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Norgesvenn

LurkAAR
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Jun 13, 2001
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OOC: Good one, Rictus. :)

"See, Rictus... you started the trend with getting blind drunk and then playing. I found that to be a good way of not worrying about bad boy and troublesome neighbours, see...". Norgesvenn paused to take a sip of mineral water. "God, I loathe mondays. I always start the new week feeling last week's binge in my mouth. I started this day retching...". Norg lit one of his stinking Norwegian cigarettes, and blew a cloud of blueish smoke into the air.

"Aye... I know. I had a couple of painkillers for me leg. Stella painkillers, mind you...", Rictus said. "Say, would you mind not blowing the smoke into my frigging face?".

"Oh, so-oorreee. Allergic are we?".

Sgt. Bloomfield ordered "a hair of the dog that bit him". Judging from the amount of "hairs", the dog must've been huge. A Newfoundlannder, perhaps?

"So, any news on the Horde?".
"Which one?"
"The Golden one"
"Mind your language, mate"
"What?"
"Sorry, I thought about showers..."
"Ah... well, I didn't... you dirty-... oh, well. Never mind!".

The usual banter went on.

Lt. Tyler let out a grateful sigh. "Finally the hijackers have left..."
 
People just went on drinking, smoking and chatting. Some of the vets where showing there scars to the rookies.

Warpsite, uncovering his left shoulder and displaying a huge purple scar: "See kid, this I got fighting the Turks just outside Byzance in 1421, and late at night I can feel the wound oozing."
Lord Durham just smiled. His grin was rather impressive because of all the steel teeth he had to replace the ones he'd lost during his many campaigns.

The door opened and Thanak entered. You always knew when he was around, for everyone could hear the usual thump of his wooden leg. He'd lost his leg during D-Day in the UK, while running ahead of his fellow Iroquois, swirling his tomahawk and yelling like crazy.

Eochaid liked this place, even if he hardly spoke to anybody. He just liked sitting in a dark corner of the room (not the one with Mr T, Lord Durham and the hookers... :D), listening to the vets' tales of glory and blood. Most people had never even noticed him.

So the people at the bar were surprised when, all of a sudden, he stood up, went to the bAAR and ordered a "Coffin" (1/5 whiskey, 1/5 gin, 1/5 vodka, 1/5 rum, 1/5 tequila, with two olives and a straw.) Suspiciously looking at him, Rictus gave him his glass. Eochaid took a box of matches out of his left poket and used one to set the glass on fire. He then took one loooooong sip with his straw, emptying the glass and making that horrible sound people usualy make when there's nothing left in the glass.

After that, he just stood there. The few people who'd been patient enough to watch all of this started laughing out loud when, obviously drunk, Eochaid tried to suck up his two olives through the straw.

Disappointed by the lack of success in the whole sucking-an-olive-through-the-straw thing, he tried to talk to Rictus:


"- Y'know Rictus, one day I'll *burp*... I'll be an AAAAAR writer m'self!
- Yeah?" Rictus just smiled, used to drunk, boasting newbies thinking they'd achieve something actually original.
" - One day soon! Yu'll see.
- Sure!"

Eochaid had the hardest time ever trying to get to the door. Finally the bouncer (in fact just some guy called Peter Ebersen who's foot eochaid trod on) threw him out of the place. He managed to go to the nearest barn and crash down there.

When he woke up nexy day, a small voice in the back of his head told him he'd better get started on that AAR. But right now Eochaid had first to take care of his hangover and his bad boozehound breath...

But tomorow, they'll see
 
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Rictus and Norgesvenn watched the gracefully arc that Eochid rose and fell in. Taking healthy gulps from their assorted drinks, Norgesvenn turned to MrT,

"So, what were you saying about the LibrAARy?"

Rictus, still watching Eochaid, winced when he finally landed with a crash. "I think I'll call an ambulance for the guy." He continued drinking, while the BAARtender and MrT looked at him. "After I've finished this drink of course." Rictus explained.

Across the room and on the Podium, Dragonheart was calling for help for his AAR, while Shawng1 slammed open the door with a mischievious grin on his face and blood on his knuckles.

Elsewhere, Warspite was penning the newest chapter in the Encyclopedia WAARspitica, much to the growing interest of the rest of the room.
 
