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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Find the Almost Cork in the Three Booze Mugs


Wyvern

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Wyvern casts a glance towards Ayshela as he builds his first Winter Carnival booth, hissing with glee as she nods in approval at his choice of decorations. The lizard sets up a large, wooden table constructed entirely out of leftover beer barrels, and proceeds to arrange three used booze mugs on the table, face down. He then reaches into one of his tunic pockets and pulls out what appears to be Almost a Wine Cork; a cork slightly dented by Wyvern teeth marks from back when it was first removed from the bottle. Glancing left and right, the overgrown lizard snickers and quickly shoves the almost cork underneath the middle mug, which is emblazoned with the phrase "Ol' Peculiar 4 Life." Having done this, Wyvern signals to Bravery the Elder Dwarf, who is attired in the suite of a bartender, and hisses:

 

"Alright Bravery, thingsss are looking good here. You can set it up now."

 

Bravery nods upon hearing this, and adjusts his cufflinks as he reaches into his pouch and pulls out a sign. Taking out his trusty hammer, he nails the sign a few inches left from the booth, and then reads it out loud to make sure that it relays the proper information:

 

Wintur Carneval Game - Expe Cheap!

Find thu almost cork, and win grate prizes!

5 urned geld for pay participating.

5 (normal) geld to entur.

 

Wyvern nods in approval as Bravery reads the sign, practicing his claw maneuvers as he swiftly switches the positions of the three cups. The lizard curses to himself as he clumsily knocks one of them over, and turns to grab it only to hit another one over with his tail.

 

"I really wish you'd put more care into your spelling, Wyvern." sighs Bravery, shaking his head and seating himself next to the table. "So let's go over this again... my job is to offer participants free Bruteweiser samples while they participate, to distract them and get them drunk?"

 

"Shhhhhhhhh" hisses Wyvern, nodding sinisterly as he arranges the three mugs back on the table. "Yeah, and make sure that all the back-ups are in place."

 

"Umm, Wyvern?" mumbles Bravery.

 

"Yesss?"

 

"You might want to arrange those cups face down..."

 

"Oh!" exclaims Wyvern, quickly flipping the mugs to their proper face down positions. "Right, thanks."

 

Bravery lets out a massive sigh as Wyvern stands and begins waving his hands, hissing:

 

"Sssssstep right up! Play your hand at a game of find the Almost Cork and recieve 5 earned geld for any permanent scars... err, that is for participating. Only 5 geld to enter, cheap!"

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Black walks up to the stand and realizing he has no geld to his name(Board geld right?), he takes out of his pocket a fake but oh so real looking 5 geld piece. Sitting down at the stand...Black tosses the piece Wyverns way.

 

Black-"I'll play the game." Taking a seat...Black awaits a responce. While awaiting the responce...Black was offered a free bruteweiser...which he accepted. What Wyvern didn't know...is that Black was a professional drunk. Meaning that it took A LOT to make him drunk enough to lose his ability. Being a vampire has it's perks.

Edited by Black9
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Two short, thick-skulled skeletons amble to the side of the booth, concealed by the barrels taller than they are. One taps on the side of a barrel with its long skeletal fingers, skull tilted to the side, listening; the other lifts its skull off of its head and shakes until a sharp-edged tap and small hammer fall out. The taps change from loud to muffled, and the tapping skeleton points to a certain level at the barrel. Both look intently at the spot, then rumble, "Booooooooooooooooze!" Minta peers from around the edge of a nearby tent, giggling madly at the pair of dwarf skellies. It took lots an' lots of cave exploring to find two dwarf skeletons not crushed by rockslides or eaten by big scary cave monsters, but this was sooo gonna be worth it!

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Peredhil ambled by and put his money down, passing with a smile on the drink.

 

Looking at the Dwarf Skellies, he looked around for Minta, but didn't see her. Subtly weaving several Pixie Stix through one of the skeleton's ribs, he turned to Wyvern and motioned for the game to begin.

