Brute Posted October 22, 2003 Report Share Posted October 22, 2003 The old dwarf moved slowly among the tavern's patrons,and amid their racous laughter and their boastful tales, he found an empty table not too far from the glowing hearth. His hazel eyes peered from under his stern brow, regarding the crowd gathered within the Pen's tavern. He approved of this place, for it mostly held folk who came for the frequent tales and songs. Jarom had seen more than enough rough taverns and inns that held nothing but thieves, brawlers, and worse. He felt too old for that environment now. The dwarf removed from his pouch a carved pipe and a pouch of good tobacco. He packed the bowl tightly and lit it, drawing long puffs of blue smoke from the stem of the pipe. Jarom motioned for a mug of ale, then looked over the crowd once more. He instantly caught sight of a looming figure entering the tavern. Jarom regarded the fellow as ebony hands reached up to remove the cowl that hung around the newcomer's head. Jarom knew before seeing the bald and pallid head who it was. Several patrons warmly greeted Brute as the massive mage completed his daily journey to the bar. Settling into his familiar stool, Brute glanced around the room. As his ebony eyes fell upon the elder dwarf, Brute shot a mischievious grin to Jarom, who returned it with a scowl and a few muttered words. Jarom squinted at Brute then raised his mug to his bearded mouth, blocking his view. When Jarom lowered the mug, Brute was talking and laughing with several other patrons. Jarom released a sigh and puffed again at his pipe. "Every night it is the same. He comes in here and nearly drinks the place dry. What could possibly drive a man to drink so?", a soft voice asked. "That is the way of drunkards such as he," came a swift and harsh reply. Jarom swung his head around to see who had spoken. A pretty young lady and a stern-faced man sat at the table next to Jarom, both staring intently at Brute. The girl held a hint of pity in her eyes while the man's face was filled with contempt as he watched Brute finish another mug of strong ale. The dwarf regarded each for a moment, then spoke. "You know nothing, lad. Watch yer tongue when you speak of Brute," Jarom growled. The man reddened indignantly and opened his mouth. "Listen here, you old..." The girl quickly laid her hand lightly upon the man's arm and interupted him. "Please, I am new to this place and have seen this man they call Brute. He intrigues me. I've asked several people about him and while many know him, noone seems to know about him. Do you know him well enough to answer a few questions?" Jarom glared harshly at the girl. For several long moments, neither one spoke as the dwarf seemed to measure the two youngsters with his gaze. Finally, he answered her. "Aye, girl. If you've got some time, I suppose I can enlighten you a bit about Brute." Jarom looked across the room and watched Brute for a moment, his old weathered face unreadable, then he turned back to the man and the woman before him. "Contrary to what many think," Jarom began, "Brute doesn't drink for simple love of booze. Well, not entirely, anyway. No lass, he drinks to forget." Jarom took a slow puff from his pipe as his mind recalled the long and dark tale of Brute's past. "He's lived an unnaturally long life, you see, so it begins even before I was born." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peredhil Posted October 23, 2003 Report Share Posted October 23, 2003 w00t! :woot: I've always wondered... sits to listen, waiting for the very end when Melba arrives... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ayshela Posted October 23, 2003 Report Share Posted October 23, 2003 OOOOOOOOOH!!! tiptoes in with a big bowl of popcorn to share with those who want to listen, too.. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gyrfalcon Posted October 24, 2003 Report Share Posted October 24, 2003 Gyrfalcon sneaks in as well to sit near Peredhil, snacking on a helpfully provided handful of popcorn. Gyrfalcon slowly works his way through the handful, waiting for Brute to gather his thoughts and continue the tale. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Salinye Posted October 24, 2003 Report Share Posted October 24, 2003 Ohh! tiptoes in as silent as can be sitting down next to GyrE and stealing a few kernals of his previously stolen popcorn. "This will be sooo good to hear!" She whispered. ~Salinye Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ayshela Posted October 24, 2003 Report Share Posted October 24, 2003 passes the bowl of popcorn down the line, reminding Sal that you can't steal what's willingly given Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Silver Dragon Posted November 5, 2003 Report Share Posted November 5, 2003 As Jarom begins his tale of the tragedy of Brute Silver Dragon enters the bar and upon seeing all the people gathered close to the old dwarf she meanders over to investigate. With the last words of his tale floating over the small gathering she takes a seat close enough to hear his tale. While sipping her wine she feigns disintrist in what the grizzled dwarf has to say, all the while soaking in every word that escapes from his mouth. :dragon4: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyvern Posted November 7, 2003 Report Share Posted November 7, 2003 Dressed in jungle camoflauge gear and under the impression that it will somehow hide him in his position on a pole near the ceiling of the bar, Wyvern slowly adjusts the headphones over his scaly ears and lowers the stealth microphone cord he carries down until it rests directly above Jarom's head. A recorded version of Brute's history... Alcoholics Anonymous would pay billions for this! OOC: Can't wait until this story is continued... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Brute Posted December 1, 2003 Author Report Share Posted December 1, 2003 (edited) At the bar, Brute could easily hear the dwarf's gravelly voice despite the noise of the patrons. He listened patiently while Jarom began to recite the history that Brute himself had told to his old friend. As he listened, his ebony hands wrapped around a mug that rested upon the bar and his pitch black eyes focused somewhere far beyond the mug before him. Memories long forgotten sprang into his mind, causing mild surprise from the pale mage at the clarity they still held for him. ***** A warm spring breeze blew from the southwest, slowly finding it's way across green, rolling meadows. Onward it blew, over low stone walls that delineated this field from that one, and over a small village bustling with people eager to be out of doors. The breeze danced and dipped across the village green, then moved on to gently tug at the clothes of several children. It tousled their hair, then sped along, making it's way towards the massive, somber castle that rested atop a hill overlooking the village below. Up a stone wall the warm wind flowed, and across the ramparts. It pulled the cloaks of armed men that walked there, then rose even more, finding an open window high in the keep. The wind wrapped around the man leaning against the window sill and whipped his dark hair across a deeply tanned face. Glittering blue eyes watched the sentries below making their rounds along the wall. His gaze swept further out, to the village beyond the wall and further still past the fields and searched the dark treeline. Past the thick forest, hazy hills rose abruptly from the land. His eyes searched among them for what he could not see, what he feared remained hidden. Movement below him drew his eyes down. A black laquered coach drawn by a team of horses rapidly approached the gatehouse. Mounted guards rode on either side of the coach and two guards in front flew banners. Even from this distance, he could make out the rampant lion embroidered in gold upon a field of crimson. The king's banner. The other banner that flew beside the king's held a yellow crescent upon a black field. The man squinted and scowled at the sight of the second banner. Karlo, the king's advisor was in that carriage. The frequent regret that he didn't kill Karlo years ago invaded the man's thoughts as he turned from the window. Regardless of who was with the king, he would need to be down there when they arrived. Edited December 1, 2003 by Brute Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts