The town of Sanctuary hasn't seen a monster, bandit, or even need the sheriff for about a decade. Some stories said around the fire places tell of a sacred gem that keeps us safe, others say the totems around the clearing wards off evil, others say dragons rule the lands around us, but more often than not the rumors are Sanctuary is just far enough away from everything. With a sheer cliff at it's back and a deep dark forest sheltering it from the outside world no one really has reason to come our way.
Sheriff Longshanks sits outside most days in his rocker waiting for newcomers to come down the main path, a dirt road that is barely wide enough for a wagon to get through.
Though on rainy days he locks up his station and sits inside the Drunken Dragon. The most obvious place any newcomer would go to.
The 'Sheriff', which most residents call him, is a human Male who is in his middle years perhaps about 40. His gray hair falls down in long locks under his black wide brimmed hat. He wears his moustache in the long handlebar fashion which outlines his mouth. The years of smoking have made his teeth yellow and his is missing a few. A heavy repeating crossbow sits next to him leaning against the wall as a long sword is in its sheath attached to his belt. He wears a plain yellowed shirt and trousers but his leather armor dominates his wardrobe and his leather duster.
Urdrsk Stoneward is a young male dwarf, who along with his family commutes from Sanctuary to the nearby Cliffside Mines, digging deep into the earth to mine nearby copper and greenstone deposits. He wields a greatpick for his profession and protection. Urdrsk loves the simplicity of his job and his nearby family members/co-workers.
The Stonewards came from a distant dwarven city centuries ago, and most Stoneward family history is regulated to legend. The dwarven family is used to seeing the nearby races grow older faster than they do.
Urdrsk is a great lover of mushrooms. The young dwarf man loves them in all his food, and enjoys excursions into the countryside to hunt for them above and below ground. Urdrsk enjoys talking about mushrooms with druids and other woodsmen.
Urdrsk wears his shaggy brown hair and beard long, but manageable in the mines. He is quite stout for a dwarf but also tall, near 4 and a half feet tall; sadly this is often a hinderance in the mines. The dwarf miner likes to relax outside of work, often heading to the Drunken Dragon after work, but won't shy away from a bar fight if pushed to far. The young dwarf is unmarried, but his family is trying to set up an arranged marriage from a dwarven settlement several days journey away.
Maqan waved joyfully to Sheriff Longshanks and Urdrsk as he walked in. "Urdrsk! A skillet of spices potatoes with mushrooms and a large mug of ale?" Maqan called out from the bar, telling anyone new that he was a regular. Well most people in the town was a regular in some form or another.
"I've also got a deer stew on the fire! Bread is fresh too!" Maqan added before she looked over to Longshanks. "Sheriff you want some of that too?"
"Pòtàtòès wìth mùshróóms wìll bè fìnè. Brìng thé álè!" Grumpled the dwarf in his heavily-accented Common. Urdrsk sees his favorite table in the corner available and walks to it to sit down.
"Oh, someone has had a bad night." Maqan commented. She looked to her customer Andreas, "You think on the offer okay? I'm going to take him his ale and put his order in then I'll be back for yours." She said with a smile before turning, mug in hand, to the keg.
Maqan filled the mug up well, little to no foam, before walking around the bar to make it to Urdrsk common seat. "Bad night? The weather I take it?" She asked, gracefully placing the mug down before Urdrsk.
"Náh!" Urdrsk grumpled further. "Gódsdámn cláwbát nèst ìn thè nòrthérn tùnnèl! Tòòk nèàrly thè whólé dámn créw tò kìll thè dámn thìng ànd ìt's bábìés. Hàd ùs àll lóókìng òvèr òur shòùldèrs thè rèst òf thè dày." The dwarf miner took the mug and drained half of it in a few gulps. "Àhh!" Urdrsk exclaimed with an extinguished thirst.
"I'll bring ya two when I get your food out then." Maqan promised with a smile. "Is Dragon's Drought all you gonna want tonight as a drink or do you want one of the others? Chromatic Concoction is popular tonight as well as the Silver Stout." She stated.
"Dràgòn's Dròught's fìne", Urdrsk replied.
As he angrily pulls off a tick from his neck he seems soothed by Maqan's smile, "Aye! Some deer soup, bread, and milk would be great, my ulcer is acting up again." He does look in pain but also not looking for help, just another 'old friend'.
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Theodore the old woodsman comes in and stops to greet the sheriff before finding a table for himself next to Urdrsk. Once Maqan comes to check on him he offer, "I have five hares and two turkeys I caught today for coin."
The dwarf notices one of the local woodsman sit down near him. Urdrsk give the human a simple nod of acknowledgement.
Decent hunter, thinks the dwarven miner. Knows a little about local above ground mushrooms. Not much about underground ones, though.
A shrill shout could be heard from outside the Drunken Dragon, the shrill accompanied with a faint clanking.
"Noodles! Get noodles here! Reasonably fr.....", the sound dies down for a moment, "Very fresh noodles! Heavenly taste!"
From the inside of the Drunken Dragon a small top half of a cart with a crudely painted sign can be seen. On the sign is scribbled: Fresj mate noodles! Buy now! Behind it comes two tips of blueish-grey pointy ears.
One of the Drunken Dragon's regulars, Colvin Hedgebury, looks up fom his seat and out of the window. He stands up and walks outside.
