Cottonseed Lodge (PFS2)

Game Master Redelia

Patrick actually smiles a bit. This Mrs Mullinax. Does she sell eggs by any chance? And SoSoaps?

Meadow shrugs. "I guess you could ask her but she really doesn't have all that many chickens. She's my landlady. She runs Mrs. Mullinax's Home for Adventurous Young Ladies. It's a boarding house for lady adventurers. Several pathfinders keep rooms there. Anyway she has a couple of dozen chickens and we sometimes have their eggs for breakfast in the morning. We don't always have enough eggs though so we have porridge or bread and cheese on those days."

Just curious. I was raised on a farm with chickens and cows and such and ... well ... as far as I'm aware, there is nothing like milk straight from the cow and eggs straight from the hen. The fresher the better. I was just hoping to get eggs and stuff straight from a farmer because they're better, instead of having to go through some merchant. Fresh veggies too

Entering the lodge is what appears to be some kind of small mushroom-person with the head of a stuffed bear, carrying what looks like the headless body of the aforementioned stuffed bear. They walk up to the bar, placing the headless bear on one stool and sitting up next to it.

"Why would you want fresh vegetables?" they ask in genuine confusion, cocking the bear head (which does not change expression, or open its mouth). "They are better decayed, we have found. Fresh vegetables don't taste very good. I have not had eggs, though."

The headless bear slumps against the bar a bit.

Patrick looks over to the leshy.

Fungus leshy I presume. he says. Your dietary requirements are a lot different to mine. What would kill me would only make you stronger

The leshy nods, the stuffed bear head barely reacting to the movement. "Fair, I suppose."

They lean over the bar, trying to see what there is. "Do they have moss? I think we'd like moss. If they don't have it that's fine too."

To be honest .. I really do not know. Mushy apples though they might

"I'm afraid we don't have any moss back here, friend. You might have better luck checking the outside of the building."

Mushy overripe apples Seedy?

"Give me a moment and I'll go check the stores in the basement." The bartender fulfills a couple pending drink orders, then lifts wooden panel behind the left end of the bar to reveal a staircase leading down, down which he promptly disappears. You hear the sound of rummaging for a few minutes. He pops back up at the top of the stairs for a moment, long enough to grab a wooden bowl, then heads down again. After another moment of rummaging, he emerges once again. After a moment to close the panel covering the staircase, he plops the bowl down in front of Amanita. "I didn't have any mushy apples, but I got a crate of pears with the intention of making a batch of perry, and like pears are wont to do half of them have gone brown and mushy already."

"Oh! Thank you! I hope that wasn't too much of a hassle." They grab one of the pears and eats it, a mouth on their neck beneath the bear head opening up to eat it.

"Hmm." they say, thinking. "Needs a bit of seasoning. Hold on." They remove the bear head and place it on the headless stuffed animal, and a moment later pulls out a sock puppet and puts it on one of their hands.

Manifest Eidolon, Share Senses

The moment the head is placed on the stuffed animal, it comes to life, hops down from the bar, and wanders outside.

After it leaves, the sock puppet begins to mimic its movements.

A moment later, the bear returns, paws full of moss, and then hops on top of the bar stool to put it on the bowl of pears.

Patrick just watches - interested.

Now that is something you don't see every day. And as for perry, if you do make another batch, I'd be interested in trying it. I presume you are making it with the proper perry pear?

"If I can get my hands on some. Not many people growin' 'em in the middle of the city, though, and pears don't travel well. These were just whatever pears were available at the greenmarket last week, and you can see how they turned out. Still though" Seedy says with a grin, "Cayden provides!"

Yes .... and as I found out recently ... so does Desna

A plant-like creature covered in fungus floats in, an electric guitar in hand. "It's entirely too quiet in here," they say. With a deep breath, they start screaming out a tune alongside some heavy power chords.

"We're the noise in the night, we're the spark that ignites,
Tear down the walls, we're here for the fight!
Raise your voices, let the echoes soar,
In this lodge we're gonna scream for more!"

Making a post here so it shows up in my Campaigns tab.

Another Leshy walks in and takes a seat at the bar. A bowl of fruit for me and a bowl of chopped meat for my friend, please.

This Leshy looks like a very short treant made from a red toadstool. Jumping down from his cap is a Tiny horned dragon with dark green scales.

