Elendor
Dwarven Drinking Night
The dwarves in Erebor do what dwarves do best.. get drunk.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Erebor
Description: It's late in the evening, the dinner crowd long since gone and most of the social drinkers home as well. Those left are the careerist drunks, a few private conversations, and some dwarves playing dice off in a corner. Also here is the huskarl of Bundazanul. Ranol is sitting alone and sipping at an ale. He's not geared up or in uniform, so he must be off duty.
[Odor(#10430)] Now, drinking careers are numerous...especially amongst dwarves who hold the brewing of ales close to their hearts, and the drinking of them closer still. But there are in any field those who rise above the norm. Those for whom drinking is not merely nine to five. Nor even nine to five with a little paid overtime. Some arrive when everyone else thinks about going home. Thus the broad gait and heavy footfalls of Odor make themselves known in the doorway the warder evidently having just come off of duty as he is just un-uniformed enough that he can't get into trouble for drinking. Large hands rub gleefully together as a huge smile spreads across his lips. "A flagon of the best!" he cries across the room, starting briskly for the bar and adding. "With a side of beef and mustard that'd choke a wide necked animal." his rubbing hands splitting apart to animate the animal in question. Its neck is indeed, very wide."
Ranol glances up at the loud voice, and a smile grows on his face as he recognizes the warder and hears his antics. The huskarl lowers his mug and watches curiously for a moment, offering a nod in greeting if Odor looks his way. He hasn't seen the warrior since they returned to the mountain, and speaks up when he's sure his voice will be heard, "Care to join me, Odor?"
[Odor(#10430)] A deep rumbling cackle rolls out of Odor's mouth as he continues to approach the bar, lips smacking noisily as his eyes gleam with anticipatory glee. Ranol's address draws him from this trance-like state for a moment, and the young dwarf turns to face the sound. "Ranol!" he cries without appreciation for the other Khazad's considerably greater social rank. Perhaps that is why he is personable. "Make that 'two' flagons...and a little extra beef." he instructs across the bar, before long bounding strides bring him to the huskarl's table. "I'd be delighted. And this time...there be no damn trees to spoil it."
Ranol chuckles, and doesn't seem to even notice any lack of formalities. He's grinning as Odor joins him, nodding in agreement. "No trees or Beornings, that's for certain. How have you been, cousin?" The huskarl seems much the same, though despite his smile there are hints of stress around his blue eyes. Otherwise, the only differences are some new clothes and a generally cleaner appearance, now that the dirt of the road isn't plaguing him every day.
[Odor(#10430)] The same cackling laughter rises out again as Ranol mentions the Beornings, Odor reaching for a chair and drawing it close to the huskarl's table, dropping into it with a heavy weight and seems glad to finally be off its feet. "I'll have the kitchen change me order to rabbit stew..." he remarks with an unusual degree of awareness, for Odor. "Ah've been well. After I lost me axe I was a sorry sight. Bloody orc will pay for the insult. If it takes me a lifetime, and my sons their lifetimes...and their sons their lifetimes not a single one of its foul offspring will escape." he grins at this. "But I have a 'fine' new hammer."
Ranol laughs again, shaking his head. "You're lucky Mobeorn didn't grow more upset. We might have had to battle those orcs alone." The huskarl has a quieter manner, not loud or bawdy as so many dwarves are. "I do miss the excitement of the battles, but it's nice to be home again without worry of friends getting hurt. I commissioned some new armor, myself. My leather was a sorry sight."
[Odor(#10430)] "Bah!" Odor dismisses this possibility with a wave of his hand and an enduring of his beaming grin. "Ah'll show that overgrown tree hugger who can hold their liquor when we cross mugs!" This dwarf is quite the opposite of Ranol's manner for he defines and exceeds the definition of loud and bawdy. "Then we'll see who tosses who..." a conspiratorial laughter rising from low chuckles into heartier sounds. "Aye, armour eh? Nice heavy chain?"
"I have no doubt of who would win -that- contest." Ranol answers, grinning. "If you ever meet with him, you'll have to tell me how the competition goes." The huskarl leans back, smiling more easily as Odor's good mood rubs off on him, pushing away some of his troubling thoughts. "Aye, chainmail. Cost a bit, but hopefully it will hold up better than the leather did. Thane Ovor did expert repairs, but orc scimitars had little trouble cutting through it.
[Odor(#10430)] Keeping Odor long seperated from alcohol is a dangerous business, in a similar vein with wrestling trolls, and this is well known in this tavern. The drinks are forthcoming two large flagons brought straight up from the cellar one under each of the barman's harms along with Odor's very own mug, so known as it bears his name etched along its side, and all three objects set upon the table. "Food's just coming." intones the server, before moving off. The stout Barazin nodding appreciatively, he wipes away the wax seal about the cork and begins to pour his drink with greedy eyes. "Oooh, ah'll be seeing his hide again. A year and a day is the arrangement. If he does not come, or invite me it'll be a matter of honour. And then I shall go to him!" the large dwarf cackles again quite loudly at this, before bringing the mug to his lips and gulping thirstly at the heavy draught.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv makes her way through the bar, weaving this way and that between the tables, looking here and there as if looking for someone. Spotting Ranol, she brightens noticeably and heads that way to come up to the table where the two dwarves sit. "Honor? Oh, and good evening."
"I don't know that he would travel here, but if he does I shall most certainly be there to see it. Did you find things well upon your return home?" He lifts his mug and finishes the last of his drink, then holds it absently, relaxed. That is, until Siv's voice joins them. He looks over at the Zinbar and sits up straighter again, habit more than anything. "Good evening, Siv. Please, join us." Because how could he -not- invite her? That would be rude.
[Odor(#10430)] Loud gulps sound from some manner of hybrid between dwarf and tankard. A pewter mug replacing Odor's face and appearing to sport its very own red beard. Its only when a final slurp empties the vessel that he slams it down upon the table and wipes away the foamy residue with the back of his hand that he looks up to Siv. "Hello lassie..." he greets her with warm eyes and a beaming smile, and a little more softness in his voice than was present a moment ago. Looking back then to Ranol. "Either way." he remarks gleefully, as the flagon before him, as opposed to the unopened one in front of Ranol is uncorked once more and the beer flows forth as Odor gets a refill.
[Siv(#24218)] "Ah, Ranol, I didn't expect that you'd be here so late at night," Siv says, sounding disappointed. "BUt they told me you were here, so...." She smiles a little at Odor. "Evening. And how are you?"
Either the huskarl hasn't realized the flagon was ordered for him, or he's not presumptious enough to assume as much. It sits untouched for the moment. Siv expertly pulls his attention, and Ranol lifts a confused brow as he picks up on her disappointment. "Would you prefer I leave?" He asks with a faint smirk, making no move to do so. Though, it's possible that he might were she to ask directly, given his nature.
[Thari(#31038)]
The copper doors open, and another lass opens. Thari's hair around her temples is a bit muzzy as if she has been trying to sleep and didn't comb it properly upon awaking. She walks toward the bar, squinting, but her expression lightens after her squint is directed toward the table with Ranol, Odor and Siv. Toward there she turns instead.
[Odor(#10430)] Looking back up from the important business of filling his mug, Odor smiles again toward the dwarf woman. "Ah'm well. Ah've beer and a pipe, and my supper is soon to come." though the joke of Ranol apparently flies over his head. "Leave? No! I won't allow it! Ye owe me a drink fer one cousin..." his free hand extends a single finger which wags in Ranol's direction. "An there be beef coming that i'll not eat alone." His train of thought is lost as beer begins to overflow the tankard, and Odor scrambles to jab the cork back into place before too much precious amber nectar is lost over his hand.
Ranol holds out his empty mug for Odor to fill, since a drink is demanded. "Fair enough, cousin, though I do not know why I owe a drink." He doesn't remember any such arrangements, but he's in no rush to return home. He hasn't noticed Thari yet, and looks back to Siv, still waiting for a response.
[Siv(#24218)] "Well..." Siv considers that. "Yes, in fact. You shouldn't be out drinking so late," she replies, hands on her hips. "It's unseemly, being out so late drowning your troubles in ale. And it's bad for your business, as well. People will say you're a drinker and unreliable." She doesn't mention Ranor, but the implications are there. Siv, does, though, glance to Odor, one brow raised in disapproval at that dwarf. And then Thari, of all people, walks in, and Siv frowns toward her.
[Odor(#10430)] Setting his own mug aside with an ill-disguised sigh of forlorn desire, and hungry eyes upon it, Odor takes the empty one from Ranol's hand and proceeds to pour. "For breakfast, laddie. Not that ah meant to hold yeh too it..." he looks up with a grunt of non-comprehension as Siv speaks and either unappreciative of her disapproval, or blithely uncaring, he looks back to Ranol. "Troubles, what troubles?" passing the newly frothing beer to the other dwarf.
[Thari(#31038)]
Siv's frown is returned by a nasty scowl from Thari, who is standing behind Ranol with her hands on her hips now. "What call do you have talking to my cousin like that?" she demands. "You apologize to him right now!"
