Post by ziglerrobertson on Aug 23, 2009 22:46:29 GMT -5
The Inn’s main room is a bustle of activity as the age old process of drinking is being practiced, by some a little too liberally. A table full of Dwarfs at the back of the room is being given a wide berth by patron and wench alike. Carneth, a temporary server seems to be the only other one who will serve them. At other tables are mixes of the various races that make up the populace of Mittlemarch.
Zigler can be seen going to and fro amongst the tables as he takes drink and food orders which he then passes on to Storm. Behind the bar the young Samurai pours the drinks, keeps a close eye for refills at the bar and occasionally finds time to wipe down a mug or two. Zigler ducks into the kitchen in order to grab some more venison and bear steaks and grins at the red skinned semi-demon man slowly stirring a big stew pot. Cathan has been ‘dropping by’ on occasion to lend a hand, and bring the groceries, when he’s not killing Jovians and otherwise causing mischief. The Jovian barrels and boxes are piled high in Cedric’s Inn’s basement. Thanks to Cathan, Zigler will be able to feed a hungry populace, at very low prices, come this winter. That’s in addition to the joy of helping to further harm the Jovians.
As Zigler steps back into the bar proper with the food he sees a young urchin pilfer the pocket of one of the wealthy Dandies sitting at the bar. Smiling, the Inn keeper asks if the ‘respected’ customer would like anything to eat, knowing full well that the man will find himself in a sticky situation come closing time.
Making sure to keep a wary eye on the youngster Zigler delivers the food to the dwarves table, momentarily breaking their conversation.
“Do ye all want refills?” Zigler asks them.
“Aye, and perhaps the pleasure o’ your conversation.” One of the dwarves speaks,” Ye may only have a bit o dwarf in ye, but its better'n none."
Zigler nods and walks back to the bar with the empty mugs on the food tray. Refilling them he talks to both Storm and Carneth, in turn and tells them to keep watch on the rest of the Inn. As Zigler returns to the dwarves table he dodges the young pick pocket who is being chased by a different rich patron. Smiling at the urchin’s predicament Zigler set the loaded tray down and pulls up a chair as the Dwarfs distribute their drinks.
The dwarf on Zigler’s right is dressed in simple earth tone clothes, a green tunic, brown vest and brown, mud caked pants complete the ensemble. The others are all dressed along the same lines save for one who wears a badge of some kind underneath a cloth arm band. Zigler sees it, but can’t identify it. To Zigler’s left is a dwarf with an unkempt beard, he seems to have imbibed a fair amount, though not enough to get him thrown out. Across the table from Zigler sits a dwarf with a braided beard.
“Have ye heard about the event that took place a day ago laddie?” the braided one asks.
“Aye, I heard some o’ what went on. Baethor took the responsibility for all his men, and was punished as a result.” Replies Zigler.
“Punished!,” spits the drunken one,” they damn near tore his beard clean off o’ his face!”
The one to Zigler’s right takes over with, “I heard that one o’ the rules of this place was that if ye tell a story, and it’s good enough, ye get yer drinks free for the night”
Zigler nods, this is something he’d wanted to try since he first took over at Cedric’s, but until Cathan started coming by he couldn’t afford to do it.
“Then listen up,” said the braided one from across the table,” Baethor stood before the accusing faces of the council……..”
Time passes as Zigler is told of the proceedings that took place at the trail. Many customers enter and leave the Inn as the night wears on approaching the wee hours of the morning. The half dwarf feels proud at how Baethor took on the responsibility for his men and is then shocked at how the guards treated their former General. Glad for Gron’s intervention, yet still worried about the injuries Baethor may have received Zigler suddenly stand’s up, interrupting the argument that had spewed forth amongst the dwarf’s after the braided one had finished.
