Antal will help manage/greet and if need be, he can also help look out for cheaters as well.
Fíriel helps deal.
Swiftwing and Jametor, watching from the catwalks, are the first to notice four loud-mouthed individuals complaining about the tournament and accusing the house of having cheated them. The other patrons are looking at them askance, but mostly trying to stay out of their way as the men rant.
The others become aware of them a few moments later... all carry clubs, and one is sporting a longsword strapped to his belt. His hand strays toward the hilt a few times as he complains and demands to see Saul.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, what seems to be the trouble?"
The one with the sword glares at the halfling challengingly. "You know what the trouble is, Shorty? This stinkin place stole our gold, and we won't stand for it! Will we, men?"
There is a chorus of agreement with this from the other three.
Antal approaches after a brief bit of improvement from his innate powers , the halfling approaches and clears his throat, the skull design of face paint making his toothy smile seem bigger.
"I'm sure that we can come to a beneficial situation for everyone involved. After all, the use of weaponry would leave many injured, and there's really no guarantee that any of us would come out of this unharmed. And that just wouldn't do. How about we find you a much more...productive way to deal with these frustrations, eh?"
Njord moves closer but remains silent as the confrontation occurs.
The man seems to deflate a bit as he glances between the two halflings. "I... I... well... what kind of way did you have in mind?"
"Well, why don't we try to find you someone of the more scantily clad persuasion? I have no doubt that maybe a few hours with one of them, and I believe the issues we're discussing will become much less troublesome. What do you gentlemen say to that? But while we discuss that option, how about a drink, on the house, while you explain how we can better our service?"
Randall starts to respond, but stops rather than talk over Antal. When the other halfling is done, he adds, "Sir, we want customers that are happy with our service. Happy customers are repeat customers, after all, and when they tell their friends how good the Gold Goblin is, some of those friends would come see for themselves. If my associate's suggestion doesn't appeal to you, let us buy you a drink at the bar and you can tell us what we need to do to improve our service."
"Well... uhh..." the man seems completely baffled by the two halflings. He glances at his companions. "Well... we could take a look at what you're offering, I spose..."
The other men nod, a bit too eagerly.
After the men have been led out (taken, no doubt, to the local temple of Calistria), Saul makes an appearance in the gaming room. He announces that from now on, despite this being Riddleport, the Gold Goblin will enforce a strict no-weapons policy. The patrons respond with some grumbling and a smattering of applause. Saul goes on to challenge any of his patrons who are actually spying on him for competitors to go back and inform their bosses that any further acts of hostility will be met with force.
Afterward, Saul thanks the party for handling the situation so admirably, and says he expects that there will be at least a few objections to the policy, but that it's long overdue.
Njord bids his new friends and coworkers a good night and returns home.
The following couple days he does more of the same, hustling folks into visiting the Goblin during the day and keeping the peace with a growl and cracking knuckles at night.
Jametor spends time up in the catwalks with Swiftwing watching for cheaters.
The later in the day he goes out to try to convince some folks that a trip to the Gold Goblin is a good idea.
In the morning prior to going up to the catwalk, Jametor casts read magic and tries to add a spell to his spellbook. He works on the identify spell.
Day One
Day Two
Day One
Day Two
Randall heads out into the street the next day, spreading word of mouth about the reopening of the Gold Goblin and the new staff.
The day after, he stays in, greeting customers for a couple of hours before wandering among the tables for a couple of hours, looking for anyone who's not playing by the rules.
During the course of the night's activities, Njord finds himself to Jametor.
"That bird of yours, he's one of those magic-types right?"
"Swiftwing is a magical beast and also a female. Why do you ask?"
"Har! Sorry about that Feathers", the big ulfen says with a salute in the familiars direction.
"Oh nothin' serious, I just got these rare seeds I'm gunna grind into pigment. I gotta a hunch I can do something grand with it but I need an image. Do you think she'd mind doin' some modeling for me?"
"You know she speaks Common right? She does a lot of things I ask, but to be honest she's got her own mind too. Ask her, she like doing stuff for folks."
Njord looks towards Swiftwing, feeling foolish.
"What do you say Miss? Do you mind posing a bit for me?"
Swiftwing flaps her wings, looks at Njord and then bobs her head.
She then starts posing, holding her head up, spreading her wings.
"Har! Not now sweetheart, tomorrow. We gotta job to do tonight!"
Njord manages to start a fight, but due to the ban on customer weapons together with the Ulfen's meaty fists, it quickly ends with the offender being thrown out. Jametor and Swiftwing make a very effective team; together, they spot quite a few cheaters, and Randall the fleet-footed is kept busy running up and down the stairs to inform Njord of the ones requiring 'bouncing'. Antal manages to convince quite a few people to stop by and helps settle the new staff into their roles, until one of the new cooks announces that she can't stand being ordered about by a midget, and quits.
