You find yourself in the Orc’s Head Tavern. Found in the Low City of Languard You might be staying the night after your ship has come to port, drinking away the memory of your recent loss of fortune while playing “The Dragon and the Thief,” or perhaps working up the liquid induced courage to ask that guy or gal to dance since you walked in under the stone bust of the Orc’s Head.
One of the bar maids spotted you come down the stairs and pointed you to any table. She strolls up, sits on the edge of the table; “What will it be for you, hun? Wine or ale, and the meal is sausage, cheese and bread…”
Languard is a busy, noisy place. The administrative and mercantile heart of the Duchy of Ashlar it is, however, also a place of fear and gradual decay.
Sprawling over a series of rocky bluffs, and heavily fortified, the town defends Hard Bay’s narrow mouth and the settlements beyond. Many adventurers, sell-swords and mercenaries come to Languard. The closest settlement of note to Gloamhold, and the duchy’s largest port, here are found the greatest opportunities for fame, gold and advancement. Here also (for the unlucky or careless) are found the greatest opportunities for infamy, poverty and death.
Ruler: Duke Armas Nenonen
Government: Overloard
Population: 7,923 (6,614 humans, 287 dwarves, 189 elves, 236 half-elves, 264 half-orcs, 189 halflings, 144 gnimes)
Notable Folk: Atro Ahokas (leader of the Worshipful Company of Freetraders), Elmo Rekunen (First Protector), Hannele Auvuenen (High Priestess of Conn), Heimo Karppanen (High Priest of Abarin), Marja Pasanen (Chancellor), Taneli Eronen (Serat’s Stormlord), Taneli Laitnen (Guildmaster of the Shadow Masks), Varma Nikkonen (Lady Protector [of Darlen]), Veli Nikkonen (Captain of the Watch)
Alignments: LN, N, NG
Languages: Common
Resources & Industry: Fishing, commerce, general industry
Capital of the Duchy of Ashlar, Languard is its largest and wealthiest settlement. It is also the nearest settlement of note to Gloamhold’s doom-shrouded halls.
Languard is the oldest human settlement in Ashlar, founded almost 500 years ago by the first duke. Castle Languard is the city’s oldest structure.
Caves and caverns honeycomb the rock beneath Castle Languard; some run all the way down into High City.
Low City: The name given to the bulk of Languard sprawling to the south of the Svart, the Low City is home to most of the city’s populace. Also comprising the Shambles, Fishshambles and the Wrecks, the Low City is named both for its position below the High city and for the low-born status of most of the folk dwelling therein.
Arn's mail clinks as he comes down the stairs and takes a seat. "Ale, please, an da meal also, thank you lass," Arn say to the the maid as his eyes scan the Orc's Head.
With a smile and a wink; "Sure thing! If you need anything else my names Aila." She walks to the bar, and begins talking to the tall, roughly six and a half feet, middle aged human behind it.
As you scan the room, you see that it is mostly humans within. The tables have people at each of them but none are full. The hearth has a warm welcoming fire in it that cuts the chill of the evening air. Next to it, three musicians play on a corner stage. One of whom is singing.
"To dream the impossible dream,
To fight the unbeatable foe,
To bear with unbearable sorrow,
To run where the brave dare not go."
You overhear a few conversations, one of which comes from an apparent drunk at the table next to yours; "they's be gathering! Doom... DOOM I say! Gloamhold needs to be purged!" He stands from his chair and gets louder. "Soon it'll overrun all of Ashlar!"
At that the man behind the counter yells; "We've all heard your rants before. Sit down, shut up, and enjoy the drink."
The man does just that.
Aila returns with a plate and a mug of ale; "3 silver for the meal, 6 copper for the ale. Unless you are staying the night." The meal seems underwhelming. Cold sausage, and hard cheese and bread.
Rhaedlaf pauses at the top of the stairs to take in the room, sees nothing more than marginally out of sorts, and walks down the steps with a slight smirk of amusement.
He pauses to let a patron go by who'd obviously been drinking for awhile, then deftly sidesteps a tavernmaid with a full tray of drinks before settling himself at a small table. He then removes his wide-brimmed hat and sets it on the table in front of him.
"Aye, I'll be needin' a room as well. An what can ye tell me o' dat feller dat be rantin'" Arn asks as he pulls the coin from his pouch.
Arís, a stout female dwarf, enters the tavern and stands in the entryway while her eyes adjust to the dim interior light. As she pauses her senses are assaulted by the pungent smell of stale beer, the sound of the musicians, and muttered conversations . Slowly she looks around the shadowy tavern, noting the patrons and the mood of the crowd, but it wasn’t much of a crowd yet just a few lost souls trying to drown their worries.