"Say little fellow, what you got there?"
"O you! Big! Strong man! Ah yes! These... These are called noodles yes! Never taste before! Is good! Very good! You want?"
"Sure I'll try, you have some bowls? How much for a bowl of them?"
A short bit of silence as the shrill voice mutters in himself, then he responds...
"Two coppers! For this one, yes! Very tasty! Worth money! Want bowl back!"
Silence again.
"Peese...No...Pliisch... No... Please?", the figure tentatively asked.
A moment later Colvin comes back into the Drunken Dragon with a damping bowl of what the figure outside called 'noodles'.
"Maqan? Could you bring me a spoon or a fork please. I don't know how to eat this haha."
Looking up the road Andreas sees the signs oh hope, lights of a village. Despite the rain soaked clothes and muddy boots, Andreas gets an extra kick in his step. "Maybe my luck has just turned around... Once I get to this village, I'll find someone to help me fix my wagon and then I'll be able to bring my wares here to recoup the cost."
Once arriving in Sanctuary, Andreas finds the closest thing to a tavern and walks in. The heat of the fire and the smell of any food brings a smile to the old mans neatly kept bearded face. Handing a soaked duster and hat by the fire to dry, Andreas pulls himself up to the bar and with a warm smile hails the bar maid. "Evening ma'am, a large mug of ale and a hot plate of whatever that deliscous smell is. Please. Oh, and where do I find myself this rainy evening?"
Looking around, Andreas takes in the locals and possible future customers.
As Maqan begins mentioning the prices, Andreas is mentally going through the total cost as he pats his coin pouch. When she mentions the hot bath that is included in a nights stay the decision is made. "Maqan, my dear, a hot bath after walking a few miles in the rain would be exactly what is due. A mug of ale, deer stew, and fresh bread please." Andreas says with a smile.
Taking a look around the room from the bar and sees the dwarf sitting at a table Humm, maybe a craftsman? Their kind typically are good smiths. I wonder if this village has a wainwright, need to get my wagon up and running...
"Alright Sheriff, but we've got a better cure for that you know." Maqan said with a sigh before she headed back to put the orders in. While on her way back she tossed a fork to Colvin with grace. "I keep trying to tell Cook-Cook to keep forks out there and just bring them in when people are done." Maqan stated before she moved into the kitchen. A few moments later she came back out with a tray of food and a drink. She took a bowl of deer stew out to the Sheriff along with a long roll of fresh bread. Then she set down the milk. "If that milk doesn't work, I've got some cream that I was gonna use for baking tomorrow. You're welcome to that Sheriff." Maqan said with a soft smile before she moved back to Andreas and set down a bowl of deer stew and a long roll. She then tucked the tray under her left arm, "So, for a one night stay that includes dinner, a hot bath, and breakfast the next day is three silver. That is for a normal room, but if you want to upgrade to a larger room it will be five silver. The larger rooms come with their own bath, while the normal rooms share a bathing area. It will still be a hot bath either way! I promise you that! The difference is the time you get in it. In your own room it is yours till it gets cleaned the next day. Also breakfast is a large one so you will get your money's worth. Eggs as you order them, bacon and sausage, toast, and brown sugar oatmeal." Maqan explain, a friendly smile on her face the whole time.
Urdrsk's face sours at the mention of the goblin cook.
Can't believe he's allowed in Sanctuary's town limits. F#<king goblins..!
Eventually the door into the Drunken Dragon opens up a little and a small blueish-gray head pops in. It begins to count the number of people, then doing math on his hand, he pops back out. Pops back in, seeing Colvin eat with a fork and slaps his head, pops back out again.
The door opens up more and Cook-Cook stands there holding 5 bowls of his noodles in a precarious balancing act. 2 bowls in each hand and one on his head, all bowls now having some sort of old utensil in it to eat the noodles with. They vary between forks and spoons.
"Gree...tings! Anyone good noodles? They very good! Sent from above! Good rest-c-pea!"
He moves through the Drunken Dragon, trying to make everyone hungry for his cooking. He first makes his way to Maqan and offers her a bowl in recognition of her establishment. He holds up his right hand as he bows a little.
"For you! Fee of charge! On the.. house!" He looks up to Maqan, hope in his eyes.
If she would allow him, he makes his way through the rest of the Drunken Dragon, starting first with the Sheriff Longshanks in his rocker. Strangely enough with all the sudden motions, none of the bowls seem to spill any liquid or noodles from them.
"Also fee! On Cook-Cook!" the little goblin again offering up the bowl in recognition of the man's importance in the town.
He then walks past Theldore and Andreas, offering them a bowl of noodles. "One copper? Very tasty noodles! No day same! But good anyday!"
Lastly he will walk by Urdrsk and offer him the bowl on his head, bowing down a little.
"Mister dwarf? You want noodle? Iss good!"
Cook-Cook seems to have a little problem constraining his enthusiasm and impulses, but he is becoming a more abiding resident of Sanctuary.
"No!" Urdrsk growled at the goblin. Perhaps a little too loud, because the dwarf noticed other members of the bar were looking in his direction. "I'm fine with my potatoes and mushrooms", Urdrsk added, in a less aggressive tone.
Cook-Cook jumps back a bit, the bowl of noodles balancing on his head sliding off of his head. The goblin catches it with both hands.
