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View Full Version : Durin's Day Celebratory Friendship and Renewal of Friendship



corlisswyn
22/Dec/2012, 05:43 PM
http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff382/corlisswyn/Durins-Day-feast.png

The Shores of the Celduin leading out from the main entrance of the Kingdom Under the Mountain is teaming with Dwarves, Elves, and Humans from around Middle Earth to celebrate the start of the new Dwarven Year, Durin's Day. To the to one side a large collection of booths have opened with brightly colored decorations and cheerful yelps and the continuous sounds of games being played. And towards the first outcropping of the mountain from the ground is a large ampitheatre with a good size circular stage in the center, from which minstrels and story tellers a are engaging a lively crowd. Along the edges of the ampitheatre are a hundred easels and granite blocks ready to showcase artwork and craftsmanship.

The hard work of the past several months by all Dwarves living under the Mountain is clearly evident, with unending banquet lines full of food, open pits with hundreds of spits going at full flame, and rows of barrels of ale that would entice anyone. Tables are placed sporadically in the valley, each cluster offering different types of meat, vegetables, roots, and ales, encouraging a slow meandering throughout the entire valley as the feast progresses. Cheeses and dairy was graciously donated by the farmers of Dale, and the King's Claret from the stores of the Elvenking himself arrived just two days ago. The Mex and Burx Uzbans have been carefully planning out this menu, so that every guest, even those that consider lettuce a meal, would be satisfied to their greatest desires.

So, look around, hit up a table, grab a plate, and enjoy! Mingle! Have a spontaneous wrestling match on the green! Find a seat and watch for the arrival of the Kingdom Royalty as they renew their friendship with an exchange of gifts!

Guidelines:
1. This is a celebration, so be nice! Make sure to follow all Plaza rules and guidelines.
2. This thread is a great way for you to experiment with new characters, and multiple characters.
3. All Free People of Middle Earth are invited.
4. If you want to be a bad guy, PM corlisswyn. We've got a job for you too. :)
5. This is an entirely IC thread, so please white out OOC at the bottom of posts.
6. The major events of this banquet are spaced out over the next couple of weeks, so keep an eye out for new developments!
7. Don't forget to check out the Minstrel and Art Show as well as the Carnival!
8. If a Dwarf server does not reply within 24 hours, please feel free to NPC receiving food or drink.
-----Servers include Loni (female), Eikin (female), Lofar, Anar, Nur, Nyrad, and Radswid. Please feel free to embody any of these servers.

RŠnlindŽ Fey
30/Dec/2012, 11:31 PM
Ain't this great, Ran rolled her eyes. Coming full circle and all that, I could've arrived with slightly more style this time.

The day hadn't started all to well for the Dwarfette. It had been a long and dreary trek to Erebor through Wilderland, made even more horrible by incessant rain that had turned every road into a muddy river. But that is to be expected of the season and the Wilderand and was not the main reason for her foul mood. Excitement and fear mingled as the Lonely Mountain drwe nearer; excitement winning with each new step. Its hard not to be excited with the promise of roaring fire, good ale and dwarven hospitality. A long time had passed since she had walked these halls; surely sufficiently long that all old ghosts were put to rest and old hurts were forgotten? Well it was proving that sufficiently long time had in fact passed to make the entrance to the mine look like one of the minor visitor entrances. To add insult to the injury, this particular mining hallway was haunted by a raucous band of dwarven youths hard at play at mining-dust snow-ball fight. Having spend many a pleasant evening flinging dust-balls at unfortunate travelers back in her youthful day, Ran had quickly cleared the scene but was still hit by several of the balls.

A couple of wrong turns later, she finally managed to find some lodgings (not the one she would've chosen but it appears all the good ones were taken due to a celebration of some sorts), changed to semi-dry but less dusty clothing, brushed most of the dust-ball from her hair and followed her grumbling stomach to the celebration area. There weren't many visitors yet (no brawls either): she must be early. Sighing in resignation that she won't have the advantage of enjoying the anonymity by blending in a big crowd, Ran grabbed a plate of roast mutton and a pitcher of ale and settled at a secluded table.

OOC: I hope I didn't mess with anyone's plans by posting here prematurely. A feast appealed to my dwarven side, but perhaps now I'm thinking noone's posting here for some reason I don't know about. If that's so, feel free to delete and I'll just move to a pub.

Dis
31/Dec/2012, 03:54 AM
Dis spent sometime viewing her meager wardrobe before giving up in disgust. It was travel stained and faded. not fit at all for the big celebration. The most presentable was her leather and plate armor she had worn as a royal guard long ago. She began polishing it but quit because she would feel ridiculous in it. She wasn't anybody anymore and it might seem presumptuous to go out in it.

Her eyes fell on the bed curtains. Now there was a pretty fabric. It was red woven in geometric patterns -very Dwarven. She took off the panel that faced the back wall figuring the landlord would not notice it missing and draped it around her diminutive frame. The red definitely worked with her chocolate colored locks and beard and black eyes. She spent the entire morning cutting and stitching until she had fashioned a floor length gown. It was simple with long sleeves and a high standing collar. It didn't need to be a fancy style since the fabric was ornate enough.

She had recently purchased a new pair of boots because her toes had been sticking out of her old ones. The style was plain but that didn't matter: no one would see them under her gown. Her one nice article of clothing was a gold belt so that provided the finishing touch. She owned one piece of jewelry: A gold ring set with a fiery red ruby. She slipped it on before making her way to the celebration.

She could smell the food long before she got there. Such delectable bakey, roasty smells!

When she arrived she recognized no one. All were strangers to her -which might not be a bad thing. But it was a trifle melancholy. No use wallowing unless it was wallowing in food. She picked up a plate of roast turkey with a pile of potatoes and mushrooms -she had acquired a taste for the fungus when she visited the Shire. She grabbed a glass of the KIig's Claret from another booth and sought a table in a corner where she could watch everyoine else.

She spotted such a table but it was already occupied. She cocked her head. The Dwarf that sat there looked familiar. Was it? It was!

"Ranlinde!"

Eafurth
31/Dec/2012, 05:03 AM
Sweyn FÔrktar‚g
Kagam

Sweyn was dressed in his very, very best. He had on black trousers and a bright blue tunic. Draped over his shoulders was a red cloak studded with rubies and diamonds. A golden belt encircled his rather stout waist on which was hung a fancy sword, and shiny black boots and an iron cap rounded out his wardrobe. He usually never dressed up this much, and never wore his weapons of war. Yet on this day he felt it would add to the solemnity of the feast. He looked in the mirror and sighed. He had seen many Durin's Days. And he would see many, many more. Hopefully this one would be as happy as all that had come before.

Sweyn trudged his way out of his quarters and down corridors, up stairs, through halls, under arches, in a long winding journey. There was no hurry, he thought to himself. Him and Khorin had completed their work, and it was to be presented later. For now, it was time to relax and feast!

