Iron Kingdoms (Inactive)

Game Master Daniel Stewart

Ok you can dot in here

Thank you

Thanks!!

Erryll is extremely excited about heading to the Order of Wizardy lodge in Corvis. Like a dream come true for him, the payoff for all the hard work, the payback for every arcane bolt sent up a bandit's arse ...
He found the fares
He bought a ticket
and he went to twist the arm of his hot-piece/wing-person Kita.

"Come with me! It'll be fun! Can you even imagine seeing the countryside without needing to shoot at anyone!?"

Kita rocks her uncomfortable chair back on two legs, leaning against the wall, and sighs. She is alone in the Warder's office waiting room, has been all afternoon, except for the clerk, a middle-aged gobber called Gek. Looks like another day without work. The good news is that she could head off to the pub soon. The bad news is that she can only afford a few more days of this.

Erryll bursts into the room, bright-eyed with excitement. Rolling her eyes, Kita says, "Hard pass. Why would I want to go to Corvis? Ain't no caravans need guardin' in the city. And you say 'without needing to shoot anyone' like it's a good thing. Sounds boring. But you have fun." To be honest, she'll miss the Iosan mage. He was handy in a fight, and knew how to have fun after a job. But Corvis was ... well...it wasn't here.

Erryll flashed the smile he knew she loved ... was almost like a rune spark appeared in his eye too

"Come on little country mouse ... the city would be good for you. Always plenty of rich folk that need security for something. Wouldn't it be nice to take shorter jobs, have more evenings off? Real food choices? Raise a glass or two or three?" He made a rather sweeping motion as though raising a tankard. "Imagine if all three were different ales!? CIVILIZATION!"

Menoth's balls, but he could be charming when he wanted something. Feeling herself waver, Kita pretended outrage. "Country MOUSE?" She threw her book at him, a tatty romance that had been on her chair when she arrived here two days ago. He danced aside, but her aim was good and she clipped him in the hip. "Anyhow, can't pay for the ticket. I'm almost down to my tithe-money." She'd been meaning to drop the purse with her 20% off at the church, but it had been too hot to wander about today. She'd do it this evening.

Menoth's balls, but he could be charming when he wanted something. Feeling herself waver, Kita pretended outrage. "Country MOUSE?" She threw her book at him, a tatty romance that had been on her chair when she arrived here two days ago. He danced aside, but her aim was good and she clipped him in the hip. "Anyhow, can't pay for the ticket. I'm almost down to my tithe-money." She'd been meaning to drop the purse with her 20% off at the church, but it had been too hot to wander about today. She'd do it this evening.

He laughs as he catches the book ... and then looks at it

"THIS very train could be IT! This could be where you meet THE ONE! Let's be real, you know the gods don't actually count each coin ... right? Like you could make a catch-up donation with the church in Corvis."

Pulling out the brochure that he got with his ticket, Erryll pointed to the picture of the "refreshments carriage" "It says here they've got an open bar. And it's a two-day ride. Let's be honest, you are, well, you are you: with an open bar and 48 hours, you could be halfway married by the time we get there."

Kita snorted a most unladylike laugh. "Ha! Can you picture it? Me, till death do you part?" Marriage was most definitely not in her future. But then Erryll's other words penetrated her brain.

"Open bar?" She did some quick math...48 hours of drinking, divided by the cost of the ticket....that was actually pretty good value. And if Erryll was right about there being work in Corvis, she could probably make back her tithe money, plus more, in no time.

She let her chair plonk back down onto all 4 legs, stood, and grabbed her bag. "Shoulda led with that, dummy." She waved to the clerk, "See ya Gek, I'm heading to Corvis if folks are lookin' for me." The gobber waved a hand in acknowledgement without looking up. Linking her arm through Erryll's, Kita asked, "So, where's the station?"

She buys her ticket, feeling a large twinge of guilt as she hands over half her tithe-money to the agent. Chewing on her lip, hoping she wasn't making a big mistake, Kita turns around, only to slam faced-first into a solid wall of muscle.

Hands the size of serving plates grab her shoulders to steady her, then slowly peel her backwards off his body. She look up, way up, to find that she recognizes this particular brand of meat-wall.

"Agnar! Menoth's beard, it really is you." She smiles at the ogrun, and his tusked face splits into a grin of recognition.

Turning to Erryll (who had taken a cowardly step backwards), Kita says, "Erryll Revyan, make the acquintance of Agnar Valbrandr. He's the one I told you 'bout, the gunmage-turned-goose. Agnar, this is Erryll, another caravan guard veteran and drinking buddy." She catches Erryll's raised eyebrow and shrugs one shoulder - Ain't like I'm gonna go into detail of our relationship with the big lunk, is it?

Taking another step back so she could look him in the face without getting a crick in her neck, she says, "What brings you way out here? Wind still blowing you around? We're heading to Corvis - any chance you gonna be on our train?"

Dont delay on my account

AND THE STORY BEGINS

The old man sat in his chair, comfortable beside the fireplace, the banked logs casting a dull, ruddy light over the surrounding people. The tavern was quiet as the patrons all waited for the storyteller to begin his tale.

” Back then, our heroes did not know that they were going to be heroes at all! They were, for the most part, just regular people trying to get their lives back together after the Battle of Henge Hold and the end of The Claiming. It was in the early spring of 617AR that the individual members first found themselves thrown together. It was on a train traveling from Cygnar to Corvis. Back then the rail had not made it to the City of Ghosts, so our unknowing heroes found themselves at….”

The Rail Head! You knew that the train would not be going all the way to Corvis, but you had thought it might be a little closer. From here the rail line headed off into the marshy forest of Widower’s Wood. A new path had been carved through the wilderness to reach the Blackriver Road which linked Corvis with Bainsmarket and Stonebridge. It was still three days to get to the city, and the weather did not look like it would be agreeable. The Rail Head was a depot of equipment meant for the completion of the railway, but with The Claiming and the chaos after, construction had just resumed. Old huts and storage sheds litter the area, as well as rusty rails and piles of cut logs. Several people work the site, moving material, fixing up the buildings and generally getting ready for the larger work gangs that were to arrive later this spring. The only building that seems to be “open” is some sort of tavern and general store in one. As you stand beside the mighty locomotive, it starts to rain.

Kita stood on the "platform", her head pounding. Her hat, a faded brown cattleman that was a little too big for her head, began to drip with water. She folded up the collar of her duster and hitched her bag up higher, so her rifle butt would be protected under the brim of her hat.

"This ain't Corvis," she said, glaring at Erryll accusingly. While the train ride had been fun, the last few hours had started to feel long. She had been looking forward to finding a place to sleep. The few hours kip she'd scored in the handsome mechanik's berth had been too long ago.

A gust of wind swirled the rain, splashing her face. Clutching the collar of her duster tighter around her throat, she began to wonder if she should have looked into the climate of northern Cygnar before agreeing to this trip.

Smacking Erryll in the abs with the back of her hand, none-too-gently, she motioned to the only building that might be open for business. "Come on, let's get outta the rain and see if they got anything to drink."

Did you know there are 8 different kinds of cowboy hats?

Nevitash picks up his pack and pulls his coat tighter around him as he heads out into the rain. The large armored Ogren looks around and says, "Well, this may not be a fun three day march."

The Ogren quickly decides that the tavern seemed like a good place to be for now and starts heading that way following behind several other passengers that exited the train and were already heading to the tavern.

Buddy is not with me yet correct?

@Nev: Correct...not...quite...yet :-)

Only a total of 10 other passengers exited the train and most are slowly making their way down the path to the road.

As the rain increases in tempo, most of the workers also disappear...heading for the numerous huts and sheds scattered about the place.

