@Pripovednik@Genni

Geoff looked up at the head dangling from the ceiling with the attitude of a man who's seen it all before and reached over towards the sink. "Sorry about this little fella', looks like we're gonna be needing another burp out of you." He said as his fingers closed around the throat of the baby ice drake. It was lucky for his guests that the local caves held an abundance of the creatures, and that all they needed to sustain themselves was a steady diet of water and puppies. "I'll be sure to add a Dobermann to your bowl tomorrow morning as a special treat."

Stomping up the stairs, wary of leaving Hilda on her own yet again with so many customers in, Geoff quickly made his way straight to Elderi's room. The barman knew the Drum like the back of his hand, even with the multidimensional madness it tried to pull off sometimes, but even if he didn't the blazing light glowing out from under the door was a sure sign he was in the right place.

Kicking open the door, Geoff yanked the ice drake's tail hard, sending a stream of ice shooting into the room, instantly freezing everything in sight. Fiona's blazing inferno was instantly changed into an intricate sculpture, each flame held suspended in a timeless frieze blending into the wall behind her. At the core the petite sprite lay trapped, entombed in her prison as her eyes darted around the room, trying to find a way to escape but finding none.

It took Geoff a moment to realise that Elderi hadn't been alone in the room, and as his eyes settled over the two frozen goddesses a bashful look settled over his face. "Oh dear," he mumbled, unsure what he should do next. He knew any number of spells which could release the deific divas, the real question was should he? From what he'd seen both of the beauties had wicked tempers and the hole ripped in the far wall showed that they probably weren't in the best of moods right now. That, or Elderi had been in the middle of what must've seemed the greatest night of his life.

Bending down the half-troll peered under the bed to where the metamorph was still hiding. "My my my," Geoff began, his voice practically dripping with playful innuendo, "What have you been upto here, my friend? I hope they were both worth it, 'cos this damage is going to cost a pretty penny to repair."

(All speech must be read aloud in a scottish accent)

Tulka pushed against the heavy door, almost tripping over his own boots as he stumbled through the door way and into the tavern.
"Ya wee bastard!"
Adjusting his iron helm so that its nose guard was no longer sitting on his lower lip, Tulka strolled over to the bar. Approaching a stool and straining his neck as he looked upward at its distant leather seat, Tulka let out a soft:
"Bloody hell..."
Planting a foot on the lower beam between the stool feet he tried throwing his arms over the top, looking for grip to pull himself up. Almost smacking his nose off of the thing. When his fingers finally found a solid hold, his foot slipped and he fell backwards onto his arse. Rubbing his lower back, he suddenly leapt forward to stop the stool - that was slowly tipping in his direction - from falling ontop of him.

"Ah ya'shitter!" Driving a shoulder into the stool, he drove it back onto its four legs.

Heading back towards the door he spun on his heels and ran back toward the stool. Flying through the air as he lept up, Tulka noticed a head sticking from between the cielings wooden boards.

"Elderi?"

Distracted by the recognition of his old friend, Tulka fell short of the stool and back onto his arse, sliding into the stools legs. Rubbing his eyes as well as his back once again, he squinted, it was most certianly Elderi.

"What in the nine whores are you doing here?!"

A great rush of wind stroked over Tulkas face as he turned to see a leather padded seat ,shortly followed by 4 long wooden legs, rushing towards his face.

"Oh for fuck..."

Smack

[@pripoviednik]
Upon seeing a head appear between his broadsword1 and and a rather nice looking orcish battle axe soon followed by a rather acrobatic dwarf2. He then begins to stand up. The broad sword catches on fire.
__________________________
1. Which has no real importance to him what so ever,in fact it's not even that sharp. But it does come with a spring based launching system.

2. Guessing from the Scottish.

@SimplyJohn@Pripovednik

(NOTE: It's very important that you read the following speech in a grating, high-pitched cockney accent.)

It was at that moment that the Tavern door burst open, with a pulse of blue energy, at which point the creaky wooden door swung towards the wall and rebounded against it with a loud bang.

"I 'ave come!! I- oi, wot the bloody-" The voice of a dimunitive creature called out as the door swung back into his face. Though it evidently didn't manage to knock him over, it certainly ruined his entrance.

