Ye Olde Corner Pub }{ A drunk adventure!

[skimaskkass]

It was dawn, about a half-hour before the sun's rising, normally a grand spectacle but the smog made it a hellish event. Ckaratin was walking, kicking the dirt on the road as he was walking. He sarcastically thought he was 'preparing for a dust storm' he said to himself wittingly. He realized he would choke if he kicked the dirt any more because of the combination of the dirt, smog and what he had last night would fill his lungs.

He wandered around with a bag of wheat that he found yesteryear trying to see if he could sell it to someone who didn't know that it had gone bad. He did sell it to a beggar for about 20 copper coins in a sash made out of silk. Since he had make his monthly trip to the market and had already bought all his goods and left it at the inn, Ckaratin thought to use the rest of the money to spend on having a good time.

Having a good time to Ckaratin was getting wasted at the near by pub. He eventually came across a huge sign hanging on a third story building and it read: 'Jack's Cellar" He had heard about the fine compliments of the place such as "Greatest ale and wine in all the land" and vulgar insults like "I'd rather eat rotten goat carasses" He entered and was surprised to see it nearly full! The sun was just rising and there were double digits in the lines to get refreshments.

Ckaratin curiously asked a man who was in line why there was some much people in here. "Jaswin's prediction for told that today that it would be hot enough to cook chicken in the shade! So we came here to fuel up on liquids." The old main exclaimed in a shaggy drunk voice."

[Chaz Algo]

Contemplation, it painted the face of a man at the furthest table from the entrance, and left alone by most of the crowd. And for good reason! Triple Orcs, two Dwarves, and of all things a Troll sat across from the 'man' who seemed to be dragon from the neck down. Strange digits, a long tail and wings well colored. He was lost in though, smoking a cigar of sorts, and only occationally speaking to the others. The dwarves were contrast, and sat on either side of him, drinking profusely.

The blue-haired one seemed leaner than the other, who had traditional red hair and bear with black iron amidst the braids. The other seemed to prefer hides as opposed to metals, very similar to the large green troll fellow who ate lage eggs for breakfast. Such a large.. creature, was well socialized it seemed for it's kind, and had an impartial look on his odd, long face. Two of the orcs sat on either side of the troll, with a shorter, yet lankier orc who was mostly black with greenish hues, especially the armor accenting it. Well, it was difficult to say exactly, as one of the 'orcs' bside the troll looked quire human though strangely robust for the trappings of a spellcaster. Hair of darkest blue, the skin tanned but greyish some, and large deep blue eyes full of soul. Wild hair infact, spikey like bolts and layered, a middle-eastern garb about him from a facescarf to the loose gloves and sand-worthy boots. However, their compatriot..

The largest orc some had ever seen, though a fe could note the 'human' aspect of the being, being a half-breed, he was.. incredibly ugly, and feral. Eating in such a way the troll seemed very civil, the rusty brown tan hardly kept back the 'red' skin tone, with mangy blackened brown hair, the pig-nose had iminished but made him grotesque ws the near lack-of-nose. Large jaw and all, but the upper lift was raised highly and pointed, almost like a shield to keep the frenzy of food and drink from splashing up into the exposed airway. Red eyes peered at the one across from him, not eating it seemed, arms folded with a book before his crossed arms. A little shield of magic keeping the food debris from the pages as it flew across the table.

Chaz on the other hand, had to rely on the dwarf beside him to smack away he food bits, as he was bus reading over three books at the same time. Going from one to the other, pages churning almost as fast as the spit when the large orcish man laughted and shouted as the dwarves and troll seemed to be.. joking? Ofcourse, in the tongues of giants and such trollish figures. "Will you dolts quick joshing!?! We need to find a place for a settlement.. or atleast a buiding for sale! Atleast a parcel to dig at.. I can't keep two Bats in a bellfrey now can I?!?" He seemed ready to strike one of the dwarves who was particularly erratic at the time.

[skimaskkass]

Ckaratin Flynnski went up to the line and asked the person in front of him (in the line) what he should drink first, what he should drink in small amounts, ect. The jötunn in front of him was so drunk, so disoriented that his voice seemed to just fade every time he tired to speak. In fact he was so drunk that he tied several knifes to the sole of his shoes so when he walked about he had a good foothold! (the knifes went through the floorboards to give him balance) Ckaratin looked down at the floor."Everyone who isn't drunk is passed out" He looked up, shook his head and shouted "this is paradise!"