He entered the feast and saw the tables full of happy and contented Dwarves. A smile grew beneath Sweyn's grey beard as he recalled many feasts like this before. He took a plate of food, piled up with ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, and beans, and looked for a seat. To his surprise and also his happiness, he saw that all were filled! He was glad that so many had turned out for the feast. Yet he still needed to fin a place for himself. He saw two other Dwarves in a corner at a table all to themselves. Perhaps they wouldn't mind company, albeit old looking and grey? He hoped the two pretty things wouldn't mind his own aged looks. Sweyn wasn't unhandsome, he was just oldly....handsome. Yet physically he was still quite young, with an agility and alacrity hidden by his appearance. Genetics, probably.

He walked up to the two and introduced himself. "Sweyn FÔrktar‚g, my ladies, at your service! I hope I'm not interrupting...you wouldn't mind me sitting with you now, would you?" He thought he recognized Dis from the Great Library but wasn't sure, as he had never been properly introduced.

Dwimmerlaik
31/Dec/2012, 05:58 AM
It was good to be home! Dwim had been out on the road for over two years, trading goods, delivering messages and helping rebuild orc-damaged bridges. He seemed to have become a jack of all trades in recent years, although he was of course not a master of any of them, as always seemed to be the case these days. One thing he was particularly proud of though was his relationship with the ravens, the teriffic allies of the dwarves, and most intelligent of birds save for the eagles. It was because of this good relationship that a raven named Grarc found him late one day in the wild and unknown lands north of Mirkwood and south of the mountains. Grarc had been sent to find Dwim and inform him that Durin's Day was on its way, and that he would be late for it if he continued at his silly slow rate. So he of course upped his pace and managed to get to Dale with a day to spare.

A day to spare was a good thing, because after two years of journeying and adventuring, all Dwim wanted to do was catch up with his old buddy from Dale and have a good old drinking session with him. Dwim had sent Grarc to warn his friend in advance (i.e. make sure he had plenty of food and drink stocked up ready for Dwim to consume when he arrived at the house). That is exactly what happened. It was quite a huge night. Dwarves were good at drinking, but Dwim had not had much practice while travelling throughout Wilderland, and so it hit him quite hard.

When he arrived at the fields before the Lonely Mountain, with the Durin's Day celebration laid out before him, he looked like what Morgoth's poop would look like if it had been roasting in one of Ungoliant's armpits for three months before being eaten by a sheep which then pooped it out of its woolen buttocks so that it became a dangleberry that had to be cut off by a farmer with rusty cutting implements. He was in his travelling gear of two years. His black hair was tangled (a fact which he tried to hide by pulling it back into a feral looking pony tail). His face was sweaty and his eyes had large dark rings under them. He still had his sword on one side of his waste and his axe on the other. And he didn't exactly smell like sunshine. But he was a dwarf, so all this way pretty much okay. Surely he would be forgiven for looking like hell anyway. These were days of celebrations, and celebrations meant hangovers! But surely no one would recognise him. He was so much browner than he had ever been, and his hair and beard were even more wild than ever before.

He was hungry. He grabbed a plate and piled beef, pork, ham, potatoes, cheese and bread onto it. He held that in one hand as he held a large tankard in his other, which was promptly filled with beer by the nearest attendant. As he walked towards the closest set of tables, he lifted his plate and lowered his face so that he could have a quick chew as he walked. "Pretty tasty!" he thought to himself. "Could do with some salt though." He looked around for a table with a salt shaker on it. The closest one seemed to be a table which was already surrounded by a few dwarves (Ran, Dis, and Sweyn). Oh well. He marched towards the table, then when he arrived, leant over Ran who was already seated. His long black beard was probably tickling her cheek or something as he leaned fowards to grab the salt shaker. "Don't mind me," he said to the three of them as he finally managed to grab the shaker. "Just need a bit of salt." He put his plate down on the table and vigorously shook salt all over it. He had not used a salt shaker in years though, so the top of it actually flew off, and the salt showered the whole table and most likely its inhabitants too and probably their meals as well. "Oops, sorry..." he said with an embarrassed smile as he sat at one of the free seats and began enjoying his meal.

RŠnlindŽ Fey
31/Dec/2012, 07:26 PM
There goes anonymity. Ran cringed as someone screamed her hated elvish name. One night of too much Orc's Bite in my youthful past, and I'm stuck with prancy elvish name for all eternity. Even half a decate of an exile cannot erase it. Of course someone had to recognize her eventually. Forcing an entire gathol to knit furry animal costumes had a tendency to stick in people's collective sub (and not so sub) conscious and come back to bite you in the (furry) backside.

She raised her eyes, ready to snort in rightful indignation at being interrupted at a proper dwarven activity - getting all dirty in meat juice - when her eyes widened in astonishment. Dis? Whoa! Will wonders never cease? Should I take a bow? After months on the road, taking jobs where available, anyone in a dress would look weird. Seeing an ex fellow Morog and a sister-im-arms desplendent in a dress with jewellery made her acutely aware of just how non-resplendant she was. But she quickly cast that thought away. Bright feathers served only to attract attention of the opposite sex, and as far as Ran was concerned, after DIs' brother, she was done with the opposite sex. They just took away time better spent drinking. With a wide smile, she leaned forward and whispered conspiratively: "Are you being held hostage by your mother who decided you should finally marry? Blink twice if you're wearing a dress against your will!.

Speaking of peacocks, just at that particular time two things happened. A finely dressed dwarf (Sweyn) approached with outfit and manners of a burocrat stamping golden ingots rather than doing an honest dwarven work of digging that gold up in the first place. Ran's eyes narrowed with distaste. She loed gold well enough as any dwarf, but there was no love lost between her and bankers and burocrats of any sort. But he had an amiable face and if he was a peacock, at least he was not some young dandy-upstart. Perhaps he had earned his share of arthritis in the damp mines and was now enjoying the fruits of his labous. With that kind of wealth, Ran had no problem. In fact, was it not for a sweet-mouther banker from Dale, she would be the one enjoying a nice retirement plan. Well, a banker and that other thing.

She started to offer her hand, then noticed her chipped nails and not-so-clean nailsthen thought better of it. Empty stomachs is Morgoth's playground, the saying went. In Ran's case, empty stomach was worse than the fires of Mt Doom, and there was simply no time to wash properly, not at her lodgings anyway. Ran. She nodded at the stranger (Sweyn). Better to be thpought of as rude, than unhygienic. Ran Stoneheart, at your service. She decided to go with a nickname she had earned in the past few years rather than her old name. That one belonged to history, better forgotten. Well a modified nickname, the original one was Stonehead but nevermind that. A newcomer to Erebor, you might say. Our table is free fr anyone to sit ....oooh...

