Elendor
Grouchy Dwarves
Late night at a bar where some grouchy dwarves are bein grouchy.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Erebor
Description: Ranol works very early in the morning, and by all rights should very much be in bed, but he's too keyed up to go home and chance running into any of his family, extended or otherwise. He would only end up laying awake anyhow.
The huskarl is sitting away by himself, nursing his second ale slowly, not wanting to get drunk. There's a brooding expression on his face.
[Bifur(#6709)] The door clatters open rather loudly, the rather harsh figure of Bifur filling up the entrance. The old dwarf seems to have spent a good deal of time out of the gates of late, a layer of dirt and grime rather obvious on his cloak and boots. Bifur throws his golden-hued cloak on a peg, revealing a hauberk of shiny chain links that covers most of his body. He slaps his hand on the bar impatiently and calls out loudly, "A mug of stout if'n ya please, barkeep." Leaning back on the bar, Bifur surveys the other patrons while he waits.
It's perhaps not Ranol's fault that he missed the fact that he DOES have a relation in here. A woman in blue is hunched over the bar, glaring at a mug, when Bifur suddenly slaps his hand down nearby. Thari jerks in surprise and turns toward the older dwarf. She mutters while looking at the Hero and takes another swig of her mug.
Ranol truly isn't paying much attention to anything. He has a faint scowl on his face and is clearly deep in thought. Though, if a goblin walked in he would happily hack it to pieces.
[Bifur(#6709)] With a glance over at Thari, Bifur smirks, "My apologies. Didn' realize it was past bed time. I shall keep it down outta consideration fer me neighbors." The barkeep hands Bifur his mug as the old dwarf grunts, "Thank ya kindly... though the company ain't always the best, nothin' beats the drinks."
This is enough to draw an incredulous laugh out of Thari. She raises her bushy, bristling brows at Bifur. "I'll be damned if it's my bedtime!" she growls, then throws back her drink in a handful of thick swallows.
Thari has an unmistakable voice.. especially when it's yelling. Ranol lifts his blue eyes to the bar, but does little other than watch for now. He came here to avoid his family at this late hour, after all.
[Bifur(#6709)] The old dwarf seems more than a bit bemused by Thari's words, wiping a bit of foam from his beard after a particularly large gulp, "Ahhhh... I would hope not." Taking a moment between gulps, he leans back and scratches idly behind his head, "Too much idleness makes fer too much comfort. That leads ta slippin' standards and less security."
Thari slams down her tankard, pushing it pointedly toward the barkeep while watching Bifur. "Who said anything about being idle?" she demands of Bifur. "D'ye see these scars? Do you?" She points at her face, where a multitude of faint scars, white patches at her temples and a slightly crooked nose are all present. "D'ye suppose I got these with my 'broidery, man? They were eight times bigger and had a knife at my beard and still I spat in their eye! Idleness, indeed! I'm not wearing a skirt all of the time you know!"
Thari nods sharply and takes her tankard back, now full with golden liquid again.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv eases her way into tavern, working her way slowly toward the bar, coin in hand. Why she would want to be in a tavern run by a Bundazanul at this point is beyond anyone's guess.
Ranol remains sitting off alone, his hand on his mug of ale but he does not lift it again. He's watching the argument with detatched interest, having a difficult time clearing his mind of his own most recent frustration. He doesn't even notice Siv.
[Bifur(#6709)] With a hearty chuckle, Bifur speaks in a gravelly voice, "Akh, ya hear that? Give the lady a medal, eh?" Gesturing with his hand rather grandly, he speaks a bit louder with a distinct edge, "Eight times bigger... mayhap I should bow in the presence of such greatness." With that, the old dwarf bows rather deeply and straightens up dramatically, "I daresay, I don' know what I'd do if'n I found meself in such a predicament." With a shrug, Bifur eyes Thari and speaks in a low, harsh voice, "I expect no less of the children of Durin. So too should all of ye. Sadly that ain't the case no more in these halls that were gained at so dear a price in blood."
