>> Brewing: Brodder's Diaries Translated <<
Note: The following was originally written by Brodder Foamymugs for use in Everquest's Scars of Velious expansion. These are actual in-game recipes and the book purchased by players containing these recipes is written entirely in gnomish. Aspiring brewers had to learn the gnomish language in order to understand the recipes. The individual who translated these books, "Froni Thunderpaws", could not find Part II. Perhaps only Brodder knows where that volume can be found...
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Brodder's Diary Part I
Many Places I have traveled and many things I have seen, but few things more than treasures and heroic deeds have moved me like a good beverage has. Each culture reveres its heroes, ridicules its enemies, but always the ale flows. Many in Norrath proper say Dwarves are the best brewers as well as the best smiths, one goes with the other. It is hot work indeed, and a crisp ale cuts the dust and replenishes the soul where minor pains and aches would eventually force one to quit. For a Dwarf some say I'm inquisitive as a Gnome, and as snooty as a High Elf when it comes to tasting brews. Perhaps I am, but by Brell it's good to be a cleric as the effects I've sufferred from my curiosity have been painful at times. I shall start in Faydwer proper as it is close to my kind.
STEAMFONT
My close companion Catbik Tinkerton took me on the tour of said lands. Fizzlepop as noted in my other journals has many purposes in brewing, due to the amount of sweetness it contains. I hear that every 1 out of 6 can cause an explosion when bottled due to the intense pressures contained inside. Catbik once even made a Kobold Pup balloon for scouting the area by force feeding this soda to the runt and tying a rope to his legs. In the Pup's tent I found the following:
GRUPPA'S POPPIN ALE
From the scrawling I assumed it was an explosive device, but instead it was a fiery brew. Two bottles of FIZZLEPOP, would be left in the sun to bake and become unstable, two bottles of GNOMISH SPIRITS would steep on an INFECTED RAT LIVER in a bowl in open air. PIXIE DUST would be used on the second mix to clarify it. Mix in a CASK the heated sodas in bottles, and the clarified liverwater mix. The cask would be wrapped in a rope to hold it together and then thrown at a rock or tress so the bottles inside would break. The Cask, if intact, would be left to sit for a week in the sun, then decanted through a cloth cap into bottles. It'd result in four bottles with a pleasant smell, horrid taste, and a huge kick.
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Where is Part II?
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(Part II was never found in-game, but we're hoping it will show up one of these days)
Brodder's Diary Part III
Other drinks I found in Faydwer by talking to merchants, travelers, and the guards are as follows:
FAYDWER STINGER:
Wasp stinger cluster, bottle elven wine, gnomish spirits, served in a bottle, a red drink can be seen as safe. If it is green it's too poisonous to drink and should be discarded.
FAYDWER SHAKER:
Bottle elven wine, bottle gnomish spirits, dwarven ale, bottle mead,large cask. Mix shake in cask and serve in shot glasses. Make enough for a full party of friends. (makes six shots)
UNDERFOOT BROWN:
Four ripe underfoot mushrooms (as grown in farms in Kaladim), bottle short Beer (starter), water, malt, and a CASK. Makes an earthy brew loved by dwarves and halflings.
Port - varied types, take 4 bottles of common wines and distill them into a cask. Known port types are:
GYPSY PORT - four bottles of Gypsy Wine
RED PORT - four bottle of Red Wine
FAYDWER PORT - Two bottles of elven wine, a bottle of red wine, and a bottle of white wine.
RO PORT - Two bottles of Red Wine and two bottles of Elven Wine
Use of an aged cask helps in bringing out the best of vintage. Halflings and elves hold the secrets to making aged oaken casks. Us Dwarves reuse out casks as is only proper, as aging this way makes each generation of ale and beer contribute to the next.
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Brodder's Diary Part IV
The Drakes of Steamfont tend to rest near some of the hotter steam vents in that land. There they shed their old skins, on this grows a lichen of properties unsurpassed in all of Norrath.
Collecting this lichen, some water and a clay pot I joked that this would combine to make a potable alcohol of unusual flavors. It did indeed, and to Catbik's distaste proved much more palatable than his favored gnomish spirits, and nearly as smooth as some of the aged Vodkas I've tasted. To keep the Gnomes happy I named this Gnomish Cleaning Fluid recipe as it resulted in two fluids. The pot itself decanted and filtered into a bottle provided a small potable beverage that I enjoyed, but the remains in the pot proved, once aged, that it'd make a great stripper and cleanser.
A LICHEN COVERED DRAKE SCALE found near steam vents, MEDIUM CLAY JAR, WATER FLASK, and a BOTTLE, result in SUPERIOR LICHEN SPIRITS, and a pot of cleaning paste.
The Minotaurs of Steamfont had few ideas on brewing that I discovered, but it's rumored that a visiting Minotaur Hero had a case of huge bottles of Malt heavy brew, from our tort... in question sessions, with serveral slavers in the area and compounded with my knowledge of brewing, I've determined that this MINOTAUR HERO'S BREW was a heavy malted liquor. I think I've properly reproduced it, though due to the varied nature of waters, hops, and malt arouond the lands its quality can vary, Until I find the proper recipe this one shall bear its name. Take three MALTS of heavy quality, a single YEAST, two measures of WATER, and two SHORT BEERS to start the reaction, into a CASK of darken wood place these and let steep. Decant into bottles of Large size, suited for heroes. cover this bottle in brown parchment or leather to keep the sunlight off of it and provide discretion for others will want one themselves. I've found large bottle produced in Feerrott, by the ogre glass blowers, and in Solusek by the goblins there.
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Brodder's Diary Part V
My experiences with Trolls and Ogres.
Ogre swill and other swamp inspired beverages aren't the only thing to come from these beasts. Some of them have a gift for brewing. They joke, I hope it's a joke, that it came from earing a dwarven brewer at one time or another.
First off is BOOT BEER, strange indeed as it sounds. The foul brew requires a Large Leather Boot, swamp vegetables, swamp mushrooms, malt, a water flask, and milk.
The solids are bundled in a lil cloth bag and stuffed at the bottom of the boot. A troll wears the boot for a few days and then adds the malt, water and milk. It sits on a shelf till remembered, or until it foams enough that someone notices it. This beverage is as disgusting as it sounds, and floored me for over a day and a half, luckily the troll teaching me the secrets was unconscious just a bit longer. I copied the notes and stole away. I left him this gift, written in runes and pictures so he might understand it easier as a fair trade:
SKUNK BREATH ALE
2 skunk glands, gnomish spirits, short beer, malt, yeast, water, cask. From the sudden trade in skunk glands to South Ro from Butcherblock one must assume that this is a hit with the Trolls of Innothule. I hear Innothule's Breath is what they named the beverage. I hear the smell stays on your breath for days after you drink it, a probable source of amusement for the trolls.
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Brodder's Diary VI
Ogres - I've managed to befriend some of the ogres, by playing off the politics that run between the shaman cultures and their shadowknights. Here I tried such things as ARMADILLO SIMMER ALE and TAIL KICKER. As best as I can remember the first is made with Armadillo fat, while the husk is made into a serving bowl, the fat is rendered and mixed with ogre swill, which clears it up considerably, mixed with vinegar, malt and yeast. Surprisingly it was a passable beverage, with a surprising kick. Which leads me to think that an alchemist imprisoned here developed this drink to buy his freedom and to make a living here, while waiting for freedom, bearable.
The TAIL KICKER is made by boiling lizard tails in vinegar, adding malt, yeast and two flasks of water. The results are distilled into clay flasks, trust me one flask of this juice is enough to uncurl a Dwarf's beard and untie his boots.
