Kingmaker: Conquest of the Stolen Lands (Inactive)

Game Master Aqua-Thor

The interior of the Randy Sasquatch is clean.

At least it's clean.

Chairs made by at least a dozen different craftsmen surround tables made from discarded barrels and scraps of wood. A comfortable spring breeze blows through gaps in the walls and the evening sunset provides a lovely counterpoint with the fire roaring in the hearth. A bubbling stew fills the space with a glorious scent and is being tended over the fire by a young woman in a short dress. The only other people obvious are gathered in a clump at the 'table' farthest from the door.

One sits, obviously over-dressed for the setting, brown hair and bushy beard surrounding a deeply tanned face. No one else could be Lord Alystair. Two men in breastplates stand behind him. At a second table, close, is another Taldan. He leans against a huge hammer and seems distracted, almost absent.

As Attimar approaches the stable hand he grins mischievously at the man. Fine night for some travel, eh? Look, here's 5 gold, I've had Veronica here for a long time and I want to make sure she is well taken care of. As I understand it the Ranady Sasquatch here will likely be a busy place tonight, so assuming nothing happens to her and that I found her to well kept when the business concludes inside I'd be willing to drop that another 5 gold for your time and effort. Thank you!

With that Atamar deposits Veronica to the stable hand and heads into the Randy Sasquatch. After arriving inside he looks around taking in the scene. Not a bad place, defintely less stuffy that a lot of the city, less crowded too.

Heading over, cautiously, to the men at the table, Atamar smiles benignly.
You sir wouldn't happen to be Lord Alystair would you?

Heading over, cautiously, to the men at the table, Atamar smiles benignly.
You sir wouldn't happen to be Lord Alystair would you?

The stable hand is a post near the entrance. Luckily the wall, as it is, has enough gaps for you to see your steed from almost anywhere in the taproom.

Lord Alystair, looks up and grins. "First man! Good. Let's see your letter then."

A Drow walks in, her face covered by a feint shadow, she bares a crest of House Orlovsky. She was glad she put it on, the looks she got to this point was rather... fun to see. She goes to sit down as she scans the room, before she once again was on her feet and had the letter in her hand

"Reporting to this letter my lord" as she handed it to the lord

Seeing the Drow walk by and hand a letter off, Atamar immediately begins rifling through his personage looking for the letter. After a few moments he looks up a little embarrassed.

I do believe I might have left the letter on my horse. One moment please. An unhappy look marking his face he quickly trots back outside to his horse and is gone a minute or so before returning with a slightly wrinkled envelope in his hand.

Here it is! It appears to have survived the journey in one piece.

Atamar hands the letter over to the lord. The letter is slightly crumbled and looks to have slight water damage on the edges.

Standing their awkwardly he eyes the Drow curiously and then smiles.

Can't say I've seen too many Drow around, my name is Atamar Gorrin, a pleasure to meet you. I would assume you are here as well for the expedition?

She turns to him, first with a scowl, then a grin on her face after she waits for his reaction
"Yes, you are correct, I think we received the same letter. My name is Zartana of the House Orlovsky. A pleasure to meet you" she gives him her hand to shake

"Reporting to this letter my lord" as she handed it to the lord

"Orlovsky, of course." If he is taken aback, Lord Alystair doesn't show it. The two men on either side both hold tight to their weapon hilts, their disdain and fear obvious and unhidden. "I suppose we could use an inside man . . er, woman." He begins to read.

I need your letter of introduction, plus if you could show me the math in your crunch, that would save me time.

Sorry, not sure what you mean the math in my crunch? and what letter do i need to show, i was under the impression the letter is the one in the players guide?

Letter is something specific GM asked for, it's just a letter written from the point of a Noble recommending you for the job. Math in crunch I think just means, where did all the bonuses come from.
Like for a skill, let's say Acrobatics (it's trained). Would be like 1 (Rank)+3(Class Skill)+3(Dex Modifier)-1(ACP)= +6 aka: Show your work ^_^

Atamar Studies the Drow Lady for a second, a little taken back her grimace. But then continues smiling.

I've not many from the House of Orlovsky, the few have been less than pleasant occasions. But I'm sure if we end up on the expedition that everything will be fine.

Turning back to Lord Alystair
Well it seems we have some time to kill, if you have no immediate questions for me I would like to grab a drink while we wait.

Turning back to Zartana

I might very well be interested in getting to learn more about you Zartana of House Orlovsky. If you care to join me?