Rosaleen was in quite a good mood as she had to disembark the train. She had managed to copy down the formula she was hoping to find while the owner was getting his drink on in the dining car. She subconsciously patted her gear where she kept her formulae book to reassure her of its presence. She knew she didn't quite understand all the components of the new formula yet but given some research and a little trial and error, she knew she'd figure it out.

The rain did a lot to dampen her mood. The thought of walking in the rain was not desirable at all. So she joined the stream of others making a beeline for the nearest dry place.

Kita stood on the "platform", her head pounding. Her hat, a faded brown cattleman that was a little too big for her head, began to drip with water. She folded up the collar of her duster and hitched her bag up higher, so her rifle butt would be protected under the brim of her hat.

"This ain't Corvis," she said, glaring at Erryll accusingly. While the train ride had been fun, the last few hours had started to feel long. She had been looking forward to finding a place to sleep. The few hours kip she'd scored in the handsome mechanik's berth had been too long ago.

A gust of wind swirled the rain, splashing her face. Clutching the collar of her duster tighter around her throat, she began to wonder if she should have looked into the climate of northern Cygnar before agreeing to this trip.

Smacking Erryll in the abs with the back of her hand, none-too-gently, she motioned to the only building that might be open for business. "Come on, let's get outta the rain and see if they got anything to drink."

Did you know there are 8 different kinds of cowboy hats?

Life-math presented itself as difficult at times; this was one of those times. Anyone could tell you, your drinking budget should be maintained in an inverse relationship to your food budget ... and they shouldn't have a lot of overlap either. The rail passage had been perfectly balanced but arriving just about no where with a fading buzz had NOT been the plan. Having 'saved' himself for a touch of play-time with the cute little server, Erryll took ownership of the buzz fade too: this was on him. The nap afterwards had been nice though.

"I want to hope we can do better than "anything" to drink but something tells me the odds are not ever in our favor. Maybe you should pray Kita ..."

Maybe you should pray Kita ..."

Kita stopped in her tracks, hearing what the ogrun said. Dropping back a few paces, she looked up at the armored ogrun and demanded, "Three days?! Did you say a three day march?"

She caught up to Erryll and punched him in the shoulder. "Did you know about this? I'm assuming you read the small print, Mr. Big Brains? This ain't, Oh, it's gonna be fun, Kita. This is, you better pray they got good coffee in there, or you might not live to see Corvis."

Turning to the only other woman heading to the tavern, Kita said, "Am I the only one who got hornswaggled? Did you know the tracks ain't finished yet?"

Chatting and arguing as they enter the building, the group notices that the place has a number of people already within. These are not the folks that were on the train, but rather a number of labours from the construction site. They quietly look the group up and down before continuing with their quiet conversations.

The interior of this building reflects much of what you saw outside. Various crates, boxes and other containers make up the decore within. A number of planks sit upon a couple of metal barrels to make the bar. Several pony kegs are piled up behind this barrier with one taped on the "bar". In front of you as you walked in are several rickety shelves holding everything from rope and pullies, to a variety of 'jack parts.

As you are taking this all in, a burly dwarf confronts you. He stands at about 4 1/2 feet and his bald head gleams with sweat. His muscular body is covered with many tattoos and you can see his muscles bunch in his arms and chest, as he is not wearing a shirt.

"Are ya gonna stand thar all day or come on in? Yer letting the cold and wet in!" he snarls at the group.

"Am I the only one who got hornswaggled? Did you know the tracks ain't finished yet?"

Rosaleen gave a small smile. Horswaggled Some of the words that others used were so colourful and adorable.

"I wasn't aware but it also doesn't matter to me. It's not like I'm on a schedule or anything. I'll get where I'm going eventually whether by foot or some other means." Rosaleen studied her new acquaintance, taking in the many details, "I like your hat."

"Are ya gonna stand thar all day or come on in? Yer letting the cold and wet in!" he snarls at the group.

