"So ... the Inn firs', beyond the little matter of getting into the town um, through security and wha'no' ... and perhaps sell wha' we can for space in the common room will they have a common room? or ge' some work. And then a room?"
Hue fondled at the few objects they'd gathered that they might sell.
Hue sits down with the booty that Lidelse had scooped into the pack days ago. Sorting it out, he discovers that the majority of the coins and jewelry is in fact little more than shiny rubbish. He manages to sort through and find 15 gold pieces of a type he's never seen before, and 47 silver coins with a square hole in the middle.
The five jeweled weapons/book, however, appeared to be quite valuable. All looked to be made of silver and gold, with various colourful gemstones encrusted on them. He was no gemsmith, but he guessed that each one was worth at least a few hundred gold pieces.
***
You approach the city of Gracklestugh. As you get closer, you feel a hot breeze from the city, carrying the acrid smell of smoke and molten metal. An industrial smog sits over much of the city, preventing you from seeing too far into it. Countless fires burning across the city reflect in the black waters of the lake, making it look even eerier than usual. As you get closer, you can see that most of the fires are in hollowed out columns and stalagmites.
The docks are bustling, but Hemeth pilots Abby to a small, dilapidated pier. He ushers you off the boat, and wishes you good luck. "Thanks for saving my skin back in Sloobludop. Hope you find the surface."
You make your way into Darklake District. The streets are crowded, but you make your way easily within the burgeoning throng of merchants, buyers, and slaves. You aren't the only outsiders here - you spy drow, svirfneblin, derro, orcs and other races in the crowds. The shouting of many languages blends with the distant sound of hammering to create a constant, distracting din.
Hemeth's laugh caused Maddy's spirits to sink. She had been hoping for some money for the city because they'd need a place to stay and they'd also need some supplies. "I guess we'll have to find someone in the Darklake district to help us out."
A short time later, Maddy's eyes were as wide as saucers as Hue pulled a bunch of loot from her backpack. "How did that get in there? I guess we will be able to afford a place to stay after all."
"So ... the Inn firs', beyond the little matter of getting into the town um, through security and wha'no' ... and perhaps sell wha' we can for space in the common room will they have a common room? or ge' some work. And then a room
"That sounds good to me, but I would vote for a room just for us if we can afford it. I think I'd find it difficult to sleep among strangers."
***
Maddy's nose wrinkles in distaste as the smells of Gracklestugh reach her. She longed for the fresh air of the foothills and meadows back home. Her heart felt stabbed by home sickness and she fought back feelings of despair.
As they left the boat, Maddy said goodbye to Abby before giving her farewell to Hemeth. "You saved us as much as we saved you. Thanks for getting us this far."
Dawn, we don't want to draw unwelcome attention to you. Can you please make your light disappear until we get to the inn? I don't think this city is used to your kind of light.
Maddy then swung Stool up onto her shoulder before matching her stride to Jimjar. Through the Stool collective she unnecessarily warned, ::Everyone stay close to each other::
She then began to look around for a decent place to stay.
As they left the boat, Maddy said goodbye to Abby before giving her farewell to Hemeth. "You saved us as much as we saved you. Thanks for getting us this far."
Precious joined in Madison’s words with a solemn nod. Truth to tell, he had half-expected the dark dwarf to consider his debt paid the moment they had escaped death at the Kuo-Toa town, and to consider them to be accruing debt to him with every mile sailed since. That Hemet had not tried to sell them to the local authorities had come as a small surprise – the grudges between Hemet’s kind and Precious’ own ran deep, after all, and not without reason.
Maddy then swung Stool up onto her shoulder before matching her stride to Jimjar. Through the Stool collective she unnecessarily warned, ::Everyone stay close to each other::
::Ain’t gonna need to say that twice,:: Precious thought, his face set in a deep frown of suspicion and not little apprehension. ::Hemet mighta been a better sort than I coulda hoped, but druergar ain’t exactly known as the altruistic sort. We be strangers here, an’ not necessarily safe by any measure. They mighta have fought tooth an’ nail fer their freedom, but they retain a lotta o’ the lessons learned from watchin’ their tentacle-faced past masters.::
::Um, I think Maddy should hold the money::
Hue paused to wait for disagreement. He eaked out a painful suggestion, ::The artifac's migh'be valuable bu' maybe we only sell wha' we have to??? These are importan' to somebody. Selling them down here doesn' seem quite right::
As he followed Maddy, pushing to keep up with his short legs, he looked about the town. All smell of mold and loam was blotted out and that made him feel unsure. He must have been thinking it through because after some time walking, ::Bu' as my dear uncle's uncle was fond of saying, 'high ideals don' feed the chicks'::
Unless you run into someone who is interest in how high ideals work and pays you for being a research subject. which is a pretty unusual occurrance. She pauses as she wraps an improvised shawl around her face
This city likely deems itself tougher, their air quality can mess with us and we shouldnt broadcast that we are surfacers.
