

"Oh please." Ķrimė sniffed- a higher class version of the snort Layna's comment deserved. She did, however flip her hand at the assassin derisively. "That's a jump in logic I wouldn't even expect from a low life such as yourself. Not necessary? Really, do you think I would have up and moved my operation if I didn't think the new regime was an improvement around here? As for who I know, I know only those who come into my establishment, and how much they choose to tell me. Of course, one of the sometime-perks of my profession is that drunken people talk a great deal. They say talk is cheap, but I find it can be mightily expensive for certain people!" Ķrimė snatched the stem of her shattered glass from the bartop and leered at Layna. "On first name terms with the Queen, are you now? Hah! See how long you last with that sort of flighty familiarity." Out the corner of her eye, the swarthy pubmistress saw Tom's waving arm, and turned her back on the treacherous pair, gliding back over to her first customer, who was looking more attractive by the moment. "Let me top you off there, handsome." She said dotingly, and filled his mug to a frothy head again, lingering near him after she had handed it back.

24/Nov/2012, 12:15 AM
Tom gave a wink and a nod to the barmaid at teh handsome commment. On the return of the full mug, he also gave her a quick toast and siad, "Excellent fair. Not offten I get grub this fine... with ale to boot." He let a smile slip from his heavy wiskered face, not that it could be seen well. Tom wiped his face with the bottom of his weather staind cloak. Then he look to the barmaid and asked, "Perchance you know of where I might occuire a room for the night?" Tom took a draught from his mug enjoying the taste and the company as he waited a reply.

Almarėa Mordollwen
28/Nov/2012, 09:17 PM
http://img571.imageshack.us/img571/145/layna4.jpg</span>~ Layna ~</font></font></span>
</font></font></font></span>The assassin refrained from rolling her eyes with great effort. Matters had gone far enough. Yes, it had been fun - but </font>Tarias</font>was refusing to do anything useful, and she was more than slightly fed up. She turned a cold glare on the man from the South, pressing just a bit harder to emphasize her point. </font>"Stand up. Now." </font>The dark-haired woman proceeded to march </font>Tarias</font>over to where </font>Irimė</font>was standing, keeping the dagger quite carefully settled at the base of his neck. </font>"Now then.</font>" - she addressed </font>Tarias</font>, </font>but quite loudly enough that </font></span>Irimė</font>could hardly miss it - "</font>if you want to ditch her, fine, go ahead, but I hardly appreciate your dragging me into the middle of the mess and then making me out to be the villain."</font>She raised an eyebrow at </font>Irimė</font>and popped the little spike on the ring out and then back in again. "</font>This is a weapon, not an engagement ring. I came to this pub for a business meeting, not a tryst. And this imbecile here is hardly man enough to tempt me, even if I was of a matrimonial disposition. If he wants to make you jealous, that's his business, though I would think that you might want to be a bit harder to fool in the future."</font>
</font>Now that she had, quite frankly, thrown him to the wolves, </font>Layna</font>waited with no small amount of glee to see how </font>Tarias</font>would manage to get himself out of this one ...</font></span></span>

01/Dec/2012, 04:35 PM

"Well I've no rooms to rent, but just down the way there's a boarding house without too many bedbugs, but as far as civilized inns go... you're pretty much out of luck. In this town, you've kind of got to know someone," Ķrimė raised an eyebrow at Tom suggestively, "to find a decent place to stay. Mmm.. if I didn't already put up with enough nonsense running this place, I might think about adding that to my business ventures..." Her financial musings, however, were interrupted by Layna's raised voice, and the thudding of Tarias's footsteps as the assassin propelled him towards the pubmistress. What now? Ķrimė hissed inwardly, but only straightened slightly and thrust out her hip to receive the fist she planted on it, the other hand resting on the bar as she twisted towards the approaching pair, watching with apparent interest. Ah- so now the chips were down. The big lug had taken it into his head to play a trick on Ķrimė, and look how it had turned out for him! She smirked all over her face, not bothered by Layna's remark that she ought to be less gullible- these mysterious assassin types always thought they knew everything anyway, so why should one care what they said? "Oh, well, then!" Ķrimė simpered, "Tarias, you devious, devious thing you! Tell me, darling-" All sweet sickliness dropped from the Southroness's voice as her hand dropped from her hip to her whip, and her eyes pierced Tarias with the same steel in her words, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

05/Dec/2012, 10:26 PM
Silendra skulked into the pub with the dust of a long ride on her. Or perhaps not - she was often quite generally grubby; but this time there was a streak of mud along one leg which rather suggested she had fallen off her horse (which she had). </font>

She mooched up to the lovely wooden bar - you couldn't get wood like that in Mordor, it was always used up for arrows - and leaned her elbows on it, where they promptly stuck. Whether this was due to the stickiness of the bar, or the stickiness of Silendra, was not entirely clear. Perhaps because of this, she did not bother to push back the dark green riding hood from her hair (currently ash blonde) but merely peered out from it. </font>

Out of all the occupants of the pub she only recognised Tarias. That was fine, as Silendra was not particularly there for socialisation. She was here because this was the only place in all of Middle-earth that was still open and served Screaming Ringwraiths. She would have ridden to Lothlorien itself and demanded a flagon from Galadriel had it been necessary. Fortunately, it was not (and Galadriel was the sort of prissy wench who would throw a girl out of a pub for being sick on the decorated elf floor, etc). </font>

Her green eyes found Irime.</font>

"Five Screaming Ringwraiths please," Silendra croaked. </font>

There was an impatient whinny from outside the door and the sound of what appeared to be hoof stamping and possibly the crunching noise that was a groom being eaten. Well, maybe not.</font>

"And a bowl of ale for my horse," she added, hastily.</font>

12/Dec/2012, 02:05 AM

While Ķrimė was waiting for Tarias to get his act (possibly literally) together, the door swung open again and a filthy disgusting thing (Silendra) meandered in. She watched with distaste as it mozeyed over to the bar and dropped itself into a seat, and her eyebrow shot up when it demanded five Screaming Ringwraiths. "Five?" Ķrimė asked the dirty woman, turning to retrieve the bottle of Nazgūl essence. "Don't blame me when you start clawing your own eyeballs out." She balked at the request of ale for a horse, both because that was disgusting and out of a morbid desire to see what would happen if the obviously ill-tempered animal was refused, but in the end slopped some of the cheapest ale into a dirty bowl. "Gorchag!" Ķrimė snapped, and the orc scurried from the kitchen, to have the bowl thrust into his hands. "Go give this to the wench's horse," she ordered, gesturing first at Silendra, and then at the door. Gorchag looked dubious, but headed towards the door. Then she set out five shot glasses, and set to filling them with the clear, insidious liquid. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Ķrimė asked the filthy thing, "Didn't you come into the old place in Mordor? I feel like I've seen you on a do-not-serve list somewhere." She replaced the bottle below the counter and waited for an answer- but not without shooting a still expectant look at Tarias. Just because she had customers to attend to didn't mean he was off the hook!