“AKI!” Zigler shouts at the top of his lungs,”this table has free drinks. I’m going out. Lock up the place.” There is only the dwarf’s table and a few regulars left as Zigler quickly strides past the bar and into the kitchen, and from there past the unattended simmering stew pot down into the Inn’s basement. Where Cathan is securing a new Jovian to the chains embedded in the wall. Ignoring the fresh meats moans Zigler quickly shoves some venison steaks into a satchel along with some bread as Cathan heads back upstairs. Zigler then strings the heavy load across his shoulders and picks up one of the ‘smaller’ kegs of Royal Tillman beer. Heading up out of the basement and towards the front door of the Inn a note in demon script rustles at Ziglers passing, swiftly grabbing it the Inn Keeper can easily tell that the demon went out for a bit and will be back four days with more ‘ingredients’ and supplies. The regulars look longingly at the keg while the dwarves turn their heads and look at each other, save the drunken one who has passed out and is slowly making his way to the floor.
In the predawn light Zigler makes his way to Baethor’s home and forge. As he approaches the building Zigler see’s two guards standing outside the door, and more disturbing, a lack of smoke coming from the chimney. The guards say nothing and give no sign of stopping Zigler from entering. Zigler knocks strongly on the thick, metal banded wooden door. Hearing only a moan from within Zigler enters. The only light inside is what the Inn Keeper brought with him. Setting down the keg and relieving himself of the satchel, Zigler walks further into the room. One of the guards reaches in, closes the door, plunging the room back into darkness. Zigler reaches into his pouch and withdraws a small green crystal, whispering ‘illuminieren’ yields a strong green glow that fills the room.
“Baethor?” Zigler asks.
“…..ohhhhh……” is the response from a pile of furs on a pallet.
“Baethor….?” The Zigler asks as he moves over to the pallet and pulls the furs back. Baethor’s bruised body eerily reflects the glow of the crystal. His entire upper body seems to be a mass of bruises and dried blood. It’s obvious that the beatings continued long after Gron was out of sight.
“Dear Lords……..” Zigler exclaimed.
Through the blood and pain Baethor smiles, “’ello my friend, I dinna hear you knock.”
“How could ye,” replies Zigler,” yer ears are probably full o’ blood.”
Baethor chuckles painfully as Zigler reaches for the medicines in his belt pouches. The injured dwarf’s arm snakes out from under the covers and holds his friends wrist fast. “Now I be needin’ none o’ that,” he states as he peers through the green glow. “If’in that be a keg o’ beer by me front door I’ll be more than happy to take a swig.”
Zigler nods, gets up and sets the keg down on a nearby table. Turning the cork the Inn Keeper pulls a deep tankard from his belt and fills it. Walking the Tillman back to the prone Baethor, Zigler kneels and helps him to drink. With a little sputtering and cursing the injured dwarf finishes off the tankard. Zigler walks over to shelves lining one wall of the Baethor’s room and takes down another tankard, then filling both up, returns to the bedside where he puts down the beer and helps Baethor attain a sitting position.
Both men drink the beer throughout the morning as Zigler tells Baethor about Cedric’s and the people who have come by to help out and to drink, in order to keep his mind off of Baethor’s injuries. He tells the injured dwarf about Cathan’s help, and Storm’s sacrifice and how he is grateful that both are helping him. Zigler then tells of the new rule over at Cedric’s Inn, how if you tell a good story, and others agree, you get your nights drinks free. He tells Baethor of the attempted extortion by the Thieves Guild, and of the squatters who had taken over the building when Zigler first returned.
The morning sun peeks strongly through the curtains as Zigler straightens up, “Theses supplies should help sustain ye for a few days. I’ll build ye a fire and then be on my way.” Putting actions to his words Zigler begins to build a fire in Baethor’s forge as the forges owner drifts back into a fitful and pain racked sleep. Placing the covers back over his friend Zigler leaves the house, closes the door and doesn’t give the guards a second glance.
As Zigler approaches the back entrance to Cedric’s early in the morning, long after the Inn should be closed he sees something written on the back of his door.
Times are changing. The tall ones would not know. Speak to Baethor. Bolgaz Bri-Ak-Duraz
Zigler smiles at the camaraderie displayed by the dwarf who wrote this. The Inn Keeper quickly steps inside, locking the door and makes his way towards bed with a head full of dreams. For tomorrow is another day, more stories will be told by many a drunken warrior, more beer will be drank, more pilfered food eaten. Bread and circuses can be fun, especially when it’s on someone else’s bill.