I asked about the fabled Burning SKULL ALE, and was told that it was made for big ceremonies and required a sacrifice of not a few prisoners. Their skulls were cut open at the top and the brains removed and mixed with rare herbs and vinegar (what's with ogres and vinegar?), and spices and short beer. It was set near a fire and ready when the skulls began to burn with an internal flame. Alchemy or brewing I'm not sure, but I did steal a nicely carved Cyclops skull.
My host wondered why no one made that drink anymore, my last words in Ogguk were "maybe it's that brains are just in short supply on Ogguk" I left in a hurry before they figured that one out.
>>
A Champion of Brell <<
by
Bandolaf the Stout
Come, my children, and sit you still, For I've another
tale to weave.
Let this old man sing one last tune, Before to bed you leave.
"It happened many years ago, When your fathers were but boys.
Your grandfathers were fit young men, And your mothers played with toys.
One young Dwarf in particular, Was outcast by his kin.
He was orphaned at an early age, But none would take him in.
So as he grew, he learned to survive, And took to life alone.
The shadows were his only friend, The road his only home.
He saw himself a petty thief, And lived off what he stole.
Survival was all he ever dreamed, And life his single goal.
But not a thought did he ever give, Even women did he mug.
Still he never bat an eye: He was born and bred a thug.
Until one night, he made for home, Marching 'cross the 'Block,
When a sound like thunder filled the air, And the earth began to rock.
He saw them come from over the hills, Weapons gleaming under moon.
He watched the Ogre warhost march: Kaladim would burn by noon.
A few sleepy guards rose from their posts, But fell quickly against the
horde.
It seemed the Ogres would travel free, Then Dwarven voices roared.
He watched them come, this Dwarven force, Yelling as they ran.
They bore the crest of black and gold: They were all a single clan.
"What a stroke of luck", he thought, As he gazed upon the scene.
"I'll wait until they all lie dead, Then I'll loot the bodies clean."
The Oggok army had twice the numbers, But the Dwarves fought twice as hard,
They fought like nothing he'd ever seen; Better than any guard.
The battle raged well into the night, But then the Dwarven leader fell.
Another simply picked up his blade, And gave a mighty yell:
"SAMRYN UN ALAGH!" he roared, As he charged into the fight.
And the Dwarves pressed even harder, Felling Ogres with their might.
Though the Dwarf heard only words, They echoed deep inside.
And new emotions boiled inside him, Rising like the tide.
For the first time in his troubled life, The Dwarf now tasted fear,
And as realization reared its head, He shed a single tear.
"Look how I have spent my life, Look what I have missed!
Gods, I see how I have wronged, There is more to life than this!"
He saw the Dwarves, as they fought for life, And in an instant then he knew:
For all his sins he would repent; He would begin his life anew.
"Father, hear my cries tonight, Father, heed my call!
I know I've lived a shallow life, But if tonight I fall,
Then let me die a noble man, Let my soul be saved from hell!
For Father, if I die tonight, It's as a Champion of Brell!!"
And so he drew his mighty axe, And leapt into the fray.
He battled hard at his kinsmen's sides, Until the break of day.
When at last the fight was won, They offered him their thanks,
And as tribute to his valiant plight, He was invited to their ranks.
That Dwarf became a common face, In the halls of Kaladim.
At last the lad had found a home, And a family amongst kin. "
Now run off home, my children, And rest your weary heads.
There'll be time for stories later, But now it's time for bed.
How did I hear of such a tale? Well I was there, you see.
I stood and fought, that fateful night: That young Dwarf...
...was me
>> A Bubbly Night in The
Foamymug
<<
by
the Champions of Thurin
Notes: This roleplaying thread was started by members of the guild while waiting for the release of Shadowbane.
Anvyl
the Mad
Keeper of the Secret of Stone
Posts: 35
(5/9/01 12:12 pm)
Reply (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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OoC-
The idea with this post is a tag-along in character story. The idea came about
after Olim and I talked a bit about character development (as in quarks and
characteristics). The thought is that mates can use this story line and others
to play around and develop their in character persona. The idea is to just keep
the story going, try to tie the previous posts when you add yours, don't just
come off the wall with a new slant. The other idea is to have fun with it, try
to trip your mates up and such. First some rules:
1. With a (RP) tag it means the post is a tag-along story post and all posts
should be in character and relating to that story (except the first introductory
post as this is).
2. You can involve the other mates and its hoped you do often. You can even have
them do small, unobtrusive actions. But use EXTREME caution when using someone
else's character. I would suggest strongly to keeping it limited to simply
actions such as: "Olim notices Anvyl fiddling with the fork", this would be
acceptable for me to use, but this would not "Olim grabs the fork and plunges it
into Anyvl's eye". Ye see the subtle difference there? If not then ye best not
use other mate's characters
3. Keep to the storyline. Of course, always bring in twists and new slants, but
try not to derail the story with a completely different post that does not
relate to ones before it. The hope is that everyone's post will end in a few
openings for other mates to continue on with. The story doesn't have to be
linear, there can be many things going on all at once.
4. Have fun. The idea is for mates to develop their persona and let other mates
become use to them. So have fun, trip up yer mates, and let the silliness
begin...
Story Background- Almost forgot that not everyone can view the private board, so
I will set the scene for all. It seems Olim has got poor old Anvyl wrapped up in
another one his his great ideas. They have played a joke on Dikamek and now it
seems that Dikamek has come to have a word with them....
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Anvyl the Mad
Keeper of the Secret of Stone
Posts: 35
(5/9/01 12:34 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Anvyl looks up from his mutterings at the tavern bar just as Olim enters.
Oh, by the hand of Thurin, dis can nae be goods.
Anvyl mumbles to himself as Olim approaches. Olim nears and begins whispering in
his ear. Anvyl's face droops with concern.
Ack, what ye mean Dikamek ist headed heres!? By Thurin's Beard, ye tolds 'em it
was all yers idea didn't ye? What!? Ack! Hide, er no where's dat Brother Brodder.
Maybe he has one of dem sleeping potions. Wes best get a couple mugs ready fer 'em.
Oh by Thurin, did he look mads? Ye know, how he crunches his brow together when
he sees dem skunks lounging about his garden?
Anvyl peers into Olim's eyes, lines of distress etched on his stone face.
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Olim Irontoe
Crusader of Thurin
Posts: 50
(5/9/01 3:53 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Olim scrambles back towards the door , and opens it but a crack to peer outside
to check on Dika's progress towards the tavern .
Phew, 'e's on 'is way still but looks like 'e stopped ta chat wit Catbik . What
we's gonna do ? An , aye dats the look 'e 'ad ta 'em . An why would I tell em
any different ....I never told ye ta .... Snicker ...Do what ye did.
About to burst inta laughter, he closes the door silently , and rushes back to
the bar . Signalling the Barkeep fer an ale silently , while regaining his
composure, he turns back to Anvyl , a concerned look on his face .
I gots it hide under that table der wit the dat Half-giant feller sittin at it .
He'll never look der . I'll tell em ye went off ta ...ta....buy 'im some flowers
ta apologize . 'E'll believe dat .
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 12
(5/9/01 4:11 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Crinkleroot wanders into the tavern, covered in "chiseldust". With a cloth rag
he wipes some of the dust from his eyes. His thick eyebows are now frosted over
with grey and black specs of dust. His wanderings are prompty redirected to the
bar. His hands, covered in a black tar-like mass, grab a mug from his belt.
"Hoi! Keep, fill dis up wit yer coldest stout."
