Wary fools, Colt Kinslammer be Knock'in

[Colt Kinslammer]

Late Darkening. Cloudy with a Bright Honest Moon. The Twelfth of Immanis in the Season of Winter, Era XIV Post Fractum

Ahoist the dark grain dyed so by ale and mixture sits a dwarf of some self sufficient authority. His brood is fair yet slightly occupied by thoughts beyond the tavern wall. His beard is dark while bright enough to contrast a hardened yet youthful spirit. Blue eyes. Crystal clear and dynamic as candle flame.. they watch piercing the veil of laughter and drunken comradery. He spits onto the floor then rubs his nose quietly... So much for a peaceful night alone. The weight of a length of metal lies cool toward the inside of his knee socket, it's reassuring gleam dedicated to the ways and code of the dwarven clans. Colt has another sip of bone frozen ale. Perfect.. just the way it needs to be. Least they got some aspect of the ambience right.

Letting the hollow sound of an empty tankard ricochet across the table the Dwarf couldn't help but let himself linger awhile... waiting, steady and true for a hunter. A man plagued by monsters, a nightmarish sea of greenskins and cobbled tongue. He knew the type, or thought so in arrogant consideration; a farm raided by marauders, perhaps a father of a disrespected daughter.. All driven inside, to the safety of the city. Problem was, whatever they needed... was OUTSIDE. And that took some doing.. well, conquering the fear did.
He usually came in about that time, when the contrast of terror met the squalor of integrity, greed or need. Something had to be had, and old Kinslammer would be the hammer to the blade. Stand up to the task and knotch another mark across the hilt. Old Kinslammer indeed... He blinked, something literally ablaze behind his gaze. A memory past, and a drink present. Bring on the stranger.

[Drake Flowe]

OOC: Ok fixed.

Timestamp: Same as above post.

een Drake was wondering around the tavern. His day was a little low and boring, so he headed on down to the tavern. "Another ale please, acctually make that two." He sat at the bar looking down into his cold ale. "Well heres to another brightening and darkening down the tubes." Drake holds his ale up, as if he was do cheers to himself. It was a depressing sight to see. Drake got up and took a sip. He stared around the tav, seeing a few able bodies moveing around. "Barkeep could 'ya send two ales over to the dwarves sitting there?" The barkeep nodds and walks over to them and shows compliments to drake. Drake nodds at the two dwarves and holds up his ale, in a somewhat drunken state.

[Korgar Kinslammer]

The tavern’s wooden floorboards creaked noisily beneath the dwarf’s heavily booted feet, both of which pounded like a hammer atop an anvil as he treaded across the main room. The dwarf’s obsidian beard, frizzy and dangling to his stomach, concealed the lower half of his grime-ridden visage, and it bounced rhythmically against his abdomen with every one of his short strides. His broad shoulders were comparable to a wild bull’s, and his barreled chest could scarcely be contained within the tan-colored, cotton tunic that clung to his upper body.

Two enormous battle axes, strapped in an ‘X’ on his back, bobbled against him as he lumbered over to the section of the tavern where his brethren was seated. Korgar’s dry lips cracked into a smile as he arrived at the opposite side of the table, standing over his brother and beaming mirthfully down at him. “Well if I’m a durned rat-eatin’ cether’s mama, it’s good ta see ye ‘ere!” He said, cackling boisterously and loud enough for the tavern’s other occupants to hear. Like most of his kindred, subtlety was lost upon the Kinslammer dwarf.

Ensconcing loudly into one of the chairs, the dwarf pumped one of his enormous fists into the air. “Four ales wit’ extra foam ‘ere! N’ make it quick too, me n’ me brother ain’t got all brightenin’!” He roared, turning to Colt attentively and not bothering to confirm whether or not his order had been registered. “Tell me, lad, how was da trip ‘ere? Ye be runnin’ into any trouble?”

[Drake Flowe]

Drake wasn't sure if the dwarves would respond. Non-the-less drake sat there drinking again. The night passed on and more ales were going down. Simply enough drake loves to drink, it seems quiet odd to some but its only natural for him. He stood up and felt dizzy, he was seeing everything in double vison. "Wow, ales kickin' in." Drake says as he stands to his feet. He walks around and decides he was going to introduce himself to the dwarves. Drake approec the table and nodded. "Serale fellow dwarves. May I sit here with you?" Drake poses his hand on the edge of the third chair as if he were going to sit down.

[Colt Kinslammer]

Minding your own business was never easy in a rat's nest like Imperia, but when it came to blood all the rules changed. Like an apparition from the past Korgar himself came barrelling through the front doors, loud and gregarious as ever. The younger Dwarf did snort, bearing a hooked grin that snapped at his bearded cheeks with a scratched jaw.
"Well I'll be a choir of Banshees, they finally let you back above root.. Must of ran out of ale and air, cause I'm pretty sure I caved your tunnel and left ye ta rot after that mess ya left in 'ma hands the last time.."