"Bad for my business, Siv? I'm a guard. I don't have any business.." Ranol smiles to soften the words, and gestures towards the chair again. "Sit, join us. We're just enjoying a some good mead." The huskarl doesn't seem overly phased by Siv's attitude, and notices Thari finally, smiling more broadly. "Thari!" His words are cheered, but the look he turns to Odor is one of wariness. "It's nothing, cousin. No troubles." Ranol is a terrible liar, but if he's going so far as to try it, it likely means he doesn't want to talk about it. Oooh, and now Thari is yelling at Siv. He grimaces and interjects, "Both of you, sit.. have a drink.. Please." He speaks in a soft, placating manner.
[<#24218>] Predictably, Siv does not sit. She looks to Thari, moving closer to her, but not with aggression--she seems confused instead, and lowers her voice, gesturing toward Ranol as she speaks. "...--you ... said that I ... ... ... ... between ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .... But............ is ... ... drinking ... ... ... ... hour. ... ... let -Frarin- ... ...? ... ... ... ... ... what ... ... ... ...? and ... ... ... ... ... ... ... drinking ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...? ..., ... all a ... woman ... do for ... ...! ... ... duty, ... fact! ... ... needs ... ... ... from ..., ... ... willing ... step ... to the ... ... ... ... ... .... ... ... ... ... ... this, being ... dwarven ...! ... ... ... ... and ... ... ...!"
[Formin(#31050)] "Oh gracious yes, after that mess, I should think so!" A muffled voice comes from the battered copper door leading out onto Trader's Way, an easy and laid-back voice amidst the chuckles of a few others. The door is pushed open and a dwarf in black with a beard nearly to his knees enters. "Fear not, lads," Formin is chuckling with a few bleary-eyed comrades. "Only one for me tonight! There you go, I'll see you two in the morning then."
The other two, apparently young apparentices, wave and disappear, but Formin comes to the bar. As yet he doesn't appear very interested in the other patrons, for he is quick to make small talk with the barman. "Evening, evening, Hnikar my lad! Just one shot tonight if you please, dreadful long day. Say, how's that young lad of yours been, mm? You know, I saw him just the other day, never seems to pause a minute, does he?" And so the small-talk continues, mostly with Formin speaking.
[Odor(#10430)] "Baaah..." Odor's hand waving above his head as this might clear soem darkening clouds as he grumbles under his breath, though this is itself not startlingly quiet, and he drowns out whatever else he might have to say as the women begin to square off in gulps of nice warm beer. Its as food arrives, a great platter easily the size of the the server's chest with a chunk of beef the size of his head and a nice large bowl of grain-mustard by its side, that Odor brightens properly and seizes the large knife buried in the hefty cut of meat, eagerly sawing off a thick slice and slathering it with the condiment. Unfortunately the whispering slowly filters through his mind. "Union?" he asks. "Eh? Who's union? Yours?" Looking up to Ranol with curious eyes.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari remains standing somewhere behind Ranol, hands on her hips, glowering at Siv. "The difference," she says in a very low voice, but not whispering, "Is that Frarin /is/, in fact, my man. And that Ranol here has no habit of drunkenness at all." But whatever Siv has said does seem to have an effect on Thari, for she does not stand as firmly, nor is her voice as strong. One might almost say she is behaving as if slightly uncertain.
Ranol reaches for his refilled mug, taking a long drink as Siv moves to begin whispering with Thari. He hears snatches about Frarin and duty, but it's Odor's words that cause the huskarl to choke on his beer. He sets the mug down, coughing as his eyes tear up, fiercely shaking his head in answer. "No.. No!" He gasps, still coughing. He looks back at the two women, "Honestly, I don't even have work in the morning so you both can relax." He finally clears his lungs and adds in a grumbled, "I know, a day off from Thane Braldor, hard to believe." His tone is sarcastic, but in jest, a smile returning to his face.
[<#24218>] But Siv shakes her head, her voice still low, her words intense. "... ... -...- ... ..., Thari. Frarin ... ... ... ...--so ..., ... ..., that ... ... .... ......Ranol ... ... a ... .... But ... ......... father like ..., ... ..., and ... needs ... ... ... ... ... .... ... ......... ..., ..., ... ... ... night ... ... ... ... antoher ... ...? ... then not ... ... ..., ... ... ......... then ... ... be ... ... ... father! Can ... ...? And ... would ... ... ... ... ... ... ... guide ... ... way ... ... ... .... ... ... never ... ... ..., Thari!" She turns as Ranol speaks, smiling sweetly at him. 'Well, I suppose that if you have the day off tomorrow, then staying up late is acceptable. In this circumstance.'
[Odor(#10430)] The choking on beer draws a rauchous laughter from Odor, who pauses long enough in the shuttling of beef to mouth to enjoy this. Anyone who knows Odor might well find this unprecedented. Though it doesn't last long, as he stuffs the meat in and chews with great gusto and obvious delight. Washing it down with a mouthful of his own drink as the females whisper conspiratorially his own expression grows a little unimpressed. "Are ye his mother, woman?" the broad warder asks of Siv. "If he wants to stay up and drink he can stay up and drink! He's a dwarf for Mahal's sake! Not some thin-skinned light-headed manling!"
[Formin(#31050)] The barkeep thunks a shot glass of amber liquid down before Formin and the old silversmith pulls it towards him, but he continues speaking. "And do you know, I thought that was just fine, but by the Maker, I certainly didn't think it would take the whole flippin' day, would you believe it! Aye, all day, I tell you, why do you think I'm here so late. By Durin, I suppose I would have started earlier had I known the better. Alas."
He fingers the glass, but something in the conversation behind him brings his gaze around and he glances briefly at the assembled little group. Nothing does he say for the time, however, for he downs the spirits and turns back as the barkeep attempts to get in a word of his own.
[<#31038>]
"Ranol ... ... ... his ...," Thari hisses, closer to Siv now, "... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... direction ... .... ... ... ... ... ... ... a ...!"
Thari breaks off to grin at Odor and claps a hand on Ranol's shoulder.
Ranol isn't sure exactly what war is being fought here, but he can feel the subtle shift in his favor. Of course, Odor's words also bring a small cringe, because he has his doubts that they will be well-received. The warder has a good point, though, and the huskarl lifts his mug for another drink. He's not even drunk yet. "Odor has a point, I have to uphold the dwarven traditions, do I not? It's my duty. What kind of huskarl would I be if I wasn't prepared to drink any of the clan-karls under the table should the situation come up?" He wasn't even aiming to get hammered tonight, but now the challenge is there and Ranol has a wierd sense of excitement at times. And with that he tips back his mug to empty it, and slams it down on the table for Odor to refill.
[<#24218>] "... ... so ... of that?" Siv asks as Ranol slams his mug down on the table. "... ... ... of ... and ... Ranor ... ...? ... ... in ... ... ... ... ... ...? ... ... ..., ... ... my eyes ... ... ... judge, not ... based ... ... ... .... No ... ... ... I ... ... dwarf." At that, Siv steps away from Thari and turns to look at Ranol, sadness and disappointment filling her eyes. 'I will leave you to your libations, Ranol. I bid you good night.' Odor gets a sort of half-grunted leave taking, and Thari a nod as Siv makes her way back out, head held high.
[Odor(#10430)] Having made his point, Odor doesn't make any effort at all to regard Siv's grunt or her whispering, instead he contents himself with the quick draining of his own mug the third since he'd arrived just a few minutes ago. Odor slams it back down to the table beside Ranol's, the beer once more flows free and fast. "First one to fall unconscious pays the bill..." he grins widely, the boisterous cackle returning along with the throwing down of the gauntlet.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari just gives Siv a beady-eyed glare as the other lady departs. "I swear!" she snaps, "The next time I see that girl she is going to get the back of my hand!" She noisily pulls up a chair and slams a hand down on the table. "Pour me one, too! Something strong!"
Ranol had been willing to give Siv the benefit of the doubt, but what he overhears this time leaves his suspicions dead on. His expression grows hard as he watches her leave, knowing now that she was talking of his father and likely making unwelcome comparisons. He sits quietly with a frown on his face, then seems to dismiss it as Odor provides fresh distraction. He goes to fetch a third mug for Thari, and then happily engages in the drinking challenge.
As it happens, Odor quickly outpaces them as Ranol is constantly turning his thoughts back to Siv, and it's not until the warder has grown tipsy at the table that the huskarl finally seems to be showing the effects of the drink. He's smiling more easily and looking happier than he has in a while. "I'm glad I'm going to win.. I don't think I have enough to pay for all this beer.." He comments, his usually discretion severely hampered by his own inebriated state.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari has finished her first mug by the time Ranol says this, and slams it down on the table rather harder than is necessary for it to be refilled. "Ranol," she says in a dark tone. "If you have one thing to do with that girl I'll give you a ding about the head too. She says she loves you!"
