|
|
Post by Shale on Jan 10, 2003 14:22:50 GMT
*Enters the armoury warily, taking a good look around. Sensing no danger as of yet, he steps towards the counter and starts drumming his fingers on the countertop, waiting.*
Anyone work here?
|
|
|
|
Post by The Witch King on Jan 10, 2003 14:32:39 GMT
*Appears from behind the counter*
No.
There is no one to man the counter right now.
Everyone is busy down in the furnaces.
What did you want?
|
|
|
|
Post by Shale on Jan 10, 2003 14:55:24 GMT
*A quick glance confirms the suffocating aura that had suddenly filled the room. He gives a curt nod as a sign of respect to the Witch-King's title.*
Thank you, my lord. I was just here to sharpen a few blades. Perhaps I will return later.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Witch King on Jan 10, 2003 15:39:03 GMT
No need..
*Gestures to the arched doorway leading down into the heart of the armouries.*
Take them through yourself. I'm sure you will find assitance down there if you require it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shale on Jan 10, 2003 15:45:25 GMT
Many thanks, great lord.
*Bows quickly before walking through the doorway, where smoke, heat and fire consumed all around him.*
|
|
|
|
Post by Grubhosh on Jan 13, 2003 20:27:17 GMT
Grubby Yawns and takes another bite from an apple she nicked from the store house. Skiving again while the other orcs sweated away working unceasingly. She sniggered lobbing the apple core at one of them.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Witch King on Jan 23, 2003 17:17:31 GMT
*Descends the steps, leading down into the fiery heart of the furnaces. As the orcs catch a glimpse of him they begin working twice as fast, the fear of reprimand evident in their eyes. The place is noisy and hot. The sound of hammering metal is all around him, the hiss of molten steel being immersed in water, clouds of vapour and black smoke choke the armoury.
A stray apple core hits him on the head and he turns sharply seeking out the culprit.*
|
|
|
|
Post by Grubhosh on Jan 23, 2003 19:50:08 GMT
Grubby hissed sharply and flattened herself against the wall, praying the witch king didn't see her. If he hadn't gotten in the way her apple core woiuld've hit a particulary fat snaga right on the back of the head. Very carefully she started to edge along the wall away from the witch king.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Witch King on Jan 23, 2003 20:19:13 GMT
*Grabbed an Orc he felt looked guilty and dragged it screaming towards the furnace. Holding it at arms length he produced a red hot poker from the fire and branded it. A terrible stench of burning flesh filled the armoury as the wounded Orc limped away in agony.
The Witch King threw the poker back into the fire and moved on briskly.*
Thats one Orc that won't be sitting down for a week.
|
|
|
|
Post by Grubhosh on Jan 23, 2003 20:46:12 GMT
Grubby breathes a sigh or relief as she manages to slink round the corner and flinces at the horrifc shreak. Oo witches' on the war path she thought strolling back into the armoury as casualy as she could trying to ignore the nauseating stench of burnt orc.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Witch King on Jan 26, 2003 14:34:41 GMT
*Knocks into Grubby as he passes her at the entrance of the armouries, doesn't even notice her as she is knocked aside. He'd expected 1500 swords to be finished by now and there were only 1450. He was not best pleased.*
|
|
