Role

Chapter 6

No more 'prenticin
Added Sat Jul 25 16:08:21 2009 at level 8:

Mardrin's eyes are alight with passionate fervor. He seems constantly full
of energy with his eyes ever scanning, and a thick hand ever finding his
weapons hilt. Fiery red hair explodes from underneath his headwear and falls
around his grizzled face. His face is framed by a monster beard, one
heclearly takes pride in maintaining, and is full of life and vibrancy.
A magnificent set of bushy, red eyebrows is sternly set above sparkling blue
eyes. His armor is buffed to a mirror shine, and thick muscles ripple in the
spots not covered. He is of average height for a dwarf, but perhaps a little
thicker than most. Though being exceptionally clean for his kind, there is
always a hint of dirt about him, and always more than a hint of ale.
So there I am... drinkin me foamy goodness and mindin Nikaulta's shop when a
fergin ELF walks in wantin to see bout havin a dagger made.

"Hello there chap! I would like to commission the forging of a blade."

I can smell the taint o magic on his skinny arse, and I ain't inclined to
have it. Mama always told me a mage never pays their tab. Mama being a
barkeep, oughta know. I reckon barkeeps is the smartest an wisest o folks in
all the lands. Mama certainly would not have me forgin no blades for no elf
mage.

"Why don't yer saunter yer skinny, no-good, fergin elf arse outta 'ere for I
throttle yer!"

That oughta shape him up.

"Excuse me, good sir?" The elf responds. I feel like shovin that "good sir"
up his skinny arse. I mean, I like me coin as much as the next fella, maybe
even more... but mama says there be some lines ya just don't cross. I reckon
sellin to magi is one of em. I ain't inclined to disagree with mama. I'm just
about to start swingin on em when Nikaulta walks in.

"Mardrin! What in da nine hells are ye doin?!"

Uh oh... it don't take no surgeon to know she ain't happy.

"Stop hasslin me customers, apprentice!" Nikaulta hollers at me.

Next thing I know Nikaulta is haulin me off by the back of me shirt toward
mamas. Guess this means I ain't no apprentice of Nikaulta anymore. Well
that's just fine by me, I been thinkin bout joinin the Village anyhow. Why
just take a couple silvers for forgin a dagger fer a mage when ya can lop off
his head, do the world some good, and take his whole damn purse.