"A lot of information can be hard to digest, you know". Norgesvenn, Rictus and Sharur were at one end of the bar in the bAAR.
"I think I miss out on some really great AARs here". Norg sighed. "Sometimes there's just so much time on my hands. I did some extensive reading this weekend. But, I'm still no way up to speed."
"Thought you were on the bevvy?", Rictus asked, winking.
"Well, that too. It certainly lit up a certain AAR about Aya...attahu...well, those Thais", Norgesvenn laughed, and broke into a coughing fit.
"Shouldn't you stop smoking?", Sharur asked, a concerned look on his face.
"Nah... that'd kill me!".
"I thought smoking killed?"
"Well, I'm afraid I might kill someone if I stopped..."

A few newcomers arrived at the bAAR.
"Hello, gentlemen! What can I do for you? Please, have a seat and enjoy the bAAR and AARland in general. See that man over there? That's MrT. Yeah, the one talking... He's the librAARian. He's made superb list of all current and older AARs. Check it out while enjoying your drinks". Norgesvenn smiled. It always helps to be nice.

Turning back to Sharur and Rictus, Norg asked if they'd read the latest works of MrT's.
"Yep. And loving it", they replied. "To think that the Palatinat could become such a great story", Sharur said, while glancing over at the TV.
"Yeah... a great job!". Norgesvenn nodded.
"Say, any sign of the Free Company?"
"Oh, they're all here! Along with the Privvy Council and all!".
"Always exciting having the Company present. Hope they won't tear up the place like last time, though. Changing the complete interior of a bAAR every forthnight drives the expenses up..."
"Say, did you do your Venice part yet, Norg?"
"Nope. I got the files, though... I'll need to play my three years soon..."
 
This bAAR is a great idea...


“- I told you I will deliver it before the end of the week.
- …
- Yes, I know I’d said the same last time. I apologized already.
- …
- It is not the same, I prom…”
The conversation ended abruptly as apparently the other interlocutor had hang up the phone. The young men whispers in bad mood: “Bastards ! Editors are all bastards…”. His slim, tall silhouette walked back slowly to the counter.
“- D’ya get into troubles, bloke ?” tries to sympathised the tender.
“- You name it. I am in debt to the neck ! I am supposed to handle my manuscript at the end of each week, and I have done nothing new since a while. I was having enough papers to see it coming but I don’t any more. I am in trouble…
- Got a wife, or a girlfriend, he ?
- How did you guess ?
- Bah. You ain’t the only one. This is the usual story: Get a contract, begin to write, spend lot of times with your pals around in our bAAR, and your wife get mad at you, yell and scream for divorce.
- Hopefully that’s not so bad. And she was right; I much need and enjoyed hiking in the Alps, instead of conquering worlds again and again… And it’s also my fault; I spend my last weekend investigating the Cult of the Unseeing Eye, instead of writing…
- The cult of what ?
- Never mind… Get me another glass of this excellent 17 years old Islay Mist.
- So, what ya gonna do ?
- My problem is that I already owe a lot to many people. And being away for nearly 3 weeks makes things worse. I will probably spend a few evenings just reading them, instead of writing for me.
- Nah. They will forgive you for a few comments on their posts. Authors, they’re all the same, believe me… Oversized egos if y’ask me. All of them wanting to conquer worlds, and write it for posterity. For God’s sake, most of them ain’t reporting when they failed, did they ?
- Mmmmhh. That’s not fair, some did. That’s the fun. I’d like the Pirates story myself.
- Yeah ! That was a good one, if I know one…<<Now this 'ere, Jemmy, this be a fine piece of work indeed.>> Ha ha ha...
- Also I have been struck by the “white page” curse. But I think I’ll overcome it now. Some people gave me ideas without even noticing, he he.
- Would be bad luck otherwise.
- Hopefully, it won’t last, but I’ll probably be late, and the Editor will try kill me…
- Arf ! If you conquer worlds you should be able to avoid a nasty Editor.
- I better go before I meet the old prof Ebbesen or ws2_32 and begin to talk endlessly with them again. I’d also like to read WAAR of the Worlds and The Devaraja of Ayutthaya. Oh, God, there is so much work…
- Good luck bloke, see ya soon I supposed…”
 
Nobody noticed the small guy in the dark corner, the one with the red eyes whom they called the Sorcerer.
His eyes were red from the huge amounts of texts he had to read recently. It was like an addiction. He always wanted more of the stuff which they called AAR. Fortunately, there were some good
dealers around,and this bAAR would surely help him to get his 'fix'. Such as a new chapter to Shawng's Gelre AAR , or an update to MrT's splendid The Rivers Run Red, or RRR, as the insiders called it. And there were so many new threads, like MKJ's Byzantium AAR , or Pan Zagloba's Ottomans .
Yes, Sorcerer would have no problems to get his daily read. The quality was getting better, too, so the future looked bright to a young reader. 'And one day,' Sorcerer thought, ' one day I'll be
a writer, too.'
 