Rosaleen quickly shut the door behind her as the dwarf barks at them. "In!"

"I wasn't aware but it also doesn't matter to me. It's not like I'm on a schedule or anything. I'll get where I'm going eventually whether by foot or some other means." Rosaleen studied her new acquaintance, taking in the many details, "I like your hat."

"Thanks!" Kita brightened visibly at the compliment. "I like your haircut. I had one like that once, when I was a youngster, but it was from sleeping with gum in my mouth. Didn't look so nice as yours."

Sticking her hand out for a handshake, she said, "I'm Kita. Kita Samadrah. And that handsome jackass up there is my former friend, Erryll."

"I'm sure we will ALL feel better once we have some ... fermented goat piss or whatever they have here. We just need a couple drinks and the rain to end. 3 days is probably the estimate for old people."

Nevitash follows the talkative group in and wipes the rain off his face before saying, "I have not made the trip before, but that was what I was told when I planned this trip."

"Thanks!" Kita brightened visibly at the compliment. "I like your haircut. I had one like that once, when I was a youngster, but it was from sleeping with gum in my mouth. Didn't look so nice as yours."

Sticking her hand out for a handshake, she said, "I'm Kita. Kita Samadrah. And that handsome jackass up there is my former friend, Erryll."

Rosaleen wasn't a fan of shaking hands since she never knew the last time someone's hands were washed but she didn't want to be rude. After a breath or two she reached out and shook the offered hand, "Nice to meet you Kita. My name is Rosaleen di Henryn." Continuing to hold her hand, the young woman looked past Kita to the one she called Erryll. "I guess being a handsome jackass is better than being an ugly one."

She released Kita's hand and pulled her heavy leather cloak tighter around herself, "I guess we're all heading inside then?"

-----

Once inside with the door securely closed on the dwarf's orders, Rosaleen weaved her way around tables to find one large enough for everyone as they had also attracted a few more making their way out of the rain. Plunking herself into a chair, she proceeded to check her gear and make sure nothing was ruined by the rain before ordering a drink.

Oh confound, have we started? I dotted last week but didn't see any updates. Oh bother!

Agnar was lost in his thoughts. Shock, really. Lots and lots of shock. His parting from the Greylord institute had been...mixed. Sure enough some people, the right people, fortunately, had bought his request for academic sabbatical. It was a common enough habit among all ranks to take some time to expand one's learning unburdened by daily duties. And without the stipend, one must needs had to learn how to get on with one's self, with self-sufficient habits that would always pay dividends.

He...didn't really tell them he never meant to return. A few suspected, though, and it took some cunning half-truths more than one verbal misdirection to avoid The Fetters.

He was shuttering at one particular story he had heard about The Fetters when Kita, who had the honorable title of being his Catalyst, whether she wanted it or not. No great honor, knowing what catalysts are, and he doubted she cared, such was the person she seemed. Still, it took him awhile for his internal charm to eventually grab the reigns of thought back from Fetterland.

Fortunately he thought of something witty to say. "Uh, I am, um, well."

Nailed it.

"Life-math, my good Erryll," he said, as though they were friends, even though he'd just learned his name just now in passing, "can be deceptive. What about doppelbock? It is a hearty drink produced in certain lands, and not only does it have significant sums of minerals and protein, but also a kick that could, so I hear, drop a mule.

In theory one could get on with only that, and have their drinking budget now equal their eating budget. Paradox!"

At the mention of goats from Erryll, he gave his bag a furtive glance. It did smell like goat, but not in the weird way.

"I think three days march might be fun," he said, trying to get a lighter take on the looming march. "Out in the open, the fresh air, getting ahead of anyone that might be tailing us--not that that would happen, I'm just saying. Hypothetically.

And even if it does rain, I find hardship to be quite purging. Especially useful if one is leaving behind a past."

And even if it does rain, I find hardship to be quite purging. Especially useful if one is leaving behind a past.