The barkeep winces at the stench of Crinkleroot's smokey order. Weeks of pipe
smoking, drinking, and simmering brewed mouth stench, bellow from his mouth. The
barkeep is quick to get the drink and to get away from Crinkleroot's breath.
After checking the temperature of his drink with his grimey finger, he tosses it
back with quite a bit of gusto.
"Ahhh. Dis will do! To tha furnace wit ye! Har, har!"
Then after ordering and finishing three more, he looks around the tavern. Seeing
Anvyl and Olim together, and plotting, he walks over to them.
"Hoya' mates! Kin Ah buy ye a drink?"
"By Thurin's Thirst! When kin ye NOT buy a dwarf a drink?!" Olim quickly
answered.
"Har, har! Keep! Two more cold 'uns! And kin Ah get ye anythin' else?"
Anvyl looks at Olim, pondering the question.
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Anvyl
the Mad
Keeper of the Secret of Stone
Posts: 36
(5/9/01 5:06 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Eeeep!
Anvyl nearly jumps out his boots at the mention of Dikamek. Quickly, he regains
his composure and looks back at Olim, contemplating Olim's newest grand "idea".
WHAT THE-!? Ye been drinking dat Ogre wash again!? How loony ye think wes is to
go off and hide under dat der table with dat half-giant's smelly feet? No, no
,no...let us think here, what wes need is one of dem sure-fire plans...
Anvyl wrestles his hammer free from his belt, but with Olim's frown decides the
better of it. Quickly he turns scanning for something, anything. Anvyl runs over
to a table where Brodder and Barti are sitting discussing some matter over a
table of ales. Grabbing a chair, Anvyl lifts it over his head, measuring its
wieght. Another frown from Olim, makes him set it back down.
Argh, Look what ye got us into nows, Olim! Tis all yer's fault. What wes gonna
do!
Just as Anvyl's brow is furrowed in deep concentration, Crinkleroot trounces
over to him and his fellow conspirator. Grining, Crinkleroot offers to buy a
round of ale filled mugs....mugs...MUGS, that inspires Anvyl to action.
Quick, Crinkle and Olim help me wit dis table!
Without explaination Anvyl drags Crinkleroot and Olim over to the table where
Brodder and Grint sit unexpectingly. The three of them grab hold of the table
and with Anvyl directing them they push it with a loud screech clear across the
room and up agianst the tavern door. Anvyl eyes the table with satisfaction.
That should hold em's fer a seconds er two's. Nows fer the cunnings part, Olim.
Anvyl grabs three chairs from a nearby table and begins to stack one on top of
each other. Finally he places the last chair high on top, the rickety
construction looking like it will fall at any second. Anvyl then turns, grabs a
mug from the table and hands it to Olim.
Oks, heres the plan. Wes gonna go hide- er hunch down over der behind the bar.
Crinklroot, ye hold on to dis here table as best ye can. Course, Dikameks a
strong feller sos he will eventually muscle his way in. Dats where ye come in,
Olim! Ye sees, ye going to be up way up der waiting fer him.
Anvyl points to the top of the three tier stacked chairs
..and den when he finally wrestles his way in, ye jump down on em, Olim, and
BRAIN 'em in de head with dis 'ere mug!
Anvyl makes a swinging motion his his hand.
Wes will blame it all on the halfy over der.
Anvyl grins a wide smile of pride.
Its foolproof!
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 13
(5/9/01 7:30 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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"What hae Ah got myself into now? Ah sure love a lil' mischief. . .but Dikamek!
In mah short time in des halls, Ah've come ta know a few dwarves. But Ah've only
heard tales o' mighty skunk slayer Dikamek. Do Ah really want ta be on dis side
o' tha door. . .wit a pissed Dikamek on tha other side? Wha if Anvyl and Olim
don't 'klunk' 'em? Thas jus' me an' Dikamek! Smuf! I jus' wanted ta get a cold
drink and take a break from me [latest undertakin']. Ah, I kin take tha
punishment. . . I hope."
"Whadya do ta piss ol' Dikamek off, anyhow?"
Crinkleroot coughs up a big cloud of grey smoke. And nervously chuckles.
"Har, har! (ulp)"
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Olim
Irontoe
Crusader of Thurin
Posts: 51
(5/10/01 12:17 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Olim cringes away from Crinkle after the dust from the cough he expelled settled
.
Cripes brother ...what ye been doin to yerself . Me sniffer has come across some
strong smells afore , but dat breath of yers be enough ta bring tears ta me
eyes.
Trust me ye dunnae wanna know what happened to piss Dika off so . ' Ere 'old
onta me ale fer me while I climbs atop dis contraption . Whatever ye do 'old 'er
still. I 'ope fer yer sake and mine dis werks Anvyl .
Olim hops to the table top with the leaning tower of chairs adorning its
surface. Sending a quick wink to Anvyl , a look of udder concentration crosses
his face , and he begins the climb to the top of the nearly 20ft high ,
temporary structure.
Anyone familiar with the genneral premise of Dwarven arcitecture , knows that
"The stouter the better " holds true to even the smallest detail , thankfully
this ideal carries over into the design of dwarven furniture as well . This
being the case , the tower of chairs perched atop the massive table , isn't as
precarriously balanced as one might be led to believe.
Ye got hold of that bottom chair crinkle ? Olim asks as he mounts the third
chair in a string of four . Stealing a look back he sees Crinkle nod in
recognition of the question . Aye , good den , if I do take wing off dis pile of
junk , fer the love of Thurin please try ta catch me .
Standing atop the third chair , and getting hand holds on the fourth ,
confidence in the plan Anvyl has concocted seemed to be growing amungst the two
scheemers , and the poor sole Anvyl had drug into the goings on, without his
consent . Finally Olim sat atop his perch high above the tavern floor .
I's pretty blinkin high up 'ere ye fellers. Ders a pretty good chance I ain't
gonna just ring Dika's bell frem dis 'eight.
Bah. Anvyl exclaimed a look of disgust upon his face . Dat dwarf's 'ead is 'arder
den mine . Yer up der , now stick ta the plan .
Olim shrugs at Anvyl , agreeing with his defense . He'd seen Dika break axes ,
that hadn't met with his liking , over the same mellon he was questioning the
strength of . Needing to retrieve his Ale , and the stein he was to use for a
thumpin stick , he shifts into a kneeling position in the chair .
Allright Crinkle pass me dat Ale , and the udder stein der .
Crinkle climbs on top of the "base " of the tower and passes Olim the two mugs .
While reaching down , Olim's favourite Minotaur horned ,helm slides down his
face just enough to cover his eyes . Muttering curses , and unable to see enough
to grasp the objects that Crinkle , standing on his tiptoes , is trying to pass
, he forgets where he is just for a second , a second too long . Olim stands up
to re-adjust his helm , whacking his head on one of the thick beams in place to
suspend the taverns roof. Cripes ! He exclaims , followed by a hiccup , and a
chuckle . The chuckle endes with his eyes rolling back in his head . Olim's head
slumps forward , and with that , the nose dive to the tavern floor begins .
Three hundred pounds of metal clad dwarf doesn't take a very long time to fall
twenty feet , Anvyl , and Crinkle having no time to react , can only stare as
they watch Olim plunge horns first into the floor . As the horns met the Tavern
floor , their sharp tips pierce the ancient timbers that make up the its surface
, sinking in close to 4 inches. That four inches is apparently enough to hold
the mass of dwarf upright , for there he was in all his glory for everyone to
see,upsidedown,standing straight as a board in his helm ,snoring away merrily.