He looks a bit deflated at Urdrsk his outburst.
"No noodles? Is fine. May His Heavenly Blessing keep you well-fed."
Cook-Cook moves over to the farthest window from Urdrsk and keeps an eye out on his little noodle-wagon, whilst waiting for any takers to finish their bowl and return them to him.
He takes out a spoon from his little brown apron pocket and mindlessly begins to eat the herbaceous broth surrounding the spare bowl of noodles.
Listening to what is included in the upgraded room, Andreas slightly bobs his head side to side as he is having an internal debate. “Ah the hell with it, I will go with the larger room. If it wasn’t for the fact I’m sopping wet and chilled to the core I wouldn’t normally go for it. But, a long soak before bed is what is needed.”
As the goblin walks by offering his noodles for a copper, Andreas fishes one out and places it in the palm of the goblins hand. “I’ll take one little friend!” As the goblin walks away with the remaining bowls of noodles he slides the bowl to the edge of the bar with no intention of eating the noodles.
Hearing the gruff No! from the dwarf Andreas turns his head to what is happening. Seeing the dwarf and goblin interact it pulls a smiles to his face. When the dwarf’s eyes catch Andreas he offers a strong nod of the head.
Turning back to the bar he makes eyes at Maqan and holds up the five silver. When she makes her way over, Andreas hands her the five silver. “I think I might go over and join that dwarven fellow in a meal. It has been a bit since I have heard tales of the mountains, I wonder what he knows. Please keep the ale flowing.” With a smile he places the roll in his deer stew. In one hand he grabs his mug of ale and his stew in the other and makes his way to the table where the dwarf is sitting.
“Blessings of the ancestors upon you, master dwarf. Do you mind if I join you for this evening meal?” Andreas stands waiting for the dwarfs response.
“Blessings of the ancestors upon you, master dwarf. Do you mind if I join you for this evening meal?” Andreas stands waiting for the dwarf's response.
Urdrsk, now annoyed by all the disturbances, looks up to see a haggard human. The dwarf was ready to tell berate this stranger, until he spoke the ancient dwarven Words of Hospitality. Granted not in Dwarven, but the more difficult 'Common', but they were said. His gave Urdrsk pause, perhaps the ancestors were listening in to this conversation right now?
"Èrh..Ànd thè bléssìngs òf yóur àncèstors bè ùpòn yòù, stràngèr," the dwarf fumbling with the proper words. "Òn thè wàll nèxt tò yòu, thèrè's à hòòk tò hèlp yòùr gèàr ànd clòàk dry às yòu èàt.'
"Alright Sheriff, but we've got a better cure for that you know." Maqan said with a sigh before she headed back to put the orders in.
"Yes... I know your 'curative' elixirs, and they do me in a different way!" He spouts off in jest to Maqan.
A few moments later she came back out with a tray of food and a drink. She took a bowl of deer stew out to the Sheriff along with a long roll of fresh bread. Then she set down the milk. "If that milk doesn't work, I've got some cream that I was gonna use for baking tomorrow. You're welcome to that Sheriff." Maqan said with a soft smile before she moved back to Andreas and set down a bowl of deer stew and a long roll.
He returns the soft smile with a grateful one, "Thank you dear. I hope the milk does the trick." Anyone else looking at him would get the grump eye, but the rest of you can tell he has a soft part in his heart for Maqan.
He eyes the 'noodles' with disdain but shrugs and takes the bowl. He inspects it closely and then smells it while searching for anything 'off'. He thinks to himself, 'Goblin standards are not typically up to human standards.' To his surprise he doesn't find any hair or other no goes for him and takes a few slurps. He nods to the goblin saying, "Hey these are pretty good! Thank you."
"Thank you Cook-Cook." Maqan said with a smile as she took the bowl. "I'll eat them when I get a chance." She added before she moved to get back to work and allowed the people to keep going about their business. Maqan placed the bowl of noodles down behind the bar, just below the window to the kitchen. She places a plate on top to keep the heat in while she worked.
Maqan moved and accepted the coins from Andreas with a kind nod "I'll go tell my pa to get your room read once I've taken Urdrsk his dinner. Far warning, if you're going to be talking to him, he's a bit gruff but nothing horrible." She advised with a nod before moving on.
With luck her mother placed a large skillet into the window and with one smell Maqan knew who it belonged to. Using her apron as a hot hand, Maqan got the skillet down and placed it upon a wooden slab. Then she picked that up and grabbed a fork, placing it in the skillet. Being careful not to touch the hot skillet and using the wooden slab, Maqan made her way over to Urdrsk and Andreas. She placed the skillet before Urdrsk and now Andreas could see were the smell came from. Chopped up squares of potatoes filled the skillet along with mushrooms, green onions, and covered in a rusty reddish spice with pleased and tickled the nose. "There ya go Urdrsk, I hope you enjoy." Maqan smiled before she looked to Andreas, "I'll go speak to my pa now." With that Maqan was off again. It always seemed like she was moving.
