The bard's first thought was - stars and bloody song, I'm feeling short here. It was not a thought he had often. Having to tilt his head back to see the face of the man who just stomped into his tavern made him think of the missing Gurn, and of his long months under the desert of Sedera.
His second thought - that is one ugly man. Well, it figured, mixing those bloods never did seem to work out all that well for the features. Drab clothing strained to contain a body that only seemed proportional in the barn-like space of the Buckle concert hall. The head of an axe, wider than most people's waists, was visible on the man's back and the hilt of another weapon jutted from the overly muscled right side.
"Welcome to the Silver Buckle, what can I get you?" Friendly seemed like the way to go. He was sorely tempted to say "if you're collecting money for someone, I'm not in arrears", but he didn't want to tempt fate - and he was not entirely sure the man would grasp his jest. The huge man looked down, expressionless in a way that indicated highly focused thought or the almost total lack of it. The bard waited for speech; the giant instead pantomimed bringing a cup to his lips. Eloquence without effort. "Of course! The bar is this way."
Silence rippled one or two tables ahead, their passing leaving a wake of stunned non-sound. He was his usual self except for straining his already lengthy stride to keep a lead on the big man. Just another customer, folks. A solitary dwarf stood, slammed his mug onto his table, scattered some coins without looking, and headed for the door with a scowl. Well, at least he'd paid.
Both long tables in the bar were occupied with a group of rowdy dockworkers, at least one of which probably had some giant blood. The newcomer didn't make eye contact and made no hostile moves, instead looking with a hint of dismay at the human-sized bar stools. The bard walked around to serve, giving Michael the opportunity to slip away and keep an eye on things; the giant man looked over each stool and chose the center of the three on the inside of the bar. This put his back to the two tables of men. He didn't seem to care.
If the man's size and obvious strength were enough to make most people quake a little, the way he carefully - almost gingerly - set himself down onto that stool was the stuff of pure comedy. Oak creaked as the massive bum perched upon the circle wood as if it were a decorative glass plate, and then the big man froze from the waist down. The bard felt an ache in his ribs from holding in a laugh but the pain was a tiny foreshadowing of what he'd likely feel if he did let the guffaw out and so he held it, biting the inside of his mouth instead. "What's your pleasure?"
The man brought yet another imaginary cup to his lips then flexed a trunk-like bicep and pointed to it. "Something strong then?" A nod. "Very good, let's see..." He headed to the liquor cabinet and saw a hefty stack of True filling a hole where two mini kegs of Dwarf's-Head Ale had been. The coins held down a blood-red note.
Aye Andy, Oi left ye 1300 trues for some beer n salmon, tanks Griff
On the same piece of paper just below:
Aye came back for 3 pear juice n left ye nuter 1000 coins.
He grinned. It wasn't often he did more than break even, he'd have to thank the dwarf the next time he saw him.
So. Something strong...he wasn't sure the tolerance so he pulled first a Black Knight Malt from a keg that he'd gotten a lot of woozy compliments on. Sliding the bottle across the bar, he watched.
The giant opened a much-worn coin satchel and dumped a pile of different coins, many of them bloodstained, onto the bar top. He didn't count them. The bard waved a dismissive hand. "First one's free - no coin necessary." The big man didn't move to take the coin away and lifted the bottle in one meaty paw with a suddenly appraising look. He uncorked it, sniffed, for all the world looking like an over-sized version of the wine and spirit snobs at the "tasting club" near the city's government district. An impression that lasted until the man's first upended gulp.
The bottle was set down and the man swallowed, belched, smacked his lips, and frowned briefly. He finished it on the second swallow, pushed the glass container back to the bard, and flexed the massive bicep once more with a pointed stare.
"Not strong enough...alright then." He felt a little like an alchemist in an apothecary as he turned to rummage through the bottles and kegs that filled the bar shelves. "Aha...here we are." A larger bottle with a dull grey liquid within, and heavy at that. The giant man's eyebrows rose a hair and he seemed to recognize the brew. Another uncorking, another sniff, and another sloppy guzzle; this time he finished the bottle before scooping up another completely random handful of coins and dumping them on the bar. His face seemed on the verge of approval...then he set the bottle closer to Andrew, grunted, and flexed.
Right.
Griff may have drank his primary cabinet dry of the Buckle's strongest ale, but he always had a backup. He held up a finger. "I have to check my second bar, I'll be right back." A quick song and he ran at the speed of sound to the far bar, behind the fireplace relaxation area. Bottles and mugs were shifted aside...where is it, I know I have some...and back, looming behind an open Cherry River Lambic and two dusty bottles of Green Forest Draft, was what he sought. He pulled the mini keg out with a fierce, almost competitive grin and dashed back to the main bar.