At that moment, someone (Dwim) who had no qualms about showing his pretty unhygienic beard right down her nose decided to take the salt from their table. What was this? Was Dis wearing too much mush, in addition to too much fabric that their table just became a magnet for just about everyone? She wasa abut to fire back a scathing retort, her temper as usual taking the better of her (Stonehead indeed!), her hands curling into fists when...ouch.. One of her chipped nails cut the skin of her palm and brought her back to her senses. Sure, the dwarf looked like something the Goblin King might throw up after a raucous night in Goblin town but she didn't look much better. Look at them, two travel-worn crappy looking dwarves sitting with two polished peacocks. Only in Erebor! Her lips quirking up in a barely suppressed laughter. That's ok, months on the road can make one crave a bit of salt, she said with a wink at the badly battered dwarf. Though this'll kill you slightly faster than this stuff. She eased a hip flask from her belt. It was the last of Orc's bite, a nasty stuff dwarven army used to drink before carnage, knitting escapate or...well.. before anything. This'll knock out too much saltiness. Orc's Bite will knock out all of your taste buds for days, but she wasn't about to tell him that and spoil the fun.

Dis
01/Jan/2013, 12:50 PM
Dis leaned her head close to Ran and whispered, "Actually. it's bed curtains. First decent clothes I've worn in years. Everything else I own is- well, you know how it is when you've lived on the road. I haven't seen my mum in years. Finding a man? -well, that ship sailed long ago. Not much danger of that now. That one -the white haired one with blue eyes -that was interested in me -and I in him. Well, bad things happened, mostly to him. After that I got dropped on my head by an eagle that thought I was a Hoppit. Scrambled my wits. No feller wants a nutter." Dis paused watching the passersby. "Well, would ya look at that. A fine Dwarven dandy(Sweyn), albeit a little old." She giggled. "And he's headed this way." As he got closer she observed. "Actually, he's not bad looking at all. Looks plump in the pocketbook too." She did not say it but she also thought he looked like he could buy lots of good dinners and nice clothes. She had seen him in the library. He struck her as a scholarly sort.

Dis was about to introduce herself when another Dwarf(Dwim) helped himself to the salt shaker while whacking Ran in the face with his tangled and crusty -at least it looked that way to her -beard. When He went to salt his food the lid flew off and landed in her plate along with a good deal of salt. Her roast turkey looked like it was burried under a pile of snow. She sighed. It was to be her first really good meal since arriving in Erebor. All she could afford to stock her cupboards with was beans. Beans for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She had another dinner that would have been good except for the attack of the vapors the drink she ordered gave her. Blue flames coming out both ends for a week. "Oh well, I enjoyed thinking how good it was going to taste."

Dwimmerlaik
01/Jan/2013, 02:27 PM
Dwim was a bit relieved that his recklesness hadn't resulted in too much hate directed his way. In fact, it seemed as if it had resulted in an offer of something a bit more precious than hate! Ran was quick to inform him that things were okay, and was just as quick to produce a flask from her hip regions. He knew from experience, as any good dwarf knew, that anything contained in a hip flask was valuable and tasty and not so good for the senses. He was still young, only in his early thirties, so had not yet found anything nasty contained in a flask. Depends on your definition of nasty though, but most harsh alcohols were fine by his tongue's standards. He could not have suspected anything as nasty as the Orc's Bite which was hidden within.

The black bearded dwarf wasn't completely certain that Ran had produced the flask to offer to him. But she seemed to hold it out in the open for long enough without taking a swig for herself for him to believe that she actually was offering it to him. "I could do with a bit of killing," Dwim said as he eyed the flask and eventually reached for it. "Thank you dear." He brought it to his mouth and took a swig of it, thinking it to be some form of liquor he was used to drinking on special occasions, perhaps some kind of dwarvish ethanol or something. But as soon as it hit his buds and his throat, he realised he was dealing with something else entirely.

"AAAARGHHHH!!!!" he roared as he downed it, managing somehow not to gag. "It's as if an orc is biting my throat! Tearing and gnashing and gashing my vitals! What is this???" He coughed and spluttered a bit, then groaned for a little while as his belly dealt with what it had just been dealt with. "What is it?" he again asked, not having ever come across anything as nasty as that, although he felt a little bit more furiously filled with dwarvish pride than ever before. Anything nasty just made one more tougher. He handed the flask back to Ran.

He gave himself a bit of time to recover, leaning over in his seat and letting himself process what had just happened without throwing up. He was still hungry and needed to eat. Vomit would not be good right now. He looked to the others, Dis and Sweyn. Perhaps they knew what he had just drunk. Unfortunately, Dis was just staring at her plate rueing the assault of salt that had been showered upon it. Dwim felt bad for ruining her meal. He would have to make up for it.

"Sorry, everyone. I seem to have made a very bad first impression." He looked at Dis apologetically. "Whatever can I do to make up for spraying excessive salt on your meal? I saw some nice beans being cooked over there at the tents of the Uzbans. How about I go fetch you a nice plate of beans to try and recompense?" He of course had no idea that she was sick of beans, but it seemed like a good offer to him.

RŠnlindŽ Fey
01/Jan/2013, 09:04 PM
Well weren't they a sorry lot? Dis was making dresses from bed curtains an Ran... well she didn't even have bedcurtains to turn into a dress. Years of service in the Anghak (old dwarven army), years of exploring and mining in Morogs and what they had to show for it? Bed curtain dresses. Ran was unsure whether to laugh or spit from fury. She had spent many a month in a white hot fury against the sleazy Dalish banker, but lately resignation and bitterness were replacing the blazing fury. She didn't like that one bit. Resignation didn't result in revenge and Ran wasn't about to let the scumbag slide. As soon as she recuperated a bit and perhaps gathered a party of vigilantes, she was off. She made a mental note toraise the subject with Dis at some more private opportunity. She could definitely use some funds and if they were successful in retrieving hers, well Ran had more than enough to pay handsomely.

Luckily, further wallowing in self pity and vengeful thoughts was prevented by the young, also not very furtunate Dwarf, accepting the offered Orc's bite. He took a bold swing and the results were expected. Though a bit disappointing. What do drink to get hammered nowadays in Erebor? Rivendell Mountain Dew? she exclaimed with barely hidden disgust, rolling her eyes at Dis. The sparkling mild elvish wine was hardly a drink fit for a Dwarf.

The youngster caughed like he was going to choke and Ran felt symathy replacing exasperation. She remembred how on her first try of Orc's bite she had nearly fainted. It was definitely an acquired taste. She patted his back. Its Orc's bite, and it should feel that way. Then it'll wreak havoc in your stomach like Smaug's fire. By the time it reaches your bloodstream, you will want for no other drink. And you will fight or brawl like a real Dwarf!

