The cold's stiff as corpses and the only thing stiffer than corpses is the door to the inn. Between the pounding gale and the slightly warped doorframe, it takes all your strength just to get it to creak.(visual)
Suddenly, the door gives way, announcing your presence as it slams open. All conversation ceases and you're met with a long stare from from all the inn's occupants. All of them are of remarkably Ulfen persuasion and not the kind of men and women you'd want to to cross. The stares begin to linger on just a little too long...
Until a tall, middle-aged woman with golden hair calls out, "Shut the damn door, this cold's stiff as corpses!" Instantly, the vikings spring to life, jovially ushering you in and relieving you any wet coats and the like. Promises of hot food and drink are made while a place is cleared by the fire. And before you can take even another step towards the warmth, the inn is already filled once again with laughter and conversation.
Welcome to World's End.
Sven shook the snow off of his broad shoulders, and looked around warily. What was a place like this doing out in th snowy wastes? Who were all these people? He dug around in his pockets to ensure that he had his coin. If he was here, he might as well get a drink to warm his bones...
"Shut the damn door, this cold's stiff as corpses!"
"Ohhh, you got that right," says the small halfling as he totters in. Once his heavy cloak is off he is revealed to be wearing a motley suit of patches in all sorts of bright colors, with little odds and ends hanging from his belt and straps over his chest.
He begins rubbing his chest with his hands. "I'd like a table close to the fireplace... actually in the fireplace might be nice, considering how numb I'm feeling."
He comes up to the bar. "Got any hot cider? Or anything hot... ah yes. That's the thing." He drinks deeply from the mug. "Better... aaah. I'm Faolan, by the way. When my fingers aren't little blocks of ice I might put on a little show for you." he winks.
Ynjan had been walking for days, the last of the supplies gone even, and eating cold snow for water gets boring real fast.
Yes the cold did not effect Ynjan as much and many, but the wind and ice still went into your eyes and snow still melted down your back!.
Then up ahead a light in the cold windy day. Ynjan walked to the door which took some getting open, and then when is side, hard looks and silence.
Ynjan pulled down his hood and smiled at the grim faces looking at the door. He winked at them and held up Ynjans faiths most holy of items.
An ale mug, shaking it, as if to say, "where is the bloody ale?"
Then a woman voice and the chatter started again, Ynjan closed the door as the woman asked.
Then walking over to a table took a chair and sat. A bar maid came over and filled the mug he held.
Looking around at those around the table, Ynjan clicked the mug with others and downed it in one.
Ynjan is tall and willow thing, fine clothing of a low noble, a thin blade on pouched belt, He or is it she, as the fine feminine looks of an elf. Gold tanned skin, golden hair and amber eyes. The table is almost empty, and Ynjan waits to see if others come to sit and drink.
As you trickle in, the existing tavern-goers are quick to flock to you with questions.
A group of burly, axe-clad warriors gather around Sven and quickly put a mug into his hands. "Those thick arms of yours mark you for a fighter, but I can't spot a weapon on you. Are ye a blacksmith perhaps?"
At Faolan's promises of entertainment a grey bearded man makes a show of setting a gold harp down. "Finally, something else for you louts to focus on," he says to his table with a grin. His companions shout back mirthfully, "We asked you to stop playing hours ago!"
Ynjan finds his (her?) table filled almost immediately after sitting down. "Don't think you'll be hiding off in the corner, this is a place of merriment! Yer looking thin as a sapling. This'll put a beard on your face." A massive platter of some sort of roast meat is set on the table and the men and women all begin pulling bits off to eat. You're not quite sure what kind of an animal could produce so large a cut, but it smells heavenly.
Bjorn tumbles through the door, shivering to get warm again.
To nobody in particular, "Brr! It sure is something out there, isn't it? I haven't been this cold since the last time I was this cold!"
He moves toward a table before a twinkle hits his eye, and he turns around. He opens the door once again, briefly, to cast create water on the front of the door and the stoop.
He shuts the door and once again seeks out a seat, chuckling to himself.