Maqan opened the door that lead to the inn, one could see a man with aging blonde and white hair. He was a bit on the heavy side but not unhealthy like. "Pa, we've got a man whose paid for the large package. So he'll be in some time tonight, I'd suggest the blue room. He'll also be wanting a hot bath so I'll come tell you when he's thinking of retiring so that the water can be ready." Those close to the door could hear her say. "And he hasn't signed yet so we'll need that from him." Finishing that, Maqan closed the door again and made her way back to Andreas. "Just let me know when you want to retire and we'll start warming the water, then go see my pa and he'll get you set away." Maqan explained before she turned her attention back to the people within the tavern.
With luck her mother placed a large skillet into the window and with one smell Maqan knew who it belonged to. Using her apron as a hot hand, Maqan got the skillet down and placed it upon a wooden slab. Then she picked that up and grabbed a fork, placing it in the skillet. Being careful not to touch the hot skillet and using the wooden slab, Maqan made her way over to Urdrsk and Andreas. She placed the skillet before Urdrsk and now Andreas could see were the smell came from. Chopped up squares of potatoes filled the skillet along with mushrooms, green onions, and covered in a rusty reddish spice with pleased and tickled the nose. "There ya go Urdrsk, I hope you enjoy."
"Àyé! Thànk yòù, làss." The dwarf greedily eyes his skillet of food. Much like the sheriff, Urdrsk has a low resistance to Maqan's positive nature and charm. With no further fanfare, the dwarven miner eats his meal.
The half-orc midwife had just delivered, fed, and bedded her third set of twins this week. Certainly a portentous sign from Dretha, if ever there was one.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Gryusha took her usual path to the Drunk Dragon, grateful for an ebb in the evening's rainstorm.
It was not an easy delivery, and she could still hear the disgust in the voice of the newborn babes' mother... To have her children nursed by an orc - not to mention the profane rituals practiced by this one!
Yet Gryusha knew it was those very observances of the Dark Mother that gave her a peerless delivery record - 22 births, 27 babes, and not a single loss between mother or child.
Gryusha had arrived at Sanctuary nearly two years ago, walking into the town with two mewling half-orc infants in her arms. Though she's tight-lipped about her past, the accepted story around town is that the half-orc fled her tribe with the children, knowing the life they had in store among full blooded orcs.
"Black Brandy!" she barks, slumping at the bar a few seats from Andreas.
Gryusha bears a number of small, earth-toned tribal tattoos on her pale greenish skin, and her hair is a mess of thick, well kept dreadlocks, adorned with colorful wooden beads. She can often be found telling the town children the orcish folk stories behind her tattoos, or with an infant in her arms, delightedly playing with her locks.
She wears simple green and brown robes, with the image of two gauntleted fists stitched roughly onto the back, stretched protectively over the poorly painted outline of a town not unlike Sanctuary.
Rummaging about her belt, she raises a furry brow, "That's six coppers, plus two for a hearty chunk of bread?"
Gryusha drops 4 copper pieces on the bar, begins rummaging again.
"Just hope to help some see new things in new light." she says brightly, winking at the young halfling in passing, before turning to Andreas, an evident stranger a few seats down, with obvious mistrust written on her face.
"Hah!" Gryusha snorts, clearly pleased with herself as she looks back to Maqan, slapping a hand on the bar (2cp more) before turning again to take stock of all those present.
Gryusha takes her time finishing her Black Brandy, sitting at the bar of the Drunken Dragon, watching the day-to-day happenings.
A contented smile sits on her face, revealing large canines, while hiding her more prominent lower tusks, making it a bit better than your average, (un)bearable orcish grin.
She nods to the relatively familiar faces of the old woodsman and gruff dwarven miner.
After Cook-Cook makes his rounds and moves off a bit sullenly, Gryusha ambles over to the Goblin, leaving a few more copper pieces and her empty glass at the bar.
"Who showed you to count?" she asks with mock outrage, dropping a copper on the table "How you forget Gryusha!"
The Half-Orc pauses, drawing back her outstretch hand, fingers closing slightly in her upturned palm. "Wait... is not test spicy smells again today..?" Gryusha's other hand unconsciously goes to her belly. "Cook-Cook's Test Spicy Smells noodles were good, but... not so good later."
Cook-Cook smiled happily from ear to ear as both Maqan and the Sheriff liked his offering. Especially when the Sheriff said it was yummy.
"Cook-Cook glad! Cook-Cook worked long time. Purr-fekt it."
The little goblin was a bit startled at first when Gryusha approached, dropping his spoon in the bowl. A tiny splash of what remained of the broth splattered on his apron and the window sill.
Cook-Cook jumped up and hugged Gryusha's leg.
"Always good seeing you Gryusha! Not need big words. Axesepted Cook-Cook when first met!"
He then scratches his right ear, feeling the three notches and different chips out of it as the scars from a different life. His face and jolliness disappearing a bit as he reminisces about his past.
"Cook-Cook learned counting recently. Grimtooth tribe beyond forest only had three things. One. Several. A lot. Not that great for cooking. My God with Heavenly taste showed me to count. Taught me flayfours, taught me rest-c-peas. Great God."
Cook-Cook looks around to his bowl of noodles with less broth than usual.
"Gryusha can have this!" He said as he picked it up and presented it to her. Quickly he traded spoons with a clean fork from his apron.
"Fee of charge! Less broth. Good friend to Cook-Cook! Not Test Spicy Smells Noodles. Cook-Cook uses what he can find. No day is same. Many herbs today from forest and fields."