 

Wyvern begin mixing the mugs rapidly and stopped with a toothy grin.

"Which one will ya pick?"

 

"Wyvern..." Peredhil frowned slightly, "Shouldn't you put the cork under one of the mugs?" Wyvern looked down to see the cork sticking to one of the claws on his hand. Scales slightly blushing, he quickly put the cork under one of the mugs and mixed again.

"There!"

Bravery was wiggling in excitement. "The middle one! The middle one!" So fixed on the game was Bravery that he didn't notice one of the skellies using a small hammer to gently tap a gnarled knot in one of the barrel's staves. The bass moaning of "boooooooze" when unnoticed as well.

Both Wyvern and Peredhil cast a quelling eye on Bravery. Peredhil suggested to Wyvern that if he puts the cork under the middle mug to start every time, he might want to actually move the mug, not just the end ones. Wyvern gave a startled look, and mixed slowly and carefully, his tongue caught in concentration between his fangs.

In fact, he moved so slowly, the mug with the cork remained obvious. When he stopped, Peredhil's hands reached out in a blur.

 

The mugs spun and whirled, their metal mouths flinging sparks as the whisked in and out in hypnotic dizzying patterns.

 

In shock, Wyvern's jaw dropped and his tongue unrolled.

 

"Wow! I pick THAT one!" Peredhil smiled and tipped the mug - empty.

"I meant, THAT one!" The Ancient Elf tipped the other mug - empty. They both eyed the mug in the middle as Wyvern muttered, "I never thought you'd leave it there..."

 

"Sorry Wyvern, you pay your money, you take your chances! Feel free to play again!" Peredhil pocketed five geld and moved away to look at the other sights. Wyvern looked in awe after him, shaking his head.

 

"Boss," said Bravery from his perch, "I thought YOU were supposed to make THEM guess." Wyvern gave Bravery a startled look and began to run around his stand in pursuit of Peredhil.

 

Just then, the knot in the stave in the barrel with the booze gave way. Bruteweiser began to gush in a stream. Dwarven skellies screamed "BOOOOOOOZE!" in delight. Minta screamed in happiness at the fun.

Wyvern hit the booze-soaked mud which was suddenly in his path, and flew up into the air, only to come crashing down on his tail, spattering mud every where.

 

Black fastidiously flicked mud from his clothes and began laughing at the mud-drenched Almost Dragon's expression...

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"Oh *cough* great, I knew I shouldn'tve filled those *hack* barrels with Bruteweiser Extra Meady™... now this stuff'll never wash off."

 

Wyvern slowly lifts himself from his spot in the mud, only to slip and splatter back into the alcohol-drenched dirt. After several attempts at lifting himself, the lizard finally manages to stand up straight, humming "wet wet wet" to himself glumly as he brushes off large clumps of mud and silently mourns the loss of the 5 geld that Black had previously handed him. The overgrown lizard turns towards the now-visible dwarf skeletons for a moment and shakes a fist at them, slapping his forehead when they mistake his angered hand motion for a dwarven drinking gesture and shake their fists back. Noticing that Bravery is also shaking his fist, Wyvern stomps his foot on the ground and lets out a long hiss before turning towards Black and muttering:

 

"R-right, sssorry to keep you waiting. Just lemme get set up here a sec."

 

Black raises a brow as the overgrown lizard scoops up the beer mugs in what appear to be Bruteweiser mud pies and tosses the mess onto the table. The reptilian Elder then dives into the mud for a few moments, occasionally resurfacing for air until he's finally found his Almost Cork again. Having retrieved it, Wyvern tosses the cork underneath the middle cup, and grins as he hisses:

 

"Watch out now, Black. After watching a master expert at work and learning from his slightly superior abilities, I feel like my game has drastically improved."