"Siv..? I don't think so. Well.. maybe. She gets upset by the things I do, that's for certain. I told her I have no plans to marry anytime soon.. She'll be waiting a while." Ranol shrugs, growing less and less concerned about politeness as the evening wears on. "I heard her mention my father. That's none of her business and I'm going to talk to her about that."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Good!" says Thari with another emphatic fist on the table. She doesn't drink as quickly as Odor , though she is halfway into her next mug. "Talking about that as if she were family! I'm glad you're going to have it out with her. And she went on about Frarin's drinking, too!" she adds indignantly.
[Formin(#31050)] "Frarin's drinking! Aye, well, there's a thing. Bless me, but Frarin does enjoy a pint or two, do you know!" Suddenly Formin is joining Thari and Ranol and Odor, pulling up a chair and sitting backwards on it so as to prop his elbow up on the back rung of it. Having abruptly left the bar after Siv's departure, he is now beaming at Thari and Ranol as if entirely unaware of his interrupting anything.
"Well.. I'm not going to scream at her or anything." Ranol responds, frowning at the fire of Thari's words. "But I'm going to ask her not to bring it up anymore." He takes a long sip of his own drink. "Oh.. Thank you for setting up that meeting with your father. I put in a good word, as I said I would." He grins, "He seemed to appreci.. ate.. " The huskarl trails off as Formin cuts into the conversation. "Hello, good sir. You are a friend of Frarin? I consider him to be a friend of mine, and a friend of a friend is a friend." Oh yes, Ranol is definitely drunk now. He's never so chatty, or.. silly.
[Thari(#31038)]
"And she said she is jealous of me with Frarin!" Thari immediately turns to Formin as if he had been there all along, pointing vaguely in the direction where Siv exited. "Now why would she say such a thing if she didn't have intentions toward my hus-- my-- my, my," she sighs and takes a long drink. "Oh dear."
She shakes her head quickly and looks at Ranol. "He-- my father? He did rather seem more cheerful. That was you?"
[Formin(#31050)] "Oh, now I don't know about that," Formin says shaking his head and frowning with exagerration, but he is soon beaming again. "After your husband-to-be or simply a bossy know-it-all, ask yourself that then!" The old silversmith seems even blunter than his critical cousin, but Formin at least is grinning about it. "Friend indeed, friend indeed," he abruptly nods at Ranol. "Or at the least I should hope so, for otherwise that terrible fellow has been play-acting for a good many years, let me tell you. Formin son of Forlin at your service, sir! First cousin of that old curmudgeon you call Frarin."
Ranol grins broadly, not even noticing Thari's slip up. Or he's quite the actor himself. "Was he? That's good. Very good. I told him about some things he didn't know, and maybe he'll finally come around." The huskarl finishes off his mug.. his fourth? Fifth? And Odor seems to have succumbed, head on the table and unresponsive.
"Well met, Formin son of Forlin. I am Ranol son of Ranor, first cousin to the lovely and intelligent Thari here." He lifts his brows at Thari, still grinning, then reaches to refill his beer and hers as well should it need it. "Were it not for her and Frarin's love for one another, I might never have gotten to know him at all, and I would be with one less good friend in this world."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's round nose has gone pink. She listens to Formin while nursing her drink. "Either way," she says low. "If she gets near him they're both hearing about it."
Ranol's compliments quite lift Thari's dark glower. She grins at him as she sets her mug out to be refilled again and reaches over to ruffle his cropped hair with apparently no thought about what it might do to him in his inebriated state of mind. "Isn't he a good cousin, our Ranol? A dear friend, too!"
[Formin(#31050)] Formin laughs at the antics of the two inebriated cousins, rapping the tabletop with his knuckles as he chuckles. "Well met, well met, Ranol son of Ranor. The lovely and intelligent Thari I have already had the pleasure of meeting, but Frarin has made no light mention of you as well, it is my pleasure to meet you!"
He smirks a half-smile at Thari's continued grumbling about Siv, but shakes his head and sits back, crossing his arms. "Well then, what brings you two to the tavern so late this night? Other than a clear desire to drink your sorrows away, that is! Though I suspect Master Ranol here might be enjoying himself in mere spite of that lovely lady just departed!"
"Oooh.. leave Siv alone. I'll speak with her." Ranol says, seeming to have heard Thari's words. "She means well." There's a bit of a flush to his face, and perhaps his gaze isn't as sharp as it normally is. When she ruffles his hair, as she often does, he reaches a hand to the table to steady himself, delayed in responding to Formin's question until the room settles again. "I'm here because I wanted some time alone. See where that got me?" He grins, in a good enough mood now. "Not that I mind good company. Not at all."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm here because someone's been reading my mail," Thari says in a sulky tone of voice, looking into her tankard with a very gloomy expression. "It's not enough that he's away and I must miss him terribly, but somebody's going through everything he says to me before I'm allowed to read it."
[Formin(#31050)] That brings a halt to Formin's beaming. First his grin pauses, then slowly begins to fade. He looks thoughtful, though there is still quiet smile on his face as he regards Thari. Then, after a few blinks and a few breaths, he leans back and his lips part in thought for a moment. "Frarin's letters?" he says at last, still gently smiling.
Ranol looks over as well, though it's a slow movement. He's looking a bit troubled with keeping his gaze steady on Thari. "Your mail? They're reading the letters Frarin sends? That's.. rude." The huskarl states rather bluntly, at least for him. "Have Frarin send them to me and I can give them to you.. I won't read them." As if he would even need to say as much.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari nods miserably and props her elbows on the table, her face in her hands for a moment. "Someone's even reading the letter he sent to Papa," she says, muffled voice. "And it's still another month until he returns!"
[Formin(#31050)] "Hmm," Formin muses, running a hand through his beard as he leans back. "The one he sent to your father? Well now, what does your father think of that? Well well, twasn't bad wax after all. Still, Frarin said your esteemed father warned him against prying eyes!" The old silversmith sounds light-hearted, even if he speaks of a serious subject. "Aye, have Frarin send them to your cousin, or to me even. Easy problem to solve! And my my, how angry shall we make the bearer of those unwanted eyes, eh!"
"Aye.. probably someone wanting rumors to spread! Be glad that we're not in Bree any longer or you would not have any secrets." Ranol is nursing his latest mug of beer, seeming a bit distracted despite the lack of any. "Though, it seems a person can't have secrets around here, either. And if you don't have good enough secrets, they make them up. Everyone thinks I'm marrying Siv. I had one dinner with her.. One! Odor wondered as much earlier." The huskarl shakes his head, scowling, and that right they almost drops him out of his chair as the world spins. He grins even as he groans, reaching to set the mug down before it spills all over. "I.. have had enough.. I think."
[Thari(#31038)]
"And everyone is thinking horrid things about me," Thari says to herself in a very pitying tone. She takes three long swallows of her tankard. "Even Siv knew!" She gasps. "I'd imagine Siv is the one who is /spreading/ the rumors!"
[Formin(#31050)] "Nonsense!" Formin snorts, chortling to himself as if vastly amused by this whole conversation. "Oh do stop pitying yourself, my dear Thari. Why, I doubt you would have a care in the world if my cousin were here. Chin up, there we are. Do you know, there was once a time when there were some positively brilliant rumours going about that I had married without a soul knowing! Ah the woes of us poor bachelors, eh, Ranol my lad?" He says, rapping the table again and winking at the huskarl.
And abruptly he stands, flipping his chair about and scooting it under the table. "Well then, cousins, I've had my drink and Durin knows I've plenty enough to do on the morrow. I hope you won't be too disappointed if I take my leave of you?"
"Siv knew what?" Ranol asks, even as he struggles to his feet, looking shaky but not falling. "Aye Formin! Glad to meet you! I shall write to Frarin and tell him that I met his good cousin, and .. well.. I don't know what else I'll write but I'll think of something.. " He shifts his attention to Thari. "I'm heading home. Would you care to accompany me, dear cousin? I will be happy to listen to cry your sorrow for Frarin's absence." He looks like he's ready to fall over, but offers a hand to help her up all the same.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Of course I wouldn't care as much if he were here," Thari says, her sorrow plain still. She reaches for Ranol's hand and stands, not leaning on him too much. "He'd listen and he'd know what to do. Or at least he'd distract me." She tucks her hand into Ranol's elbow and leans against him, sniffing once. "We're going," she tells the sweeper. "I'll go with you, Ranol."
[Formin(#31050)] "Mmhmm," Formin nods vigorously, waving off the barkeep. He looks still amused by Thari and Ranol and gives a conciliatory shrug. "Well then, I suppose you will have to keep up these late night tavern visits then. Wallow in self pity, yes that is the best option!" He is chuckling to himself, highly amused. And with especial flourish, he bows to the two and sweeps out of the tavern, trusting the two to stumble home on their own.