Varrick Buttermaker woke up in his customary way: coughing and cursing in various tongues when Taldan just wasn't profane enough. His mouth felt dry as the Numerian wastes, and almost as toxic. He reached out instinctively for his mug, and tried to down whatever he'd left last night. Turned out to he some mix of whiskey and tobacco and ash. He'd put his smoke out in his drink again, a fond prank of Last Night's Varrick.
Morning Varrick was less fond. He almost made it to his slop pail before vomiting, which, all things considered, was progress. After some quick washing, his now-empty stomach had strong desires for grease and payback. Varrick gets dressed and slicks his thick black hair back. Some would say his face had "character." That's usually a euphemism for "yikes." Still, he attempted a lopsided smile. Who ever heard of a poet who wasn't an ugly drunk, anyway?
To the Dragon he heads out, thinking of a rhyme for "puke."
He barrels into the Drunk Dragon. "Maqan! It's been hours! And are those your lovely mother's potatoes I smell a-lingering in the air?"
"Èrh..Ànd thè bléssìngs òf yóur àncèstors bè ùpòn yòù, stràngèr," the dwarf fumbling with the proper words. "Òn thè wàll nèxt tò yòu, thèrè's à hòòk tò hèlp yòùr gèàr ànd clòàk dry às yòu èàt.'
With a nod Andreas places his bowl of stew and mug of ale down. Taking the stew soaked bread, he tries to use it as a spoon to pick up some of the larger chunks of potato and deer. After swallowing the hot scoop, he points towards the fireplace. "I already have my duster and hat by the fire. I guess I could have went to my room to wring out some of the wetness from my clothes, but the smell of Maqan's food kept me in place."
"The name is Andreas! I am a merchant, I travel the lands buying, selling, and trading goods to all of those I come across. What is your name, master dwarf?"
Eyes fixed on the dwarf, Andreas continues to eat his stew and drink his ale.
"Ùrdrsk Stònèwàrd", the dwarf said inbetween bites. "Ì, wìth my fàmìly wòrk thè Clìffsìdè Mìnès jùst òutsìdè òf tòwn. Whàt àrè yòù sèllìng nòwàdàys?" Urdrsk asked with some interest.
Mulling over the name in his head; "Urdrsk Stoneward... that is a dwarven name if I ever heard one, and a miner at that." nodding his head "I sell a bit of everything." taking a few more bites of stew soaked bread.
"You see, I came from a small farming community. We did not have much in the way of items you would find at a general goods store in the cities. We had to barter and trade to get certain items when they came available when travelers were passing through." Lifts up his mug and takes a long pull of ale and lets out a satisfying sigh. "I saw where they were taking advantage of our community and quickly saw a profit to be made. Once I was old enough I left off with my horse, a cart, and a pouch full of coin. And well... the rest is history."
With a nasally exhale Andreas continues; "That was until I was pushing my horse last night to make it to the next town and I hit a rut and splintered an axle. I need to find someone to help repair the cart..."
With a worried look back up to his new friend Urdrsk; "Ope, I am sorry about that. I tend to get long winded when I am around people. Long hours on the road between towns tend to make a man in need for conversation."
"Miners you say? What resources are you able to pull from the hills?"
With a worried look back up to his new friend Urdrsk; "Ope, I am sorry about that. I tend to get long winded when I am around people. Long hours on the road between towns tend to make a man in need for conversation."
"Miners you say? What resources are you able to pull from the hills?"
A tiny smile crosses Urdrsk's mouth as the human got the hint he was talking too much. "Cóppér, mòstly. Àlong wìth gréénstóné. Thè sùrvèyòrs sày thèrè mìght bè morè vàrìètìès ìn thè ròck, bùt thàt's whàt wè'vè fòund sò fàr.'
The night comes sooner than expected likely due to the amount of ale or other drinks each of you imbibe. The sheriff gets up and nods his head down to Maqan as he tips his hat and gets up from his table. He hobbles a bit as the feeling returns to one of his legs he toddles to the door waving off any help from anyone. He opens the door and a great gust of wind blows in making all the flames flicker and shadows leap around the room. Another figure enters as the sheriff leaves bumping into the old dragon. As the locals call the sheriff sometimes, though only those who have been around for decades.
The new figure is a slim one, though her outer coat is very thick. As it gets hung up on one of the hooks near the fireplace her figure is revealed. She is obviously out of place with studded leather armor, bow on her back, and many blades all over her body. The elf looks around and her long ears give away her racial heritage. She gracefully moves up the bar almost skipping yet not childlike. Many of the men in the room turn their gaze along her path. Though she waits with patience to be waited upon, or perhaps for someone to buy her a drink. Which a few of the older boys in the town appear to start to get up from their chairs working on defeating the fear of rejection.
Recognizing Urdrsk desire for a meal in peace, Andreas sits quietly and enjoys the warm stew that helps thaw his chilled bones. From time to time raising his mug to signal Maqan for a refill.
As the time goes by he watches the inebriated sheriff struggle making it to his feet and walking to the door, the figure that passes by catches his attention. Studded leather armor, bow, and blades... the obvious look of an adventurer. "Blood and ashes... just my luck. An adventurer comes through and my cart is broken down miles away."
Andreas watches he approach the bar waiting for service and the boys starting to approach. Turning his head towards Urdrsk he speaks up with eyes still on the woman; "Just because there is no bard in the tavern doesn't mean we won't have entertainment... this should be good."
