Elderi had been walking without rest for many hours. His legs tired, his eyes heavy and the belief in his next step wavering. Thankfully a dull light was blazing in the distance. A fire of some sort, perhaps civilized people...

After a minute of hope, the flame was doused or simple died away, Elderi was unsure. But still, he marched on in the same direction it had once glowed. The dirt track widened as his feet met a more solid road, somehow this comforted him. A tavern of sorts was further up the road, a small wisp of smoke rising from trees there.

When finally Elderi reached the Tavern he noticed a pile of ash, hay and straw - this explained the flames he had seen. Probably a mishap of some chore-boy sent to tend a horse, or something along those lines.

Taking his hammer in both hands he smacked it firmly into the pile, creating shovel like forms with his hands, he buried it beneath. He would usually carry it, but since he doubted there were any hooks or racks strong enough to hold its weight inside, he thought this place as good as any other.

As he did so he sang with his soft elven voice:

Oh, Orodo the mighty man
struck foes down with ease
Oh, Orodo the mighty man
cut them down by their knees
Oh, Orodo the mighty man
a mighty man was he
But, Orodo the mighty man
stank foul and had fleas.

Smiling at the distant memory of songs sang long ago in the arena, his hands return to there 5 fingered state.

Elderi pushed the door open and walked into the tavern, closing the door behind him before turning to the room - as was custom in Dogrogudor. Taking his heavy belt from his waist and lifting it up over his head - his biceps tensing up as he heaved it - Elderi placed it on the rack that was by the door. Turning around, he looked at the menu the was nailed into the wall with a huge and rusty bolt.

Since reaching the oh-so obvious conclusion that he was trapped in some kind of Truman Show, if he knew who Truman was, Tongzka had chosen to cower in a dingy bathroom.

For you see, the Party had reach everywhere, and that includes the media. Tongzka knew all too well how far their iron tentacles that is their influence reached; after all, he'd studied them. He had always suspected in those hours spent at the wonderful, shiny People's Canteens and playing state-approved video games depicting top-hatted executives getting thrown into meat-grinders that maybe the Party might have had something special lined up for him, the one who chose to quit for reasons even he isn't sure of. It was such a long time ago, after all. In any case, it would be no surprise if the Party had planned to trap him in some kind of televised hell. The worst kind of hell, considering that actual hells didn't exist, being an element of bourgeouis church institutions and whatnot.

It was after a good five minutes of being curled up in the corner of the stinking bathroom, clutching his thermal lance tight, that he decided that maybe he was acting rather pitifully and undignified. Cowering in a medieval bathroom is not the way of the Bardovan worker! The real Bardovan worker faces his fate with bold ingenuity! If the Party were behind this, they'd want him to cower here!

Thus, he stood up to his glorious height of three feet (not counting neck), slung his thermal lance on his back, cracked his tiny knuckles, rolled his brain around in his head... figuratively, of course... and burst out the bathroom, back into the mysterious studio set.

Once again, he pattered over to the front bar, confidently sliding on to the barstool this time. He realised by now that there was a simulated language barrier with some elaborate ConLang, probably to make his ordeal even more insane. But he would overcome it! How?

@SimplyJohn

First, he knocked on the bar loudly, calling out "D're-keh-b'visk! D're-keh-b'visk!" and signalling for the apparent giant bartender. What he needed was some coffee, and surely he'd know the universal symbol for coffee...

Tongzka removed his Thermal Lance from his back again, using the unlit nozzle to scratch out an image on the bar. An image of a mug, turned sideways, with what resembled a rainbow coming out of it. Hyperspace-in-a-mug, you see.

"...Hyp'n-ka'prun at maag, yat?"

@HHShetland "D're-keh-b'visk! D're-keh-b'visk! ...Hyp'n-ka'prun at maag, yat?"

As the strange little creature hollered at him Geoff turned to see what the problem was. "Can I help you, Sir?" he asked as politely as he could, but the creature didn't seem to be listening. Instead Geoff watched as Tongzka carefully crafted his little sign in the bartop before smiling with comprehesion.