The dimunitive creature decided to heft the door open naturally that time, revealing himself in full; a rather short and stout Goblin-like creature in a spiffy cobbled-together suit, and a top hat worn in a vain attempt to look taller than he is. He grandiosely threw his free hand in the air, thumping his crystal staff on the floor with the other, and even more grandiosely bore his sharpened teeth to the patrons of the tavern.

"Ahem... I 'ave COME!! Yes, me!! Bestaff, King o' de 'Obbes!! Who's da baddest, toughest, smartest, tallest, most mature an' grown-up Wizard-king in da 'ole bloody world?!"

In response to that rhetorical question, he briefly put on an obnoxious high-pitched voice (umm... more so than his regular voice) and said "Oh, I dunno, is it da First Archon?! WRONG!!" He continued, resuming his regular voice and striding forward... as much as he could, what with his girth. "...It's ME!! King Bestaff!"

It was then he noticed the poor sod lying on the floor, who looked like he was even shorter than him. It was difficult to tell, of course, since he was lying down, trapped underneath a huge stool. What kind of heartless bastard makes stools that big, anyway?

But it was of no concern to the diminutive monarch. Summoning his royal authority, he proceeded to jump on top of the man's upper torso, then stepping up to the stool he was trapped under, and finally hopping up to the stool standing next to him.

"Much 'ppreciated, peasant." He thanked the poor sod in a backhanded fashion, before impatiently fidgeting about on his brand new stool.

"'Ey, Landlord!" He shouted out, banging his staff on the bar, causing great 'BWONG' noises to reverberate throughout the building.

"I've come for a glass o' BEER! 'Cuz only real grown-up men drink Beer, yeah? Well, I'm a real grown-up man now, so I want some!"

@HHShetland "'Ey, Landlord! I've come for a glass o' BEER! 'Cuz only real grown-up men drink Beer, yeah? Well, I'm a real grown-up man now, so I want some!"

"Landlord's not here." Called Hilda as she rose up behind the bar, her hand squeezed down between her ample cleavage as she quickly squirreled away the baubles she'd found hidden behind a secret panel beneath the counter lying on the floor, making a mess. "He's off upstairs wrestling a fiery sprite back into her cage... _{lucky bitch...} If you'd like something to drink though I can help you there."

Stepping up close behind the bar the barmaid bent over just far enough to flash her prestigious assets to the new customer, enough to distract him as her talented gaze danced over his diminutive form, pricing up each and every trinket he was carrying before welcoming him with a beaming grin. "We offer a wide selection of beers, both lagers, stouts, ciders and ales. Personally I'd recommend the Nether Scrapings,"¹ The tavern wench expounded, gesturing to the pump handles set beside her. The one she was talking about seemed to have a thin layer of dust covering it, as though it hadn't been used in a while. Since it was the cheapest beer on tap at the Drum, and the foulest flavoured, there was no surprise in that.

"It has a unique flavouring to it that only the wisest, most handsome and richest can truly appreciate. To everyone else it taste like the stuff the pigs leave behind after eating their swill." It was an old trick, but a good one. Telling a person that only if they're worthy will something be wonderful always had them swearing the stuff was divine, even as they fought against their own gag reflex trying to keep the stuff down.

_{1 - A rare ale brewed by the hermit monks of the local monastery only once a year, just after their annual bath.}

@SimplyJohn

King Bestaff continued to fidget about somewhat incessantly on his stool as he waited for someone to respond to his demands; that was how you ordered in a pub, right? Shouting out at the top of your voice in a very manly manner?

Unfortunately for the little pointy-eared, malodorous monarch, a figure that he guessed was a big, grown-up human woman soon appeared out of nowhere, and he was immediately distracted by... the weird fleshy things attached to her chest.

For you see, Hobbes, as a whole, have no dirty urges to speak of thanks to their perpetual physical (and mental) immaturity, and therefore the Hobbes are somewhat more progressive than many human societies. To them, Men and Women are basically the same, just one generally has less body hair than the other. There was a small minority of Hobbes that refused to eat the flesh of Women out of fear they would get Cooties, the deadliest disease of all, but Bestaff obviously aimed to put a stop to such blatant sexism.

The only exception to all this, it seemed, were the 'chest-melons', considered a sort of weird curiosity, like a three-headed banana. It was only inevitable that Bestaff would find himself staring inquisitively at them, frowning and with one brow raised as he examined the strange sight, her voice reduced to background noise. It was only after he felt his dried-out tongue twitch that he realised he was supposed to be drinking beer like an adult!