Andreas watches the scene as he slowly sips on his ale.
Andreas watches he approach the bar waiting for service and the boys starting to approach. Turning his head towards Urdrsk he speaks up with eyes still on the woman; "Just because there is no bard in the tavern doesn't mean we won't have entertainment... this should be good."
Andreas watches the scene as he slowly sips on his ale.
Urdrsk silent shakes his head, agreeing with Andreas. The dwarf shifts his attention back and forth from his mug of ale to the failure that is to come.
Unsurprised at the goblin clinging to her leg, Gryusha pats Cook-Cook's head affectionately.
"Yes. Or none. Sometimes too many." she adds, quietly, briefly solemn as she also reflects on the use of math in tribal society.
Gryusha plucks the tip of Cook-Cook's right ear as the goblin scratches his left. "Big feelings always better then big words." she says, smiling.
Taking the offered bowl, the half-orc sits heavily in a nearby chair and tips the broth to her face, quickly shoveling the noodles down.
Barely listening to the newcomer's tale, Gryusha's ears perk as Andreas mentions his wagon of goods.
We do need new supplies & replacement tools in the Life Locker. The thoughts flit through her head in her native Orcish, referring, as she does, to the large medicine closet in the women's living quarters.
A raised eyebrow, faint smile, and flick of the eye toward Varrick are her only other motions when the elven woman moves in, and the room moves with her.
"No bard!" she says sharply & softly to Cook-Cook, grinning and patting the little creature's back, perhaps a tad too hard. "Watch the men see the elf!"
She continues, snickering, eyeing the resident, smooth talking lush more intently now for his own reaction to the elven adventurer.
She grins at what the town has to offer in her entertainment in young men. She takes the offered free drinks and leads each of them on with little flirtations, just enough from one boy to the next to let each of them think she is still interested. Well intoxicated she leaves with them all, roudy and hanging on to two of them, they leave as a quartet.
It is strange to see one elf let alone another in this small quaint village, and yet another walks solidly through the tavern door.
Though as the other one was slim he is built. He is an imposing figure with a 6 foot tall body, lithe and strong, but much bulkier than that of his kin, of 160 pounds. He has a proud air about him. He would appear to be in his prime but has seen his share of battles and many fires of different forges, leaving his body charred and scarred, perhaps another reason see him as imposing. His coppery red hair is kept short for practical matters and his hazel eyes seem to glow at times. His traveling cloak and hat are green and browns though underneath you can see hints of blood red scarlet at his neckline over the bandedmail and at his breeches. A simple silver band around his neck is his only adornment. An elegant curved blade rests on his shoulder as he holds its tight black leather wrapped handle. The blade is over five feet long, a massive sword for the village. He also has a few daggers, a warhammer, a sling, and a pouch of bullets on his belt. Another obvious adventurer.
He does not take off his cloak as it is dry, he nods to the other elf and shakes his head letting the four of them leave without a second thought. Walking up to the bar he drops a cloth sack on the bar. With a crash coins roll and he states with a grin, "A round for the house! The largest room you have and the strongest drink you have, the Grimtooth tribe is no more!" Most of the coins are silver but there are a few gold for every 15 silver. The bag is about 150 coins.
As he shares drinks with the normal customers he asks many pointed questions such as: "What keeps this place so safe from Monsters? Do you really have no problems here? A massive crystal you say, any ideas where it might be located? Anyone willing to go look for it. I have this here map that points out a treasure of some kind in tunnels below the cliffs. Anyone willing to give me a hand?"
Cook-Cook takes in the scene with the boys trying to go after the elven maid clad in black clothing. It was amusing to see them try, but it actually sort of worked?
The blue goblin moves over to gather up the empty bowls and cutlery while the elf is still busy flirting with the young men. He finds the untocuhed bowl Andreas gave him a copper for and scowls. Stupid human... Tries to be polight... better to say no... more honest...
He gives Andreas a sort of death stare while looking his way. He stacks up the full bowl on top and moves towards the door himself.
While he is walking past the elven woman he tries to pipe up a little, but it's difficult with his hands full.
"You adventurer? What you do?" He asks as he moves between the tables.
Then as the door opens to reveal the bigger elf with the sword, Cook-Cook is just picking up the last two of his bowls, rearranging them so the full one is on top again. They're stacked so he has to look from the side to see where he's going.
As the stranger mentions the end of the Grimtooth tribe, Cook-Cook, in a moment of disbelief, astonishment and a slight tang of grief throws up his bowls in the air, the bowls and cutlery clattering against each other. The noise drawing attention to him.
Cook-Cook manages to catch four of the five bowls, but one bowl breaks on the floor. Luckily it wasn't the full one.
Now with a bowl in each hand, one overturned on his head and one balancing precariously on his shoulder he looks towards the stranger.
A faint attempt at a disarming smile at the man, he looks just like his former tribesmen as they were also of blue-grayish or green-grayish colour.
He tries to back out of the door slowly.
Gavin Fickletoe stumbles into his family's shop, out of breath and soggy from the rain, hoisting a clutch of rabbits with a big smile across face as he hangs his cloak by the door. "Pa, I got four today!"