((OOC Sil: Feel free to have the horse to whatever you want to Gorchag, short of killing him. I haven't got any other staff yet.))

Almarėa Mordollwen
12/Dec/2012, 02:33 AM
The Dagger

Well. Then. Wasn't Tarias being responsible today. If he kept this up, Layna would have to give him an award. Not. As Irimė was distracted by the entrance of another customer - a filthy creature who wanted ale for her horse, of all things - Layna sheathed her dagger and snapped the spike on the ring back into hiding. "Well? Explanation?" Her voice was barely above a hiss. "And it had better be a good one, or you will not be walking out of this pub in one piece, and Irimė will not be the only one responsible." More silence. More lack of an intelligent, responsible, response.More lack of any sort of apology. And more mounting exasperation on Layna's part. She picked up one of the candle-holders from the adjacent table and blew out the flame, twisting the candle out of the ceramic holder with her left hand in a single quick movement. For the briefest of seconds she weighed the relative advantages and disadvantages of potentially getting kicked out of the pub. Then she took another look at Tarias and decided that Irimė - in this case - probably would just want to join in.

SMASH. The first ceramic holder flew right past Tarias' left ear and shattered into pieces on the floor behind him. That was the warning. "Start talking, or these will get more lethal!" Layna actually smiled slightly - before hurling the (now extinguished) candle straight at Tarias's forehead, followed by another ceramic holder aimed at his jaw.

Beren Camlost
12/Dec/2012, 05:39 AM
The Dagger
Tarias, Decorus, and Serafina

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v138/TheDunedain/Angmar%20icons/Tarias.gif http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigronding/serafinaicon.gif http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigronding/panamonicon.gif

"There's plenty of risks in marrying an assassin like Layna, that's true," Tarias replied casually, resisting the urgency to laugh as he thought about it,"she might throw something sharp at me if I'm a slob or burn supper."

Tarias smirked at Ķrimė, disbelieving her outlandish claim. "I'm an intimate of the Queen of Iron,Amarthel's right hand man. Don't you think she'd let me know rather personally -" he stifled a chuckle, winking at her, as he alluded to the risque manner in which the Delgaran could reveal her particular fondness of him ; Tarias thought it only fitting, this bogus act he had enlisted Layna's help with, considering the innumerable times he had seen Ķrimė flirt with other males, even disgusting Orcs "- if she was interested in any form of relationship at all ?"

Tarias took a long draught of his drink, giving himself a moment to think. "And let's be realistic, if you knew what the Queen had planned you would use every opportunity at your disposal to sway Amarthel to select another man for her enjoyment." Tarias gazed at her. "Wouldn't she ?" he wondered.

"If I'd be lucky to get out of here I'm sure I could find work out of this country pretty easily,Ķrimė," Tarias predicted confidently,"I kill for a living you know." Tarias laughed as he watched Layna grandiosely waved her hand, causing the ruby of the dangerous ring to shimmer in the candlelight ; his mirth ended rather abruptly though as he felt his friend's knife prick his skin from behind. "Okay...perhaps, I've overplayed this charade just a little bit," Tarias begrudgingly thought but was relieved that Layna's blade wasn't poisoned ; at least their friendship seemed mostly intact otherwise he'd be convulsing on the floor right now.

Things went bad to worse ; there was little enjoyment he could find in the situation now as Layna's trust in him swiftly deteriorated. Tarias was sure he could patch things up with Ķrimė- there were...a multitude of ways...he knew would work - but cold, frank Layna would be vastly more difficult to please again. The man of Rhūn foresaw that it would be a couple of months at least before the damage was repaired if he went about it the right way...and no doubt he'd bumble through the attempt sometimes.

"I'm going, Khand !" Tarias hissed, feeling rather uncomfortable as Layna led him at knife-point from behind like he was a criminal she needed to intimidate into cooperation. "Don't you think it would be stupid if I tried to fight you over this ?" Tarias snapped at Layna ; she was the only female who had ever pulled a weapon on him before in Angmar ; it was kind of embarrassing.

He noticed that Daimona was trotting behind them. "You're enjoying this aren't you, cur ?" The dog hadn't alarmed Layna nor had she attempted to violently bite the assassin as yet. Daimona's jaw opened so she could loll her tongue ; obviously the hound had been amused by Layna threatening him. Perhaps Daimona even thought her master deserved it. "Why can't I just have a normal dog ?" Tarias muttered bitterly.

Tarias stood before Ķrimė, wordlessly listening to Layna divulge that they had only pretended to be a couple ; he rolled his eyes when Layna said he wasn't tempting enough to suit her fancy.
Just a moment later though before he could right things with Ķrimė, an old acquaitance of his - the first person he had met in Mordor years ago - named Silendra hailed her which left him alone with Layna who still demanded an explanation.

Tarias stared at her, moving his lips as he tried to form a polite sentence that wouldn't displease her. Goosebumps raised against the skin of his forearms as he watched Layna twisting a candle out of its holder from an adjacent table when he hadn't spoke quickly.

He visibly relaxed as she blew out the flame ; at least Layna wasn't going to force him down and threaten to torch his nose slowly or something else dear and useful to him like his tongue. However, the small pale assassin had other plans Tarias grimly realized as Layna as she collected its ceramic holder in her other hand.

Tarias, swore, dashing away just as the holder was thrown swiftly too close near his ear.
"You didn't give me a chance to speak !" Tarias hollered as Layna flung another candle which he deflected ; she was smiling...he had to be careful when Layna did that, he knew from experience, remembering the targets that had died very gruesome, vicious deaths when the Khand assassin had grinned...which was why he was ready to duck when Layna loosed another ceramic holder aimed for his jaw.

"Enough !" Tarias yelled at Layna.

