Laughter filled the tavern level of the Kaima Inn, a sound rough and hard as well as light and flowery. Voices traveled far in this place, and the inn was no exception. Even a Dwarf, such as Relfgar Morllek for example, could distinguish just about every conversation that was going on in the small room. Well, perhaps not so small. But it certainly wasn't large - only a dozen tables and room for twenty people at the bar. Small, but large enough to fit in a decent clientele.

Such as Relfgar.

Relfgar was nothing more and nothing less than an adventurer here. It had taken him a good week to reach this place, and now he was just sitting at a table observing the room. He drank deeply from his flagon of mulled mead when he was thirsty, though he would have preferred Dwarven Stout or at least a good strong ale. Dwarven Stout, of course, was the strongets and darkest beer in existence. Well, except Orc Killer Brew - but Relfgar had never heard of that. What he had heard of, though, were the constant fights that seemed to break out in the Kaima Inn. It seemed that with a steady flow of customers also came a steady flow of buckets and mops seeking to clean up the blood. And washing the floors was only one function of the man in the corner. He was also a bouncer, and he would bounce anyone he could handle - which was most people, in fact - out the door the moment they caused trouble.

Relfgar, though, wasn't here for trouble. He was here for a drink. He wasn't really all that hungry, and he certainly wasn't tired yet despite his long venture out to this distant village set seemingly smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. It was only midday, or a little after rather, and he'd eaten something on the way here. So, now he just watched the crowd and waited for something to happen. He could use a good fight, but it wasn't his main purpose for being here. If that had been his main purpose, he could have started the fight himself by killing the bouncer. But he wouldn't have started a fight or killed anyone unless they started something first. He wasn't a murderer.

After a short while, though, he noticed someone coming into the bar. The man's clothes weren't of the richest quality, but they weren't those of a peasant, either. They were about average, and yet different somehow. Relfgar just wasn't quite sure what it was that set the man apart from the others. There was definitely something about him, though, that made the other patrons a bit nervous and edgy. Several left right after his arrival. Relfgar continued to watch the man purely out of curiosity. This would be an interesting afternoon and evening, after all, it seemed.

Pushing the door open with one finger, a large man walked into the bar, nodding at the barkeep as he entered. He was certainly a large fellow, and he walked straight up to the counter and lifted one finger at the bartender, who nodded back pouring a tankard and sliding it down the counter. As the tankard reached the big man, he reached his hand out and snatched it, sipping it and smiling at the one who poured it, who smiled right back.
Eyes followed the fellow as he moved to an open table in the corner. As he sat, he cast an eye at the other man working tonight. The big man, known as Chase, nodded his greetings, and the regular bouncer nodded back before taking his break.
Eyes were still on Chase for a while, but they gradually went back to what they were doing before.
The big man was definately one to catch the eye, but it wasn't generally his size that got the attention, more so the fact that Chase was armed to the teeth almost twentyfour seven.
Out on the job, or out for a drink, Chase rarely went anywhere without his weapons. And he had them all in force. His flanged, six-bladed battle mace was hooked at his left hip, the shortsword was in it's scabbard at his right shoulder, and at his left, there hung a powerful crossbow, full complement of barbed bolts with it, one already loaded. He really needed some knives, for throwing and for fighting. And maybe a war axe.
Tankard of ale in his hand, the ranger's eyes scanned the scenery like it was all they ever did. But Chase never got drunk; being drunk dulled ones senses, and one with so many weapons didn't usually carry them for the fun of it. The ranger prefered to keep hie wits about him.
There was a dull thud as he set his tankard back down upon the table, which he picked because he prefered being in corners for one reason or another.