"We pay our rent by the same price," Thari says sharply, gesturing at Bifur with her tankard. A bit of beer spills over the rim to splash on her skirt of fine rich red cloth. It is ignored. "I've no mind to go on boasting of how much of my own blood I've shed for such a cause, Lordly Master Dwarf. I'd no sooner insult your own brave deeds!"
As the argument grows more heated Ranol begins to pay closer attention. He groans softly as he hears the exchange of words, pushing to stand. His gaze catches Siv then and now he realizes that all necessary components are in place for potential disaster. Perhaps Advisor Filur will walk in. Then the huskarl would know it's fate.
[Bifur(#6709)] With a mirthless laugh, Bifur eyes Thari intently for several seconds before speaking in a low, almost whispering voice, "The price paid since regaining the mountain is but a small fraction of what it took ta get here. Any dwarf here knows as much. I do not insult the deeds of those who keep the kingdom safe from outside threats. But neither do I celebrate them. There is a great difference 'tween what is expected and what is exceptional. I care not whether my own be celebrated or thought of as ordinary. It matters not. I done what must be done. So to have you. If'n ya cannot see the idleness and sense of security that has prevailed under the mountain in the years since the Battle o' the Five Armies, then ya be blind ta it. Tis plain as day."
[Siv(#24218)] The argument does draw Siv's attention, but only out of curiosity, it might seem. Her first order of business is to gain a seat by the bar--and then to order an ale, which she now sips quietly, foam sticking to her beard as she watches the show.
"And why d'ye berate me instead of one of those who might change things to your satisfaction?" Thari asks Bifur next. "D'ye imagine that I am of the House of Durin? For I'm not! Or are ye saying that the womenfolk of the Khazad should rise up and berate our men for being lazy?" She gives a snorting laugh and takes a long drink of her beer.
Ranol approaches the section of the bar where Thari is arguing with Bifur. He leans against the counter next to his cousin, looking between the two with a speculative expression.
[Bifur(#6709)] The old dwarf takes a long gulp of stout, pausing to wipe the foam from his beard, "Mayhap ya take offense too easily. I care not whether ya be of the House of Durin or not. Parentage has nothin' ta do with ones deeds. Nor do I care whether it be the womenfolk or menfolk bein' lazy. Though it seems ta matter a great deal ta you." Scratching idly at his beard, he grunts, "I offer no insults or berating... only statements of fact. Ya seek special treatment fer the scars ye bear. You'll get none from me. Nor will ya get thanks fer doin' that which all dwarves should do. The fact that most seem content to live their comfortable lives under the mountain don't make it special ta do yer duty."
Thari takes a sharp breath as if to make an angry retort. And then her eyes land on Ranol. She releases her breath, deflating.
A pause ensues before Thari suddenly gives a bright smile to the Huskarl.
[Siv(#24218)] "What in Durin's name are they arguing about?" Siv asks those who are standing near her at the bar--her question posed just as the shouting stops, so that it's sure to carry.
Ranol gives Thari a fleeting smile without much heart behind it. "Good evening." He says politely, bowing to the both of them. Despite his bad mood, he still shows respect to the dwarven hero. Some coins are fished out of his pocket and placed on the bar. Siv is given a scowl as her question reaches his ears. "Haven't you learned enough by now, Siv?" He asks sharply.
[Bifur(#6709)] Seeing Thari's attention turn elsewhere, Bifur shrugs his shoulders slightly and turns back to lean against the bar while he drains the rest of his drink. While getting a refill, he leans over to whisper something to the bartender with a smirk on his face. The bartender offers only a noncommittal shrug in response, giving Bifur his mug of stout.
Siv's voice draws Thari's eye. The glance bounces off of the Zinbar maid to land back on Ranol. "Don't be having an argument with Siv, now," she scolds her cousin.
[Bifur(#6709)] Upon hearing Ranol's greeting, Bifur politely bows slightly, lifts his mug and takes a hearty drink, "Evening indeed..." With the attention of others elsewhere, Bifur seems content to enjoy his stout quietly, for once...
[Siv(#24218)] "Public bar, Ranol," Siv sneers back at that man. She drinks her ale slowly and continues to listen, leaning on one elbow against the bar.
