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A Tiefling wearing a Fine breast-plate with shiny metallic brown scales enters the lodge. He makes his way to an empty seat at the bar, shrugs his shoulders back, and and pops his neck. Red wine with some sharp cheese please, preferably white.He peers around the room, it's been awhile since he's been at the lodge, and notices many new faces. He thinks back to his first days, smiles, and slides 5gp to the bartender.
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A small figure wearing a cloak of leaves enters the lodge, with the head of a pumpkin and a body of vines. He goes to sit at a table and fiddles his branchy fingers for a bit. After a few moments, a phantasmal teen appears beside him. The strange duo sit quietly and listen in on anything of interest, hoping they can snag a job soon.
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A nagaji enters the lodge, checks the job board with an annoyed face, sits down with a simple beer, and surveys the room, seeing much more experienced members of the pathfinder society converse and laugh. He decides more powerful friends would be beneficial, and decides to talk to them.
He walks up to vrothum and sits down.
"Hello, good day to you."
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A dour dwarf woman shoulders the door open, shoving it closed more loudly than she intended. She scowls at the BANG she caused, then hardens her expression and makes a beeline for the jobs board. "There had better not be anything as useless as the last mission. Harrow cards. Hmph." Not seeing anything that intrigues her, she turns away sharply with a growl and thumps up to the bar to order an ale.
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A gnome man walks through the door, pushing through and observing everything clearly. He wears new leathers as if they haven't been broken in yet and a pack that clearly is almost bursting. He turns around and closes the door softly as if not trying to stir a ruckus. He has glasses that sit near the end of his nose and walks towards the job boards looking up scanning the board.
"Let me see here..." he mumbles under his breath, "What can I achieve on my first time out." his sentence trails off as his hunt comes up fruitless.
He turns and heads towards the bar, hopping up onto a stool with his pack on the ground. He begins to order some food and drink. Looking at his remaining coin he signs and prays softly under his breath. He then watches the cooks in the kitchen making his food silently taking note of the food being prepared.
Remember act casual,"Good day for an adventure aye?" He turns to the other patrons at the bar. Squinting at the others in front of him.
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A rotund orc squeezes his way into the Lodge and makes his way through the crowd to the back corner near the bar. He leans a very large and very new looking spiked two-handed axe in the corner before dropping his loaded backpack next to it. Without saying a word he digs out a stained and patched hammock and begins pounding some spikes into the wall beams to hang it. Ahh, Luurg back home!
He spies the Ficus pot and drags it back over along side his hammock. A vigorous fig sapling grows there. "Ah, Leafy miss you fig tree!" He takes out a spear covered in leaves from his pack and drives it down into the pot next to the fig. It immediately perks up and sprouts another set of leaves. "Better? Gud." He grunts in a deep baritone voice.
Lastly the orc tests out his hammock, which sags under the weight of 300+ lbs of greenskin, but does not fall. "Ok? Ok." He says with certainty as everything seems to be in order. Finally he rubs his hands together excitedly before tapping his toeless green leather boots together five times and saying the words "MAKE FRUIT!".
All around his hammock sprout a number of fruit trees: apples, oranges, and pears! Then he does it again: "MAKE MOAR FRUIT!" More trees flood another small area behind the bar. This time more tropical species take form: pineapple, figs, star fruit, coconut palms, and who knows what else! He says one final time and even more trees flood the room: Limes, lemons, bananas, peaches, avocados!
With a toothy grin he rolls awkwardly out of his hammock and stands up, picking a fresh apple, a couple oranges, and a few peaches and lemons before heading behind the bar. "Luurg back. Fruity drinks back too." He looks at Sconzbar and waves "Whatcha want? Luurg make real gud rum drinks. Real gud. Ok? Ok." He takes down half the apple as he waits for a reply.