Ah, okay, will try to add it to my crunch, the letter i will have to do later in the morning...

She nods
"I will join you while we wait" she follows him to a seat and sits down

Sorry, not sure what you mean the math in my crunch? and what letter do i need to show, i was under the impression the letter is the one in the players guide?

From the first post in recruitment

"I need a letter of introduction from a noble, high or low, of Brevoy somewhere, OR a damn good reason why not and a damn good reason Lord Alystair would consider you for the position. Write it as the noble; your character can be aware or unaware of the contents as you choose."

I would go back and read my posts there again and more carefully.

@Atamar

Lord Alystair smiles and says, "It is likely to a long night. Gregory speaks highly of you." he hold the letter, seal now broken, up. "By all means, sit and enjoy. The drinks here aren't watered and the food is worth braving the decor, even if there is no variety. Stella!" He turns to the woman in the short dress with the ease of a regular customer. "Get . . ." He looks down at the letter again, "Atamar a bowl." he then pops the seal on the letter handed him by the drow and begins to read.

Finding himself a seat near the bar he addresses Stella "Stella is it? I imagine this place will be mighty busy before the night's over. If you please, I would like a mildly strong ale and whatever the cook would recommend. If it pleases her, I would order the same for my friend here."

Looking Zartana over towards thoughtfully, Atamar levels a stern but friendly gaze into her. "So what brings your interest into the expedition, Zartana?"

"There will be less of a stigma against me and what I look like, there I hope to prove that I am not like my kin."

Stella looks Atamar over with a smirk. "The cook recommends this," she ladels a large portion of . . . . well it smells good, into two bowls, then raises her voice to an ear-splitting screech, "Katya! Two dirty!" before turning back to the bubbling cauldron.

A halfling girl, barely past youth, scrambles out with two stained wooden mugs, skillfully avoiding a spill as she sets them down without stopping and disappearing back down a set of stairs near the hearth.

Moving through the door with what seems must be practiced silence, a human man moves across the floor to Lord Alystair. His cowl still up and a mask obscuring his face, he pulls a letter from a pouch on his belt. Turning it over once or twice in his hands, he flicks it out between his two fingers and extends it to the Swordlord. "I was told to speak with you regarding an expedition." The voice is low, but raspy, punctuated by infrequent coughs. "Lord Garess did not mention what the letter contains, only that I should pass it on to you upon my arrival."

Looking to the others who've already arrived, he turns back to the Swordlord. "They have been recommended as well?"

"Yes I can understand that, I originally herald from Mendev, they are far from nice to those of my kind, my parents brought me into the Brevoy area when I but a wee little green thing." he pinches two fingers together for emphasis. "So I can respect that, wanting to prove one's worth is more than their race.

I myself am looking forward to the open land, I've traveled far and wide throughout Brevoy, especially the Rostland area and I hope to find new land to be explored and creatures not found here, imagine the thrill of it!"

@Jonathon

Lord Alystair takes your letter and slides it under the one he was reading as you entered. "Good." He nods toward the half-orc and drow, "Some more than others. Sit, wait. We, or at least I, have a long night ahead. The food is good. Take advantage of it."

She chuckles
"Wide-eyed wanderer I take it? I myself enjoy the... solitude. The thrill might just make people fear me more. Though I have no reservations on how I may be able to use that fear. It is needed sometimes. So, what skills do you bring to this land besides being an explorer?

Atamar looks down at the table for a second considering This table is made from much coarser wood than the chairs. and looks back up.

Well, you're in for a fairly long list if you must know. Let's see. He holds his hand up ticking off one one finger. I'm a pretty good scout, I have good knowledge of hunting, tracking, and wilderness navigation. Not to mention, despite my larger size, I'm mighty good at remaining undetected when I need to be. He ticks off a second finger. I'm also fairly knowledgeable about various beasties, I think it's interesting, all the various creatures that exist. It's doesn't hurt that knowing how to best plant my sword into one makes life a lot easier. Then be brings up a third finger. I'm not too shabby in a fight either, sure I'm not as strong as some of those warriors of legend are, but I much prefer attacking where it counts than swinging blindly like some big old Ogre. He then raises a fourth finger. And while I'm no Cleric, I'm a decent hand at Divine Magic. Finally his flicks his thumb up. Lastly I might indeed be wide eyed, I'm pretty perceptive about the world around me He points to the back of the room, if I'm not mistaken that girl, Katya, looks like she recently burned her hand mildly. Probably running around like she just was. I also have a pretty good sense about people.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Atamar raises his hand and beckons the new fella (Jonathan) over. Minds well come grab a seat friend, before long this place might get pretty packed depending on the turnout, good seats might be hard to come by.