Aaah brawling, a favorite past-time of Dwarves. For a moment, Ran was transported back in time when Orc's bite flowed like river and nearly every week a pub brawl tournament was held. Her specialty was throwing around mithril rolling pins but the bastardly banker stole even those. Oh well, she could make do with chair legs if the occasion demanded it. And participating in a brawl not only offered a decent dwarfish fun, but it would also allow her to judge her two companions. The rich dandy looked like he might have the means and interest to invest in a little adventure, while the youngster might be interested in joining.

Ran took her flask and tossed back a healthy swing herself. Coughing (one could never get quite used to Orc's bite), she offered the flask to Dis and Eafurth. This was her last flask, but now was the time to finish it off as good as any. And nothing incited a fire in a Dwarf's veins like Orc's bite. And loosened tongues. And loose tongues were equally useful tools in estimating hr companions like brawls. Either way, Ran would learn some useful information.

So, I see you have travelled alot, she addressed Dwim. May I ask where? Adventure?

To Dis she said: An eagle? Where'd you encountered an Eagle?

Eafurth
01/Jan/2013, 09:36 PM
Sweyn could not help but notice the looks he was given by the two Dwarfettes. He chuckled inside. They probably thought he was some grand rich Dwarven banker, or some high and mighty politician. He wouldn't blame them for thinking so; he would have thought the same if they were him. If only they knew! The outfit was his father's, and his father's father's, et cetera, and he couldn't quite recall how it had come to his family. Sweyn was not a rich Dwarf. He wasn't living on beans and rice, he had enough to get by with a little left over. He wasn't above anyone, he had worked in the mines in his youth. He had fought in battles, he had seen adventures, he had made long journeys. Yet the rebuilding of Erebor had called him back to his true home, the library. There he would help reestablish the name of Durin's Folk.

He took a seat at the table as he heard the others introduce themselves, smiling and nodding as his loaded fork entered and withdrew from his mouth repeatedly. Soon he smelt another figure approach. He looked up to see Dwim, another Dwarf that he sadly did not recognize. He looked like an interesting fellow, one ho had seen much. Sweyn decided that when the feast was over, he'd take Dwim to the library and interview him, and maybe write a book or three about him. This guy was pretty awesome.

Sweyn's opinion of Dwim skyrocketed as he showered salt over all the food. Not only did he have great taste, he was sharing it with all of them! "Now that's what I call tasty!" Sweyn stated as he reached over and clapped Dwim on the back. Ran took a drink of her flask and Sweyn's mouth began to water. It looked something kind of extra good!When it came to the next to Dwim, he began to roar and writhe and sat back in his chair as the liquid surged into his stomach. MMMM-MMM! thought Sweyn. "Just what we need to get this celebration started, thank you!" he said to Ran as he took the flask.

Gripping it tightly, he poured a mouthful in, let it set a moment, and garged it a bit. His eyes grew wide as his mouth grew icy hot, and with a great big gulp he swished it down his tube. His eyes remained as big as ever, and after a moment of catching his breath, declared "That's best bite I've ever gotten from an Orc! Where do you get this stuff?"

Ran asked Dwim about his travels. He seconded the question. "Yes, yes, tell us now!" His eyes weren't quite clear, or straight, but Sweyn was mighty happy to be here.

KhŰrinStrongart
01/Jan/2013, 11:11 PM
KhŰrin was feeling very dry in the throat. He'd been having fun at the fair but now he felt like getting something down his throat. He walked towards a few of the tables, and noticed one that had already aquired a few dwarves. Giving them a good look he recognised Dis, then Sweyn from the Kagams and then, and here his jaws dropped, a face he hadn't seen in many years. And his ears caught two words that sent him hurtling towards the long table.

"Did I hear the word 'Orc Bite'?" He slammed his behind onto a bench and leaned over the table. "Mahal's beard! If that isn't the notorious rolling pin swinging, leg braids wearing terror of the Anghak! Ran, where have you hidden out all these years?"

KhŰrin ignored the others at the table, except for giving Dis and Sweyn a short nod. His eagerness to get at least a swig of Orc Bite was far too great. The last dwarf (Dwim) he didn't know at all but he saw that there was a sharp concurrent for the longed for swig.

Dis
03/Jan/2013, 12:15 AM
Dis stifled a grin as Dwim was experiencing his first throes of sampling Orc Bite. He was in for a nice surprise later when it went out the other end. In those new to it, it tended to clear up any digestive issues by commanding everything to forward march double time.


Ran asked her about what they drank in Erebor. "I don't rightly know yet. This stuff tastes good. More like juice. I avoid downright intoxication these days. Makes me rattle on fearfully -makes everyone's ears bleed. You should try Smaug's Ghost or better yet, get someone else to try it and watch them. Makes 'em belch and fart blue fire. Best fireworks show ever." She bit her lip as Dwim leaned over trying to keep the stuff from making a second appearance. When he apologized for his first impression and offered to get her a bowl of beans she said. "Oh, no thanks, I'm on a diet." It was a glaring untruth as she was probably the smallest and slimmest Dwarf there and could do with a few extra pounds. "You've actually been -ah-erm entertaining!"

Right then Sweyn volunteered to have his innards assaulted and provided a second round of entertainment.

She accepted the flask from Ran and took her turn. She just smiled and turned as red as her dress as it went down. With the upset it put her stomach in, she was fine with no food now. "Still tastes like Warg whiz. Eagles, did you say? I had wandered into goblin territory in the Misties and she plucked me out of trouble, you know like Thorin and co. She kept me in her eyrie for a while and brought me the fattest rabbits. She thought I was crazy for roasting them." She stopped wanting to hear Dwim's adventures. Khorin right then crashed into the bench beside her. He, apparently knew Ran as well.

It was turning into a proper Dwarven party. The evening was young and there was many an adventure to relate. She just needed to keep some of hers back.

Dwimmerlaik
03/Jan/2013, 04:40 AM
Dwim's face brightened with pride when Dis mentioned the Ghost of Smaug, that crazy blue drink that was served up in bars these days. "Ah! Smaug's Ghost!" he replied. "I've got a bit of a family connection with that stuff. My old uncy Arkhan, the barkeep up at Durin's Boot, was the very first dwarf to sell that drink. He convinced my dad to give me a sip when I was just a little bub. You don't want to know what my nappy looked like after that one!"

It was quite the gathering now, and Dwim realised he still had not introduced himself to them all. Having been away for a while and not having done anything particularly noteworthy in the mountain, he was sure that none of them would know his name. "Well now that we're passing the drink around like good old friends, I should introduce myself I think!" he said to them, seeing that the floor was pretty much now his to speak, especially since they seemed to be waiting for him to tell a story about his adventures. "I am Dwim son of Fam, born under the Mountain. Friend of ravens and wayward adventurer. It is a pleasure to meet you all." He went around to them all, Dis, Khorin, Sweyn, and Ran, shaking their hands and resisting the temptation to give them all friendly headbutts.