The next few days pass relatively uneventfully, though one strange occurrence that still has people talking days later. At the Gold Goblin, one of the cooks sought out Antal to complain that the skillets were all trying to stick together, just as Randall and Fíriel noticed that the daggers they carried were straining their straps trying to get to each other.
On the street, blacksmiths struck their anvils and had trouble lifting the hammer again; masons found it difficult to separate chisel from mallet; wherever there were tools, it seemed, they almost gravitated to one another. By the time Antal arrived at the kitchen, everything was back to normal, with people all over the city left wondering if they'd imagined it.
Near the end of the week, Saul calls the party together and praises the excellent job everyone has been doing. He frowns distractedly and says that he's been informed that his old enemy and biggest competitor, the crime boss Clegg Zincher, is planning a visit to the Goblin tonight. "He's not a gambler. I can only think he intends to make trouble... but you mustn't try to get rid of him. He's too powerful. Just... keep your eyes on him, please, and try to figure out what he's doing here?"
Sure enough, later on that evening, a bulky man with short hair and an ugly twist to his mouth enters the hall. As he seats himself at a Golem table, the croupier looks up and pales, and most of the other patrons nervously wander off to other tables.
Njord studies the man and nods, "We'll keep an eye on him."
Closing on the potential troublemaker, the big ulfen clears his throat to make his presence known but otherwise remains silent.
The small man also keeps eyes on the crime boss, maintaining his distance but also staying fully aware of the area.
Randall climbs up on a chair beside the topic of interest.
"Good evening, sir. I hope you find the Gold Goblin to your liking. We are striving to re-invent her into a better place to while away the hours than ever before. Is there anything we can get you?"
Jametor and Swiftwing keep an eye out for trouble in the catwalks
Magic Missle:
Hold Portal:
=Failure 1 week cooldown
True Strike:
Clegg raises one eyebrow at the Ulfen's approach, but after a glance in Njord's direction, he returns to his game. When Randall addresses him, he tilts his head, a bit of surprise evident on his face. "I spose you think I'm here to cause trouble, hmm? Well, Saul's been lying to you if you think that. I'm just here to check out Saul's newest project, and meet his newest pals." He indicates Randall and Njord with his chin. "That's you, boyos."
Not entirely surprised at Clegg's cool demeanor, Njord remains silent and continues to watch him.
Randall grins. "It's always good to talk to an intelligent man. Me, I'm everyone's pal until they prove otherwise. I hope your understand Saul's concern - the unfortunate situation at the tournament has dulled his optimism at a successful reopening of this fine establishment. It appears that someone seems to have designs against such a success."
Shrugging, the little fella says, "Saul just didn't expect a man of your standing to come by just to visit. His paranoia is not without cause, so we indulge it."
Climbing back down, the halfling says, "If I may start again, my name is Randall and I'm pleased to meet you. My offer stands. If there is anything we can provide while you are here, please let us know. Enjoy your game."
Clegg studies the halfling, reaching up to scratch his cheek with a burly, rough hand. Finally he nods curtly. "Maybe I will, and maybe I won't, but I'm more likely to if I'm left in peace."
Randall nods in acquiescence and with an 'after you' motion of his hands, moves on to other tasks. He's aware of the eyes of his friends on the man, so having made himself obvious, he carefully does not watch him.
The door attendants both shake their heads at Njord's question, and when Randall leaves, Clegg gets back to his game, seemingly oblivious to the eyes of the halfling's friends. Clegg finishes the current round of Golem and plays a few more, then makes his way quietly to the exit, stopping to have a word with the door attendant on his way out.
An hour or so later, a piercing scream is heard throughout the establishment. The patrons look around wildly, expecting that this is another attack and wanting to get out as quickly as possible. The dealers have their hands full trying to prevent an all-out riot, as players all try to cash out at once.
A maid appears from behind the bar, breathing hard with tears streaming down her red face. She glances around, trying to find the closest staffperson. Spotting Njord, she hurries over and tugs at his elbow. "Snake!!" she screams, terrified. "Oh, it's horrible. You must come at once! You must... it's so horrible... snake... in the scullery..." Having said this, she bursts into tears once again.
"Snake? Where? Show me", Njord grunts as he shoves his way through the crowd.
Antal grimaces at the mention of the snake, but hurries along with Njord. "We need to get this nasty thing killed quickly." He shivers, thinking aloud. "I hate snakes. Have I ever mentioned I hate snakes?"