Turning back to Zartana Now that I've given you my life story, what about yourself?

Atamar takes a sip out of the mug. Not bad.

He was not aware of it, but High General Dujek had just done as she planned.
The years she spent with the army, travelling from one place to another.

It was fun. she thinks Whenever I got within twenty from Alam, he would always slips his daggers in his hands. The so called assassin afraid of a little girl. she chuckles at the memory The squad mage, Ben. He was terrified, was he not?
Still, she tried to keep a low profile; those were moments that she could no longer indulge, Sorry needed the soldiers to fear and hate her; else, the so careful suggestion to send the ‘recruit’ to the Stolen Lands would not even be considered.

That task was the easy one, now the real challenge begins. Thinks the young woman cheerfully.
She was still dressed with the military clothes. Her satchel was no bigger than a bedroll, and the raincape she wore was more like a cloak—not standard issue—reaching down to her ankles. She'd raised the hood. Despite the dawn's burgeoning light her face remained in shadow.

She had opted to walk instead of mounting a horse. Travelling with merchants, Sorry remained somewhat a mystery and distant. Never joining at the meals, always walking alone. Her destination, Randy Sasquatch, to meet the lord and deliver her invitation letter.

"I suppose." Jonathan moves to the seat and sits down, pulling his hood back from his face. His short black hair is just beginning to gray at the temples, and the wrinkles about his eyes have just begun to show. Below that, the man is still an enigma, seemingly refusing to remove the gray silk mask obscuring the lower half of his face. "My thanks for the invitation." He waves a hand towards Katya, before calling out an order. "I'll have the same, if you could spare the time." he calls, pointing his finger in the direction of the other two at the table.

"You have come for this job? What do you know of it?" Jonathan takes the dagger from his belt nonchalantly, spinning it between his fingers. "I was not informed there would be as many others as you seem to believe. How many are there to our number?"

Cassandra stands outside the tavern for a moment to gather her courage. This was it. This was her father's dream, her grandfather's dream, and her dream. She needed to make a good impression here or their dream was going to be much more difficult. She takes a deep breath and enters. Immediately her pulse quickens. There were a lot of people here. A lot of people that weren't friends and family. People that didn't know her secret. People that would judge her a monster before even getting to know her.

Rule number 1: You aren't a monster. That was the first rule Cornelius taught her and it gave her courage. She wasn't a monster and she would prove that to all of them. After that realization she stands a little taller as she approaches the table. The hood, however, remains up.

Cassandra finds Lord Alystair and begins moving towards his table, being careful to avoid bumping into people. She takes a thick envelope from her pack and turns it over to the noble.

She can see the noble's eyebrow raising at the brevity of the letter and she blushes. She knew its contents and it took her a lot of convincing just to get that. "I know its short but that is all I could get from him. I am excellent in woodcraft and archery. I have helped other hunters protect his workers and his business from both the denizens of the forest and the bandits that have recently moved into Gronzi Forest. I think such skills would be invaluable for this venture into the Stolen Lands"

She delivers her little speech with practiced efficiency. Then she stands there hands together in front of her and waiting. For what she wasn't sure. She hadn't thought that far ahead unfortunately.

I read that the House Medvyed did not get along well with the other houses which is why the letter is short.

"Well. Let's see..." she brings up a hand, doing what the half orc did. In a way. She raises her first finger
"I am trained in the use of alchemy. Not the potant stuff, very basic things."
She raises her next finger
"I can be rather scary when I need to be. Dont ask me how or why..."
And the next
"Being undetected has served me well, as you can imagine"
Another finger pops up
"My observation skills have helped me out a lot, in the wild and in general"
She thinks for a while she brings up her other hand as she adds two more fingers
"I have some very basic arcane powers I can utilise. Which combined with my skills with a bow has been very handy so far"
She grins and sits back in her chair
"There you have it. If anything else comes up, I will inform you" she grins at him again

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Hatham approaches the tavern covered in nearly as much mud as Red, the Reddish-brown and White paint [horse] carrying the majority of his possessions in this world. "There'd better be a bath in walking distance or someone's gonna get a lot lighter in the neck." he grumbled, paying the stable boy to make sure Red got a decent stall near the back exit "just in case."

