User talk:Fuseboxhairspray

Author's Credit: Alexandra Werle

A halfling rogue and a human ranger walk into a bar... har de har har. Orthen, the halfling, compensates for his diminutive size with his superfluous dexterity. William, the human, is clothed in noble's clothing. He is a bit foolish looking, like someone who would look for something with his eyes closed. :] They enter the bar. It is dimly lit, with plenty of rooms to the side. The occupied rooms have red velvet curtains between them and the rest of the bar for privacy. Two human girls of about the same age have just finished their shift at bar. A swarthy, massive dwarf takes up their post. "What do you want?" the dwarf demanded.

"Uhhmm... ahh..." William the Wealthy stammered and stuttered.

Orthen pushed William aside slightly, and stated, "We are in need of a quest. Hopefully you have something to offer?"

"Hmmm... I suppose I could muster up something for you to do. And is that all?" the dwarf asked.

William, having been outplayed by his camarade, refused to give up. "I want a drink-- the strongest you've got."

Orthen looks at him, raising one eyebrow. "Got a boost of confidence, eh?"

Adrienne, one of the human bartenders off duty thinks to herself, "So, trying to prove your virility, huh? There's no way my father is going to let you get away with that."

William sees what looks like a hint of a smirk behind the dwarf's graying beard. But there was no turning back now. He couldn't just back out in front of Orthen; he would never let him live it down. The dwarf places a large stone mug between him and William. His eyes challenge him, almost saying "I bet you can't do it." William raises the mug to his pursed lips and takes a miniscule sip of the concoction. "Is that all you've got?!?" his stare challenged him further. William, due to peer pressure, chugged the entire mug down his throat. The entire bar seemed to be watching him, and he had no clue as to why. A few seconds later, he was unconscious, slinking out of his bar stool and onto the floor. This used to be a stand up and piss bar, mind you, and there were also plenty of peanut shells scattered around him from previous tennants of that particular bar stool. Most of these tennants did not wash their hands before touching said peanut shells, but that is besides the point. He was unconscious.

"Here are a couple words of wisdom for you youngins: Beware of dwarven ale unless if you know you are capable of drinking it. Drinking it excessively may result in loss of balance, loss of dignity, declarations of love, and general hilarity for everyone else watching," as he said this, he took a swig of his own mug. "That's the stuff," he remarked blissfully, licking his lips. Some foam remained on his scruffy beard as he said, "At the city's borders, there has been a growing infestation of rats. If you could abolish their population, and bring proof of it, then I will give you a sum of seventy gold pieces for your efforts."

Orhten agreed to carry out the task. His only concern was, "And what is your name?"

"My given name is Harry Enfat, but you may call me Harry." He nodded towards the two bartenders. "You two better go with them. Orthen seems sturdy enough of a companion, but his *scoffs* friend seems as if he could use some help."

Orthen, Adrienne, and Michelle (the other bartender) do not tarry too long with introductions. They all spent their entire lives in the city. Adrienne, was the adoptive daughter of