The ranger, who was actually a Warden of a certain port city named Lómëdor, was off duty for a while, so decided to travel a bit, see some more of the world. The inn at Kaima obliged him for a while, for no charge as long as he kept the tavern in a state of general order. Sure, a few barfights didn't miff Chase, but there were some things he wouldn't tolerate, and would be forced to intercede. Chase's deep brown eyes took in everything around him, his light brown hair falling in general disarray.
His fingers beat a simple metronome on his mace handle, a habit he picked up somewhere at some point in time for some reason, the details didn't bother him.
The tavern room was one as taverns usually went. Drunks, babbling back and forth at one another, sometimes there was offense taken and fists thrown, chairs broken, and noses and bones sometimes as well. There were talks of all sorts, some of which about trouble, but it was impossible to sort through them all with the drunken babbling going on all around the room. One thing kept bugging him though. A dwarf, kept glancing in his general direction. As if he had never seen a ranger before. But then again, perhaps he hadn't.

Chase stood up and slipped out of his seat, his massive frame becoming apparant as he rose. The Warden was wearing all black, pants, boots, shirt, leather belt with a buckle bearing a strange emblem in silver filigree at the front. His cloak was a brown so dark that it looked black in the dim lighting of the room. His footfall was not as loud as it should've been given his enormous size and apparent weight. But it was a slow manacing gait anyway, seemingly intimidating, especially when the person being intimidated was drunk.
The big man strode his was over to the dwarf and said in a deep, clear, resonant voice.
"Can I help you?"

The man was having a cool drink, but he'd only taken a sip or two from it. He was not one to drink deeply from his tankard, it seemed. Shame. Relfgar much enjoyed drinking contests of one kind or another - and he'd never lost yet, either. He could hold his liquor, aye, and then some. But the man was now approaching him. He seemed to have noticed all too well the unhidden glances cast his way by the wary Dwarf. But it wasn't his own wariness, if any, that had drawn his eyes to the man; it was the man's. He was built powerfully, that much was certain, and his weapons weren't those of a man just learning to use such things, either. His walk was like a cat, practiced and ready for a fight, and Relfgar had a feeling that - like himself - this man could handle just about anything that came his way. He was probably the one responsible for the dead wolves Relfgar'd found outside the town, for that matter. Rotting, they were, and picked by vultures - like they'd been out there a while. There was blood everywhere, and not just lupine blood. Perhaps whatever they'd killed was the reason they, too, now lay dead in a pool of their own bodily fluids.

But back to the man at hand. He was most definitely approaching Relfgar. He wasn't a man to be taken lightly, that was for certain. But then, as stated earlier on, Relfgar had not come here looking for a fight. He'd come here simply to enjoy a drink, and a drink only. Still, if this man wanted to talk, he'd be more than happy to oblige him. The road was a lonely place, after all, and Relfgar had no companions.

"Depends on what ye mean by help, man. I'm jus' 'ere fer a drink. You?"

As if to emphasize this point, Relfgar lifted his own flagon in a kind of polite salute to the man. He drank deeply and motioned with a hand for the ranger to join him if he liked.

Chase had seen the carnage outside himself, but had no hand in it. As he stared the dwarf down, which was definately strange what with the height ratios, he contemplated what the dwarf would want with him.
"Depends on what ye mean by help, man. I'm jus' 'ere fer a drink. You?"
Chase closed his eyes and smiled, nodding once.
"Pretty much the same thing as you, my friend, except that I took over the regular bouncer for the night. I'm just on a simple vacation, but my job entitles me to certain benefits and opportunities." he looked over to the barkeep.
"- such as free drinks and lodging."
The dwarf's demeanor was friendly, and though he had been drinking like a fish since Chase had been watching him, he seemed no worse for wear. Chase was glad that he brought no trouble, for as much as Chase liked a good fight and the like, he was not in the mood at the moment, and prefered to talk as of now. Peace was always good.
"Speaking of travels, what brings you to the friendly inn of Kaima? I haven't seen a dwarf in these parts for a very long time." and that was the truth. But it struck Chase as sort of interesting. For as world renowned as Dwarves were for being notoriously quick to fight, that was one race that the big man had never engaged in combat. Not even a single one, even the drunkest. Well, he thought, for tough guys, they sure are a friendly lot. But as soon as he finished speaking, he extended his hand down, warmly, a grin lighting his own face.