Taking a few moments to change in the very same stall, Hatham emerged in an eclectic blend of furs, boots, belts, and travelling clothes that just seemed to work before stepping foot into the taproom. A quick scan of the scene revealed a popular noble among a motley crew of adventurer-looking types, and Hatham's likely quarry.

Hatham glanced to the Lord as he entreated with the curious young lady, taking a moment of eye contact to indicate the letter he'd placed on the table before Alystair before shuffling to the bar to procure a brandy and a warm meal before returning to wait his turn and see the Lord's request.

Following in behind the man wearing furs into the , Norvallen is trying to ignore the smell and miss the mud. Hopefully other adventurer types remember to bathe more often, if at all. Looking around the room seems to confirm that hope, so far.

Sama, a tiny yellow and green swoop lizard, glides from Norvallen's shoulder over towards a nearby table and lands. It stares at an empty spot for a moment, before a crude small and thin wooden sign appears with a word misspelled on it saying 'Familar' in common. Hopefully all the practice in making that sign with those specific lines will prevent him from getting chased out again, like his master hopes.

Norvallen calmly waits for the those in front of him to meet with the Lord before presenting his letter of recommendation to Lord Boehnre.

"Greetings Lord Boehnre, my letter of recommendation from Lord Ambrelic Donovan."

"I do have a bottle of Zinfandel from my hometown on me for you, Lord Boehnre, as a gift recommended by Lord Donovan." There is a small tremor of nervousness in Norvallen's voice, unused to being near nobility, much less trying to obtain a job from them.

Anghus made his approach by way of (hairy)foot. He had secured passage with a group of House Lebeda merchants north across Lake Reykal and into town. He found himself at the doors of "The Randy Sasquatch". When his guide had told him to find Lord Alystair there it had warranted a mischievous snicker from the little halfling and that same snicker erupted now that he found himself at the steps of the place. " Randy Sasquatch...hah!" He said to himself with a laugh before dusting off his black armor and stepping through the doors, largely unnoticed as usual.

The place looked like a million other dives that popped up along the seedy shores of Lake Reykal and other areas where ne'er do wells dwell. What stood out was the obviously overdressed Human with two armored guards and what seemed to be the real muscle setting close by with a hammer larger than Anghus. The overdressed one must be Alystair, the halfling devised.

Pulling from his pack a parchment scroll, sealed with the Signet of House Lebeda, Anghus approached the Lord. The halfling wore stark black spiked armor and had a full beard and hair of the same color. He wore jewels in his ears and rings on his fingers and a small-sized rapier hung at his hip. Perhaps it was Anghus who was over-dressed!
" Lord Alystair I Presume. Anghus, at your service. " The halfling addressed the human and gave a slight bow, there was a noticeable level of snarkiness in his introduction. Clearly the little one was not used to interacting with nobility. He offered the scroll to the Lord and bowed again, making his way towards the other gathering hopefuls while he waited.

~Letter of Recommendation~

---

Hoisting himself up into a seat, he smiles at the barmaid "Can a thirsty halfling get an Ale, Milady?"

@Cassandra

The lord takes your letter without speaking, reads quickly, then looks up with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not exactly filled with confidence at this glowing recommendation. Still, equal representation . . . Have a seat and eat, decisions for my retinue will be finalized before first light." He gestures for the next applicant.

@Hatham

You peer around the room and realize there is no bar, just the collection of mismatched furniture. A tiny slip of a halfling is delivering drinks, the comely woman showing an inappropriate amount of leg ladels a thick stew of some sort into bowls, but seems to expect patrons to get it themselves. A question for brandy confuses the girl, and the woman bursts into laughter.

"Does this look like a place that serves brandy? Ale, dirty or sweet. Take your pick.

@Norvallen

Lord Alystair takes the gift with a wry smile. "Ambrelic must really want you with us."
He passes the bottle back to the man with the hammer, who accepts after a brief start. "You like this sort of thing more than I do." He turns back to you, "Make yourself comfortable son, we'll be with you in good time."

@Angus

"Ask your fellow slip, dirty or sweet. I've got the grub." The woman continues to stir the pot.

Giving Lord Alystair a small bow, Norvallen turns away and lets out a small sigh of relief under his breath.

Turning to the stew pot, he approaches the pot of ... something. Being a cook, he almost starts to try to figure out what is in it before a shudder rolls over his form and literally through his hair.