OoC: Check the newest ooc post by me , in Khazad Gathol to see why Dika might be
a little perturbed with Anvyl .
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Anvyl
the Mad
Keeper of the Secret of Stone
Posts: 37
(5/10/01 12:47 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Anvyl watches in horror at the 300 pounds of dwarf flesh, metal, and beard
headed his way. For a split second he considers attempting to catch his old
friend and outstretches his arms in a wide arc.
WES GOTCHA OLIM!
Suddenly as the mass of dazed dwarf nears terminal velocity, Anvyl reconsiders
his plans and leaps out the way. He tumbles across the floor crashing into the
legs of the tavern table where Lord Warfield, Kurzac, and Grint sit discussing
temple architecture. The table topples over, three half filled mugs of ale tip
and their contents race down the leaning tables surface. Anvyl, disorientated
and sprawled on the floor beneath the table, raises his head up slightly.
Filling the wetness of the ale pouring down upon his head he lets out a loud
shriek
Errrkkkk! Wes bleeding, wes bleeding! Great Thurin, wes coming to see's ye!
Anvyl's cries of pain are cut short as he catches the disapproving frown from
Lord Warfield. Wiping the running ale from his brow he glances over at Olim's
stiff frame jutting up from the tavern floor like a half hammered nail. Glancing
back at Lord Warfield, Anvyl points meekly at the comatose Olim and whispers:
It was his idea, Lord. All his idea, just as Crinkle.
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 14
(5/10/01 1:48 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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"Wha? Oh, sure nuff Warfield, tha whole "table tower" was Olim's idear. Or maybe
it was Anvyl's. . .Ah think. . . Gar!. . .but, Ah donnae think tha fallin' part
was in Olim's plan. An' tha spillin' booze wasn't part o' my plan! Bah, and
Ah've heard our ale supply is runnin' short!"
Crinkleroot begins to sop up some of the ale with a cloth rag. Then he uses the
wet rag to clean his dark hands. He looks over at the still unconscious Olim.
"Ah'll tell ye tha problem, twas dat silly helm! Ye wonder why dem minos such
doltin' creatures. . .thars yer answer, har har! Thurin made my skull extra
thick, sure donnae need any helmet o' any sorts!"
Olim comes to for a second and mutters something about having little room for
brains with such a thick skull, and then blacks out again. Crinkleroot begins to
reorganize the table pile. While doing so, he discovers some carvings on the
underside of the overturned table.
"Mates, get a gander at dis. Some sort o' writin' under dis table. . ."
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Dikamek Skunkbane
Warrior of the All-Father - Shadowbane ...a world without skunks...
Posts: 7
(5/10/01 7:04 am)
Reply
Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Dikamek wispers quietly with Catbik not to far from the Tavern. After a few
moments of this Catbik reaches carefully into a bag and gently pulls out a box.
This is no ordinary box. It is reinforced with mithril bands and is secured with
a rather large lock. Catbik blows some dust off of it indicating its age and
that it has been sitting around in storage for an awefully long time.
Catbik wispers something that looks like a question. Dikamek nods and smiles
wickedly. The kind of smile normally reserved for skunk hunting. Dikamek reaches
into his tunic and pulls out a very ornate key.
Catbik's eyes widened in surprise. "You found the key?!?!?" he suddenly squeaks
out much louder than before. "But but that key was rumoured to have been jammed
and stuck under the fingernail of that vile wurm Skyvenom atop that tall
mountain near the giant city!"
Dikemek turned the key slowly in his hand, "aye, it was right where you said it
might be. I fought my way through countless giants to reach the cave. I busted
in that wurms door and demanded loudly for the wurm to give up the key or die."
Catbik stood there completely enthralled by the extraordinary tale, "So you
ended up having to kill the wurm?"
"Nay," Dikamek said, "that there wurm was happy for me to pull the key out from
that strange spot. It has been irritating the bugger for nearly a millenia but
he couldn't pull it out by himself."
"Ah," Catbik though he had understood, "so the wurm is still living."
"Almost killed him," Dikamek said, "seems that bugger had a problem with me
helping myself to a bunch of his treasure afterwards."
Catbik looked puzzed but Dikamek continued, "I left that bugger alive because
when he wakes up he is gonna be screaming for blood and the closest blood to him
is gonna be that giants city."
Catbik chuckled at the though of the giants getting a visitor soon.
Dikamek pulled a rather large and bulky bag off his shoulders and dropped it at
Catbik's feet. The sound of many coins and other large precious items rolling
around in the bag came forth. "Take whatever ye need from this bag to compensate
yerself for that box, " Dikamek suddenly getting back to being serious, "lets
get back to opening this box for if what you say is in here then that bugger
Anvyl will get whats coming to him..."
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Brodder FoamyMugs
Dwarven Chemist and Pub Owner
Posts: 17
(5/10/01 2:06 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Brodder's eyes widen as he sees a dwarf plunge headfirst into the hard planking
of his Pub and just quiver there like a lawn dart. He whispers something to the
other dwarves sitting in his sandbagged corner table. Laughter erupts. Slowly
the Obsidian and Gold skin red bearded dwarf ambles over to examine poor Olim.
Still Chuckling he produces a large orc bristle paint brush and a jar of ochre
paint. He walks about Olim in ever larger circles singing a song to himself and
hoping and skipping every now and then. Soon three circles surround OLIM.
Brodder then paints a bullseye so Olim is Just off Center from it.
Hang the sign now Halamur.
Halamur who's been busy in the corner appears briefly to hang a large poster
that reads HELMET DART COMPETITION! ONE TRY, ten ale minimum. Entry fee one good
quality gem. Entree must dive at target from atop 3 stacked chairs or tables
unassisted. Management not responsible for damage to armor or yer person. See
Gimzak for side bets. Winner gets all the ale he can drink upside down for the
night! Halamur nods at his sign and at Brodder and heads back to the corner
fortress.
Heh when the other's arrive this should make for some interesting entertainment.
Anvil Frantically looking for a hiding place suddenly sees the sign. He blinks
twice in confusion and his face scrunches up in thought. He looks at Olim and
suddenly sees the target on the floor. He then breaks out a tablet and soon is
calculating how many beers he might be able to consume if he won, Dikamek's
return all but forgotten....for now.
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Warfield Goblincleaver
Protector of the Forge
Posts: 108
(5/10/01 4:49 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Warfield, drippin' with ale and startled by Anvyl's shouts of panic, rises from
his seat quickly.
By the Beard of Thurin!! What are ye lads doin'? I don't know what's more
dangerous; battlin' a den o' Dragons or drinkin' at this here tavern!
Warfield noticing the destruction in the pub, glances around, looking for Olim.
He finds the Dwarf upside down and unconscious. Turnin' his head sideways trying
to look Olim in the eyes, Warfield addresses him.
Aha! I figured ye'd be behind all this. Now cut...
Warfield pauses for a moment pondering the situation and notices the deep cracks
in the wooden floor. The force with which Olim's horned helm struck the ground
was great indeed, he thought.
Hrm, ye give me an idea, lad.
Warfield continues talking to the unconscious Dwarf, gesturing the actions of a
catapult or tremendous siege engine.
Anyways, clean this mess up before ye leave. Warfield mutters to himself, "I may
hafta consider makin' this pub Olim-Proof(TM) soon."
As Warfield begins to walk off, a powerful stench stops him dead in his tracks.
It is Crinkleroot, grinning ear to ear, his beard covered in some odd type of
wood shavings.
Ahhh, Chiselsmoke, me good lad! How goes progress on me new smokin' pipe..?