No one took notice to what he said because everyone was so 'focused' on their own fun. But the bartender who was a well dressed up elf, wore a button coat was silver colored which had a emblem under the right pocket. It was to far away to give any details on. His face was a calm, proud but yet depressed face. Brown hair combed down the back of his head. No one took notice to what he said because everyone was so 'focused' on their own fun. But the bar tender looked with a discriminating look in his eyes. He was a tall elf. The wore a sliver button coat which was slender but elegant. Under his left jacket pocked was a emblem in a bronze color. It was to far away to see in detail. He had a calm face with a depressing posture. He had scars waving all across his neck, some were thin straight lines, while others were double layered, one on top of another zigzagging like waves in the sea. He had combed brown hair all the way down to the back of his head, it was almost a mullet. His left ear had had a earring which was in the shape of a flask. while his other was chopped of right in the middle.

He grabbed something under the counter, it was a rag and a chalice that was made from tin and read in gold: "Drink or die, Drink and Die" It was Ckaratin who was at the front and before he could speak a word the bartender said. "Your new here to this 'fine' establishment correct" Ckaratin bobbed his head up and down while yawning. "When your a newcomer here at Jack's Cellar you get this cup when you first drink here" the bartender instructed. "So when picked you poison..." Ckaratin' face beamed radiantly.
"How can you drink again from this?" The elf snickered:
"you must ride 'Big Bessy' longer then the one 5 following records" Ckaratin turned his head at a huge chalkboard that from hung above.

It read:

Big Bessy Ride times

1. Barth "Knucklebuster" T. 301 seconds - lived

2. Doug "That Guy" W. 265 seconds - dead

3. James R. 258 seconds - lived

4. Vladimir C. 237 seconds - lived

5. Horgat "Alucard" M. 214 - dead (?)

As of today 421 out of 604 people has died trying to ride Big Bessy, none of the staff at Jack's Cellar is responsible if you die or get injured partaking in this event

~Thank You For Choosing Jack~

"That sounds like fun" said Ckaratin in a sarcastic but sadistic tone. "So anyway how much is your pale ale?" "4 'bits' of copper" replied the bartender. So what is the oldest wine you can get for 26 'bits. Sweet, 26 rhymes with..." (he had a total of 30 copper coins with him) "shut up" the bartender forcefully said. Half the pub looked in his direction. The bartender sighed but continued: "The oldest wine you can get that we have with 26 'bits' of copper is a Ularian Vine's of the Finest from 20 years ago." "How grand, fetch me both" Ckaratin ordered with a delighted tone.

He was given a bottle of the wine and pale ale. He poured the into his cup, took the chalice and sloshed in in his mouth and swallowed. He guzzled the rest of his concoction forcefully and with incredible speed. He was already disorientated and fell out of his seat. He crawled under a table took a hat he randomly found and put it over his face. He burped and said to him self: " Imma a hap-happy mamn and I not moving from dis va-very spot"

[Chaz Algo]

Indeed, even half of the table looked up when the elf took to shouting. Some of them grinned, others ofthem sighed and showed signs of dismay. The odd fellow at the head of the table seemed only occupated by his 'fun'. A constant working and note jotting, book referencing over the best map he had obtained of this place, these lands and villages while discussing it with those before him. Or atleast, those with the wit to pay attention and contribute input. Their assembly would only shift mostly away from their own interest when it came time for this fellow to ride 'Bessy' and ofcourse the orcs would jest and jeer, especially about the reminder.

Their trollish friend had been the one to ride the creature, enjoying it much thusly and ofcourse lived. That strange man in the glistening armor and hardened focus seemed not bothered, these mundane things so beneath him. The spikes upon his shoulders and forearms shifting, some rising as others receeded. Colors changing, energies sparking off of his flesh from time to time. If there was a bar wench she was sure to avoid brushing up against his vicinity knowing the results of his presence had upon her. It was not really bad, just horribly surprising and embarassing personally. "Alright.. so you take the desert? She will take you lot to the peaks and I shall go alone where my instincts take me. The woods will be my first stop, I must examine the flora and fauna..."