"Two bowls," Norvallen states nodding a head towards the tiny lizard and bird hybrid perched on a table next to the odd sign, "And a sweet ale as well, if you would so please Madam."

Its been a long ride here, and Norvallen is would rather risk what smells good in the pot then eat another trail ration. Push comes to shove, he can always get his familiar to reflavor the dish for him. It probably needs more pepper anyways.

Looking over the room thus far, Norvallen can't help but double take at another person with long white hair. No wonder people always says his hair reminds them of a Drow.

Zartana witnesses the white hair. And the fact the man was staring at her. She grins. She brushes some of her hair behind her pointed ear. Then gives him a sly wink

-Posted with Wayfinder

Barely even pondering it for a moment, Norvallen grabs both bowls of stew with his hands and oddly his animates hair grabs the stein of ale and proceeds to head over towards the Drow.

Sure they have a horrible reputation, rightfully so, but what are the chances this will be one of those that follow those nightmarish scenarios? ... Alright, probably 100% but its his best chance of meeting one without being murdered.

Setting down the servings, and waving his familiar over, he turns to greet the Drow.

"Well met, I am Norvallen, human who is often said to look too much like a Drow at a glance and I'll freely apologize in advance for any fear or nervousness. I grew up as a child with tales of Drow hiding in closets and under beds waiting to snatch naughty children. And you?" In his voice, you can hear the grin on his face as well as an undertone of caution.

@Jonathan Haykes
I doubt I know much more than yourself to be honest, bandits are causing trouble in the Stolen Lands, they want a group to go down and help remove the problem. Atamar shrugs. That's really all I've heard, I'm not particularly fond of bandits, or any who would prey on the weak for their own gain, and the chance to explore the region wasn't something I could pass up.

As to the numbers, well I admit I'm mostly just guessing. But I can't see how people would want to pass an opportunity like this up. It seems I may not be wrong though gesturing to the growing number of people arriving Looks like competition is going to be pretty tough and I doubt they will want a whole troupe of us going down there, that would just be asking to get murdered in our sleep.

Turning back to Zartana to Listen
An arcane caster huh? I've not met too many, seen a few in the city running back and forth between the wizard's guilds, mostly men and women who looked like they are as close to unlocking some ancient secret as they are to tripping over their own shoes.

Atamar let's out a throaty laugh and turns his attention to the new comer before taking a sip out of his bowl.

She chuckles
"Lets just say my arcane powers are more inate than those who look to find it in books"

She gives a sly grin at the man with the white hair
"Im not sure. I have not tried hiding under beds yet... not a lot of room to maneuver. Let alone trying to snatch a child... do you have any idea how much a child can struggle? No thanks. Tried that once. Never again" she waits to see his reaction, before continuing
"My niece almost knocked my teeth out, not to mention screaming my ears off... i had to promise never to try that trick again"

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Ah, so there was some truth to those stories after all. Just one needs to aim for the teeth and scream really loudly to prevent it, rather then keep quiet and in bed. I'll have to remember that."

Taking a sip from the bowl of stew, Norvallen makes a face before turning to his familiar. Holding up two fingers, he states "Peppercorn and onion. Please."

The oversized beak with teeth turns towards the other bowl of soup, staring at it a moment when it changes color slightly. Then it turns back to its own soup and starting eat peckishly.

Norvallen tries his own soup, and seems to be satisfied with it. "As good as it smelled, it needed a bit more flavor," he states to no one in particular."

@Atamar Gorrin & Zartana
"Anyways, what brought up the comment about arcane? And by the way, there is one ancient secret neophyte wizards in training are supposed to learn in their initial training."

Norvallen pauses for a moment, before stating, "Shoelaces. A good mage figures out to get a good pair of boots and laces so they stop tripping all the damn time." He emphasizes this with a small stomp of his boot.

@Norvallen

"We were just discussing what sort of skills we each have. I don't have anything against arcane magic users mind you" Atamar rubs the back of his head a if a little embarrassed. "I just find think it's funny when you see most Wizards, you here about the many profound tasks they have accomplished throughout the ages but when you see one, most of the time you want to direct then to the nearest homily Inn owner you know to make sure they are getting fed enough."

The Half-Orc reaches his hand out.
"I'm Atamar by the way. I'm most curious, what exactly is that? I don't believe I've seen one before."
Atamar gestures towards the familiar with a quizzical look.