"No, encore !" a vibrant accented female voice implored Layna from the doorway.
Tarias, recognizing the rich timbre, turned immediately to look at his sister-in-law who stood there beside her husband, Tarias' younger brother Decorus.

The tall and slender woman, Serafina, had a comely beauty and an ever-present smirk ; her eyes were a startling blue color and her long brown hair was tied back. Her clothing and mantle were all black ; the cuffs of her tunic's sleeves were ringed in silver. Her spouse's features resembled Tarias' but those were not as handsome and his beard was thicker ; Decorus' eyes were green likewise but darker than his sibling's and his dark-brown hair was too curly. He was clad in black like his wife but gold thread encircled his cuffs.

"Any knives with you ? If you're trying to kill him, blades would be more efficient," Decorus projected to Layna, his suggestion accompanied by a wide grin, unknowing that Layna was an assassin like himself and Serafina who were agents of the League of Shadows ; they had...business...in Eriador.
"Only warning him most likely, dear. Sadly," Serafina spoke as they both approached the pair ; Serafina didn't like Tarias and had tried to kill him several times before she had married his brother. Serafina had actually tried to murder Tarias on five failed occassions afterwards but this was unknown to Decorus currently ; unfortunately, Tarias seemed protected by luck to much.
"Get out of here before -"

"You won't do anything," Serafina hypothesized, interrupting blithely, "and if you try, I'll add another scar to your chest."

Tarias didn't see either Decorus or Serafina armed but he knew their weapons were concealed.
"This is my sister-in-law, Serafina, and my brother, Decorus," Tarias said to his partner and he glanced moodily at his unmasked relations before introducing Layna ; they always embarrassed whenever they showed up out of the East.

"Boyfriend giving you trouble ?" Decorus asked as he sat a stool at the bar ; his wife sat opposite him next to where Layna had been sitting previously.

"There are single women in the world, Decorus, I will have you know," Serafina informed her husband, rolling her cerulean eyes.

"We're just friends, Decorus. And colleagues," Tarias clarified before Layna could respond with a sarcastic reply though undoubtedly she'd respond with a snarky comment anyway.

"You're an arrogant arse," Serafina announced insultingly with a casual air, "so that will surely never change even if you wanted it."

"Perhaps he fancies the lovely barmaid," Decorus guessed, looking at Ķrimė with a long, approving stare.

"Darling, please be careful with your adjectives in my presence," calm, jealous Serafina sweetly addressed her husband as a slim dagger appeared out of her sleeve which she held against her man's throat with a graceful flick of her wrist.

"I thought you wanted to play with her mind a bit seeing what finger of your left hand you had slipped the ring on," Tarias explained to Layna, ignoring his family now. "I apologize for getting carried away," Tarias said gently, trying to sooth Layna so he wouldn't incite her to throw something else at him. He quieted his voice as he added : "Layna, the woman's a possessive brat despite being flirtatious herself ; she's cute but had this coming for a long time. I could have precipitated this jest whenever I wanted with any broad of my choosing..." Tarias smirked. "But no other woman I've known has the quality I've needed to scare Ķrimė." He shrugged, blushing. "That didn't work out exactly as how I imagined - Ķrimė isn't so impressed with you, I suppose - however you ought to be flattered, Khand." Tarias immediately refrained from assuming anything further."Anyways, I'm sorry ; we're a great team and we've saved each other's necks often - that should count for something, right ? C'mon. You're the only friend I got in this bleak, boring corner of the universe. Well, there's Dhamon, but he's a bleeding heart pansy so I don't like to be seen with him in public."

"Or perhaps this Dhamon is his lover and he doesn't want anyone to question his true nature," Serafina interjected thoughtfully and straight-faced, causing her husband to toss back his head with hysterical laughter.

Tarias grinded his teeth, right hand curling into a fist for a moment ; he hated her.
The Easterling caught Ķrimė's look and, with an inward sigh, he waved her over to him as he took a seat at a bar opposite of where Layna had been, hoping that Layna would return there if she was staying at the Dagger so that way Serafina would be more prone to talk to her than him. Tarias removed an ornate rectangular jewelry box from out of his coat...his present for Ķrimė.

OOC @ Moriel (( I couldn't fit in a segment with Tarias talking to Irime however I will in my next post for sure ))

12/Dec/2012, 06:09 PM
"Five, I presume you can count," mumbled Silendra, finally removing her hood to stare with a worrying intensity over the bar. She was not, in fact, trying to be insulting - in Mordor chances were that the staff would not, in fact, be able to count. "And I know what I'm doing," she added, eyes remaining unclawed and on her drinks.

Champing and whinnying sounds from the stable indicated that Phil was desirous of his ale. He was an enormously cantankerous horse, which suited Silendra down to the ground. Normally, she was in fact a very poor rider, but her bargain with Phil required that she stay astride, and he remained a stallion instead of a gelding. On this occasion Silendra had fallen off, but she freely accepted the blame for this one - she had been ducking an arrow, in fact - although this had not stopped her from kneeing him in the ribs. As it happened, Silendra's latest stolen body was a Rohirrim maiden and so her riding skills had been somewhat improved of late, evinced by the fact that she had actually managed to make it all the way to Angmar, a miracle in itself. She also had a demure, innocent sort of beauty, which did not suit her in the slightest; it made the green rush of her eyes quite alarming on first glance. Or second glance. Most people took a second glance, and it was mostly in disbelief at whatever Silendra happened to be doing at the time (usually something quite appalling).

The wiry orc balanced the bowl of ale and disappeared into the stables where Silendra and everybody else could hear the following noises:
1. A clank; this is presumably Gorchag opening the door.
2. Some heavy horse breathing. Or perhaps Gorchag panting out of fear - hard to tell.
3. A highly unpleasant slurping noise.
4. Some spluttering
5. A very loud scream
6. Miscellaneous clatters, shrieks and neighs

This cacophony was shortly followed by Gorchag re-entering the premises. Silendra had already picked up her first shotglass in disgust. "These used to be long drinks, I swear," she said, before downing it anyway. Her rosebud mouth turned up, slightly, in a sort of wry smile, (she actually had dimples, annoyingly) at the sight of the panicky goblin, who appeared to be missing quite a lot of his shirt and only a small amount of skin. "Spilled some of the ale on yourself, did you?" she commented. "Yeah, he's done that to me too. Waste not want not, that's Phil's...osophy."