Kita rolled her eyes. "Who ain't leavin' behind a past, Agnar? That's what the past is." Turning to Rosaleen, she said, "Big on philosophy, this one is."

Once inside, she followed Rosaleen to a table. Despite Erryll's desire to keep the drinking spree going, Kita asked if they served coffee. "The stronger the better." She explained, "If we got a 3 day trip comin up, that's the same as a job. Better face it sober." She knew from hard experience that it was better to sober up in a warm room with a hot coffee, and not on the road in the rain. Turning back to Erryll, she said, "Can I borrow coffee money? I ain't got two coppers to rub together."

As the second ogrun - the armoured one - joined them at the table, Kita asked, "What's your name, big friend? I'm Kita, and here we have Rosaleen, Erryll, and Agnar."

Nevitash sits at the table with the group that got off the train and says, "I am Nevitash. A pleasure to meet you all. Do you have business in Corvis? I can cover the first round of drinks." Nevitash will pay for a round of whatever drinks the group goes with. Nevitash himself sticks to tea.

The dwarf has followed the group into the bar side of his establishment. In a loud voice he calls out.

"Oi..look what the train brought us boys! Some southern dandies and their 'fancy' ladies...and they are wanting coffee ta drink!"

The dwarf's face hardens as he replies to the coffee request.

"We don't drink that stuff here...whatda we have boys?", he yells to the crowd of regulars.

"WHISKEY!", they all call back.

The dwarf looks over the new comers and waits to see how they react.

Nevitash looks at the dwarf and wonders if he is really being honest about having such a small selection. He decides to play a long for a bit as he considers getting some whiskey to ward away the cold and asks, "Who makes your whiskey?"

Insight: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

As Agnar moves in with the others, he notices the other Orgun. He suspected the other was not overly tribal, and most of the Ogrun he had met in hte city had mostly left the dogmatic ways behind, but without knowing him, he decided to get off on the right foot.

"Ich sehe Sie, mein Bruder Nevitash," he says as Nevitash offers to get the first round of drinks. "Das ist eine schöne Warcaster-Rüstung, die Sie haben. Du trägst es gut und bringst deinem Stamm Ehre.

Ich hatte nie das Talent für gepanzerte Kriegsführung. Im Moment bin ich es...."

Agnar pauses. I am...what? A deserter of the GreyLords? A wayward soul with a point of departure I do not care for and an unknown future? I am....

But then a word came to him. A word in his own tongue that encompassed warriors without a master that fought for gold. A word that meant more than merely mercenary, more than just a warrior for hire.

He looked down at his dark leather armor, his great armored coat. His trio of pistols jutting out in quick-draw angles.

"Ich bin ein Nacht Spaziergänger."

Shadowrunner.

As the dwarf stood up and began an ancient phalic-symbol ritual, Agnar's gun-hand twitched, wishing to handle this in the Final way. But that was not his way. Not...not anymore.

Oh yes, he could do that, but he did not want to. He had other gifts. Gifts the other Order did not need or wish. But he felt it was his path, his future, to use them. Is not this way better?

Agnar had been quite dour until this moment. Thinking on his past and the uncertain future had him in a sour mood. But he did not need that now.

Between the moments when he was sitting down until to when he is standing up it is like a different person occupied his clothes. Suddenly he is beaming. His arms are brought up as if to give the whole room a big, warm hug. His gaze sweeps the room, but somehow it's as if he spends enough time to look everyone straight in the eye, and wink at them, as if sharing a private joke only they two can enjoy.

"Ha! Welcome my friend dwarf! What a warm, soft welcome you have given us! And we thank you for it!

My gratitude to you!"

He says all of this without a hint of irony, as if this is not a moment of hostility, but merely misunderstanding. And isn't that what the dwarf was saying? It certainly seemed so.