Ynjan flips up a hand and the blade leaps out into it from a boot, with a slash Ynjan cuts of a chunk of meat is just about to take a bite.
"This is no good, I'm out of ale, humm"
looks at the empty tanked held in a hand.
"Need more ale, so to the bar I go"
Making way to the brightly clothed handling, sloping the mug down, Ynjan looks at the handling.
"Ynjan Ragnavold is my name my good halfing, how about I buy you a drink and you tell me how you came by such wonderful clothing"
Ynjan runs a hand over an arm and the clothing Ynjan has on changes to match those of the handling.
"I do so like the look, and do tell me about yourself"
Bjorn notes Ynjan's fancy clothes and uses disguise self to match him as best as possible.
He also approaches the halfling. "On the other hand, maybe you've had enough to drink. You're seeing double."
Spins and looks at the new comer
"Now this could start a trend, tell me about yourself and I will add you to the drinks round"
Ynjan says with a smile.
Sven lifted the mug to his lips with hesitation. ”Hunter. Sell meat n’ skins. Make a mean boggard pie.” After taking a gulp he said ”And who’re you? Is this a warrior lodge?”
With a wide grin, he extends his hand genially. "Name's Bjorn! I do impressions. Now about that drink..."
Waves for more drinks and puts a gold coin on the bar.
"Names Ynjan Ragnavold and that sounds fascinating, how did you get a skill like that?"
Ynjan hands Bjorn an ale and then drinks his ale half down the mug.
A pixie pops out of Bjorn's ear and jumps down his shirt, spinning around until coming to a rest around his belly-button.
"Believe it or not, it came from drinking too much with what turns out to have been a fey prince. Do you have any idea how hard it is to rid yourself of these buggers? It's not without its perks, though.
See that big guy over there ? I bet you 5 gold I can make him sneeze."
A garish pink arrow shoots out of Bjorn, circles around a bit, then vertically goes down onto Sven.
Sven sneezed, spilling his drink. Now, it wasn’t hard to tell what had happened. A garish pink arrow tended to stand out. His face darkening, he got (unsteadily) to his feet and started to stomp over towards Bjorn. He could feel his anger rising, and with it the wolf inside. He tried to tell himself to calm down. To laugh it off. It didn’t work.
”Fey tricks...” He (literally) growled. He was almost to the spellcaster. Even he didn’t know what he was going to do when he reached him.
As soon as Sven sneezes, Bjorn shouts out, "Nailed it!"
When he comes over, he laughs at the big man and slaps him on the back. "They're the worst, aren't they? Alright Ynjan, you can give him my winnings. He looks like he could use another drink or two or three."
Ynjan has a look of utter perplexnessness horror and shock on his/her face...
In a high pitched nobles voice sputters out.
"What, err no NO I have idea what this here gentleman is talking about, winnings in deed, to think I would be complicit making a fool of you in public sir no no, Look this man here just came up to me and copying my clothing said. I will bet I can make that fine man spill his ale but me being part of, look I don't want any trouble how about I... and so on and so on... "
Ynjan starts to claps at the two of them, at the end Ynjan voice becoming normal . Then Ynjan add in a louder voice so the few around can hear.
"Well done, no really very well done. I mean its a great con, love it, Let me get this right, you spot a noble looking mark, one of you comes over, offers a bet to shame the other, and before the mark can say no, do it, the other comes over all angry and in fear the chinless fool hands over gold. Bet you can milk em for more than five gold if you get them full scared. Well played no really well done, and nice try but no gold, but I will get you both another drink for showing me such a fine con and so well done."
Then turning to the bar,
"Barman more ales here for my fine new chums."
Looking back he winks and nods at the halfling
"Is the halfling in it too, a pick pocket say, if the marks shows where they keep their gold, he's the dab that takes the rest? would be how I would do it"
When the ale comes hands it out.
"Is the halfling in it too, a pick pocket say, if the marks shows where they keep their gold, he's the dab that takes the rest? would be how I would do it"
When the ale comes hands it out.