 

With that, the lizard sluggishly begins switching the positions of all three of the muddy cups, making sure that the Almost Cork doesn't move from it's position at the center of the table as he does so. After lifting and clamping down the last mug, the greedy lizard grins and hisses:

 

"Take your best shot!"

 

Black stares at Wyvern blankly for a moment, wondering if he's really serious, and mutters:

 

"Uhhh... the middle one?"

 

Wyvern's jaw drops upon hearing Black's response, and he proceeds to bang his scaly head on the table several times before snorting:

 

"Beginners luck! *sigh* Well, as a prize, you can help yourself to as much of this new supply of Almost Dragonic Brand Meaud™ as you'd like."

 

Black half-smirks upon hearing this, and begins to head off when Wyvern blurts:

 

"Oh, and for the record: no earned geld is required to play this game! Just bring your normal geld, which all of us (except maybe me) have, and you're good to go."

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Black gave a grin as he departed from his friends side. Responding with a nod that signaled he was thanking the Almost Dragon for the new found info...as well as the Almost Dragonic Brand Meaud. Black couldn't help but laugh at the goings on...as it was all in good fun as he took up a mug of the Almost Dragonic Brand Meaud. Taking the first drink of the meaud.

 

Black-"Well, bottoms up!" Wyvern tried to warn Black not to drink it down in one gulp...but it was already too late. After emptying the mug...Black started to feel an odd feeling in his stomach.

 

Wyvern-"Why did you?" Wyvern stepped back as he knew something was going to happen. Black's body turned a redish color...and blew up from the inside with quite a spectacle. Being of the undead already...steam came from his ears as a small explostion erupted from within and quickly healed do to being undead and all. Wyvern look worried as Black turned his way once again.

 

Black-"Now that's my kind of drink!" Taking another for the road...Black took another look around the area.

Edited by Black9
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A gryphonic shadow passes over the top of the booth and Wyvern glances up just in time to see Gryphon fly directly through the alcohol fumes and go into a tail spin from the strength of them.

 

With a struggle he rights himself and comes to an unsteady landing just a short way from the Almost Venerable Almost Dragon.

 

Shaking his head (gently) to clear it, and breathing deeply to clear the dizzyness from the fumes Gryphon walks back over to Wyvern's mug game.

 

Surveying the scene Gryphon notices the muddy alcoholic pool and the smears of mud streaking Wyvern, the mugs and some of the booth.

 

~~~

 

How's business this early in the season? It looks like you've had a few customers already... rough crowd?

 

~~~

 

Gryphon reaches into a pouch slung around his neck and drops the 5 geld onto the tabletop.

