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A tipsy old Dwarf backs through the front door of the lodge, dragging a large sack up to the bar "Free mushrooms, come gett'em while their damp n smellin' of the earth!" He hoists his finds up the bar and pushes them at Seedy and head nods towards the kitchen out back.
"Maybe a couple shots of Dwarven fire water in trade? With a meal I ain't gotta cook myself fer once?" He pulls out some of the most perfect maitake mushrooms you've ever seen. "Goes great with a steak..."
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The goblin cautiously picks up the mushroom and sniffs at it. A look of pleasant surprise corsses his face, and he scoops a large handful of mushrooms into a wooden bowl nearby. "You got yourself a deal, my good dwarf! I don't have any steaks at the moment, but I bet these would taste mighty fine with a slab off the joint of mutton we have roasting in the back." He pours the dwarf two fingers of a golden liquid from a dark bottle, then carries the bowl of mushrooms into the back. When he returns a few moments later, the mushrooms are cleaned and chopped. He dumps about half of them into a small pot, which he hangs from a hook near the larger stew pot, then dumps the rest of them into the stew itself. "It'll be a few minutes before food's ready."
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He nods "Ole Scratch here ain't got nothin' but time... unless uh course there's any work kickin' round for a grizzly woodsman with a sweet tooth fer anythin' fermented..." He takes a gingerly sip of the liquor, doing his best to restrain himself from shooting it back. By the looks of the centuries on his face, ole Scratch ain't got as many years left as he lets on.
"Ahhh, now that's worth all them damned stirges I had to pepper down to get them danged shrooms. Buzzin' sonsabeeches!" Scratch gets up and heads over to the hearth, peering down inside the pots and giving them a good stir to release the aromas.
"Mutton n maitake be just fine. They go good with any red meat for sure. Not bad with wild cat neither, but the light meat doesn't pair quite as good as the red." He heads back to the bar and pulls up a chair with a back on it, drags over a stool and puts up his feet.
"This place seems pretty quiet. Everyone out in the field or is there a big drunk on somewhere I don't know about?" He leans in close, just in case there is. He don't wanna miss it...
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I think there's been a big ker-fuffle up at the Lodge recently Zarina replies. Nearly everyone's been running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
And I've been waiting for another underwater mission
"Underwater mission eh? I bet ole Seedy's gonna need someone with yer expertise at the john out back after that mutton takes hold." Scratch rubs his belly and smiles before busting out with a guffaw as the situation plays out in his old and inappropriate mind.
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"Gross, Scratch" Seedy says, emerging from the back with a platter of sliced mutton. He scoops a pile of glistening mushrooms from the pot, dumps them onto the sliced mutton, and sets the plate in front of the dwarf. He refills the man's drink, then gives a toothy grin, and says "dig in!"
"Yep, not a sight for the faint o heart. That's why I live in the woods most the time." He says through mouthfuls of greasy meat and simmered mushrooms. "Good stuff little fella. Make sure ya keep the rest of them shrooms in cool storage else they mold up. Kinda odd ta have mushrooms get moldy if ya think about it.. better than turnin' inta one of them oozies at least."
Scratch slurps down the last of the liquids from the plate and lets out a coughing belch. "Hit the spot, hit the spot." He mumbles, catching a whiff of the murmurs on the air "Head shot rot wut?"
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"I think I'll pass sir. I find not ingesting strange things does well for the palate and my general health."
"Mushrooms ain't strange stranger. Underground folks been livin' off fungus, and sometimes fungus livin' off us, fer centuries on centuries. Just think of 'em as plants that ain't green." Scratch gives a head point over to the pot just in case Jaune changes his mind.
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The burly woodsman strides in, carrying a large leg of wild boar over his shoulder. He cocks an eyebrow and inhales deeply through his nose.
"Do I smell mushrooms cooking?"
He asks in his gruff voice.
Brünwulf strides up to the bar and drops the large leg of boar on top.
"Was on a big hunt today, Seedy. Figured there'd be some hungry folks around here. If'n those be mushrooms cookin', throw this here leg on the fire. Got some fresh picked sage and wild garlic, too."
Brünwulf sets a small burlap pouch filled with fresh herbs on the counter.
"Oh! I'll take a flagon o' mead, my good friend."
He says with a wink to the barkeep.
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"Geez, at this rate I'm not going to have to go to the market for a week! Thanks, Brunwulf. Mead's comin' right up!"
"Best make that two Seedy. Don't want the hunters dyin' o thirst eh?" Scratch does his best to weasel himself into more free alcohol as he gets up and checks out the hind quarter, unwrapping it a bit.
"Nice n clean. Looks good. Gonna go great with them mushies. Hopefully the smell of roastin' pig n garlic gets this place bustlin' again soon." He offers up a handshake to the woodsman, clearly the fine food and liquor starting to warm up his social side.
Afterwards he wipes his empty bowl out with a bar rag and dishes out some fungus for the blonde woman to try. "Name's Scratch, Scratch Steeltoe." He slides the bowl over and adds in a bit of advice "Best shrooms you'll ever taste, but if its yer first time best ta go easy just in case yer belly ain't use'ta such things."
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Brünwulf grips the dwarf's forearm and gives a warriors' handshake.
"Well met, Scratch. The name's Brünwulf. Just bagged that boar earlier today. Most of the rest of it is hangin' in my tree-trunk smoker. The parts I don't use I give to the druids that live in the woods nearby. They offer blessings to gods of nature and such and use whatever's left of the creatures for spells, clothing, and weapons. That way, none of the animal is wasted. Very admirable, I must say."
He turns to the blonde druid standing nearby and offers a friendly smile and a respectful nod.
"Well met, Zarina."