(Pardon the terrible post, I'm heading out to a friends place now)

((No prob. :) ))

The Dwarf leaned forward a bit and shook the man's hand firmly. Then he leaned back to relax once more. Why was he here? Good question. He supposed because he had no place else to be. With no clan to live and work with, after all...but that was another time. He was trying to forget the negativities of his past and focus on living his life to the fullest.

"Well," the Dwarf said, still pondering the man's question, "mainly, I'm just lookin' fer some adventure. Explorin' a bit, y'know, gettin' ter know Arda a bit better'n I do. It's been a long road, but a good one, an' I've met some friendly people here 'n there."

The Dwarf shrugged and gulped down some more ale. Oh, yes, he could definitely hold his liquor. He was usually the last one to get drunk, even among his kind, and he wasn't about to let that small bit of pride go now - not that he could if he'd wanted to of course, but still. When he set it down, he sighed in satisfaction and continued.

"With th' deepenin' red o' th' sun, I though this'd be a good place ter bed down fer the night. An' they got good friendly people 'ere, an' good food an' ale besides."

He wondered what the rest of the town was like. He doubted everyone was as friendly as the people that worked in the tavern here, but who knew? Maybe they were. Whether they were or weren't, though, he'd probably spend a couple days in the town just to see the sights. But he didn't know for sure yet. That was the best part of living on the road: you didn't have to worry about a schedule. Same with working in the mines, really. Long as you pulled your load, you were good to go.

"Well," the Dwarf said, pausing as if to gather the proper words, "-mainly, I'm just lookin' fer some adventure. Explorin' a bit, y'know, gettin' ter know Arda a bit better'n I do. It's been a long road, but a good one, an' I've met some friendly people here 'n there."
Chase watched as the dward resumed to the task of emptying his tankard. That was something they all seemed to have in common. Chase was reminded by the dwarf's height of a particularly short little man he knew, a thief and rogue by nature who usually flung himself into a tankard at will. He could hold it well for a short little man.

"With th' deepenin' red o' th' sun, I though this'd be a good place ter bed down fer the night. An' they got good friendly people 'ere, an' good food an' ale besides." Chase nodded and let his eyes wander about, scanning the room for any potential trouble, which as he expected, was not even remotely in sight.
"That's true sure enough. It's a cozy little place here." Pausing a second, he looked over to his table where the tankard still sat.
"Pardon me a second, I think I'm gonna go grab my drink." the warden moved a bit quicker this time and though they were fewer, there was still an eye or two upon the large, dark framed figure.
Chase was feeling strange about that. There was often surprise at a man so tall and built, but the shock wears off. Usually the only eyes still on him were ones up to no good by now. Nobody would expect the Kaima of too much trouble either. It was the ideal spot for crime in that sense. Chase shrugged that off and grabbed his ale, walking back to the dwarf, a small smile of a returning greeting on his face.
"Well, traveler, the name's Chase; and seeing as I can't just keep calling you 'traveler', so what's your name, friend?"

Relfgar grinned. No, he wasn't drunk yet. Hadn't even started to feel a buzz, in fact. He was just greatful that he might get some good conversation with a local patron of Estolad. He was a friendly Dwarf, though he often seemed a bit gruff at first, and so he liked to talk and sing and laugh as much as anyone else. As much as he loved to drink and smoke, for that matter, and he loved those things quite a bit - as did most Dwarves, of course.

"Th' name's Relfgar Morllek. It's good ter meet ye, Chase. Funny name, though. Don' think I've ever met someone named after summat like that...Chase, hrm..."

The Dwarf pondered that a bit. What might have prompted the man's parents to give him such an odd name? It was certainly an odd name to give a human, at any rate. Perhaps his parents'd had to chase each other around before they finally got to it and pumped out a kid? Who knew. Point was, it was a strange name. But finally, the Dwarf let it go. He shrugged and grunted, clearly dismissing the matter.

As he was gazing casually around the bar, he noticed a couple of very large folks talking quietly. They kept looking in Relfgar's general direction, too - or perhaps Chase's. Either way, they couldn't mean to do anything of any value. They were up to no good, that much was certain.

"Eh, tell me, Chase. Ye always have people like that tryin' ter cause trouble in 'ere? On'y I notice they're mighty keen of ye, an' I don' think they mean ter offer ye their gold."

