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Sweet petals!


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::peeks in::

I've got a lovely bunch of flowers fer sale! Promises to bring love and laughs to all who sniff.

Who wants ta have a whiff? Line up!


Inactive Members
hmm, if I weren't a dumb ol' barb, I'd think I be sniffin some kind of deceptive ploy. Either that.. or, by the number of identical posts in other taverns, perhaps a means to a quick leveling up :p

(but being a barb...) *sniff* whooo, those flowers have some pretty strong fragrances, hoo mama <starts getting dizzy, collapses on the floor a moment later>


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An unconcious customer!

::jumps back just as a big barb hits the floor at her dusty slippers::

Ha! Barbs are one a me favorite men types! Always actin big an bold, snortin an rampagin an goin beserk - but put something that smells sweet under their nose an ya got somethin new ta sit on, walk on, er jus walk over - dependin on where the brute landed an the path ta the stew pot an ale! Ohhhhh, lookit what ya did ta me blossoms?

::drops ta skirt covered knees beside the snorin barb, gatherin broken stemmed roses an a few bare lavender stalks::

Well, peddling me petals is what me life is about, an being a business wench yer not about ta get away with faintin like the barb ya are - that meanin' ya did it all destructive like - without payin fer the merchandise. I'll leave ya a parchment stuck ta yer forhead with a bit a earwax - barbs, always too busy snortin an destroyin ta clean their ears - with what ya owe me. I'll be back ta collect, dontcha doubt it!

::wipes a waxy fingertip on a peacful barb chest, likin the flutter an rustle of the parchment goin up an down, up an down, up an down with each gusty breath a the barb it was attached to::


Inactive Members
<yawns and stretches out, whilst bits of leaves and petals leap off to swirl about in the air as my waking body begins to stir>

Ahh, hmm... good nap eh. <looks about at the bits of pollen floating around> hmm.. musta had a fairy visit me or somethin. <scratches head, and sits up>

Aaahh, eeww, whats this! <feels something crawling down my back, runs to mirror and turns my back to see what manner of creature are running down my skin, only to spot a network of green stems and squashed flower petals littering my back, slowly peeling off by the pull of gravity>

Phew! <looks around quick to make sure noone spotted my bout of panic>

Thats strange.. I dont recall planting anything in the tavern floor.. <wipes them off, and goes to get a broom to sweep, oblivious to any parchments fluttering about on my chest>


Inactive Members
doh, well I wouldn't be a barb if I didn't screw up the simplest of things from time to time. I somehow misread the placement of that parchment, and here I am moving about the tavern with a parchment that has mysteriously jumped from one place to another. Hmm.. perhaps there was a bit more wax in them ears then we had thought :p How might I explain this so to repair the thread..

Ahh yes, it was a strong breath of mine that dislodged that parchment from my forehead and sent it twirling forward, only to have it latch on yet again to the wax wiped upon my chest. This makes sense now, indeed.

<goes about fillin me ears with wax again so that I may be resume me proper barb activities>


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Petal Pushers

"Whew! Business be boomin' but pushin' me new cart around is takin' a toll on the curve of me cheeks!"

::a thorn pricked finger, follows the curve of a cheek from eye to chin::

"Shoehorn best be prepared ta do right by me losses from the other night. Silly barb, faintin' from nature's love potion - flowers be magical an' powerful fer sure! Well, time ta see if me wishes were met. The Thieves key an' stew an' ale fer a week. A big barb like him shouldn' have trouble with such a quest. Pushin' petals be me love, but a good set a 'cano keys can come in handy."

*leavin' a pushcart filled with colorful blossoms - all types an' sizes - the future thinkin' lass pushes open the Evil Way tavern door*


Inactive Members
"Woah, watch it there!" <holds up a hand, then sweeps around the feet of the young woman standing in the doorway, gathering up the remainder of flower bits and pieces from the floor in a dustbin, while eyeing her strange footwear>

"You know, those things look like they've seen a bit of wear and tear..." <lazily gestures towards her feet, perhaps a little too lazily, as the face I look up to seems a bit offended. Certainly, one must imagine legs do get wear and tear, but a mindless barb such as ShoeHorn wouldn't be keen on noticing the potential for such a misunderstanding his own lazy gestures might cause>

"I'd uh.. recommend you get those fixed up, or even replaced, m'lady. In fact, I have a little room in back where I could work them over good."<notices her eyes narrowing and her lips tightening as I continue>

"..See, I could strip them down, and shift them into proper positions.. a little reinforcing with the proper tools could make 'em whole again. Heck, I might even spread a little special coating of my own on them to restore their lustre as well, no extra charge."

"Hmm.. well with the look on your face I'd recommend you have an ale or two to think things over first. Here, this one's on the house.. "

<hands her an ale which she seems to start to turn slightly in my direction>

<catches a whiff of some charming scent> "Hey, you know.. you look a bit familiar.."


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::takes the ale an' slides a finger under the barb's chin, liftin' his face from her bosom ta her eyes::

So what I hear ya saying, darlin' is that ya have a yen ta save soles.

