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!
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>
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::
<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>
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>
"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*
"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.."
::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.
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::
[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>
<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!