06-05-2009, 03:18 AM
Zach stood aside simply to get out of Nothus', still smiling mischievously, not at all bothered by the serpent-avian's remark about his profession and his chaotic neutral alignment. Tucking the gold into his cloak, he stepped over the knights' bodies and crouched down, slotting a card into each of their armors that read;
That way, should the knights' deaths be investigated, the bakers wouldn't be put to death. He had been leaving these little cards all over, on bodies, scenes of crimes and even women's bodies. He had after all, on more than one occasion, protected those less fortunate than he was, knowing full well how it felt to starve for days. On the way to the inn he was staying at, he thought about visiting that baker in the morning. It smelled absolutely heavenly there, despite all he blood.
Smithson sat on a bar stool and knocked on the counter to get the pretty barmaid's attention. This was one of his favorite diners, it doubled as a pub and an inn, so people usually ate in their rooms, and drinkers tried to keep their voices low, respecting the people who were sleeping. That meant that there wasn't many people around downstairs eating.
"Why h'lo tha' Grundy." The barmaid greeted him cheerfully, brushing a locke of golden curly hair away from her pretty face. "Ah haven't seen you h'ya in a weeyk! The usual?" She asked, taking a pencil and a sheaf of paper.
The white wolf smiled at her warmly in greeting and shook his head lightly. He knocked on the counter seven times, paused, then knocked three times.
"Numbah sev'n, powk aynd mushroom sawce, aynd a numbah three, that's daffodiyel juice. Is thayet awl sugah?" She asked, writing it down.
Smith nodded at her cheerily.
"Sure thing sweethawt, just mosey along ovah theyah aynd ah'll bring yow meal." She giggled as he placed a silver on the counter, and she gave him a couple of coppers back before disappearing behind to give the kitchen his orders.
The wolf sat at a table meant for one and poured himself some water, downing it down in one gulp.
"Oy, Grundy!" A man who was drinking with his friends called at him. "Fancy seein' you 'ere n' outta the smithy! Lemme buy you some grog!" He laughed.
Grundy smiled at them and shook his head, waving a paw at them, declining polite. He then thumbed at himself, and pantomimed hammering something.
"Ah, workin' eh? Say no mo' gov'na, Oi unda'stan." The man chuckled, and returned to his drinking. "Real grand that fellow, Grundy, real grand. Very hardworking." He told his friends.
When the barmaid brought Grundy his delicious, newly cooked food, the heavy tavern doors opened and in came a rather cocky looking Dingo, who immediately approached her after hanging his cloak. Grundy wasn't familiar with him, though he spied him around town on more than one occasion.
"Rosemary! Looking good! Say, I was wondering if I could arrange to move into a room upstairs, preferably with a window facing main street?" The dingo asked, smiling at her seductively as he leaned an both elbows on Grundy's table, his chin propped on top of his paws.
"I don't know hon, the upper quarters are mighty pricey aynd-"
But she never got to finish. The dingo cut her off by ever so casually leaning forward and pressing his muzzle against her full, red lips. Rosemary didn't fight, but she did look a little surprised at first, before she started blushing, and closing her eyes, moaned into his muzzle.
Judging Rosemary's bulging cheeks, Grundy assumed he was giving her a lot of tongue. He pulled away as suddenly and as casually as he had leaned forward, and sure enough, he pulled a about three inches of his tongue out of her mouth.
"Ah... Ah believe we can make an arrangement." Rosemary swooned.
"Oh thank you Rose! I'll go collect my things!" The dingo said, and trotted off toward his room cheerily, as if he hadn't done anything that earned him the stares of everyone in the tavern.
"Lucky bastard..." The man who had offered to buy Grundy a drink murmured.
Courtesy of the Dervish!
Don't find me, I'll find you!
Don't find me, I'll find you!
That way, should the knights' deaths be investigated, the bakers wouldn't be put to death. He had been leaving these little cards all over, on bodies, scenes of crimes and even women's bodies. He had after all, on more than one occasion, protected those less fortunate than he was, knowing full well how it felt to starve for days. On the way to the inn he was staying at, he thought about visiting that baker in the morning. It smelled absolutely heavenly there, despite all he blood.
[Rosequartz Inn]
Smithson sat on a bar stool and knocked on the counter to get the pretty barmaid's attention. This was one of his favorite diners, it doubled as a pub and an inn, so people usually ate in their rooms, and drinkers tried to keep their voices low, respecting the people who were sleeping. That meant that there wasn't many people around downstairs eating.
"Why h'lo tha' Grundy." The barmaid greeted him cheerfully, brushing a locke of golden curly hair away from her pretty face. "Ah haven't seen you h'ya in a weeyk! The usual?" She asked, taking a pencil and a sheaf of paper.
The white wolf smiled at her warmly in greeting and shook his head lightly. He knocked on the counter seven times, paused, then knocked three times.
"Numbah sev'n, powk aynd mushroom sawce, aynd a numbah three, that's daffodiyel juice. Is thayet awl sugah?" She asked, writing it down.
Smith nodded at her cheerily.
"Sure thing sweethawt, just mosey along ovah theyah aynd ah'll bring yow meal." She giggled as he placed a silver on the counter, and she gave him a couple of coppers back before disappearing behind to give the kitchen his orders.
The wolf sat at a table meant for one and poured himself some water, downing it down in one gulp.
"Oy, Grundy!" A man who was drinking with his friends called at him. "Fancy seein' you 'ere n' outta the smithy! Lemme buy you some grog!" He laughed.
Grundy smiled at them and shook his head, waving a paw at them, declining polite. He then thumbed at himself, and pantomimed hammering something.
"Ah, workin' eh? Say no mo' gov'na, Oi unda'stan." The man chuckled, and returned to his drinking. "Real grand that fellow, Grundy, real grand. Very hardworking." He told his friends.
When the barmaid brought Grundy his delicious, newly cooked food, the heavy tavern doors opened and in came a rather cocky looking Dingo, who immediately approached her after hanging his cloak. Grundy wasn't familiar with him, though he spied him around town on more than one occasion.
"Rosemary! Looking good! Say, I was wondering if I could arrange to move into a room upstairs, preferably with a window facing main street?" The dingo asked, smiling at her seductively as he leaned an both elbows on Grundy's table, his chin propped on top of his paws.
"I don't know hon, the upper quarters are mighty pricey aynd-"
But she never got to finish. The dingo cut her off by ever so casually leaning forward and pressing his muzzle against her full, red lips. Rosemary didn't fight, but she did look a little surprised at first, before she started blushing, and closing her eyes, moaned into his muzzle.
Judging Rosemary's bulging cheeks, Grundy assumed he was giving her a lot of tongue. He pulled away as suddenly and as casually as he had leaned forward, and sure enough, he pulled a about three inches of his tongue out of her mouth.
"Ah... Ah believe we can make an arrangement." Rosemary swooned.
"Oh thank you Rose! I'll go collect my things!" The dingo said, and trotted off toward his room cheerily, as if he hadn't done anything that earned him the stares of everyone in the tavern.
"Lucky bastard..." The man who had offered to buy Grundy a drink murmured.
![[Image: self_centered_coyote_by_kerol-d2zmoca.png]](http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd505/Frisky_E_Coyote/Frisk%20Me/self_centered_coyote_by_kerol-d2zmoca.png)
"I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it!"