Ranol is unsteady, but not completely wasted. He pats Thari's hand once, then pauses to fish a few coins from his pocket, leaving them on the table as contribution to Odor's tab. Then he pats her hand again and starts for the door.. slowly. "I don't wallow in self pity.. do I? .. I don't think I do." The huskarl muses softly, trying to think through his alcohol soaked senses. It's going to be a slow walk home. Very slow.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari nods vaguely at Formin. "Of course you don't," she assures Ranol. "He's talking about me." She goes with him, slowly, not hurrying him at all.
Ranol does his best to guide Thari along.. or maybe she's guiding him. He's very unsteady on his feet and often slows to a stop, waiting for the world to stop spinning. At one point he moves too fast and almost falls over, "Whooaa.." And when he hears his exclamation echo back at him he giggles.. "Remember, Thari? When we were in that canyon? And we were all sick?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari hauls on Ranol's arm when he nearly falls over and frowns, shushing him a moment later, waving a hand at his mouth. "Yes!" she says. "But this is different! This time we did it on purpose!"
"Yes.. on purpose. Maybe I did do it to spite Siv.. I'm not sure. I don't remember now." Ranol holds onto Thari until he's balanced again, then asks, "Are you doing okay? Really? I promised Frarin I would look after you and I haven't done a very good job of it."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's face crumples and her head bows as she trudges slowly along besides Ranol. "Horrible things are being said about my reputation," she whispers loudly. "You know. Everyone knows. Frarin knows. I don't know what Frarin must think of me. He's such a gentleman he'd never say."
"No.. It's not that bad. I've barely heard a thing, and people only gossip. It doesn't mean anything." Ranol reaches to wrap his arm around her shoulder, though whether it's meant to be support for him or her is uncertain. A little of both, maybe. "Frarin thinks that he is the luckiest dwarf in Erebor, of that I am quite certain."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari starts to lean against Ranol, and then, as if having a spark of intelligence, stands steadier instead, as if to support him. "Do you really suppose so?" she asks, sad and hopeful at once. Her voice drops back into a whisper. "I haven't told anyone, but I've kissed him you know. Many times. Even though we're not married."
Her decision to stand strong was probably a good idea, because he's not growing sober anytime soon. Ranol laughs, a bit loud in the quiet, echoing cavern. "Well you've told someone -now-. Did you enjoy it? Oh.. well.. obviously." He answers his own question, then goes on, "I hope your father comes around. I bet he does. He was nice enough about things when I spoke with him."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Shush, Ranol, hush!" Thari whispers as his laughter echoes. Only a few mugs in, she starts gently steering them toward his home instead of hers. "Of course I enjoyed it! That's the point! Frarin no doubt knows that I enjoyed it and..." she trails off. "What did Father say? What did you say?"
Ranol drops his voice to a whisper at her prompting, "He said that he thought Frarin was only after money. I told him that wasn't the truth at all, and I said that I hope my own sister finds as good a dwarf for a husband as Frarin someday. And.. I told him that Frarin and you both respect each other very much, and bicker a lot about not demanding things of each other. Which.. you do." Oh, the huskarl has a loose tongue when he's drunk. It's probably a good thing that he doesn't engage in the activity to excess very often. Suddenly he draws to a stop. "Your home is the other way." He points out, frowning.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari stops when he does, swaying a bit, her booted feet planted well apart, and she looks up at her cousin with wide eyes. "If I don't see you home then you'll never get home and our Huskarl will be found asleep on the floor!"
"What about you?" Ranol asks, drawing away to look at her more directly. It's difficult, but he manages not to tip. "I should see you home. Better me than you on the floor. Think of the rumors -that- would cause. Come on." He reaches for her arm to begin tugging her in the proper direction.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I... well." Thari waves as Ranol reaches for her, just as she lifts a hand to steady him. "Suppose you're right," she says resentfully as she allows his guidance toward her own home. "You can sleep in a guest room tonight," she finishes in a more decisive tone.
"It's not that far. I'm sure I can manage my way back. You never really answered my question earlier. How are you?" Ranol glances back, then looks ahead again, furrowing his brow as he focuses on the task of staying on his feet. He gazes across the open chamber, searching for the alcove that leads to Thari's home in the dark.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm fine," sighs Thari. "I'm fine." Her head is bowed as she walks, hear face shadowed by the doused lanterns at night, but her voice sounds rough, thick. "I miss him so much."
"Is there anything I can do?" Ranol moves close to her side again, resting a hand on her shoulder. His voice is soft and concerned. And a bit slurred, but he's quiet and attentive.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari gives a bit of a laugh, thick and nearly crying in the mirthful sound. "Tell me to stop being such a ninny?" she suggests. "He'll be home soon and we'll have it out with anyone who doesn't let us be married."
"I don't think it's silly.. You miss him. Even your father mentioned how he noticed how sad you've been. That alone should convince him." Finally they reach the steps, and Ranol faces a real challenge now. Slowly he approaches them, assessing the stairs as if they're some kind of enemy. "What about your mother? What does she think?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari stands there, looking blankly up at the stairs. "Mama was embarrassed. She told me," she sighs. "She told me that a dwarf who puts up with my sort of behavior may not be a real gentleman. And then she gave me a talk about womenfolk that I would rather like to pretend never happened."
"Oh.. don't worry about it. Frarin is honorable and your family is smart enough to look past a few things.. Your father looked past a lot when I asked for his help with something. He'll see to the truth." Ranol finally braves the stairs, slowly climbing with one hand pressed against the stone wall. "Did Frarin send you nice letters?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"Papa's really the one to impress," Thari agrees. She leans a shoulder against the other wall while ascending. She brightens. "He's sent me a couple of really lovely letters!" And then her face falls gloomy again. "Of course, someone is reading them before I do."
"So what if they do? It's horribly rude, but at least they'll see how much he adores you. Right? Who do you think might be reading them?" Ranol keeps pulling himself up the steps, but a few stairs shy of the door he finally slips and falls forward. He catches himself on a higher step, but only twists around to sit, leaning against the wall. He watches her, waiting for an answer.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Frarin writes things that he only intended for /me/ to see," Thari says in a very dark tone. "Ooh!" She leaps foward as if to catch him, lands with one knee on the stone in a bit of a bang, then sits down heavily and leans against her own front door. "Olur, you mark my words. I've already had it out with him but he's insisting he's innocent and for all I know he might be!"
"Tell him I'll beat him up if he does it again. I'm the huskarl.. damned if I couldn't get away with it." Ranol mutters, losing focus on the coversation for a moment as he muses over how a brawl like that might play out, giggling again. "So what did he write that was private?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"hah!" Thari tilts her head against the door and closes her eyes. "I can still beat Olur even if he's bigger than me now." Her eyes sleepily open. "He wrote private things! He's really quite..." Her flush grows. "When no one else is around he is very considerate with me."
"How so?" Ranol asks, tilting his head back to look up at her, grinning now. "I've never gotten love letters. I don't even know what might go in one."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Frarin would be cross if I told you!" Thari says, waving a hand at Ranol with grin widening. "He.. he often says how slowly the days pass without me," she hints.
"There must be more than that.. Otherwise it wouldn't be interesting for Olur to read. He says he loves you and all that, right?" Ranol props one elbow on a higher step, still looking up at her. "Can I read them?" The grin is still on his face, his judgement quite gone tonight. It's a good thing Siv isn't around anymore.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari turns red and covers her grin with both hands, shaking her head. "No you can't read them!" she says, indignant and happy. "He says-- Oh, I can't tell you what he says-- he says, he says I would be very good at running my family's business. He thinks I'm very clever! Shh!"
Ranol's grin widens, and he very sluggishly begins to climb to his feet. "He would know better than I." The huskarl closes his eyes, not fully standing quite yet, "Oh boy, I better help you in and get home. Happy feeling is starting to go away." He opens his eyes again, "Wow.." He pulls himself up to the doorstep, "Do you have a key, or is it open?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari looks up at the door, then back at Ranol, grinning. "Unlocked. Will you come to supper sometime?" She pulls on a doorhandle to to stand, then pulls it again to open the door.
"Yes. I guess I could." Ranol looks down at the stairs and quickly grabs for the doorframe as his balance fails him. "Maybe.. breakfast. You said there's a guest room?" A broken leg is suddenly a very real threat.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Yes." Thari moves to try to push her shoulder under Ranol's arm. "Come on, I'll show you." She grabs his wrist to try to pull him inside.
Ranol lets her help him in, looking ready to fall over now, as the food he ate and all the alcohol make him horribly sleepy. And really, he has no desire to go home at all. Why can't he stay at his uncle's place? It's perfectly normal in other families.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari leads Ranol on to a comfortable spare room, carefully easing him down a short flight of stairs to do so. "Into the bed, my lad!" she says, guiding him to a soft bed done up in reds and yellows. "I'll come and find you in the morning."
Ranol grins, "Okay. Then I want to see the letters. I need to get ideas, in case I start writing some to Siv, you know?" His tone is teasing, and he's only looking to get a rise out of Thari. Once he's sitting on the edge of the bed, he adds, "Thank you.. I hope your family doesn't mind.." A yawn, and Ranol is laying back, sleep too inviting to ignore. "I don't get drunk.. so often.. "
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pushes Ranol as he lays down. "You have anything to do with that Siv and you'll be sorry!" she says, nearly teasing. She then stumbles out of the room and shuts the door behind her.