Alone at a table at Sytass. He had a single malt scotch before him and the stains on the worn table told a tale of more, similar glasses before this one. He gestured wildly as he spoke into his cell phone.

"Ted, you got to stick to our deal. A deal is a deal after all."
...
"I don't care that your CNN staff demands regular breaks and vacations. You signed them over for the duration of my AAR and that's the end of the story."
...
"No, I haven't clarified that with the union, given the short period I'll require their assistance I don't think this should be necessary."
...
"Ted, I don't use them up. They all volunteered, remember? It wasn't like you had much of a choice."
...
"No."
...
"Yes."
...
"Agreed, I will give them a lunch break. But they can have their breakfast at home before they arrive on the set."
...
"Yes. Are we through? I'm getting another call."
...
"Yes, I like you, too. The check's in the mail."

Sytass pressed a button on the cell phone, than took a swig of his golden scotch before bringing the phone back to his ear.

"Hey, Mr. Maxwell, how's it going?"
...
"I told you it wasn't my fault that the American Independence episode was cancelled prematurely. We had techical difficulties."
...
"I tell you what: you pay me for the English Heart franchise, then I think about making another installment."
...
"No, I never got that check."
...
"How should I know where you or your inapt secretaries sent it?"
...
"I think we should talk about it later."
...
"Because I promised the mayor of Hamburg to do a major feature about Holstein, focusing on a family history."
...
"No, it's not a rip off!"
...
"Yours was bound for several installments, his is one piece of work."
...
"Listen, Mr. Maxwell, call me again when you've calmed down. I'm not going to accept that tone from you."

Sytass hung up on Mr. Maxwell, switching his mobile phone off completely. He mumbled some curses and not so friendly associations of Maxwell and not so common forms of sexcuality and eventually emptied his glass with one swig.
 
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For a new guy he had made quite a scene. He yelled out something like, "Post some encouraging comments you lazy bastAARds!" Well, that's not really what he said, but it still caused quite a stir. The commotion was dying down now.

When he wasn't preaching about feedback the new guy was going around campaigning for the OscAARs.

"Come on LD, best rookie, it's gotta be me."

"Not now, kid. Can't you see the lady is dancing,"

"Ok, ok, but just check out the billboard outside or the infomercial it's on at 5:00."

"You got prime time? That must of cost a fortune."

"Ummm, not really. It's A.M."

"Oh." With that he slinked off to find another hapless victime to listen to his ramnblings.

The OscAARs were going to be tough. Thank God, Prufrock and his The Great Game Redux- Sibir weren't in the running. Paying off Sharur really worked out nicely. Still The Devaraja of Ayutthaya by Lt. Tyler was out there, and CrinkledSkull's (he still wanted to get look at that guy) The D'Ampezzo Family Decision. Oh and of course, The Rise of the Japanese Empire by Meiji-Tenno in the mix too.

No pushovers in that crowd. Still he had hopes the combination of From the Pope's Basement (An Ottoman AAR) and A Pawn No Longer - A History of Prussia, along with his massive media campaign would put him over the top.

"Hey buddy! You want a drink?" It was the bartender.

"Yeah give me a Jack and Coke . . . hold the Coke."

"Say, ain't you the guy on the billboard outside? I've seen your face all over."

"Sorry about that. I told them just to put my name up." That little foul up might cost him some votes.


Note: If I mentioned anyone as a rookie when in fact you aren't, sorry. Still like your work. My apologies to any rookie I missed, especially if you've seen me on your threads. I'm not sure who's a rookie and who isn't.
 
A dark corner, and a punch-drunk from Sweden

Telling everyone stupid enough to amble into hearing distance, while drinking cognac from a smallish glass.