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Yangrit nearly jumps out of her seat in startled surprise as trees start magically sprouting all over the Lodge. Once she realizes what's going on, her raised eyebrows return to their customary lowered, glowering position. Settling back into her seat with her nearly-gone ordinary ale, her eyes shooting daggers at all the trees that BELONG OUTSIDE! They will die in here without light. What a mess that will be! Foolish orc! She debates leaving, but with another glance at the job board--Nothing new yet...--she resolves to wait out this ridiculousness...with extreme grouchiness.
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Luurg raises his sparse eyebrows as the Dwarven woman with RBF jumps then sits angrily.
"Oh, Luurg sorry, trees not bite. Mebe scratch, but not bite!" He grins, showing off his impeccably perfect orc fangs. Pearly white and straight as an arrow.
"Half lady wanna drink?" He asks, rolling a pair of hairy coconuts onto the bar. "Rum gud? Wid mushed coconut juice? Smooshed ice? Some 'naner whip cream?" He digs out a small, paper umbrella from under the bar and twirls it invitingly.
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A monkey jumps down out of one of the coconut palms.
Well, technically not a monkey, but a vanaran. More specifically, a vanaran female in basic white monk's robes underneath a calf-length black leather trench coat. How she already got into the tops of the magically summoned palm in the first place is a mystery.
"Mr. Luurg! You're back!" she squeals excitedly at the new bartender.
"We've never met, but I've heard soooo much about you. And the yummy drinks you make," she adds in a rush of speech.
"I'm Chhat. Can you make a drink for me? Maybe with coconuts, and something sweet? But no bananas, please." She pauses long enough to roll her eyes at the obvious stereotype.
"And maybe not too much rum, please? Ok?," she adds in an embarrassed whisper as she looks down at her petite frame. You'd guess she was not quite four and a half feet tall, and wouldn't weight 100 pounds even if her chestnut fur was completely soaked.
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Determined to refuse to lighten her mood, Yangrit doubles down on her contrariness. The deep lines between her brows and the corners of her mouth become even more pronounced as she frowns with all her might, meeting Luurg's jovial gaze with all the venom she can muster.
It really is impressive how hard she can scowl. Her face doesn't even break, though it looks like it should.
After a long, awkward pause, she recalls that Luurg is actually a Pathfinder, and thus an ally. An unbidden mantra edges into her mind: It is unwise to make enemies of potential allies. She closes her eyes and begins taking a series of deep breaths. As she does so, the heavy lines on her face and the tension in her posture begin to soften. It takes her a good ten minutes or so to calm herself before opening her eyes. Now instead of seething contempt, her expression shows something akin to resignation and duty. Not ideal, but still an improvement. She hesitates, then nods at Luurg and speaks with a subdued voice: "Rum is good. No banana. Please."
She doesn't even grind her teeth.
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The full bellied orc turns to see a monkey mang in his new trees "Hey now, pick some gud stuff sinceyas.." He points at the highest of the coconuts. "Gud to meetcha half lady mang, half monkey Chhat. I'mma Luurg." His name seems to drag on and on in a very looowww, guttural voice. "Take seats, Luurg make gud drinks."
Luurg makes a sad face as neither Yangrit, nor Chhat seem to like bananas. He pulls out his own personal banana stash and eats it in one bite, chewing only slightly. He tosses the peel into the Ficus pot with Leafy. His arms immediately grow to twice their length, making reaching things across the bar and up on tall shelves much easier.
"So two 'nanerless fizzy coconut rummzors. Ok? Ok." He reaches up and grabs his strange magical gnomish blender 5000 and blows off the dust. Out comes a mithril dagger that makes quick work of lopping a coconut in half and scouring out the meat. With some slop and flop he dumps in the ingredients, a jigger of rum for Chhat and three jiggers for Yangrit, along with a small spritz of lime and some frothy whipped cream topping.
"Oh, and da 'brella." He drops the paper umbrellas into the half coconuts and reaches out to deliver. "Real gud, ok? Ok." Then he slides an empty coconut shell onto the bar labeled Tips fer LuuuuuuurG.
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"Hey dare frog mang. No rum? Hrm... we gut budka? Ummm gin? No no, gin not go wid coconut n 'naners... Hrm. Ok, one coco-naner nut fizzy wid brella, no rum!" He gets to work, pulling in the fresh ingredients with his extra long arms and conversing while he works.