He was of course dragging things out, to build some suspense before telling something of his journeys in the western lands. "Alright, well the story starts almost three years ago. Ever since I was little I've had a special friendship with the ravens. Such wise birds they are! I was sent out to make for the Blue Mountains, to help build a new tower and roost for the colony of ravens over there, much like we have here at Ravenhill, though somewhat smaller. With me came Crarc, my raven friend who might be here later to meet you all, and another raven - one of Roac's ambassadors - to help organise the process.

Can you believe, however, that I spent the majority of my time repairing bridges and homes in one of the villages near Eriador! You see, I didn't have any money left, and my pony had fallen down a hill and lost my gear. So in return for accommodation I had to help repair orc damaged buildings for these nice village men. I never like to leave a job unfinished, even if it meant I didn't get my initial job started! So I spent many months with these men, and have made some very good new friends. Then there was the time in the Shire where a hobbit lad vomited on my boots and a lass named Vinca wanted to fight me. After that, I eventually made it to the Blue Mountains, and there we finally started the job of making a new home for the ravens. Currently we're establishing a flight path for swift communication between the Lonely Mountain and our friends over at the Blue Mountains."

"Aaah! Thinking about the damage those orcs did to that village has suddenly made me feel very firey! It must be that Orc's Bite! Who wants to challenge me to an arm wrestle?? I need to burn some energy!" He took a huge gulp of his beer, some of which ran down his beard. He now had a fire in his eyes which made him look quite like a warrior. Who would challenge him to this arm wrestle?

RŠnlindŽ Fey
03/Jan/2013, 09:57 PM
The events at Durin’s day were definitely starting to develop into a proper Dwarven party, partly due to Orc’s bite’s intoxicating and brawl-inducing capacity.
"That's best bite I've ever gotten from an Orc! Where do you get this stuff?" exclaimed Sweyn the dandy dwarf. Ran had to give it to him – he took the vile stuff down like a dwarf. This came from my own stocks. There was a time when I kept at least one barrel at home, to help me sleep. When left…ahem.. away, I took a small one with me, to warm me in the cool nights. It did. And this is the last of it. Old Burx Uzbans used to make it but ever since we bro…erm.. visited their stores one crazy night, I was an unwanted guest there.
A disturbing thought occurred to her. The arrival of Khorin momentarily chased it away though and she couldn’t help but smile. He was his usual charming self, though most of that charm was now projected at the flask of Orc's bite. She waved her hand at the flask, offering it to Khorin. When it came to partying, Ran was a typical Dwarf, partying and drinking came before everything else. Even sad thoughts about the last of Orc’s bite. Speaking of Orc’s bite, the disturbing thought was back.
You don’t think they’ve lost the recipe, do you? she asked Dis and Khorin apprehensively. Maybe we ought to check?I mean why isn’t it being served any more? Surely there’s some hidden stash? THERE MUST BE! She was getting really worked up about the whole issue of missing Orc’s bite. Taking a few deep breaths, small swing of the OB, she managed to calm down enough to listen to Dis’ and Dwim’s recount of their (mis)adventures. (OOC: I'm up for a fun, laid-back ransacking of Burx's stores in Clan's thread or wherever at some point if there are any takers.)

There was something dodgy about Dis' eagle story but Ran couldn’t put her finger on it. It was not unheard of for Eagles to carry passengers, but it didn’t occur that frequently either. Otherwise they wouldn’t be called eagles but mules. And how did you summon that eagle? Dwarves communicate with raven’t and they’re not related to eagles, are they?
Dwim recounted his tale. He sounded a bit like an absent-minded master craftsman in love with his work. It was rather endearing really. When he started talking about ravens, Ran felt a curious mixture of irritation and a pang of guilt. Not once did she thought of the raven she had bonded with under elvensong’s tutelage so many years ago. Nah, not once had she thought about that wretched bird ever since she went on her journeys. Mahal’s hammers, one of the reasons she went away might have been her silly, valley-girl-type raven. I admire you for your skill with ravens, she said to Dwim. I myself am completely incompetent in that area. The only raven that bonded to me had attention span of no more than 1 second and intelligence of a dead slug. The wretched thing flew itself repeatedly into walls, the only thing that could keep her interest were glittery things, mirrors in particular.

The orc’s bit was now wreaking havoc in Dwim’s system and he challenged them all to arm wrestling. She was never a strong one to begin with and preferred ranged attack (with rolling pins or otherwise) to hand-to-hand combat. It tended to get too messy. Although in the past several years she had definitely gotten accustomed to the messy part and had also grown stronger, wirier. But still... no. She wanted to keep a few of her newly acquired skills a secret for a while longer.
I believe this is a gentledwarf’s type of sport, she said with a challenging look towards Khorin and Sweyn.

KhŰrinStrongart
03/Jan/2013, 11:34 PM
KhŰrin listened to Dwim's chatting about building and recognised a dwarf who could be equally passionate about his work than KhŰrin was about his own. Then Ran said something that really upset KhŰrin.

"What. Lost the recipe? I surely hope not! I've already been wondering why the inn doesn't carry Orc Bite. To lose that recipe would be... would be... would be just undwarfish!" He upended the last from the flask Ran had handed him. "I think we should take a look at the Burx! Since not may others seem to be missing Orc Bite maybe there is a lonesome keg somewhere." He gave Ran an innocent look.

Dwim challenged them to an armwrestling match. KhŰrin coughed. "Erm. Armwrestling isn't quite my thing. I'm a bit - out of praxis." That was a lousy excuse as most dwarves were naturally brawny but KhŰrin didn't like physical combat. He was afraid of hurting somebody. There was something dark lurking within him, although the demon emerged mostly when KhŰrin was in great danger. But then it was as if it took over and KhŰrin had no control over his actions anymore. He put the thought aside.

"I wonder that eagle dropped you on your head, if you say it cared for you. That sounds like it seemed to be angry." He gave Dis a questioning look.

Eafurth
03/Jan/2013, 11:49 PM
Sweyn listened to all the tales which suddenly came pouring out and all of his work in the mines, his combat experience, and his book knowledge vanished. He was so boring! Why, he hadn't even known what Orc Bite was, let alone tasted it, until just a moment ago. They spoke of it as a long gone friend. At the talk of a hidden stash his eyes lit up. He addressed Ran and Khorin saying "Whatever assistance a Kagam can be to you, you've got it. That stuff was mighty fine!" He clapped Khorin on the back and laughed. "Out of practice? Yeah, suuuure....you're just afraid of this well-traveled and wise Dwarf here." He gave Dwim a nod and moved over.

"Hobbit vomit on your boots? That sounds like a tale in itself! Maybe some other time you'll let me write it down? That would be quite a thing for the history books. I don't think anyone's ever had that happen before. And arm wrestling? Sure! I may be a lttle old and little out of practice", and here he gave Khorin a wink, "but I can lose as good as any Dwarf."