::swallows a coolin' sip o'ale::

Well, it just so happens that I be needin' a new pair a slippers. Me ma always told me ta appreciate me slippers no matter how poor they be, cause somebody doesn't have a foot. But lately as I push me cart from here ta there, I get ta thinkin' that the person with no foot, doesn't have a blister either.

::winces, slides onto a table and kicks holey slippers off ta get their soles saved::

Its a shame ya smushed the last bunch o'flowers I brought 'round. Ya must be allergic ta the heady scent a roses an' lavender. Or maybe ya just had a bit too much ale, or it could be yer just wore out from spreadin' yer coatin'. Lustre makin's not fer just anybody, thats fer sure.

::toes wigglin'::

Ya fix me slippers an' we're square on the flowers ya slaughtered. Ya know, if ya end up bein' a regular customer and ya fall on me petals again, I have a secret receipe fer pot pourri - the main ingrediant be bits an' pieces o'flowers. Always lookin' fer a win win, thats just me way...

::smiles at the staring barb, drinks deeply, and sighs::


Inactive Members
[phew! glad there was no misunderstanding about legs there ;)]

"Hmm.. slaughterin flowers, eh? I don't know just what kind of namby-pamby sissy arse barb you think I am, but this here axe is for slaying demons, not for laying waste to 'fearful' daisies that be floatin about in the breeze."

<grabs the slippers and walks towards the backroom, noticing myself in the mirror, gasping as I catch sight of something stirring in my hair>

<tears the unsightly monstrosity from my hair and swiftly tosses it to the floor, followin' it closely with the blade of my dagger. In a moment it is over, the small green creature has bled its life out onto the floor. Inchworm or not, the foul beast had seen its reign of terror brought to an expedient end.>

"So, uh.. " <gets up and sorts through the rest of my hair in the mirror>".. what gives you the idea that it was I who destroyed your.." <stops, and notices the letter on my chest>.

"Hmm.. 'Dearest Barb of very few manners and even weaker compusure, I will return when you awake to collect on charges owed for stock destroyed during your clumsy descent. ~Lilly'"

<eyes the stems poking out from the garbage pail, rips the note off and storms off to the backroom>

<loudly from the backroom> "You know, there are more suitable footwear than this for traversing this land. Being as its littered with rocks and overturned trees and nameless other hard and uneven surfaces, a good strong boot might be more suited to the task.." <some fumbling about with draws and tools is heard. Continues:> "..but I'm guessin you're the sort to enjoy a closer type of relationship with the land you walk upon, eh? From your appearance, I'd say that each step you take is careful and surefooted."

<looking the slippers over> "Still.. these here lesions and gashes seem to speak of some rough chaotic sprints where all caution was thrown to the wind. Perhaps you've found yourself caught up in troublesome situations quite often, m'lady? I'm betting by these burns and tears that you don't always get along with the elements of nature, or is it the other way around?"

<continues on with what he considers 'sole-searching', analyzing the footwear and vocalizing his thoughts as though someone's listening>

"And just how many years have you been wearing these things I wonder.. they seem to be crying 'mercy' to me! Aah, perhaps they have a bit of a magical spell upon them. Bah, fret not good woman, the soles of these here slippers will surely be saved."

"Oh, by the way, help yourself to more ale if you like, BOM 2000 will serve you as much as you care to drink." <this remark, unlike the long solo rapport ShoeHorn had with an absent audience, is heard well and clear, as evidenced by an outstretched hand reaching for some ale the seemingly out-of-place bartender robot is offering>


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<Blue slips to green at the words "they seem to be crying 'mercy' to me!" Not yet... green slips to blue>

Yer right about me dashin' hither an' yon, barb.

::follows the sound a bangin' an such, finds herself in a typical tavern back room with various sole savin' modifications::

Tis not easy ta get some a the more exotic petals I peddle. Take yer Beowulf's Dragon Rose. Ye might recall that the great Beowulf was taken down in battle by a dragon when his sword snapped, allowin' the dragon ta bite him an' poison him. Well, 'round the place that sad happenin' occur'd - bout a fortnight away from here after ya turn south at the Twilight Waterfalls (there be another place ta avoid) - lies a rose that's thorns contain the very poison that was Beowulf's doom. Funny how a rose's thorn can kill ya quick as a bite from a dragon's maw, eh?

::takes a full mug o'ale from errr... BOM 2000, pattin' a metal part in thanks::

In order ta get to the rose, ya have to go through some mighty rough terrain, an' by rough I don't just mean rocks an' streams an' yer occasional mountain o'sand. I mean there's all manner a muties livin' there.

::takes the stare as a sign ta list some::

Ya got yer basilisks, manticores, zombies, gorebellys, striges, banshees, hellhounds. And them's the mostly easy ta spot muties. But if ya was to need a Beowulf's Dragon Rose, ya'd know to call Lilly, and she'd not let ya down. That's me guidin' business plan, give the people the petals that they be wantin' an' they be givin' right back ta you, one way or ta other.