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 16
(5/11/01 1:02 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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"Gar! Ne'remind, 'tis nuthin' more than a dirty limerick. 'Some men thirst fer
righteousness, Some men thirst fer beer. But men wids tha greatest thrist, pass
out and end up 'ere.'"
Crinkleroot chuckles and coughs up some more dust and smoke. He glances over at
Olim, still upside-down, and notices the deep cracks in the wooden floor.
"Hmmmmm, Ah wonder what's underneath tha tavern's floor. I wonder if Ah could
create some sort o' tunnel from mah barracks ta tha tavern. Or mayhaps der are
already passages under dis place. Ah know der are passages, dat Ah've yet ta
explore. Bah, Ah must stay on task. Ah'll remind meself ta talk it up wit tha
Keep later. But now Ah must be returnin' ta me barracks ta finish up."
"Ahhh, Chiselsmoke, me good lad! How goes progress on me new smokin' pipe..?"
Warfield had walked up to Crinkleroot while he was examining the crack in the
floor. And was standing offish behind him.
"Lord, Ah've checked me supplies an' Ah'm all out o' tha wood Ah wanted ta use
fer yer pipe. Ah've located a glen o' Hornbeams and Slippery Red Elms, 'tis
quite a trek an' will surely be guarded. Now, Ah'm sure ye'd enjoy tha pipe
more, if ye got ta spill some Elf blood wit me. smiles What Ah'm tryin' ta say
is. . . ya say tha words an' Ah'll pack some supplies an' we'd be off. 'til then
Ah'll get back ta me task at hand. 'Tis a surprise, but Ah'll tell ya."
Crinkleroot whispers in Warfield's ear. Warfields winces, his eyes tearing up,
with every utterance from Chiselsmoke's mouth. Warfield nods in approval.
"Ahhhh, that be a mighty fine idea Chiselsmoke."
"Ah, hope ta finish tha model soon. Clean it up and bring it ta ye fer yer
approval."
"Aye, ye might want ta clean yerself up before then too, Crinkle."
Crinkleroot chuckles up a dust cloud and nods. He begins to turn towards the
tavern door.
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Groegner the Elfbane
Faithful Patron
Posts: 17
(5/11/01 3:01 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Waking from a wee nap after a few too many of Brodder's XX Extra stouts Groegner
lifts is hed from de table and looks around in amusement and bewildrment.
Wut in ells been goins on ere? Is see Olims den went and had to much ub
Brodder's special mixes but what be all da commotion fer? Why do der be a table
blockn de door?
Wondrn ober to the bar and pours anuddr XX extra stout he wandrs ober to Anvil
wit a questioning look in is eye.
Musing aloud with his trusty Mithril laced elf leg bone he starts trying to pry
up the floorboards of de tavern ta see what's under dem from the cracks made by
Olim's head first plunge to de target below.
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Brodder FoamyMugs
Dwarven Chemist and Pub Owner
Posts: 18
(5/11/01 9:19 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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*Brodder appends Halamur's sign with the following notice*
Any Dwarf who lands within 3 feet of the center mark may be considered for the
Dwarven Olympic Catapult Team. See Lord Warfield about applying, and remember,
one shiny gem, you get to try out on the target yourself, and have a chance of
winning a full nights of upside down drinking.
*to the dwarves clustered about the cracks in the floot he whispers in soto
voice*
Ahhh Boyos, I wouldn't be a prying up me floor, not only is it two dwarves thick
in timber treated in me potions.( it should heal itself soon anyways) ME storage
chambers are below too. So lest you be interested in me alchemy or cleaning up
me lab, I'd a suggest ye, ahh bah do what ye will, but remember. If Dikamek, or
Gimzak should trip or fall below, yer buying me a new lab and rebuilding me pub.
I've got the specs right here....
*Brodder holds up some beer sodden parchments that look like they'd be an armful
for any human, with ease.*
Water proof and stain proof too. I think fire proof too. Made dah skins fer
scribing from fallen drake scales soaked in vegimite concentrate and then beaten
thin in me magic forge, yup yup.
*Brodder heads back to his sandbagged corner table avoiding the emanations from
Crinkleroot with deft grace fo someone used to dodging acid clouds and explosive
mistakes in confined spaces*
Ohh and that reminds me, HOI ANVYL I got's Yer BOINGEE BOOTS READY. Did the
final enchantments last week, I just remembered. Just donnae wear em in a short
tunnel, wif out a padded helm or better.
*Brodder grins as he sees the gems scattered on the signup sheet and Halamur's
grin at the glint. Soon a line forms of dwarves arriving of shift and see the
sign up sheet and instructions. Many begin sharpening their horned helms and
discussing aerodynamic fluctuations over density and gravity fluxes caused by
beer bubbles in the system. Both barkeep sigh and begin pouring mug after mug of
stout ale and setting up shots of Deep Mushroom Mash Whiskey for the not so
brave horned divers. Olim meanwhile is snoring contendly upside down and rigid
as a board.*
Ahh someone might want to slide a shot o whiskey under his schnozz before
Dikamek arrives or before the floor heals itself and he's stuck there
permanently....but I'm just a mixoligist and tinkerer, what do I know.
*Halamur, Brodder and a few hidden guests in the corner fortress begin to play
dice and runes, with the entry fees. Occasional puffs of blue smoke slide out
from between the bags, where the blue smoke touches a dwarf, fleas, lice and
other critters fall off dead, and desicated, but for some reason the blue smoke
never reaches Crinkleroot. *
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 18
(5/14/01 10:06 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Reminded again of his current project, Crinkleroot begins to move some of the
chairs and tables away from the door. He opens the door just enough to slide
through. Once out of the tavern, he starts off down the main hall to his
barracks. Out of the corner of his eye he sees two dwarves, one which he assumes
is Dikamek. Not wanting to reveal anything or be noticed, Crinkleroot puts his
head down and quickens his pace. Alas the two dwarves notice Crinkleroot, and
comment about his stench. Soon enough Crinkleroot is back in his barracks,
nursing a stash of warm ale, puffing on his pipe, and carving away on his
current project.
"Ahhhh. Ah'm sure tha lads will love dis. . ."
He begins to whistle a tune, which amazingly he whistles completely out of tune.
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Barti Goldenbeard
Keeper of the Forge
Posts: 26
(5/15/01 10:28 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Barti opens the door and notices the furniture stacked in front of it.
"Dis 'ere door opens out!" he shouts across da bar, as he climbs o'er da mess.
"An why is dere a dwarf stuck tae da floor?" he asked and looked around the
room, noticing tha sign "Oh! dis must have been Anvyl's idear!"
barti snaps his fingers.
"Damn an i be fresh out o' shiney gems." he chuckles. "What be da next event?
Tha javalin catch?"
"Not that dis is nay funny, but ye sposed tae have water under tha divin board"
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Kheldain
Unregistered User
(5/18/01 3:23 am)
Reply re: a bubbly night in the Foamymug
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A fair-skinned dwarf saunters towards the tavern, seeking cold brew and fine
company after a day spent in the Libarium. He smells, first, rather than sees
his friend Crinkleroot, as he turns a corner.
"Hoi Crinkleroot!" he calls out as he approaches. "Here." he says, reaching into
a large leather satchel at his side, pulling out a sheaf of skins. "Found some
references to them ancient smokin pipes ye was askin about." he says, handin
them over to the grubby dwarf. His friend mumbles something in a cough of smoke,
and waving the skins, continues on his way. The lore apprentice strokes his
silver beard-"he had a relieved look about his face-tha ken only mean one
thing..." he thought, turning to face his final destination. Shrugging mentally,
he continued on.