She is comforted by the presence of another dwarf in the common room and takes it as a good sign, The ale must be better than a puddle of piss. Purposefully, Arís makes her way to table with the dwarf and takes a seat on the bench across from him. While she sits there she runs her hand across the worn oak table, looks up to the dwarf and wonders, I hope I don’t have to listen to this dwarf complain about his mines or some such nonsense.
”Well met, Arís Ironeye at your service.” Not wanting for a response she tries to catch the eye of the bar maid, ”Ale.
As you come down the stairs, the only small table you see sits empty in the corner. You might think to yourself it’s a good vantage point of the room as a whole. It sits opposite corner from the musicians, and you have a clear view of the bar and the stairs that lead down into this bar.
The patron you side step seems to be grumbling to himself as he makes his way with the difficult task of climbing up the stairs “they won’t be laughin with the overrun… Gloamhold’s growing…”
You pass by a table with a bar maid siting on the edge of it. She’s talking to a dwarven patron and without breaking her concentration, she gently grabs your elbow as you pass by; “I’ll be right with you hun. Make yourself at home.” The kindness in her voice makes you think of a bar maid that would work the inn in a smaller country village. It’s rather welcoming and homely.
You settle into the small table and relax for a moment placing your hat on the table.
The musicians continue to play and sing
To right the unrightable wrong,
To love pure and chaste from afar,
To try when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!
An averaged heighted human male passes by and Aila greets him, but quickly turns her attention back to you. “Who? Brennan? That ole drunk… gets a few drinks in him and he runs away with every rumor and tall tale under the sun.” she says with a dismissive wave. “Single bed in the common room is 2 silver, a two bed chamber is 10 silver and a four bed chamber is 20 silver.” With a slight smile she pops up; “I’ll be back, for the payment.” as she nods to a stout female dwarf walking towards the table.
It could be ignorance due to the fact that there are suddenly two dwarves in the inn, but it seems like Aila has placed you two together in her mind.
Running her hand across the worn oak table, the dwarf sits down “Well met, Aris Ironeye at your sevice.” trying to catch the attention of the bar maid; “Ale.” Aila nods and give Aris a confirming smile that an ale will be on the way.
Sitting down on the chair across from Rhaedlaf, the barmaid brushes her brunette hair out of her face; “Now that is a had I can get behind” running a finger across the brim; “I’m Alia, what can I get for you tonight? Ale or wine? We also have sausage, cheese and bread in the kitchen.” She gives you a waiting smile.
Earlier that evening, Nempura had been assigned a job to inquire for a tax collector the whereabouts of an offender. It was easy money. When she did find her intended target, the young mage returned to get paid, and instead, the tax collector turned out to be just a thug looking for someone to fulfill a contract he had received. He had his friends beat her and what little coin in her pouch was robbed off of her on the spot. Needless to say, this has not been the best of days for her.
Fortunately for the young bard, she had left most all of her equipment and goods behind in her room apart from her money pouch. With hopes to keep her room and to be able to eat tonight, she took to singing on backup on the stage. She is not present for the whole of the performance, but only part of it. The seductive bard shifts her hips in a partial dance as she proficiently sings along in harmony with the lead singer. She hopes that a portion of the coin they make this night will help her recover and keep her from a night in the stables or on the outskirts of town.
She has spent the past few evenings in the Orc's Head Tavern in hopes of establishing herself here, but the sprawling city takes some getting used to still. Half the time she is lost. The other half she is trying to not get mugged. The exotic bard, fortunately, has no visible signs of these hardships and is quite eye-catching for those who desire their performers to be attractive and scantily clad. She is clothed in golden jewelry and an exquisite courtesan's outfit designed to catch the eye. To distract from herself, Nempura currently controls a prestidigitation spell effect that is creating unique visual effects on the lead singer that match with the tone and vibrato used by them. She knows better than to steal the show and upstage the locals.
Unconsciously, the dwarf begins tapping her feet to the beat of the music. As Arís continues to enjoy the music she removes her pipe and packs it with a rich dark tobacco. The dwarf lights the pipe on the first try and takes a long pull, smiling with satisfaction.
Zalona came down from her room at the inn, and waited for the song to be over so she could take over... it was time for her set.
When she went up on stage, she motioned Nempura up next to her, knowing that she had been wanting to establish herself.