Ranol turns his gaze back to Thari, brows narrowed, "You were just having an argument! In front of her no less!" He retorts, staring at his cousin intently. Then he lowers his voice to a soft rumbling whisper, "Do you think that was wise? Does she need more ammo to fire against you, or any of us?"
"What are you talking about?" Thari leans close and hisses at Ranol. "I wasn't even mentioning her name! What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing." Ranol answers in a short, gruff manner. He glances over at the bar to double-check his payment of his drinks, then looks back at his cousin. "I'm going home. It's late." He mutters, pushing away from the counter and moving to pass Thari and Bifur in the direction of the door.
Thari looks at the ceiling with annoyance, then she looks at her cousin's back. She moves after him-- then comes back to the bar and spends a moment or three draining her cup.
Finally she does walk quickly after Ranol. Thari doesn't pay anything. Presumably Balur has a tab here. "Ranol!" she calls sharply as she goes through the door.
[Bifur(#6709)] Seemingly engrossed in conversation with another dwarf at the bar, Bifur notices the exchange between Ranol and Thari leaving. He shrugs his shoulders and says to no one in particular, "Trouble seems ta follow around these days..."
Ranol stops at the door, not quite out of the bar yet. He turns to look at Thari. "What? .. " He asks, impatient, waiting to hear what his cousin needs, one hand on the door handle.
"What's the matter with you?" Thari hisses. She reaches for the doorhandle to push the door open and let them out.
[Bifur(#6709)] Turning to glance at both Thari and Ranol, Bifur leans against the bar and nudges the dwarf next to him as he takes a sip from his mug, "I guess not all is well under the mountain, eh?"
"Nothing. I'm tired." Ranol answers, obviously lying because he's absolutely terrible at it to the point where he almost never bothers. "Are you heading back to the house as well?" Stepping out into the tunnel beyond now.
"I'm walking you home," Thari says as she steps into the hallway after Ranol. "And I'm making you a hot drink and you're telling me everything." The hot drink, perhaps, is a threat.
Thari pushes the copper door open, perhaps lending yet another ding, and passes through.
Ranol walks a few steps as Thari speaks, then stops and turns again to regard her. "I don't need you to walk me home and I'm not in the mood to talk. Stay. Enjoy yourself." He says in a discontent grumble, then turns and begins walking again.
Thari stops and allows Ranol to go on ahead of her. She sighs. "Fine," she says in a voice that is both firm and bearing an undercurrent of sadness. "Walk me home then. I'm hardly of a mind to stay, now. I'll go home and to my own rooms."
Ranol almost tells her to walk herself home, but catches himself as his sensibilities catch up to his rotten mood. He grunts and nods sharply, waiting for her to catch up before he begins walking again in silence. There's a scowl on his face, but it isn't directed at her. He seems very absorbed in his own thoughts.
Thari stays there and puts her fists on her hips. "And you needn't be so RUDE, Ranol!" she calls after him. "I was only trying to be NICE to you!" She then turns around and stomps off in the direction of the Blacksmith's shop, which is surely where she meant to go.
"By demanding that I talk about something I don't wish to share?!" The huskarl argues back, throwing the words at her quickly, before considering how they might sound after his usual fashion. "Are you going home or not?" He asks in a hard tone, still waiting.
"No!" Thari calls over her shoulder. "Go on home! You wish to be left alone!" She opens the door to the blacksmith shop (which is dark, it appears, save for a banked fire) and passes within. "Goodnight!" A last word is tossed out.
Ranol stares at Thari, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. She is the last person that he wishes to speak with, not because he doesn't trust his cousin, or appreciate what she has to say.. but in this case he knows what she will say. Thari will either tell him to do as he pleases and drag Hildis off as she intended with Frarin, or she'll find some way to sneak around and throw money at the problem. Even if his guess is wrong, there's no way that Balur's daughter can possibly relate to how he feels right now.
What really scares Ranol is that he is feeling a sudden spike of spiteful jealousy. For the first time he can relate to some of the irrational bitterness that corrupted his father. Ranol loves Thari, but she'll never know the rejection over finances that's darkening his mood. Money does matter and the huskarl has never felt it so keenly before.
