Gun Talk
Tenebrae - Thursday, February 20, 2014, 8:37 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.
The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.
Bennet sits at a table near the bar, an empty bowl and a refilled mug next to him. Upon the table is his rifle, partly disassembled, and a cleaning kit, which likely explains the former. And why the cowboy's hands are kinda oily.
Zoob bursts into the Fernwood, ears flapping as he spins and pushes the door closed to keep out the cold. He bounds up to the bar, scaling a stool in a few quick movements. "Ale! Ale and lots of it! I've not had a drink in two days and I'm parched!" The staff seem used to this and bring him two ales, one of which he guzzles immediately before looking around at the room.
Bennet snorts softly, eyeing the new arrival with mild amusement. "Ya know, simple bit of water be better for a thirst than ale. 'less yer thirsty for ale, which case ya got bigger problems."
Zoob places the other ale on the seat of the stool, climbs down, and then reaches up to take it. He trots over to the stranger's table. "Water? Don't trust that stuff, never know what's lurking in water. You know fish live in it, right? Ale's been brewed, makes it safe and clean, plus it tastes batter too." He peers at the disassembled gun. "Hey wow, a thunderbelcher! I have one right here!" He points over his shoulder at the stock of the very worn and patched 'belcher that sticks up. "Bessie's a great companion, nice and loud too, what's yours named?"
"Gate." Bennet answers with a small grin. "Ain't quite sure yer iffen that's a first or last name, or what the rest may be. Ain't had her too long, still sorta gettin ta know each other. Anyway, gonna reckon ya ain't heard of the Ale Elemental."
Zoob cocks his heat to one side. "Ale elemental? Nope, haven't heard of that. Except for that one song, you know the one about nthe drunk wizard, goes dum dum do do do dum do deeeee? I figured that was just a song though, do they really exist? That must be cool. Is it good ale?" He runs out of breath, placing his second ale on the table and hopping onto another chair. "So your belcher is named Gate? That's an intersting name, where did it come from? I'm Zoob by the way, marksman and airship crewman, sort of on loan to the Adventurer's Guild and working off some debts, you know how it is, the Gobber Family lent me some money and there were the gambling debts and, well, you don't care about that. What's your name?"
Bennet blinks slowly, taking all the chatter in stride. "Bennet Susson, Absolution fer The Lady. Made her out of metal from a cemetary gate; still ushers folk from the livin to the dead. Ain't never met such a monster myself, but met them who have. Or least the one, ain't sorta thing are a lot running around. Don't reckon the ale stays good after, but can't say for sure."
Zoob nods quickly, ears flapping. "Of course, once it's killed the ale would just splash everywhere and that defeats the purpose of ale, it gets all dirty and stops being safe and healthy to drink." He slaps himself on his skinny chain-clad chest with a jingle. "Ale keeps me hearty and strong, it's goo stuff. Except when it isn't of course, bad ale's not so good, but at least you can tell when it's gone off usually. So a gate, hunh? Cool! I just got Bessie here in a trade for a load of sheep that were not stolen at all and mostly healthy, she didn't work at first and needed some love but I got the magic Thunderbelcher fingers and I know what she likes. Don't I Bessie? Yep. I treat her right and she hardly ever jams at all much."
Bennet grins, and nods. "Good gun will see ya though tough times, if ya treat it well. Ain't to say won't ever jam. Get a bit backed up myself sometimes. But ya do good to others, comes back to ya, in it's own time."
Zoob graps his mug in both hands and takes a long swig. "Yep, Bessie and me go way back, she's seen me through some tough scrapes and I was thinking that maybe I could add some stabilizers here on the barrel and a harness to hold her back over here and lengthen the barrel and widen it and then maybe she'd be even more effective! Louder too, which is always good, scares away the bedbugs. Some sights wouldn't hurt either."
Bennet blinks slowly, not quite following all of that, but getting the general gist of it. "Welp, louder ain't -always- better. But can put it to pretty good use iffen yer ready for it. But sights be a good move. If all ya got is noise and flash, may as well get yeself one of them ThunderStones."
Zoob pauses, eyes wide. "Thunderstones! Genius! Why didn't I think of that? I wonder if I can make one small enough to fit down the barrel and not go off until it hits something. That would make a big enough bang, or two bangs I guess as it gets shot and then hits something and goes off. A thunderstone going off after it got shot into someone would probably hurt a lot, do you think? I wonder why I haven't seen that on the market before, maybe only an Artificer could get it to work right. I'm just an engineer you see, I can patch things up and the like but I don't hold with those Death Ray thingies they got, I like something that works because it works not because I'm holding it."
Bennet shrugs mildly. "Can understand that. But is somethign for your own skill and power. Reckon yer Bessie there wouldn't be the same in other hands." The rifleman deftly reassembles his own Thunderbelcher, cleaning up after himself a bit better than most would suspect an old cowboy able. "Any case, i reckon I best get going. Got some repairs to make up at the temple. Reckon be seeing ya 'round."
Zoob finishes his ale. "Good to meet you, maybe next time we'll see if we can find a real Ale Elemental to check and see if bullets hurt it or not." He hops down to go find some food.