At this point the second of the Screaming Ringwraiths hit her and her eyes became wide, pleasant and limpid, or as pleasant as Silendra ever got.

She drank her third drink.

At this point Silendra thought it would be wise to remove her muddy cloak get up and wander over to Tarias - after all, he was an old acquaintance. She was not so far gone as to lay a hand on his arm - instead, she gestured with her shot-glass hand, managing not to spill a drop (her other hand remained lingering on the pommel of one of her knives, although this was not difficult, as Silendra was generally covered in knives).

"Tarias....you know, I think this lady is upset with you," Silendra said in a tone of incredible surprise, looking around her at all the broken ceramics.

12/Dec/2012, 06:58 PM

"Yeah, well, you try importing Nazgūl essence across the length of the world and see how generously you can afford to be pouring." Ķrimė sniped at Silendra, watching her down the first shot, and ignoring the sounds of Gorchag's possible demise. Fortunately, the orc reappeared through the door looking thoroughly downtrodden, but only a bit worse for wear. "Don't drip blood on my floor!" Ķrimė hissed at him- just in time for a candlestick holder to go whizzing past her and smash into the wall. She whirled, to see that Layna was the perpetrator, and Tarias her intended victim. Well, she couldn't much complain about that, although the destruction of property would hardly have been her first choice. Still, if Tarias didn't start talking, she might just take a glass to his head herself. Before the violence could escalate further, another pair stepped through the door, and if they didn't happen to be relations of Tarias's! Who would have thought that the lump even had relations? It appeared that Tarias had gotten all the pretty genes in the family, but that didn't stop Decorus from being interesting, and she gave him a token smoulder in return as he eyeballed her. "For that, Decorus, and what I'm sure is an ironic name, your first drink is on the house." Ķrimė poured an ale and slid it across to him. Serafina's comment about Tarias's "true nature" didn't earn her a drink however (amusing as it might be), and Ķrimė followed Tarias's beckoning hand at a slow sidle until she stood before him across the bar. She watched the withdrawl of the box from his coat with interest. "Tarias....you know, I think this lady is upset with you." Ķrimė glanced at Silendra- given her bemused looks at the debris of Layna's attack, she knew who the dirty woman meant, but chose to ignore that. "Yes, she is." she said pointedly, returning her gaze to Tarias, "and I suppose whatever's in that," she stabbed her finger at the box, "is meant to make that go away?"

19/Dec/2012, 03:08 PM
As the crockery went fling Tom grabed his mug and slid his stool back a bit from the bar hoping the dinnerware didn't find it's way toward him. The sound of the horse being surved nearly caused Tom to spit out the mouth full of ale he had. None the less a little went up his nose, which caused some watering of the eyes, the ale was strong enough but in the nasell cavity it was down right painful. He watched as the new lady made her way to the fella that was having a hard time with the other women. "A thrid, guys got women problems, but not in the good way." he thought. It made Tom give a slight chuckle. "Shaping up to be an entertaining night." Tom thought as he took another sip from his mug and waited to see what would happen next.

Almarėa Mordollwen
22/Dec/2012, 10:04 PM
~ Layna ~

Enter Tarias's relations. Who appeared to be far more dangerous - and far more intelligent - than he was. "If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead already." She pointed this out quite placidly to Decorus. "In fact, he's had my blade at his throat for most of the last ten minutes of our conversation." Clearly, she had absolutely no qualms about embarrassing Tarias in front of his relations. "I am beginning, however, to regret my decision not to." She simply raised an eyebrow at Tarias's awkward and baffling attempt at an apology. "Flattered? That you consider me dangerous enough to take on a gullible barmaid with a jealousy problem? Hardly. Although," she mused, "that does say something pretty sad about the level of company you keep." She nodded to Decorus and Serafina, a not-quite-cold but nonetheless appraising nod. "Mercifully, yes, there are single women in the world. Women who do not - " she glared at Tarias - "particularly appreciate being dragged into the romantic disasters and fiascos of people like this buffoon and his barmaid." She suppressed a smile at Serafina's comment, enjoying Tarias's discomfort and Irimė's skepticism as he pulled out what was undoubtedly another gift. "Last time I checked, gifts in and of themselves never made amends with intelligent women, only fools. So you'd better have some right good explanations to go along with the trinkets." She slapped a few more coins on the bar in front of Irimė. "A screaming Ringwraith, if you wouldn't mind. I promise not to break the glass into pieces over his head - if he continues this idiocy, I'll have far more creative solutions."

03/Feb/2013, 11:25 PM

Ķrimė was really not amused now. This whole nonsense with Layna might have been some overly-elaborate windup that she would scarcely have believed Tarias capable of, but if so he was taking an awfully long time to sort it out and get to the part where he apologized and handed over the pretty shinies that would earn him his way back into her skirts and good graces. She was tempted to stab her stabbing finger a little further, either into the box to steal whatever it was, or into Tarias's eye. Instead, Ķrimė showed remarkable restraint and swept Layna's coins off the counter and into her skirt pocket, and poured her a Screaming Ringwraith, handing it over still smoking faintly with cold. As an afterthought, she poured another and handed it over to Silendra. She might as well go about demonstrating how much better she liked everyone in the bar than Tarias at the moment.

Beren Camlost
04/Feb/2013, 09:52 PM
Tarias, Serafina, and Decoras

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v138/TheDunedain/Angmar%20icons/Tarias.gif http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigronding/serafinaicon.gif http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigronding/panamonicon.gif

"No,sweetheart, this is Layna's fondest way of showing me just how much she appreciates my friendship," Tarias, sarcastic, dryly responded to his old acquaintance, Silendra,and returned his attention back to the irate woman of Khand who had achip on her shoulder the size of Mount Doom.

Tarias would catch up with Silendra sometime during his stay ifĶrimėdidn't poison a new drink or if the assasin decided not to cut his throat. The Easterling was intrigued to discoverwhat Silendra had been up to these last few years ; he wondered if she was still a Gatekeeper in Mordor and if watching Tarias nearly getting himself killed in a cage of murderous birds of prey would interest her for a second time.

"Yes, my husband is rather stylish, isn't he ?" Serafina agreed with Ķrimė who thought Decorus' name was sort of ironic.

Tarias scoffed just as Ķrimėhad swayed toward him ; he should have spoke to her so he could assauge the woman's grief but he could never pass up the opportunity to poke fun at his little brother. "No, he's not. Just look at his hair."

