Scents and Sensiblities of Mencar Pebblecrusher

[Kimono]

Gather thee dwarves, there’s cause for a bash
Tap all caskets and find us your stash
Who calls the round? Whose wallet is heavy?
How many pints can this tummy here levy?

Stumbling forward, the walls shrinking and expanding simultaneously, grog hand involuntarily holding an invisible mug of 'holy water'. Slurring along with the drinking song as he makes his way through the winding tunnels to his room. Should i be nervous about tomorrows raid? A coherent thought floated through his conciousness as he lost his balance and barged into his room. The merry making continues further down the tunnels as he stares up at his room's ceiling - an intricate carving of armored dwarves against hordes of orcs -. " Ach...." he groans and some measure of sobriety comes over him. He realises that the day next he would have to serve his due for his community. Such was the lot of the son of the clan's weapon master - he knew that he did not possess the talent of his father nor could he match the following expectations of the weapon master's son. Images of himself getting punished at training flood his thoughts, he shuddered and wondered whether he was truly prepared for the tasks that awaits him the next day.

'this be called taming 't bull son, an' ye best be familiar wit' it er yer 'ead aint be attached t' yer shoulders after an encounter wit' them or'ken berserkers' Hrognar swung his waraxe up, deftly reversing the momentum to slice at a student, just when the padded blade was about to hit the student's raised shield he changes the angle to connect with the spiked edged of his waraxe. As the blow was spilt seconds away from the students well timed parry, Hrognar pulled the axe back and slammed his palm into the students face. Scowling, he looked back at his son ' now, ye imagine what i'd 'av done if'n a blade was in me palm.' He looked at his father, marvelling at his speed, his skill, his feints within feints within feints and his domineering presence. He begin to nod to say he understood when his father knocked him on the head. ' DONT JUST NOD YE! TRY IT!!' The day is spent drilling with the manoeuvre.

Under the influence of alcohol, he cringes at the flashback - it reminded him of his inadequacy. He was a promising fighter at his age - but no where near his father when he was but a youth - he raised his palm and tightened it into a fist. Staring at the clenched fist he recalled what he had to do the next day. Outside his room, the drinking song rises into a chorus :

And all call:

O, ho, finish in one


Down, down


Until it’s all gone!

Hoorah!

He closes his eyes and smmoned a measure of composure, anger and bitter resolve - Tomorrow i will be Mencar Pebblecrusher, a man, whether i return alive or dead.

Pour another cup, mine appears to be dry

Don’t say there’s no more or a dwarf might cry


All sing along now and sway side to....

The rest of the song is unheard amidst the snoring of Mencar as he enteres a deep slumber..

PS: inform me of errors, in fact, inform me about anything pertaining to this thread : o P. Always looking to improve.