ATM II RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

JennyHallu · 05-19-2006, 05:42 AM

Ms. Martinet sighed and rolled her eyes at her employer, then turned to Skittles with exasperated logic.

"You're a tree, dear. You're above that sort of thing, aren't you?" Skittles immediately froze, and Martinet turned back to Alli with a sigh. "That's too easy, really.

"Meanwhile, why on earth should you pick me for this? Roggie doesn't like me; I make him nervous." This statement was accompanied by a disarming smile, as she clicked a blue-inked ballpoint pen in and out, in and out.

"You make him nervous on purpose," Alli accused, but her eyes sparkled.

"Exactly. You think I want to hang around in the presence of a calm, rational balrog who might remember people taste better toasted? Besides, it's fun. You don't think I'm going to stop, do you?"

Hookbill the Goomba · 05-19-2006, 10:12 AM

"If you want things doing," grumbled Smilog the Dwarf, "then ask a professional! I don't have time for this." he leaped off his chair, it was a little too big for him and he hit the ground with a thump. "If negotiations are called off, then I see no reason to re start them. Some of us have little time on our hands." He looked at everyone in turn and then finally at Alli.

"I bid you good day," he said angrily before turning around dramatically and, tripping over his own beard. He fell forth and whacked his chin on the hard floor, he let out a cry of annoyance and many began to snigger. Feeling dejected, the little Dwarf sat back down in his chair, hoping that everyone would ignore him now.

"So, are you volunteering?" asked Alli, with a smirk towards Smilog.

"No!" said the Dwarf sternly, "On second thought, yes! Yes I am. Better a Dwarf is sent to do this job then a-" he suddenly remembered how outnumbered he was, "well, you know. We Dwarves can be... very... persuasive..." he coughed quite violently and clutched at his heart. Before anyone even considered that he might be in trouble, he stopped and stood up straight. He folded his arms and looked Alli straight in the eyes, She thinks she can manipulate me, he thought, I'll show her. I'll show them all! No one manipulates a Dwarf!

Anguirel · 05-19-2006, 11:01 AM

Filthy little mudblood! How dare the ghastly low-born creature defile his perfectly groomed locks...

Then Dracomir's heady mixture of rage, contempt and panic was calmed by a firm, irrefutable voice addressed to Skittles. Or, as Dracomir suspected, Nancy.

"You're a tree, dear. You're above that sort of thing, aren't you?"

It was the secretary, Ms Martinet. Dracomir flashed her a speedy grin of appreciation as Skittles stretched out her arms, humming something apparently meant to represent the tweeting of birds nesting in a great, strong, oak.

Note to self. Or one of one's selves. Skittles can be neutralised by being reminded she is a great oak tree. By the way, Ms Martinet continues to be rather impressive. Must discover her first name...

Dracomir mentally shrugged off such thoughts, turning suavely to the Lady Spymaster.

"I would not normally deign to speak with a mere mudblood King of Mordor, madam, but since our acquaintance stretches back some considerable distance," he smirked slightly, "I will assist, if not exactly willingly, without reluctance. Mother always says that my persuasive skills are without peer."

The Lord Malfoidacil stretched slightly, yawning at an impressive volume without sacrificing any of his style. "The King of Morder should be absolutely nothing. It pains me to say it, but I have had much experience with drunken oafs and mudbloods," he draaawwwled.

And it was true. A certain gamekeeper came to mind. But at this point they were interrupted, not by a Giant, but by a Dwarf-Smilog, who had hitherto remained sourly aloof from proceedings. He had too plebeian and rustic an accent for Dracomir to bother listening to whatever he was saying, so he watched the stunted fellow's beard moving up and down. He was interested to see whether it was free-flowing or stiffened with some kind of salt. Or, whatever. Actually it was really amusing.

"Grrrurrrph, Dwarves grrrk grrrn rrrk persurrrarsirrve," the Dwarf insisted, before coughing loudly. The Lord Malfoidacil brightened up. Perhaps this mission was going to be rather entertaining after all.