"It's cute," Serafina proclaimed.

"It's a damn puff ball, that's what it is," Tarias shot back.

Serafina gazed at Tarias cooly, ignoring the temptation to maul him openly in public.

"It's a gigantic, appalling mass of fuzz ; I'm surprised you're not embarrassed."

"His hair is thick and curly ! Watch it, Tarias. You are surrounded by at least three dangerous women who don't like you very much right now."

Layna declared that if she wanted Tarias dead she would have wasted no time but now she was having second thoughts.

"Then what's the hold-up ?" Serafina urged Layna. "Certainly Ķrimė has a janitor to clean blood off the floor and to discard a few severed limbs, dear. Don't keep thinking about it, just stab him. My mama always told me never put off til tomorrow people you could kill today -"

Decorus heaved a sigh. "There are many despicable acts I am comfortable to perpetrate, darling, but condoning the murder of my brother isn't one of them."

"Your family has slain and sanctioned the assassinations of relatives before if I'm not mistaken."

"That was a long time ago. We have a more evolved sensibility now... which is why I won't allow you to dispatch Tarias or that Camlost fellow - and niether will I stand or sit idle while you goad someone else into doing it." Decorus shook his head as he gave Layna a look, hoping that she would mercifully forego impaling Tarias in front of everyone.

Tarias rolled his eyes, hearing Layna's remark about gifts. "I bought these presents before I quarreled with you and prior to incuring Ķrimė's displeasure if you will remember," angry Tarias snapped at her, glowering. He realized that ​Ķrimė had gravitated away from him while he was too busy talking ; upset and frustrated, Tarias slammed the jewelery box on the surface of the bar.

"Take a gander at your cussing ring (http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg19/Aigronding/irimes-gift_zps5354f379.jpg), you bratty, jealous, expensive wench," Tarias quietly demanded. Moments later, as he simmered down, he added sotto voce, murmuring in a sentimental tone as he looked into her eyes : "Then let's patch things up, sweetheart."

04/Feb/2013, 10:39 PM
"Really? I see... well, I suppose you know best," remarked Silendra thoughtfully - after all, she knew as well as anyone how capricious women could be. And really, if that was her fondest way of showing her friendship, Silendra frankly felt a bit sorry for Tarias. Maybe she should offer this Layna some tips or something? Although itwas doubtful if it would make any difference as, judging from the atmosphere, Tarias was about to be beheaded by someone in the next five minutes or so. If that was so, Silendra was shotgunning his drink.

At this point Irime poured a new drink for Silendra for absolutely no reason at all and slid it across to her. Silendra gaped, faintly, before shaking her head slightly to make sure that there were definitely two drinks and not just one that she was seeing twice. No, there were definitely two glasses there, and the reason she could tell was that she had already emptied the first one. Plus this one was taller. Still steaming, too - amazing. She lifted the glass to eye level, narrowing said green eyes speculatively before testing the rim of the glass - it actually appeared to be poison free. A risk free, free drink. Truly incredible. Perhaps Angmar was a softer realm than Silendra had previously realised. Then again, Screaming Ringwraith was its own poison.

At this point, Tarias rather petulantly slammed down a jewellery box onto the bar. Silendra's hands reflexively went to her daggers before she realised that the jewellery box contained actual jewellery. The night continued to be full of surprises.

"Ohhhhh," she said, "so you two are.... Right?"

She flickered her green-eyed gaze from one to the other. At least, she thought she did - room was wobbling ever so slightly.

08/Feb/2013, 11:24 PM
Deciding safety was the better part of a good idea, Tom slid off the stool he was on at the bar, with mug in hand and retired to a booth close behimd him. Placing his back aginst the wall and streaching out one of his legs acoss the bench Tom slowly sipped his drink while keeping an eye and ear out at the bar. As interesting as it was to watch it seemed to be hinting on getting dangerious. Tom was never one to shy away from a fight but he also knew when to stay out of one. Besides he had other things to think about at the moment and the raw gem he left at the bar was the reason for this. He had heard that this place was one that might be able to aquire the few things he had avalible.

10/Feb/2013, 03:20 AM

"Yeah, you'd better be grateful, ya wench," Ķrimė muttered under her breath at Silendra's stupid, gaping face. Apparently setting the jewelry box on the counter once wasn't enough for Tarias, and he slammed it on the surface of the bar again. "Mind the decor," she hissed at him with a narrow-eyed glare, sauntering back over to him. "Yes." she said to Silendra again, but louder this time, because she actually wanted people to hear this one, "we are. Or were. Whether or not we continue to be will depend on Mr. of Rhūn here." Ķrimė seized the velvety box in her fingertips and spun it about on the slick polished wood of the bar before popping it open. The Southroness's greedy dark eyes went wide and bright at the sight of the ring, and her full lips puckered into a small O of pleasure; the torch- and brazier-light glinted off the silver band and glittered against the many small diamonds surrounding the dark, gleaming well-faceted obsidian. "Ooooh, my my my." Ķrimė lifted the ring from its cushion and held it up to examine it further before sliding it on to the second finger of her right hand (Tarias was going to have to try a little harder and be a little more specific if he ever wanted it on the left, though it had been a nice try if he was attempting to be sneaky). "Hmm..." she mused, drawing out her consideration for another long moment, examining the ring upon her finger. "Well... I suppose you can stay," she said at last, smouldering out at Tarias from beneath her thick sooty lashes,and making a kissy noise in his direction.

18/Apr/2013, 04:00 AM
Tom walked back to the bar with his empty mug. He looked to the bar maid and raised the mug and asked for a refill, "Another..." was all he said and the word trailed off. As he waited Tom reached into to his belt pouch and retrieved a raw ruby. small in size, no bigger than the tip of ones finger, and placed it on the bar.

19/Sep/2013, 01:12 PM

It was as far as she could travel before succombing to utter exhaustion. That she had come close, once more close to ruin, was not a thing that even Raisa could deny. The establishment appeared less than wholesome from the outside and, upon venturing within, she observed little improvement. It was not beyond her comprehension that she was out of her depths in this vicinity, but well frequented haunts of Bree were no longer an option. And at the very least, if she were followed here, the woman had it on the good authority of instinct to assume that her pursuit would be hard pressed to select her, over more significant offerings.