Ill go with pretending that I am totally-not-a-succubus. She smiles as her shadow stretches
Maddy added with a thought, ::I agree with your thinking, your ideals, whatever you call them - but right now, I would give anything to get back to the surface. That includes selling artifacts if needed...but I agree that we shouldn't sell them down here if we don't have to::
Kalanzar looks at the smoke-filled city in shock. He had never seen a big city before, much less ONE like THIS. Nevertheless, he gathers his thoughts. Let's sell everything we don't need, rent a room and search for caravans to the surface. It may take more than one day. We need to be patient and pray. It doesn't look like caravans go up often. Then he looks at the little myconid and the deep gnome. And how would we send you home as well? I think we need to look for merchants going to your region. It sounds honestly more real.
... and we shouldnt broadcast that we are surfacers.
Hue looked down at his torn clothes and thought he didn't look like anything anyone'd seen before. Good armour over the slave rags of his surface clothes made for spelunking for mushrooms. He thought he looked a little mad. ::Um, should I avoid talking?? I mean, do I have a noticable accen'?::
Dawnbringer's light flickered and went out, but she complained bitterly to Maddy about it for a moment in her mind. But even the sword understood the need for safety, and after all, the city wasn't pitch dark. Hundreds of forges shed a red glow that slid through the smog and illuminated everything with an eerie, bloody light.
Head and shoulders above the rest, Maddy looks around, searching for Ghohlbrorn's Lair, the inn that Hemeth had recommended. This close to the docks, she saw warehouses and processing factories, and a lot of traffic, both wagon and pedestrian, but nothing that looked like an inn.
Towering high over the docks, on the shore of Darklake, you can all see what Hemeth called Donglorrun Torrune, or Overlake Hold. It's both fortress and temple, carved out of an enormous stalagmite. Smoke billows from the forge chimneys which bristle from the structure, and dozens (maybe hundreds) of catapults rest on ledges, ready to repel lake-born dangers. The Deepking resides there, and it is the location of the jail as well.
Stool, riding high on Maddy, is unable to translate the cacophany around them. There are too many people speaking too many languages. He continues to translate among you, but cannot do more than that.
Kalanzar, with his keen ears and understanding of undercommon, hears a party of svifneblin talking about heading to the Blade Bazaar, hoping to buy better weapons.
Huet-huet catches sight of a wagon full of mushrooms, varieties he hadn't yet seen in the underdark, piled high. The duergar pulling and pushing the wagon are talking animatedly. Jimjar notices Hue's interest in the mushrooms and whispers, "They're taking those to the brewery."
I don't like this place, the drow will say, looking at the Overlake Hold. We should do our best to stay away from there. Then Kalanzar will approach the two deep gnomes and clarify what place they are talking about (and whether visitors can go there).
Maddy soothed Dawn as best she could in her mind as they began to walk the streets and look for the inn. She knew that she would be totally lost without Stool since she didn't know any of the languages being spoken around her.
When the Stool collective conversation turned towards the Overlake Hold, Maddy nodded grimly. Being imprisoned by the Drow had been bad enough, she could only imagine the conditions within that structure. The thought of dark, enclosed quarters made shivers go down Maddy's spin and despite the heat of the city, goosebumps to form on her skin.
Alexandra didnt trust her undercommon enough to ask around. And using silent image assisted phantomime would draw too much attention.
Huet-huet catches sight of a wagon full of mushrooms, varieties he hadn't yet seen in the underdark, piled high. The duergar pulling and pushing the wagon are talking animatedly. Jimjar notices Hue's interest in the mushrooms and whispers, "They're taking those to the brewery."