 

~~~

 

It looks like fun, lets have a go.

:D

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Minta squeals with glee, "Mudpies!!!!" She dashes out of cover after tugging off her shoes and happily slogs through gnomie-knee-deep liquored mud, making wonderful splorching noises with her toes and soles. The hem of her robe at first floats on the thin layer of purer alcohol on the surface, but gradually absorbs water and sinks, leaving a deepening track in the mud just above the rapidly refilling foot- and leg-prints. Back and forth she goes, stirring up that section of the carnival grounds to an impassable bog, stamping out her name in mud tracks, but only getting to the T before the M sinks back into the mud and she needs to start all over again.

 

By the sprung barrel, one skeleton filches a second mug from the booth's back-up supplies and grandstands a bit, alternating pouring from both mugs above its head, booze splashing on its skull and jaw and soaking its vertebrae before falling into the mud. The other skeleton lies on what was once its back, jaw wide open, under the tap, and lets a frothy stream fall through its open mouth and onto the mud, flooding out to join the pool forming all around the booth, and soaking the hems of Black's pants.

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Having nothing to do at his maze for a few moments, Venefyxatu decides to come over and have a drink, as wel as try his luck at Wyvern's game. In an attempt to keep his robes at least somewhat clean he casts his levitation spell again, floating around Minta splashing through the mud.

When offered his free Bruteweiser he gladly accepts, hoping that it'll warm him up a bit while he's waiting for Gryphon's turn. After a few sips, however, he starts feeling a bit fuzzy and notices that the air under his feet isn't as firm as it used to be.

"Whee... where'd he geddoze t...three eczdra *hiccup*s vrom? Hehe... ne'rreally hadda head fer *hiccup* zdrong alloc... hollac.... alloholololoc... thingy. I godzzzz....zomthing dad'll zober me *hiccup* though."

Wyvern, knowing that no matter what all the books in the world say the first rule of wizardry is to never let a drunken mage cast a spell and worried that he'll see his booth vanish together with the gold he already earned in some mad spell, grabs a potion from a full crate and rushes over to Venefyxatu to stop him.

"I've got ssssssomething much better here.", he hisses.

"An Almost Dragonic Brand Cheap Drunkenness Removal Potion™! And becausssse you're a nice guy and it's my last one I'll offer it to you for only 10 gold!"

Wyvern, having seen the full crate, interrupts.

"Uhh... didn't you take that potion out of..."

"Nonono... it'sssss my last one! Honessst!"

"Whoopee! T... ten goold? And fivve fer the game?" Venefyxatu takes 20 gold out of his pouch, adds 10 more to that and hands it to Wyvern, who quickly pockets it before Gryphon can interrupt.

Leaving Venefyxatu with the potion, he quickly turns to end Gryphon's wait.

Venefyxatu, shrugging happily, quaffs the potion, immediately followed by steam rising from his ears.

Gryphon : "Uhh, Wyvern, is that normal?"

Wyvern : "Ssssure is!"

Venefyxatu launches himself from his chair with a backflip that nobody would've believed him capable of and lands on his feet in the mud, sending splashes every which way, but sober.

 

"Heh... that drink did get me warmed up..."

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Minta tired of the project as the mud was simply too slippery to hold writing. Instead, she started sticking pixystix end-up into the mud, forming a firm perimeter as the sugar soaked up some of the water. Sitting in the middle, she pushed mud towards the pixystix wrappers, where it clung to form a palisade, and studded the outside with razor-sharp bits of crushed mana crystals. So engrossed was she in her work that the skellies started to slip free of her control. . .

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Wyvern waves to Black one final time as the vampire departs from the area, and rearranges the three mugs on his table as he welcomes Gryphon and Venefyxatu to his humble little booth. Grinning to himself sinisterly and turning towards Bravery for a moment, the lizard dodges some of the Meud splashed up by Minta and hisses:

 

"Bravery, if you could bottle some of that Almost Dragonic Brand Meud™ inbetween intervals of offering Bruteweiser to participants and looking after the booze barrels, all while keeping an eye out on any potential participants, that would be great!"

 

"I-" starts Bravery, only to let out a frustrated sigh as the Almost Dragon turns back to his new customers.

 

"Very well Gryphon" hisses Wyvern confidently, shifting a protective claw underneath the middle mug and quickly placing it face down on the table. "Ready to be put to the tesssst?"

 

