Xanthar Hammerhand |
"The Broken Tankard, eh? Maybe not the ideal name for a tavern. Are we expected to drink our ale right from the barrels?" Xanthar muses aloud. "Still, as long as the food is hot, the ale is cold and the beds are reasonably soft, it sounds like our best option to pass a comfortable evening and I suspect those will be few and far between in the coming days."
Tomkin the Doughty |
Xanthar Hammerhand |
"I suspect you'll find secrets aplenty where we're headin', mage. By Dwer's beard, my left elbow is tingling and THAT is usually a sure sign that trouble is on the horizon."
ScytheMaster |
By the time you site the Broken Tankard it is early evening. You crest a low hill to see the road leading down past it. A light drizzle has begun falling from a sky that has gradually got more leaden as the afternoon has worn on. The inn is surrounded by a high stone wall with an open wooden gate giving entry to its courtyard. Several lamps are lit which illuminate the general area around the building in the growing gloom. Far to the North, storm clouds are gathering and a brief flash of lightning illuminates a towering tor in the distance. What looks like a ruined structure could be glimpsed atop it.
Xanthar Hammerhand |
"Rain. How I despise rain! It never rains in the glittering halls of Kelbhad, you know. How you surfacers put up with this, I'll never know. It makes this night spent in a warm, dry inn all the more desirable. Come, lads, let's get inside and get something warm in our bellies and something cold in our throats to wash away the dust of the trail."
Xanthar Hammerhand |
Tomkin smiles:
"Bandits can grow quite tall you know."
He dismounts and leads his dog and pony.
Tomkin is LITERALLY a dog and pony show. ;)
"Good walls make good neighbors, mage." Xanthar replies then shakes his head wondering where he came up with that phrase, something about it seems...familiar.
Xanthar looks around for a stable boy or just a stable to house his mount, then proceeds into the tavern whistling a jaunty drinking song in anticipation of the libations to come.
Sinnoth A. Jorinn |
Sinnoth takes a look around examining the inn for signs of danger.
per: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
He follows his compatriots inside to the inn's walls and waits with his companions for someone from the stables to show up sliding of his horse and putting his hands on his greatsword.
Xanthar Hammerhand |
I'm sorry did I miss something? Isn't this a known tavern that people frequent? The last two posts have made it seem like this is some Scooby-Doo style haunted tavern.