I tell ya, as soon as I'm done with my AAR some time in 2004 I'll start a new, and even crueller one.

I'll call it, 'Bella gerant alii, tu, felix Austria, nube!' and the ground rules will be, I hope, amusing.

What's that, noone asking for my house rules? As if I would care, I have been here for ten minutes, which is five more than I had expected to get off. You can't seriously expect me to wait until anyone cares about what I have to say.


A beeper fires off in Nikolai IIs pocket.

Whoops. Ok, I wont declare any wars, I won't offer any peaces, I will accept any peace offering of any province, and any offer of money that is substancially larger than my treasurys contens at the moment. This should be interesting I feel, I don't have time to try to remember if I had any more ideas

Nik was now running towards the exit.

But if you have any additional thoughts you can tell me when I pop in the next time, or just call mee...

The door slammed shut behind the disappearing back.
 
LD sloshed his single malt around a few remaining icecubes, casually ignoring the silicone enhanced beauty writhing on the stage like a cat on broken glass.

He glanced over at the ever-verbose MrT, and grinned. People wondered why he had insisted on sectioning part of The bAAR off for the more pleasant side attractions in life. There was a reason. It was the only way to shut MrT up. When faced with undulating masses of female flesh, MrT positively drooled, his mouth hanging open, slack jawed, like a beached Grouper. He was also silent, except for the odd *gulp* or *pant*.

Chuckling to himself, LD took a drink, and looked about the establishment. He nodded in satisfaction, leaned over, and shouted, "I like this, 'T'. I like this a lot. I think a sticky is in order."

So it was said, so it was done.

--------------------------------------

OOC: Very nice initiative, Rictus. Hats off, young Jedi. Here, have a beer, on me :D

EDIT: This may not be a permanent sticky, as we're kind of close to being 'over-stickied' at the moment. I'll base it on the activity of the thread. ;)
 
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I walked over to the table where Bruce and Chris sit, people watching notice a glowing lightbulb over my head, from across the bAAR Kieth yells out "Watch out, he's got another bloody Idea" laughter fills the bAAR

"So mates, how goes it" I asked as I had a seat. Bruce gave a curse as my bumping the table caused his damp cookie to break off and fall in his milk.:p

Chris gave a chuckle "Aye, you get to go fishing once again Bruce, here ya go Jerry, have a beer mit your cookie aye!."

"No thanks" Jerry waves to the waitress to bring him cookies and milk, Euro-Maniac rushed over and set them on the table. "Thanks Mary, here's two bits can you do a belly dance for us while I chat with my mates?" She begins to dance.

"So I was thinking"

"Thats scary" Bruce blurted as he finally fished his soggy cookie out of his milk

"Well, maybe after we find out just how many people are going to come to the Con2003, maybe we could expand it. Say if Keith (Uglyduck) comes maybe we can get other forums involved."

Just then Mary bumped the table with her tush, and another one of Bruce's cookies broke off into his milk, he cursed aloud and the whole bAAR gave a glance.:D

"For example if we get a smaller than expected list of those to show, we could get another forum such as the RPG forum involved too. They are talented writers too, creating many plots and stuff ya know, plus it could expand our activities for the weekend."

"How so?" Chris asked while dipping a cookie in his beer.

"Well, I was thinking of having a roleplaying event; heck, much of this forum is built on roleplaying anyhow, what better way to have fun and do an activity than roleplaying aye?"

Just then Bruce fished his soggy cookie out of the milk and gave me a curious look, just as I began to bring my cookie out of the milk he bumped the table and caused it to break off and drop into the milk, causing a splash to splatter my face, We laughed and watched the end of Mary's dance.:)
 
LD: Ouch, that hurts! :D Would you really want a kid that small driving a car? :eek:

The always excitable Sharur ran from person to person in the bAAR, looking for opinions.

"Ah, there's Prufrock! Say, Prufrock! What would YOU like to see in my next, err, first AAR?"

Sharur whipped out his sign up sheet and handed Prufrock a pen.
 
And I go to the bAAR and I do a good day's work and I worry. So I put on my shades and I slip into the shadows, ready to evict the troublemakers - Norgesvenn is attempting to drink tequila while smoking, it is only a matter of time - and I worry, nevertheless. And there is a good reason that I'm worried. And it isn't aliens and it isn't the lack of serenity.