Relfgar gave a slight nod toward the people as he spoke. They started to get up as he was finishing his short speech, and Relfgar casually rested his right hand upon his upturned warhammer and shifted his weight slightly. He could move pretty fast for someone so short and stocky, and that warhammer was a deadly weapon in his hands. Chase didn't look like the type to back out of a fight either, not with those weapons on his person.

But these 'heavies' weren't just the usual crowd. They were human, sure - but immense and powerful. And they were carrying very, very big swords. Relfgar had no doubt they knew exactly how to use them, too. Those were Marked Blades - those crafted solely for the purpose of being awarded to Blademasters. They each carried four - two on their backs, and two at their belts. And then there was the heavy, durable-looking steel armour they wore. This would be an interesting fight, if it came to that - and Relfgar had a very strong feeling it would...

"Th' name's Relfgar Morllek. It's good ter meet ye, Chase. Funny name, though. Don' think I've ever met someone named after summat like that...Chase, hrm..." the dwarf said in a hearty tone full of comtemplations.
Chase kept his eyes on the people he noticed watching him for the most part, though he stole a casual glance back to Relfgar, who still seemed in thought. Finally, the dwarf looked back up, catching Chase's eyes apparently and he looked over at the men as well.
"Eh, tell me, Chase. Ye always have people like that tryin' ter cause trouble in 'ere? On'y I notice they're mighty keen of ye, an' I don' think they mean ter offer ye their gold."
Indeed, that seemed the case. Those fellows did look familiar to the Warden. Maybe he had knocked some heads together back in the port city and a vendetta was to be settled. Whatever the reason, Chase wasn't for it.
"It's the sort of thing, one gets used to when you're in my position, yes." the big fellow said, keeping his eyes on the group. They were definately being overtly cautious as they noticed the big man and the dwarf noticing them.
"I don't think they're after giving me gold either, friend Relfgar." Chase thought about it, thought about the dwarven lifestyle, and grinned.
"I could take two of those fellows single handedly in about fifteen seconds, but it would be very rude of me not to offer you a chance to enjoy yourself, what do you say?" he had the slaughtering look in his eyes again, and with Chase it was only a matter of time before he got caught up in some fun. He wasn't sure if the dwarf would think he was joking or not with the time it would take to kill the two, but that was a good ol' trademark the warden had. To Chase, a story without embellishment was like meat without gravy; just plain dry.
"But I think we ought to try leading them outside. I don't want any civilians getting hurt for no reason bu the ineptitude of two large, crazy men with swords."

((Sorry for the wait...been kinda busy the last few days.))

Relfgar grinned as he stood to face the men. He hefted his hammer up into both his hands and the men slowed. Something wasn't quite right about them. Relfgar had a bad feeling about this, but he didn't let it show. Instead, though his eyes searched hard for anything and everything that might be even slightly out of the ordinary, he grinned even wider. Then both men drew the swords at their sides - and whirled them about so quickly that their arms were a blur. Relfgar stared in anger and astonishment as roughly a dozen heads went rolling. Then their swords seemed to stop in a readied pose as though they always been that way. Yes, these were clearly Blademasters - but they were something else, too. Something not quite human.

They popped their necks and kicked the tables and chairs aside like they were nothing. They said nothing as they came forward and they struck so quickly and suddenly that Relfgar had no time to block their attacks. Suddenly his hammer was flying across the room and he was slamming into the wall with a grunt. He got up shakily as one of them came for him and the other one cornered Chase. There would be no escape for Chase and there was little room to maneuver besides. Chase had better be really good, or the sheer size of the warrior facing off against him alone would be enough to kill him. As it was, Relfgar used his gauntlets to try to call the hammer to him and watched in shock as the man before him whirled around so fast that he embedded the hammer into the wall behind the bar - making the bartender duck hastily and shattering several shelves-worth of fine liquor. His movements were a blur, just like before. Whatever these men were, they most certainly were not human and this was not going to be an easy fight even for the bouncer in the other corner of the bar...