"Ah, goodness, no! I may have fast hands, but I use them strictly to entertain! ...In fact, I resent the implication that I have anything but the most sterling of character! But you can make amends by buying the next round." Faolan grins.
"But rather than refer to me as 'The Halfling,' (as distinguished and noble a title as that is,) you may call me Faolan. Faolan Forgael is my name, a name that rings out with joy in the taverns of warmer climes, I assure you. Present here in the north to bring my act to new and virgin audiences."
Faolan takes a deep bow.
"The name means 'brave little wolf,' but I assure you I don't bite. Ha ha!"
"As to my outfit, well, if you want a garment covered in patches you merely need a needle and thread. As to the colors, if I get tired of the pattern I just change it up. You just twiddle your fingers thusly," Faolan makes an odd gesture, "and kalamazoo, you just tap them like this to change them."
Faolan presses his finger onto a red patch, which suddenly turns blue. The next, a green patch, turns pink. And so on...
"As you can see, a very handy fashion accessory. I have a new suit of lights every day!"
He hops up onto a table.
"But now, I think it's time to sing for my supper, as my mother used to say. No, no, I'm not a singer, but I can put on a little show for you."
Faolan pulls out a group of wooden batons with brightly colored streamers on them. He begins to juggle.
Faolan performs a number of tricks, maintaining a steady banter for a while. Often it seems like the items he is juggling change color in midair! After about fifteen minutes, he puts the juggling paraphenalia away. He bows.
"That's enough for now... my hands are still a little numb from the cold. But maybe more later, if the inspiration strikes me. What do you say, fine gentlemen? Is that good enough that you would spare a few pieces of silver for a halfling who braved a blizzard just to entertain you?"
as he gets back down, Ynjan hands Faolan and ale a 5 silver.
"Why master Faolan Forgael that was a fine show and so, coin and ale is your and an a means to apologies for my comments"
Ynjan winks at Bjorn and Sven and says in a joking voice.
"Seems good Faolan here is not after all part of your dastardly gang
When waving over for more ale holds up the holy Flagon of Cayden Cailean.
"Too Cayden Cailean, the best god a drinking man can have. We have ale, we have entreatment, now all we need is a challenge only the reckless drunk would attempt. Who here has such a Cayden challenge?"
Loudly said to the whole Inn.
"A challenge?" By now most of the inn has gathered to watch your antics and from the mass steps forward a hearty but pleasant peasant-like fellow.
"A hunter who acts more like a wolf. A little wolf who can juggle. A faerie trickster. And I'm not quite sure what you are other than cunning and drunk. The winds must have been truly strange to blow you four to our doorstep." He turns to the golden-haired barmaid who's been serving you all night. "Hlin, bring out the mead." As Hlin disappears into a back room somewhere, excited murmurs rise through the crowd. You hear the word 'riddle' mentioned more than once.
"My name is Byggvir. I've never heard of this god of drinking of yours, but I nevertheless challenge all four of you to the riddle game!"
Hlin returns to set four medium sized cups down in front of you. The mead inside sparkles gold in the light of the inn.
"The rules," Byggvir continues, "Are simple. We ask you eight riddles made to test your wisdom and learn of your character. Answer the riddle then down the mead in one swig. There are no right or wrong answers and each riddle will earn you gold - assuming you can stay in your chairs. Fall down and you stop getting paid, but you can of course continue to answer the riddles. So, what say you?"
The entire inn waits expectantly for your replies.
Turning away from the trickser who cursed him, Sven said ”After this man pays me my five gold as weregeld for his actions, I will take part in your little game. I have been wronged and will be recompensed, I care not by who in this group.” He said this with indignation, but it was in part a natural response to the fear he felt. The newcomer had called him a wolf...did he know?! And if so, how?
Ynjan looks at Sven and puts a finger to his lips and whispers..
All in good time, he will pay you from his winnings once we play this game.
The Ynjan looks at Byggvir side ways.