Zigler can be seen going to and fro amongst the tables as he takes drink and food orders which he then passes on to Storm. Behind the bar the young Samurai pours the drinks, keeps a close eye for refills at the bar and occasionally finds time to wipe down a mug or two. Zigler ducks into the kitchen in order to grab some more venison and bear steaks and grins at the red skinned semi-demon man slowly stirring a big stew pot. Cathan has been ‘dropping by’ on occasion to lend a hand, and bring the groceries, when he’s not killing Jovians and otherwise causing mischief. The Jovian barrels and boxes are piled high in Cedric’s Inn’s basement. Thanks to Cathan, Zigler will be able to feed a hungry populace, at very low prices, come this winter. That’s in addition to the joy of helping to further harm the Jovians.
As Zigler steps back into the bar proper with the food he sees a young urchin pilfer the pocket of one of the wealthy Dandies sitting at the bar. Smiling, the Inn keeper asks if the ‘respected’ customer would like anything to eat, knowing full well that the man will find himself in a sticky situation come closing time.
Making sure to keep a wary eye on the youngster Zigler delivers the food to the dwarves table, momentarily breaking their conversation.
“Do ye all want refills?” Zigler asks them.
“Aye, and perhaps the pleasure o’ your conversation.” One of the dwarves speaks,” Ye may only have a bit o dwarf in ye, but its better'n none."
Zigler nods and walks back to the bar with the empty mugs on the food tray. Refilling them he talks to both Storm and Carneth, in turn and tells them to keep watch on the rest of the Inn. As Zigler returns to the dwarves table he dodges the young pick pocket who is being chased by a different rich patron. Smiling at the urchin’s predicament Zigler set the loaded tray down and pulls up a chair as the Dwarfs distribute their drinks.
The dwarf on Zigler’s right is dressed in simple earth tone clothes, a green tunic, brown vest and brown, mud caked pants complete the ensemble. The others are all dressed along the same lines save for one who wears a badge of some kind underneath a cloth arm band. Zigler sees it, but can’t identify it. To Zigler’s left is a dwarf with an unkempt beard, he seems to have imbibed a fair amount, though not enough to get him thrown out. Across the table from Zigler sits a dwarf with a braided beard.
“Have ye heard about the event that took place a day ago laddie?” the braided one asks.
“Aye, I heard some o’ what went on. Baethor took the responsibility for all his men, and was punished as a result.” Replies Zigler.
“Punished!,” spits the drunken one,” they damn near tore his beard clean off o’ his face!”
The one to Zigler’s right takes over with, “I heard that one o’ the rules of this place was that if ye tell a story, and it’s good enough, ye get yer drinks free for the night”
Zigler nods, this is something he’d wanted to try since he first took over at Cedric’s, but until Cathan started coming by he couldn’t afford to do it.
“Then listen up,” said the braided one from across the table,” Baethor stood before the accusing faces of the council……..”
***
Time passes as Zigler is told of the proceedings that took place at the trail. Many customers enter and leave the Inn as the night wears on approaching the wee hours of the morning. The half dwarf feels proud at how Baethor took on the responsibility for his men and is then shocked at how the guards treated their former General. Glad for Gron’s intervention, yet still worried about the injuries Baethor may have received Zigler suddenly stand’s up, interrupting the argument that had spewed forth amongst the dwarf’s after the braided one had finished.
“AKI!” Zigler shouts at the top of his lungs,”this table has free drinks. I’m going out. Lock up the place.” There is only the dwarf’s table and a few regulars left as Zigler quickly strides past the bar and into the kitchen, and from there past the unattended simmering stew pot down into the Inn’s basement. Where Cathan is securing a new Jovian to the chains embedded in the wall. Ignoring the fresh meats moans Zigler quickly shoves some venison steaks into a satchel along with some bread as Cathan heads back upstairs. Zigler then strings the heavy load across his shoulders and picks up one of the ‘smaller’ kegs of Royal Tillman beer. Heading up out of the basement and towards the front door of the Inn a note in demon script rustles at Ziglers passing, swiftly grabbing it the Inn Keeper can easily tell that the demon went out for a bit and will be back four days with more ‘ingredients’ and supplies. The regulars look longingly at the keg while the dwarves turn their heads and look at each other, save the drunken one who has passed out and is slowly making his way to the floor.
