Ruined Whiskey

Capital: Damntown. Ruler: Damn. Lying to the south-east of Sinya Palurin where the forests of Arnad Guarhoth (traditional home of the Beastkin) was destroyed. A wretched hive of scum and villainy or a land of opportunity and freedom.

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Ruined Whiskey

Postby Stevie » Tue Apr 19, 2016 3:24 pm

**Damn studied the glass extensively, watching the light bounce from its painstakingly crafted decorative cuttings. Heavy set, rounded base and standing at 4 inches tall it was perfection in crystalline form. It was the kind of glass that sung when you ran your finger across its edge.**

"It's... It's perfect, just perfect. This is the glass that puts all other glasses to shame. Bertrand, you are a genius - I'll want 4 glasses exactly like this but with a true steel inlay of the letter "D". Ah actually, make it 5 - but the 5th one needs to be engraved with a "P.C" or a fancy picture of a pinecone."

**Bertrand shuffled uneasily and wrung his hands**

"I'm glad you like the glass Mr Damn-""Mayor""sorry! Mayor Damn, but this glass alone took me 5 months to craft. If you required another five well they wouldn't be complete for 2 years at least."

**Damn walks over to a small dresser and opens it, retrieving a leather coin purse. He throws it towards Bertrand who catches it awkwardly.**

"This is of the utmost importance. Get it done."

"Uhm. Yes. Of Course. Right Away.


**The many twisting paths and secret passages made this the excellent place for hiding precious things. Damn had walked for almost 2 miles underground and passed no less than 12 armed guards and some kind of undead dog thing he wished he'd never bought. In his arms he carried the presentation box with the glass that Bertrand had crafted, hugging it close as if it was a child, but a child that Damn actually cared about, that actually wasn't a child but was actually some kind of fancy dagger that you could hug.

He reached the final door, placed the presentation box on the ground for a brief moment and turned the key in its lock. As the door opened Damn swung into action, dodging a falling axe, catching the vial of acid before it could burn out his eyes and ducking under the numerous crossbow bolts that flew from one side of the room to the other.**

"It's possible I might have gone overboard with this" Damn mused to no-one in particular.

**Damn retrieved the presentation box from outside and set it down on a table inside the secret room. Opening the clasps slowly he delicately lifted the glass from the box and set it down on the table. Damns face beamed with anticipation as he strode towards an oak cabinet located at the back of the room, reaching in and pulling out a small bottle labelled 'pomodium's personal stash'. A tiny sliver of golden brown liquid stirred restlessly in the bottle as the stopper popped out with an audible 'wffwap'. Moving cautiously Damn poured the remainder of the liquid into the glass making sure every drop was drained.**

"The perfect glass for the perfect drink. Oh how long have I waited to taste you."

Dellam wrote:A faint quake is felt...just about everywhere. A gentle rocking just enough to disturb water and be felt through ones feet.

**An audible shatter is heard as the glass hits solid ground**



**Some tears and drinking from the ground later**

"Boris, fetch my travelling gear, I'm going to murder-fuck whomever is responsible for ruining my perfect moment."

"Should I pack the slide-whistle?"

"Are you a fucking moron?" Damn asked, staring at Boris with as much contempt as he could muster

"I'll go fetch it then"

"I suggest you do."

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