"Well well well, Interesting, but I think we can make it more Interesting. It's not much of a game if there is only one side, so how about this, lets have four from those here to make an apposing team. As you ask so we will ask counter riddles. And as your asking Byggvir I think you your good self should be one member of the other team, So then all we need is three more volunteers so we can get started, who here would like eight free drinks of mead humm"
Byggvir chuckles and shakes his head. "The riddles of this game are not puzzles meant to stump you, but rather...parables, of sorts. We only play with newcomers as there are many here who believe that the word of men and women who are as yet unsullied by the experiences of the world is a word worth hearing. If you wish for a more competitive riddle game I'm sure there are more than a few who'd be happy to indulge you afterwards."
Bjorn's jaw drops in awe at Ynjan's suspicions. "That's the best idea I've heard in ages! You've a devious mind and a generous spirit! I've decided I like you."
Bjorn pats around his person, looking for some money. He fishes out a few coins from a pocket and hands them to Sven. "Here ya go, big boy. I hope that makes it all better."
He hesitates as Sven takes the coins. "Wait... No nevermind, it's probably fine. I'm reasonably certain I keep my cursed coins in a different pocket. If things, other than wolfie over here, start changing color, you may wish to consult a doctor. Or a mortician. Like I said, I'm sure it's fine."
Byggvir seems like an entertaining fellow, and Bjorn is more than happy to participate in the game.
Glaring at Bjorn, slapped the coins on the table. There were some risks not taking, but he’d be damned if he let his honor, or his pride, be damaged. ”A round of mead then. Apparently he’s paying. And the next person to cast a spell on me gets a chair to the head of fist to the jaw. Fair warning.”
Ynjan smiles at his two new friends, slapping each on the back, but then again looks side ways at Byggvir saying back.
"Humm Byggvir I see your dilemma, then let me say this you are newcomers to us as we are to each other, so your words as ours would be as fresh as spring rain, as they say from homely mouths do truths come and there is no more homely place than here me thinks. Our riddles will be as your own, questions is a parable from. All seeking an understanding of ones inner true soul So you see we may be teams but in fact we will be companies on a journey of self discovery, so who will trivial with us?"
The crowd bristles with amusement at Ynjan audacity but Byggvir acquiesces, "Very well, how's this then - every time one of us gives you a riddle, you give them a riddle in return. Fair?"
Ynjan smiles widely
"And the drinking, my god would like that very much, the more the better and even more so seeing how my good new friend here"
Ynjan slaps Sven back.
"has just paid for the mead. Bring our eight mugs of mead for each player, and lets begin"
The crowd cheers and all around you money begins changing hands. It appears the onlookers are making friendly bets on the kinds of answers you'll give. Byggvir steps up as if to formally take the stage. "Tell us now then, bold adventurers, since you think that you know everything...
You may have heard how Freyr desired
the beauteous Gerd for his bed
but lest he fail to win her hand
he sent his servant there instead.
Who offered Gerd gold and youth,
and even Freyr’s own magic sword
but when she constantly refused,
he used dire threats to get her word.
So Freyr obtained his lovely bride
with curses, surrogates and threats.
Should he be proud of such an act?
Or is it one he should regret?"
”I don’t understand...” Sven looked around with uncertainty. ”What kind of question is that? This Freyr should be ashamed of himself, for he is no man. To bribe and threaten a woman, through surrogates, no less? He lacks no honor. His manhood should be removed and left for the crows, for he has no use for it.”
"Drink your mead, Sven, I think you just earned it."
Ynjan looks at the others,
"What do you think?
"Hmm... Doesn't sound very consensual to me. I expect this is a decision she will ultimately make him regret, whether he would naturally or not."
Faolan looks at the man Byggvir.
"A game, eh? Well by all means! Though I have little of my own to bet other than what silver has been thrown into the hat as it were... but I'll make it good. Why not?"
Faolan listens to the little poem about Freyr and Gerd. He thinks for a moment.