As the fresh beer started to arrive, along with it came two tankards mysteriously gifted from some stranger. Colt blinked and looked the man over, nothing but a flabbergasted farmer to be sure.. He returned to his conversation, leaning over the table and stared mock threatening into the space between his kin's wide eyes; utilizing a pair of fingers on his right hand to make a point.

"Two Darkening, it took me took me two damn days straight to clean the blood from off Milking Mary's walls .. ye mug." Shaking his head, the quieter Colt took another sip. "Now I ask again, what by the bright fist of Cetheron inspired you to loose two boars into the cabin of the maid I be bedding, hm? Not to mention the hell that firebrand scalded me with on parting. .. Gods I should feed y' ta the worms but your grizzled hide'd probably glue the 'digestion.." He inched a kindly smile at the jest.

As Colt's half-strung words parried then feinted, a tall wobbling shadow arrived at the table. Kinslammer the Bold wasn't in the mood.
"No, ye canna sit here ya stiltwalking mammoth, get yer drunken puss out me longhairs.... now Shove Off." The souring dwarf gestured menacingly but with lack of real distain. He had come here alone, and now he had two friends and a great deal of mead.. But it was like a stroke of luck to find your own brother amid the rabble.

"Bah.. Strike a Tankard... Never say the Kinslammers didna know how to welcome the self sodden drunks of this world, collapsed in on their own filth and mire.. Climb aboard." Don't know what Drake was suppose to scale, but apparently he was welcome to sit down as long as the mead kept dosing the fuming spirits of the man's hosts.

[Drake Flowe]

Drake had a confused look on his face. "Dwarf...I buy you and you kin here two ales and you treat me with such disrespect. All in all, sticks and stones fellas." Drake didn't care he sat down anyway. "Barkeep...Three ales, and for this dwarf..." Drake pointed at the loud mouthed Colt."...Give him a shot of the hardest whiskey you got...If its drink you want dwarf endure this." There were very few within Imperia that could handle that many ales, and shots a whisky but one thig was for sure dwarves can.

"Tell me dwarf..." Indicating toward colt. "...What will it take to gain respect with my peers, such as you...I mean no disrespect toward anyone, just trying to have a good time with history's best drinkers." Drake shugged his shoulders and took a huge sip of his ale. Anyone could tell drake was trying to brown nose but whats the harm in making freinds. In imperia friends are always good to have, and drake liked the dwarven people. Drake slammed the mug of ale on the counter. "Another ale here." Drake was pounding brews so fast he already had three empty mugs by him.

[Korgar Kinslammer]

A sheepish grin folded across the dwarf’s dry lips, confessing his self-recognition of the aforementioned blunder. “Oh ye know, dats what ye get when ye take me barmaids. I called dibs on her first n’ ye know it!” the barrel-chested Korgar replied, chuckling heartily as he inadvertently slammed his heavy elbows onto the table. “N’ ye should of seen yer face. I thought dem boars almost got ye fer a second. Ha!” He added. Theirs was a peculiar relationship, one wrought by dangerous humor but undeniable kinship. Only a dwarf could understand such a bond.

“N’ dem worms wouldn’t o’ stood a chance against these!” Korgar retorted, flexing one of his enormous biceps proudly in front of him. Of course Colt hadn’t been serious about his threat, but his obsidian-bearded counterpart lacked the intelligence and the wit that Colt undoubtedly possessed.

“Where is me ale!?” the dwarf roared again, and it was at that moment that the stranger’s altruistic purchase arrived. “By me mother’s beard dat looks good!” He shouted happily, snatching one of the mugs and bringing it unrestrainedly to his opened mouth. Chugging nearly half of the glass in a matter of seconds, the dwarf wiped a small portion of the copious residue caught in his beard after his initial sip.

As the stranger arrived, Korgar’s mirthful visage remained despite his brother’s apparent disdain for the interrupter. Colt’s pessimism, something that Korgar had become acclimated to over the patterns of their childhood, elicited a smile on his face, and he leaned back in his chair, resting the mug on his solid abdomen. “Bah, he ain’t gonna do us no harm. Da more da merrier,” Korgar said, slowly turning to the human and thrusting a finger at him, “So long as ye keep ‘em comin’ ye ‘ear?” He asked, gesturing to his nearly emptied mug of ale.

Wrinkling his nose as the man continued to plea for Colt’s recognition, Korgar continued to cackle. “Respect? Ders only one way ta get me brother’s respect n’ it ain’t by kissin’ his arse. Ye already got me respect o’ course if ye keep da ale flowin’ but dat’s just me. Colt ain’t easy ta please!”