Graemoore, History Written in Blood (IC)

[JupiterJazz]

"Gnnrrrrr," rumbles the large orc from behind the counter, as he turns around grabbing a mug from a shelf and begins wiping it down.

"Aye, dat mewling lizard-rot 's upstairs," he gorwls in a barbarous mannerism, as he sizes the dwarf up briefly before glancing the Eldarin over, "first he brings a midget, an now wes gottsa fey, can yar 'magin the humallity"

He pauses to wipe away some yellow ooze permeating from a recently sustained eye wound with the same cloth he's been using on the mugs, before vigorously continuing the task at hand.

"Yaw'd best chanc'd be dah firs' door up dere." He sits his mug down and leans closer over the counter, "nows we all 'ere noes yer kind'sa gottsa memory 'bout long as yah are high, 'gin dats dah firs' door."

"Memory 'bout long as yah are high." He roars loudly as he breaks into a hysterical fit of laughter, "Dats a good one righ' dere, hafta let Scrag in on dat one, definate knees 'lapper."