Arm Down
Tenebrae - Sunday, November 27, 2016, 8:58 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--<* A02: Ma Rosie's Goblintown Gambling Hall *>--=--=--=--=--=-
The gambling hall might have had color once. Today, black soot coats the top from a mixture of smoke from incense, cigars, and previous fires. Yet, the hall keeps being rebuilt. Somehow. For some reason. Tables fill the hall, leaving little room for maneuvering, and each evening it's packed with as many as it may hold.
The haze is often thick, and the food as expensive as it is exotic. Though founded by gobbers, other species may often be found here, though the cuisine favors the gobber race, with its unpredictable edge, and fiery spices. Occasionally, there are dancers, always gobbers, with handsome warts and round stomaches that wobble sexily over their skirts.
Most any sort of game may be found here, so long as it may be played for cash. Chips are dispensed at the door at a booth underneath a picture of the hall's owner: Rosie. In the picture, Ma Rosie sits in all her gobber glory, aged but still beautiful, with big, generous lipstick'd gobber-lips and a dashing number of warts considered quite fetching by the race. Her ears are lengthier than any sildanyari's, a desirable trait, but which has often had some unsavory souls whispering, accusatorily, of 'enhancements.' The picture, by local legend, is dedicated to her one-time lover, 'Jinks'.
Munch makes his way inside the Hall. The golem is not a common sight, but is known to most of the regulars, if only for the specific rule 'no betting if Munch will eat something. He will.' This particular day, the metal man draws a little extra attention, specifically his arm, which is thin and skeletal, hanging limply at his side. The one known as TerrorMaw is often unusual looking, but this is different even by his standards.
Midmorning on Eliday finds Kaj sitting at the bar, occuppying two stools, of course, given his size and desire to avoid collapsing to the floor. However, he is facing outwards, forearms comfortably resting on the bar, feet on the ground. Next to him are two empty pitchers, but he doesn't look worse for wear. Rather, he looks fairly alert, and as if perhaps awaiting someone.
So when Munch enters, Kaj naturaly turns to look who it is, and his eyes linger on Munch's face for way too long before going down to examine his arm for even longer. He grunts to himself and frowns slightly.
Munch picks his way over to the bar, careful not to step on anyone, or in anything (He HAS been here before), nodding politely to those who happen to catch his eye. Leaning lightly against the bar proper, withered arm scraping lightly across the scarred wood top, he nods to whoever or whatever is acting as bartender this morning. "Glass of whatever paint thinner or lamp oil people where drinking on a bet last night."
Kaj watches the Golem approach, smiles at his order and offers him a nod when he makes the inevitable eye contact with the colossal giantborn.
"Well met," he offers, obviously trying to recall where he has seen Munch before and if and how they interacted.
Munch nods to the giantborn in return, also perring a long moment, magicite eyes blinking with a soft click. "....Rune wall, sparing practice? Maybe? Pretty sure was somewhere in Rune, and not during the big battle. That I'd have remembered."
Kaj nods and glances at the arm again, then back at the Golem's visage. "Is it, well, is it replaceable?" he asks, highlighting his ignorance about all things 'golem'.
Munch blinks again. "Hrmm? Oh. Yeah, I mean, I could, with effort. But it'll grow back on it's own, they tell me. Eventually. Got on the bad side of an undead... gist, gash, some funny name that you think they're saying wrong even when it's right. Looked like a simely troll gone to zombie. Anyway, he sucked the strength outta my arm, I ate his eye, Brightblade turned him to dust. Fair exchange, all in all."
Kaj raises a bushy brow. "You /ate/ his....?" he trails off.
Munch shrugs mildly. "I eat a lotta stuff. He got his face close to mine, things happened."
The giantborn moves his feet, shuffling them to a position that will make it easier to bolt away if this guy tries to eat any part of his face, but he's smiling. "Brave, err, man, who eats a part of the Undying..." He glances at where Munch's stomach would probably be, then remembers a very basic thing about Golems not having to eat. "Or bite, or...good thing the Brightblade was there, aye?"
Munch shrugs again. "Think I would have come out on top without the assist, but may have lost another limb in the process. Did make the trip back intresting. guess some bandits thought I couldn't swing Reaver one handed." Likely refering to the adamantine greataxe upon his back. To be fair, quite a few would have trouble weilding the massive weapon with two hands.
Kaj had confused the Axe-head as part of the exotic skin-fused armour the Golem sports, so he looks over again. "Ah, indeed, some of the Little Ones could barely lift it, I wager. What a very fine Great Axe. Is it an heirloom?" His enthusiasm for this conversation just went up a notch. He knows his Great Axes!
Munch shakes his head. "Nah, family." The dragonhead etched into the metal rolls an eye, and closes, as if going for a nap. "Brother, clone, child sorta thing. See, way back when I was first designed, coulda gone and been a sorcerer magic type. Got the power, got the ability, don't have the interest. Spells are darn useful, but just not my style. Anyway, had the axe made just for me, suits my size, strength, and style. Did a lot of fighting with it. Lota blood and sweat and gunk built up over time. lotta fighters will tell ya their weapon is a part of them. Got sorta literal, layers made of my own flesh built up on the haft. Well, it's parta me, and the parta me that coulda been a magic user took the oppertunity and moved out. Got his own place now, sorta. I mean, we're still pretty connected, but works out. Most of the time, anyway."
Several notches, yep. "That's a wondrous tale in a wondrous city. Mayhaps I can have the privilege of examining the weapon some day," ventures the Giantborn.
Munch buzzes in amusement. "Maybe. Lota folks curious, but they get to pokeing and impolite sometimes. Not a lot of talking weapons around, but not like we're the only pair." Yes, Munch tends to consider himself a talking weapon. Which to be fair, is pretty accurate.
Kaj has disconnected.