And now the tables were turned. Would the dwarf re-neg on all the spirit he had raised in the room, now that he found it turned upon himself? Or would he reach in deep now that someone called his bluff? Whatever happened, there might be violence later, but that, well, was later.

Persuasion!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

"Oi..look what the train brought us boys! Some southern dandies and their 'fancy' ladies...and they are wanting coffee ta drink!"

Kita snorted indelicately as she looked over the motley crew at the table. Two ogrun, I assume Mohammad is with us, a human bristling with weapons, a woman with a half-shaved head dressed in well-worn protective leathers, and herself. "Well, Erryll, yeah, fair enough. But if they think we count as fancy ladies, they must be really hard up for women around here."

"My gratitude to you!"

Kita turned her eyes on Agnar with newfound admiration. The big lunk has a silver tongue! Her voice soft, she said, "Well played, leaf-on-the-wind!

The dwarven landlord turns a bright red and looks about ready to explode, but when the other patrons of the bar start hooting and cheering the Ogrun's humorous banter, the Rhulic Dwarf swears quietly to himself and slinks back behind the "bar".

Once behind the plank and barrel structure, the dwarf looks at Nevitash and answers the other Ogrun's question.

"Trogun Black", the bartender grumbles as he reaches under the plank to retrieve a glass bottle.

Make an Intelligence of Charisma roll - DC-15 to have heard of this particular brand of whiskey

Intelligence: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Nevitash grunts and says, "Hmm...I can't say I have heard of it. Oh well, a round for everyone at the table. A single shot should not make the hike much better or worse. Nevitash pulls out some coins to pay for the whiskey.

How much does a shot cost?

Agnar grins and sits back down, a warm smile on his face. He knows he's won, and avoided bloodshed to boot! He feels something shift within him and he is pleased with it.

Nevitash grunts and says, "Hmm...I can't say I have heard of it. Oh well, a round for everyone at the table. A single shot should not make the hike much better or worse. Nevitash pulls out some coins to pay for the whiskey.

As Agnar sees Nevitash pull out coin, he leans over and speaks to Nevitash in their native tongue of Molgur-Og, which is something all Ogrun, such as himself and Nevitash, speak:

"Nein nein nein, mein Bruder. Lass den Zwerg sich ärgern und den Scheck einlösen, den sein Mund ausgestellt hat. Er hat uns gekränkt, und wenn er dabei nur eine gute Flasche verliert, dann profitieren wir alle, auch er.

Ich denke, er bekommt diese Flasche kostenlos für uns zum Einschenken, denn sonst würde er vor seinen Stammkunden das Gesicht verlieren. Lege deine Münze weg und lass ihn Weisheit erlangen."

Charisma!: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

"I too have not heard of it, but I doubt he'd give us the cheapest swill, for fear I'd give him another tongue lashing." He smiles and laughs.

Kita turned her eyes on Agnar with newfound admiration. The big lunk has a silver tongue! Her voice soft, she said, "Well played, leaf-on-the-wind!

Agnar beams at the compliment, and he seems very different from the confused and duck-focused flotsam he had been at their first meeting. He raises an imaginary glass in salute and recognition.

"My thanks, Kita The Fanciest Of The Fancy Ladies!" He knocks back his imaginary drink and tosses it over his shoulder. Then the smile runs from his face.

"Aye. Aye. A wit is not a welcome friend amongst those that take themselves too seriously. It was the most exquisite of tortures to have everything in life, from a long, cold watch to a superior's direct order beg BEG for no less than three jokes and at least one dirty limerick. But for utterance of any to bring, well, to bring more bad then it was worth. Many times I was denied..."

He brightens then, his eyes taking back the light they had so recently displayed, and for the first time he allows himself to give her a frank appraisal, and to look as a man should look at a woman.

"...the finer things in life." He gives a quick, enigmatic, smile.