In the predawn light Zigler makes his way to Baethor’s home and forge. As he approaches the building Zigler see’s two guards standing outside the door, and more disturbing, a lack of smoke coming from the chimney. The guards say nothing and give no sign of stopping Zigler from entering. Zigler knocks strongly on the thick, metal banded wooden door. Hearing only a moan from within Zigler enters. The only light inside is what the Inn Keeper brought with him. Setting down the keg and relieving himself of the satchel, Zigler walks further into the room. One of the guards reaches in, closes the door, plunging the room back into darkness. Zigler reaches into his pouch and withdraws a small green crystal, whispering ‘illuminieren’ yields a strong green glow that fills the room.
“Baethor?” Zigler asks.
“…..ohhhhh……” is the response from a pile of furs on a pallet.
“Baethor….?” The Zigler asks as he moves over to the pallet and pulls the furs back. Baethor’s bruised body eerily reflects the glow of the crystal. His entire upper body seems to be a mass of bruises and dried blood. It’s obvious that the beatings continued long after Gron was out of sight.
“Dear Lords……..” Zigler exclaimed.
Through the blood and pain Baethor smiles, “’ello my friend, I dinna hear you knock.”
“How could ye,” replies Zigler,” yer ears are probably full o’ blood.”
Baethor chuckles painfully as Zigler reaches for the medicines in his belt pouches. The injured dwarf’s arm snakes out from under the covers and holds his friends wrist fast. “Now I be needin’ none o’ that,” he states as he peers through the green glow. “If’in that be a keg o’ beer by me front door I’ll be more than happy to take a swig.”
Zigler nods, gets up and sets the keg down on a nearby table. Turning the cork the Inn Keeper pulls a deep tankard from his belt and fills it. Walking the Tillman back to the prone Baethor, Zigler kneels and helps him to drink. With a little sputtering and cursing the injured dwarf finishes off the tankard. Zigler walks over to shelves lining one wall of the Baethor’s room and takes down another tankard, then filling both up, returns to the bedside where he puts down the beer and helps Baethor attain a sitting position.
Both men drink the beer throughout the morning as Zigler tells Baethor about Cedric’s and the people who have come by to help out and to drink, in order to keep his mind off of Baethor’s injuries. He tells the injured dwarf about Cathan’s help, and Storm’s sacrifice and how he is grateful that both are helping him. Zigler then tells of the new rule over at Cedric’s Inn, how if you tell a good story, and others agree, you get your nights drinks free. He tells Baethor of the attempted extortion by the Thieves Guild, and of the squatters who had taken over the building when Zigler first returned.
The morning sun peeks strongly through the curtains as Zigler straightens up, “Theses supplies should help sustain ye for a few days. I’ll build ye a fire and then be on my way.” Putting actions to his words Zigler begins to build a fire in Baethor’s forge as the forges owner drifts back into a fitful and pain racked sleep. Placing the covers back over his friend Zigler leaves the house, closes the door and doesn’t give the guards a second glance.
As Zigler approaches the back entrance to Cedric’s early in the morning, long after the Inn should be closed he sees something written on the back of his door.
Times are changing. The tall ones would not know. Speak to Baethor. Bolgaz Bri-Ak-Duraz
Zigler smiles at the camaraderie displayed by the dwarf who wrote this. The Inn Keeper quickly steps inside, locking the door and makes his way towards bed with a head full of dreams. For tomorrow is another day, more stories will be told by many a drunken warrior, more beer will be drank, more pilfered food eaten. Bread and circuses can be fun, especially when it’s on someone else’s bill.