"Ahh.. I have just the thing..." Reaching over to a cabinet set beside the bar the half-troll pulled out a mug which seemed hauntingly similar to the one the little alien had just drawn. Setting it carefully down in front of Tongzka Geoff turned towards the rack of bottles stacked up behind him, snatching half a dozen seemingly at random before lining them up beside the mug.

With great care and precision Geoff measured out several quantities of each concoction, adding them one by one to the mug, which soon began to sizzle and fizz as the chemicals reacted with one another, turning the drink, or at least Tongzka hoped it was a drink, first green, then blue and finally bright fluorescent pink. With the last bottle Geoff reached down beneath the counter and pulled out a teardropper. Carefully extracting a single drop of the strangely viscous semi-liquid he held the teardropper out at arms length and added the final ingredient.

A silence fell over the room, as if all noise had suddenly been sucked away, only to return a second later in cacophonous wave which threatened to deafen anyone too close. The glowing pink mixture in the mug leapt into the air, scattering in all directions before freezing and reversing its motion falling back into the mug leaving only a ripple in the deep black liquid's surface as a small wisp of steam rose from it calmly.

"One black coffee, hold the sugar..." Geoff said sliding the mug over the table to his alien guest. "That'll be two coppers."

Elderi walked over to the busy bar, having not found anything to his liking on the menu drinks-wise. Sitting upon a stool, Elderi's hand became a small hammer and he knocked three times on the bar top, each bellowing a loud thud. The room smelled very strange, and a static of electricity seemed to hold the very air together.

@SimplyJohn

The half-troll before him was large. Perhaps a veteran warrior, he would of made an excellent opponent in the arena. Though he would probably have been a bit of a handful, at least while Elderis hands were this size. Many others were among the patrons of the tavern but Elderi was not one too speak without being spoken too.

He, however, would brake this rule to say " A plate of your special, and your finest whispering wine! " as he was hungrier than a Jarkuller Monstrosity. His hands shifted back to normal.

Licking her lips with anticipation Astrape lifted her tankard with both hands, tilting it slightly to make sure the sparkling metal rods didn't go up her nose, as they had one time before much to the amusement of her sister.

With one, long gulp she emptied the container down her throat, swizzlers and all, and felt the mixture fizzling in her belly. Placing the tankard back on the counter Astrape reached out her hand, marvelling as the electric arched between her fingers.

"Right," she cried out with excitement, as she jumped off of her stool to face the rest of the tavern patrons angrily, "Where'd that trash talking little imp go?"

Clark glared at the creature eating the rocks and calling him brother. He did not know this thing rock munching before him and so they were definitely not brothers.

He addressed the creature roughly, "Look 'buddy', thats rocks your eating, nobody eats rocks. I can understand eating brownies, everyone is supposed to eat brownies. Get it?" He asked dangerously, as he raised his eyebrows.

Tongzka watched intently as the giant went about his business, his attempt at ingenuity actually having worked! Well, of course it did, Tongzka smirked to himself as he re-assured... himself. That's where one of the special universities will get you.

Of course, such smug individualist pride was bound to warrant some form of karmic retribution. Once Tongzka had become entranced with the very convincing light show the neanderthal put on from the mug (though to be honest, he'd seen better from the Jairovi), his focus and, to a lesser extent, his circulatory system were both in for a nasty surprise when the liquid seemed to EXPLODE out the top, deafeningly so.

"AIEEE!!" He shrieked, toppling onto the floor. The sight that greeted him when he came to his senses was, while still not as good as the Jairovi's handiwork, still good enough to warrant a "...Tun in'kraas Bardovaz Porz'l-pehteh..." in sheer awe.

Once it was all over with, Tongzka clambered back onto his stool and was surprised to see that, after all of that, he was still going to get coffee and not some kind of hallucinogenic. "Uh... miz scut'l-grad, uh... Nutovaz-avee." He thanked the giant, already scrambling to down the whole mug in one go.