She was wise enough to avoid eye contact, and inconspicuous enough to pass below the radar of most wary eyes. At least such was her hope. Shuffling the length of the bar, she did not pause in her path but to utter "Ale. Strong," in the direction of the woman who seemed well engaged in tending to her customers.

Raisa's green eyes were as mottled as the most lush forest moss, and these guided her advance as she kept her gaze upon the floor. Caring little for the various that she espied littered about the floorboards, she held herself rigid until reaching the most shadowed corner not already occupied. Only then did she allow her hood to fall back, to convey deep raven tresses, streaked with greying variation. These were tangled and dishevelled, as were her travel-stained clothes, with no small amount of filth from the obstruction of her desperate escape. Her pale lips were flecked with both mud and blood, some of it her own, which she proceeded to remove by means of an obliging and well-practiced tongue. On her brow was etched that any who ventured to see, the elven runes that spelt out "danger", carved deep into flesh, as much as were the lines of time that she could no more cast away. The lingering restraint that still roped one wrist though, that she could dispatch, and did so. The frayed rope fell into the close fire, which crackled with gluttonous enthusiasm.

She was getting too old for this, the woman sighed. But settling back in her chair, she prised forth the most precious bundle that she had bourne from the scene of her most latest crime. A clutch of unmarked books, seemingly insignificant but as to what they might contain. Raisa let her weary feet rake mud upon the table just in front of her, as she leaned back, and her cats'eyes fell about the words which were her next and only clue where to act next, and how.

"Ale," she rasped again. Forgetting both what guarded sense of caution she should employ here, and also that she had no means to pay for the refreshment.

19/Sep/2013, 01:38 PM

Some customers paid in fancy rings, some in coins, and Ķrimė wasn't too fussy which, provided she was paid. Of course, Tarias' payment came with more benefits than Tom's (who received a foaming tankard in exchange for his coin) but that was beside the point. An uncouth looking and distinctly unfashionable female (Raisa) shuffled into the tavern, and it seemed to Ķrimė that the dishevelled thing said something as it passed. It was more like a moan or a shrew being stepped on than actual words, though, and the pubmistress merely paused, watching to see if it might drop dead or explode in a shower of rotting leaves or something. But the thing merely made its inexorable way into a shadowy corner near the fire, rather a contradiction in and of itself, and threw back its hood. This further decreased its appeal in Ķrimė's eyes, although at this thing she conceded to herself that it would probably be more appropriate to refer to the thing as a she rather than an it. This sentiment, however, was immediately erased when the thing clumped her muddy boots onto the table nextdoor. The Southroness's nostrils flared, and her perfectly manicured nails drummed rapidly on the slick, shining bar top. The thing then had the audacity to repeat her rusty demand for alcohol. "I'll be seeing your payment first," Ķrimė hissed, none too welcoming, one hand one her hip, the other flicking out one finger to direct its attention at the thing's feet. "And if those aren't back on the floor and your grubby hands doing their best to clean that mud off, you'll be out the door before you can say elbow grease."

19/Sep/2013, 09:16 PM

"Ale. Strong," The woman repeated anew, drawing her tongue over the words as though she were contemplating a far greater feast than the errant alcohol. She ducked her glance down low behind the books and sighed, kicking off her boots to reveal two bloodied, wart-encrusted feet. The crudely shaped weights dropped heavily to the floor, casting off yet further flakes of what she had dragged in with her, and came to a shuddering halt. Close as they lay to the bounds of the flaming hearth, the very source of heat itself wisely drew back in terror and sought not to consume these delicacies of such bitter scent and sight. The most shadowed corner available was sure not shadowed near enough to hide such a fell apparition. Must have been the presence of the fire at all ...

All this while perusing her texts, without pause. Raisa took one nail-chewed down, grimy finger to her mouth and seemingly strove about that gaping pit to remove some further filth. Bringing the same finger to shortly hereafter prise wax from her ear, Raisa proceeded to spit out a tooth, of undeniable wooden variety, although painted gold, in Ķrimė's direction.

"That do you, will it ?" she enquired, as ever in her strangled throaty tone. "If not then go inform your esteemed employer that I am a servant of the sorceress of Angmar, so he can just go right ahead and add any further "payment" to the tab." She spat again, this time a great glob of some indistinguishable description which shot fast unto the heart of the fire, and threatened to douse the flames entirely.
"Now come, do you mind awfully, girl ?" Raisa clicked her tongue with abhorrent impatience, and gestured for the furious woman to shift. Green eyes glanced up over the rim of her mobile library and dazzled with the woman's arrogant expectance. "You are standing in my light !" she mentioned. "Look. I am marked as the secret weapon for the Enemies of Elvendom," she divulged, with foolish deceit.

These were no simple villagers abounding in the Dagger Inn and she had small hope of deceiving any present. But Raisa knew that should she show an inch of weakness, the frequent clientale here would for certain serve her up as a side order at the bar without the slightest care for conscience. The only way to learn how to survive in such a bleak and hostile environment was to mimic the natives. Judging from what she had seen thus far, they might even assume that she had the means to support her dangerous behaviour. She would have to be outlandishly devoid of all sense to act as she had otherwise.

20/Sep/2013, 10:29 AM

"Employer?" Ķrimė laughed. If there had not been so much venom and outrage in it, it would have been rather a pleasant sound, but instead it was somewhat higher-pitched than her ordinary throaty mirth. "I am the proprietor of this establishment, you old bag, specially commissioned by the Delgaran, came up here even before she did. You're a servant of hers, eh?" She laughed again, but this time it was pitying. "Please. I'll believe that when she comes down here and tells me she's decided to marry a tark." Ķrimė swept out from behind the bar, jingling and swishing across to the corner where the thing sat mouldering, reaching her just as she expelled some foul substance from her mouth into the fire. It smoked, and it was a smoke of inspiration, for upon seeing this, the pubmistress grasped her many skirts, lifted them, and with great precision, kicked each of the thing's fallen boots well into the fire. There was a shower of sparks and a protestation of coals, but flames were flames and always hungry, and quickly engulfed the disgusting objects. Bending at her nipped-in waist, Ķrimė picked up the thing's discarded tooth between her thumb and forefinger. She held it up, wrinkled her nose at it, and flicked it into the fire as well. "Marked? Marked as a fool, I'd say." Ķrimė gripped the edges of the table upon which the thing had decided to rest her scabrous feet, and jerked it out form under them, and out of reach of the legs to which they were attached. "Gorchag!" the Southroness shrieked, and with a dazzling and highly unexpected speed, the orc materialized. She indicated the patch of mud and flakes of skin and other unidentifiable gunk on the table. A rag was swiftly applied, and she turned back to the thing. "As a matter of fact, I do mind. We don't do tabs in the Dagger. You can pay or you can leave. I take gold or blood- not your blood, mind- quality Man, elf, or hobbit. Now cough up, or I'll have my big friend here," she jerked her head at Tarias, "escort you out."