Though Gavin's dad was nowhere in sight, his mother Gala enters from the kitchen, "Gav, it is well past dusk. You should have been back a hour ago!" Stepping forward, a half frown on her face, she reaches up and straightens his messy hair before taking the rabbits. Looking down at his bare feet she sees a wealth of mud and leaves on them. "No doubt you were getting in to some shenanigans... I hope you weren't off playing in those ruins. I don't like when you go there, and your father gets a bad feeling in his toes."
Gavin sighs and looks down before perking up with excitement. "I know... but, look what I found!? Treasure!" He holds up a few copper pieces, tarnished and bent with age, along with the broken hilt of a dagger, and a rusty iron goblet.
His mother only chuckles, "Oh, Gavin. I need to get these conies in the stew or we'll never eat tonight. Get cleaned up and find your father, I think he needs you to run something over to the Dragon before dinner."
Sure enough, Gavin's father Godrick had a bundle of cured meats for him to deliver to the Drunken Dragon, the only inn and tavern in their quiet village. It was wrapped up tight in waxed leather, and he hustled through the rain, jumping over puddles when he could, on his grand mission. Bursting through the taproom door with a big smile on his face and a gasp for breath. "Hey Maqan, I got your delivery from Fickletoe's Fine Meats! You want it up here, or should I take it to the kitchen?"
Gavin excitedly nods and darts past into the kitchen, his quest almost complete. Passing the end of the bar, he catches the half-orc's gaze and waves. In the kitchen he calls out to the lady hard at work, "Mam Sarkany, I've got your delivery - smoked duck sausage, spicy rabbit salami, and one side of dry-cloved venison. It's been a good hall as of late!" He gratefully takes the package that he is to take back to his mom, placing it in his sack before throwing it over his shoulder. He then accepts the pouch of coin, carefully tucking it away within the folds of his coat.
Coming back out front, he looks up to Gryusha with a big smile, "Heya! You look tired, did you deliver any more babies today?!"
His traveling cloak and hat are green and browns though underneath you can see hints of blood red scarlet at his neckline over the bandedmail and at his breeches. A simple silver band around his neck is his only adornment. An elegant curved blade rests on his shoulder as he holds its tight black leather wrapped handle. The blade is over five feet long, a massive sword for the village. He also has a few daggers, a warhammer, a sling, and a pouch of bullets on his belt. Another obvious adventurer.
Watching the newcomer cross the room, Andreas raises an eyebrow when he sees this armored and heavily armed man. “Urdrsk, who is this man? Has he been here before””
Walking up to the bar he drops a cloth sack on the bar. With a crash coins roll and he states with a grin, "A round for the house! The largest room you have and the strongest drink you have, the Grimtooth tribe is no more!" Most of the coins are silver but there are a few gold for every 15 silver. The bag is about 150 coins.
As he shares drinks with the normal customers he asks many pointed questions such as: "What keeps this place so safe from Monsters? Do you really have no problems here? A massive crystal you say, any ideas where it might be located? Anyone willing to go look for it. I have this here map that points out a treasure of some kind in tunnels below the cliffs. Anyone willing to give me a hand?"
At the mention of a map Andreas attention is fully peaked. Standing up, he brings his ale with him and bellies up next to the elf. “Maqan, more ale please.?” turning his attention to this elven man, Andreas smiles; “A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting my elven friend. We don’t know one another but my name is Andreas, I am a traveling merchant. I have found myself an attraction to maps. Cartographers are a unique breed. Each one leaves their own mark on each map. Even if two of them do the exact same map, there are minor nuances that tell you who the artist is. If you don’t mind, may I take a look at this map you speak of?”
Andreas takes a pull of his remaining ale and smiles a warm smile at his new elven friend.
Watching the newcomer cross the room, Andreas raises an eyebrow when he sees this armored and heavily armed man. “Urdrsk, who is this man? Has he been here before””
The dwarf gives a noncommittal grunt.
As he shares drinks with the normal customers he asks many pointed questions such as: "What keeps this place so safe from Monsters? Do you really have no problems here? A massive crystal you say, any ideas where it might be located? Anyone willing to go look for it. I have this here map that points out a treasure of some kind in tunnels below the cliffs. Anyone willing to give me a hand?"
Urdrsk's eye raises at the sound of treasure, and follows Andreas to the snooty elf.
"Ì, ànd my fàmìly, mìné thòsè clìffs,", a tall dwarf said to the elf adventurer in a heavily-accented Common. "Ì fìgùrè Ì mìght hàvè thè bèst wòrkìng knòwlèdgè òf thè àrèà." Urdrsk folds his arms in front of his chest, as if to say 'Let the negotiations begin'.
"There once was an elven adventurer
Looking for potions to cure her
She came to the Dragon
and had a few flagons
Which truly seemed to assure her."
Maqan brought brought Gryusha two of the rolls with a smile and a wink, letting her know one was on the house.
"Varrick you know very well what that smell is. Do you want to usual or something else this time?" Maqan asked with a raised eyebrow.