Brünwulf looks toward the kitchen and inhales deeply through his nose.
"Mmm-mmm! Those mushrooms and garlic smell soooo good with that boar. I can't wait to get a plate of that roast. Tonight, everyone will feast like kings!"
He slams his flagon into Scratch's mug with a hearty laugh then turns to the tavern crowd and hoists his flagon.
"Huzzah!!! To us Pathfinders!!!"
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Zarina nods. Where do you think my crocodile skin bikini came from? Got that when we killed a croc under a flooded theatre. Goblins got the rest as a gift. She opens her shirt so that Brunwulf can see the bikini top underneath.
Or queens ... or princesses Zarina smirks. Yeah. Princess Zarina. That has a nice ring to it.
She joins in the toast with a Huzzah in return then requests some more berry enhanced rum.
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Wow ... these are good. Where did you find them?
Scratch gives a chuckle as Zarina touches the 'third rail' of mushrooming "Woah now, lemme pass on a few lessons my great gramp told me centuries ago. One: never ask a woman her age. Two: never turn down a free drink. Three: never ask a hunter about their huntin' spots!" He grins and laughs.
"But they grow in the forest, around the base of big ole oaks. Comin' outta the earth, not the wood." He winks before turning to shake hands with Brünwulf "Huzzah! To a heavy harvest, full bellies, and no hangovers!" He gives Seedy a wink, hoping maybe he can help with the last part.
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About equally tall as he is squat, an aging dwarf walks into the bar, climbing up the stool with powerful arms, and, clumsily wiping away one wispy strand of thin grey hair from his face, squints at the taps on the bartender's side of the counter with some difficulty.
"Any stouts?" his voice is low, meek, uncertain.
He looks around the room to see if there are any other "special agents" reporting, wondering if he is the only one called back to the maze...
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"Howdy friend" the bartender says, setting down the glass he was polishing. "I've got a nice keg of stout from the Thirsty Alpaca down in Otari. Their brewer--a fellow practitioner of the faith--just increased production of their house beers and I talked her into shipping me a few kegs." The explanation done, he sets a flagon before the dwarf, brimming with thick foam.
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The aged dwarf nods to the barkeep, and places coin on the table, taking the flagon up, and shoving his face into the thick foam to get a hearty gulp "This is good" he considers saying something else, perhaps a thoughtful comparison to dwarven beers he has drunk, but the moment is passed.
Soon enough, a stranger sidles up next to him, unknowingly invading his person space, to which our awkward hero squirms as she introduces herself... and his mind goes blank! What do I say again!? the thoughts move quickly, too much so to grasp, and, with great willpower, he barely pulls himself together, talking sideways towards her, unready to make eye contact "Knab"
His name is all that he is able to get out... he freezes in anticipation of another question or comment, his mug half full, waiting for him...
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Knab's anxiety seems to ease when Zarina restores to him the comfort of a personal bubble "Woodsedge Lodge reported some mysterious anomaly in the Maze of the Open Road. I am sent to investigate" he continues to drink from his mug, before awkwardly returning "When is your next Society Mission? Hopefully one that will employ your talents with the natural elements?"
Sticking his pinky into his ear hole, he twists his wrist, the action causing the friction to "squeak" audibly, facing forward having put his question into the air, his receptive organ "cleared" so as to better make use of limited hearing.
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Zarina frowns. My speciality is the underwater environment she replies. But there hasn't been one since I got back from the Crashing Waves Monastery. And all this kerfuffle with the various lodges ... looks like I'm being left out at the moment. Hopefully something will come up soon.
Hope your upcoming mission goes well she adds. It seemed more like one for a arcane expert
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It is said that dwarves sometimes move in twos. Perhaps there are experts who study the subject, and can testify as to the veracity of the saying. Perhaps not.
In any case, pouring the rest of the draught down his throat in a single gulp, and thunking onto the ground from the stool, it is with sheer awkwardness that Knab looks towards Zarina as if to speak, then turns instead to walk towards the door, out, and into the street, rifling through his pocket for his voucher redeemable for purchase aboard a vessel headed for Galt...
The door opens and a snowy owl enters, closely followed by a young half elf woman wearing leather armor with a shortbow strapped across her back. The owl flies over to perch at the edge of the bar and begins to preen his feathers.
The owl continues to preen.
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The young archer glares at the owl. "Superb Owl Sunday isn't even a real holiday. It's just something you made up. Your ego is really out of control. Besides it's not even Sunday yet. It's Oathday. Now come with me to the harbor before we miss our boat and get in trouble."
"Screech!" The owl flaps his wings.
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"You can't go on strike. That's blackmail!" She stamps her foot and glares at the owl for several seconds before heaving an exasperated sigh. "Okay fine. I'll read your stupid poem."
She climbs atop the bar and pulls a crumpled piece of paper from a belt pouch. Clearing her throat, she reads aloud to the assembled patrons.
"Rams can climb,
and tigers are orange,
yet neither creature,
can truly challenge,
the most majestic of beasts,
the greatest of fowl,
everyone's favorite,
the fine, superb owl."
Stuffing the paper back into her pouch, the half-elf adroitly hops to the floor. Her voice drips with sarcasm as she addresses the owl. "Are you happy now Your Majesty? Can we go catch our boat now?"
The owl blinks at his friend and hoots softly.
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A very mousy humanoid pokes his head out from behind a pile of books to applaud, sees the owl and dives back behind cover.
Will the Following join me for OUTPOST V
Link
cmlobue / Tieri the Tooth Faerie
Frozen Frost / Avery Wings
UncleFroggy / Kaitlyn Deathsbane
muzouka / Ekaterina Elvana
Warah / Illnore Thornbriar