Taklinn kicks the door of the tavern open, carrying a very large length of chains about his neck and in his arms. He walks over to a chair and lays down his burden, breaking a chair in the process.
"Sandstone!" he yells, "Gonna need ta get a gnome ta' fix that up afore I leave to the mines." he says with a chuckle. "Had it been dwarven-made it woulda' withstood more weight than that!" he bellows as he goes over to the bar, pulling his mug off his belt and picking up the Decanter. He closes his eyes and whispers under his breath before pouring his mug full. He then repeats the process of whispering to himself and and replaces the decanter.
He hops to the top of a table and shouts "Hear me well stout folk of Jastrey! If ye tire o' the endless skies above ye; if ye yearn fer the warm forge and companionship of kin and clan, if yer tired of rubbin elbows with hoot scum and the smell of goblin every time ye sit down to a meal; If ye be dwarf or gnome and wish to return to the old ways, then come ye to the Citadel and be amongst yer kin. Our new clan is bein' formed and the singin' of the pickaxe and the forge will ring out of our tunnels fer generations ta' come!" He finishes his speech with a flourish and downs the entire mug, stumbling backwards as he does and falling off the table to the floor in a drunken pile.
"That Gutbuster was a little stronger than I remember! he shouts as he tries to regain his feet.
"AN' glad ta have ye lad! We will raise axe, hammer, and mugs together in the tradiitons of old. With a Thousand Thousand of Tons of rock above our heads. More focused, more determined, and more prepared ta meet our foes in the end!" Taklinn says as he steadies himself after standing.
Morzoth stammers in the smell of soot and smoke following. He sits at the bar and watches the two stout ones in their marryment. he picks up a glass and raises it to them.
"i'm here to send you off master blacksmith but if you e'er be needing that blade of yours sharpened you know where to find me.
Keg stomps in, in his arms are various chests and boxes, barrels, and a small stool. The amount of items he carries are alarming to those he stumbles by, as they seem to be perched very precariously upon one another. The stack of items sways to and fro as he makes his way to the table Takin and Jerond are sitting at.
Keg lets loose the items they fall to the floor with a loud clatter. The noise of ore and coins, weapons, and shields striking the ground all at once is nearly deafening. Keg turns to his friend and smiles broadly.
“This be the first load fer the cart. I cana wait ta be back underground.” Keg says with a sense of reverence in his eyes.
Almost as if he just noticed him, Keg’s eyes widen as he notices Jerond. Keg falls all over himself to shake Jerond’s hands and says, “This be a real pleasure a meet tha chosen of our immortal! Tak has told me all about ya!”
Then just as suddenly as he became giddy Keg sobers and steps back. He stomps on the floor of the tavern, the floor shakes and the sound is that of thunder. All of the trunks and barrels on the floor bounce into the air, along with all of the tables, stools, and patrons. Only the dwarves are unmoved.
From nowhere keg’s weapon and shield appear at the ready, and Keg bows.
“I Keggar Ironspur swear my shield to defend the chosen of the immortal Espidrel, Jerond Fireforge!”
The Stomp of Keg disterbs a pile of feathers, bones, and various hides that had been stacked up in the corner of the Tavern. A large human falls from the center of it. The immediate area now reeks of piss, vomit and booze. A glass bottle rolls from the human's hand, and his face peeks out from his hood. His face is caked with blood, and long scratches adorn the sides of this man's skull. His forehead seems to have the likeness of a beak carved into it. "Vat in all of ze Pit iz all diz ruckus?"
Freyja can been seen sitting at a table having a drink and writing in her journal. The news of Jerond Fireforge bieng the chosen perks her ears. This is the first she's heard of it. Freyja looks up from her book and wipes the foam from her upper lip to raise her mug in an attaboy do us proud kind of way.
Jerond bows in return to Keg. “Good Sir, the pleasure be mine... Jerond Fireforge at yer service”.
“Aye, It be true... I ha' felt the hand of the immortal upon me head... He be a' guidin' me but where to, nay can I tell...” The Dwarf gazed at the wall as if seeing into a far distance.
“As does me brother Taklin, I be hearin' the spirits of our fathers that ha' gone 'afore us and they be callin' us to forge a Home beneath the Citadel”.
“By the least, we will be shed of the company of these goblins and their kin.”