As he grabbed the stout handle- he is almost brained by it as he meets Warfield
commin out. "Ah Kheldain-mind yer step lad.." he says passing him. Kheldain
steps into the tavern and takes in the scene; Olim stuck in the floor by his
helm, wee puffs of smoke rising from Brodder's usual table, and the sign above
Olim. Heh, indeed quite a saga in the making..seeing Olim like that he wondered
silently if this was what Dikamek had come to ask him about the other day..
"Ahh Kheldain-jess tha lad ah wants ta see!" boomed Anvyl, placing a mighty paw
upon the dwarf's shoulder. "Come takes a gander at this.." he said, showing him
the underside of one of the tavern's tables. "Think Crinkle was tryin ta tells
me about it afore he left." Kheldain knelt to examine the strange writings
carved into the wood. Taking a quill and skin in hand, he bagan to make
notations.. his amethyst eyes widened. "Er whut's up lad?..ye onta sumptin?"
asked Anvyl. "Hmm..ahm nae sure Brother Anvyl.. but- wait, ah has tae ask
Brodder sumptin- whar this piece of wood come from.-this is a verra ancient
hand."he said, running an alabaster hand along the carved surface. "Not yer
ordinary grafitti-tis done fer a purpose...But ifn ahm nae mistaken, it may tell
us whar a Runstone b hidden!" Rummaging in his satchel he pulls out a leather
journal, it's edges worn, and a flaming bombage on the cover-"Ach- ah almost
fergot-ah finally found that treatise of Thunderforge on the treatments of
various resins on the catalysing of thermic acids that Brodder wanted- hadda
sneak it out fer him.." He said, walking over and disappearing behind the
sandbagged table....
(note*Brother Kheldain is a young healer with interests in bomb-making,
weaponsmithing and lore..but he's not quite sure what he wants to do yet in this
world-tis me freyjja)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Olim Irontoe
Crusader of Thurin
Posts: 66
(5/18/01 12:26 pm)
Reply Re: re: a bubbly night in the Foamymug
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The breeze from the door opening caused the upside down sleeping dwarf to stir
somewhat . The door closed , the wind abated , and Olim returned to his heavy
slumber. Once again the door opened , and a slight breeze hits the dwarf , he
issues a few mumbled words , and suddenly his eyelids fly open .
AAAAGHHHHHGGHHHHH ! He screamed , viewing the tavern upside down , and not quite
being able to put the last few moments ,of what happened before he wound up
where he is now, together , upset him greaty . DIKA'S GONE AN CUT ME OFF AT THE
NECK AND STUCK ME 'EAD UP ME ARSE! PRAISE THURIN CALL THE CLERICS, CALL THE
CLERICS I SAYS AFORE ME BRAIN RUNS OUTTA LIFE BLOOD , AN I DIES !
AAAARRRRRGGGGAAAAAAA. More than a few eyes turn towards the noise , and many a
dwarf will never forget the site of poor Olim , upside down , screaming for a
healer , pumping legs , and arms as if to run , but going nowhere.
Anvyl , still deep in contemplation , and conversation about the runes carved in
the bottom of the upturned table , about jumps out of his boots , as Olim
regains conscienceness , and the screaming suddenly begins . He begins to cast a
healing spell , in reaction to the cries , then , as he realizes who it is
raising all the comotion , he stops mid way through the spell , chuckles , and
steps over to where the upside down dwarf is still screaming for a cleric .
Reaching down , he undoes the clasp of the chinstrap holding Olim upside down ,
and in his helm . Rather unceremoniously Olim , no longer held upright by the
stout leather strap , falls to the floor with a solid thump, and the cries of
distress suddenly end .
Seemingly dazed by the facefirst fall to the floor , Olim sits up slowly , and
examins himself. Finding everything where it should be , and finally being able
to remember the events leading to him being stuck in the floor ,a bright red
glow comes over his face .
Well den , dats a mite embarrassin wouldn't ye say ? Bah nuttin ye fellers ain't
seen afore I's sure . Picking himself off the floor he notices the sign , still
tied to his boot , and the rings painted on the floor. Reading it slowly , the
red tint dissapates , and a huge smile parts his lips. Whats dis den ! Who all
else has gone , and am I winnin still? Wheres Dika at now ? BARKEEP , SET ME UP
TWO MORE ALE , AN POUR UP A SHOT ER TREE OF SOME OF YER BEST BELLY BUSTER.
Anvyl waves the calculations hes made at Olim , examining them , the smile gets
even bigger . Olim walks over and gives a mighty tug on his helm , still wedged
in the floor . One pull, two , and still the helm wont budge from the cracks the
collission produced. Tell the keep to keep dem ales comin , next time I's gonna
walk away frem dat. I has to go find Crinkle , and borrow a saw . Me helm is in
der good . He exclaimed to Anvyl on the way to the bar to retrieve his ales .
Grabbbing the foaming belly busters , one in each hand , he downs them both ,
and slides the third towards Anvyl. Ale in hand he moves towards the door , on
his way to find the tools necesary to retrieve his prized helm . I'll be right
back , don't let anyone jump till I gets back and moves me helm , I don't wanna
miss nuttin.
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 24
(5/20/01 7:30 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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"Hmmmm, des references Kheldain foun' fer me donnae speak o' "vruden" pipes, but
o' sumthin' quite different. Ah' mus' remember ta ask Kheldain exactly whar des
references were discovered. Dey appear ta hae been scribed by a "Zaki", one
crazy dwarf stranded up in sum far off mountains. Des pipes are made o' rare "Wutroth",
mountain oaks dat grow supposedly o' both wood an' stone. Ah've heard dat des
trees donnae grow in groves, as one dominant tree's roots starve an' choke all
others dat grow around it. An' dat dey be guarded by Grondulkar, or Stone
Elementals, who are quite fierce. But des pipes drawn here are quite amazin'. As
soon as Ah' finish a few other tings, Ah'll hae ta look inta dis more."
"Ahhhh, back ta work! Almost done. . ."
Crinkleroot first downs a couple warm ales, wiping the excess into his thick
beard. Then he fishes through his tools and instruments, finally pulling out a
strange contraption. This tinkered head-gear has all sorts of wires and gadgets
branching off of it. Crinkleroot pulls a
magnifyiong monocle in front of his left eye. Next he reaches for his favorite "Dwarven-clay
work" pipe (flat on the bottom, resting on his work bench, it is still warm). He
then picks up some small carving tool and begins his work. There are tiny sounds
of metal hitting metal, warm ale being guzzled, and the occasional smokey cough.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Olim
Irontoe
Crusader of Thurin
Posts: 75
(5/21/01 12:52 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Finishing the first of the two ales in hand , Olim sets the empty stein down by
the corner of the door frame , and makes a mental note to grab it on the return
trip to his favorite drinkin' establishment in all the land.
Still a little woozy , and quite drunk , he forgets that he's been trying to
avoid Dikamek . Luckily for him , without his ever-present Minotaur helm ,
there's not a dwarf in the grand halls of Zirakdum , that could place a name to
his face . Nodding to Dika , and the small group surrounding him , he makes his
way past them on his search for Crinkleroot.
Nearing the barracks , he catches a whiff of the destinct odor Crinkle seems to
be carrying about himself the last few weeks . By Thurin's bleedin stump , dat
lad just plain ole' stinks . Blaargh! He said to noone in particular , as he was
alone in the hallway , and nearing a ninety degree turn in its path.
