For the past four days, it has been raining. alot. the annoying and angry kind, big fat plops of water followed with heavy mist. the accumulation of water has turned the road ways into a vast sea of mud. Unfortunetly, there is no wind, so the humidity hangs in the air like a death viel, coating you in so much sweat that you think it just may be better to step outside of the green griffin inn and let the shower sluice away the nasty coating of sweat...
the other bad news is that the last four days have been boring. very boring. you and the other patrons have taken to sitting around smoking pipeweed, drinking cheap ale, and eating half flanks of mutton steaks and day old stew.
at first, ian stoleson, the innkeeper and owner, was glad to have you staying at his inn and buying his ale and food; but now, he has become crass and annoyed. Not at you personally, but at what you represent, no new customers. No traders. No trade to restock the pantry.
the morning of the fifth day dawns, and you awake to the sound of rain, again. you use the chamber pot, spilling the contents out the window in the customary lazy fashion, pull on your lightest clothing, and already feel the beads of sweat form on your brow as you step into the hall and head down stairs...
For the past four days, it has been raining. alot. the annoying and angry kind, big fat plops of water followed with heavy mist. the accumulation of water has turned the road ways into a vast sea of mud. Unfortunetly, there is no wind, so the humidity hangs in the air like a death viel, coating you in so much sweat that you think it just may be better to step outside of the green griffin inn and let the shower sluice away the nasty coating of sweat...
the other bad news is that the last four days have been boring. very boring. you and the other patrons have taken to sitting around smoking pipeweed, drinking cheap ale, and eating half flanks of mutton steaks and day old stew.
at first, ian stoleson, the innkeeper and owner, was glad to have you staying at his inn and buying his ale and food; but now, he has become crass and annoyed. Not at you personally, but at what you represent, no new customers. No traders. No trade to restock the pantry.
the morning of the fifth day dawns, and you awake to the sound of rain, again. you use the chamber pot, spilling the contents out the window in the customary lazy fashion, pull on your lightest clothing, and already feel the beads of sweat form on your brow as you step into the hall and head down stairs...
Frederick sighed.
He finished using the chamberpot and briefly thought about leaving it but shrugging he carefully lifted it and managing to reach high enough he tipped the contents out of the window..."OIII!" someone yelled outside getting the benefit of an unexpected shower.
Almost toppling over Frederick managed to keep his grip and returned to chamberpot to the ground before returning to the task of getting dressed.
Ignoring the shouts outside and the pandemonium that spread inside the inn downstairs he wondered how things had gotten so bad.
He had never been cherubic even the locals thought he was somekind of pigmy dwarf than the halfling he truly was and he wasn't interested in correcting their oversight since going prematurely bald wasn't something any halfling cared to talk about!
The beard had merely been down to saving money on necessities and he still didn't understand how the dwarves kept it trim.
He had joined the militia to keep his oversized family from starving and even the other militia didn't think much of his fighting skills, so when that dark day maybe no more than six months ago gone they had found themselves beset by ork raiders all those years of being bullied and beset by multiple foes had kept him on his toes and he managed mostly by force to get the younglings visiting their family members to safety.
Finding one of his own younger siblings missing he returned to the battle more concerned with his family's safety and was eventually overwhelmed and left for dead coming to underneath the bodies of a couple of his former comrades.
He returned to find he was only one of three survivors, the other two claimed the credit for holding off the orks and saving the younglings much to his consternation as his saving of the younglings wasn't believed by the elders and he quit the militia and his home village in disgust vowing to earn his fame and fortune before returning to restore his family honour!
He shook his head as he finally finished dressing and prepared to go downstairs.
Nothing had improved since then and little indicated that would change, he wondered if this was to be the story of his life, an embittered halfling warrior who couldn't even convince his own people that he was anything other than a frustrated baker...
"Morning Ian, how's the day faring for you?" Frederick called over as he comes downstairs ignoring the struggling figures of three humans who seem focused on dragging the third bedraggled human back out of the inn.
He looks as if he had taken a dip into something smelling quite rank and the scent was familiar although Frederick couldn't place why it was so.
Shrugging aside such unwelcome thoughts he headed to the bar and ordered his usual breakfast, a roll some cheese and a half pint of the local ale.
Taking the plate and cup to his usual table near the hearth he slowly ate and drank his morning repast as the innkepper as usual ignored the undersized dwarf.
The innkeeper's bouncers returned after ejecting the foulmouthed human and joked about someone getting an early bath, but Frederick concentrated on his meal wondering how many days he could stretch his funds to stay in the inn before making a decision on where he would head to next.