"So dare frog mang, how you keep eyeballs not dry? Froggies need wet, just like Luurg's piggies!" He walks around to the front of the bar and wiggles his green little toes that poke out of his boots. "Best way: stick in mud, or slimes, or water. Dunno if that werk real gud wid eyes..." He slings the beverage over with a toothy smile.
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"Us little frogs go back to the water now and then. But some of us like to stay up the trees. As high up as we can go. Hidden among the leaves where the mean things cannot see or reach us," says a grippli that apparently has been clinging to a shadowy corner of the wall for some time. Unseen as his all black form-fitting clothing conceals him in the darkness.
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As all this happens, Sconzbar closes his eyes and whispers a pray to the Lady of the Graves. He looks up and speaks vibrantly, "Yes Luurg, I would love to have some! May I have a Luurg special? Whatever is your best drink you can think up!" He waves at the people he has never seen before. Pulling out a 10-gallon hat with some ostentatious silver embroidered decorations out of his pack. He pops it on his head with a flourish covering his flame red hair.
He turns to the Dwarf, "No reason to look so glum chum, why not have some rum, we will fill our tums and sing of the glories of the lost! Surrounded by mates no reason to be sour or dour when its happy hour!" Que the music He whispers an incantation and creates the faint sound of jovial music as he smiles at his new fellows and ladies in arms.
"The name is Sconzbar Shorthalt, I follow the Lady of the Graves and bring peace to those dearly departed". The music begins to slow,"That's why it's important to celebrate everyday as if it will be our last. You never know when she'll call our name."The music swells once more and he smiles thinking of all the grand adventures he has yet to be called upon.
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Stoically Yangrit accepts her drink from Luurg and takes a cautious sip, holding it on her tongue for a few seconds. She grunts and nods in approval, tossing a gold piece into the tips coconut.
It seems the Lodge is getting too social and friendly for her. Pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone and not responding to Sconzbar's attempt to converse with her, she wades through the chairs and foliage to a seat in an out of the way corner to enjoy her drink in peace.
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Luurg spins around, his gut nearly knocking over the blender 5000 "How you hide so gud! Hands not get tired up dare? Huh." He rubs his belly in thought at just how many other Pathfinders are hiding in the Lodge that no one's seen in a dog's age.
He turns his attention back to his customers "Enjoy yer drink half mang lady!" He waves at Yangrit as she skulks off to be alone with her thoughts.
"Hullo Sconzbar" Says Luurg, reaching out a meaty green handshake. "Luurg make what you want. It gutta have fruit though, Luurg love fruit, only best drinks have fruits. Pick what you wants and Luurg mix it up real gud ok? Ok." He points at the laden trees behind him.
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Chhat accepts the coconut drink and sticks the umbrella behind her right ear with a shy giggle hidden behind her hand. She takes a small sip and lets out an excited "Eep," at how yummy it is. And how strong it is, even with just the one shot. After drinking only about half of it, she stumble-climbs over to Luurg's now-empty hammock.
"Heyyyyy, Mishtar Lorg, if yer gonna be bizzy makin' drinksies, Imma gonna borruh yer hammer, eep, uhh, hammock, ok? Ok." she finishes with the double 'ok' that Luurgh uses and a drunken giggle at her attempt at wit. And before she finishes giggling, she's face down in Luurg's hammock, the coconut shell clattering to the floor unnoticed.
"RUM!" A woman with teal skin and deep blue hair plops onto a seat. "And none of that cheap stuff. Coconut flakes and some pineapple, quick." She burps. "I'm still sober!"
"Sure. Just by drinking it, you would be watering it down enough." says the Publican. "We'll get you to at least 30-proof before the night is over."
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Luurg gives a friendly head nod as Chhat crashes in his hammock. Lucky for her she's pretty tipsy and doesn't notice the dubious level of personal hygiene of Luurg's bunk.