[Odor(#10430)] Now, drinking careers are numerous...especially amongst dwarves who hold the brewing of ales close to their hearts, and the drinking of them closer still. But there are in any field those who rise above the norm. Those for whom drinking is not merely nine to five. Nor even nine to five with a little paid overtime. Some arrive when everyone else thinks about going home. Thus the broad gait and heavy footfalls of Odor make themselves known in the doorway the warder evidently having just come off of duty as he is just un-uniformed enough that he can't get into trouble for drinking. Large hands rub gleefully together as a huge smile spreads across his lips. "A flagon of the best!" he cries across the room, starting briskly for the bar and adding. "With a side of beef and mustard that'd choke a wide necked animal." his rubbing hands splitting apart to animate the animal in question. Its neck is indeed, very wide."
Ranol glances up at the loud voice, and a smile grows on his face as he recognizes the warder and hears his antics. The huskarl lowers his mug and watches curiously for a moment, offering a nod in greeting if Odor looks his way. He hasn't seen the warrior since they returned to the mountain, and speaks up when he's sure his voice will be heard, "Care to join me, Odor?"
[Odor(#10430)] A deep rumbling cackle rolls out of Odor's mouth as he continues to approach the bar, lips smacking noisily as his eyes gleam with anticipatory glee. Ranol's address draws him from this trance-like state for a moment, and the young dwarf turns to face the sound. "Ranol!" he cries without appreciation for the other Khazad's considerably greater social rank. Perhaps that is why he is personable. "Make that 'two' flagons...and a little extra beef." he instructs across the bar, before long bounding strides bring him to the huskarl's table. "I'd be delighted. And this time...there be no damn trees to spoil it."
Ranol chuckles, and doesn't seem to even notice any lack of formalities. He's grinning as Odor joins him, nodding in agreement. "No trees or Beornings, that's for certain. How have you been, cousin?" The huskarl seems much the same, though despite his smile there are hints of stress around his blue eyes. Otherwise, the only differences are some new clothes and a generally cleaner appearance, now that the dirt of the road isn't plaguing him every day.
[Odor(#10430)] The same cackling laughter rises out again as Ranol mentions the Beornings, Odor reaching for a chair and drawing it close to the huskarl's table, dropping into it with a heavy weight and seems glad to finally be off its feet. "I'll have the kitchen change me order to rabbit stew..." he remarks with an unusual degree of awareness, for Odor. "Ah've been well. After I lost me axe I was a sorry sight. Bloody orc will pay for the insult. If it takes me a lifetime, and my sons their lifetimes...and their sons their lifetimes not a single one of its foul offspring will escape." he grins at this. "But I have a 'fine' new hammer."
Ranol laughs again, shaking his head. "You're lucky Mobeorn didn't grow more upset. We might have had to battle those orcs alone." The huskarl has a quieter manner, not loud or bawdy as so many dwarves are. "I do miss the excitement of the battles, but it's nice to be home again without worry of friends getting hurt. I commissioned some new armor, myself. My leather was a sorry sight."
[Odor(#10430)] "Bah!" Odor dismisses this possibility with a wave of his hand and an enduring of his beaming grin. "Ah'll show that overgrown tree hugger who can hold their liquor when we cross mugs!" This dwarf is quite the opposite of Ranol's manner for he defines and exceeds the definition of loud and bawdy. "Then we'll see who tosses who..." a conspiratorial laughter rising from low chuckles into heartier sounds. "Aye, armour eh? Nice heavy chain?"
"I have no doubt of who would win -that- contest." Ranol answers, grinning. "If you ever meet with him, you'll have to tell me how the competition goes." The huskarl leans back, smiling more easily as Odor's good mood rubs off on him, pushing away some of his troubling thoughts. "Aye, chainmail. Cost a bit, but hopefully it will hold up better than the leather did. Thane Ovor did expert repairs, but orc scimitars had little trouble cutting through it.
[Odor(#10430)] Keeping Odor long seperated from alcohol is a dangerous business, in a similar vein with wrestling trolls, and this is well known in this tavern. The drinks are forthcoming two large flagons brought straight up from the cellar one under each of the barman's harms along with Odor's very own mug, so known as it bears his name etched along its side, and all three objects set upon the table. "Food's just coming." intones the server, before moving off. The stout Barazin nodding appreciatively, he wipes away the wax seal about the cork and begins to pour his drink with greedy eyes. "Oooh, ah'll be seeing his hide again. A year and a day is the arrangement. If he does not come, or invite me it'll be a matter of honour. And then I shall go to him!" the large dwarf cackles again quite loudly at this, before bringing the mug to his lips and gulping thirstly at the heavy draught.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv makes her way through the bar, weaving this way and that between the tables, looking here and there as if looking for someone. Spotting Ranol, she brightens noticeably and heads that way to come up to the table where the two dwarves sit. "Honor? Oh, and good evening."
"I don't know that he would travel here, but if he does I shall most certainly be there to see it. Did you find things well upon your return home?" He lifts his mug and finishes the last of his drink, then holds it absently, relaxed. That is, until Siv's voice joins them. He looks over at the Zinbar and sits up straighter again, habit more than anything. "Good evening, Siv. Please, join us." Because how could he -not- invite her? That would be rude.
[Odor(#10430)] Loud gulps sound from some manner of hybrid between dwarf and tankard. A pewter mug replacing Odor's face and appearing to sport its very own red beard. Its only when a final slurp empties the vessel that he slams it down upon the table and wipes away the foamy residue with the back of his hand that he looks up to Siv. "Hello lassie..." he greets her with warm eyes and a beaming smile, and a little more softness in his voice than was present a moment ago. Looking back then to Ranol. "Either way." he remarks gleefully, as the flagon before him, as opposed to the unopened one in front of Ranol is uncorked once more and the beer flows forth as Odor gets a refill.
[Siv(#24218)] "Ah, Ranol, I didn't expect that you'd be here so late at night," Siv says, sounding disappointed. "BUt they told me you were here, so...." She smiles a little at Odor. "Evening. And how are you?"
Either the huskarl hasn't realized the flagon was ordered for him, or he's not presumptious enough to assume as much. It sits untouched for the moment. Siv expertly pulls his attention, and Ranol lifts a confused brow as he picks up on her disappointment. "Would you prefer I leave?" He asks with a faint smirk, making no move to do so. Though, it's possible that he might were she to ask directly, given his nature.
[Thari(#31038)]
The copper doors open, and another lass opens. Thari's hair around her temples is a bit muzzy as if she has been trying to sleep and didn't comb it properly upon awaking. She walks toward the bar, squinting, but her expression lightens after her squint is directed toward the table with Ranol, Odor and Siv. Toward there she turns instead.
[Odor(#10430)] Looking back up from the important business of filling his mug, Odor smiles again toward the dwarf woman. "Ah'm well. Ah've beer and a pipe, and my supper is soon to come." though the joke of Ranol apparently flies over his head. "Leave? No! I won't allow it! Ye owe me a drink fer one cousin..." his free hand extends a single finger which wags in Ranol's direction. "An there be beef coming that i'll not eat alone." His train of thought is lost as beer begins to overflow the tankard, and Odor scrambles to jab the cork back into place before too much precious amber nectar is lost over his hand.
Ranol holds out his empty mug for Odor to fill, since a drink is demanded. "Fair enough, cousin, though I do not know why I owe a drink." He doesn't remember any such arrangements, but he's in no rush to return home. He hasn't noticed Thari yet, and looks back to Siv, still waiting for a response.
[Siv(#24218)] "Well..." Siv considers that. "Yes, in fact. You shouldn't be out drinking so late," she replies, hands on her hips. "It's unseemly, being out so late drowning your troubles in ale. And it's bad for your business, as well. People will say you're a drinker and unreliable." She doesn't mention Ranor, but the implications are there. Siv, does, though, glance to Odor, one brow raised in disapproval at that dwarf. And then Thari, of all people, walks in, and Siv frowns toward her.
[Odor(#10430)] Setting his own mug aside with an ill-disguised sigh of forlorn desire, and hungry eyes upon it, Odor takes the empty one from Ranol's hand and proceeds to pour. "For breakfast, laddie. Not that ah meant to hold yeh too it..." he looks up with a grunt of non-comprehension as Siv speaks and either unappreciative of her disapproval, or blithely uncaring, he looks back to Ranol. "Troubles, what troubles?" passing the newly frothing beer to the other dwarf.
[Thari(#31038)]
Siv's frown is returned by a nasty scowl from Thari, who is standing behind Ranol with her hands on her hips now. "What call do you have talking to my cousin like that?" she demands. "You apologize to him right now!"