Leaning over to whisper to the shorter human, she says
Jump in on any of the songs you know. No need to be in the background if you don't want to be.
She starts in on her first song
I have often walked down this street before,
but the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before.
All at once am I
Several stories high,
Knowing I'm on the street where you live...
The door to the tavern opened and Helgar walked in. She looked around, somewhat nervously. Standing four feet tall, she was of average height...for a dwarf. Broad of shoulder, wearing study scale mail and with a shield hanging from her backpack, one might well have mistaken her for a warrior. That is, if they did not recognize the symbol of Torag that hung from her neck, or the masterfully wrought silver warhammer at her hip. She took a deep breath and told herself that she could do this. Languard wouldn't be that bad. Sure, she knew that humans were flightly, untrustworthy and couldn't tell beer from piss...but who was she to judge? As a stranger to the city it wasn't her place. Her face lit up when she saw that she was not the only dwarf within the tavern. It was what she was looking for! It was as her father had told her before she left home. When looking for a place to drink, never go into a tavern without a dwarf. Doing so would mean wasting one's silver with nothing but dirty water to show for it.
For a moment she thought about joining the two. But then she thought better of it. She needed a drink before doing something so bold. "Ale, if ye would." She said, walking over to the bartender. She dropped her backpack to the ground with a *thump*, not realizing until then that her shoulders had gone sore from carrying it for so long. "Plate of meat and cheese too. Soup, if ye have it." Having sat down, and with nothing else to do, she turned and made eye contact with Aris and Arn. With a slight smile she asked "Anything in particular worth drinking?"
As you come down the stairs, the only small table you see sits empty in the corner. You might think to yourself it’s a good vantage point of the room as a whole. It sits opposite corner from the musicians, and you have a clear view of the bar and the stairs that lead down into this bar.
The patron you side step seems to be grumbling to himself as he makes his way with the difficult task of climbing up the stairs “they won’t be laughin with the overrun… Gloamhold’s growing…”
You pass by a table with a bar maid siting on the edge of it. She’s talking to a dwarven patron and without breaking her concentration, she gently grabs your elbow as you pass by; “I’ll be right with you hun. Make yourself at home.” The kindness in her voice makes you think of a bar maid that would work the inn in a smaller country village. It’s rather welcoming and homely.
You settle into the small table and relax for a moment placing your hat on the table.
The musicians continue to play and sing
To right the unrightable wrong,
To love pure and chaste from afar,
To try when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!
The mage gives Aila a friendly smile and waits patiently, eventually ordering a mug of ale and some of the sausage and bread. Afterwards, he simply taps his foot in slow rhythm with the musicians and noting the gathering of dwarves nearby along with the third of their kind making her way through the room. Trouble? No, likely not. Just relax, Rhaed. You're here to take it easy and relax...
Rhaedlaf arches an eyebrow and leans his staff into the corner itself behind him. He then turns his attention to the two attractive women making their way to the stage to perform and sets his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers in front of his chin, listening.
The dwarven woman carefully counts out the coin as pays for her ale and tucks her flaccid coin purse into her belt. Hesitantly she takes a gulp and concludes, Swill. While she considers the many flaws of the brew Arís hears the question posed by a fellow dwarf and is thankful for the distraction.
Arís skeptically eyes the contents of her mug as she replies to Helgar’s question, "I'd much rather be having an nice dwarven stout but the ale is palatable if ye be drinking it quickly.” She leans closer while she whispers with a conspiratorial wink, ”but we all be knowing that the tall folk don’t let their brews ferment long enough."
The sour faced dwarf picks up her mug and tries to suppress a grimace as she takes another drink. With her lips puckered in distaste she continues, ”I be called Arís Ironeye, do you be having a name.”
What initially was a solo performance would become a duet, as if the two women were having a conversation. There is a clear and present smile on the human's face, as this thrills her, challenging her memory and knowledge.
"Are there lilac trees in the heart of town
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town
Does enchantment pour out of every door
No, it's just on the street where you live..."
Her husky voice pairs well with the elven beauty and arches with passion as she speaks of the street mentioned. Despite this beautiful singing, her eyes scan the room to engage the audience as well as occasionally her partner.
”Oh! Where’s me manners? I’m Helgar, of Clan Runeforger.” She said. Her ale came and she looked at it dubiously. ”Better than water...” Then, looking at Aris again, she turned in her seat and switched to speaking in dwarven, lest she offend the hosts.
”If ye don’t mind me asking. What brings ye to this...city? Where the chairs are too tall, the men look like lasses and nobody knows how to brew.”
