"That's jus ole Henk. He comes 'round when ever he can put together a few coppers."
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Ulfrec and Geri you are finally able to get inside the inn. At this time of the night you notice that the tavern ahs been cleaned up and the swept. The innkeeper is sleeping in a chair with a broom propped up against his shoulder. He doesn't seem fazed by anything right now.
The dwarf Bar Keeper farts when Calain speaks about Imoedae being the greatest example of what a good person can achieve and a just world. 'Bah, everyone knows the Father of Creation, Torag, is the best." He breaks wind again.
The stout bartender nods and pulls a draft. "Here try this one, it's a honey spiced ale, it's the town's specialty. On account of the apiary we keep north of the town." He slides the draft towards Bron. "B'fore all the trouble wit demons, undead and bandits we use to be famous fer our ale." His hands keep moving as he fills a snack bowl with salty fried chips and pushes it forward. Then he immediately begins to wipe the bar top with a clean rag. "If your gonna go on an adventure you may want to git yer gear at Ariel's Exlirs or Quint's Arms they have most the common stuff you'll need. If you have lots of coin weighin' yer purse down then Varl's Edge is the best smithy in town." |