@SimplyJohn

It was then he noticed the giant's outstretched hand, combined with a remark he couldn't understand but made it quite clear he was expecting something. Perhaps... the 'M' word?

"N... Nevi-z'wez-ma?" The longshoreman hesitated; the term he used wasn't even the 'm' word itself, just a euphemism. Some 'necessary evils', his kind would usually say when they expected payment. 'Oh, how much is that?' 'Just five necessary evils, thanks!' 'Here you go, my good man! Make sure you didn't ask for more than your planetary share or the Party will be pissed!'

"Ah!" He finally vocalised, remembering that he did have some necessary evils on him, by sheer luck. He stuffed one hand in his pocket and rummaged around, before bringing out a pair of necessary evils in the form of small credit chits, the most accessible and portable form of necessary evils.

Once that was dealt with, he didn't hesitate. Grabbing the mug of coffee with both hands, he tipped it up into his mouth, gulping it down ravenously, blissfully ignoring the heat. Before he'd even finished, he began to experience that trademark rush of energy, that reactivation of abandoned bodily functions... but then it just kept getting stronger... and stronger, until it reached a very sharp point and something inside Tongzka just... clicked.

"Miz... miz.... MIZ. B'YYN. AYN. DEEZ-MAAT."

...He said somewhat blasphemously, if you happen to be religious, as all of a sudden his voice took on an echo-y quality, and his eyes starting glowing like the headlights on a car, rapidly changing colours. Inside, he was overwhelmed with sheer focus... his focus was so great, it seemed to penetrate reality itself. He was focused on the collective unconscious beyond reality that connects all minds and experiences, or something similarly hard-to-understand.

In this trance like state, he began to move his arms around in a robotic fashion, leaving behind multicoloured trails as he did so. He tapped along the bar, creating glowing 'buttons' in the process, and created ethereal music from beyond space and time, as if he was playing the keyboard of the Big One. The One in charge of the big game he now realised he was in. He saw everything. There was no conspiracy, no reality show, no giant, no Party, no tavern, no nothing. Nothing except a series of words describing everything he was doing. He and everyone else were just hollow imitations of people dumped into a space they don't belong, like the rubbish tip of the cosmos where everything without a home gets thrown away, to act out a random sequence of events for all eternity, all for the enjoyment of...

But then, just as he was getting into it, his coffee-induced high wore off almost as abruptly as it had begun, and Tongzka came back to his senses, returning to normal both in body and mind... and toppling back again.

"Eggghhhh..." He grunted to himself, desperately trying to remember what Interdimensional Travel Quarterly said about drinking coffee from another dimension... you may very well be unable to comprehend how strong it may be. After all, it was a weird brown colour, not the blue-black he was used to.

Domaku looked down at the man who just said that he wasn't supposed to eat rocks he then started to laugh out loud and stomped his foot a bit. "You do realize that I'm a Goron right Brother?" Domaku asked him as he wiped a tear from his face from laughing so hard. "Gorons live off rocks, it's what we eat!" He said as he took another bite of the rock. "You really need to get out more Brother, learn about the races of the world!" Domaku said with a smile on his face again. He took a sip of the new drink that was giving to himself. "This is good stuff!" He said to the bartender.

Thasseldar took a long look at the drink. He had been across many dimensions... and seen many strange things. He didn't have the foggiest idea what it was.

Judging from the reaction that had just played out down the bar, something quite strong... he decided to take a chance.

He stuck a few gold coins on the counter and quickly drunk the contents of the drink, quickly bringing the cup down on the table. That wasn't too... err...

For a movement, his human form completely dissolved, revealing his natural body structure and armor worn from hundreds of years of travel and wear. He slammed his head on the table as it completely distorted his thoughts, and he inadvertently summoned a chicken as random thoughts ran through his head...