Arís nods her head in agreement at Helgar’s assessment of human lands and answers, ”I be looking to earn some coin. I had a mining job lined across the sea in Swallowfeld on the Lonely Coast but it fell through.” The dwarf ignores her ale and takes another pull off her pipe before she asks, ”what be your business in these parts? Hear about any rumors of coin to be had?”
"Common room be fine," Arn pulls out a gold coin an places it in Alia's hand, "an keep the ale comin'."
"Hail and well met, I am Arn Blacksnow. And da ale ain't all dat bad fer tallfolk brew," Arn says draining his tankard. "I 'ave been wanderin lookin fer adventures an folks I can 'elp, I was gettin' board on guard duty on long patrols looking fer orc that we 'ad already ran off."
Helgar nodded. She took her ale and downed half of it. ” Mining and Orc Hunting...both honorable callings. And the Blacksnow? Ye’re...from the Volcano, aye? Alpine Valley?” She paused. Both of them seemed experienced. Would she match up? She hid the anxiety by finishing the mug. ”As I said, I’m from Clan Runetamer. And I’m here because of this. She took her warhammer and placed it on the table. It’s handle was made from solid mountain oak and the head was inlaid with silver. The Rune of the Forgefather was displayed prominently, with carefully placed etchings spelling our prayers along the sides. It was clear that much care and religious fervor went into making it. [b]”Made it meself.” For the first time she sounded confident, an easy smile on her face. ”Can’t go home with any pride until it is worthy of the Forge Father. I swore to do so. I need to add the runes to bring it to life. It’s me duty as a Runetamer and as a Cleric.” She said. Then, snapping out of it, she made eye contact again and continued ”Uhm. Anyways. It’ll be some time until I have that kind of skill. Me runes, right now. They’re temporary. I...” Her eyes fell to Arn’s axe. ”If-if ye would let me see yer axe. I could show-ah, uhm. I could bless it in the Forge Father’s name.”
"Aye, dammed thing be always blowin' ash all over an' reeks o' sulfur," As Helgar displays her warhammer Arn admires the craftsmanship and is taken aback when she offers to bless his axe, "it'd be me honnor ta receive da blessing!" Arn pulls out his axe setting it before the cleric.
”Me thanks for the ale Arn,” Arís says as she lifts up her mug in salute to the dwarf’s generosity. An abbess and a warrior. He is generous because he knows life is short and she is probably looking for a donation for her cause or church, she thinks as her hand moves of it’s own accord towards her coin purse checking that it’s still there.
Arís clears her throat as she watches Arn place his axe before the cleric and asks Helgar, ”Do ye just be blessing axes and hammers and such?”
Helgar nodded, took the axe and gently placed it on the table. "Abit more. Swords. Shields, Daggers. Armor in general. Can fix them, and bodies too. Healing wounds and such. The Forge Father created the world, aye? So askin' him to reforge a broken body isn't much diffrent than a suit of armor. Closing her eyes she turned her attention to the axe in front of her. Slowly, almost inaudibly, she began to chant. A spectral hammer and chisel formed in hands, and she began to work upon the axe, forming ethereal runes upon it. First she wrote "Az" upon it, signifying axe. Then "Dreugibryn" upon it, finishing the dwarven inscription. When finished it read 'waraxe of gold.' As the spectral runes took hold, the form of the axe changed shape, brining out the potential of the weapon. On the surface, the axe head appeared to be inlaid with gold. But when she handed it back to Arn, the difference was in the weight and handling of it. A solid, well made axe now felt as if though it had been made for his hand specifically.
[b]"It will only last for a minute. The longest that I've made it last so far is ten." She said, with some hesitation. "It's a simple blessing. But I know that I need more practice. It's why I'm here. Me runes could improve by sitting back at the hearth, just practicing for years. But I'm told that the fastest, and best, way to get better is to, uhm, well, be in the field. To put the runes to the test against the Forge Father's enemies. Jus'...don't rightly know where to find them. Not alone, at least." She finished.
From the stage, Zalona sees what the blessing does to the axe, and as the song ends, she signals Nempura to go on without her.
I'll be right back she says.
She walks over to Helgar and asks
Can you do that with a bow?
As the song ends, Nempura places the focus of her prestidigitation spell on herself. Somehow, her gold seems even more bright now. The effects are clearly magical and meant to catch the eye, yet once again, not so much as to be overbearing. The bard now allows the musicians to continue their tavern music. The beach-like culture of the bay, she has found, encourages the rum and wine to flow freely, so her song in the style of the merchants of the coast.