He watches where the woman disappeared, not moving while this litany plays through his head. Finally, Ranol turns and walks away. There's nothing he can say in his present mood that will help this situation.
The huskarl is sitting away by himself, nursing his second ale slowly, not wanting to get drunk. There's a brooding expression on his face.
[Bifur(#6709)] The door clatters open rather loudly, the rather harsh figure of Bifur filling up the entrance. The old dwarf seems to have spent a good deal of time out of the gates of late, a layer of dirt and grime rather obvious on his cloak and boots. Bifur throws his golden-hued cloak on a peg, revealing a hauberk of shiny chain links that covers most of his body. He slaps his hand on the bar impatiently and calls out loudly, "A mug of stout if'n ya please, barkeep." Leaning back on the bar, Bifur surveys the other patrons while he waits.
It's perhaps not Ranol's fault that he missed the fact that he DOES have a relation in here. A woman in blue is hunched over the bar, glaring at a mug, when Bifur suddenly slaps his hand down nearby. Thari jerks in surprise and turns toward the older dwarf. She mutters while looking at the Hero and takes another swig of her mug.
Ranol truly isn't paying much attention to anything. He has a faint scowl on his face and is clearly deep in thought. Though, if a goblin walked in he would happily hack it to pieces.
[Bifur(#6709)] With a glance over at Thari, Bifur smirks, "My apologies. Didn' realize it was past bed time. I shall keep it down outta consideration fer me neighbors." The barkeep hands Bifur his mug as the old dwarf grunts, "Thank ya kindly... though the company ain't always the best, nothin' beats the drinks."
This is enough to draw an incredulous laugh out of Thari. She raises her bushy, bristling brows at Bifur. "I'll be damned if it's my bedtime!" she growls, then throws back her drink in a handful of thick swallows.
Thari has an unmistakable voice.. especially when it's yelling. Ranol lifts his blue eyes to the bar, but does little other than watch for now. He came here to avoid his family at this late hour, after all.
[Bifur(#6709)] The old dwarf seems more than a bit bemused by Thari's words, wiping a bit of foam from his beard after a particularly large gulp, "Ahhhh... I would hope not." Taking a moment between gulps, he leans back and scratches idly behind his head, "Too much idleness makes fer too much comfort. That leads ta slippin' standards and less security."
Thari slams down her tankard, pushing it pointedly toward the barkeep while watching Bifur. "Who said anything about being idle?" she demands of Bifur. "D'ye see these scars? Do you?" She points at her face, where a multitude of faint scars, white patches at her temples and a slightly crooked nose are all present. "D'ye suppose I got these with my 'broidery, man? They were eight times bigger and had a knife at my beard and still I spat in their eye! Idleness, indeed! I'm not wearing a skirt all of the time you know!"
Thari nods sharply and takes her tankard back, now full with golden liquid again.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv eases her way into tavern, working her way slowly toward the bar, coin in hand. Why she would want to be in a tavern run by a Bundazanul at this point is beyond anyone's guess.
Ranol remains sitting off alone, his hand on his mug of ale but he does not lift it again. He's watching the argument with detatched interest, having a difficult time clearing his mind of his own most recent frustration. He doesn't even notice Siv.
[Bifur(#6709)] With a hearty chuckle, Bifur speaks in a gravelly voice, "Akh, ya hear that? Give the lady a medal, eh?" Gesturing with his hand rather grandly, he speaks a bit louder with a distinct edge, "Eight times bigger... mayhap I should bow in the presence of such greatness." With that, the old dwarf bows rather deeply and straightens up dramatically, "I daresay, I don' know what I'd do if'n I found meself in such a predicament." With a shrug, Bifur eyes Thari and speaks in a low, harsh voice, "I expect no less of the children of Durin. So too should all of ye. Sadly that ain't the case no more in these halls that were gained at so dear a price in blood."
"We pay our rent by the same price," Thari says sharply, gesturing at Bifur with her tankard. A bit of beer spills over the rim to splash on her skirt of fine rich red cloth. It is ignored. "I've no mind to go on boasting of how much of my own blood I've shed for such a cause, Lordly Master Dwarf. I'd no sooner insult your own brave deeds!"