"Bad for my business, Siv? I'm a guard. I don't have any business.." Ranol smiles to soften the words, and gestures towards the chair again. "Sit, join us. We're just enjoying a some good mead." The huskarl doesn't seem overly phased by Siv's attitude, and notices Thari finally, smiling more broadly. "Thari!" His words are cheered, but the look he turns to Odor is one of wariness. "It's nothing, cousin. No troubles." Ranol is a terrible liar, but if he's going so far as to try it, it likely means he doesn't want to talk about it. Oooh, and now Thari is yelling at Siv. He grimaces and interjects, "Both of you, sit.. have a drink.. Please." He speaks in a soft, placating manner.
[<#24218>] Predictably, Siv does not sit. She looks to Thari, moving closer to her, but not with aggression--she seems confused instead, and lowers her voice, gesturing toward Ranol as she speaks. "...--you ... said that I ... ... ... ... between ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .... But............ is ... ... drinking ... ... ... ... hour. ... ... let -Frarin- ... ...? ... ... ... ... ... what ... ... ... ...? and ... ... ... ... ... ... ... drinking ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...? ..., ... all a ... woman ... do for ... ...! ... ... duty, ... fact! ... ... needs ... ... ... from ..., ... ... willing ... step ... to the ... ... ... ... ... .... ... ... ... ... ... this, being ... dwarven ...! ... ... ... ... and ... ... ...!"
[Formin(#31050)] "Oh gracious yes, after that mess, I should think so!" A muffled voice comes from the battered copper door leading out onto Trader's Way, an easy and laid-back voice amidst the chuckles of a few others. The door is pushed open and a dwarf in black with a beard nearly to his knees enters. "Fear not, lads," Formin is chuckling with a few bleary-eyed comrades. "Only one for me tonight! There you go, I'll see you two in the morning then."
The other two, apparently young apparentices, wave and disappear, but Formin comes to the bar. As yet he doesn't appear very interested in the other patrons, for he is quick to make small talk with the barman. "Evening, evening, Hnikar my lad! Just one shot tonight if you please, dreadful long day. Say, how's that young lad of yours been, mm? You know, I saw him just the other day, never seems to pause a minute, does he?" And so the small-talk continues, mostly with Formin speaking.
[Odor(#10430)] "Baaah..." Odor's hand waving above his head as this might clear soem darkening clouds as he grumbles under his breath, though this is itself not startlingly quiet, and he drowns out whatever else he might have to say as the women begin to square off in gulps of nice warm beer. Its as food arrives, a great platter easily the size of the the server's chest with a chunk of beef the size of his head and a nice large bowl of grain-mustard by its side, that Odor brightens properly and seizes the large knife buried in the hefty cut of meat, eagerly sawing off a thick slice and slathering it with the condiment. Unfortunately the whispering slowly filters through his mind. "Union?" he asks. "Eh? Who's union? Yours?" Looking up to Ranol with curious eyes.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari remains standing somewhere behind Ranol, hands on her hips, glowering at Siv. "The difference," she says in a very low voice, but not whispering, "Is that Frarin /is/, in fact, my man. And that Ranol here has no habit of drunkenness at all." But whatever Siv has said does seem to have an effect on Thari, for she does not stand as firmly, nor is her voice as strong. One might almost say she is behaving as if slightly uncertain.
Ranol reaches for his refilled mug, taking a long drink as Siv moves to begin whispering with Thari. He hears snatches about Frarin and duty, but it's Odor's words that cause the huskarl to choke on his beer. He sets the mug down, coughing as his eyes tear up, fiercely shaking his head in answer. "No.. No!" He gasps, still coughing. He looks back at the two women, "Honestly, I don't even have work in the morning so you both can relax." He finally clears his lungs and adds in a grumbled, "I know, a day off from Thane Braldor, hard to believe." His tone is sarcastic, but in jest, a smile returning to his face.
[<#24218>] But Siv shakes her head, her voice still low, her words intense. "... ... -...- ... ..., Thari. Frarin ... ... ... ...--so ..., ... ..., that ... ... .... ......Ranol ... ... a ... .... But ... ......... father like ..., ... ..., and ... needs ... ... ... ... ... .... ... ......... ..., ..., ... ... ... night ... ... ... ... antoher ... ...? ... then not ... ... ..., ... ... ......... then ... ... be ... ... ... father! Can ... ...? And ... would ... ... ... ... ... ... ... guide ... ... way ... ... ... .... ... ... never ... ... ..., Thari!" She turns as Ranol speaks, smiling sweetly at him. 'Well, I suppose that if you have the day off tomorrow, then staying up late is acceptable. In this circumstance.'
[Odor(#10430)] The choking on beer draws a rauchous laughter from Odor, who pauses long enough in the shuttling of beef to mouth to enjoy this. Anyone who knows Odor might well find this unprecedented. Though it doesn't last long, as he stuffs the meat in and chews with great gusto and obvious delight. Washing it down with a mouthful of his own drink as the females whisper conspiratorially his own expression grows a little unimpressed. "Are ye his mother, woman?" the broad warder asks of Siv. "If he wants to stay up and drink he can stay up and drink! He's a dwarf for Mahal's sake! Not some thin-skinned light-headed manling!"
[Formin(#31050)] The barkeep thunks a shot glass of amber liquid down before Formin and the old silversmith pulls it towards him, but he continues speaking. "And do you know, I thought that was just fine, but by the Maker, I certainly didn't think it would take the whole flippin' day, would you believe it! Aye, all day, I tell you, why do you think I'm here so late. By Durin, I suppose I would have started earlier had I known the better. Alas."
He fingers the glass, but something in the conversation behind him brings his gaze around and he glances briefly at the assembled little group. Nothing does he say for the time, however, for he downs the spirits and turns back as the barkeep attempts to get in a word of his own.
[<#31038>]
"Ranol ... ... ... his ...," Thari hisses, closer to Siv now, "... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... direction ... .... ... ... ... ... ... ... a ...!"
Thari breaks off to grin at Odor and claps a hand on Ranol's shoulder.
Ranol isn't sure exactly what war is being fought here, but he can feel the subtle shift in his favor. Of course, Odor's words also bring a small cringe, because he has his doubts that they will be well-received. The warder has a good point, though, and the huskarl lifts his mug for another drink. He's not even drunk yet. "Odor has a point, I have to uphold the dwarven traditions, do I not? It's my duty. What kind of huskarl would I be if I wasn't prepared to drink any of the clan-karls under the table should the situation come up?" He wasn't even aiming to get hammered tonight, but now the challenge is there and Ranol has a wierd sense of excitement at times. And with that he tips back his mug to empty it, and slams it down on the table for Odor to refill.
[<#24218>] "... ... so ... of that?" Siv asks as Ranol slams his mug down on the table. "... ... ... of ... and ... Ranor ... ...? ... ... in ... ... ... ... ... ...? ... ... ..., ... ... my eyes ... ... ... judge, not ... based ... ... ... .... No ... ... ... I ... ... dwarf." At that, Siv steps away from Thari and turns to look at Ranol, sadness and disappointment filling her eyes. 'I will leave you to your libations, Ranol. I bid you good night.' Odor gets a sort of half-grunted leave taking, and Thari a nod as Siv makes her way back out, head held high.
[Odor(#10430)] Having made his point, Odor doesn't make any effort at all to regard Siv's grunt or her whispering, instead he contents himself with the quick draining of his own mug the third since he'd arrived just a few minutes ago. Odor slams it back down to the table beside Ranol's, the beer once more flows free and fast. "First one to fall unconscious pays the bill..." he grins widely, the boisterous cackle returning along with the throwing down of the gauntlet.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari just gives Siv a beady-eyed glare as the other lady departs. "I swear!" she snaps, "The next time I see that girl she is going to get the back of my hand!" She noisily pulls up a chair and slams a hand down on the table. "Pour me one, too! Something strong!"
Ranol had been willing to give Siv the benefit of the doubt, but what he overhears this time leaves his suspicions dead on. His expression grows hard as he watches her leave, knowing now that she was talking of his father and likely making unwelcome comparisons. He sits quietly with a frown on his face, then seems to dismiss it as Odor provides fresh distraction. He goes to fetch a third mug for Thari, and then happily engages in the drinking challenge.
As it happens, Odor quickly outpaces them as Ranol is constantly turning his thoughts back to Siv, and it's not until the warder has grown tipsy at the table that the huskarl finally seems to be showing the effects of the drink. He's smiling more easily and looking happier than he has in a while. "I'm glad I'm going to win.. I don't think I have enough to pay for all this beer.." He comments, his usually discretion severely hampered by his own inebriated state.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari has finished her first mug by the time Ranol says this, and slams it down on the table rather harder than is necessary for it to be refilled. "Ranol," she says in a dark tone. "If you have one thing to do with that girl I'll give you a ding about the head too. She says she loves you!"
"Siv..? I don't think so. Well.. maybe. She gets upset by the things I do, that's for certain. I told her I have no plans to marry anytime soon.. She'll be waiting a while." Ranol shrugs, growing less and less concerned about politeness as the evening wears on. "I heard her mention my father. That's none of her business and I'm going to talk to her about that."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Good!" says Thari with another emphatic fist on the table. She doesn't drink as quickly as Odor , though she is halfway into her next mug. "Talking about that as if she were family! I'm glad you're going to have it out with her. And she went on about Frarin's drinking, too!" she adds indignantly.