As the band improvises for a while, eventually, so too does she. The last few songs were sung, allowing distraction to be made for those who desired to hear the words of the song sung and to sing along. Now with her song, they will find it is improvisational and yet simple allowing them to focus on their conversations. At some parts she hums, in other parts, she will allow her voice to rise with the melody, but all in all, it is a simple tavern song, designed to build up and lift up the spirits and encourage people to drink all the more. The musicians make sure of this.
She will continue to sing in this pattern for a while before the song picks up to once again catch people's attention. The seductive bard seems to enjoy the "spotlight" as is witnessed by the open smile on her face as she plays with the song almost like it is a game. Eventually, knowing the desired path of the musicians allows her to sing a hauntingly beautiful song in draconic. The serpentine words repeat, as if designed to stick in the mind. Although unknown to most, the words sung would describe the beauty found in a single dragon's scale and how utterly unique they can be. One who is experienced in the language could wonder at how the song may apply to Nempura as being similar to this "dragon's scale".
Whether it is the music or the ale Arís finds herself enjoying the moment. She drains another mug and loosens her bodice putting her ample wares on display. The buxom dwarf raises her mug in salute to the minstrels and asks in a loud voice that carries across the common room,
Somehow in lost in the moment she misses the fact that Zolona is standing at the table trying to talk to Helgar.
Still waiting for an answer from Helgar, Zalona turns to Aris and says
We take requests. What do you want to hear?
The dwarf looked up, surprised to see an elf standing before her. "Oh...yes...?" She said, then catching herself said "Yes. Certainly. If it is a weapon, then the Forge Father can bless it. But as I was saying to me kinsman here. It doesn't last very long. So it's only of real use for someone that I be travelin' with." She stopped as Aris boomed ”Can ye be playing a nice Dwarven Ballad?” Somewhat relieved to have the attention off of her, she looked to Arn and handed the axe back to him.
”Do ye be knowing ‘The Axe of Honor’ or ‘When the Hammer Falls’” Arís asks excitedly.
Zalona looks disappointed.
Oh, just temporary. Nevermind then, sorry for the trouble.
She turns to Aris and says
Certainly. I know both of those, of course. Perhaps a mash-up?
She returns to the stage and, working with Nempura, first sings the Axe of Honor, and then turns it into a medley mixed with When the Hammer Falls as well as a few other Dwarven favorites.
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Arís can’t help but tap her mug to the beat of ‘When the Hammer Falls’ joining in on the fourth verse, loud and off key;
”♫ When the hammer falls,
Back our enemy crawls
When the hammer quakes,
Orcish cowards’ bones will break,
When the hammer cracks,
And it beats their armies back,
When the hammer’s boom,
Sends the monsters to their doom,
When the hammer falls,
When the hammer falls! ♪”
She smashes her mug down with enthusiasm when the song is over, raising her mug in salute as she shouts to the bards ”That be a proper rendition! Please come join us for a drink.”
When the Hammer Falls - Clamavi De Profundis (Original Song)
When her set is over, she thanks Nampura for joining her, then starts the clapping for the local bard who is finishing out the night.
After exiting the stage, she accepts the dwarf's gracious offer and goes over to sit at her table.
To Aris she says
Thanks for the offer, although I just want some juice. I can't drink like a dwarf.
She grins.
Name's Zalona.
After they get introduced officially, she turns to Helgar and explains
I was asking about the bow earlier because my father has a famous one from one of his adventures, but it's broken. It's been hanging over the hearth my whole life. I guess it had magic in it at some point, and I always heard the stories and wondered what it would be like to have a bow like that... so I'm always interested in people who can enchant. I realize I might have sounded critical, but I think your talent is amazing. It just wasn't exactly what I'd been hoping.
Having covered the bases, she asks
So what brings you here?
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Arís laughs heartily at Zalona’s request for juice, the ale she is drinking almost spewing out of her mouth. Of course that’s what an elf lass would order. She probably only eats salads too, Arís thinks as she hastily gulps from her mug.
She replies to the women, ”Hail and well met, may ye mines never run dry.” The dwarf lowers her voice and looks around suspiciously before she continues, ”As to our business… well.. you could be saying we are on the lookout for adventure. As a matter of fact I was just about to be telling me new friends here about a rumor I be hearing.”
Arís looks around the table trying to gage their interest before she continues.