::’Shroom beer?:: Precious queried, trying to keep his thoughts properly horrified in case Stool took offense to what was happening to his extremely distant cousins. And part of him was repelled at the thought of good barley being disregarded as brewing material… but then again, crops didn’t grow so good without sunlight and he had to admit he appreciated the dark dwarves’ adaptability to take what they had and… refine it to its highest form. Perhaps there would be a chance to sample some of it during their visit? After all this time with cold stews and dry rations and… whoever knew what, he could commit murder for a cold pint.
As Kalanzar moved to chat with a group of deep gnomes Precious decided to follow along, as that group of Underdark-dwellers were at least more likely to take kindly to a surface dwarf.
”Well met,” he grunted in his strangely accented Undercommon – the knowledge of the language had been one of the few agreeable gifts he had received from his so-called patron, after all, and the Fey influence in the teaching had left a mark. ”Ye sound like ye know yer way ‘round these parts. Ever heard o’ Ghohlbrorn's Lair? Git told there’s halfway-decent bunks to be found there, but we be lost like a goblin in a mountain king’s hoard. Would appreciate if ye had an inklin’ to share.”
The deep gnomes look at the drow suspiciously, but reluctantly tell him, "The Blade Bazaar is the only place that will sell to outsiders like us. It's straight ahead three blocks, then turn left at the sign with the displacer beast on it." They then scurry away quickly, as if fearful of being caught talking to Kalanzar.
"Ghohlbrorn's Lair?" The duergar look at Precious with amused curiosity. "Don't know if they'll have any pillows big enough for that rack!" The laughed, not completely unkindly. "It's not far ahead, keep going ahead, then follow the crowd left to the Bazaar. The inn is on the south edge of it."
You are able to follow the instructions and come finally to the Blade Bazaar. Though it is named for the most abundant goods that the duergar offer, the shops here sell almost everything available in the city. Visiting merchants of various races also have stalls set up.
The din of people arguing and haggling, mostly in dwarvish, nearly drowns out the hammering coming from the city's forges.
I'm not a very good trader, but I can translate. My Undercommon is also with a surface accent, but still I speak it better than most of you. Besides you, he winks at Jimjar.
Maddy nodded at Kalanzar, "You come with me, then, and we'll sell the scimitar."
The young woman realized that she stuck out in this crowd and that many stared at her as she passed. She wasn't sure how she would be received since she looked so foreign with her white blonde hair and ice blue eyes. Either they would be enamoured by her uniqueness or completely put off and try to take advantage. However, she had to try to sell the scimitar because she was convinced she required a few basic items and money was needed to get them.
Maddy looked for a booth that obviously dealt with weapons but she also looked for one whose proprietor may be less hostile towards obvious outsiders like her.
Finding one that she thought fit the bill, she approached the merchant with Kalanzar to translate and said, "We have a scimitar to sell. It is of good quality and well made. It would be easy for you to sell and turn a profit. Are you interested?"
Alexandra tags along with Maddy and Kalanzar, occassionally exchanging small talk with Kalanzar in Abyssal.
Дорогой призыватель,
какой это очаровательный маленький город. Удивительно, насколько он похож на трудолюбие лорда Дроскара, хотя я бы предпочел, чтобы промышленность была менее... обонятельным раздражителем.
Вы высоко отзывались об их оружейниках, может быть, вы хотите узнать, где их можно найти?
Abyssal translation:
Well dearest summoner,
what a charming little city this is. Fascinating how closely it resembles their deities industriousness, allthough I would prefer for the industry to be less of an... olfactory stimulus.
You spoke highly of their weaponsmiths, perhaps you wish to inquire were these can be found?
As she does so, she is on the lookout for anyone who would identify the language she speaks as that of the Abyss.
Stop. Kalanzar interrupts Alexandra somewhere in the middle of her speech. Just because I know this vile language doesn't mean I like listening to it. Beware, it drives crazy those who speak it too much. And even more so, you attract attention.
When they reaches the place of trade, Kalanzar carefully translates Maddy's words.
I wonder how the merchant perceives me? It's like I'm accompanying this woman... Drow serve their women, but Maddy is not a drow and from the point of view of my people is just garbage. And yet the drow accompanies her and acts as an obedient interpreter. This should put them at a dead end.
Kalanzar smiles almost imperceptibly from the corner of his lips.
"They're taking those to the brewery."