Sweyn cleared some plates away from the table, thankful he had only eaten a little. The Orc Bite had gone straight to his head and he was ready for anything. He placed his elbow in the table and giving Dwim a serious look said "Now don't let your elbow up, that's not fair you know." He held out his hand to the adventurer, certain of getting beat. Any kind of loser was better than no player, he thought to himself as he looked at the others who appeared to be too shy to show off, or too embarrassed of losing (more likely!). He was ready to have some fun!

Dis
04/Jan/2013, 09:39 AM
"They're not related to ravens at all. In fact sometimes stupid Ravens make it a sport to harass them,"Dis replied to Ran's query about the Eagle. "Stupid Ravens with a death wish. I didn't summon her, she just wanted to ruin the goblins sport. I thought I was going to be supper so I squirmed out. She wasn't squeezing me hard because she didn't want to poke me. I didn't fall far but it was far enough. When she carried me thereafter, she held me more securely and I didn't wriggle. Keera was an odd one: Curious about things the others thought she shouldn't be. I set her straight on the difference between Hoppits and Dwarves. I taught her to play cards but quit playing with her after she beat me twelve times: She was reading the reflection in my eyes of my cards. Their eyes are huge for good reason. She actually put me down on the back side of the Mountain, skipping over the forest. She went home but not without threatening to come see me sometime, which I hope she never does. The others have the sense to stay away from where there might be archers. She looks ferocious but she's only that way to her dinner. I'd hate for any harm to come to her. I can't think of a way to summon her unless I knew she was about. All I would have to do is look up and wave." Dis picked up her plate and tossed it over her shoulder. The clean up crew would take care of it later. "Now about Orc Bite. I was in the kitchens a bit ago rai- er checking the pantries for something -ehm to add variety to my diet. They had some dusty barrels of something in their stores. Maybe the recipe is there too. I know one of the ingredients is Dwarf sweat -explains the old socks smell."

OOC: I'm up for a raid!

Dwimmerlaik
05/Jan/2013, 03:49 AM
Dwim laughed as Ran explained her lack of skill with ravens and how she had bonded with an unfortunately unintelligent one. Apparently it'd had a bad habit of flying into walls and was only interested in glittery things like mirrors. That sounded like a pretty bad combination. "Well, I hope she hasn't made a habit of flying into mirrors," Dwim said. "It would make a nasty mess and be quite dangerous. Besides, glass is hard to come by in these parts, and very expensive. We can't have ravens going around smashing mirrors. Not that we dwarves have to be particularly fussy about our appearance. But visitors to the mountain do seem to like having them in their rooms, them pretty elves particularly."

"Yeah, hobbit vomit, can you believe it?" Dwim responded to Sweyn. "Why anyone would want to read about that is beyond me! But I guess it is pretty unlucky and quite an in interesting tale for those with a perverse interest in the misfortune of others. In any case, I'm a good sport, so sure, I'll be willing to be interviewed!" The young dwarf smiled at the thought of perhaps even becoming famous. Was Sweyn a well known writer? If his book was received well, would Dwim receive some kind of profit? Speaking of profit, Ran's plan for a stealth mission into the stores of the Burx Uzbans in search of some Orc Bite was an exciting one. The thought of it was exciting. He wanted to master the crazy bite of that drink, which he had sampled today. "Count me in too!" he said enthusiastically.

Dis' tale about teaching the eagle to play cards was really quite amazing, and if it wasn't for the pressing issue of finding someone to arm wrestle against, he would have asked her some questions about it. He had been quite concerned about his challenge first being turned down by Ran, and then by Khorin, that he started to wonder if he would have to go challenge someone from another table. But soon enough Sweyn stepped up to the plate like any good hardy dwarf should. "Very good Sweyn!" he said with a smile and helped clear some of the plates from the table which was now an arm wrestling arena. Dis suddenly tossed a plate over her shoulder without a care in the world. "Hey! I didn't know we were allowed to do that!" he exclaimed. But apparently they were allowed to, so he did the same and grabbed his plate which was now just holding empty bones, and threw it over his shoulder.

Sweyn warned Dwim against not lifting his elbow up as it wasn't fair, which Dwim quickly responded to. "Listen mate, if I didn't know the rules of arm wrestling, I wouldn't be going around challenging people! Now you just worry about keeping your arm from hitting the table." He grinned and put his own elbow on the table, and pulled up his sleeve so that his muscly arm wouldn't slip. Then he grabbed Sweyn's hand and tried to intimidate the older dwarf by trying to crush his hand with a strong grip. But it was never a very useful tactic trying to intimidate an older dwarf, and this tactic probably was only going to give his opponent more reason to want to do his very best to beat him. "Alright, on one, we wrestle. Three... two... one!" Dwim put all his strength into his arm, visualising it as a heavy piece of iron, and fought as best he could against Sweyn's strength. Perhaps he had got in early enough to overpower his opponent, or perhaps not. He'd have to wait and see!

OOC: I'm up for it too!

RŠnlindŽ Fey
06/Jan/2013, 09:06 PM
Finally, a taker for the arm wrestling mach. Just because she didn't want to wrestle (yet), didn't mean Ran didn't want to enjoy it. And what's a wrestlin (or any kind of match really) without bets?! A boring affair, more fir for the prissy courts of the elves than halls of the mighty dwarves. She waved a hand at a nearest server - A round of your strongest drink and be quick about it!

As the server produced the drinks with amazing speed (maybe he didn't want to agitate an already excitable group of Dwarves), Rna quickly assessed the contents of her money pouch. It was dismally flat with only a few coins but Ran's blood was boiling from the Orc's bite and companionship after long months of solitude and the booze and food was free on Durin's Day feast so she was saving money really. In any other occasion, she would have to spend the money for food so spending it on a bet where she can actually earn some more justified the risk really. All this reasoning happened in a blink of an eye, and Ran slammed a silver coin on the table and shouted: A silver on the dand...erm... Sweyn!Dwimrolled up his sleeves and Ran momentarily wondered whether she had placed the bet on the wrong dwarf. Swim had the muscles of a builder, strong and endurance of youth. Well it was too late now. With Sweyn Ran was counting on experience and cunning that came with age. And she chose him precisely because he looked like a banker -despite the hate, she learned to respect the cunning and instincts of a well-to-do business-men. And in any rate, she did not intend to lose, whatever it took.

