(Or, two old men deputize an entire bar to defeat a hearthfire)
For your listening pleasure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YE_ofAg8POY
The tavern is well on it's way into the evening cheer now, with many young men of the working class getting together around the tables and drinking their worries away. Takaro sits at the bar, having an animated conversation with Klaus about something. "Yes, the man may have been involved in some kind of magery, I think - though I don't know his name." Takaro says, cupping his chin in his hand. "It's strange, losing your memory like that."
Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap hobbles in on his cane, flip flops smacking and rebounding from the ground below, their rhythmic, or rather, sporadic sounds growing fainter yet more persistent as the loud cobbles from outside are replaced by the hardly waxed wood of the Boar, "...and of course that wafddawweam Cavallari... Cavalleri, whatever his accursed, heathen Vavardi name be, and Dav and the Lord curse it, was always too stubborn and incessant. He thought himself king of all emdewweddooaw theater! Bah!" He stops midrant (he's reached the bar at this point), and scrambled up into a stool next to Takaro, smacking his dry lips and palming around his beltpurse for some silver. When it's evident there is none, he peers towards olivr and snaps, "You! Youthful defaoodvewew! You obviously hold enough coin to laze about taverns doing nothing productive with your life! Buy me a cup of goat's milk! My throat is dry!" And he stares, eyes bugged out, expectantly at Takaro.
Takaro blinks at an extremely ancient man with shocks of white hair, leaning back slightly in surprise. "That... is nostalgic, I think is the word. I don't think anyone's called me youthful in twenty years." He raises a hand nonetheless. "A goat's milk for the man, Klaus." Takaro's command of Lithmorran is, if not stilted, then lacking. "As for lazing about, I can't help but agree. I enjoyed ooedeooememd for, say, half a year. Now it is stifling." He raises his cup of coffee to an extremely ancient man with shocks of white hair. "You, on the otherhand, seem downright energetic. Do you have some secret?" He asks politely.
"Bathing, my benighted new advooaemdamde!" Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap well near shouts as he grabs the cup from Takaro and downs the milk, his Adam's apple grotesquely visible through the frail and tender flesh of his shrimpy neck, "So many disapprove of it, and so many die! But it is perfectly harmless, I assure you. Why, just this decade I've taken ten showers and not felt any worse for wear!" [Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap]
A loud screech echoes across the lands coming from a distant point. After a few seconds, the answer is the flapping of bird's wings as they flee from their hideouts and nests even this time of the eve.
Takaro nods at Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap. "Ah, bathing. You know, I haven't done that in a long while now." He watches Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap enjoy his milk, when a loud screech echoes through the air. The bar goes near-silent in an instant. "What... was that?" Takaro asks, his hand reaching almost automatically to his side. Klaus has ducked beneath the bar out of reflex.
Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap's head swings over both shoulders so quickly it seems as though it may twist off his small little body. With a furious shake of his cane, he hops down off the bar stool and grumbles, "I have heard that cry of darkness far more than any holy Davite should! Bolt shut the doors! The forces of darkness are upon us!" He points his cane towards Takaro now, and begins shrieking orders, "You and I, good sir, shall lead the defense of this fortress! No mage nor demon shall dare challenge the strength of the Bearfort! Men, to arms! Man the steeples! Guard the barricades!"
In the stunned silence of the moment and the gnawing fear that grew beyond it, only Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap's voice filled the void. And the men of the Bearfort responded like wildfire. At an extremely ancient man with shocks of white hair's commanding tone, the men gather all the chairs and tables and begin stacking them against the door, doing their best to bar the Bear and the Boar from any incursion, whether it be mages, demons, or other patrons. Takaro, for his part, feels much the same way. "I accept your charge, sir." He says, drawing his dagger. "Right then!" He turns to Klaus, who has only recently risen from the bottom of the bar in the confusion. "Grab the kitchen staff too, man! All hands on deck!" Takaro's voice is that of a man who tends to have his orders obeyed, and Klaus scrambles to the kitchens, all the while wondering what in blazes is going on.
Takaro thinks to himself, "What in the hell has happened? And what IS happening?!"