For the past four days, it has been raining. alot. the annoying and angry kind, big fat plops of water followed with heavy mist. the accumulation of water has turned the road ways into a vast sea of mud. Unfortunetly, there is no wind, so the humidity hangs in the air like a death viel, coating you in so much sweat that you think it just may be better to step outside of the green griffin inn and let the shower sluice away the nasty coating of sweat...
the other bad news is that the last four days have been boring. very boring. you and the other patrons have taken to sitting around smoking pipeweed, drinking cheap ale, and eating half flanks of mutton steaks and day old stew.
at first, ian stoleson, the innkeeper and owner, was glad to have you staying at his inn and buying his ale and food; but now, he has become crass and annoyed. Not at you personally, but at what you represent, no new customers. No traders. No trade to restock the pantry.
the morning of the fifth day dawns, and you awake to the sound of rain, again. you use the chamber pot, spilling the contents out the window in the customary lazy fashion, pull on your lightest clothing, and already feel the beads of sweat form on your brow as you step into the hall and head down stairs...
Having spent the first four days at the Green Griffin Inn with nothing better to do than to adjust to the routine of emptying out the chamberpot in his room, adjusting to the humidity despite the depressingly monotonous heavy droning of the raindrops outside, and having the same old ale, mutton, and stew, and seeing to the condition of his spellbook and spell components (making sure they both were dry and secure) had been something of a challenge for Kastolian, especially considering that not a week before, he had been "replaced" by his master whom he was apprenticing under with a younger and most decidedly nubile female aspiring mage- one with clear skin, blonde curly locks, and a very generous-sized che, ah, endowment.... The lanky neophyte pockmarked faced mage shook his head once or twice"No need to brood over what was", he thought to himself, as he adjusted his pointy hat ()on his head. "Hells, if I were in the old man's shoes, I would've done the same".
"Morning Ian, how's the day faring for you?" Frederick called over as he comes downstairs ignoring the struggling figures of three humans who seem focused on dragging the third bedraggled human back out of the inn.
He looks as if he had taken a dip into something smelling quite rank and the scent was familiar although Frederick couldn't place why it was so.
Shrugging aside such unwelcome thoughts he headed to the bar and ordered his usual breakfast, a roll some cheese and a half pint of the local ale.
Taking the plate and cup to his usual table near the hearth he slowly ate and drank his morning repast as the innkepper as usual ignored the undersized dwarf.
The innkeeper's bouncers returned after ejecting the foulmouthed human and joked about someone getting an early bath, but Frederick concentrated on his meal wondering how many days he could stretch his funds to stay in the inn before making a decision on where he would head to next.
Kastolian had already been downstairs and going through his midday (or was it midmorning? It was damnably hard to tell with the overcast weather that had come of late) meal as he wisely ignored the goingson between the bouncers and the bedraggled, ex-patron of the inn. Taking a moment to wipe his mouth with the grease-caked napkin so generously proved by Innkeeper Stoleson, the neophyte mage absentmindedly glanced down at his pouch. Mentally calculating the costs of room and board, Kastolian considered his options as he mulled over a plate of mutton,ale, and stew. "15 coppers left, twon't be long before I might be the next ex-patron of this fine dining and board establishment". Glancing over at his fellow inn patrons, Kastolian had noticed that the same underfed dwarven fellow had taken his usual customary seat, as had most of the other patrons- with Ian not even bothering the vary the seating arrangment as his patrons sat and did their usual routine.
Kastolian had already been downstairs and going through his midday (or was it midmorning? It was damnably hard to tell with the overcast weather that had come of late) meal as he wisely ignored the goingson between the bouncers and the bedraggled, ex-patron of the inn. Taking a moment to wipe his mouth with the grease-caked napkin so generously proved by Innkeeper Stoleson, the neophyte mage absentmindedly glanced down at his pouch. Mentally calculating the costs of room and board, Kastolian considered his options as he mulled over a plate of mutton,ale, and stew. "15 coppers left, twon't be long before I might be the next ex-patron of this fine dining and board establishment". Glancing over at his fellow inn patrons, Kastolian had noticed that the same underfed dwarven fellow had taken his usual customary seat, as had most of the other patrons- with Ian not even bothering the vary the seating arrangment as his patrons sat and did their usual routine.
Frederick noticed the lanky human, but having seen him around for a few days already merely wondered if the pointed hat he wore was some kind of badge for magi's.
Back in his home village they wouldn't be caught dead serving in the militia, admittedly from what he recalled those that showed any kind of interest in the martial side of things usually ended up dead anyway, but he personally wasn't familiar with such people.
He also briefly wondered if it was worth going over and having a talk, but decided to finish his meal first, after all he'd probably tip either his drink or his food by the time he got over there and for any halfling that just ain't right.