A minute later, he regained control, casually restoring his human form and completely ignoring the chicken that was striding towards Tongzka.

"Hmm... I think I'll have one more."

Glaring around the room Astrape couldn't see the imp anywhere, not that the streaks of lightning flashing from her eyes made seeing anything any easier. "Where are you, Imp?" She called, stomping forwards angrily, "We have a fight to finish, don't worry it'll all be over in a flash!"

Her voice was reverberating strangely as she spoke,m the barely contained energies inside her echoing around in what passed for her lungs. Suddenly she heard a strange clucking sound behind her and spun, ready to attack, "Ah-ha! I found you!" She screamed loudly, a blot of lightning jumping from her hands, striking the chicken right between the eyes.

For a millisecond all that went through the creature's mind was 'Oh no, not again,' just before its body was instantly roasted, collapsing back onto a serving platter fortuitously placed on the counter top by Geoff only a moment before. As the chicken carcass lay there, gently sizzling in its roasted skin, Astrape collapsed onto a nearby bar stool andslumped over the bar.

Lifting one hand weakly the lightning goddess waved over towards the half-troll barman, "Same again, barkeep."

"Ah!" He finally vocalised, remembering that he did have some necessary evils on him, by sheer luck. He stuffed one hand in his pocket and rummaged around, before bringing out a pair of necessary evils in the form of small credit chits, the most accessible and portable form of necessary evils.

Taking the offered scraps of metal Geoff looked at them uncertainly for a moment, watching them change colour as he shifted them about in his hand. They certainly weren't any currency he'd seen before, but that shouldn't be a problem if they were worth anything.

Clicking his fingers Geoff summoned his financial advisor and a moment later she appeared standing on the bar in her full 4" glory. For a moment Marcie stared up at Geoff with a dull, slightly annoyed expression before pulling her miniature bath towel more snuggly around her body, "Wha' th' hella' y' wan'?" She mumbled around the toothbrush sticking out from the side of her mouth. "Ca't y' s' I wa' bus'?"

"Got something strange for you to check out for me," Geoff said, placing the unusual coins down on the counter in front of Marcie, who immediately bent over to inspect them. As she shuffled around, carefully examining the markings on the surface, Geoff found himself having to turn his gaze away, Marcie's miniature towel seeming a little too miniature to him as her plump rear rose up in front of him.

Finally the 4" financier stood back up straight and glared up at Geoff with the same ice-cold look she'd given him before. "S' goo'," She muttered, "Wor' leas' fort' gol' eac'."

"Forty gold each?" Geoff asked, a little shocked that the luminous litte discs were worth anything at all.

"Perh's mo' t' collect'." Marcie added, tugging on the towel a little more as a chilly breeze made goosebumps rise all along her thighs. "C' I g' no'?" She asked finally, looking up at Geoff who'd frozen up at the thought of so much money laying in his palm.

Waving his empty hand vaguely Geoff shooed the baker away, "Yeah, yeah, we're good. You still on for Squash Friday?"

"Y'," Marcie replied simply, before vanishing in a puff of green smoke which left Geoff concerned. Marcie only ever used green smoke when she was in a really bad mood, and he'd hate to be the one who'd annoyed her that much.

@ArenaSnow "Hmm... I think I'll have one more."

@Genni "Same again, barkeep."

scooping up the empty tankards Geoff quickly refilled them and placed them back on the counter in front of the two customers. In his head he was keeping tally of the cost of the drinks against the value of the gemstone in his pocket, carefully balancing in a generous service charge at the same time.

The ammonia wasn't hard to come by, but it took a while to get it tasting just right, the way which left your whiskers singed and eyebrows withered. Luckily the barkeep still had another three full barrels fermenting in the back yard, so he could afford to serve generously.

Clark didn't enjoy being laughed at over a simple misunderstanding and so, before the goron even finished speaking he turned away and went to a corner table to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. At least he hoped there would be some here, further away from the barkeep.

