As for Joe, I hope he meant this coming Saturday, at the latest, and not last Saturday, at the latest. After all, the vagueness of his post permits
any Saturday to be, "up by the latest." As for you, Lore, "nothing substantial" means that your post has no substance, so give it substance by making a post where your character does something. As for Deja, I think Joe beat you to the last slot, although maybe you could show up later if one of us dies.
In any case, I think we should wrap up the tavern shenanigans in the next two post cycles. Grommy is already sleeping, so Lord is probably bored out of his mind by now, being forced to read our narrations without the right to write his own. On to Zimmy:
"Doomed, eh?" Zimnis said to himself, staring off at the curtains with a drunk stupor as he continued, "I dun't mind bad omens, to tell no lie. They force ye' ta think twice before ye' take a step, and give ye' the mind to defy them good-fir nothin' gods..." He paused after thinking about what he just said, but was distracted by thought tangents while doing so. After a long pause, he turned back around and chuckled, leaning in towards the bartender as he commented, "y'know, it couldn't hurt to sleep in security tonight. I'll take a room, two gold pieces, was it?" [Barter check, whether for greed or forgetfulness]
Zimnis then reached into his gold pouch, disappointed at its lack of fullness, and pulled out the required sum. Immediately, he flinched from the sudden presence of the cloaked, stinky individual and turned his attention momentarily to the fellow. Zimnis could barely pay attention to the bombardment of questions due to his drunkness, but managed to store a few in his short-term memory well enough to remember them by the time the fellow was done. With a mixed expression, suspicion and curiosity hidden beneath a bubbly, warm smile, Zimnis commented, "my oh my, I never thought anyone'd be cu'rious enough to 'nquire to me abut life's subtleties. Now, y'see, that right there, [he points to the ale] that's what the more cheerful sorta' dwarves call 'liquid gold.' Because it's refined enough in flavour an' cheeriness ta' be worth its weight in gold!"
Zimnis then paused, took the key from the barkeep, and thought hard for a second, trying to remember another question from the fellow. He then remembered, and his expression lit up again as he chuckled softly, looking back over to Haiaen as he continued to speak. "As fir' Lindir an' I, we aren't givin' adventures. No sir. We 'll 'unly just got here! But ye' can be dam'ed well assured that we'll be on hot on de' trail of the first noble quest we chance upon." He chuckled once more, more heartily, after his words, then quickly shot up from his seat and steadied himself with his staff before rightly toppling over. "Whed'r or not that quest involves munsters, as ye' said, is entirely up te' chance. I'd like te' avoid gettin' my arse ripped off and upchucked at me by a giant lizard, if at all possible."
Zimnis attempted to spin around to face the robed figure as he spoke, often stumbling due to his own drunkenness. Before the figure finished talking, Zimnis felt the need to stop spinning due to his drunkenness, and started walking towards the staircase on the other side of the room, speaking as he went. "Ahh, speaking of pain, I'm far m're tired than I thought I was. My apologies, friendome, but I'd best continue this speakidoo tomorrow." He then mumbled to himself various things such as, "curse the dan' boat," and "missed the third button" as he continued towards the stairs.
He then hobbled up the stairs and over to the door to his room. The Gnome checked both ways before unlocking the padlocked door, then waltzed in, locked the door behind himself, and unloaded his baggage, ready for a secure and thief-free night of rest. As he lay his head down on the luxurious down-filled pillow, he almost instantly fell asleep. After a minute, all that moved in the room was his beard hair, which was animated by his breath much like his puppets.