[Just for] Ye Elder Realm [Fun]

walks into the tabern, shivering in my cloaks and fur, shakeing off exess snow. I look around for an empty seat, hopefully a warm one, to sit in, and once I do, I do what one natrualy does with a chair: I sit in it. My k9 snout sniffing the air around me, a tail wagging under my cloak, I think...and am lost in thought.

 

(Phil, you've become the source for my escapist fantasies..)

Subjugating the frigid gusts of the nights, a mystic sorcery practitioner flew through picturesque lands and aesthetic waters all the way from Malaysia to Walrusopia. Ever since sensing a disturbance in the "force", Bryan tried hard to seek for answers in his "Cup of Know-all". And now that the cup informed him of the person who has the answers, he, without further ado, levitated with no qualms boggling his mind. He arrived wet, after a torrential rain at the front door of the quaint tavern. Half the height of the door, he walked pass a massive crowd of tall creatures without being noticed. He spots his target far in the dark corner of the tavern. After much difficulties maneuvering with his soaked black clock amidst waves of "People of the Tall", he hopped onto the chair and gazes at the Walrus's mesmerizing eyes. "Tis said by the Cup that thou needs help. And I sir, shall offer my allegiance."

 

Looks on as the verticaly Challanged individual tries to hop onto the chair. ...*sigh* I pull a paint brush out, and a stream of ink slides out, snakeing to the person and helping him up on his seat. Once he's comfy, the Ink returns to my pen, and I return to my thoughts.

 

In a matter of seconds, Bryan's otherwise genial and cherry vestige, turned gloom and sulky.

"A wizard discriminating against height, how shallow!" Bellowed a voice from within Bryan.

"Cassender, Shh!" Bryan whispered to himself

Much to the bewilderment of the other two gentlemen sitting on the table, a miniature fiery fairy escaped from Bryan's mouth.

"I told you that the "People of the Tall" are all arrogant and conceited, and yet you heed not! You and your faith in other people.. Let's go bro, I don't like them, the zombies are going to invade their lands first anyway!" Cassender, Bryan's mysterious brother who tagged along, lamented.

"But after the plagues pervade their land, you should know better where they would head," Bryan spoke to Cassender.

"And we'll all know who's fault it is by then, won't we?!" Cassender shouted with his squeaky voice as he glared into Inarut's eyes.

(If this gets long enough we can even compile it into a story by itself )

 

*Kicks open the Tavern's old doors with the firmness of his tight, walrus skin, leather boot, and stands in the doorway, a dark sillouhette to the brightness of the sun reflecting off the glacier. "YOU!" He said, pointing at a rather large waitress. "Where is InaRut? He and I have unfinished business". Dramatically pulling his thumb across his neck, the waitress shivers, and her eyes widen.

"Bee... Beebo." she said, half in disbelief. "You know you are not welcom-"

*With those words, Beebo reached for his back, and pulled out a large throwing axe that he skillfully sunk into her chest. It hit her with such force, she was pinned against the wall.*

*He then began to walk through the tavern, radiating an auro of fear to all the commoners, searching for his prey.*

"I am Beebo the Cat! The most feared Bounty hunter in the land, and the zombies of the south have hired me to hunt down that damned walrus! I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN! WHERE IS INARUT?!"

one old man rose up, in fear, saying "he has been sitting in the back" as he pointed to a dark corner in the Tavern.

*Beebo began towards the corner of the large room...*

 

*clad all in charcoal black, the assassin ninja Jeimuzu, otherwise known as The Bird, glides in through the open door, and steps unnoticed towards Beebo, kicking a Hammer-sliding rodent out of the way as he does so*

"Well now, old friend, still up to your murderous ways?" He asks, startling all but the mighty warrior before him; a man not so easily surprised. "It has been many a year since our paths crossed. Who would have thought, years since, that we would be sharing a contract upon our old acquaintance, The Walrus?

He shall not be here, that was a simple decoy. I thought you knew him better than that, my friend..."

*looks to the back of the room, where a scarecrow is seated, wearing a shirt saying 'Walrusses R Us'*

"His ability for deceit and disguise is unparalleled. This will not be as simple as a typical axe-in-the-chest affair. No, he will be disguised somewhere in the room."

*Jeimuzu looks around, seeing none but the annoyed looking waitress, still pinned to the wall, the barman, a small malaysian man, a few drunkards, and a walrus standing very still with a lampshade on his head.*

"If only we could tell which he was..."