Gryphon nods, then watches as Wyvern moves the mugs on the left and the right of the table forwards and backwards in a few sluggish movements, raising a brow as the lizard stops the game there and exclaims:

 

"Take yer best guess!"

 

Gryphon rolls his eyes and sighs, shrugging at the lack of challenge and responding:

 

"The middle mug."

 

Wyvern grins upon hearing this, and lets out a sinister cackle as he lifts the middle mug and reveals that it's empty. Gryphon's jaw drops, and he stares at the lack of an Almost Cork in shock.

 

"Ssssorry, but you lose. Muahahahaha!"

 

Wyverns gale of maniacal laughter is interrupted as a particularly gleefull shriek from Minta catches his attention, and he turns around in order to see what developments have been occuring in the Meud. As he does so, the overgrown lizard accidentally knocks over all three of the mugs with his tail, revealing that all three of them are empty. Gryphon stares at the mugs in confusion for a moment, then notices a familiar-looking Almost Cork stuck on the lizards stinger, which he carefully plucks off of it. As Wyvern turns back around, Gryphon holds up the Almost Cork and grins:

 

"It seems this was stuck to your tail."

 

Wyvern lifts a claw to his head and lets out a nervous laugh, sighing to himself and directing Gryphon towards a small supply of Almost Dragonic Brand Meud™ as a prize. After he's done so, the lizard turns towards Venefyxatu and snickers.

 

"Up to a game, eh? Well, just be warned that I'm not going easy on you..."

 

Wyverns formal boast is interrupted as a rather distraught, mud-covered Bravery approaches him and exclaims:

 

"Wyvern, listen-"

 

"Would you be quiet?" Wyvern growls. "Can't you see I'm trying to conduct a game here?"

 

Turning back towards Venefyxatu, he switches back to a sinister tone.

 

"Yesss, I won't be going easy on you. In fact, you just might want to surrender right now, to avoid humilia-"

 

"Wyvern, it's important." interrupts Bravery, casting a nervous glance back towards the Meud. "Minta has these pixy sticks, and she's-"

 

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet?" cries Wyvern in a whiney voice, gritting his teeth and throwing his scaly arms in the air. "How am I supposed to build suspense for Venefyxatu when you're constantly interrupting?"

 

"But Wyv, the Meud is-"

 

"If there'sss a problem with the Meud, then fix it. After all, that's what you're here for."

 

Bravery raises a hand to speak, then thinks better of it and shakes his head in a frustrated manner. As the Elder Dwarf departs back towards the Meud, Wyvern turns towards Venefyxatu and continues:

 

"Sssso, Venefixatu... are you up to the challenge?"

 

"That's Venefyxatu" corrects the participant. "And yes, give me your best"

 

Wyvern grins and nods, then places the Almost Cork underneath the middle mug and proceeds to stack the other two mugs face down on top of it. Noticing Venefyxatu's confusion, the lizard hisses:

 

"Thisss game will be a test of sensitivity to see if your finger is worthy of holding the Almost Cork. If your finger can feel the Almost Cork underneath these three layers of mugs, you'll know that you've won."

 

Venefyxatu considers this challenge for a moment, then nods and leans forward to try his luck. The participant pauses, however, as he notices a large figure behind Wyvern that immediately causes him to pale. Wyvern just has time to watch Bravery run off from the area of the booth before turning to see what has caught Venefyxatu's attention, and freezes in horror as he does so. An enormous Almost Dragonic Brand Meud Golem stood there, tiny shards of mana crystals glowing on its bubbling hide, its form surprisingly muscular in its concentrated liquid structure. Looking down at Wyvern, the Golem clenches a muddy fists a gurgles:

 

"Beeeer... Chips."

 

Wyvern opens his mouth to scream...

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Hearing the girliest scream ever, Riven dives from the clouds to check out what had caused it. "When did the pen get a dirt pile there? Ack, that's not a dirt pile? It's a golem?!?" Riven tries to get to a safe height as the first massive mud ball just misses him.

 

"Flllllyyy..."

 

 

Riven is not so lucky when the next giant mud ball is released. Riven comes crashing down to the ground. Thump! At least he landed in the puddle of the booze mud. Minta starts tearing up from laughter seeing the giant mud ball with four limbs and wings.

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Signe strutted through the Carnival daintly. When the path became muddy, one of her accompanying Boy Toys gladly lay his body down for her to cross, that she might not get her stilleto-heeled boots dirty.

 