"You gets what the bossmang's say you gets fer rums. Luurg not buying all dis rum, Luurg just use what he can reach!" Which at this point with his long arms is top shelf!
He tends bar tirelessly, mixing up the newest batch for Aquavius and waving hello at the ever present, ever wise Publican. Luurg doesn't get all the man's jokes though, but appreciates the feedback. "Coco-pineapple rum slushy wid double straw fer extra fast brain freezin' comin' up!"
"We could probably just have the undine swallow each of the ingredients individually, and then just shake her up a bit."
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"Finally, the good stuff." Aquavius takes the rum and downs it one go. "Damn, that's good! Where did you learn how to mix like this?"
She snorts and bursts into laughter mid thought as the sly guy and the halfling talk behind her back. "Where I'm from, this talk would earn you a sword to the back or an evening you'd never forget."
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The door bangs open as a diminutive gnome woman bounces into the Lodge. "Oops! Sorry folks!" She doesn't actually seem all that sorry for slamming the door open as she energetically heaves it shut with another loud bang. She darts up to the bar, calling out: "I'll have your very fruitiest drink! I'm both thirsty and hungry! Whoo! Oh! Just a sec!"
As her drink is mixed, she skitters over to the jobs board, scanning it with eyes that seem to be vibrating. After only a few seconds, she shrugs and scampers back to her seat at the bar, jiggling her legs with an energy level that most people can't maintain without foreign substances. The hyper gnome begins chattering with anyone who doesn't avoid eye contact with her. "Hey guys! How's it going? Just got back from a mission in super-flippin'-freezing Irrisen. Snow's beautiful and all, but for the love of all that's good, I wondered if my toes would ever thaw after backpacking through that for days! Whoo! What about you? What've you been up to recently?"
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A hunched ratfolk in freshly-laundered green robes also follows along. "Any upward tick in temperature would be for the best. I think this will suffice as the only sign of cold I see for a long while." She holds up a large flower, with petals that look like ice and energy pulsing about inside.
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Pai's large, pale green eyes widen so much it seems they may pop right out of her head. With a barely contained squeal of delight, she exclaims: "OOOOH! Lady Vulpina! Ohmygosh! It's so great to see you! I got your letter--I mean, the invitation--and--I'm soooo excited! Oh! Hi Loam! Good to see you too! Oh, you found another one of those snowblooms! So pretty! Yeah, I want to go someplace NOT cold too. The tropics sound soooo good right about now." The headlong rush of her chattering abruptly stops as she realizes that she's not giving the illustrious Lady Vulpina a chance to speak. There's also a little voice in the back of her head that warns against slighting Loam, 'cause that's mean and it's not her fault that Lady Vulpina's all kinds of awesome! But seriously, Loam's cool, too.
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Vulpina tilts her head quizzically. "An invitation? I assure you that I have not an inkling what you refer to," she says, turning to Loam before Pai can supply any follow-up questions or explanations.
"And me without a hat to make vanish it beneath," chuckles the noble. "I felt rather like a marketplace sorceress that morning, I will admit."
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Luurg continues to mix his drinks. He recognizes Pai and waves. His oversized green hand sticky from fruit juice "Real gud fruitiest drink comig right ups" Luurg loads up the gnomish blender 5000 with all manner of fruit from his trees, at least a bit of each.. well over a dozen types in all. He wraps a few icecubes from under the bar in a towel and smashes them with the pommel of his dagger before adding those in as well. A couple jiggers of rum and set to pulse...
"Luurg just get back from mission too. Went to island. Lotta sand n stuff but no palm trees. Not so warm, not so much sun. Lotta fishmangs n stuffs.. giant mean crabbies. We dun gud, fixed the stuff n da tings real gud. Now on downtime, fun time." He smiles. "Drink dun." He pours the concoction into a hollowed out grapefruit husk and adds the traditional umbrella and reed straw. Its super thick.
"Hhrm. Here spoon, just in case. Mebe not a drink.. more like froze snack."
