The door opens, and, as Fighter steps on in, the distant sounds of conflict can be heard. Not /battle/, mind you, but obviously conflict, in the form of overlapping, clearly angry voices: "... in his idiotic plan. Just what does--" "-- humor him. Really, what's the worst that--" "... your yammering and get into the gold mine! Thief, start building ( Read more... )

Fighter makes his way into the bar. First he does a double-take, but then he squints a little, and next he outright beams. "It's here again! Hah! I /knew/ I would return here when the time was right. It was foretold to me!" He looks up at the ceiling and his lips move for a moment, then he mumbles, "Unless... was that foretold to me about /this/ ( Read more... )

Fighter makes his entrance. "I keep /coming/ here," he mumbles. "It's as if I'd confused it with a sword shop of some sort. One that sold swords, I mean."

*scoots into the bar*
*blinks and looks around*
*sidles up to the nearest patron*

Hello.

I can smell your brains.

The door opens and Fighter steps in for the second time in three days. "What ho!" he says, "Landlord, five... six... four... excuse me, give me just a moment here, there's me and Black Mage for two, Thief and Red Mage for six, White Mage and Black Belt make seven. What ho! Landlord, seven of the finest horses you have in this stable, for my ( Read more... )