A Winding Way and Lot's of Ale....

[Bad Omens]

A band of bards plays in the corner of a dingy tavern. An empty dance floor stands before them. At the bar sits a few local bar flies slipping, as much as sitting on uneven stools. One of them seems himself to be attracting flies, moving around what looked like dried dung rings placed oddly throughout his dark auburn and black beard. This stout framed dwarf seemed to be pushing the limits of his own stool's capacity, as it creaked and cracked under his weight. He does seem oblivious to this, flailing his arms about, telling some loud boisterous story attempting to yell over the band and spilling ale from the mug in his right hand all over the bar....

"OI, I be tellin ye, twas some kinda hell pouchie, a big ugly, burnin dog!!", he screams at the Bartender before taking a big swill from his mug. His story becomes even more audacious as he seemingly begins arguing with himself "Den, all dese udder pouchies, some dem wolves, some dem dogs, some dem wolf-dogs, dey come runnin out o'......somewhere, I dunno know...but dat's not da point!", he finishes with another big swill.

"Point bein....", he then states while leaning over, closing one eye and pointing at the bartender, as if trying to focus. "Twas pretty forked up!!!", he finishes with relish, jerking his head back up, taking a big swill of his mug while laughing a booming belly laugh. Spilling half the ale over his beard and onto the floor, he slams the mug back on the bar and yells to the bartender, "OI, I'LL HAVE ANUDDER...." before he let's out a huge belch which was the straw that broke the stools back, as it gives out with a large crack under the immense combined weight of the Dwarf's girth and that of the full plate mail he is wearing.

To everyone's great surprise, the dwarf catches his footing and remains standing in quite a feet of dexterity. "Ahhhh...ye tought meh was gonna fall, eh?!?!" he says looking around at the motley crowd in a dangerous tone and a fixed stare before finishing, "BWAHAHAHAHA, make it a WHISKEY!!!". The band at this time suddenly stops playing. The bartender pours the crazed dwarf a snifter of whiskey without question while the rest of the flies' watch to see what he might do next. "Dumathoin ta Mulligan...", he yells out to everyone before slamming the glass on the bar, lucky enough to not break it and before slamming the brown liquid back into his large mouth, gulping it down.

He nods to everyone there, then transfixes his eyes on each of the flies malevolently before laughing, "BWHAHAHA....ye all ain't so...*hiccup*...bad....". The dwarf then turns around as if to leave, promptly trips over one of the legs of the broken bar stool and falls face first onto the floor where he remained without stirring. The band looks between them, as well the flies, continues playing as the rest of the Winding Way goes back to their business.......

((IC Forum for those that wish for Soulbar RP, please post here))