That and he was in a testy mood. He tapped his foot at his table, which normally he wouldn't do but in his bad mood he expected the barkeep to come to him and quickly.

grabbing his wine bottle he left the bar. He diddnt know what was happening, he diddnt want to know. He did want to see the man in the corner however. "Hello." he stood at the table. He looked like a fish out of water in this run down bar. He was still wearing his gentlemanly clothing that made him standout as a adventuer. "Room for one more?@Gareth

Elderis right arm shifted into a much larger hammer, more like a mallet. He banged loudly once again on the bar so as to get some attention, all he wanted was a drink and some food. Now that he took the time to look around, everyone in here was certainly unique. Some strange tall creature with shape changing capabilities was sat at the bar as a human, but Elderi could see right through them. He could pick a changling like himself from the crowd and this thing was definitely one. @SimplyJohn@ArenaSnow

A Goron stood laughing and drinking across from him. Elderi had been on the road too long, and had not yet heard news of the on going war between Goron and Maldurion. A surge of urgency overcame him and " How goes the feud brother, has Duggahole been reclaimed? " he asked. @Cuccoruler

Clark turned his gaze away from the barkeep to notice a guy addressing him. He looked an adventurer with the clothes the fellow was wearing and he seemed to be friendly. Somehow even in Clark's foul mood he managed a smile.

Offering a chair to the fellow, "Sure have a seat man. It would be nice to meet someone a bit more civil around here." He stated with a meaningful look towards the Goron.

"Its madness." Placing his wine on the bar and taking a seat "I have been travelling these lands for years. Ever since the Icarus came from the western wastes" he looked his new companion up and down, sizing him up. If there is one thing you learn from the years out there its that a trustworthy person gives off a better vibe. He seemed good enough, he looked like a guy who had seen hell and back and was still standing. He looked like a man who he could fly with and not lose when times get tough. "Times have changed, when we started to fly. The world wasnt as known as it is now." Sipping on his drink "We still fought eachother, but it was over land and who found what first. Things were easier then." sitting back and looking at him from behind his specticals and hat "People were civilised, they were better. If you got in trouble you could bet bottom coin that a guy would have your back. I miss those days"
@Gareth

He tapped his foot at his table, which normally he wouldn't do but in his bad mood he expected the barkeep to come to him and quickly.

Noticing a customer without a drink, and with a full coin purse hanging from his belt, Hilda quickly drifted her way through the crowd to introduce herself to the purse young man with a large weapon. As she turned her back on the gnomes and their strange card game one of the old letches reached and and pinched her bum. Without even breaking her stride Hilda spun on the spot, her leg raised just high enough for her foot to connect with the side of his head before continuing on her way.

Sidling up to the table the barmaid held her tray of empty glasses high on her shoulder and smiled warmly to the newcomer, dropping a wink to the older man he was with who seemed to be nursing a bottle of very expensive wine. "And what can I do for your tonight, my lovely?" SHe said to the coin purse young man.

Elderis right arm shifted into a much larger hammer, more like a mallet. He banged loudly once again on the bar so as to get some attention, all he wanted was a drink and some food.

Turning his attention to the enthusiastic man with the hammer hand Geoff finished polishing the tankard he had been holding and reached up to place it back into the near inexhaustible pile of others hidden away in the storage space above the bar. Tossing his ragged dishcloth over his shoulder the half-troll stepped up in front of Elderi with a fang-toothed smile. "What'll be your poison, my good Sir?"

"What'll be your poison, my good Sir?" - Elderi was glad to be noticed, smiling widely. Poison, hmmm usually I would go for Drofe Snake blood, cuts their nervous down in a heartbeat. But of course the large fellow meant drink.

"Your finest Whispering Wine you happen to have, a Fiery Tongue if not. 45th legion if possible. Oh and a plate of your special, if you would be so kind!"