OOC Sacking of Burx stores > I'm gonna post in Clans under the Mountain thread in a sorrt of a time loop as if we're sacking the stores after this party's over so that we don't have to leave this story-line. See ya there! <

Eafurth
06/Jan/2013, 11:20 PM
Sweyn finally realized what he was doing. The Orc Bite was beginning to wear off, but it was too late to back off now. Maybe n his youth he could have won, but now....no, certainly not. "Ah yes, my arm!" he yelled, and quickly picked up a cushion that sat on one of the seats. He put it right where he expected his arms to go through the table. "There, that's better!" Now if he did lose, or rather, when he did lose, he would only be bruised for six months, and not have to get a prosthetic or whatever it was the Yukogs called it. Thinking on it, that might look pretty neat! He could get attachments for it, like a quill holder, a claw, a spike, a toothbrush, he could pole vault with it....the possibilities were endless! Sweyn quickly removed the pillow. "All right, now I'm ready." he growled, trying to o look ferocious. He knitted his brows, crossed his eyes, puffed out his cheeks, and wiggled his ears. That ought to scare Dwim just dandy!

He placed his hand once more in that of the adventurer. The signal was given and he began to squeeze and strain. It was a funny sight, the cross eyed puffed out Dwarf jerking his arm over and over and over and the other dwarf just sitting there immovable. The good news was that, for now, Dwim wasn't really attempting to beat him. Perhaps he would just tire him out first?

Sweyn remembered a trick form his younger days. He began to tell a joke. "A drill sergeant had just chewed out one of his cadets, and as he was walking away, he turned to the cadet and said, "I guess when I die you'll come and dance on my grave." The cadet replied, "Not me, Sarge...no sir! I promised myself that when I got out of the Army I'd never stand in another line!"" Sweyn roared with laughter yet his arm was dark purple from the tension. He'd give up soon, he thought, but he wanted to see the results of the joke on Dwim.

OOC @Dwim: Don't give up, I want to lose with a bang :D)

Oak
06/Jan/2013, 11:58 PM
Dat Hammerfist

Into the hall stepped Dis' look alike, only her hair and beard were a shocking carrot red. Her trousers still had a coffee stain above the boot from her misadventure in the Mex kitchens. Strapped to her back was her axe. It too looked in need of washing. There was still some coffee on it. She passed a waiter, he didn't catch his name. "I would like some Orc Bite and some beans". She was feeling brave today. She plopped down next to her sister, Dis and Ran. She debated as to whether she wanted to bring up the debacle with the coffee pot or not. She decided not to. She sat down and waited for the server to bring her some food and drink.

Dis was telling that story about teaching the Eagle to play cards-- only it was out in public. Dat wanted the smack herself in disbelief. Dat doubted the reality of the story. She thought perhaps her sister had caught too much sun while lost out there--or maybe the Goblins had given her their brew and she had seen things. Dat had never seen an Eagle up close and never heard one talk. Somehow she didn't quite believe in talking Eagles. She didn't believe in flying pots either until she saw one. So maybe her sister was telling the truth after all.

Dat finally spoke up. "Could you take me to see this Eagle?"
OOC: (count me in on sacking the burx stores too--sounds fun)

Dwimmerlaik
07/Jan/2013, 04:33 AM
Dwim felt the pressure on now that people were starting to make bets. Ran bet against him, so he was determined to prove her wrong! His ears did perk up though when he heard her ask for a round of drinks for the table. Very good. But he couldn't be distracted! Sweyn was putting up a somewhat good fight. The young dwarf felt himself tested. It was certainly a struggle right now to gain any leverage over the older dwarf, though he did not feel his own arm being pushed very much the other way, so he was feeling pretty good about himself right now. When the server came over and delivered the drinks that Ran had ordered, Dwim quickly snatched one up, not wanting to miss out and also thinking it might give him some extra strength and vigour. Keeping his right arm fighting against Sweyn's, he used his left hand and skulled some of the beverage from the tankard, feeling some of it once again flow down his beard which at this point began to make him feel very dwarvish and tough.

Dwim looked into Sweyn's eyes, which now seemed to be bulging somewhat and facing inwards in a cross-eyed manner. He was trying to gauge where his opponent was at. Was he holding back any strength? The young builder decided he would have to try and end this as quickly as possible, for the Sweyn seemed experienced in quite a few different things, and if he had spent many years working under the mountain, he would surely have a good level of stamina for this sort of thing. Just when Dwim was about to make an attempt to slam his opponent's arm down on the table, he got distracted by the story he started telling. This was a curious kind of tactic, he thought, but he could not help his focus diverting from the arm wrestling to the joke. When Sweyn got to the punch line, Dwim became slightly confused. Sweyn obviously thought it was hilarious, but Dwim did not understand it right away. He had a visible look of confusion on his face as he tried to decipher the joke. "Dancing on his grave... never stand in another line..." Dwim muttered to himself. "Oh!" he said out loud. "He was line-dancing on the sergeant's grave! No. That doesn't seem quite right. Not funny enough. Hmmm.... ohhhh I get it! There was a line up of people wanting to dance on his grave. Now that's pretty funny!"

Dwim laughed at the joke, now fully understanding it. "I'll have to remember that one," he said with a grin as he shifted his attention back to the arm wrestle, putting all his strength and energy into trying to beat Sweyn.

Dis
07/Jan/2013, 10:31 AM
Her sister turned up right as she was relating her tale about the eagle. "Bother," she muttered under her breath. She and Dat had squabbled more than anything. The way she pooh-poohed what she had to report about her travels was annoying too. She was already having trouble with credibility without Carrot Beard showing up and gumming up the works. She spotted the stain on her sibling's trousers. "Couldn't find the latrine?" In response to her query about going to see the eagle she flatly stated, "she lives in the Misty Mountains. I don't plan on going there anytime soon so the only way you will see her is if she turns up around here, which for her sake I hope she does not. Although, it might be interesting: She might find that fiery noggin of yours fascinating and may want to take a closer look."

She turned her attention to the wrestling match. If she had any coin she would have put it on Sweyn -not that he looked like he was apt to beat Dwim: Just 'cause. Since she didn't have anthing to bet she just watched and asked the server to bring her some roast since her stomach seemed to be settling down.

Oak
07/Jan/2013, 10:24 PM
Dat Hammerfist

"You know the stain was from that magic flying coffeepot of yours," Dat shot back. "You should have gotten it to behave better. It dumped coffee all over me". Dat was completely oblivious to the goings on concerning Baldur. "And my hair isn't fiery, it's ginger coloured". Dat didn't want to admit that her hair shone like a beacon in the sun. The shame stemmed from childhood taunts of 'Pumpkin Head' and 'Carrot Beard'. Her head looked like a bright round melon when her hair was tied up in a braid as it was presently. She took to hiding it under a blue hood when she was outdoors. "I don't think that your eagle friend would find ginger hair very interesting. Deer are that color", Dat said with a huff and crossed her arms over her bright beard.

Dat was distracted by the forming fight-or was it a brawl?