(The Bear and the Boar is an unruly mess, tables and chairs overturned, all of
them built up in a barricade directed against the western entrance. A couple
dozen men wait with bated breath at the door, weapons ready. )
Action set to:
Takaro is standing at the head of the men, his dagger unsheathed and his eyes like little dark beads glaring directly at whoever opens the door.
The old man has hobbled over to the door, intending to close it, and as soon as his cane touches to push shut the portal to the terrifying darkness of the outside, a hand shoots in through the small gap of the threshold, "Please!" a man's desperate voice can be heard pleading, "I need shelter!" Cold and insistent, Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap continues to try to shut the door, crushing it against the poor man's arm in the process, "Sorry my good fellow! But sacrifices must be made! You'll be a hero to your family! The same old same old..." his bushy brows close in together as he finally succeeds in shutting the door. He then gestures for two of the frantic patrons to hold it in place with a chair and table before he heads on back over to Takaro, "What is your name, good sir? I shall have you honoured greatly for your bravery today!" His yelling somehow manages to drown out the cacophony that Klause's tavern has adopted.
A roughly dipped tallow candle with a thick twine wick flares momentarily blue in Takaro's hands.
Takaro shouts above the din. "Takaro Sanche, sir! And yours, if I may be so kind?!" His voice, loud and clear, seems absolutely intent on observing the proper pleasantries. And then the fireplace flares blue, leading to yet another period of moderate chaos. "Arien's blood, what in the hell?!" He's still shouting, even now that the flashing blue flame has brought the bar to a sudden, cold silence. And in that silence, a man - well, only just barely one, with little wisps of colorless hair on his chin - speaks his mind. "Couldn't it..." The boyman looks around, fear in his eyes. "Is it already... here?" The silence goes from cold to freezing in an instant.
"Beat out the fire!" Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap screeches in newfound hysteria as the boy's suggestion is now given full merit, "Beat it out before it manifests into a demon that shall scorch our flesh from our bones and our bones from our marrow and turn our marrow into char! Beat it out, Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap, Head Admemeddwadaw and Dean at the University commands it! Come on, Sanchey! These eewwaoofewweed will not cost us OUR lives!" And he's racing towards the hearth, cane swatting.
Takaro jumps into action immediately - as Faemanuslaewyn ab Renwap goes charging towards the hearth, he picks out six of the burliest looking men. "You lot, stay on the doors! NOTHING and NOBODY gets through!" The men give six separate, awkward and untrained salutes before bracing themselves against the barricade. To their credit, they only look back at the hearth every few seconds. Takaro, for his part, leaps over the tables with astonishing precision, grabs a long, wide bristled broom and storms over to the hearth to whack the fire half to death. The other men look at eachother in confusion and decide they couldn't be of any help, -really-.
Takaro thinks to himself, "I have no idea what he said for half of that! Bloody fucking hell!"
"For our wives! For our children! For all that is holy and Davite!" Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap professes as he and Takaro proceed to vanquish the flames of the Boar's hearth with broom and cane, "Never... have I... fought... such a faddeamade... foe! Not since... the rebels... in the... Civil... War! What of you, Takara?!?" A rightful occasion for building up camaraderie, it appears.
Takaro wears a fierce grin, as befitting the younger of two old men. "Takaro!" He shouts breathlessly, landing one particularly choice swing that extinguishes nearly a fourth of the fire. "Once fought a bear!" He roars, bringing the broom down and around over and over again, moving it so swiftly it has no time to catch flame. "Alone! In the woods! Feels like that!" The idle men watch in horror as Klaus finally returns from the kitchens, his cooks armed with knives, himself with a big black truncheon that looks like it's seen heavy use. "Klaus! Get the hell over here and help us put out this Aweem-dammed fire!" Klaus, finally on the edge of getting control of the situation, is once again cowed into submission. He starts bashing the firewood, with no knowledge of why he's doing so.
Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap continues to swing with as much might as those bone thin arms of his will allow, "Die!" he shrieks, hopping once in between fervent whacks of his cane, and then twice every time Takaro takes a swipe with his broom, "Die and go back to where whence which you came you odious, abhorrent, malevolent dawwoofdeam of soul and Spring!" He shoots a wild look to Takaro and shows an almost manical, gumless grin, "I think we are beating it, mister Takeru! The Bearfort may stand to see dawn after all!"