Finding one that she thought fit the bill, she approached the merchant with Kalanzar to translate and said, "We have a scimitar to sell. It is of good quality and well made. It would be easy for you to sell and turn a profit. Are you interested?"
persuasion: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
I wonder how the merchant perceives me? It's like I'm accompanying this woman... Drow serve their women, but Maddy is not a drow and from the point of view of my people is just garbage. And yet the drow accompanies her and acts as an obedient interpreter. This should put them at a dead end.Kalanzar smiles almost imperceptibly from the corner of his lips.
The merchant is a young duergar, neatly combed and with an unusual smile on his lips. He looks at Maddy, then glances at Kalanzar, and his eyes widen. Leaning over slightly to the side, he looks to the left and whispers, "Now that's not something you see everyday, even here!"
Straightening up, he takes the scimitar in his hands and frowns. "Drow work, this, don't you think?" He holds the scimitar to his left a moment, then nods. "Yes, I agree. Serviceable, but not as good as duergar blades! Perhaps I can pass this on to another of the dark elves without too much loss. I'll give you...." he turned to his left again, pausing, then nodded, "three gold for it."
Maddy watched the young duergar with a mixture of curiosity and unease as he continually seemed to be looking or speaking to the left, rather than her. It reminded her a bit of Old Man Stein from back home. He was often seen having arguments with thin air. He insisted that he was speaking with the fae but no one ever saw them but him. Most of the village just assumed he was touched in the head and humoured him. Once Maddy had even waved to something she couldn't see that he had been talking to on her way out of the village with the flock.
She moved slightly to his left so that he would focus more on her. She nodded and added, "Yes, Drow work." She figured that it was fairly well made and even though she hadn't bought a weapon herself in a really long time, she figured it was worth more than what was offered.
Regardless of her knowledge of weapons and their worth, three gold seemed a little low to her. Plus, they would need more for supplies than just three gold.
"It may not be a duergar blade but it is still worth more than three gold. Even used, it is worth at least fifteen."
Need to work on my perception to impersonate a Succubus I guess
Straightening up, he takes the scimitar in his hands and frowns. "Drow work, this, don't you think?" He holds the scimitar to his left a moment, then nods. "Yes, I agree. Serviceable, but not as good as duergar blades! Perhaps I can pass this on to another of the dark elves without too much loss. I'll give you...." he turned to his left again, pausing, then nodded, "three gold for it."
”Aye, ain’t no way nothin’ forged by the pointy-ears matches the work by real smiths, but surely ye can do better than that,” Precious cut in, as metalworking was very much his own element. ”Just look at that pattern on the metal, aye? Pretty, eh? There be ‘nuff folks who will just look at the damn thing ‘stead o’ worryin’ ‘bout the purity o’ the metal. Give it a bit o’ a polish, ‘haps put on a fancier hilt on it an’ ye can surely get close to mint value with li’le effort.”
Getting into the spirit of the haggling with the duergar youngling, Precious almost missed a small shadow that had attached itself to the mushroom cart they had seen trudging along the street towards a local brewery, but something drew his attention that way enough for him to realize the shadow was, in fact, familiar. Clearly he wasn’t the only one eager to devour a pit or two. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if trying to draw attention to the halfling would cause him even more problem but in the end decided against it. The strange little fellow knew how to look after himself and, he had to admit, was a damn fine sneak. Odds were he would get to wherever he wanted without being spotted.
Kalanzar translates Maddy's words with a stern and at the same time arrogant look of a representative of a race that objectively runs an Underdark.
The strange merchant looks again to his left, then nods. "Aye, the antlered dwarf makes a point. No, I don't know why he has antlers." Turning back to you, he says, "I'll give you that the work isn't terrible. But hard to sell drow work in the city of blades. I can go as high as eight."
Alex keeps her eyes open around her. The hubbub of the market swirled around her, and it didn't see that anybody had paid attention to the ramblings of a pale topsider speaking nonsense words. She did get a few startled glances, but that seemed to be on account of her height and her skin colour, nothing more.
Meanwhile, Hue ignored the market altogether. He practically floated along behind the mushroom cart, his deep love of fungus having taken over. And as they approached their destination (just a block or two beyond the periphery of the Blade Bazaar), he wasn't disappointed.
The first thing he notices is a small forest of giant mushrooms. They're of a type Hue hasn't seen before, and they glisten in the dim glow of the city. A dozen shades of brown and grey, with pale threads of yellow weaving through their stalks. As he approaches, the halfling realizes that they're not moving, not even a little. He realizes they're not alive - they're petrified.