[Formin(#31050)] "Frarin's drinking! Aye, well, there's a thing. Bless me, but Frarin does enjoy a pint or two, do you know!" Suddenly Formin is joining Thari and Ranol and Odor, pulling up a chair and sitting backwards on it so as to prop his elbow up on the back rung of it. Having abruptly left the bar after Siv's departure, he is now beaming at Thari and Ranol as if entirely unaware of his interrupting anything.
"Well.. I'm not going to scream at her or anything." Ranol responds, frowning at the fire of Thari's words. "But I'm going to ask her not to bring it up anymore." He takes a long sip of his own drink. "Oh.. Thank you for setting up that meeting with your father. I put in a good word, as I said I would." He grins, "He seemed to appreci.. ate.. " The huskarl trails off as Formin cuts into the conversation. "Hello, good sir. You are a friend of Frarin? I consider him to be a friend of mine, and a friend of a friend is a friend." Oh yes, Ranol is definitely drunk now. He's never so chatty, or.. silly.
[Thari(#31038)]
"And she said she is jealous of me with Frarin!" Thari immediately turns to Formin as if he had been there all along, pointing vaguely in the direction where Siv exited. "Now why would she say such a thing if she didn't have intentions toward my hus-- my-- my, my," she sighs and takes a long drink. "Oh dear."
She shakes her head quickly and looks at Ranol. "He-- my father? He did rather seem more cheerful. That was you?"
[Formin(#31050)] "Oh, now I don't know about that," Formin says shaking his head and frowning with exagerration, but he is soon beaming again. "After your husband-to-be or simply a bossy know-it-all, ask yourself that then!" The old silversmith seems even blunter than his critical cousin, but Formin at least is grinning about it. "Friend indeed, friend indeed," he abruptly nods at Ranol. "Or at the least I should hope so, for otherwise that terrible fellow has been play-acting for a good many years, let me tell you. Formin son of Forlin at your service, sir! First cousin of that old curmudgeon you call Frarin."
Ranol grins broadly, not even noticing Thari's slip up. Or he's quite the actor himself. "Was he? That's good. Very good. I told him about some things he didn't know, and maybe he'll finally come around." The huskarl finishes off his mug.. his fourth? Fifth? And Odor seems to have succumbed, head on the table and unresponsive.
"Well met, Formin son of Forlin. I am Ranol son of Ranor, first cousin to the lovely and intelligent Thari here." He lifts his brows at Thari, still grinning, then reaches to refill his beer and hers as well should it need it. "Were it not for her and Frarin's love for one another, I might never have gotten to know him at all, and I would be with one less good friend in this world."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's round nose has gone pink. She listens to Formin while nursing her drink. "Either way," she says low. "If she gets near him they're both hearing about it."
Ranol's compliments quite lift Thari's dark glower. She grins at him as she sets her mug out to be refilled again and reaches over to ruffle his cropped hair with apparently no thought about what it might do to him in his inebriated state of mind. "Isn't he a good cousin, our Ranol? A dear friend, too!"
[Formin(#31050)] Formin laughs at the antics of the two inebriated cousins, rapping the tabletop with his knuckles as he chuckles. "Well met, well met, Ranol son of Ranor. The lovely and intelligent Thari I have already had the pleasure of meeting, but Frarin has made no light mention of you as well, it is my pleasure to meet you!"
He smirks a half-smile at Thari's continued grumbling about Siv, but shakes his head and sits back, crossing his arms. "Well then, what brings you two to the tavern so late this night? Other than a clear desire to drink your sorrows away, that is! Though I suspect Master Ranol here might be enjoying himself in mere spite of that lovely lady just departed!"
"Oooh.. leave Siv alone. I'll speak with her." Ranol says, seeming to have heard Thari's words. "She means well." There's a bit of a flush to his face, and perhaps his gaze isn't as sharp as it normally is. When she ruffles his hair, as she often does, he reaches a hand to the table to steady himself, delayed in responding to Formin's question until the room settles again. "I'm here because I wanted some time alone. See where that got me?" He grins, in a good enough mood now. "Not that I mind good company. Not at all."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm here because someone's been reading my mail," Thari says in a sulky tone of voice, looking into her tankard with a very gloomy expression. "It's not enough that he's away and I must miss him terribly, but somebody's going through everything he says to me before I'm allowed to read it."
[Formin(#31050)] That brings a halt to Formin's beaming. First his grin pauses, then slowly begins to fade. He looks thoughtful, though there is still quiet smile on his face as he regards Thari. Then, after a few blinks and a few breaths, he leans back and his lips part in thought for a moment. "Frarin's letters?" he says at last, still gently smiling.
Ranol looks over as well, though it's a slow movement. He's looking a bit troubled with keeping his gaze steady on Thari. "Your mail? They're reading the letters Frarin sends? That's.. rude." The huskarl states rather bluntly, at least for him. "Have Frarin send them to me and I can give them to you.. I won't read them." As if he would even need to say as much.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari nods miserably and props her elbows on the table, her face in her hands for a moment. "Someone's even reading the letter he sent to Papa," she says, muffled voice. "And it's still another month until he returns!"
[Formin(#31050)] "Hmm," Formin muses, running a hand through his beard as he leans back. "The one he sent to your father? Well now, what does your father think of that? Well well, twasn't bad wax after all. Still, Frarin said your esteemed father warned him against prying eyes!" The old silversmith sounds light-hearted, even if he speaks of a serious subject. "Aye, have Frarin send them to your cousin, or to me even. Easy problem to solve! And my my, how angry shall we make the bearer of those unwanted eyes, eh!"
"Aye.. probably someone wanting rumors to spread! Be glad that we're not in Bree any longer or you would not have any secrets." Ranol is nursing his latest mug of beer, seeming a bit distracted despite the lack of any. "Though, it seems a person can't have secrets around here, either. And if you don't have good enough secrets, they make them up. Everyone thinks I'm marrying Siv. I had one dinner with her.. One! Odor wondered as much earlier." The huskarl shakes his head, scowling, and that right they almost drops him out of his chair as the world spins. He grins even as he groans, reaching to set the mug down before it spills all over. "I.. have had enough.. I think."
[Thari(#31038)]
"And everyone is thinking horrid things about me," Thari says to herself in a very pitying tone. She takes three long swallows of her tankard. "Even Siv knew!" She gasps. "I'd imagine Siv is the one who is /spreading/ the rumors!"
[Formin(#31050)] "Nonsense!" Formin snorts, chortling to himself as if vastly amused by this whole conversation. "Oh do stop pitying yourself, my dear Thari. Why, I doubt you would have a care in the world if my cousin were here. Chin up, there we are. Do you know, there was once a time when there were some positively brilliant rumours going about that I had married without a soul knowing! Ah the woes of us poor bachelors, eh, Ranol my lad?" He says, rapping the table again and winking at the huskarl.
And abruptly he stands, flipping his chair about and scooting it under the table. "Well then, cousins, I've had my drink and Durin knows I've plenty enough to do on the morrow. I hope you won't be too disappointed if I take my leave of you?"
"Siv knew what?" Ranol asks, even as he struggles to his feet, looking shaky but not falling. "Aye Formin! Glad to meet you! I shall write to Frarin and tell him that I met his good cousin, and .. well.. I don't know what else I'll write but I'll think of something.. " He shifts his attention to Thari. "I'm heading home. Would you care to accompany me, dear cousin? I will be happy to listen to cry your sorrow for Frarin's absence." He looks like he's ready to fall over, but offers a hand to help her up all the same.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Of course I wouldn't care as much if he were here," Thari says, her sorrow plain still. She reaches for Ranol's hand and stands, not leaning on him too much. "He'd listen and he'd know what to do. Or at least he'd distract me." She tucks her hand into Ranol's elbow and leans against him, sniffing once. "We're going," she tells the sweeper. "I'll go with you, Ranol."
[Formin(#31050)] "Mmhmm," Formin nods vigorously, waving off the barkeep. He looks still amused by Thari and Ranol and gives a conciliatory shrug. "Well then, I suppose you will have to keep up these late night tavern visits then. Wallow in self pity, yes that is the best option!" He is chuckling to himself, highly amused. And with especial flourish, he bows to the two and sweeps out of the tavern, trusting the two to stumble home on their own.
Ranol is unsteady, but not completely wasted. He pats Thari's hand once, then pauses to fish a few coins from his pocket, leaving them on the table as contribution to Odor's tab. Then he pats her hand again and starts for the door.. slowly. "I don't wallow in self pity.. do I? .. I don't think I do." The huskarl muses softly, trying to think through his alcohol soaked senses. It's going to be a slow walk home. Very slow.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari nods vaguely at Formin. "Of course you don't," she assures Ranol. "He's talking about me." She goes with him, slowly, not hurrying him at all.