Takaro shouts "Takaro!", in an attempt to correct Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap. Klaus, misinterpreting the situation, shouts "Klaus!" Suddenly, the whole room is filled with men shouting their own names - this seems to give spirit to the men idling about and, while constantly shouting their own names, they begin to grab various barhold implements and do their level best to smother the hellfire along with Takaro and Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap. Within moments, the fire is finally defeated! The men cheer, momentarily oblivious to the fact that the bar is now lit only by stray candles and chandeliers, making the place a den of shadows.
The cane falls from Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap's grip and clatters to the floor when at last, with the ever helpful aid of the last minute idlers, the fire is smothered. He doubles over, hands on knees, and begins coughing, hacking, and wheezing, with such severity that it may seem concerning. In fact, some of the men, with their cheers dying down, lean forward and peer doen through the darkness at the form of the old man, "Eh... is he...?" queries one, "I can't rightfully tell," says another, and it's then that Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap straightens up and turns to face the men of the Bearfort, Takaro at his side, "Men! (Cough!) Lads! (Wheeze!) We have performed a duty to our realm! Never befooooore... has such bravery and cowardice manifested itself demoowdameaoodwe in my presence!" As the men are left to wonder if that was praise or not, Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap turns towards Takaro, well, at least he thinks it's Takaro, for it's actually Klaus, "Mister Tarkora, it has been an honour to have a doofdewfeemd like yourself under my brave command. I shall write fondly of you when I reflect on my victories here. Now!" he drops to his knees and begins searching for the cane he discarded earlier, "Where is my sword? Hrm... that doesn't feel like a sword..." Poor Klaus.
Takaro has never been gladder to be involved in a case of mistaken identity. With the excitement dying down, Takaro spots the cane lying between a pair of legs, and due to the severity of the situation, shoves the man standing over it out of the way and snags the cane as quickly as he can. "Here is your cane, sir." Takaro says, handing it crook first to Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap. "Takaro." He says, inspiring a brief, quickly smothered new attempt at the cheer. The boy, the same one as inspired the last hubbub, begins to speak. "But now it's all dark, what if-" Takaro quickly walks over to him and slaps him in the mouth, hard. "Whatever you were about to say, shut the hell up. Do not speak. Just sit, and be quiet." He rises to his full height - not quite impressive, but not dimunitive either. "Right then! We've felled our demon! Now, we maintain the barricade, and we stay bloody well put until the knights show up! Got it?!" The crowd looks towards Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap for approval of this new command.
Takaro shoots a quick wink towards Klaus, the promise of free drinks for a week both unspoken, and granted with the utmost gratitude. [Hidden]
Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap stands up, proper cane in his hand, and brushes himself off, "Ahem! Indeed! Exactly what he said! The night is dark and full of terrors, and for all we know, the forces of the unholy may try again to take our position! Stand firm lads! Tarko!" he squints around for Takaro, finds someone with a similar frame (Klaus has hidden behind the bar), and states, "I require nap time to rejuvenate myself! You have the Bearfort!" And he's hobbling for the stairs.
The man Feamanuslaewyn ab Renwap indicates begins to give orders before being given an absolutely -withering- glare by Takaro. "Takaro!" He shouts up the stairs, one last time. Silence settles upon the Bear once more. "Well? Did I say just sit around? Find something in the damn kitchens to bolster that barricade! Klaus!" Klaus slowly rises from the bar, his eyes wary. "Get these men some food and drink! I won't have my men fight starved and sober!" With a wave of his hand, Klaus sends his cooks back into the kitchen, and taps the -good- ale. And just like that, the Boar is ready for anything. The night lengthens, in seconds, then minutes, hours...
Takaro thinks to himself, "I really hope nobody realizes I don't know what the blazes I'm doing."
The Defense of the Bearfort
This had me laughing the entire time. Best. Log. Ever. Amazing job, you two. I love the use of the vnpcs and npcs. You really brought this scene to life, and it was obvious you had a blast doing it.
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