Nestled within the forest is a ramshackle stone building. Steam pours out of windows and chimneys, filling the area with a heavy, yeasty stink. As the wagon approaches, a pair of grey dwarves pulls the heavy door open, revealing a hive of activity inside. Dozens of copper kegs stand at the ready, and burly gray dwarves swarm around inside, mashing fungus, mixing fermented masses, and filling casks with freshly brewed ale.
The duergar that Hue followed back the cart up to the doors, and begin unloading into the busy building.
Hue went wide around the giant petrified mushrooms. He came around the entryway and hid behind it. As the dwarves off-loaded he tried to time himself with a second they were both looking away.
He reached around and grabbed one.
Waited.
And then a hand full.
Waited.
And then another.
He crawled back around to the back of the petrified building and counted his booty.
Maddy was very distracted by the fact that the merchant kept whispering to the left. Was this some sort of act or maybe he had issues and they should find someone else to deal with.
She blurted, "If you can go to eight you can go to ten, right?"
Meanwhile she spoke to Stool using her mind, ::Can you detect whether there is someone the duergar is communicating with? Maybe there is someone else we should be dealing with if they're the one making the decisions::
Stool cocked his head, as if listening, and then shook it. ::If he's talking to anybody, I can't hear them at all!::
The merchant spoke to his left again, "Well, she's not wrong. Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Ten it is." He took the scimitar and counted out ten gold pieces, minted with the Deepking's face. "You be needing anything else?"
Meanwhile, Hue crouched in the petrified forest and checked out his stolen fungal goods. The mushrooms were of the shelf-type, but soft and meaty. They had deep gills, and seemed to be faintly orange - though that could be from the overall reddish glow of the city. They were of fairly uniform size, neatly sliced from where they had grown, and he had...thirteen of them.
Hue finally looked up like he was having his first conscious thought since he clapped eyes on the mushroom cart.
"Oh Mister Hue, where did you ge' us to this time? ... well Mister Hue, I do believe you had some hand in this, at leas' as much as myself ... I concede most apologetically, Mister Hue ... I sugges' we star' by heading away? ... bu' firs' hide these exquisite spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus."
Hue stuffed the mushrooms inside of his armour. He went wide around the entryway of this petrified mushroom forest and tried to find his way back to where he started, and then find the, what was it?, blade bazaar?
His sense of direction didn't seem to fail him.
The merchant spoke to his left again, "Well, she's not wrong. Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Ten it is." He took the scimitar and counted out ten gold pieces, minted with the Deepking's face. "You be needing anything else?"
::’phaps we shoulda go an’ find that inn soonish, so we git a chance to plan our next move in peace:: Precious thought to the group.
Maddy collected the money from the duergar merchant. "Thank you for doing business with me. We don't need anything more right now but if something changes, I'll know where to bring my coin."
Hearing Precious' suggestion she thinks back, ::I'd like to go rest sooner than later but I really think we need a few proper water skins before turning in::
Her eyes were already scanning the other booths for more basic equipment.
Yes. The tavern. Kalanzar doesn't look confident. I've heard about big cities, I've heard about taverns in them, but I've never been to one. I hoped that the first visit to the "big world" would be more pleasant. Well...
Hue blended into the back of the group like he'd always been there, albeit looking slightly dazed like he'd been in a dream. He looked over at Precious and saw the keen-eyed codger looking back at him. He tried to regain his posture.
"Um ... did somebody say Tavern? ... brother Albert had a saying about taverns, ah, 'Three things mark a person for failure. An unfortuna'e tattoo. Bad pillow talk. And drinking alone.'"
"Um ... did somebody say Tavern? ... Albert had a saying about taverns, ah, 'Three things mark a person for failure. An unfortuna'e tattoo. Bad pillow talk. And drinking alone.'"
”Aye, a tavern. Need plenty o’ plannin’ fer our next more, I think. We need to decide on our next goal, try an’ find a map that shows us the way or ‘least someone pointin’ us in the right direction, ‘sumin’ some o’ the main routes to the other big, friendly-ish cities down here be well ‘nuff marked?. Then supplies for the trip. Even better, a merchant caravan goin’ our way that we could join fer protection in numbers, ‘haps work our way as sellswords, extra guards fer the trip?”
”Anyway, where did ye sneak off to before, eh?” Precious muttered, glancing at the halfling. ”Ain’t no-one chasin’ after ye shoutin’ like a madman an’ wavin’ weapons ‘round so I suppose whatever ye did went well?”