"I agree with Sven here. Not only for the reasons he mentioned, but also for some practical ones. If your wife was only convinced to marry you by threats, then you likely will find that you either married a shrew or a limp dishrag, but in either case you are now with a woman with no desire to please you. If I was in a marriage like that, I think I might prefer being a bachelor!"
He downs the mead in one long draught.
"Which I do, mind you. Prefer being a bachelor, that is! Ha!"
Ynjan hears the others out then thinks a moment,
"Humm An interesting tale, of Freyr and Gerd, the assumption is that they are both of the goodly inclined sentient races, human, elf, dwarf and such and my fellows have given views on that. But what if Freyr and Gerd where of the more evil inclined monster race. Say wild Orcs or Giant, who value power and the capacity to violence higher then honor, kindness and companion. Then Gerd would have been with in her cultures rights to shun Feryr until he showed the valued traits by her culture to be a suitable mate. Her honor would demand it in her cultures view. What use a kind and compassionate husband in such a culture. No she would want a strong, Violent male to keep her and your young safe. The Questions at the end are specific to his views of his actions. His pride or regret related to his courting and and marring Gerd. Should he be proud will he regret to know that you need understanding of his culture which is not stated in the poem so it would be unwise to make any judgment until one knows this. True empathy demands it."
Then Ynjan downs the mead in one, puts the mug down with a bang and says.
"Our Turn,
You know a thief that robbed a lord
Of coin and clothing and of sword.
But instead of spending all on women and ale,
In this more complicated tale
He gave all he had taken as patronage
To a poor child impoverished orphanage
The wealth providing feed, clothing and care
and gifted these deprived children a future fair
You know who committed the crime.
and could tell the authorities at any time.
But here is the rub at its very core
Should you do so all wealth will once more
return to the lord as says the law.
Every single last little farthing
leaving the children once more doomed and staving,
Now ask yourself should you tell?
which choice leads whom to hell?"
Looks at Byggvir waiting to see what he says
The mead rolls across your tongues like honey, hits your stomach like fire, and then seems to rise through your body giving a pleasant, heady sensation.
In response to Ynjan's riddle, Byggvir replies, "I don't know a thing about thieves, no use asking me who robbed the lord." He winks and set a coin on the counter for each of you.
Once everyone's answered, the crowd chants in unison, "Fairly spoken, we agree, though some we know may well object,
Now take your coin and drink your mead and let us hear what you say next!"
As Byggvir returns to the throng, a tall shield maiden, blonde and muscular, puts aside her shield next to the table with a loud clang, and look at the you levelly in the eyes. "Tell us now, then, bold adventurers, since you think that you know everything …
My patroness, the illustrious Freyja
though strong as any warrior known
is not averse to using pleasure
if you have something she would own.
She has no shame, should her desires
on your possessions fasten on
and if she doesn’t wish to kill you,
she’ll bed you till you pass them on.
It’s said that those who give their sex
for riches, lose the world’s respect.
So tell us now, what’s your position?
Is she disgraceful or correct?"
"I once had a friend who incessantly asked such silly questions. Myer Briggs, I think it was. No fun at parties, though a decent judge of character.
In this particular case, I believe you've presented us with a false choice. Why can't it be disgraceful and correct?"
Sven nodded. "So the trickser is wise enough to answer this riddle, but not wise enough to refrain from cursing potentially violent strangers. But yes, I agree. What she does is disgraceful, for no shield-maiden should behave as such. Truly, no woman should. But she is correct, that she can get what she wants that way, and who will stop her?" Saying such, he pocketed the gold coin. Though he had to wonder, who were these people who rhymed so easily, and gave away free gold and drink? He wondered if this would end with him getting his throat slit once he was drunk enough...
"Adventurer! Ha! I make no such claim, sir. I am but an entertainer!"
"But I do know everything. Well, between my brother and I, the two of us know everything." Faolan winks.
"As to your story, considering this Freya could likely just clout someone over the head and take their goods, I suppose it's good that at least she gives you something for them! Tell me, are her 'customers' satisfied with her service?"
"If they aren't complaining, why would I?" Faolan laughs.