As the argument grows more heated Ranol begins to pay closer attention. He groans softly as he hears the exchange of words, pushing to stand. His gaze catches Siv then and now he realizes that all necessary components are in place for potential disaster. Perhaps Advisor Filur will walk in. Then the huskarl would know it's fate.
[Bifur(#6709)] With a mirthless laugh, Bifur eyes Thari intently for several seconds before speaking in a low, almost whispering voice, "The price paid since regaining the mountain is but a small fraction of what it took ta get here. Any dwarf here knows as much. I do not insult the deeds of those who keep the kingdom safe from outside threats. But neither do I celebrate them. There is a great difference 'tween what is expected and what is exceptional. I care not whether my own be celebrated or thought of as ordinary. It matters not. I done what must be done. So to have you. If'n ya cannot see the idleness and sense of security that has prevailed under the mountain in the years since the Battle o' the Five Armies, then ya be blind ta it. Tis plain as day."
[Siv(#24218)] The argument does draw Siv's attention, but only out of curiosity, it might seem. Her first order of business is to gain a seat by the bar--and then to order an ale, which she now sips quietly, foam sticking to her beard as she watches the show.
"And why d'ye berate me instead of one of those who might change things to your satisfaction?" Thari asks Bifur next. "D'ye imagine that I am of the House of Durin? For I'm not! Or are ye saying that the womenfolk of the Khazad should rise up and berate our men for being lazy?" She gives a snorting laugh and takes a long drink of her beer.
Ranol approaches the section of the bar where Thari is arguing with Bifur. He leans against the counter next to his cousin, looking between the two with a speculative expression.
[Bifur(#6709)] The old dwarf takes a long gulp of stout, pausing to wipe the foam from his beard, "Mayhap ya take offense too easily. I care not whether ya be of the House of Durin or not. Parentage has nothin' ta do with ones deeds. Nor do I care whether it be the womenfolk or menfolk bein' lazy. Though it seems ta matter a great deal ta you." Scratching idly at his beard, he grunts, "I offer no insults or berating... only statements of fact. Ya seek special treatment fer the scars ye bear. You'll get none from me. Nor will ya get thanks fer doin' that which all dwarves should do. The fact that most seem content to live their comfortable lives under the mountain don't make it special ta do yer duty."
Thari takes a sharp breath as if to make an angry retort. And then her eyes land on Ranol. She releases her breath, deflating.
A pause ensues before Thari suddenly gives a bright smile to the Huskarl.
[Siv(#24218)] "What in Durin's name are they arguing about?" Siv asks those who are standing near her at the bar--her question posed just as the shouting stops, so that it's sure to carry.
Ranol gives Thari a fleeting smile without much heart behind it. "Good evening." He says politely, bowing to the both of them. Despite his bad mood, he still shows respect to the dwarven hero. Some coins are fished out of his pocket and placed on the bar. Siv is given a scowl as her question reaches his ears. "Haven't you learned enough by now, Siv?" He asks sharply.
[Bifur(#6709)] Seeing Thari's attention turn elsewhere, Bifur shrugs his shoulders slightly and turns back to lean against the bar while he drains the rest of his drink. While getting a refill, he leans over to whisper something to the bartender with a smirk on his face. The bartender offers only a noncommittal shrug in response, giving Bifur his mug of stout.
Siv's voice draws Thari's eye. The glance bounces off of the Zinbar maid to land back on Ranol. "Don't be having an argument with Siv, now," she scolds her cousin.
[Bifur(#6709)] Upon hearing Ranol's greeting, Bifur politely bows slightly, lifts his mug and takes a hearty drink, "Evening indeed..." With the attention of others elsewhere, Bifur seems content to enjoy his stout quietly, for once...
[Siv(#24218)] "Public bar, Ranol," Siv sneers back at that man. She drinks her ale slowly and continues to listen, leaning on one elbow against the bar.
Ranol turns his gaze back to Thari, brows narrowed, "You were just having an argument! In front of her no less!" He retorts, staring at his cousin intently. Then he lowers his voice to a soft rumbling whisper, "Do you think that was wise? Does she need more ammo to fire against you, or any of us?"
