"Now, I wouldn't say we all wear our hearts on our sleeves. Right, Sand?"
Ulrich took a sip of his mead.
"If you are traveling these lands, Rexah, you will need assistance. I could always accompany you, for a fee."
"I only bear my heart to the fairer sex" sand then winks at the nearest human female .
"But Rexah if you are traveling I may as well travel with you. I have no real direction, other then the call of the road." He then turns to the Scribbles "Bard have you heard of the island called Tawdry? It is quite far from here."
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Sand manages to catch the eye of a farmer's daughter a table over, and the wink has its intended affect.
Unfortunately for Sand, she isn't the easiest on the eyes. She has a big, bulbous nose and thick eyebrows. She smiles widely, revealing some gaps in her teeth.
Ulrich rolled his eyes as Sand winked at the woman.
I can’t stand guys like this
”She can choose who she travels with, but I asked first.”
Ulrich pointed that himself with his thumb with an irritated smirk.
He needed another payday, and he didn’t exactly want to share. He had a grandmother to think about.
Scribbles becomes lost in thought at the question, spiraling out what little beard he has.
I wonder if this Sand came from Tawdry and that's why he asked - Could he be a failed pilgrim? Or perhaps he is a native?
Seeing what looks like a break in conversation and hoping he isn't intruding, a human man, the same man you have all seen earlier taking requests and bringing drinks to other tables, approaches your table with more mugs of mead and another tankard of ale. "Would any of you care for another?" he asks politely, his voice smooth and his accent more refined than most of the locals you've heard here.
”I could use a warm meal, and another drink.”
Ulrich chugged the last of his mead and handed the emty pint to the man.
Glancing from Ulrich to Sand and back after their twin offers of assistance that she did not ask for, she wonders, Why would these two have any reason to travel with me? I did not ask for help, did I? And how would someone wear their heart on a sleeve?
Seeing that Sand has once again engaged her potential source of information in a pointless dialogue about islands, Rexah leans back in her chair and attempts to hide her confusion of the human's volunteering in her ale.
In an attempt to continue her avoidance maneuver she orders another ale from the human server.
These are gruff folk! But of course, it seems to be that the taller they are the more rough they come.
Where is the sweet conversation of that bard, Hayley?
At first, Scribbles looks at Sand, to answer his question. "I do not know the current news of Tawdry; the brush of my knowledge strokes quite Broadly."
Then, looking from Sand to Ulrich to Rexah, he says "Wanderer, Warrior, and Visitor. I would like to talk next to this fine villager."Hopping down from his chair, he continues, now to the newcomer."I need no more drink and my bowl is now empty. I'll carry this one, your arms look full with plenty.
As would be expected of a half-orc, Rexah is unfazed by her alcohol intake so far.
The man looks down at the gnome with an amused expression. "This is my job, good fellow. I can handle this much." He makes no move to offer his serving tray to Scribbles and turns to Rexah and Ulrich. "That will be a silver for the mead and 5 copper for the ale."
Rexah laughs, produces 5 copper and says mostly to herself, "Not so much unlike the south in some regards."
With ale in hand, she turns her attention to Ulrich.
"I did not ask you to travel with me, but while the gnome is distracted you will do..."
Rexah unties a collection of feathers, teeth, small chains, and other charms from the end of her quarterstaff. Laying it on the table she points to a talon too big for a common bird of prey, but smaller than that of some large reptile and asks, Do you know what creature I had to slay for this prize?"
For properly identifying the talon, it would be K(Nature) DC 15.
”That’s from a Strix. Must have been annoying to kill, but it’s rare to see such a thing. Where did you find this creature?”
Ulrich pulled a silver out and handed it to Silas.
”It looks like an owl talon, but that belongs to a larger owl than I have ever seen.”
Frowning, Rexah explains, "This is from a race of creatures known as Strix. They are fearsome and dangerous, and some claim their is intelligence among them. For my people they are more than a nuisance, they are a constant obstacle to our unification and borders."
Holding the talon in her hand now Rexah says, "I killed this particular Strix in an attack on one of their ritual sites. He was not a challenge, merely, as I said before, an obstacle."
Ulrich listened intently to Rexah’s story.
”Why are you telling me this?”
"You did not know what it was, now you do. But the fact that you did not know what this is means that these lands have never had to deal with these monsters."
Rexah begins to retie the bundle to the end of her quarterstaff.
"That, or Strix do not pose a significant enough threat to your people to be well known. In either circumstance I want to find out why."
Receiving no indication from Sand as to whether he would like to order anything else, the man leaves to go grab some steaming stew and a hunk of bread, which he places in front of Ulrich. "That is 2 silver for the meal, sir." Waiting to accept the coin, he turns to everyone else, particularly Sand, and says to all, "I apologize, I did not introduce myself earlier, my name is Silas. Feel free to stop me or Hayley, the half elf who was singing earlier, if you need anything. You have all also met Argus, our bartender. Don't let his gruff demeanor bother you; he is quite actually kind-hearted."
"Interesting. So how do you plan on doing that?" sand said to Rexah. Then leaned over towards Silas "One mead please." and passes him a silver.
Silas nods, fetches a mead, and takes the coin . "Thank you, sir. Enjoy," he says before moving on to the next table.
Ulrich took out two more silver coins and gave it to Silas and got to enjoying his meal and continued speaking to Rexah.
”I’m actually looking for some work. I do most anything that pays, so I travel around often.”
He took a bite of his bread.
”If you want to find out about this land, I suggest caution. The roads can be dangerous to wander about by yourself, which is why I suggested hiring me as a sort of body guard.”