Waits until the others have done. Looks at the eight mugs of mead meant for the other team. Picking up a Mug, and the gold coin, Ynjan slowly walks into the throng careful not to fill a drop of the amber drink. Until Ynjan is standing in front of Ynjan.
"O Now we agreed terms of play Byggvir, you gave your response, slight that is was and so you earn a coin and this mead. Once you drink your mead and take the coin, I will give my response to the next riddle question. Hurry up Byggvir everyone is waiting."
Ynjan looks at him with an open and kind smile.
Stumbling in from the outdoors, Doern overhears a tall blonde shield maiden asking a riddle of a group.
May as well try to fit in quickly... Doern thinks as he views those in the room.
"She is no disgrace!" Doern answers. "Much as a man may cover himself with tattoos, drink himself into a stupor or call upon people of the night, the fair Freyja is free to do with her body as she wishes, especially if no one is hurt from the ordeal."
I hope I have not intruded on something best left alone...
Hlin has already poured a cup of mead by the time Doern makes his way into the circle. "Yet another of tonight's many surprises. Come join our game traveller. Drink this in one swig and try to stay on your feet."
Stumbling in from the outdoors, Doern overhears a tall blonde shield maiden asking a riddle of a group.
"Oh, hello!" says Faolan, greeting the new arrival. "Come on in and join the party! Sadly, you missed the juggling show, but there may be an encore later."
"Rats, the door didn't freeze over properly. I mean, welcome in, have a drink!"
Byggvir downs the mead without hesitation and slips the coin into his pocket. "Won't say no to a free drink!"
Once he has drunk, ehe Ynjan says with a wink to Byggvir
"With a questions about morality and sex, as a virgin I think it best your ask only those that are not."
Then Ynjan goes and joins that group once more.
"So its our go once more, I have gone so, who has a question they wish to ask this fine Shield maid?
It wasn’t really original, Sven had heard a bard say something to it’s effect one drunken night, but the idea had stuck with him. Looking around he said
”Last night I dreamt that I was a wolf, running through the forest. I remember in vivid detail how it felt to have warm blood run down my chin and fill my maw. This morning I woke a man, in the world that is reality. So, am I a man who dreamt that he was a wolf...or a wolf dreaming that I am a man?”
The warrior maiden glares at Ynjan as she answers Sven's question. "With a question about wolves, I think only a wolf could give an answer."
After you drink your mead, more coins are set in front of you, but the prize has increased this time. However, so have the effects of the mead.
"Fairly spoken, we agree, though some we know may well object,
Now take your coin and drink your mead and let us hear what you say next!"
The next riddler is a rather vulgar little man with buck teeth, unpleasant body odour and a coonskin cap. He grins wickedly and recites, "Tell us now then, bold adventurers, since you think you know everything...
I know a maiden with blond hair
who says, I recollect,
that 'the future belongs to the children'
and 'it’s them we must protect.'
Her red-headed sister on hearing this
rolls her eyes in disbelief:
'The world is ruled by adults,' she says,
and then the dark one speaks:
'What nonsense is this, everyone knows
that wisdom comes with age.'
Which one of the sisters is a dunce?
And which would you call a sage?"
[ooc]Fortitude DC 3 after you drink your mead.
Sven raised his cup to his lips. He wasn’t happy with the answer? What did they know? Who gave gold like this? He waited for one of his companions to take a turn answering.
"Easy. They're all dunces on multiple accounts. Only an idiot argues the irrelevant. Besides, don't the gods rule over man anyway?"
"I'd say that none of them are dunces, they're just all looking at the world through a different lens."
Ynjan dose not drink the mead, and pushes the coin back.
"I could not answer your question so it would not be right I take payment for doing so. And as you answered our question, again some what sparingly these coins are your."
Ynjan adds two more gold to the two offered him and hands her four coins and a drink of mead. Then Ynjan picks up another mug meant for the other team and once more walks over to Byggvir offering it to him .
"Your winnings Byggvir, your team answered another question, drink up"
Ynjan waits until his has to answer the next riddle.