05-19-2006, 05:42 AM	#1
JennyHallu The Pearl, The Lily Maid Join Date: Jan 2006 Location: In my luxury Barrow, snuggled up in a pile of satin pillows, eating fresh fruit. Posts: 1,628	Ms. Martinet sighed and rolled her eyes at her employer, then turned to Skittles with exasperated logic. "You're a tree, dear. You're above that sort of thing, aren't you?" Skittles immediately froze, and Martinet turned back to Alli with a sigh. "That's too easy, really. "Meanwhile, why on earth should you pick me for this? Roggie doesn't like me; I make him nervous." This statement was accompanied by a disarming smile, as she clicked a blue-inked ballpoint pen in and out, in and out. "You make him nervous on purpose," Alli accused, but her eyes sparkled. "Exactly. You think I want to hang around in the presence of a calm, rational balrog who might remember people taste better toasted? Besides, it's fun. You don't think I'm going to stop, do you?"

05-19-2006, 10:12 AM	#2
Hookbill the Goomba Alive without breath Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla Posts: 5,912	"If you want things doing," grumbled Smilog the Dwarf, "then ask a professional! I don't have time for this." he leaped off his chair, it was a little too big for him and he hit the ground with a thump. "If negotiations are called off, then I see no reason to re start them. Some of us have little time on our hands." He looked at everyone in turn and then finally at Alli. "I bid you good day," he said angrily before turning around dramatically and, tripping over his own beard. He fell forth and whacked his chin on the hard floor, he let out a cry of annoyance and many began to snigger. Feeling dejected, the little Dwarf sat back down in his chair, hoping that everyone would ignore him now. "So, are you volunteering?" asked Alli, with a smirk towards Smilog. "No!" said the Dwarf sternly, "On second thought, yes! Yes I am. Better a Dwarf is sent to do this job then a-" he suddenly remembered how outnumbered he was, "well, you know. We Dwarves can be... very... persuasive..." he coughed quite violently and clutched at his heart. Before anyone even considered that he might be in trouble, he stopped and stood up straight. He folded his arms and looked Alli straight in the eyes, She thinks she can manipulate me, he thought, I'll show her. I'll show them all! No one manipulates a Dwarf!

05-19-2006, 11:01 AM	#3
Anguirel Byronic Brand Join Date: Mar 2005 Location: The 1590s Posts: 2,778	Filthy little mudblood! How dare the ghastly low-born creature defile his perfectly groomed locks... Then Dracomir's heady mixture of rage, contempt and panic was calmed by a firm, irrefutable voice addressed to Skittles. Or, as Dracomir suspected, Nancy. "You're a tree, dear. You're above that sort of thing, aren't you?" It was the secretary, Ms Martinet. Dracomir flashed her a speedy grin of appreciation as Skittles stretched out her arms, humming something apparently meant to represent the tweeting of birds nesting in a great, strong, oak. Note to self. Or one of one's selves. Skittles can be neutralised by being reminded she is a great oak tree. By the way, Ms Martinet continues to be rather impressive. Must discover her first name... Dracomir mentally shrugged off such thoughts, turning suavely to the Lady Spymaster. "I would not normally deign to speak with a mere mudblood King of Mordor, madam, but since our acquaintance stretches back some considerable distance," he smirked slightly, "I will assist, if not exactly willingly, without reluctance. Mother always says that my persuasive skills are without peer." The Lord Malfoidacil stretched slightly, yawning at an impressive volume without sacrificing any of his style. "The King of Morder should be absolutely nothing. It pains me to say it, but I have had much experience with drunken oafs and mudbloods," he draaawwwled. And it was true. A certain gamekeeper came to mind. But at this point they were interrupted, not by a Giant, but by a Dwarf-Smilog, who had hitherto remained sourly aloof from proceedings. He had too plebeian and rustic an accent for Dracomir to bother listening to whatever he was saying, so he watched the stunted fellow's beard moving up and down. He was interested to see whether it was free-flowing or stiffened with some kind of salt. Or, whatever. Actually it was really amusing. "Grrrurrrph, Dwarves grrrk grrrn rrrk persurrrarsirrve," the Dwarf insisted, before coughing loudly. The Lord Malfoidacil brightened up. Perhaps this mission was going to be rather entertaining after all.