"We'll never find him in here. Oh well. Let's get drunk instead. My contract paid in advance."

 

"Ahh, my good friend Jeimuzu." Pulls the bird in for a hug.

"I would gladly drink, strangely enough... all this Pillaging and killing has me tense lately." Beebo stretches his arms and takes off his heavy leather chest armor.

"One 'Sex on the Iceberg' please, barkeep."

"By the way... Jeymuzu... theres something I have been meaning to tell you..." Beebo shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm... " ... Beebo looks down at the floor ashamed resting his large broadsword across his lap... "I'm gay... I should have told you before..."

 

"Cat, I am a skulking ninja. I have followed you for many years, since we last met. Do you think I did not realise this already, my dear warrior? Oh, and I found your profile on Gay.com, too."

*turns to barkeep and demands a Flaming Orgasm* *and something to drink, too*

"I... I'd been having confusing thoughts. I'd been thinking about you in ways I shouldn't, because I thought I could never have you. But then you started doing things that made be question your sexuality; think that maybe, just maybe, I might... you know. You started to be very tidy around your house. You'd occasionally run your hand down a guys back a little further than most, you'd even hug them and kiss them on the cheek. All these little possibilities just added up..."

"So I followed you. I followed you through dense vegetation, and even denser towns, watching your every move. Today, I decided that now was my chance to talk to you again. I don't really have a contract on the Walrus... I just said that so I could talk to you..."

"Beebo... I think I..."

 

Beebo edges ever closer, staring deep into the bird's blue eyes, like diamonds amongst the stars...

"yes? yes?"

 

"I think I'm... I'm... "

*bursts into tears*

 

*Sneakily surveying the scene is a wild oboist, who observes the Walrus taking cover on the Trans-Walrus Walrus current of Walrusopia. Her eyes narrow as she watches her target rapidly slip out of sight, and she follows, at a distance, her double-reeded instrument at the ready*

 

Back at the Tabbern, the dog-figured man gets up, and leaves: not haveing ordered anything at all.

I wont find them just sitting...I doubt I'd find them at all, but I have to keep looking...zombie plage or not.

continues my treck in the snow, the paint brush in my paw, the cloak protecting me from the harsh cold.

 

The wild oboist continues her stealthy journey across the current, clinging to a log. Unbeknownst to the Walrus and his peers, when the zombies were unleashed, the methods used to keep them away from the other ECians destroyed the once-tranquil lands where the oboists thrived. She is the last of a dying breed, and, above all else, seeks revenge...

 

*Suddenly, a warm breeze blows into the Pirate shack and envelops The Walrus. As he looks up to find the source, he sees his old friend Jazz, the oracle of [rawr] walking in, seemingly untouched by the constant rain.
"Walrus!!" She says genially, embracing him. "My old friend from our homeland of Canadia!"
She orders a cup of strong tea, winking at the waitress, and sits down to hear of the Walrus' travels after introducing herself to the Malaysian man.
But she sensed something wild coming their way...someone who holds the mysterious power of the double reed...*

 

Land, at last.

Her boots clunk on the gangplank, as she steps for the first time back on dry land for nearly a year now. Her ship (with a built in dojo) floats majestically on the water, a true sight to behold. Unfortunately, she has now lost all of her previous shipmates and welcomes the terra firma, to find some more. It has been difficult, operating a ship on her own, and despite her proud nature to "do it herself", she has finally conceded to find a new crew, alongside saucy wenches, where she can get them.

The weary Pirateninja merely stops to check on her dual swords, a katana and a cutlass, take a sip of the last drops of wine from her hipflask, before carrying on into the darkness, pulling her trenchcoat tighter around herself.

The seas of the last voyage have been treachorous for the lone travelling pirate/ninja, and she seeks the familiar comfort of the Pirate Shack, a bar that not only serves the stereotypical Ingrish beverage of tea, but also her personal favourite, wine. Although this alcoholic drink was not usually associated with pirates, compared to the interpretations that they merely drank rum, but the truth laid buried under years of misconceptions; wine was the favoured drink of the most hardcore of pirates.

The jolly roger came into view, and the worn walls of the Shack were a welcoming sight. A smile passed across her lips as she found herself in the surroundings of the Pirate Shack. Almost home to Pirateninja.

Her large feathered hat finds it's usual place on one of the hatstands in the corner, and she flicks a dubloon to the barman, receiving a glass of wine in return. Upon turning, there are two faces who she knows have not been to the pirate shack before, who look upon her as if they have been waiting for her...