And then I grab that punk Eochaid and deliver him to a better world by means of a nearly horizontal trajectory through the wall for misspelling my name, and I don't even rip his arm off for stepping on my foot. I'm feeling sort of mellow, really.

And then I crush the insignificant dreams of some wannabe conqueror - sure, I'm impressed you annexed the Palatinat. Well done. Now try playing on easy rather than very easy.

But let's face it. Despite repeated attempts, I'm getting mild and feeble as I age. Why, I let Backpack survive practically unscathed despite him breaking rule number zero in his very recent AAR about Bourbonnais. He'll probably blame the Devil. They always do, last thing before I stuff them into the cuisinart.

Damn, I'm getting soft. I could swear that.... Ooops. Sorry, Storey. Didn't mean to wring your neck. I thought I saw a Possum.
 
A crazed Scotsman walks into the bar, slapping the back of a swarthy looking fellow with a long suffering look.
"I tell ye Mota, you should 'ave seen the look on that wanker's face when you told him he had to convert to Orthodoxy, priceless! Eh, eh?"
Mota simply grumbles and heads to the bAAR.
"I'll have a double Cevlesh, with extra Mon."
"...uh what?"
"Barbarians! There's a copy of the recipe in the Library of Alexandria, go get it!"
"Sorry to tell you this Mota, but the Library burned down several millenia ago.."
"Damn this century!"
And so, Mota storms out, and through time, attempting to gain the last copy of the Cevlesh Drink Recipe in... The Undying Tale or One Man's Quest for Alcoholic Bliss.
 
*peers at sign-up sheet*

*hiccups*

Which one do I sign? There's two.

*waves pen back and forth*

I'm going to sit here quietly and sober up. If you'd like, you can describe it to yourself as me "cleaning my apartment" or "grocery shopping". It should take a few hours either way.
 
Points Profrock at the correct sign.

"Hey, did you hear Sharur's talking about doing his first solo AAR!"

"Nah, the guy NEVER writes his own stuff? I'm not that drunk."

"No, really, he is go over to the 'Nobody Expects...' thread and tell him what you want him to write about."

"Ok, sure, umm, just as soon as I can see letters well enough to (hiccup) read."
:D
 

"Quiet today?". MrT was once again bumming Norgesvenn's cigarettes. "How on Earth can you buy these ones? They're stronger than sucking on a chimney!".
Norgesvenn smiled.
"Instant nicotine gratification, see. Nah, it's not quiet. In fact, it's been busy. Even Sharur's decided to do a solo effort".
"So I heard. I bet he'll do just fine".
"Me too. But you should stop buying him triple drinks. He can't write then. Anyway, I heard Mimir's teaching himself how use Exchange Server or something...?"
"Yes, so it seems. I think he should focus on Manchu instead..."

"See the mad Scotsman over there?"
"The one with the kilt?"
"What gave him away?"
"The kilt I suppose"
"Yeah... well, anyway, he's made his own Grand Campaign. And made more shields and flags than you'd even imagine possible...Now he's even writing an undying tale, eh."
"Busy character, eh?"
"Very busy, eh"
"Seen LD, eh?"
"I think he's on the set helping Scorcese, eh"


Being a bAARtender was a refreshing change from being a barfly. Norg enjoyed being both. But at 9 am it was mineralwater and coffee time. And despite it giving him a different sort of tan, the tequila drinking while smoking bit last night had put him off for a while.

 
The Looney Scot sat at the bar, sipping an old Scotch. He strikes up a conversation with the chainsmoking norseman across the bar.
"Aye so what brings ye here? Ahh right you work here of couirse, I should ave read your aura more carefully. Well ye know why I'm ere then? Well you see I reprogrammed the Ottomans and they're apparently on a rampage outside."
Shouting in Turkish can be heard outside, along with explosions
"...And the bleedin Pope blames me! What did I do? Well sure I made them smarter, but there's no need getting all pissy and excommunicating me is there aye?"
 
The day after, everything was going on as usual in the bAAR. People were drinking and watching the girls dancing on stage.

So almost nobody noticed Eochaid when he walked in, wearing a sign on both his chest and back. He just walked twice around the room, being careful not to step on anybody's foot, and left. Without saying anything.

On the sign you could read:

"Check out my first AAR!! The best AAR Ever!!
 
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