20/Sep/2013, 11:46 AM

The woman caught the arms of her chair to save herself from spilling forward, even as Ķrimė dispatched the table. Her repulsive feet crashed hard against the floor and Raisa shuddered from the force of it. Life amongst the lone lands had certain disadvantages, and a life spent largely on the move made not for the most jubilant of feet. One of the warts on one of her toes bent into a more unnatural shape against the pressure of the surface, and blushed a further more unwholesome shade of green and yellow. With a sigh, the hag leant back again about her seat, letting her collection of books fall like scattered leaves about her leperous roots. She warmed her dirtied hands before the growing fire as the orc, Gorchag, materialised, and started to clear up the mess that Ķrimė had originally bidden her unwelcome guest to labour over. Raisa's sinuous green eyes glowed with possibility as a slow-evolving plan commenced with taking shape.

"It would seem that we are both Her willing servants," The woman's remaining teeth decided, as Ķrimė proclaimed both her independence and unswerving loyalty to whatever a Delgaran might be. "Although in my case, She may not know it yet." Raisa cocked her head and took in the full and overwhelming force of all the bar maid's overly-extensive polishing. "I imagine if she did, she might wonder why you and your boy toy yonder at the bar spend so much time ooogling each other, instead of doing something more productive. Such as her more recent devotees have been engaged in."

Roused as though by new incentive, Raisa took the opportunity to rise from where she sat, hurling her own books into the fire. It seemed that the corner would prove far less shadowy from now, the amount of fuel the blaze now might engorge on. "Those books held the secrets and the means to deliver one of the most irritating scabs of the Eldar that has ever stalked the lone lands," she pronounced, having conveniently destroyed all means of countering the claim. "Moreover information on the movements of recent Rangers of the North. And reinforcements with their beady eyes fixed hard on Bree. It is all up here," she tapped her temple, leering in close to the bar maid.
"You have accepted my offering," she grinned, indicating with one eye that moved regardless of the other, to spy out the fire's recent fuel. Boots serve as well as coal, when needs must, after all. "Now bring me forth my ale. Before I allow your handsome friend there to lay hands on me, and usher me with even greater speed toward the Sorceress herself, so I may tell her all that I have learned of your infractions !"

The foul-stained rags that sheltered her poor frame did nothing to enhance the threat of the green-eyed wanderer. Raisa bore no weapon greater than quick thinking and occasional tools of opportunity that others would find little use in. But for all that she had manage to put on quite a show, in days previous to this. The daring wretch watched Ķrimė carefully for some hint of how this may now proceed. She might have sought to secure her performance as an underestimated threat by kicking the orc in his flat face, but her feet were as bare now as her frail hope for survival this day. She may have been marked as a fool, but she was not hankering to catch yet worse afflictions that would turn a foot toward fouler contortion.

27/Sep/2013, 12:44 PM

"Mmmm." Ķrimė folded her arms, her entire body radiating extreme skepticism. "Secrets of an irritating scab, eh? Rangers? Bree? That's a lot of information, now isn't it. How strange then that you would destroy it now, having brought it so far at obvious risk! If you were going to deliver it by committing it to memory, why would you not have done so before passing through lands where those it concerns would want to rob it from you? Seems a poor decision to me, risking contaminating the information when you're so close to the Queen. I'm quite sure she would have preferred to receive it in writing, rather than have to go through the odious process of listening to you repeat it and having it copied down. But!" the pubmistress threw up her hands, the falsely pious concern in her voice ramping up to near-hysterical levels, "far be it from me to keep the Queen's more recent devotees from her side! How she must crave your counsel. Oh to be such a devotee, rather than a lowly tavern wench, chipping a living from the rocks of the mountain and its slovenly inhabitants! Tarias," Ķrimė had reached her burly Easterling lover by now, and grasped his arm, "be a dear and make sure that our very important guest reaches the Delgaran posthaste, would you? You know how she hates to be kept waiting." With a swirl of skirts, Ķrimė turned again to face the hag, hands on hips- fingers of the right toying with the end of the whip coiled there.

((OOC Ennora: Would you like to have a meeting with the Delgaran? We can proceed to the Northern Lands free RP if you like. Otherwise I'll roll with whatever you post here!))

02/Oct/2013, 12:28 AM

Raisa emnated what she most ferverently hoped was akin to a sense of danger and grand apprehension, while she considered just how far she had fallen upon her face here, and just what her chances now looked to be of escaping the fate Ķrimė prescribed. The pubmistress was expelling what seemed to be some disbelief, although of clear theatrical proportions. One thing became abundantly clear however. She was not likely to get her ale now without some miraculous attempt at a defence. Her unimpressed audience was already heralding a likely end to tonight's entertainment, and for all her gusto about the brawny muscles of the man, Tarias, Raisa was not altogether sure she wished to be wrested off by his immense brute, bootless and thirsty to see her bluff be called.

"I have not stopped for long enough to destroy the evidence before now," she spat profusely, taking up the other woman's lead. If this was as they acted here in Angmar, she had better keep up with appearances, after all. She dared not to offend their local customs of extreme and indiscriminate hostility. "As you say, information as important as this would put myself at great risk. But I would not expect a lowly tavern wench to understand anything more dangerous than her own reflection in a mirror."

"I commit it to memory now because I know just how many people in these parts are likely to steal my hard earned swag, and pass the deed off as their own !" she managed to justify herself, on a minute's notice. A jagged smirk enveloped the lower half of her haggard mask, like an oozing wound. She was fast falling into the trap of believing her own lies. How clever she had been, after all, to have planned this whole thing; that she never even saw the sagacity of her recent exploits until she had deformed them into lies of her own making. She lurched now where she stood, toes curling against the touch of the cold floor, and found herself in the potentially crushing hold of powerful new possible allies, who might well do her more damage than the elf had ever managed. But backstepping was not a thing she had ever been able to manage.

