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"Might you have any vodka for sale, my good fellow?" he asks the merchant captain before they part ways.
Concerning the inns, "Hmmm, that might suit us. Which would be the more... elegant accommodations? I vwouldn't vwant to sleep in a tiny room that smells of peasant, after all. Thank you again, captain." Turning to the group, he shrugs, "Vwe could share rooms to keep the expense down..." Grigori's eyes then drift to Jazmine, of course...
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As the group winds up its business with the merchant, Zimti takes the time to appreciate the good wines. "You have chosen an excellent location for an excellent trade! Were I native here, I would long for your visits, and hoard my gold whilst I count down the days. Now why didn't I think of that?" The little man smiles broadly at the merchant captain. "Fear not that I may become your competition! I would drink all my profits away!"
As for the choice of inns? "So long as there is food, drink and good company!"
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Jazmine slaps her palm to her forehead. "I forgot all about that map. Well, do we want to rest up tonight and see about that in the morning? Or try and scope it out tonight?"
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"An ale! A proper dwarven ale would be wonderful about now." Hanud grins. "And what with the old man's prediliction fer cold, I will help to get us some rooms, properly separated ones." He says, looking over to Grigori AND Darius.
"And Darius, do check your blade at the door. I'm not for having to spend a few days washing off my favorite boots again. Perhaps the Frozen Ram would be a good choice fer this evenin?"
He looks to Grigori and Darius for the obvious joke, laughing out loud.
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The Frozen Ram is not quite what was expected. Rather than a signboard with a snowy sheep on it, there is one of a seige weapon - made of ice.
Entering into the tap room, there is a roughly fifty/fifty mix of humans and, well, humanoids. Not an elf in sight, and Hanud is the only dwarf. The barmaids however are scanterly atired and seem friendly enough. Rooms are not cheap - a gold coin a night, although they will throw in breakfast with that. After the first round of banter with Grigori it turns out that the beds can be warmed for you, but that costs an extra gold.
Hanud is out of luck with the ale. It is thick and peaty. After the first mouthful he is somewhat careful to strain the concoction through his teeth. It does have quick a kick to it though.
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"Hmpf." Grigori's brows crease at the jester as Jazmine links arms with him. Is she serious?! Oh vwell, perhaps my charms vwill get to her eventually...
"Old? You too, comrade Hanud?" Grigori looks offended. "I vwill have you all know that, like a fine vwine, I am a vwell aged vintage of merely 30 years." Though the priest seems to look too carefully at everyone's eyes as if to say, I hope they fall for that...
"Yes, the Frozen Ram it is, I suppose." Noticing Hanud's expression of anticipation, the priest thinks a moment. Then, "Yes Darius, do not enrage anyone vwith your mouthy antics and get us into a fight, eh? Vwe have more pressing matters." The dwarf's joke goes completely over his head.
Before the scantily clad barmaids can say "hi," the priest is on them with a carefully placed wink and a nod. Somehow, his hair is suddenly neatly combed, and the scent of a musky cologne lingers in his wake. "Grigori Yefimovich, at your service, lovely dear that you are. And, may I ask, what kind of, ahem, services might you provide in this fine establishment, eh?" The priest makes arrangements for tonight. He's certain to tip a couple of the ladies the extra coins they request for "bed warming," and happily a little extra on top of that.
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Ozak nods as the prices are listed to him. When the 'bed warming' comes up he nods again. "That will be with a closed pan of hot coals then? That sounds very nice."
Watching Grigori and seeing how he looks at the girls Ozaks face slowly grows more and more red. "Oh.... Bed warming..... Just a room then."He says very embarrassed to the owner.
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Grigori arrives a little late for breakfast looking like he hasn't had much sleep. The smug grin on his face tells all there is that needs telling.
Over the evening before and the slightly longer breakfast, the team has come to realise that there is a very intrusive presence of town guard. The check the 'Ram' at least once an hour, and seem to patrol the streets heavily as well. Any foreigners (such as yourselves) need to have a reason to be out on the streets.
While the inn is warm and cosy, and the beds clean, outside it is still freezing.
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After reminiscing with Jazmine and Giggles, Zimti makes the rounds chatting with the more welcoming of the group, and ordering a round or two where appropriate to keep the conversation flowing. The scantily dressed barmaids and the bartender did not escape his attention, either, as the wee man plys for the latest gossip and stories, while offering the heroic tale of how they drove off the army of ice trolls (and their friends) with naught but sticks, words, and a clever turn of a fetch game.
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Come morning, Zimti makes his way down with a slight headache to show for his efforts. He waves at the nearest barmaid/bartender, and asks for something to help take the edge off the effects of last night. "Think the market is open? Anyone with wares worth a visit to?"
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Hanud comes to breakfast, sadly, with none of the buzz he would have expected with the peaty ale remaining. No proper breweries, I'm sure.
Spotting the his fellows, he laughs heartily at Grigori and Darius' obvious exploits, then follows up with Zimti and Darius for the rumors.
"I hope the breakfast is better 'n the trouble those guards'll be." He says quietly after he sees them arrive a couple of times.
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The hidden lodge is disguised in an ale brew house. You dug a map off Runa (which is the map appearing in the links at the top).
It is (according to the map) a block or so away from where you stayed the night to... warm up.
As for rumours, lots of wild ones. Baba Yoga coming back a year early.
Ghost ships from the south. A hidden army of dwarves in the undercity waiting to burst forth. The usual.