“Our ancestor’s smile on us”, Keg raises his head from his bow to look again at Jerond. “We are returning to the old ways, the dwarves and their kin return to the warm ground and the Uordeq are under dwarf rule.”
Keg’s eyes pass to Taklin. “I canna believe you let me get me pledge in ta tha chosen one first. You are gett’n slow from too much drink’n lad.” ,Keg smiles once more.
“When do we move out? I be eager ta settle inta me home. Be we wait’n fer anyone else?” Keg asks as he begins to gather his things again.
With a knowing smile, Taklinn bows to Keg. "I figured ye deserved the honor of pledging first. Ye canno' always be in the rear for our contests." As far as I know, all interested parties are here, an' we can set out post haste. I will return to town soon and see if any others are interested to join us our cause. Most of the supplies I have already had delivered, but I have a cart to put our last minute, necessities in."
"Tis good fer t' see ye again Brother Esgir!” Jerond bellowed. “I see ye brung yer boomin' stick with ye. A mighty fine thing it were, blasting holes in them undead doers o' evil and near to bustin' holes in everbodys ears.”
The Dwarf bowed to Esgir then turned to greet Freyja. “Fair Lady, honored we be to have ye joinin with us.” “I have seen yer courage against the odds and there be fewer phase spiders here-bouts bethanks to yer valor.”
Jerond looked back to Taklin and Keg asking “Did nay our cousin Gnomes come t' answer the call?”
"I've a feelin' a few are about to answer the call. I will seek them out and see if they care ta' join us. I'm fer hopin' ta' see a few more beards about as well, as Jastrey has a few more of us stout folk about." Taklinn says after draining yet another mug of holy water. "Mayhaps we can get a batch of holy water started to work through the winter ta commemmorate the return of The Mason of the Mountains."
As Fireforge questions the whereabouts of the gnomes, the tavern door opens and in sashays a tall Ixifar. He is clothed in cream white except for a crown of black, purple and green feathers on his head. His attitude is one of cockiness and superiority as he makes his way through the tavern. He sits at the bar adjacent from the dwarves and throws a hat onto the countertop.
Black eyes bore into the surrounding patrons. The ixifar immediately dismisses the town's newer dwarves and the pile of refuse in the corner. A slight smile appears on his face when he glances at Morzoth. He stares at the Angori for a moment, licks his lips and turns to Keg and Taklinn.
"Running away, cousins?" Treyskip asks in a voice full of condescension.
"Fair lady, I'd blush if I thought that was possible." Freyja collects what few belongings shes brought and staggers over towards the dwarves. This way she's not mixed in with the other bric a brac and can hear any further announcements from her brethren more clearly.
Taklinn looks at the newcomer and mumbles to himelsf as he walks around the Ixifar. "Cousins? We are stout folk, born of the stone and forge, not hatched from eggs. and we dont run from fights, we plan and pick when and where we will fight to gain the best advantage. We merely wish to return to our heritage and live as we see fit. Should Jastrey need us, they have but to ask. The mines are known to all, and several people in town have seen the citadel in which we will reside."
“What have we here?” asked Jerond, hopping up onto the stool where he was sitting. He was now near the height of the Ixifar. “Tis our dancy-dancin' bard come fer t' see us off.” Jerond proclaimed as he did a quick (and rather awkward) 2-step shuffle on the seat and then plopped back down. “Seems ye have seen better days me lad” he gestured at Treyskip's new Ixifar form. “Afore ye were a handsome Gnome and ready fer battle. Now ye be lookin' ready t' take to the skies with all them feathers” he laughed. “Here. Let me buy ye a drink lad” Jerond offered.
Turning to Taklin Jerond said “ We had best look to our defenses as among our first order o' affairs...
We'll need to set wards agin' them varmints that ye and Keg run out o' there already.” Glancing around the room he lowered his voice and continued... “Same and the like, we need t' be able fer t' challenge the unsavory types thats infested these parts.”
Treyskip glances at the dancing tipsy dwarf. "Looks like you beards have a fool for the Citadel." He sneers and turns to Taklinn. "But seriously cousin, you don't recognize me!" The ixifar puts on the hat and begins to stammer. "I..Ittts me. Poor ol' TTTrrreyyskip."
"Aye the Citadel" Jerond shouts back as Taklin regains his feet. "Such be music to me ears." The dwarf seems to be in as happy a mood as he is capable. "I done been packin' me bags fer the travelin'!" he exclaimed.