Let's see how you handle this, big guy.
Around the bar, slapping the keg onto the counter; by now the dockworkers had noticed the drinking and were placing a few bets, the nominal value of which rose considerably when the keg hit the wood. The bard wiped clean the cover and tapped it with a swift slam of a mallet kept under the bar counter for just this sort of thing. Tossing the mallet back, he scanned the glassware - there. The mug he pulled from under the counter was either made for giant kin, dwarven drinking contests, or for surefire alcohol poisoning in any other race. The bucket-sized glass was at least three quarters of an inch thick. He strained himself lifting it one-handed.
The giant man's full attention was on the keg and mug. The bard hauled up the mini keg and rested it on the mug's edge, trying not to grunt with the effort, and let the foamy, deep gold liquid pour in like frothy vengeance. Mug full, he set the keg aside, grinned wide, and pushed the full glass to his customer. He used both hands.
Another hasty dump of coin in another random amount - the big man lifted the mug almost reverently, inhaled, and looked not only pleased but anticipatory. The bard leaned on the edge of the bar and waited. Billy stopped playing; the dockworkers watched.
Only a slight hesitation and the first mighty gulp was taken, the draft vanishing like water off a beach before a tsunami. Not quite half the mug, a heroic effort - the big man set it down with some care, and smiled for the first time. The bard smiled as well. A nod from his patron who chanced rising from the stool to...to...well, whatever he'd meant to do, it was lost as the unleashed power of Dwarf's Head Draft roared through his blood.
In slow motion - one knee sliding in, then the other - the giant landed on the stool in a shrieking protest of wood, unable to keep his feet. The bard grinned and leaned on the bar, humming. There was a sudden flurry of whispers from the tables.
The giant man gave the bard a single nod, then stared at the mug of draft. He lifted it again, sucked in a breath, and slammed it back, not dropping it down until nothing remained but tendrils of foam. There were a few muted cheers as he put both hands on the bar and yanked himself off the stool - sliding down to one knee almost immediately and landing flat on his rear with a burp.
Money changed hands. The man hauled himself ever so slowly up and pointed to the mug again as he wobbled back onto the stool.
Ooookay.
The bard took a nearly empty bottle of Silver Buckle gin, his house specialty, and emptied into an oversized shotglass. He tapped the keg into the mug, and in full view of the big man, tipped the generous shot in as well. The next round of bets swept the room as the giant pulled the mug toward him with exaggerated care, lifting it with both hands this time. He gulped - again, not quite half - and set it down, blinking.
Nothing happened for a few seconds and the other patrons whooped or groaned depending on their bet - then, with comedic grace, the giant slipped from his now splayed stool and thumped flat to the floor. Leaning over to look, the bard continued to hum.
The giant lay there for a good two minutes. He rolled to his side and sat up with both hands on the curled edge of the bar, legs wobbling, but with a heave and a grunt he pulled himself back up into his seat, then out of it, drifting left right and center as he overcorrected for the now-spinning room. The glass winked tauntingly under the magical light of the statues capping the edges of the bar and the giant man glared at it. Pulled the mug closer with slow-reacting hands. Grunted in an almost adversarial way, pounded the bar top once with his closed fist - determination, not aggression - and lifted the mug. The dockworkers went crazy, chanting and whooping, with "chug! chug" echoing off the rafters. Even the bard held his breath, wishing he could place a bet of his own - the mug tipped, Dwarf's Head Draft filling the huge mouth - stevedores and cargo haulers turned, watching, the anticipation in the room a vibrant hum in the bard's heart, the mug was returning to the counter empty -
The big guy was going down even as glass hit wood. Two slow wobbles, his cant too far north, the temptation to yell TIMBER was almost overwhelming...men scrambled out of the way as the he came down flat on his back, leaving a number of dents in the floor courtesy of his back-slung weapons. The bard allowed himself a grin - that's one for the Buckle, friend - until a sweet elven voice cut through his victory as a petite elf in white knelt to check the giant man's health, throwing a glare at her husband.
"Andrew! You weren't encouraging him, were you?"
Uhoh...
[SIZE=10]//Apologies for any inconsistencies as I don't have a log and huge thanks to Dubbel, Elly, and Lyle for last night. Chug![/SIZE]