Scribbles is just looking from one person to another as they talk, a smile on his face growing.
A half-orc foreigner, huh? If that Ulrich somehow talks Rexah into letting him follow along in her quest to find the answer for peace in her land... There might be a story there! Quite a moral, too - bringing peace to those who don't know it. I will stay my tongue for now, and gauge how eager this visitor is to gathering followers.
To Sand, Rexah states, "I am travelling towards what I know only from stories, a vast plain with a dense forest at its western border. I believe it is this natural barrier which prevents your peoples from having to deal with the problems that plague my people. If there is no more to it than that, I have my answer. If not, then my journey truly begins."
Turning to Ulrich, once again confused by his unbidden mention of employment, Rexah says, "You see, I am not in need of that sort of help. As I journey north and east, I seek information more than anything else. If it comes down to it, I can repay you for what you know, but I do not have the wealth to hire anything more than a pack animal, if my travels even necessitate that."
"However, if there are in fact dangers on the roads, beyond the simple banditry that this land seems rife with, that is information I can use."
Ulrich sighed and finished his meal.
"That's a pity, I could have always accepted payment later. Don't die out there, cutie."
He Looked around for the half-elf woman as he got up from his seat, mead in hand.
Ulrich spots her at the bar and walks up to greet her.
"You have quite the charismatic air about you."
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The smile on Scribbles face fades slightly as Rexah says this. Resigned to his corner of the table, he thinks of what to do next while Ulrich walks away. What smile he had left vanishes when he sees Ulrich flirting with Hayley.
The half-elf turns to Ulrich and smiles warmly. "I would expect, so, aye. Someone has ta bring in thah customers, an' it sure won' be this lout!" she laughs, pointing her near empty cup toward Argus and winking.
Argus grunts, tilting his head back ever so slightly, and turns away to clean some tankards.
"Do ya need anything? 'Ere ta request some music? Or mayhaps a drink, seeing as tha' one seems ta have only a touch."
Ulrich smiled back at her and inroduced himself.
"I'm Ulrich Moderatus. I'm actually looking for some work. Would you happen to know about any jobs I could take on, Miss...?"
The brawler pauses, hoping to get her name as well as find information regarding work.
"Oh, a course, beggin' your pardon, sir, I am called Hayley. Pleased ta meet ya," she says as she dips her head in a seated curtsey. "If ya came ta thah Crossing for work, I expect ya ta be disappointed. Most folk 'ere are farmers, simple. Ya look ta be thah type who wants more excitin' ways ta earn coin." She pauses thoughtfully before adding, "Ya could try thah mayor--" She stops mid sentence when Argus whips his head back in your direction. "Oh, come off it, Argus. He's lookin' for work. No harm in sending him ta ask."
"Best ta no' speak of such folk..." the man murmurs, the most words you have heard him say so far.
"It's not like he's 'ere. Ee can' hear ya."
"Come now, what would be so wrong in inquiring him about work? I do need the coin, after all."
Ulrich asked curiously, being wary of their reactions, but is interrupted by the man bursting into the bar.
As soon as Ulrich utters those words, a tall man with thinning gray hair bursts through the doors as if he owned the place, loudly beginning an angry rant, or perhaps continuing one to himself, as he storms up to the bar. ”That blasted mayor. I swear to all the gods he’s abusing his position to screw me like some whorish wench.” The barkeep pours him a strong drink unbidden. ”Thank you. Who does he think he is?! The King appoints him to oversee this small scrap of land, and that makes him better than me? He may have the King’s ear, but I have just as much influence and more gold. This town was practically built by my grandfather! And you know what this bastard mayor does, Argus?”
Argus grunts, ”Taxes?”
...as Hayley quietly finishes her drink and slips back into the controlled chaos of the tavern's patrons.
The man slaps the bar with a loud crack! ”Gods damn him, taxes! How many times has he raised the taxes in the past year?” Argus knows not to answer in the small break in the man’s tirade as he tossed back his glass. Argus immediately refills it. ”Eight! Nine, now. Nine times, and it’s still spring! Does that sounds like an abuse of power to you?” he asks, turning to ask Ulrich. Before Ulrich has a chance to answer, he continues, ”This is why we shouldn’t have a mayor here. It isn’t necessary, we’re not a big city. Things basically run themselves. And I thought the king abolished slavery!” The second shot disappears as quickly as the first and is refilled just as swiftly. ”I’m all for paying taxes for using the King’s land, benefitting from His protection and wisdom, but this is extortion! I know the king doesn’t see half the coin that damnable mayor takes from my pocket. If only I had some way of proving it…” He throws back the third shot, slamming the glass down onto the bar once more, and waves his hand over the top shaking his head when Argus goes to fill it again.
Scribbles gives a small sigh of relief as Hayley leaves the bar.
As the man is shouting at the bar Rexah laughs to herself, Ha, if taxes have this man this hysteric, he better hope he never has to deal with a traitorous orc tribe or a strix raid.
At the end, or perhaps just a pause, of the newcomer's rant, Scribbles and Sand notice a cloaked figure sneaking out the door. The figure turns and sees them watching him. He turns back to the door and bolts. Ulrich and Rexah hear the heavier footsteps as the figure quickens out the door.
Ulrich looked to the sound of the footsteps.
That sounds like someone running. Why would someone need to run?
He got up from his seat, finishing up his mead and tried to push past everyone to get outside to see what was happening.
He tried to use his tall frame to intimidate the other patrons to move out of his way.
"Move, I need to get outside."