Bars n mushrooms.

So here I sit in the local pub. A grubby little place with carpet that is either green or just really really needs mowing or dowsing in mold killer. Seems to be a fair array of foreigners about… people dressed for travel and such. I pick up a stool that someone knocked over, noting the mushrooms sprouting on its underside and perch myself at the ancient wooden bar.

I put one of my recently earned coins onto the grubby surface and the barkeep ambles over. He’s a stocky fellow… in fact to draw you a mental picture just imagine a big pair of brawny shoulders with Popeye type forearms attached, connect the shoulders with a beard like a rug full of mushrooms and put some eyes and a bulbous hairy nose in between the shoulders and then just add boots. He’s a dwarf.

Apparently the other side of the bar is higher than this side because he appears to be of normal height from this side. He takes the coin and dumps a metal tankard down in front of me.

Not wanting to look like a girly man I take a large manly swig of the offered beverage. My eyes water… if I’d taken a feral cat, dunked it in bucket of “make cat angry” and then slapped it a few times before trying to swallow it… well that would have hurt my throat less.

Vision... tilting....