”Anyway, where did ye sneak off to before, eh?”
"Have you ever gone for a walk and jus' sor' of fall into a rhythm and stop thinking abou' where you're going? Ever find yourself somewhere and forge' exactly going there? I remember the mushroom wheelbarrow and I remember a humongous petrified toadstool with some kind of refinery inside. Also, now I seem to have these and I don't have any money to have paid for them." Hue pulled out a palm sized shelf mushroom from his boot. "Look a' the marbling funnelling counter to the striations on the cap. I've never found fungus like i' before. And I've fancied a fair few place famed for fungus. But, you're right. No angry mobs, AAAaand, I've a beginning on a new collection." His hands absentmindedly searched a non-existant satchel for a lost mushroom diary. "Sure do miss my book though."
"Have you ever gone for a walk and jus' sor' of fall into a rhythm and stop thinking abou' where you're going? Ever find yourself somewhere and forge' exactly going there? I remember the mushroom wheelbarrow and I remember a humongous petrified toadstool with some kind of refinery inside. Also, now I seem to have these and I don't have any money to have paid for them." Hue pulled out a palm sized shelf mushroom from his boot. "Look a' the marbling funnelling counter to the striations on the cap. I've never found fungus like i' before. And I've fancied a fair few place famed for fungus. But, you're right. No angry mobs, AAAaand, I've a beginning on a new collection." His hands absentmindedly searched a non-existant satchel for a lost mushroom diary. "Sure do miss my book though."
Precious blinked as he tried to follow Hue’s train of thought and inspect the mushroom presented to his appraisal, finding either something of a challenge.
”Aye, wanderin’. That’s what git me this headache,” the dwarf grunted, scraping the tines of one antler against the wall of a building they were walking past. He thought for a moment, then sighed. He certainly wasn’t in a position to teach anyone how to live their lives, and considering Hue had managed to hang onto both his curiosity and his life to this day, he seemed expert in both matters. ”I git what ye be sayin’, but wouldn’t hurt to let us know if ye decide to go out ‘scoutin’’, since the Forger o’ Souls know what’s goin’ to happen to us in this rustin’ city, considerin’ past experiences.”
”Anyway. ‘shrooms. Good eatin’ in some o’ those. Present company excluded, of course. Which is all the reminder it takes to git me stomach all rumblin’.”
Hmm, good idea, historical artifacts indeed! I believe I can come up with an salespitch that is far fetched but not completely unplausible.
Alexandra happily notes her ascent
I would need a translater though, either Jimjar or Kalanzar, although if its Kalanzar I may have to subject you to a bit more of my Abyssal
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Maddy was able to find somebody selling waterskins that seemed well-made and reasonably priced (2sp each, you guys decide how many you now have and pay for them accordingly). The sale was almost derailed when the duergar merchant suddenly became invisible, and didn't seem to notice. He continued with the transaction as if nothing was amiss, and the new skins seemed to float over the table towards you. The money vanished once he took it from Maddy's hand. It was exceedingly odd.
Dawnbringer couldn't give you much information about the gold replica weapons. She knows the names of the party members who used them, and can tell you some stories about fighting aberrations, but that's about it.
For food and drink, you have two options. The Ghohlbrorn's Lair, which is the inn that Hemeth told you about. It has a dining room, and caters to non-duergar. There's also the Shattered Spire tavern, which serves all those who work and live in the Darklake Docks District.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Maddy quickly spied some basic gear and used the money from the scimitar to buy a few waterskins. She didn't want to be in the position of all of them sharing one creature's bladder for water when they went back into the wilderness. She also dealt with the merchant to get a few other items.
She took an involuntary step backwards when the merchant disappeared and things began to float around. Between this merchant disappearing and the previous one talking to himself, it was making Maddy uneasy. But she put her feelings aside to get the items they needed.
After she had stowed the items in her backpack or attached them to the side, she nodded to the others that she was finished. "I think we're good to find a place to stay and get some food. Hemeth said that we could get a room at Ghohlbrorn's Lair. On the surface, places often include a meal with a room so I say we try there first to limit what we may have to spend. We have six gold left."
She paused for a bit and her eyes got a far off look in them as if she's concentrating on a conversation the others couldn't hear. "Dawn can't remember anything that could be useful about the golden weapons and I think we'd get more money for them on the Surface anyways. Maybe we hold on to them for now."