When the elven maid and an elven man found their way into her tavern, Maqan was a little confused but it was always nice to see new faces. Though the elven maid seemed to be possible to cause trouble. Letting out a high whistle she looks to the group. "Don't make me go gettin' the sheriff back here." Maqan began. "Are you boys foolish enough to think that one woman is going to be taking on all of you? That would be very foolish. Not to mention she just cleaned you boys out making you buy her drinks. She's more likely to leave each of you high and dry. You really want that with how the weather is going out there tonight?" Maqan asked with a slight grin. Her years may not be many, but she had seen enough in this business. "Besides if you all leave, you'll be missing the free drinks this man just bought you." She pointed out as she began to go through the coin Saronis has set down.
Maqan first moved to help Cook-Cook, cleaning up the broken bowl. "Cook-Cook, would you like to use the tray to take all these back? It might help you more. Let me know if you want to use it okay?" With that her attention was to Saronis. "The stone is a myth." Maqan told him as she poured him a glass with Metallic Mead within. It was a lustrous golden color and the smell of honey was heavy from it. Yet the taste seemed to be very light. "We're just lucky because of were we ended up." She said. "We have two rooms that are called the largest room. Would you like red or gold?" Maqan asked. "I can have my pa set everything up. Oh and would you like a warm bath and a breakfast tomorrow?"
Back in the kitchen, Maqan's mother Kyreen smiled sweetly at Gavin. "Than' ye lad, here is your pay." She said as she handed a small pouch of coin over to the lad. "Tell ya pa thanks for me. Oh and tell ya ma hello! I hope she likes the bread."
Even as he awaits the half-orc midwife's response, Gavin cannot help but overhear the conversation between the human merchant and the elven warrior who both are clearly not from around here. As the half-orc takes another gulp, Gavin smiles, "'xcuse me, be right back!"
Darting down the bar to the merchant and the elf, Gavin smiles a wide, toothy grin. "Did you say you have a treasure map!? That's exciting! Wait, Oh, up in the hills? Yea, I know those cliffs - that's where the ruins of Blackstone Castle are! Well, I call it Blackstone Castle, cause the stones are dark. And, not really sure it was a castle, maybe a fort... or a tower... or a barn. Who knows, but it's ruins. It's exciting up there, lots of treasure to be found fer sure! Oh, yea, just yesterday I found this!" He pulls an old, leather necklace with an iron medallion from his pocket. Gavin spits on it and polishes it on his pant leg before handing it to the elf.
As he waits for the elf to examine the medallion excitedly, he swipes up one of the cups of mead. Smelling it, he grins in anticipation of tasting the good stuff. "Thanks Maqqy! Thanks mister! Say, what's your name mister elf?" He takes a gentle, long sip of the mead and smiles.
Gryusha tussles Gavin's hair, gently pushing the inquisitive halfling back. "Yes, two more babes join us today. And Gryusha always tired; watching little Fickletoe run everyplace" she chuckles.
Nodding her thanks to Maqan, tucking a loaf in her robes and munching the other, Gryusha paces slowly over to the group gathering around the elven man.
As she moves, she places a reassuring palm on Cook-Cook's back, nudging the goblin to remain and be bold. She shakes her head at the elimination of his former tribe. She didn't doubt the newcomer's words, but the hardy little creatures were notorious for finding a way back to the forest caves, and never bothered the townsfolk more than an occasional disturbance, with enough grubs and shrubs in the wood.
"People of Sanctuary do not need these troubles..." she states flatly, referring to tales of treasure, powerful magic, and mysterious adventurers. "But if they come, people need to be ready." she finishes with an affirmative, but wary nod to the well-armed elf.
Eating her bread roll, Gryusha leans in to hear the beginning of the tale, and see what aid she could lend to her extended, adoptive family.
At the goblins clatter he looks over and in a serious glare he asks, "did I miss one?" He let's the tension build in the room as he goes for the large knife on his belt and begins pulling it out of its sheath and then laughs. Once he recovers he states, "It must be a pet or have enough common sense not to be like its kin, it is still alive, but if someone wanted to pay the extermination fees." He stopped there as he looked around and began to drink again, turning to the human trader as he approaches.
"Andreas." He says the name simply getting the nuances of the letters correct on his tongue then he continues, "well met, I am Saronis, adventurer, two handed fighter, and slayer of goblins. Yes please have a look, help is gadly taken, Andreas.
Looking upon the dwarf his smile gets even bigger, "Excellent! Can we get permission if you are with us, or should we go see your chief? It will be much better with a dwarf or two in those tunnels. I like dwarves much better than most of my arrogant kin. Is there a particular drink I can produce for you master dwarf?" You know he is not begging but trying to flatter and entice.
"Gold and Red! I need a place for my sister. Your friends are in for a ride of their lives, she loves messing with young ones. The worst that any of them will have is bruises from the paddle. We would both like a bath and breakfast, no red meat if you would."
The lads could care less about Maqan's warning they went willingly in the clutches of promised charnel pleasure.
The elf smiles at the halfling lad and pats him on the head a few times as he looks at the medallion. Then with stark realization he takes it and puts it on the map, next to the legend. The three serpents making a triangle and the circle in the middle is the same as on the map. The map begins to glow here and there and the iron medallion clicks open, revealing a golden glowing stone. With unbridled surprise and mirth the elf states, "Well son it looks like you will be getting a split of whatever we find. With permission of your da, you might even get to go too!"
As he closes the medallion he states, "I will keep this for now, to keep it safe." As there are likely some objections he puts on his serious face welcoming more objections with intimidation. Also stating, "If I have to I will show you why it is safest with me."