I hear this is the place to look for adventuring work. Looks a bit sparse, though.

"Don't worry, friend" the bartender says, setting a bowl of halved plums in front of the leshy, then fishing out some chunks of meat from the stew pot which he shreds with a fork. "I hear there's a big push of assignments coming soon."

Oh I hope so says a tiny glowing light sprite who has just flown in and gently lands on the bar. She is tiny and glows with a soothing yellow light. It's also hard to tell what she's wearing.

Thimblefull of nectar please Seedy she says in a high pitched musical voice.

"Coming right up!" Seedy calls. He picks up the cutting board where he just sliced the plums for Kino, pouring the sweet juice collected in a channel around the edge into a small bowl. He adds some simple syrup, stirs, and pours it into a shot glass which he places in front of the sprite.

That's good. I'll look forward to that. I'm Kino, by the way. Kino accepts the bowls of food and puts the stew meat in front of the dragon. Have a bite to eat, Ia. It smells really good.

Ia takes a bite and chirrups her thanks and approval to Seedy before settling down for her meal.

Luciola says the sprite.

A young half elven woman enters. She holds the door open for a snowy owl that flies in and lands atop the bar. She bites her lower lip and apprehensively surveys the tavern before joining her friend at the bar. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead of her. She adroitly leaps atop the bar and addresses the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? As many of you know my friend, Silence, here has been trying to build up support for his ridiculous made-up holiday 'Superb Owl Sunday'" She makes finger quotes as she speaks.

The owl seemingly takes offence to the gesture and flaps his wings. "Screech!"

The half-elf frowns and turns to the owl. "Okay, okay. I won't use the quotes or call it ridiculous but you gotta admit you totally made this all up."

Silence once again flaps his wings.

"What? No way. It has definitely not been observed by owls since the dawn of creation. Look I promised I'd do this so just let me talk, okay?"

She returns her attention to the assembled patrons.

Anyway as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," She glares briefly at Silence, "Superb Owl Sunday is this coming Sunday and since last year went pretty well Silence wants to make the 'Superb Owl Sunday Owl Appreciation Poetry Slam' an annual event." She shakes her head and mutters. "We really need to come up with a shorter name for this."

"So anyway now is the time to compose your entries. It's Wealday today so you'll have today plus Oathday, Fireday and Starday to compose your best poems about how awesome owls are. Silence will judge. We probably should have a couple more judges this year though to make things fair. Seedy? Would you mind being a judge? If Seedy agrees then we'll need one more judge to make three. Any volunteers?"

Awesome owls? Luciola squeaks. She is a tiny glowing humanoid sprite on the bar. How about terrifying owls? I mean, here am I, a little flying sprite and this owl sneaks up behind me and tries to catch me in it's talons. Well .... I'm having none of that so I blew faerie dust in it's eyes.

But yeah, if you want a third judge. I'm game.

She glares at the owl. You'd better not be catching us faeries Silence.

She glares at the owl. You'd better not be catching us faeries Silence.

Silence enigmatically preens his feathers.

"Thanks for stepping up, Luciola. Don't worry. Silence and I grew up around sprites. He knows better than to mess with them. Anyway..." Meadow looks around the tavern.

"So...It looks like Seedy must have run off to the celler to bring up some wine or something. We might need someone else to step up as the third judge. Although it looks like we might not need a judge at all. Not too many of you all seem to want to participate this year. Alright I'll do a quick poem to get things started."

The ranger clears her throat and begins to recite an extemporaneous poem.

"Which bird is the best?
better than the rest?
I'll cheer myself hoarse,
giving owls my endorse...uh..."

Meadow blushes and hangs her head sheepishly.

"...ment." She perks up quickly. "Okay so mine wasn't any good. Whaddaya want? I made it up on the spot. Surely someone else can do better. Oh and I almost forgot." She reaches into a belt pouch and pulls out a carved wooden medallion attached to a loop of red ribbon. "After someone turned last year's prize into a bit of a fiasco" She pauses to glare at Silence "I've taken over and gotten my friend Jun-Mei to carve this medallion. It's got an owl on it and the date and everything. It's a one of a kind treasure for this year's winner. So come on everyone give me some sort of owl poem. Otherwise someone" She discretely points to Silence, "will get angry and be a complete handful for the next few weeks."