RŠnlindŽ Fey
09/Jan/2013, 07:11 PM
With her last silved placed on Sweyn, Ran was completely occupied with the arm wrestling match otherwise this wouldn't have happened. Without even looking at it, she took a big mouthful of her new drink. Mahal's caluses! What was that? Elven's piss?! She gagged. Either the waiter did not understand the meaning of the phrase "your strongest drink" or he considered them all (or maybe just Ran) too drunk and in need of a little sobering. Well this had sobered her up. NOT! She gagged some more. The bubbly elvish sparkling wine seemed to her as if it was expending in her mouth. Finally, she couldn't take it no more and spewed it all over the two arm wrestlers.

Panting, she nodded to Dat. The idiots don't serve Orc's bite. And then quickly returned her attention to the match. Hopefully this little incident won't distract Sweyn too much. Actually, she was hoping it will distract younger Dwim.

(OOC: sorry for the wait, experiments at work were pretty demanding these past two days).

Dwimmerlaik
12/Jan/2013, 07:22 AM
Dwim had been wondering too about what that weird tasting drink had been that he had gulped while battling Sweyn. He had never been in elf-homes, despite all his travelling, so had never sampled their strawberry scented wines or anything like that. He really had no clue what it was, but he hadn't really paid much attention to it because he was in the zone! In the zone trying to overcome his opponent. Sweyn had gone a little bit quiet, which turned out to be a good thing. Because all of a sudden some fine yet explosive mist escaped the mouth of Ran and showered Dwim with sticky stinky stuff. Elven's piss, according to Ran. (OOC and btw "elven's piss" made me laugh out loud)

"Thanks for that, Ran," he said. That had happened to him before, a few times, most recently in the Shire which he had mentioned before. But it had always been beer, which had a much more offensive smell after it had stuck to someone's skin for hours. But Dwim had always secretly enjoyed the smell. Unfortunately, whatever had been in the cup and had been spewed on him did not have a beer smell and instead made him feel a bit sticky and as if he was wearing perfume. Yikes! He'd better finish this arm wrestling match before the perfume started to affect his performance. "Come on, Sweyn, give up! You're not going to beat me!" he exclaimed as he once again put a bit more force against his opponent's arm.

Eafurth
14/Jan/2013, 03:42 AM
Sweyn was struggling and hi arm was aching like they had never ached before. Dwim was tugging and pulling and straining and laughing at his joke and Elvish urine and getting something spit on him. Bets were being cast and Sweyn felt the pressure. But Sweyn knew he wasn't going to win. There were people coming, people going, he thought he hear something about Dis' sister, but that didn't matter now, he had to beat this Dwim. He was very good at his game, he could balance spit on the face and dumb jokes and line dancing and food and all that stuff. Sweyn was getting old! This wasn't his day; and he was close to giving in.

The sticky stuff all over his face, Sweyn was slowly losing control as Dwim urged him to give in, with one last hard strain, Sweyn felt himself lifted up in a flip; the force from Dwim's arm had caused him to fly over the table, lifting his entire body up and landing him on the table on a bowl of baked beans which splattered in the direction of the audience. Sweyn felt so much relief at losing. Of course this guy was going to win. He was glad he hadn't placed a bet, he didn't have any money to his name at the moment. Though his beautiful clothes were covered in the sauce, he roared with laughter as he grabbed a spoon and scooped up some beans, and flicked it at Dwim.

"Nice job, Dwim! Have some beans!" He looked around searchingly. "Hey you, Ran! Are you outta that orc bite?" he slurred. That stuff had surely made this night memorable! "Does anyone else want any beans?" he cried, lifting up another spoonful.

RŠnlindŽ Fey
20/Jan/2013, 09:08 PM
Braaaaawllll!!! (Or a food fight) Free for all! :))

Sweyn lost. LOST! Ran cursed her folly and her rashness at putting the last of her silver on the dandy dwarf. She should've known nothing good came from over-dressed males. Even if they're Elves. Actually, especially if they're elves.Who needs a man who spends more time in the bathroom than the woman of the house? Well unless he's dressing up his beard which is a proper pasttime for a dwarf and is not elvish at all.

What in the name of Balrog's fart was she doing, thinking about beard-dressing and elvish males? It must be the elvish piss affecting her brain and filling it with rainbows and other elvish foolishness. Though Erebor seems to have goten quite weirder as well. What's with the beans raining down on them? She seemed to have forgotten what a weird weather Erebor gets. Not that she minded - her clothes couldn't get in a much worser state than they were already in and every dwarfette knew that beans were good for you on the inside and out. And although she might have looked raggedy now, in her time Ran had worked in a spa for a time. Not that she would admit that to any living soul nowadays.

She was shaken out of her derailed train of thought by Sweyn's question about more Orc's bite. It filled her with anger. Not only had the insufferable peacock lost and nearly cost her her last silver (Ran noted with a relief that no one had accepted the bet and stealthily returned the silver coin to her flat purse), he wanted more of her precious drink. Blood rushed to her face. Do you think I would be drinking this watered down elven piss if we had more of the proper drink? Here, she grabbed another of the flimsy glasses containing the offensive drink and flung it into Sweyn's face. Now you have a bean and piss facial!

Mahal how she missed her mithril rolling pins! She couldn't imagine a brawl without her weapons but she'll havre to do without. This celebration had gone long enough without one; and with elven piss drinking soon they'll all grow pointy ears and prancy feet and join in a merry dance. Not in her lifetime. As she shot up to spill elvish vine into Swayn's face, her chair went flying and one leg was dangling from the seat brokenly. It'll do for her first brawl. She broke it off and advanced towards the two arm wrestlers.

(OOC Dwim: I'm glad cause you're cracking me up all the time! :)) )

KhŰrinStrongart
25/Jan/2013, 06:50 PM
Brawl?

KhŰrin had been silently watching the armwrestling contest. He remembered the one time he foolishly had agreed to wrestle a much stronger opponent and it had almost cost him his shoulder. He was, therefore, not surprised when Sweyn suddenly took a flip and landed on his back on the table. What he hadn't counted with was the spray of beans that peppered him. He looked down at his tunic. It was covered with purplish spots from the bean sauce. That had been his best dress! And now it was ruined.

Ran didn't take too kindly to the sudden gift - but then she looked like she was floating in a pink bubble. Must be all that elvish fizzy drink that did it to her. He for his part had stuck to good old Bootrear. Gave you a good kick inna teeth and another one in the rear a little later on. Ran looked quite belligerent, and KhŰrin was feeling somewhat combative too. He hefted his pewter mug and stumbled next to Ran. He swung the half full receptacle and dosed everybody with a nice spray of Bootrear. But a fight couldn't start without some proper insults beforehand. Ran was already getting into her strides. He grinned and elbowed Ran into the side.

"What do you want with that knitting needle? I've always thought you looked a bit peekish around the ears. That elven piss must be right up your line. You can't even fart decent blue - it's all pink out your rear! A right foofoo dwarf you are!" If he knew anything about Ran then that ought to get her properly fired up. He grinned again.