"Move yourself handsome," she urged the Easterling, flashing the bolshy strumpet an arrogant insult as she declared most unwisely, "The Delgaran is not the only one who hates to be kept waiting !"

The whip had not escaped her notice, lingering as it was with almost anticipation at Ķrimė's touch. And all the while, Raisa was still thinking what a fool she'd been to try and hide out in Angmar at all. There was good reason that her pursuit wouldn't follow her here. He was not that foolish, nor prone to even such wild delusions of prowess as the green-eyed woman here was entertaining.

(OOC Moriel: Am about to express you a PM.)

16/Oct/2013, 01:39 PM
This day was shaping up better than expected thought Tom. Yet another fight within hours of each other. Though this bar maid was easy on the ole eyes, Tom knew better than to make anything obvious where she was concern. Liable to crash a crock over one's head when least expected, this one would. So at the moment he covered his mug just in case of any fling debris.

As things began to settle down a bit Tom starting to think about food again and possibly ordering more, but he thought maybe better to wait and nurse his mug a while longer until things died down.

03/Nov/2014, 01:54 AM
Bellatrix the Strange (One-time Halloween Special Appearance)

A fist of pitch night smog blasted wide the door and spewed a maelstrom of insanity into the tavern. The malignant nebula, having exhausted all strength upon the overly-done entrance, dissipated dolefully. The withdrawing vapours rose like fog over a murky horizon to slowly unveil a rather disquieting presence. Her form was mortal, female, although her ashen pallor would suggest she was not yet among the living. A wild tumble of luxuriant corkscrew curls, hued of shadow, were rooted from her scalp and spilt in rampant fingers that suggested an impressive length, not unlike a nest of Medusa's snakes all clamouring for space and dominance down the length of her near transparent neck and pale shoulders.

What must once have proven a fastidious apparel now looked as though it had been worn all the year, without reprieve; stained here with blood and there with worse. The seams had come astray about one arm pit and the waist. The low hem was erratic, fighting to conceal an oil-slick underskirt. Striped stockings of white and black alternate had been gnawed to infrequent holes by either use or rodents, and a pair of scuffed hob-nail boots clicked sharp at the creaking floorboards to lend voice to that amount of time which passed, in somewhat startled observation. Eyes as black as ink were pooled within such extremes of black make-up that each iris seemed the startled epicentre of a smouldering explosion that had stained a frozen lake.

These untamed tools of vision bulged and bolted to all corners of the room at once, although this seemed unlikely and improbable at best. One arm was raised in a half crescent above her twitching head, a demonic ballerina, finishing with fingers coiled wickedly around a wand of walnut coloured wood, and veined by the strength of an emptied dragon's heart.

She stepped, warily it seemed, placing pointed toes as though she walked upon a slender wire, rather than mere cracks about the floor. Then all of a sudden she scuttled, like a spider seeking out a new stone under which to steal away from the sight of a bright brandished torch. When she stood already close enough to touch the woman, Raisa, she contorted into a capricious dance, jerking limbs as though she were subject to unseen strings and a nefarious, unseen puppeteer. Her close quarters and piercing attention gathered Raisa's nerves alight and she shivered unconsciously, turned from calling the bluff of Tarias and Irime, and beheld the wild lunatic before her.

Bellatrix was strange. Drest Stoneclaw's attempt to corrupt a young promising woman via mind-control to be his lover, ever after, had resulted in horrific devastation of the Witch's mental faculties. She now roamed nomadic, like all reckless and unbridled horrors which no home would offer up as lasting residence. Bella was the extreme of a thing gone bad, gone worse. She leaned in close and ran her tongue up the length of the thief/con-artist's cheek with all the vulgar intent of a snake. Raisa recoiled, in horror and bewilderment even as the odd arrival fractured the skull of her victim with a delirious cackle. But before any could even assume the guise of understanding, much less sharing Bella's amusement, the tip of the Witch's twisted baton tickled Raisa's underjaw as the whimsical lunatic tilted her head all ways in consideration of her latest toy.

"Wanna play with big bad ?" Bella made a brief charade of interest, forcing Raisa's head back until the unfortunate pretender was trembling on tip toes. The perils of the clearly arcane tool were then retired, as the virulent shrew leapt high and landed with stamping excitement, several times over. A demented child, who has just received the birthday gift they'd cried for. Round she twirled, the wand gyrating dangerously in one hand, the gathered hem of her skirt grasped most uncivil within the grubby fingers of the other.

Until finally she stopped, still. Beheld the bold, increduous stare of Raisa. Tilted her top-heavy hive of hair to one side, and brandished her wooden weapon, little longer than a pencil.

"Bye bye !" Bella tucked the fingers of her free hand, in a gesture of adieu, as smoke devoured the startled other woman, from her bare feet up. Green clouds of toxic fume enveloped the writhing form of the unfortunate Raisa, although the spectacular performance could not utterly contain the screaming.

Finally there was naught left to be seen of Raisa, who would wake up some mere seconds later i a dungeon cell in the deeps of Carn Dum. A thin sliver of amusement fractured Bella's face, a smile as conniving as a sharpened finger nail cutting through hard glass. Her dark eyes consumed the satisfaction of the moment, before the Witch leapt upon a nearby table, kicked all crockery askew and left disgruntled patrons grasping for her ankles as she flurried out the way she had come in.

She turned within the threshold and spat venemously at the floor, before wagging a finger at anyone bold enough to not avert their eyes. "If you want a thing doing," she cackled "best do it yourself !" The crash of the wooden door behind her marked the final conclusion to what could only be described as an interruption typical within such a dire neighbourhood.

12/Nov/2014, 09:06 AM
~ Thairrim ~

While everyone inside the tavern was minding their own business, watching out from a crowded window were two dull grey eyes peeking in through the dark. Thairrim was watching; a young boy of the Angmarrim, just the sort of folk common and welcome in these parts.

He was just walking by unhooded in the cold night, upon following the trail he found his way to this very pub, He hadn't been to one that could very well welcome his own folk.

He uses an empty crate for a platform to peek through the window, staring into the pub enviously as thou they were any other tavern. He was cold and hungry as usual, and hadn't any rest; not since the hillmen moot. His eyes glistened like a cat, he had no money to spend, and knowing his people they might not even be likely to share, such is the lot of the people of Angmar, the kingdom of the Witch-King long ago; first of the nine fingers of the Eye in Shadow.