"Eh, wot?" He said, shaking his head about a little.

"Sorry, I wasn't listenin', those things attached to yer chest are pretty bloody bouncy, like peach balloons." He informed her, bluntly, in the same sort of manner someone might talk about an impressively strange Circus sideshow. "Y'know, I 'eard from some bloody peasants back at my cave that those things carry Cooties, but dat can't be true, can it? I mean, 'Obbe medical science is in a right 'orrible state thanks to FORMER King Jimbo Junior, who I single-'andedly overthrew in glorious fashion!"

Naturally, he couldn't help but grandiosely raise one hand to the air when making his declaration of superiority, but stopped just afterward and adjusted his dirty-cloth-cut-out-to-resemble-a-fancy-tie, refocusing his chronically underdeveloped mind to try and remember that vague background noise from earlier.

"Anyway, uh... ya were sayin' summat about beer, yeah? Listen, Madam wotsyername, I don't care what kinda beer, just get me any beer. Money's no object; I am the bloody KING, after all!"

It took Geoff a moment to realise that Elderi hadn't been alone in the room, and as his eyes settled over the two frozen goddesses a bashful look settled over his face. "Oh dear," he mumbled, unsure what he should do next. He knew any number of spells which could release the deific divas, the real question was should he?

Trapped inside the ice Astrape could feel her power growing, the fresh snack of the car battery giving her more than enough juice to start boiling the ice away from her skin, and soon wisps of steam began to leak out of the growing cracks as the ice began to weaken. Bronte on the other hand felt no need to break out. The air prison felt like a welcoming cocoon keeping the world at bay as she began to fall into a deep restful sleep.

Suddenly the glacier holding Astrape shattered, scattering chunks of frozen water outward in a flurry of steam and snowflakes. Taking a moment to gather herself, with the last of the ice boiling to steam against her skin, Astrape glared over at the foolhardy barman as he stood holding the ice dragon under his arm, almost but not quite pointing it in her direction.

"You bloody fool!" She muttered through gritted teeth as lightning began to bristle around her, "You could've killed me!" She knew that he knew she was overstating things considerably with her statement, after all he'd already seen her blown up by seafood induced anaphylactic shock and recover, so why would a little ice do her any harm, but in the heat of the moment she wanted him to know how angry she really was with him, and 'You might've gotten me a little chilly' didn't sound quite as good.

Upon seeing a hobble1 bearing the marks of nobility2 Avery does a slight bow, does a small magic trick which he utterly fails at then tosses the hobble two gold Druma as he shouts about him wanting bear. The fire spreads to the area around the sword3.
__________________________
1. As the hobble are one of the few races to prove john of doe's theory of catapult long distance travel it is no great surprise to see them on the misty isles.

2. Mainly claiming (quite loudly) to be king.

3. Just going to note here Avery stood up before it started on fire and thus he did not notice the fire start.

Elderi awoke to the most peculiar feeling. His bottom half felt like an ice yeti had just sat on him , while his head and torso felt like a magma golem was breathing upon them. Opening his eyes narrowly, his vision blurry and unfocused he saw a flickering of light to his left. Turning his neck slowly he noticed a growing flame.

"Oh nononono!" he yelped.

Pursing his lips he blew at the flames hoping they would go out - whooow.

whow. whooow. WHOOOOW!

Blowing desperately he felt like a Hildari whore! The flames licked his ear and he shifted himself into a metal form. Stupidly he chose to shift into Eastern silver, one of the heaviest metals around. A creaking and cracking later, the ceiling collapsed and Elderi fell to the floor, smashing the floor boards and landing on the solid stone foundation. A great cry came from above as Astrape and the Keeper Geoff fell through the hole Elderi had left and landed upon him, in that order.

"I will pay for this. I will." he said.@Genni@SimplyJohn

Astrape squirmed a little under the heavy barman, not wanting to disturb the man too much as a certain part of him was pressing against a certain part of hers in such a way as to not feel too bad at all. In fact it felt pretty good. Moving her hips a little to get better friction she began to grind her part of her anatomy against it, letting the sensation fill her up inside as she let herself be overwhelmed.

Across the room Bronte lifted her head for a moment, her dazed eyes scanning the scene, taking in the sight of her sister pinned between the rocky half-troll and the metal man before sighing despondently and slipping back to sleep on the surprisingly intact bed. "Just make sure you remember to use protection this time." She bellowed as her eyes fluttered closed. "We don't want to have to wipe out another village of your offspring, do we?"

