Kezzek
11-08-99, 01:33 PM
Bar Tales, Episode 1
The long day of petty thievery, scuffles, and shadow creeping done, you stroll into the tavern and take a seat in the only open spot at the bar. The bartender, as if reading your mind, slaps a semi-clean glass and a bottle of Kalish in front of you. Pouring yourself a drink, you take a slow look around. Immediately you set eyes on the poor chap next to you. His slumped shoulders and downcast eyes speak a thousand words. Dirty face, torn clothing, and bloodied cheek, he is the complete personification of defeat. You notice a single gold coin pinched in one shaky hand and a half full glass in the other.
The barkeep strolls up and stands before the fellow, casually wiping the counter.
"Anything else I can get ya, Silas?" says the barkeep, eyebrow raised scornfully.
"Y-yeah. Bottle of brandy. If'n I'm gunna go down, I'm gunna go down feelin' good, Nat," mutters Silas.
Flushing with anger, Nat plants his hands on the bar and leans close to Silas. "Silas! Get some sense in that rockhead o'yers.," he hisses. "Yer not about t' change things by gettin' yerself killed! It's only MONEY!"
Your interest piqued, you slowly drain your glass and pour yourself another.
"T' hell with that, Nat!" exclaims Silas, slapping his hand on the edge of the bar. Eyes around the room glance at Silas quickly and as quickly, turn away. Silas notices and becomes more subdued. "They gots it all, Nat. ALL of it. Left me nuttin' but bruises and a single gad-blasted coin." Subconsciously, Silas' hand drifts up to his cut cheekbone. Wincing, Silas curses quietly.
"At least they left yer skin to be bruised, Silas," whispers Nat, resuming his countertop polishing. "People been disappearin' round here. You know why and you know who, Silas. It's not fer you to be messin' with."
Abruptly, Silas stands, his barstool nearly topples over. Silas tosses back the remains of his drink, wipes his chin and turns to go.
"I'm gettin' it back, Nat. They're gunna pay." seethes Silas through clenched teeth as he limps out the tavern door.
Nat the barkeep drops his wipe rag to the countertop and shakes his head in disgust. "Stupid fool," he mutters as he clears Silas' glass from the bar, "Gunna get himself killed for money.
Nat notices your obvious attention to matters at hand.
"Anything else you need, friend?" asks Nat.
"Yeah. How 'bout a meat pie aaand..." You slide a silver coin across the countertop. Smoothly and quietly, you slip a gold coin under the silver. "...some info on what just happened there."
Nat spots the gold coin and clenches his jaw. Lifting his eyes from the coin to yours, he says, "I be burnin' at Innoruuk's feet for sendin' another fool to his death."
Silently, you drain your glass again.
Temptation too great, Nat grabs the coins and slips them into the folds of his apron.
"Two words, friend. Barking Mice. Now don't ask no more!," he whispers. Louder, "Meat pie! Comin' up!" Nat turns and leaves to the kitchen area.
Left in your own silence, you puzzle over Nat's words. "Barking Mice"? What does that mean? You fill your glass with Kalish and ponder those words, Silas' fate, and your own.
-END-
Kezzek Bladefiend,Ret.
Fennin Ro
Stane - Fennin Ro
Gilligan - Test
Shodan (ench.) -Test
*Kezzek vanishes.*
The long day of petty thievery, scuffles, and shadow creeping done, you stroll into the tavern and take a seat in the only open spot at the bar. The bartender, as if reading your mind, slaps a semi-clean glass and a bottle of Kalish in front of you. Pouring yourself a drink, you take a slow look around. Immediately you set eyes on the poor chap next to you. His slumped shoulders and downcast eyes speak a thousand words. Dirty face, torn clothing, and bloodied cheek, he is the complete personification of defeat. You notice a single gold coin pinched in one shaky hand and a half full glass in the other.
The barkeep strolls up and stands before the fellow, casually wiping the counter.
"Anything else I can get ya, Silas?" says the barkeep, eyebrow raised scornfully.
"Y-yeah. Bottle of brandy. If'n I'm gunna go down, I'm gunna go down feelin' good, Nat," mutters Silas.
Flushing with anger, Nat plants his hands on the bar and leans close to Silas. "Silas! Get some sense in that rockhead o'yers.," he hisses. "Yer not about t' change things by gettin' yerself killed! It's only MONEY!"
Your interest piqued, you slowly drain your glass and pour yourself another.
"T' hell with that, Nat!" exclaims Silas, slapping his hand on the edge of the bar. Eyes around the room glance at Silas quickly and as quickly, turn away. Silas notices and becomes more subdued. "They gots it all, Nat. ALL of it. Left me nuttin' but bruises and a single gad-blasted coin." Subconsciously, Silas' hand drifts up to his cut cheekbone. Wincing, Silas curses quietly.
"At least they left yer skin to be bruised, Silas," whispers Nat, resuming his countertop polishing. "People been disappearin' round here. You know why and you know who, Silas. It's not fer you to be messin' with."
Abruptly, Silas stands, his barstool nearly topples over. Silas tosses back the remains of his drink, wipes his chin and turns to go.
"I'm gettin' it back, Nat. They're gunna pay." seethes Silas through clenched teeth as he limps out the tavern door.
Nat the barkeep drops his wipe rag to the countertop and shakes his head in disgust. "Stupid fool," he mutters as he clears Silas' glass from the bar, "Gunna get himself killed for money.
Nat notices your obvious attention to matters at hand.
"Anything else you need, friend?" asks Nat.
"Yeah. How 'bout a meat pie aaand..." You slide a silver coin across the countertop. Smoothly and quietly, you slip a gold coin under the silver. "...some info on what just happened there."
Nat spots the gold coin and clenches his jaw. Lifting his eyes from the coin to yours, he says, "I be burnin' at Innoruuk's feet for sendin' another fool to his death."
Silently, you drain your glass again.
Temptation too great, Nat grabs the coins and slips them into the folds of his apron.
"Two words, friend. Barking Mice. Now don't ask no more!," he whispers. Louder, "Meat pie! Comin' up!" Nat turns and leaves to the kitchen area.
Left in your own silence, you puzzle over Nat's words. "Barking Mice"? What does that mean? You fill your glass with Kalish and ponder those words, Silas' fate, and your own.
-END-
Kezzek Bladefiend,Ret.
Fennin Ro
Stane - Fennin Ro
Gilligan - Test
Shodan (ench.) -Test
*Kezzek vanishes.*