"So when do our drinks get here?" he yells out at the room, wondering if the bartender will come through.

charisma for whisky detection: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Kita shrugged, "Never heard of it, but that's not surprising." She rarely had whisky money, it was usually ale money burning holes in her pockets. "I look forward to sampling the favorite drink of these good people here," she gestured to the regulars.Well, I ain't walking sober, I guess. But if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

"My thanks, Kita The Fanciest Of The Fancy Ladies!" He knocks back his imaginary drink and tosses it over his shoulder.

Kita laughed at Agnar's compliment. "Maybe not when we get to Corvis, but in this fine establishment, I believe I am the fanciest of the fancy ladies."

"...the finer things in life." He gives a quick, enigmatic, smile.

Kita felt a little heat rise in her cheeks, and gave Agnar a surprised, and pleased, appraisal. Silver tongue, indeed! Is he flirting with me? Might be an interesting three days. She smiled again, this time at herself. Erryll always teased her about thinking every kind word was a flirt. Time will tell.

"Isn't it funny how things translate!? Would be bad enough to call an elven girl a 'fancy lady' but it would truly suk fletching if her brother were around! Ha!"

Looking around ...

"Although, upon due consideration, Kita's point is well taken. They are hard pressed for fancy hereabouts."

The makeshift bar settles back down and your drinks are delivered to your table (1 silver shield for the whiskey, 1 copper farthing for coffee)
The whiskey is strong and rough. A single sip makes your skin feel flush and your stomach roil. The coffee is extremely weak and hardly has any flavour.

As the room settles once again into its small pools of conversation, your party settles in, and perhaps introductions are in order??

Could each of you give a physical description of yourselves in a few short sentences so we all have a good idea who is who and such :-)

Rosaleen's eyebrow cocked upwards at the mention of fancy ladies and Kita's declaration that she was the fanciest of the fancy ladies. Not that she had ever considered herself fancy. It was hard to be fancy while you handle chemicals that can put holes in your clothes or burn off your arm hair.

Randomly she rambled, "If master dwarf doesn't come back with the whiskey then I could probably synthesize some ethyl alcohol for consumption but if you go blind it's not my fault."

"Are you all going to Corvis? Maybe we can travel together. Safety in numbers and all that."

What time of day is it? Is there anything that passes for an inn in this place?

The makeshift bar settles back down and your drinks are delivered to your table (1 silver shield for the whiskey, 1 copper farthing for coffee)

The whiskey is strong and rough. A single sip makes your skin feel flush and your stomach roil. The coffee is extremely weak and hardly has any flavour.

As the room settles once again into its small pools of conversation, your party settles in, and perhaps introductions are in order??

Could each of you give a physical description of yourselves in a few short sentences so we all have a good idea who is who and such :-)

Erryll is a devilishly handsome young Iosan, about 23 years old, with amber eyes, beautifully bronze skin, and jet black hair. His most unusal characteristic, other than his runic tattoos, is his easy smile. Whatever your thoughts about elves might be, no one thinks they smile much. Erryll does.

IMAGE

Nevitash pays out the coins ignorning Agnar for the time being. He is a large Ogren wearing warcaster armor beneath an armored coat. Strapped to his side is a strange looking wrench. His armor and clothes are all neutral colors that show no allegiance in the ongoing wars. Beneath his helm his head is shaved.

"I am heading there to find work. I am traveling with Agner here, but any good company is appreciated." Nevitash says.

Nevitash looks at Agnar and says, "Was denkst du, Bruder? Glaubst du, dass die Menschen und die Elfen mithalten können?"

Kita hunches over her drink, sipping slowly. She is tall and lean, wearing jeans, a no-colour shirt, and a brown canvas duster. A gunbelt with two pistols sits on her hips, and a bullet bandolier crosses her chest. Around her neck she wears a bone pendant with the symbol of Menoth on it, worn smooth with frequent handling.

When she pushes her hat back off her head, you see an old burn or acid scar along her hairline, which caused the front patch of her dark hair to turn white. Her skin is tanned and weathered, making her look older than her 22 years.