"Oh, well how can I resist?" A teal-haired female gnome casts a spell to summon a lap harp, fingering the strings as she muses a moment before introducing herself. "I'm Salaish, and in the spirit of on-the-spot-and-probably-not-that-great poems, here's my submission:" She trills the harp, then suddenly silences the strings. Her voice deepens and she speaks:

"Death on silent wings:
An owl's shadow's only seen
As its talons close."

With a sharp thrum of the harp and a half-crooked grin, she takes a dramatic bow. "Thank you folks! Thank you! I'll be here all week! Tip Seedy extra!" She throws a wink at Silence for good measure.

Oh that one gives me the heebie-jeebies. The poem I mean, not the bard. HEY! Are you taken?

"Oh, I'm never tied down!" Salaish laughs.

Luciola casts a spell and turns into a small sized person ((Humanoid Form)) before hopping off the bar.

Soooooo .... want some company?

"Ewww! Get a room you two."

Meadow looks around the common room and sighs. "Well it looks like we don't need three judges this year. Or any judges at all in fact since we only had one participant in the Second Annual Superb Owl Sunday Owl Appreciation Poetry Slam."

Silence flaps his wings and hisses.

Meadow shakes her head sadly. "Sorry buddy. I'm disappointed too but there just aren't as many people around lately."

The ranger clears her throat and announces to the room. "It is my pleasure to announce the winner of the Second Annual and probably final Superb Owl Sunday Owl Appreciation Poetry Slam is...Salaish Talenduth! Yay!" She claps excitedly and places two fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly. She reaches into her belt pouch and retrieves the gnome's prize, smiling broadly as she places the medallion around the bard's neck.

The medallion is carved oak and depicts an owl in flight with the inscription winner-Second Annual Superb Owl Sunday Owl Appreciation Poetry Slam-9 Calistril, 4725

"Aww, shucks! Thank you!" Salaish leans in to give Meadow a hug and whispers: "I'll ham it up a bit so he doesn't give you grief."

Next she hugs Silence, whispering into the side of his head where she thinks his ear would be: "You're the most majestic owl I've ever seen!" Pulling away, she bows to the crowd (well, to the few patrons in the Lodge at the moment).

"And now, to celebrate, here's a ditty I composed in honor of amazing owls." And with that, she begins to play a haunting melody.

Luciola reverts back to fey form, casts Fly and dances to the music.
performance: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (7) + 19 = 26

The crowd clears.

A forgettably short ysoki stalks into the bar uninterested in alcohol, but props his whiskers up when he catches a draft fresh-baked bread. Reaching into his pocket, he neatly places a few coppers on the table, and looks around, back and forth, back and forth, unnoticed.

How can he draw attention to himself in such a busy establishment?

While the ysoki scans the crowd, his coppers are quietly replaced by a plate of sliced bread and a small pat of butter.

"Persnickety Wickets!" the ysoki chirps "Didn't see you come. And here I go thinking you didn't see me" he smells the buttered bread as his pointed nose wriggles gaily "Busy in here, but also quiet" he begins nibbling gently with nimble fingers, partitioning the bread into equal-sized chunks which leaves each an equitable distribution of butter. Smacking unselfconsciously as he enjoys the morsels, he talks with his mouth full, skillfully, without slurring words.

"Sailing away far tonight - Niishan - never been there. Something about a fire ceremony. And ghosts! Oh dear!!" he puts his hands on his cheeks and raises his eyebrows!!!

"Well that sounds like a proper adventure!" the barkeep says as he quickly wipes down a nearby table. "You take care of your self while you're there, and may the Lucky Drunk smile upon you!"

A goblin storms into the bar, furiously dances at every person that he sees there, shrieks: "DANCING!" and then leaves as suddenly as he arrived.

"Old goblin tradition" the bartender says with a knowing nod. "Don't fret yourselves about it."

"Huh," Leo says from his table with piqued curiosity, "I didn’t know about that one. What is the purpose of that tradition?"

Usually that sort of thing in the animal kingdom is some sort of ritual as a precursor to mating. But for humanoids? Presumably it is for garnering attraction.

But I am no expert in those sort of things.

"Purpose is a...strong word," Seedy says, reluctantly.

Patrick just shrugs.