Wobbleing along he catches his foot on a slightly raised , cobblestone that make
up the floor of the hallways of Zirakdum. Needless to say the slight trip was
enough , in his current state ,to send him headlong into the wall in front of
him . Arms flailing in an attempt to regain his balance and ale from the stein
in his hand flying all over, he in advertitly knocks a sconce hung at an odd
angle on the wall. Coming to rest in an awkward pile against the wall , the
noise his armour clad body made was enough to drown out the sound of rock
scraping rock as the secret door behind him opened up with a long groan . The
creeking , and goings on however were quite audible , and it reverberated off
the walls surounding him .The rush of stale air from behind the long consealed
door was enough to blow the leather skirt connected to the back of his platemail
chestplate, midway up his back . Thurin's blessid hammer. Pardon me ! He
exclaimed , again though noone was near to him , the noise his behind had just
made , he felt for sure could have been heard in the church far off to his left
, and any self respectin dwarf excuses himself after an accident of the windy
nature such as that he thought to himself . He chuckled , but then realizing
what exactly remained in his hand he attempted to save the little ale not
allready on the floor. THURIN'S FOOT ! He cursed trying to save the last bit of
drink left in his stein. Standing up , he straightened the sconce , and went
merrily on his way , following Crinkleroot's stink. Never noticing the large
crack that had opened in the wall behind him.
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 28
(5/23/01 4:56 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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"Praise tha Mighty Chiseler Himself! ‘Tis finished!!"
Crinkleroot places his "creation" into a container of some sorts and lays it on
his work bench. He then produces a large glass flask from a high cabinet.
Crinkleroot blows
off the dust on bottle and begins to open it.
"Hard, Spiced Root Liquor, me favorite! Ages quite well, so Ah’ saved it fer
such an occasion. Dern cork!"
Crinkleroot contiues to struggle with the flask, as Olim approaches his
barrack’s door. Olim knocks on the large wooden door. Crinkleroot walks over to
the door,
unlocks it, and begins to open the door. Smoke billows out of the room. Olim
begins to hack and cough as he enters.
"(cough), (cough) Crinkle?!"
With his eyes tearing up, Olim squints to become accustomed to the smokey
environment. Moving forward, somewhat blindly, his feet get tangled in one of
Crinkleroot’s tinkered contraptions. Stumbling forward, Olim collides with
Crinkleroot and the flask of liquor. The cork pops out, hitting Crinkleroot in
the eye, as the flask flies into the air. Amazingly Olim catches it, without
spilling a drop. The two dwarfs look at each other puzzled for a moment.
Crinkleroot, still squinting one eye, flashed a hearty golden smile. Olim looks
down at the bottle, smells its contents, and grins.
"Whut ‘ave we ‘ere?! Lucky, I caught dis. ‘Tis a sign I should join ye in drink,
or two."
"Har, Har Olim! Dat was a magnificent enterance! Ah’ was jus’ about ta kick back
a swig fer finishin’ me project. Thurin sure hae blessed ye wit quite a gift o’
stumblin’
inta free drinks. Pull down one o’ dem steins on tha wall."
Olim pulls down a richly jeweled stein from a rack on the wall. The two dwarfs
fill up their steins and proceed to drink.
"Ye look quite odd, thar Olim, witout yer helm. Still stuck in tha floor
boards?"
"Aye. Dat’s why I came ta see ye. I figured ye might hae a saw or sumthin’."
"Ah’ hae jus’ tha ting! . . ."
Crinkleroot reaches down and opens a floor-hold, fishes around, and pulls out a.
. .
"A tinkered, magnetic circular saw. Diamond tipped blade, which Ah’ helped make.
Cut throo sum pretty hard wood.
He hands it ot Olim. And proceeds to equip it to Olim.
"See ‘ow its attached onta dis bracer, which is attached ta dis glove. Place tha
bracer on yer forearm like dis. An’ slip yer hand inta tha glove here. When ye
wanta start it. . .move des two sets o’ magnets inta place."
Olim stands and admires the fine "tool" in his hands. He proceeds to slide the
magnets down and start the saw, as Crinkleroot admonishes him with some final
detail.
"An’ hol’ it at an angle when ye use it. . . ye can turn it off by slidin’ tha
magnets down. . .and Olim. . .BE CAREFUL!!"
Olim leaves the room with the saw still running. Crinkleroot finishes the bottle
of Spiced Root, grabs the container on his bench, and walks ot the door.
"Ah’ hope Warfield finds this pleasing. Ah’ll find out soon enuff."
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Olim Irontoe
Crusader of Thurin
Posts: 91
(5/30/01 3:35 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Closing the door to Crinkle's room behind him , Olim starts to make his way back
towards the tavern to retrieve his helm. He admired the fine creation Crinkle
had lent to him , "Best ta turn dis ting off me tinks ." he thought to himself
as he wandered down a different hallway from the one he had used to get here.
Lights were blinking in certain raised portions of the apparatus , and
occassionally it emitted a small puff of blue smoke from some indiscernable
oraffice hidden behind the strange angles , and magnets of the contraption. He
pulled the magnets up towards his bicep , and the saw ground to a halt ,
issueing a slight groan , as the blade ceased its turning .
His journey continued throught the maze of halls inside Zirakdum , every once in
a while he'd nudge a wall on one side of the hall or another , and each time he
did , a small , distinct , hiccup could be heard . Many a dwarf he passes
recognized him , on his walk , but none thought it wise to break the
concentration of the highly accident prone dwarf , so when Olim began to cross
into their path , they'd simply walk around him .
How in Thurin's bleedin fist does dis ting run? He said aloud , still studying
the gizmos and gadgets making up the workings of the saw . Finally arriving at
the door to the tavern , he issued a sigh . Unable to decipher how the machine
worked , he gave up , and thought it best that " such tings are left ta Crinkle
and Brodder anyhows ."
Reaching down to retrive the stein he had left adjacent to the door , which he
had miraculously remembered , the magnets accidently cought on one of the ridges
of the mitheril brestplace he wore . Unfortunately the downward motion of his
arm didnt stop , as fast as he wanted it to. The Magnets were pulled down into
the run position , and the saw sprang into life .
The throttle wideopen , the sheer torque of the magnetic motor swung Olim's arm
in an arc to the right where it met with the door frame . The blade biting deep
, it begans cutting throught the door casing , before Olim could even straighten
himself up to see what was happeneing . Feet of think lumber where cut throught
in fractions of a second . Olim strapped to the saw , and at the mercy of its
doing was actually pulled off his feet , as the blade turned centuries old wood
to dust.
Finally he had come to a halt , he had had his eyes closed for this whole
magnificent trip . The screeching of the saw stopped , and he realized he was in
the air being supported by one arm .The trip ended when Olim was 3 feet , and a
few inches off the ground , and when the saw had met a stout Ironwood beam that
held the roof of the tavern in place , and stalled.
Cursing his luck , and clumbsiness , he pulled himself up with the arm the saw
was attached to , and reached over to release its bindings with the other hand.
Olim's foot brushed the door lightly during this manuveur , and to his shock and
horror ,the door , casing , hinges , and all , fell in and came to rest on the
tavern floor in front of the bar.
Not one head in the tavern didn't look towards the massive door as it fell to
the floor . The light that flooded into the tavern through the gaping hole where
the door used to hang , caused many a curse to be uttered by many a dwarf .
Their eyes adjusting , all where met with the sight of Olim hanging by one arm ,
three feet off the ground , kicking , and struggling with the stout leather
straps secureing the saw to his arm still.