She's put her backpack on the floor behind her, instinct making sure the butt of her rifle is within reach.

Would be bad enough to call an elven girl a 'fancy lady' but it would truly suk fletching if her brother were around! Ha!"

It took Kita a moment to puzzle out what Erryll was implying. "You mean a prostitute? Is that an insult to your folk? Ain't no shame in sex work, it's an honest living."

"Are you all going to Corvis? Maybe we can travel together. Safety in numbers and all that."

Kita thought a moment, then nodded. "She ain't wrong. Anybody know anything about the road ahead? Is there shelter along it? Is it patrolled?"

Nevitash looks at Agnar and says, "Was denkst du, Bruder? Glaubst du, dass die Menschen und die Elfen mithalten können?"

With a grin, Kita answered, "Keine Sorge, diese Kleinen werden mit dir mithalten."

Agnar had started to reply to his fellow Ogrun, "Die Kleine Volk kannst nicht--" when his brain was finally able to overcome it's surprise that it was hearing his native tongue but NOT from Nevitash.

"Ha!" he laughs, pointing out Kita to Nevitash. "You see? Always does there lay another surprise around the corner! This one, at least, we will not find lacking, methinks."

It took Kita a moment to puzzle out what Erryll was implying. "You mean a prostitute? Is that an insult to your folk? Ain't no shame in sex work, it's an honest living."

It then falls to him to try and decipher the latest exchange between the enigmatic Kita and her companion. Did she just state what their relationship was? Does make her a...? And then he is her....?

His eyes dart between Kita and Erryll as a cacophonous mix of emotions slide across his face, from confusion to curiosity and every stop between. 'So does than mean he makes all the financial arrangements as well as being her brother? Or were they jesting? And how would I ask? To be wrong on either account would only lay a social chasm from which one might never recover.'

It was clear he would need more drink to unravel this enigma and he started looking for the bartender again.

Erryll takes another look around the room

"Well it certainly doesn't look like anyone drinks enough OR has sex enough, so maybe we really should spend the evening 'working' - should we be walking around, introducing ourselves or something? Try to find a 'room' at the 'inn' maybe."

The day moves along, but the weather continues to be cool and wet. You sit at the small shack, trying to stay warm as cold drafts blow through the many gaps in the walls. At least the roof seems to be well made, as no leaks have sprung yet!!

It is slightly past noon and another wave of locals enters the building. Most simply ignore the group and get a bowl of some sort of hot potage the barman seems to have cooked up. It does not smell particularly tasty, but it does look hot and could take the edge off your hunger and cold.

When you inquire you discover it is free for the workmen, but would cost you a couple of farthings (2cp) for a bowl and thick slice of black bread. For another farthing, (1cp) a slice of salted pork can be added to the bread along with a mug of watery ale.

The workers come and go over the next hour, and once again it is quiet in the makeshift tavern.

Ok, shall we move on or would you like to hang out here? Up to you if you want more RP or to continue the trip..

"Well folks, it's lunchtime. Ich hab' gedacht wir sollten etwas essen, und dann sollten wir gehen. Sound good? I know, right? Me too, I'm buying."

Erryll goes over to find the dwarf


"Hi again: if you would, I think before we head off, all of us would like to have some of that stew along with bread and pork please. Oh, and for sure another shot, tbh honest I would like one now before I go sit down."

"Actually, sir, could I help you? It seems you are the only person working here; I have worked in a kitchen before and I could certainly bus the table while prepared things. I'm sure it will get us out of your way faster too."

Kita ate the bread and forced down some stew, but gave her piece of pork to Agnar. She didn't eat much any more; she was rarely hungry, but she knew she needed proper food.

Before the workers left back out into the rain, Kita asked some of them, "What's between here and Corvis? Is there anywhere to stay along the road, or will we be camping? Is the road patrolled, or wild?" She didn't care either way, but it was good to know what one was getting into.