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Zalona gets her juice and leans forward expectantly. Maybe it would just be another dwarven pun rather than a real adventure, but might as well play along, either way.
While Dwarven songs weren't her specialty, it certainly helps to have Zalona there. The two are able to work off each other and rouse the crowd even more. As both songs end, she claps in triumph as the dwarves seem to respect the performance. Upon the offer of joining, she will nod, but instead of going to the table directly, she will head to the owner for her cut of pay.
Call her cynical, but she believes in coin first. While the food and drink may be free to her for her performance, the pay will keep her afloat and keep arrows in her quiver and jobs that pay far better on the horizon. It won't take long, but eventually, she will head over to the dwarves' table.
"Rumors?" she asks excitedly, "I love rumors." "Particularly from stout adventurers like these, clearly..."
The bard takes a seat where she was waved to and reaches up to feel if her hair is still all firm and together after her dancing and activities. She will readily accept an ale at this point.
Helgar's response to Zalona died as Aris took center stage. The lowered voice and suspicious look drew Helgar in. "Aye..? Do tell." She said, clearly interested.
Aila sees more people coming in; “Looks like a few ships have docked from all the strangers…” she pauses and looks embarrassed; “No disrespect… meant” without waiting for much of a response she gets up “Let me put your order in.” as quick as she sat down, she was off.
Aila leaves the table with the human male and points to the two of you as she walks by; “More ale? Oh keep em comin’ sure thing!” as she continues to the bar.
As Helgar makes her way to the bar she sees a tall (6.5 ft) middle aged man behind the counter eyeing up her armor and weapon. From the looks of his build, he too has seen some battle… though it might have been a few years, and ales, ago. He gives her a light nod in response to her ale request. When he overhears the dwarfs comment to the other two dwarfs of “Anything in particular worth drinking” he stops the pull from the keg. “Well what’s it that you are looking for missy? A good dwarven stout? Haven’t had any of that come through here in a good while, let me hurry to the back and see if there’s somethin’ back there that might be worthy of ‘the Forge Father’” with a slight chuckle he makes his way through a door behind the counter.
Noticing the exchange, the barmaid places a calming hand on Helgars shoulder. “Don’t mind Einar, his bark is worse than the bite.” noticing the start of a conversation between the dwarfs, “I’m Aila, I’ll make sure your food and drink make it to you.” She makes her way behind the bar and walks through the door. “EINAR!!! You can’t just…”
As the music begins to get lively some of the people in the tavern begin to come out and dance. Over the next several hours the people of the tavern are having a grand time. The ale continues to flow from behind the counter. People begin making request and leaving coin on the stage when the request is met. You also catch a satisfied smile from Einar, the owner of the Orc’s Head Tavern. Happy patrons, means drinking patrons, means more coin for the musicians.
Aila makes her way back to Rhaedlaf; “Here ya go hun, meal and an ale.” nodding towards the musicians and the people dancing; “Looks like it’s going to be a fun night. Don’t spend it all sitting in the corner over here all by yourself.” She gives you a wink any a playful smile; “Anything else I can get you?”
Einar makes his way around the counter with a small keg under one of his burley arms and four mugs clasped in the opposite hand. He pulls up a chair and puts the keg in the center of the table. He quietly begins to fill the four mugs with an auburn-colored ale. Placing a mug in front of each of the dwarfs, he takes a pull from the fourth mug and with a satisfied “ahh.” “Now this one, is one that you might find worth drinking.” he waits for the three of you to take a drink.
A rich aroma of fruit, toffee, nuts, and caramel paves the way to a burst of the best flavors that a malt cab offer. Dried fruit and nutty chocolate, with a silky mouthfeel.
With pride Einar continues; “That is a fine barleywine my dwarven friends. Not a stout, but strong and tasty.”
Arn admires Helgar's work when Arís shouts her request, he exuberance drawing a chuckle from the paladin. "'Ell it may not be permanent but tis fine work, I be sure you'll be makin wonders that grab the attention of all creation in no time," Arn tells Helgar before joining Arís in the song.
Arn takes a swig of the barleywine, "Now dats a proper drink!
Arís rubs her hands together while she speaks, ”What I be sharing is a bit o’ rumor and a bit of guessing on me part.” Gaining confidence her words become more sure, ”You might not be knowing …” Startled she abruptly stops as Einar places the keg and mugs on the table.
The dwarf skeptically eyes the liquid in her mug, ”I’ll be the judge of that good master.” Arís takes a large swallow of the proffered drink and a pleasant looks takes over her face. She gives the highest compliment she can think of, ”by me mother’s beard that’s good.” Curious she asks, ”You wouldn’t be of a mind to be sharing the recipe?