Seeing Maddy get on with the haggling for basic supplies, Precious joined the tall woman to pick a few replacement pieces of essentials for himself.
She paused for a bit and her eyes got a far off look in them as if she's concentrating on a conversation the others couldn't hear. "Dawn can't remember anything that could be useful about the golden weapons and I think we'd get more money for them on the Surface anyways. Maybe we hold on to them for now."
”Well, was worth the shot,” Precious shrugged his shoulders. ”Let’s by all means hold onto ‘em in that case, as long as they ain’t getting too much to carry ‘round or just sell what we need to git our shoppin’ done. An’ leave ‘nuff cion for a tankard or three. After all that water,” the dwarf pronounced the word with a slight shudder of distaste, ”I feel prepared to down half a keg meself.”
You make your way to the Ghohlbrorn's Lair - it's not hard to find. The inn is built into a cavern complex just off the Blade Bazaar. There's a carved image of a strange creature on the sign.
You push the heavy iron door open, revealing a dark, damp, chilly common room. A dozen small, round tables are scattered around the room, with a few non-duergar patrons drinking at them. Several small, twisting passages lead out of the room, towards the bedrooms. Everything is dark, cramped and uncomfortable, but it is secure and defensible.
The innkeep, a stocky svirfneblin, greets you in common. He lets you know that there are dorm-style rooms for 1sp per day, or 2sp with meals included. Drinks are extra. Or there are individual rooms for 5sp/day, or 6sp with meals. Meals are available day and night. A mug of ale is 5cp.
Sitting at one of the tables is a group of three drow. They are talking quietly and don't look up when you arrive. A second table contains more svirfneblin, accompanied by a nervous looking goblin.
The part of Hue that had been traveling with his new friends felt uneasy as they entered the interior darkness (which wasn't quite like the exterior dark). He was watching his own back, was jittery the way coffee always made him. He turned about every once in a while like something just feel out of his torn back pocket. He was worried about the drow. There were most certainly good drow and there were stand-offish drow, and there were drow that'd throw a fellow in a cell and make them work a treadmill 'til one was useless. Which were these?
The part of Hue that was used to traveling alone was kind of comfortable in the damp chill, as much as one could be. It was damp, and it was chilly, but it was a comfortable sort of uncomfortable. ::How are you Stool? Do you get cold or is this damp jus' up your alley?:: He stopped and looked at the others to see what kind of state they were in.
-pause-
Luckily, the two parts of Hue liked each other just fine and there were no arguments as he walked over to the innkeep, "ah ... ahem, Hello. Name's Drongo Tipplegate, friends call me Rong. These are my traveling companions and we'd all like some beds. Ah, as close together as possible if you don' mind. And some help with a little navigating around??? Miss Madison, do you mind laying out the proper coin? Oh, and a mug for me! What does everyone else wan'"
Greetings Alexandra interrupts very politely
We are mercenaries and seek to rent accomodations. Common rooms for greater ease of supervision. A bonus can be provide in return for accurate information on possible employers. Our paymaster, as always the scariest person in the group, will provide with appropriate reimbursement. She points to Maddy
Has the requisite coin.
Caravans to be surface would be particularly interesting, as I can be quite handy in negotiating with surface dwellers.
Her intonation is polite, but quite confident.
If not understood, she will, in the exact same tone, repeat in Elfish and Abyssal.
... and seek to rent accomodations ..."
Hue whispered through the side of his mouth and forgetting he could communicate through Stool, "I already said that part"
"Common rooms for greater ease of supervision..."
The deep gnome nodded his head politely to "Rong". "I gots a dorm wif eight beds innit, one silver each night." He tilted his head to look up at Alexandra. "As fer work, best talk wif the folks at the tables. Mercs come and go, they do, an' I jes feed 'em and sleep 'em. One mug fer Rong here, anyfing for you, tall lady?"
Maddy felt like she needed to continually duck once she was inside the inn. She also had a fleeting desire to drape one of the new blankets around her shoulders and pull it close to keep out the chill, but she refrained. Instead she crossed her arms and tucked her hands into her armpits to keep her core warmish.
She stood behind the others while they asked about a room. She figured that warm food would also help to ward against the chill in the room. "We'd like the dorm room with meals, please.
Maddy got out two gold coins from what was left from selling the scimitar. [b]"We'll take six beds in the dorm room, with meals. And I think we each need a mug, sir. But you didn't say how much the drinks were..."