She puts on a very serious face as she looks Norvallen straight in the eye
"If I meant doing it..." she lets in hang in the air, before she grins again.
"Well, Wizards and their books are boring anyway" she chuckles

@Zartana
"Very, very cruel. And I thought I could ignore that childhood fear and now I'm thinking I should be afraid again." Norvallen mentions with a chuckle.

@Atamar
"Norvallen." is the reply back to Atamar. "And that is a ... well the closest thing I've found matching it is a Swoop Lizard, but I'm not positive on that. Maybe I'll visit a better library one day and look it up. Its just always been there following me around since I can remember. He goes by Sama."
Pronounced Say-ma

"On the skills though, anything you can think of that will be dire in the Stolen Lands? The only thing I can guess that I may cover, that no one else touches, is probably cooking."

"Cooking is a good call. Especially if we are unsure if we will get to an inn any time soon out there in the wild"

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Don't I know it. One can only eat those trail rations or stewed meat for so long before you start going crazy out there."

"And I do love fresh cooked meat. Hence the bow. Now and then one can get fresh meat. But winters can be long and barren. Ive seen my share of cold and barren winters"

@Cassandra

The lord takes your letter without speaking, reads quickly, then looks up with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not exactly filled with confidence at this glowing recommendation. Still, equal representation . . . Have a seat and eat, decisions for my retinue will be finalized before first light." He gestures for the next applicant.

Edited:

Cassandra shifts uncomfortably and then pulls out another letter. The Master Scribe told her to give the Lord Alystair this one as well if Gurev's did not go over well.

She pauses for a reaction then she bows to the Lord and grabs a bowl of stew. She stands there wondering what to do with it when she catches sight of white. Next to the lord's table was another with a motley group. One of whom had white hair...and dark skin...and pointed ears. Drow? What was one of the underdark races doing here? And then more white hair, this time on a human. Huh?

She walks over to the table and sits close to the drow and the white haired human. Zartana and Norvallen Slowly she pulls down the hood to reveal a shock of white, almost silver hair herself. When they have noticed she smiles a genuine smile. "Thought I was unique with my hair. I'm Cassandra. Cassandra Lupin."

"Another white haired individual? Seems I might actually be safe!" she chuckled
"My hair usually gave me away before my skin or ears were seen. From now on I'm blaming everything on you two!" she chuckles some more
She takes a deep breath, then relaxes "I am called Zartana. From the House of Orlovsky. Pleasure to meet you."

-Posted with Wayfinder

"And I am Norvallen, well met," he greets after Zartana in turn.

He glances around the establishment, hoping to spot another with the similar hair color before sighing. "Damn, I'm still the only male I know that has white hair before old age. At least I no longer stand out too badly by myself anymore."

"Anyways what odd skills do you bring with you Cassandra? Apparently for me my most important is no longer my martial or magical prowess, but the fact I can cook." Norvallen can't help but chuckle while trying to say that with a straight face.

The swoop lizard chirps, "Correction, WE can cook. Its hard to ignore the little trick Sama here can do to help reflavor food when lacking the right materials and clean everything."

@Cassandra

Lord Alystair accepts the second letter as his second eyebrow rises to meet the first. He reads, the looks back up with an appraising air. "We'll see." then dismisses you with a glance.

@Angus

"Ask your fellow slip, dirty or sweet. I've got the grub." The woman continues to stir the pot.

Anghus' smile turned quickly to a frown as the woman stirs the pot and refers to the two halflings as "Slips". " Tisn't kind to use such words, you should watch your tongue, milady." His voice came across with that same snarkiness as when he adressed the Lord Alystair.

He did as she said however, and went to the young halfling girl.
"Nollaig Met teaghlaigh, Tá brón orm go bhfuil tú a chloisteáil go muc tafann ag tú an lá ar fad. Dealraíonn sí cosúil le píosa fíor cac. Feicfidh mé a bheith Ale salach, nuair a fhaigheann tú an deis. An bhfuil tú fostaí anseo nó daor? " Out came a spout of a language that sounded almost like a garbled, coded common, but certainly something different.

Halfling

The girl glances to to women stirring the pot, who pays neither of you any attention.

"Tá sí ceart go leor. A níos fearr ná Cheliax ar aon nós. Liom a fháil a íocadh, airgead a sheoladh chuig mo mháthair. Nach le do thoil praiseach seo suas go dtí mé, ceart go leor? amháin 'salach' teacht suas."

She then whirls down the steps to what must serve as a kitchen in this place.