Sitting closer to Nempura, it is easy to tell she does not have that strong sense of body odor that some people have from the road. She smells nice. Very nice. Not like one of those wealthy sorts who buy perfumes to mask their offense, but as someone who truly cleans and cares for themselves. All scents on her are quite natural.
There is a faint smoky aroma of shea butter coming from her hair with a hint of cinnamon coming from her clean, white teeth. Faint wafts of oatmeal and almond scent come from her swarthy skin. All very mild in potency. All in a balanced and well thought out harmony, to where those near her may take in a deep breath and feel refreshed instead of offended.
"I wonder what other secrets you have back there, Einar..." she jokes with a sly smile and squinted judging eyes. Her first task in entering any bar, inn, or tavern is to learn the bartenders' names. The second is the staff, and then finally she explores those in the tavern. No doubt, over the course of the last couple of days since she's been there, poor Einar has had numerous questions asked by the white-haired youth. It is why she knows a bit more about the city than the average traveler who barrels through the place. There is an audible grumble in her stomach and at that, she signals the ever-busy Aila from across the room and Nempura points to her own mouth to symbolize her desire to eat.
Looks like the first song was not great, but after she warmed up, she did well.
Wondering if Aris actually has something to say or if she is drawing this out on purpose, Zalona goes up to the bar and orders something to eat.
Coming back she says
Aris, come on, what's the rumor? Are you just playing with us, or do you know something?
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”Alright, alright of course I be having something to say, Arís affirms sheepishly. The dwarf takes another long gulp of the barley wine before continuing.
”Now, Master Einar since we be having your ear we be a wondering what rumors you be hearing or point us in the right direction. Specifically in regards to earning some coin for more adventurous sorts like our selves. But hear what I was about to suggest to this group first”
Arís looks back at her table mates”Like I be saying earlier we all be on the lookout for a bit o’ coin or a bit o’ adventure. I be thinking there might be an opportunity for the industrious sort in exploring the caves and caverns under the Castle.” She concludes triumphantly, ”Me, Arn, and Helgar can be handling the dangerous stuff while you two,” pointing at the bards, ”use that singing magic of yours, cheer us on, and be singing about it for next 200 years.”
With her usual dour expression the dwarf looks around the table expectantly for a response and notices, for the first time, Nempura’s lack of body odor, she smells prettier than an elf’s fart. Arís surreptitiously sniffs her own armpit concluding, there be nothing wrong with the smell of hard work.
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Caves... I mean, that sounds like a lot of trouble for little reward, honestly. Lots of bat guano and short creatures who like the dark ... um, no offense to those present, of course.
However, I'm willing to go. Perhaps if the system reaches under the castle there will be an old smuggler's stash or something interesting. And if my job is just to cheer you on, even better... although I am not without some skill in other areas, should we need it.
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Caves, wouldn’t be much trouble for hardy folk. Plus it be better then traipsing across the countryside,” Arís states matter of factly.
Curious she asks Zalona, ”Other skills… like what… poetry?”
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The cleric paused, as she looked up at Zalona. The bard spoke easily, of course. But there was something in her eyes. A look that reminded Helgar of sadness or regret. The kind of look that some of the older warriors in her Hold had when the drinking stopped and all with free hearts were already asleep. She looked away, conscious that Zalona's 'other skills' likely involved more than signing in taverns. So far the bard had spoken of a bow that once carried an enchantment and sounded familiar with smuggler stashes. But most of all, it convinced Helgar that the elf didn't need anyone standing up for her. And besides. She was just happy to have been included with Aris and Arn in 'handling the dangerous stuff.'
She took a sip of the barleywine to hide her smile and then gently put the mug down. All too often her people never left home, and drank the same drinks from cradle to grave. This was different. But it was good. It was a collection of armoas and flavors that only a human would think of. And it made her feel shamed for her earlier disparaging remarks. Turning to Einar she said "This is a credit to the Clan that brewed it."
With the ask of how to brew the barleywine he lets out a good belly laugh; "Oh my dwarf friend, that is not possible. But you can drink it here as often as you find safety in Languard's ports."
Einar gives his whiskered face a scratch then takes a slow drink from his mug. “Bein in the business that I am in, I hear my good share of rumors. Some true, some not.” Lowering his voice to the table, Einar uses the other musicians to help prevent those not at the table from hearing him. “A year ago a merchant sent a ship to the southern waters of the Coral Sea. It’s a bit of a journey. Rumors of exotic goods and ancient items… but it never make it home to Languard.” Looking around as he takes another drink; “It seems the merchant is wanting to find her ship. God’s favor shines on you as the captain and first mate are in the private meeting room discussing a crew.”