Ranol does his best to guide Thari along.. or maybe she's guiding him. He's very unsteady on his feet and often slows to a stop, waiting for the world to stop spinning. At one point he moves too fast and almost falls over, "Whooaa.." And when he hears his exclamation echo back at him he giggles.. "Remember, Thari? When we were in that canyon? And we were all sick?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari hauls on Ranol's arm when he nearly falls over and frowns, shushing him a moment later, waving a hand at his mouth. "Yes!" she says. "But this is different! This time we did it on purpose!"
"Yes.. on purpose. Maybe I did do it to spite Siv.. I'm not sure. I don't remember now." Ranol holds onto Thari until he's balanced again, then asks, "Are you doing okay? Really? I promised Frarin I would look after you and I haven't done a very good job of it."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's face crumples and her head bows as she trudges slowly along besides Ranol. "Horrible things are being said about my reputation," she whispers loudly. "You know. Everyone knows. Frarin knows. I don't know what Frarin must think of me. He's such a gentleman he'd never say."
"No.. It's not that bad. I've barely heard a thing, and people only gossip. It doesn't mean anything." Ranol reaches to wrap his arm around her shoulder, though whether it's meant to be support for him or her is uncertain. A little of both, maybe. "Frarin thinks that he is the luckiest dwarf in Erebor, of that I am quite certain."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari starts to lean against Ranol, and then, as if having a spark of intelligence, stands steadier instead, as if to support him. "Do you really suppose so?" she asks, sad and hopeful at once. Her voice drops back into a whisper. "I haven't told anyone, but I've kissed him you know. Many times. Even though we're not married."
Her decision to stand strong was probably a good idea, because he's not growing sober anytime soon. Ranol laughs, a bit loud in the quiet, echoing cavern. "Well you've told someone -now-. Did you enjoy it? Oh.. well.. obviously." He answers his own question, then goes on, "I hope your father comes around. I bet he does. He was nice enough about things when I spoke with him."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Shush, Ranol, hush!" Thari whispers as his laughter echoes. Only a few mugs in, she starts gently steering them toward his home instead of hers. "Of course I enjoyed it! That's the point! Frarin no doubt knows that I enjoyed it and..." she trails off. "What did Father say? What did you say?"
Ranol drops his voice to a whisper at her prompting, "He said that he thought Frarin was only after money. I told him that wasn't the truth at all, and I said that I hope my own sister finds as good a dwarf for a husband as Frarin someday. And.. I told him that Frarin and you both respect each other very much, and bicker a lot about not demanding things of each other. Which.. you do." Oh, the huskarl has a loose tongue when he's drunk. It's probably a good thing that he doesn't engage in the activity to excess very often. Suddenly he draws to a stop. "Your home is the other way." He points out, frowning.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari stops when he does, swaying a bit, her booted feet planted well apart, and she looks up at her cousin with wide eyes. "If I don't see you home then you'll never get home and our Huskarl will be found asleep on the floor!"
"What about you?" Ranol asks, drawing away to look at her more directly. It's difficult, but he manages not to tip. "I should see you home. Better me than you on the floor. Think of the rumors -that- would cause. Come on." He reaches for her arm to begin tugging her in the proper direction.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I... well." Thari waves as Ranol reaches for her, just as she lifts a hand to steady him. "Suppose you're right," she says resentfully as she allows his guidance toward her own home. "You can sleep in a guest room tonight," she finishes in a more decisive tone.
"It's not that far. I'm sure I can manage my way back. You never really answered my question earlier. How are you?" Ranol glances back, then looks ahead again, furrowing his brow as he focuses on the task of staying on his feet. He gazes across the open chamber, searching for the alcove that leads to Thari's home in the dark.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm fine," sighs Thari. "I'm fine." Her head is bowed as she walks, hear face shadowed by the doused lanterns at night, but her voice sounds rough, thick. "I miss him so much."
"Is there anything I can do?" Ranol moves close to her side again, resting a hand on her shoulder. His voice is soft and concerned. And a bit slurred, but he's quiet and attentive.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari gives a bit of a laugh, thick and nearly crying in the mirthful sound. "Tell me to stop being such a ninny?" she suggests. "He'll be home soon and we'll have it out with anyone who doesn't let us be married."
"I don't think it's silly.. You miss him. Even your father mentioned how he noticed how sad you've been. That alone should convince him." Finally they reach the steps, and Ranol faces a real challenge now. Slowly he approaches them, assessing the stairs as if they're some kind of enemy. "What about your mother? What does she think?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari stands there, looking blankly up at the stairs. "Mama was embarrassed. She told me," she sighs. "She told me that a dwarf who puts up with my sort of behavior may not be a real gentleman. And then she gave me a talk about womenfolk that I would rather like to pretend never happened."
"Oh.. don't worry about it. Frarin is honorable and your family is smart enough to look past a few things.. Your father looked past a lot when I asked for his help with something. He'll see to the truth." Ranol finally braves the stairs, slowly climbing with one hand pressed against the stone wall. "Did Frarin send you nice letters?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"Papa's really the one to impress," Thari agrees. She leans a shoulder against the other wall while ascending. She brightens. "He's sent me a couple of really lovely letters!" And then her face falls gloomy again. "Of course, someone is reading them before I do."
"So what if they do? It's horribly rude, but at least they'll see how much he adores you. Right? Who do you think might be reading them?" Ranol keeps pulling himself up the steps, but a few stairs shy of the door he finally slips and falls forward. He catches himself on a higher step, but only twists around to sit, leaning against the wall. He watches her, waiting for an answer.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Frarin writes things that he only intended for /me/ to see," Thari says in a very dark tone. "Ooh!" She leaps foward as if to catch him, lands with one knee on the stone in a bit of a bang, then sits down heavily and leans against her own front door. "Olur, you mark my words. I've already had it out with him but he's insisting he's innocent and for all I know he might be!"
"Tell him I'll beat him up if he does it again. I'm the huskarl.. damned if I couldn't get away with it." Ranol mutters, losing focus on the coversation for a moment as he muses over how a brawl like that might play out, giggling again. "So what did he write that was private?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"hah!" Thari tilts her head against the door and closes her eyes. "I can still beat Olur even if he's bigger than me now." Her eyes sleepily open. "He wrote private things! He's really quite..." Her flush grows. "When no one else is around he is very considerate with me."
"How so?" Ranol asks, tilting his head back to look up at her, grinning now. "I've never gotten love letters. I don't even know what might go in one."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Frarin would be cross if I told you!" Thari says, waving a hand at Ranol with grin widening. "He.. he often says how slowly the days pass without me," she hints.
"There must be more than that.. Otherwise it wouldn't be interesting for Olur to read. He says he loves you and all that, right?" Ranol props one elbow on a higher step, still looking up at her. "Can I read them?" The grin is still on his face, his judgement quite gone tonight. It's a good thing Siv isn't around anymore.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari turns red and covers her grin with both hands, shaking her head. "No you can't read them!" she says, indignant and happy. "He says-- Oh, I can't tell you what he says-- he says, he says I would be very good at running my family's business. He thinks I'm very clever! Shh!"
Ranol's grin widens, and he very sluggishly begins to climb to his feet. "He would know better than I." The huskarl closes his eyes, not fully standing quite yet, "Oh boy, I better help you in and get home. Happy feeling is starting to go away." He opens his eyes again, "Wow.." He pulls himself up to the doorstep, "Do you have a key, or is it open?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari looks up at the door, then back at Ranol, grinning. "Unlocked. Will you come to supper sometime?" She pulls on a doorhandle to to stand, then pulls it again to open the door.
"Yes. I guess I could." Ranol looks down at the stairs and quickly grabs for the doorframe as his balance fails him. "Maybe.. breakfast. You said there's a guest room?" A broken leg is suddenly a very real threat.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Yes." Thari moves to try to push her shoulder under Ranol's arm. "Come on, I'll show you." She grabs his wrist to try to pull him inside.
Ranol lets her help him in, looking ready to fall over now, as the food he ate and all the alcohol make him horribly sleepy. And really, he has no desire to go home at all. Why can't he stay at his uncle's place? It's perfectly normal in other families.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari leads Ranol on to a comfortable spare room, carefully easing him down a short flight of stairs to do so. "Into the bed, my lad!" she says, guiding him to a soft bed done up in reds and yellows. "I'll come and find you in the morning."
Ranol grins, "Okay. Then I want to see the letters. I need to get ideas, in case I start writing some to Siv, you know?" His tone is teasing, and he's only looking to get a rise out of Thari. Once he's sitting on the edge of the bed, he adds, "Thank you.. I hope your family doesn't mind.." A yawn, and Ranol is laying back, sleep too inviting to ignore. "I don't get drunk.. so often.. "
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pushes Ranol as he lays down. "You have anything to do with that Siv and you'll be sorry!" she says, nearly teasing. She then stumbles out of the room and shuts the door behind her.
Players: Odor, Ranol, Siv, Thari, Formin
Located in: Erebor