It was a social occasion, not work or play, so the Succubus didn't carry a cat-o-nine tails or any other tools of the taming trade. Occasionally she flashed a fanged smile through pouty crimson lips, just to stay in practice in stunning males.

Like flowers following the sun, men watched her helplessly as she made her way through the crowd, until her twitching tail disappeared from view in the crowd.

 

Abruptly she stopped. A *large* Golem blocked the path, lifting kegs and crushing them above its mouth.

At its feet, Minta played and stomped, and built palisades. Even in its rampage, the Golem was careful not to disturb the innocently amoral little girl. The mana crystals and sugar coating its hide glittered sparkly in the sunlight, making it look rather pretty. A Dwarven skellie was sitting dejectedly in the large muddy area around the guzzling Golem, looking forlornly at all that lovely liquor going down someone else's throat.

As the Golem turned for another casket of Bruteweiser ™, Signe saw something intriguing. All that alcoholic mana-crystalled Golem was decidedly male...

 

Picking her way around to the far side of the majority of the mud, wings outstretched for balance, she slipped up behind the growing Golem.

 

"Hey Sailor, know where a girl could get a drink in this pig-stye?"

 

The Golem let loose a burbly belch, tossed the empty contain (and a great deal of mud) off to the side, and turned to loom over the diminuative demonette.

 

She suddenly glowed, dazzling, feminitity unbounded and fathomless. Her eyes gave promise of a boozy binge bender without hangovers, her luscious lips lured like the finest liquors.

As the Golem helplessly swayed forward, lower...

 

When her wings opened from in front of her again, the Golem was gone. Wiping a bit of mud from her mouth, burping most ladylike, Signe licked her lips languidly. At the sight of her pink tongue, the Dwarven skellie suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to locate his female skeleton counterpart, and wandered in search of her.

 

With a snap of her fingers, her Boy Toys were in attendence, wiping any mud or dirt that clung to her form with trembling fingertips.

 

Turning, she continued on her way. A little mana buzz never hurt any demonette...

 

That there was more sway to her walk than usual, she was unaware. Imbibing spirits was second nature to her, but usually they weren't 200 proof mana.

 

Written with Signe's permission, 'cause she's busy.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Minta stood on tiptoes, patting a final layer of almost-dry mud onto the bottom of one of the flying mud buttresses that connected her mud fort to Wyvern's booth. She took a pointed anti-cootie gem from her inexhaustible pockets and scratched lizzy-language characters ('cause it was Wyvern's side, an' elf characters had to go on the buttresses that connected to the Peredhil booth) into the finish, then ran to the front of the mud fort to admire it. It was a fort in the medieval sense, a perfect miniature of a defensive castle four feet high (towers soaring to six feet), occupancy: one gnomie. The palisade mud had hardened into Archmage-quality magical barriers, planks from a destroyed barrel bridged the moat beyond, a skellie-bone portcullis waited above the gate, with an unenthusiastic dwarf skellie tethered to its crank, gnomie-size catapults hid behind aiming slits in all four walls, generous piles of mudbombs with extra-liquid centers sat on the ramparts, and the towers held open half-barrels full of pixystix sugar, ready to be spread to soak up excess moisture and retain the fort's integrity. Minta tweaked the features of one of the lower gobbie gargoyles, then marched proudly inside and looked around for an enemy.

 

One mudbomb flew from a catapult, splattering perfectly over Bravery's head, and sending the "The Wyvern is OUT" sign spinning on its pole. Minta cranked the target mechanism downwards, then squinted out of the slit in the castle walls to find Bravery waving one of his socks tied to a stick. It was mud-colored by now but the message was clear. She tied a spare kite tail to a stick and they signaled back and forth for a few minutes before reaching some agreement. The gnomie returned to the target mechanism, then let fly several harder mudballs in quick succession. Each mug was blasted off of the counter, then the final mudball slammed into the latch in the side of the booth, sliding the bolt back. Bravery set his shoulder to the door and shoved, and he was free! Minta hopped down from the rampart, scurried out of the fort, and put 5 gold underneath where each mug had been sitting before racing Bravery to the awesome snowball fight over by the snow maze!

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