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"An invitation? I assure you that I have not an inkling what you refer to,"
Wha--? What does she mean? Ooooooh! It's a secret! Of course! And I just blew it! Gosh, I hope no one else noticed!" Pai's normally bright peach coloration deepens as she looks away, flustered. Fortunately, Luurg's amazing concoction is placed before her with impeccable timing. Immediately brightening, Pai gushes: "Oh wow! Luurg, you're amazing!" After a big scoop with the spoon (the straw is wider than her nose, so she just treats it like a garnish), she giggles. "This is the best drink I've ever eaten! Guys, you've gotta try this! It's soooo goooood!"
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Luurg gets a bit bashful as everyone enjoys his concoctions thoroughly, yet does give a couple obvious glances at his tip coconut. "Two moar same stuff? One extra extra strong? Ok? Ok." He reaches up into the boughs to pluck more fruit. Lucky for him his boots summoned in plenty.
"Deez fruits magical fruits. Which is gud if you no like old fruits, dey just go poof next day, always real fresh n gud. Not like Yak's Fuzzie's market.. his fruit no age gud, too many fruity flies me tinks." Luurg adds with a mutter under his breath as he crushes up some more ice cubes.
"So dis Minky... dis a him, a her, umm... you?" He reaches out a big hand and offers up an introduction to the ladies at the bar "I'mma Luurg. Who you be?" He pronounces his name in a very low and guttural tone, with a drawn out UUUUURRRGGGGHH.
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The noblewoman smiles and turns her head toward the barman. "Ah, I failed to introduce myself; my apologies, good sir. I am the Lady Vulpina," she says, and offers puts her dainty hand into Luurg's.
"Minkai is a land far east of here, in Tian Xia," she explains. "It is an interesting place. Blades like this--"
She procures a wakizashi from her belt and lays it in its sheath on the table,
"--are from Minkai originally, designed to make good use of bad steel."
As she speaks, her hand passes over the coconut and there's a distinctive couple of clinks as coins are dropped inside.
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Vulpina nods. "This is true, but so can the east side of this room, should one travel far enough," she says with a grin. "In fact, should one so desire, they can travel north until there is no further north to travel, then choose the correct south."
She sips her drink--
--and doesn't seem to react much, aside from a slight twist in her mouth.
"Excellently made, Mister Luurg." She pronounces it not quite as drawn-out as the barman, but still somewhat so.
"Now, there exists a noble house in Minkai, the Reipia. The Reipia family are a long line of expert duelists, and as such, have been bodyguards to the daimyo-- the local lord, if I understand Taldan tradition accurately enough to translate."
"Each generation has its tales, but today I shall speak of the time that the Reipia family was blessed with a pair of twins. They entered this world, not one after another as twins often do, but side-by-side!"
"Now, they were raised side-by-side in the family tradition, and learned to wield nodachis-- great, curved blades made for felling horses
or attacking from them. Between the two of them, they were said to be able to form a whirlwind of blood on the battlefield. They were unparalleled, as the Reipias traditionally were."
"One day, however, a great adversary came to assassinate the daimyo. When the twins went to defend her, they found that the adversary was simply too skilled with his own blade. The invader got in close and, with one swift, downward cut, removed one of the twins' arms at the shoulder!"
"In doing so, of course, he opened himself up to retaliation by the other, and was cut down in short order."
"But for the first time in their lives, they were separated; one with two arms, and one unable to wield his nodachi."
She takes a long, slow drink of her beverage, and when she pulls it from her lips, her nostrils flare as the alcohol hits.
"Would anyone care to guess how this story ends?"
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"Luurg no Mister. Just Luurg. Not have wifey, orc ladies too mean fer Luurg. Too much biting." He then leans on the bar as he listens in on the story.
As she nears the end, he makes his guess. A guess steeped in Pathfinder tradition it seems "Dis daimyo guy ask Society for favors, dey trade deez prestiges... er favors fer high shaman magics. Regrow lost arm. Gud as new? Ok. OK!" He waggles his sparse eyebrows with great flair and cleverness.