Suddenly Astrape realised there was someone underneath her and shifting her buttocks aside she realised her metal hunk's face had been buried beneath them. "Oh, I'm so sorry," The lightning goddess said quickly, removing her hand from Geoff's bulging coinpurse as she quickly clambered out from under him. "I didn't realise you were down there."

@Pripovednik@Genni

Rising to his full height for a moment wondered why he felt so violated, until her realised exactly where the lightning wench's hand had just been. Quickly he checked his money purse, counting the coins with his fingers, but luckily they were still all there. Eyeing the goddess suspiciously Geoff set the baby ice drake aside and reached out for his stave.

As soon as it arrived in his hand Geoff held the lump of wood high over his head and concentrated, a bright light pulsing from the tip of his staff which seemed to envelope the whole room. Slowly at first, but soon gaining momentum, the fragments of the floor, ceiling, furniture and one unfortunate customer who'd been caught in the collapse all began to knit themselves back together.

With the floor reforming beneath their feet Astrape, Bronte and Elderi found themselves being lifted through the air until finally they were back on the main floor of the tavern, the other customers watching the floorshow with amusement. Apart from the regulars, who'd seen the trick a thousand times before and so instead took the opportunity to gaze in wonder at Hilda's impressive 'accomplishments' instead.

With the light beginning to fade Geoff lowered his stave and glanced around to inspect the repairs. Everything seemed back in order now, except the sword which had been impaled in the ceiling was no where to be seen. Turning his attention to Bronte Geoff screwed up his forehead in confusion as he saw her still lying fast asleep on the bed. "Hmm, that was supposed to go back upstairs..." He mused to himself for a second, before shrugging it off and stepping back towards the bar. "Ahh well, I'll just tell people she's part of the night's entertainment... no, wait, that might not be such a good idea..."

He pushed the door open widely and allowed himself in. The crowd was wildly it seems. That was probably a good sign for a good chin-wag for someone like Himura. This search for a particular someone was tiring after all, even with his skills and abilities. He approached a seat and sat quietly on his own observing the crowd to take it all in.

Tulka awoke from the floor, shaking his head to throw off the feeling of dizzieness he tried lifting his body above his feet, but only fell down again.
"Elderi?" He called out to his friend.
Looking about confused, the shapeshifter had completely disappeared. One second his handsome head is in the ceiling, tongue hanging limpy out of his mouth, neighboured by a huge flaming sword and...

Oh, maybe he had imagined it. It did sound far fetched he had to admit.

Waiting for the static to clear from his mind, Tulka rolled back onto his back, picked his legs up into the air, and threw his legs forward again. For a merry few seconds Tulka swung upright and stood on his feet, but just as pride threatened to form around his growing smile, he started to fall again forward this time. Throwing his arms out, he hit the floor with a crunch and screamed out in fright.

"I've fuckin broke something, I can feel it moving inside me! Ah shit it, by me mother it hurts!" he yelled.

Feeling around his chest he felt the loose bone...in his pocket?

Reaching in he gripped both peices and pulled them up to his face.

"Ohhhh"

He had been wondering where that carrot had gone.

Opening the bottle of extract with a flourish Avery Vanderson passes the bottle around the table saying "anyone want another round of extract" then hearing a crash he turns in his chair seeing that the ceiling had collapsed spreading a fire across the floor of the bar.

Stepping out into the lounge Geoff had had enough. "Alright the lot of you, last orders!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs. It was still quite early, but with the walls and floors of his prized establishment already blown apart half a dozen times the barman was willing to call it a night.

The golden twinge of the dawn sun had just appeared over the horizon as he stepped into the vicinity of the tavern's exterior, Archibald saw that a variety of colorful characters had begun to pour out of the late-night watering hole.




"Come on." he said as he motioned for the rest of his squadron to follow him. Lieutenant Watson made his way through the motley crowd while getting mixed looks of confusion, disgust, and spite. It seemed clear that some of the bunch didn't want the eye of the law to catch a good look at them. He slung his carbine and entered into the doorway followed by the five men in the recognizable bright-red coats of the Royal Military.

"Good morning, sir! Does your bar take kindly to the likes of a couple of red bastards such as ourselves?" he inquired to the half-troll behind the counter.