Refilling his now empty mug, and doing the same for the others; “I know the captain, we have a history of exploration. He uses the Orc’s Head as a refuge and he knows I have a keen eye for skilled man… and dwarf alike.” Sitting back in his chair; “I know no more than that, but I can introduce you to him.”
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At Aris' comment, Zalona chuckles
Why yes, I am very good at poetry as a matter of fact. Should you ever be in need of getting someone to fall in love with you, rely on me. I will craft the loveliest, most romantic poem you have ever dreamed of.
But no, I was actually referring to my profession outside of the tavern. I am a very competent locksmith, in fact, and am not unskilled at the bow, though mine is unfortunately non-magical.
But magic I have. In fact, If someone would loan me a hat, I am certain that I can pull a rabbit from it.
___
When Einar speaks, she says
I also have a great breadth of knowledge, being an old and wise elf of course, and could likely assist you in recovering "exotic goods and ancient items" as well.
She grins, hoping they will get to do both.
Aila makes her way back to Rhaedlaf; “Here ya go hun, meal and an ale.” nodding towards the musicians and the people dancing; “Looks like it’s going to be a fun night. Don’t spend it all sitting in the corner over here all by yourself.” She gives you a wink any a playful smile; “Anything else I can get you?”
His eyes taking in the friendly commotion at the dwarves' table, Rhaedlaf glances at Aila and winks back, "Mayhaps a bit of what they're having, if it's not too much trouble?"
....
Finding himself intrigued by the verbal antics as well as finding himself in a rather good mood from the excellent music, Rhaed rises, takes hold of his staff, and steps over to the table where Einar is holding court. "A thousand pardons, friends, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation...not that you were really trying to keep it hush-hush..." the magic-user chuckles good-naturedly, momentarily holding up a finger to his lips in a shhh-ing motion.
"I admit, I have been unapologetically eavesdropping on what is obviously a good time, when I detected something of the possibility of an interesting enterprise. And frankly, I simply love enterprises, especially ones that might include things like exotic items and ancient items."
The wizard nods his head at the group and adds, "My name is Rhaedlaf of Grendon, and I am by profession a Magister. Perhaps you have heard of me?" His expression leaves no doubt that he does not expect any one to know his reputation. He motions towards the table,"Might I join you? Or were you, perhaps, about to move somewhere a bit more amendable to quiet conversation, and if so, might I tag along?"
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Arís leans in close while Einar shares his information, ”I be thinking an introduction with this captain would be welcome.” She looks to her table mates for affirmation.
The dwarf listens to Zalona with rapt attention, ” I be thinking you’d have better results turning me into an axe or a hammer… or even a big bucket o’ ale over a poem to catch a dwarven man’s fancy.” She pulls on her braid and asks, ”do ye be knowing any battle magic or is it just rabbits and such?”
The dwarf eyes the man suspiciously as he introduces himself. She considers his words and sees an opportunity and offers, ”Have a seat. A mage ye say do you be knowing any useful spells or is it rabbits and such with you too.”
Nempura beams a smile at Aris, almost communicating that she is right on course at her assumptions that both her words are magical and that she would not be engaging in physical acts. While the others engage, she merely takes long, enjoyed sips of her ale.
"Adventure? I'm always interested in that!" she interjects briefly. She then listens to her fellow bard and chuckles to herself as she does not wish to go into a cave. At least the elf had low-light vision!
Einar relays his information. She brushes her cheek lightly with a finger in thought. "A merchant ship's goods will likely be all rotten, but where there are goods, there is coin."
She is about to accept the mission on her part when Rhaedlaf comes into the picture. At first, she assumes in her mind that it is just a fan coming up to say hello, but his unique approach interests her. To her, she knows none of them, and perhaps it is not wise to partner with people you don't know, but she is a bit naive in such ways.
"Of course! Why not, but if there are no more places on the boat, I take your place." She looks briefly to the others and nods to Einar.
"If this captain is so eager for a crew, it seems like he's got part of one, as functional or dysfunctional as may be. I hope he likes a good song to travel by. This isn't a trap or something is it?" she asks suspiciously. Her bruised rib still bothers her from being kicked in the chest earlier that day. With her luck, she'd end up traded into slavery or something of that like.