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Grigori tells his own stories the previous night, especially later on with his two lady companions. He embellishes Zimti's troll story, making himself out to be the hero that saved them all from certain death. He as well tries to get others to tell their own stories about the locality, and tries to overhear anything not particularly meant for his ears on the rarer occasions he is not flapping his own mouth.
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The next morning, a tired and smiling priest is much relieved and ready to start the new day. After Jazmine speaks, he suggests, "Ah yes my dear, vwe should indeed be quick about it. Beautiful and brainy... the perfect vwoman." The priest looks admiringly at Jazmine.
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It takes some time, but eventually Grigori finds someone who knows of (or as it turns out, knew of) Aunt Marny's Bitter Brew. It turns out it went out of business about a decade ago - apparently the brew was too bitter even for northern tastes. It's been long abandoned.
Grigori does hear a lot about one of the barmaids from there called Sonia. She apparently was not only friendly but exceedingly uninhibited. She is still fondly remembered. "No idea what happened to Sonia, or Marny for that matter. Probably sold to cover the business debts."
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The guards patrol appears to be regular, and not aimed specifically at the pathfinders group. Several have been noticed through the town. You think with a bit of luck you could make it from the Ram to the spot shown on the map without attracting too much attention. Much further and you would run into a patrol for sure.
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"No time like the present then.. " Jazmine says as she finishes her breakfast and heads to the door, Giggles nipping at her heels.
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Grigori smiles at Darius, "And how vwell did you sleep last night, Mister Commitment, eh? Heh heh heh." he continues, "I'm afraid I vwas meant to vwander alone in the vworld. Commitment is not in my idiom. But it vwould be a most sad life indeed to never have the comfort of an angelic and beautiful flower here and there, and such an exquisitely rare flower whose presence vwe have been graced vwith," Grigori gazes lovingly at Jazmine now, "I vwould risk life and limb for even just one night, my boy."
...
The priest follows his comrades out the door, ready for another kind of action.
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"Oh Grigori, you really know nothing do you? I really should have a heart to heart to your parents about your education, but I fear they are dust and bones already. I live in the moment and not long term. Besides the prettier they are, the more boring in bed I found. These northern toughened ladies sure know how to warm a man. Hi hi hi!"
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The group times leaving the inn well. Hanud gives the signal and the group either saunters out, or slips into snow flurries.
Outside everyone once again remembers how cold this land is. Warm beds are but happy memories within seconds.
The snow however helps to mask the group. After a few minutes they come to a large, dilapidated building which sits crammed between equally dilapidated warehouses and flophouses. Its doors are chained shut, its windows are filled with broken glass and boarded from the inside, and its facade is faded, crumbling, and encrusted with icicles. Faded, hard-to-read letters are painted 10 feet tall across the top of the ruined structure—they read:
Auntie Marny’s Bitter Brew.
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Jazmine looks all around, trying to see a way in. She tests the chains and the boards over the windows. If this doesnt work, she turns to Giggles, and says "Giggles, Can you smell if anyone has been here recently? Or what way they went in?"
This extraordinary ability lets a creature detect approaching enemies, sniff out hidden foes, and track by sense of smell.
A creature with the scent ability can detect opponents by sense of smell, generally within 30 feet. If the opponent is upwind, the range is 60 feet. If it is downwind, the range is 15 feet. Strong scents, such as smoke or rotting garbage, can be detected at twice the ranges noted above. Overpowering scents, such as skunk musk or troglodyte stench, can be detected at three times these ranges.
The creature detects another creature's presence but not its specific location. Noting the direction of the scent is a move action. If the creature moves within 5 feet (1 square) of the scent's source, the creature can pinpoint the area that the source occupies, even if it cannot be seen.
A creature with the Survival skill and the scent ability can follow tracks by smell, making a Survival check to find or follow a track. A creature with the scent ability can attempt to follow tracks using Survival untrained. The typical DC for a fresh trail is 10. The DC increases or decreases depending on how strong the quarry's odor is, the number of creatures, and the age of the trail. For each hour that the trail is cold, the DC increases by 2. The ability otherwise follows the rules for the Survival skill in regards to tracking. Creatures tracking by scent ignore the effects of surface conditions and poor visibility.
Creatures with the scent ability can identify familiar odors just as humans do familiar sights.
Water, particularly running water, ruins a trail for air-breathing creatures. Water-breathing creatures that have the scent ability, however, can use it in the water easily.
False, powerful odors can easily mask other scents. The presence of such an odor completely spoils the ability to properly detect or identify creatures, and the base Survival DC to track becomes 20 rather than 10
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There is an alley down the back. Given the nature of the road, Giggles can tell people come this way quite often, but whether they go into the old brewery... There are no fresh tracks in the snow.
In the alley at the back, the group finds what must be the old back door to the brewery itself. It has large (closed) double doors large enough for a cart to get through. It too is locked.
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Barred doors are no obstacle to the ninja.
Sliding a dagger between the door he deftly lifts the bar enough to allow the group entrance into the back of the brew-house.
The remnants of a once-working brewery are neatly organized around this large, warehouse-like room. Huge metal colanders, giant steel pots, enormous fermenting vessels, and a massive steam boiler stand covered in cobwebs and dust, their edges coated in rust and their support joints and screws popping and bending under years of neglect. At the north end of the room, the floor slopes down to large roller-doors that are chained and boarded shut and the southeast corner of the room holds three tables covered in empty bottles, faded labels, and broken glass. High above the room, thick oaken rafters span east to west and support enormous wooden arches that reach up thirty feet above the floor to the ceiling, the roof pock-marked with holes and bird’s nests.
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"I wonder if they have anything special to drink here..." Darius softly says as he looks around snd looks at the bottles.
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