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NotFishing

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"If he knew you would go and murder a bear cub, then he probably wouldn't heal you. Gnomes never did appreciate needless destruction or harm to wildlife." Gleaf admitted. His glass of water arrived, and he took a sip. "My name is Gleaf."

Then the door burst open, and in walked another gnome. He was essentially a younger version of Gleaf - same height, early thirties, same eyes, lighter hair without any grey, healthier complexion, even his clothes were the same, although his were much cleaner. But the most notable feature of all was the permanent smile plastered onto his face, and the air of confidence.

Walking as though he was six feet tall, he made his way over to Gleaf and pulled himself up onto the stool next to him. "Gleaf!" He greeted cheerfully. Then he looked past him, and at the Viking. "Who is your friend?" Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

09-Jun-2016 01:11:02

D F Angel

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"Ah, I'm no real killer. This thing 'round my neck was a fluke, but being a bear-killer is all I am, now. Harmless jests, and all that..." His seeing double had turned to seeing quadruple, and two of the two were moving independently of the other two. It took Ormund a few moments to understand that it was the younger brother who had entered, the so-called healer.

"I'm just an old bore," admitted Ormund to the new gnome, before he turned to his side and saw that quite literally an old boar had turned up to the bar. "Well ain't you a pretty sight!" He declared loudly to the man that was a pig, waving him over with his glass of ale, spilling half of it on the stool next to him. "I sense a night to remember ahead of us, lads. That I do, indeed." Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

09-Jun-2016 01:16:16

Venom1383

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The Pigman took a seat at the bar next to the two gnomes, still brooding. "Ha, very funny." He scowled. "Just need to get hammered drunk right 'bout now." He began that sentence with a depressed tone, and oinked the last two words. Ramsay Bolton is the king we deserve.

09-Jun-2016 01:22:21

NotFishing

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Gleaf's younger brother, Dobbin, looked at the pigman with something akin to concern. "Brighten up!" He said in an upbeat tone. "You're alive, you apparently have money, and you look healthy - and if you aren't I could probably help you with that. I am a healer."

Gleaf sighed - he had almost forgotten how annoying his brother's optimism could be at times. Then he looked to the Watcher. "Still interested in having that leg of yours looked at?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

Dobbin immediately turned his head. "What leg?" He asked. "I can help!" Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

09-Jun-2016 01:27:53

D F Angel

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The Watcher slung his left leg forwards. It had been shattered somewhere along the shin-bone, clearly, and two wooden planks were tied together at either side, that fitted in to a wooden board at the base of his thread-bare boot, (which revealed frostbitten toes,) to make some form of replacement weight-bearer.

"You soun' like the company for me," Ormund said to the pigman. "These two don't know a good brew if it hit 'em over the head with magic volleyballs."

--

The nondescript barman was down in the basement, looking for more barrels to replace the empty ones upstairs.

"They're empty sir!" Cried out a fearful glass collector. The barman sighed, shaking his head, and cut the woman's throat. He dipped the blood-soaked dagger into the last dregs of a casket and gave a chant, then removed his dirtied apron before returning upstairs with drinks for the pigman, as down below his creation began to rise... Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

09-Jun-2016 01:33:31

Venom1383

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The Pigman looked up to see Ormund's mangled leg. A gruesome sight indeed, but the pig didn't flinch. "Hmph. Magic. Never trustin' any of those sorcerous types again." He turned to Gleaf, who claimed that he was a healer. "A healer, eh? Ya think ya could heal this?" He waved to his face, but didn't sound optimistic.

When the Barman returned with his drink, the Pigman took it gladly. He sniffed the mug with his snout, paused for a few heartbeats, then oinked and chugged it, streams of mead running down the hairs of his chinny chin chin. Ramsay Bolton is the king we deserve.

09-Jun-2016 01:41:32

NotFishing

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"No, my brother said he was a healer..." Gleaf said with a quizzical expression on his face. "But what do you mean by that? Are you simply referring to your sadness, or did you not look like that before?"

Dobbin, meanwhile, climbed down from his stool and turned his attention to the Watcher's injury. He held his hands over the leg and closed his eyes, but nothing happened - it was actually a spell he knew to find out the extent of the injury before he tried to heal it. Once he knew what the problem was, he opened his eyes, hovered his hands over the area where the bone was broken, and focused.

White light began to flow from his hands into the man's leg. He would feel his shinbones shift, attempting to merge back together, although surprisingly enough he would feel no pain from the process. The real question was: would it work?

-----

((Whether or not the spell works is up to you, Angel.)) Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

09-Jun-2016 01:49:01 - Last edited on 09-Jun-2016 01:53:34 by NotFishing

D F Angel

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The leg craaaacked inwards on itself, and the wooden fastenings clunked to the floor. The swelling in the foot went down, and what remained of the boot fell to pieces with a pitiful **** .

"Well I never," said the man in wonderment, flopping off of his barstool and testing his leg out. "It feels as fit as it did when I was thirty!" He announced with joy, and gave a little jig to testify such joy- the sort of jig one would expect from a drunken homeless man who had been driven half-mad by starvation, frosty nights and lonely days.

"In fact, I think its working better than my other leg, mayhaps I'll have to break it again," he gave a chuckle at that and regained his seat. "These gnomes are respectable gentlemen," he said sarcastically to the barmen. "Fetch them up some wine."

He turned once more to the pigman. "I feel ya there, squealer. Did I ever tell ye how I got this cloak?" He threw a thumb back at the bear pelt, grinning.

---

The barman went down once again, this time to grab some wine as requested. Already a beer elemental floated above the scene, magically refilling the empty caskets, and another was spawning from the dagger. The bartender seized the weapon and walked about the room, adding the blood to this and that concoction, before seizing the wine and taking it back up to present to the tea-total gnomes. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

09-Jun-2016 01:57:41

Venom1383

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"Nope. I was born a pretty good-lookin' bloke, I'll tell ya." The Pigman chuckled, and then became sullen again. Then he began to tell his story. "I was tending my wheat field when I saw somethin' buried in the mud. Looked red and shiny. I dug it up, and whaddaya know, it's one of those genie lamps! I know, right? How lucky was I!"

He took a long swig of mead, oinked, and continued. "Of course, you know how tricky those muppets are. Always twisting around your wishes so you get shafted in the end." Ramsay Bolton is the king we deserve.

09-Jun-2016 02:10:40 - Last edited on 09-Jun-2016 02:11:01 by Venom1383

NotFishing

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Gleaf's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you know how tricky they are, why did you make a wish? And what did you say to get a pig head?"

Meanwhile, Dobbin backed off and wiped some sweat from his brow, but grinned triumphantly as his work was successful. He did a little happy dance of his own along with the drunkard's jig, before returning to his stool. Then he looked at the pigmen. "I don't know if I can undo a genie's curse..." Dobbin confessed. "But look on the bright side..."

Dobbin's voice trailed off, as he tried to think of the possible benefits to having a pig's head. "You're unique?" Was all he could really come up with. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

09-Jun-2016 02:19:57

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