With this Elderis right hand became normal once more and withdrew to his pocket, picking a platinum coin from the mass of them that sat there, waiting to be spent.
" If you have change that would be agreeable," he remarked as he placed it on the table, the arena crest up. @SimplyJohn

Elderis right hand began to elongate, his fingers melding into one another and his auburn skin melting away to a cold steel. The tip of the blade sharpened and took the form of a dart. With but a hairs width of steel holding the dart to the rest of Elderis arm he flicked it behind his shoulder, and watched as it streaked toward the dart board.

To his horror however the dart pinged off the metal rim that circled the bull's-eye, ricocheting off into the tavern in an unknown direct.

Biting his lip and sloping forward onto the bar, his arms returned to their auburn colour and his hands to their 5 digits.

I only hope that didn't hit anyone...

@Pripovednik "Your finest Whispering Wine you happen to have, a Fiery Tongue if not. 45th legion if possible. Oh and a plate of your special, if you would be so kind! If you have change that would be agreeable,"

Geoff sucked air in through his teeth and shook his head in a dismissive manner as he considered the shapeshifter's request, "I do have some Whispering Wine in stock, but only the '94 vintage, which isn't particularly good stuff to be honest, and none of the Fiery Tongue right now. Could I tempt you with some '63 Howling Blood instead? It has the same fruity bouquet as the Whisper while sharing a spicy kick reminiscent of the Tongue."

As he spoke Geoff knelt down behind the bar and groped around near the floor before pulling out a dusty old bottle of thick red wine. Holding it over the counter for Elderi to examine for himself. "Either way it'll be a silver piece for a glass, or two gold for the bottle." For a moment Geoff's eyes darted down towards the rare and precious coin being offered in payment and doing some quick calculations in his head he nodded with a smile, "And I should have no problem making change for you either, as long as you don't mind taking gemstones."

As Tongzka laid on the primitive wooden floor, groaning to himself, it was then he realised he had a serious case of post-high hunger. The inside of his throat felt dry and barren, and his stomach rumbled like an earthquake. Not literally, of course, though the mistake is easier to make considering the differences between Bardovan and non-Bardovan biology, as just evidenced by the effects of strong non-Bardovan coffee on him.

The Bardovans are notoriously intolerant to even small amounts of caffeine, and the Party knew this all too well. Thus, they are practically an entire race of insomniacs, and are usually expected to spend the entirety of their weekly day off sleeping. But Tongzka was bad even by his race's standards. His penchant for caffeine meant he often stayed awake for weeks, if not months, at a time. Now he probably wouldn't get any sleep until next year. He had barely blinked since he'd toppled over. Though it was not entirely out of the question that consuming the drink had caused some kind of interdimensional paradox, which would explain the music and lights and whatnot.

Another stomach rumble reminded the dockworker that he was supposed to be thinking about food, instead of thinking about stuff he already knew, as if he was inaudibly explaining things to an invisible audience or something. The good news was, a few minutes after he'd first toppled over, he heard a rather numbed but still vaguely distinguishable 'ZAP', followed by the wafting stench of a cooked Cal-av'dovsk.

"Ugghh... Cal-av'dovsk?!" He blurted out, jumping to his feet and dashing over to the source of the delicious stench. However, to his dismay, when he arrived and clambered up to the bar for the third time to have a look at it, he realised it wasn't Cal-av'dovsk at all. Though it was certainly on a platter and resembled a roasted Avian closely enough, it looked more like some kind of Teh-r'xu.

"Heh, yuut und'o-laak..." He half-lamented as he grabbed the roasted bird with both hands and began to shove the whole thing into his mouth. Like a Snake, to use a metaphor a mere human would understand, his mouth stretched open and he swallowed the whole thing... whole. It got smaller and smaller as it slid down his long neck, his strong saliva dissolving it, until it was gone.

It was then he noticed the humanoid robot (@Pripovednik) sitting next to him. He could tell it was a robot from the way its arm shapeshifted into a metallic stump with a dart on the end, but the sight nonetheless made him raise one half of his brow and glare at the android for a few moments.