" What ye all lookin at ? Can I get some 'elp 'ere
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Groegner the Elfbane
Faithful Patron
Posts: 28
(5/31/01 2:25 am)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Gittin up from de wide crack in de floor, muttering to himself Groegner wanders
ober to de bar fer anudder round of extra stout XXX.
What do did here crusty stuff be? Grabs a handful and proceeds to eat the stuff
tinking it might be good.
While snacking on his new find de door to da tavern falls in burying Groegner in
a pile of timber an beams.
By Thurins beard whut be da meanin of dis Olim? It gittin to be wher a dwarf
might be gittin hisself hurt around did here tavern.
While extracting hisself and attempting ta help Olim to da floor from de mess he
jes made, Groegner remembers some dwarf rune inscribed papers he taked frum an
pointy eared inkie he recently introduced his axe ta. Diggin in his pouch he
pulls out da papers and stumbles ober ta giv dem ta Anvyl.
Hey Anvyl sees what ye kin make ob des here papers?
Groegner den wanders back to the rubble pile by da bar ta git anudder round
while handing one ta Olim.
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Olim Irontoe
Crusader of Thurin
Posts: 93
(5/31/01 4:35 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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How in the NAME OF THURIN ARE YE EXPECTIN ME TA HOLD DAT ALE! Olim explained
loudly to Groegner. Me one 'and be stuck in dis saw contraption still , and I
needs me udder ta undo the bleedin buckles . 'Old dat ale fer me doe ....I'll
gladly dispatch it after I gets down . He chuckles , sending a wink in
Groegner's direction.
Still hanging from one arm in the middle of the doorway , and swinging back and
forth , Olim pulls himself up with the stuck arm so he can see the buckles he's
still attempting to undo . After a moment or two , he sighs deeply , and lets
the strength drain from his arm , sending him dopping a few inches closer to the
floor .
Some dwarf drag arse over 'ere , and get down on all fours , so's I's can stand
on yer back . Hard enough pullin me fat arse up 'igh enough ta see the bleedin
buckles at eyes level , let alone undo em .
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Crinkleroot
Pious Pipemaker of Thurin
Posts: 37
(6/1/01 4:50 pm)
Reply Re: (RP) A bubbly night in the Foamymug
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Walks down the halls searching for Warfield, finding him on the way to the
tavern. Warfield is standing by some of the new guard recruits, reading off a
list of names. One of the guards steps forward to accost Crinkleroot.
"Gar! Ye mus’ be DAFT!! Cannae ye not see me preistly garb?! Listen 'ere, tha
name's Crinkleroot. Pious Pipemaker o' Thurin. CRINKLEROOT!
C-R-I-N-K-L-E-R-O-O-T! Gar, jus' ask Warfield. He kin vouch fer me."
The young-beard guard in tears of pain from Crinkleroot’s "strong", er "harsh"
words, still holding firm to axe, still blocking Crinkleroot’s path. Crinkleroot
turns and walks away leaving a cloud of smoke in front of the guards. Warfield
turns, somehow knowing that Crinkleroot is nearby.
"Lads, dis is Bishop Chiselsmoke. Ye’ll let ‘em by or. . ."
"Or Ah’ll overwhelm ye wit such Righteous Furor, ye’ll wish ol’ Thurin hadae
carved a head on yer shoulders. . . Lord Goblincleaver, could Ah’ hae a word wit
ye in private, Ah’ve sumthin’ ta show ya?"
"Of course Crinkle. . ."
"Remember tha "project" Ah’ spoke ta ye aboot, Ah’ finished it. An’ ‘ere it is.
. ."
Crinkleroot unveils the object. Warfield smiles as he inspects the piece, then
hands it back to Crinkle.
"Fine work indeed! It’s more splendid than ye described. . ."
"Thank ye m’lord. Ah’ plan ta post up my blue-prints an’ start workin’ on one
fer each o’ tha bruthers. But Ah’m glad it meets yer approval, sire.’
"Aye. Yer quite skilled at what ye do Crinkle. Ah shall even grant ye a title
fer tha work ye’ve done."
"Thank ye. But there is much work still ta do. . ."
With that, Crinkleroot turns and heads towards the Foamymug. He is shocked at
what he sees as he approaches.
"Ah’ was goin’ ta put me blue-prints on tha tavern door, but thars NO DOOR! Ah’
bet dis hae sumthin’ ta do wit Olim an’ me tinkered magnetic circular saw. Hmmm.
. . Ah’ guess Ah’ shouldnae given dat to him. Now whar am Ah’ gonna put tha
blue-prints."
Crinkleroot spies a more heavily guarded door near the tavern "door".
"Dey only let "ordained" members o’ Champions o’ Thurin in dat hall.. . dat’s
whar Ah’ll post me blue-prints."
Crinkleroot walks past the guards on duty, enters the hall, and nails up the
blue-prints to the inside of the "Khazad Gathol’s" doors.
"Dis way, ONLY Champions o’ Thurin will be able ta see. . ."
Crinkleroot smiles and heads to the Foamymug with thoughts of a well earned
drink filling his mind. Not one synapse worried about the possiblity of well
earned fight waiting for him, hanging, dangling from the tavern ceiling. As he
entered the tavern we was met by a few glares, the most inense being none other
than Olim Irontoe.
/ooc See "BLUE-PRINTS" in Khazad Gathol board.
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>> Fair Warning <<
by
Garon Stoneshoulders
Lord Warfield does not suffer incompetence in the
adventurers he gathers around him.
We had descended into the foul depths of some sort of sewer that snakes its way
beneath the lowest ward of Stormreach harbor. There was naught to find but damp
trash gathered in corners, pools of foul water, and a wretched clan of kobolds
lurking in dark places.
My name is Garon, and have been the chief rogue in the service of Lord Warfield.
My duties are simple; I am scout. I lead the way, my keen senses and training
used to detect insidious traps before our band sets them off, and to find hidden
doors where clever kobolds hide their stolen gains.
I left our group for a moment at an intersection, motioning for them to hold, as
I took a jaunt down a side passage. As I reach yet another dead end I end an
explosion, and a plaintive cry behind me. Rushing back, I see a trap very much
active, belching fire from the maw of an ornamental gargoyle. Young Baldaran was
nearby, his singed beard smoldering yet, as Anvyl used his holy magics to heal
the light wounds.
Warfield only needed give me a look before I went into action and disabled the
trap. If only I knew what fate Warfield had in store for me.
On down the dark passage we crept, dispatching more and more kobolds. As
approached an odd area what looked like a prison of sorts, how or why it was in
the sewer we couldn't discover. Huge valves stood from the stonework, evidently
operating the metal grates of the portcullis' on either side of the passageway.
Within one chamber was an odd device, and I was dispatched to investigate. As I
turned to report that it seemed harmless, I see Lord Warfield seize the valve
and, with a mighty twist, send the bars of my prison crashing down in front of
me.
Oh, everyone feigned shock, but we all knew why it had happened. I had failed in
my duties. Conveniently, the valve only worked in one direction. Whatever
mechanism opened the gate again, we did not find.
The last I saw of my party, they were continuing on down the passageway, their
torch lights flickering in the distance. They had promised to send back help as
soon as they could, and even left me with a days provisions.
I stretched them to 3 days. They ran out 4 days ago. A week this cell has been
my prison. I fear, soon, it will be my grave.
So fair warning adventurers, do not fail! Success is rewarded with great riches,
truly, but the biggest reward is your continued favor.
Whoever next finds this note I leave, do not disturb my bones. Leave them to
serve as a warning for the next poor soul who happens by.
Signed,
Garon Stoneshoulders