"What are you talking about?" Thari leans close and hisses at Ranol. "I wasn't even mentioning her name! What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing." Ranol answers in a short, gruff manner. He glances over at the bar to double-check his payment of his drinks, then looks back at his cousin. "I'm going home. It's late." He mutters, pushing away from the counter and moving to pass Thari and Bifur in the direction of the door.
Thari looks at the ceiling with annoyance, then she looks at her cousin's back. She moves after him-- then comes back to the bar and spends a moment or three draining her cup.
Finally she does walk quickly after Ranol. Thari doesn't pay anything. Presumably Balur has a tab here. "Ranol!" she calls sharply as she goes through the door.
[Bifur(#6709)] Seemingly engrossed in conversation with another dwarf at the bar, Bifur notices the exchange between Ranol and Thari leaving. He shrugs his shoulders and says to no one in particular, "Trouble seems ta follow around these days..."
Ranol stops at the door, not quite out of the bar yet. He turns to look at Thari. "What? .. " He asks, impatient, waiting to hear what his cousin needs, one hand on the door handle.
"What's the matter with you?" Thari hisses. She reaches for the doorhandle to push the door open and let them out.
[Bifur(#6709)] Turning to glance at both Thari and Ranol, Bifur leans against the bar and nudges the dwarf next to him as he takes a sip from his mug, "I guess not all is well under the mountain, eh?"
"Nothing. I'm tired." Ranol answers, obviously lying because he's absolutely terrible at it to the point where he almost never bothers. "Are you heading back to the house as well?" Stepping out into the tunnel beyond now.
"I'm walking you home," Thari says as she steps into the hallway after Ranol. "And I'm making you a hot drink and you're telling me everything." The hot drink, perhaps, is a threat.
Thari pushes the copper door open, perhaps lending yet another ding, and passes through.
Ranol walks a few steps as Thari speaks, then stops and turns again to regard her. "I don't need you to walk me home and I'm not in the mood to talk. Stay. Enjoy yourself." He says in a discontent grumble, then turns and begins walking again.
Thari stops and allows Ranol to go on ahead of her. She sighs. "Fine," she says in a voice that is both firm and bearing an undercurrent of sadness. "Walk me home then. I'm hardly of a mind to stay, now. I'll go home and to my own rooms."
Ranol almost tells her to walk herself home, but catches himself as his sensibilities catch up to his rotten mood. He grunts and nods sharply, waiting for her to catch up before he begins walking again in silence. There's a scowl on his face, but it isn't directed at her. He seems very absorbed in his own thoughts.
Thari stays there and puts her fists on her hips. "And you needn't be so RUDE, Ranol!" she calls after him. "I was only trying to be NICE to you!" She then turns around and stomps off in the direction of the Blacksmith's shop, which is surely where she meant to go.
"By demanding that I talk about something I don't wish to share?!" The huskarl argues back, throwing the words at her quickly, before considering how they might sound after his usual fashion. "Are you going home or not?" He asks in a hard tone, still waiting.
"No!" Thari calls over her shoulder. "Go on home! You wish to be left alone!" She opens the door to the blacksmith shop (which is dark, it appears, save for a banked fire) and passes within. "Goodnight!" A last word is tossed out.
Ranol stares at Thari, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. She is the last person that he wishes to speak with, not because he doesn't trust his cousin, or appreciate what she has to say.. but in this case he knows what she will say. Thari will either tell him to do as he pleases and drag Hildis off as she intended with Frarin, or she'll find some way to sneak around and throw money at the problem. Even if his guess is wrong, there's no way that Balur's daughter can possibly relate to how he feels right now.
What really scares Ranol is that he is feeling a sudden spike of spiteful jealousy. For the first time he can relate to some of the irrational bitterness that corrupted his father. Ranol loves Thari, but she'll never know the rejection over finances that's darkening his mood. Money does matter and the huskarl has never felt it so keenly before.
He watches where the woman disappeared, not moving while this litany plays through his head. Finally, Ranol turns and walks away. There's nothing he can say in his present mood that will help this situation.
Players: Ranol, Thari, Bifur, Siv
Located in: Erebor