::curlin' bare toes inta the hard wood floor, lays a hand against a hip, head tiltin'::

How much longer on me slippers, handsome? Unless yer offerin' ta board me fer the night, I've got ta be on me way. Hard ta say what skitters in the night, but it sure won't be me!


Inactive Members
<stands up from my workbench, eyebrows raised> "Well, aren't you a foolishly brave one! Risking life and limb over vegetation, that's quite a conviction you have for your trade! If I were my younger self, I would probably ask you to seek me out this Dragon Rose purely out of amusement, hah! But alas, I've grown out of my old habits.. having fun at the expense of others just results in too many senseless casualties. A shame, really"

"The tale you tell of the rose is interesting though, as it does remind me of a time a few years back.. when I needed to seek out this particular type of flora.. <scratches head>.. Well, the name of it escapes me now, but it was this particularly quirky type of flower.. one with stems that spiraled in tight circles from watery marshlands, with an odd color that when looked straight on seemed black as night, but as soon as your eyes begin to shift away, the petals seem to shimmer in shades of violet and red, instantly drawing your gaze back squarely upon them. I knew at that moment, when these mysterious flowers drew me in, that I had found the right ones."

<grabs a drink from BOM2000 and takes a swig>

"Ahh.. anyways, if you know of the plant I speak of, you would surely know that that godless creation is not a flower one desires to possess, for the odor it emits is as foul as a pile of rotting manticore corpses sprayed with toxins from a Dargoth cranebeast and covered with excrement from a hellhou.." <notices Lilly cringing>"..well, you get my point.."

"So a rational person might ask, 'Why in the name of all creation would I seek out such a vile flower'. Indeed, it wasn't my first choice to carry through with this particular task.. but I had it on good word that no creature of this world or the next would dare approach, nor have an appetite for, one that was covered in the noxious fumes of that plant. And since the most fearsome creature I have ever known was guarding passage to my destination - the Woven Threads of Creation - my choice against being eaten by a 10 foot high spider was to stink away any thoughts of feasting on precious Barb hide!"

<pauses and looks at BOM 2000>
"You know, I'm not quite sure why I had decided to track this invention down, but I suppose you grow attached to your own creations.."

<notices Lilly suspiciously eyeing the bot>

"Okay.. well, not totally my own creation.. I'll admit it. *sigh* I swear, Raizen druids aren't the most trustworthy types of people, but they sure can make wishes come true.. albeit, with a few.. um.. lets say.. unwanted side effects. This here machine was made to exist with the help of magic dust given to me years ago, back when I was trying to make my way here as a bartender. Anyway, long story short - the curse that apparently came with that dust is that my 'enchanted' creations are a little dangerous.. but not just to anyone, see. The perils are solely my own to bear." <reveals a few scars running across my chest>

"Back to my story.. this BOM character had somehow slipped from this world to another.. far away.. hmm, Ragol was its name. I had it in my mind I would find this thing and bring it back with me here, but little had I known of the adventures that lay ahead of me.. and of the things of interest I would find on my journeys.." <drops a few "Meseta" on the counter and twirls them around>

"So, it was to Mt. Strugg I went with a particularly unsavory scent, and made my ascent to the top, a good two days of climbing at least, through all manner of hazards and beasts. Thankfully my charming fragrance kept me from harm on my way up and sent those dreaded creatures of the mountain running away in disgust. I took much amusement in this newfound power and spent a bit of time taunting and chasing them around before I happened to trip over an ill-placed tree branch and found myself tumbling down a stony and thorn bush covered hillside..." <rubs my head and cringes thinking back> "One must learn to control himself, sometimes"

<pauses, noticing the yearning for sleep in her eyes>

"Well, the answer to how that flower faired against the Guardian will have to wait to be told another time. You look like you could use a bit of rest.. there are a number of vacant rooms upstairs you can spend the night in. Might be a bit of a dust coating but I'm sure you can make do."

<goes back to work on the slippers>

"..and I'll have these done soon enough" <clang> "OW!"


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<puppy sneaks in as a sweet smelling lady with bare feet steps out into the darkening night.>

where's she going? Food is THIS way. <sniff, sniff, sniff>

<runs into the Evil Way kitchen, jumps from a bag of flour, to a keg of ale, to a counter top with a big plate of something warm and YUMMY. Tail wagging. Tongue licking. Teeth ripping>



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::yawnin', bare feet hittin' a cold dusty floor with a thud, a quick wash at a cold bowl a water had all manner a things pucker'd and goose bump'd, hair braid'd, dressed an' still puckery:: BRRRRRR!

I don' suppose Shoehorn can find a nice thick blanket fer my next night under the Evil Way roof. Meybe he can convince the family a raccoons livin' in the chimney ta vacate so's a fire can be lit. Me ma always said, "Lilly, raccoons are beasts an' they wash their tiny hands with every bite a food." an' I'd always think just as soon as me hands get as furry as theirs I'll be glad ta do the same, 'specially when the chill turns things puckery!

::wanderin' - lookin' fer a hot cuppa something, an' a barb::

He'll be amazed at what I 'membered in me dream!