Unfortunately his meals were far smaller than normally expected for one of his people, but he did have to save where he could he noted as he returned his empty plate to the bar and eventually started to make his way across to the lanky human.
"So are you a mage or is that hat a family heirloom?" Frederick asked politely completely unaware that whilst most halflings could say that without being offensive, he however really didn't have a clue about the niceties involved.
ian glances up at frederick as he walks down the stairs.
AHHH, good morning, friend dwarf!!! How am i doing? RRR, the gods be damm this cur'sid weader. It be keep'en de merchants and rich travelers from staying at me fine inn. he says with a arm swinging gesture to take in the common room. now, i nay mean an insult to ye and de 3 others, especially dem priest types, and i be liking your coin; its just the weader prevents the flow of coinage. Ill have to be dipping into the emergencee fund to buy new provisions from the local farmers. and they know how to haggle, so ill have to be paying almost double to what i can get for the food. oh, and ill have to be paying some lads to go collect more firewood for the kitchen; ...
he continues to ramble while he cleans the bar and glasses contained therin.
kastolian
ian glances up at frederick as he walks down the stairs.
AHHH, good morning, friend dwarf!!! How am i doing? RRR, the gods be damm this cur'sid weader. It be keep'en de merchants and rich travelers from staying at me fine inn. he says with a arm swinging gesture to take in the common room. now, i nay mean an insult to ye and de 3 others, especially dem priest types, and i be liking your coin; its just the weader prevents the flow of coinage. Ill have to be dipping into the emergencee fund to buy new provisions from the local farmers. and they know how to haggle, so ill have to be paying almost double to what i can get for the food. oh, and ill have to be paying some lads to go collect more firewood for the kitchen; ...
he continues to ramble while he cleans the bar and glasses contained therin.
"So," Frederick breathed after a moment.
"Any idea why these travellers and merchants have been delayed?" he asks curiously.
Bread. He couldn’t quite stop thinking about the loaves that were passed around the table last night. He had his eye on a particularly large portion, but the dwarf—halfling—whatever he was—took it. He tried to rise above this more crass impulse of his, but, sometimes, it was difficult. Turning his mind to other things, he began one of the morning prayer routines of the Caregiver, quietly mouthing his orisons as he donned his vestments. He almost stopped mid sentence as he caught his reflection in the drab window—while not a fat man, his paunchy belly was beginning to find a place of prominence in his silhouette. Bread. Damnable Bread. I guess that little fellow did me a favor.
He made his way to the stairwell and descended into the main room. Eoleo’s eyes immediately scanned for the food and a comfortable spot where he could break his fast.
Selene descended the stairs to the taproom in a moping fashion. The young woman's hair was damp and matted from the humidity, as was her spirits it seemed. And though her garb was skimpy and revealing, the large sword she wore at her hip made it clear that she was no mere strumpet.
Selene descended the stairs to the taproom in a moping fashion. The young woman's hair was damp and matted from the humidity, as was her spirits it seemed. And though her garb was skimpy and revealing, the large sword she wore at her hip made it clear that she was no mere strumpet.
Frederick paused as he watches the young woman walk into view.
"Gods I wish I could I could pull off wielding a sword like that!" he says admiringly.Catching the gaze of the others present in the inn at that moment.
"Well you try wielding a sword that big when you're as tall as I am!" Frederick blusters.
"Hello and well met," he greets the young woman.
"How things with you?" he asks.
Looking over his shoulder and upwards.
"Oh and how are you too!" he asks the wearer of the pointy hat after all if he was a mage it was better not to get on his bad side especially this early in the day.
Selene ruffles the hair of the halfling as she walks by.
"Good morning Fred," she says.
Selene ruffles the hair of the halfling as she walks by.
"Good morning Fred," she says.
Fred blushes to the roots of his beard as the young woman brushes his bald pate and greets him.
"Go-od morning!" he stutters in reply
the innkeeper looks up at everyone as they settle into their seats with a weary, calculating eye. he pauses what hes doing and steps out from around the bar, wiping his hand on his apron.
here we go now, hows bout we have a lil fun. i know its just the start of the day, and its dreary and humid, but i thought maybe we could all have us some fun before the gets brutal, even with the best people.
he pulls out a wide-bladed dagger from behind his belt, holding the bladed weapon with ease. he flips it a few times in the air while walking to the center of the room.
as he gets to the center, he pivots with a surprising grace and flings the dirk at a chewed up beam at the end of the room. it gives a solid thud as it buries itself a good 3 inches into the hardwood; a slight hum fills the air as the weapon vibrates in its new holding.
whoever can get their thrown weapon of choice closest to my blade without going above where it sits now will get themselves the rest of their nights here free of charge.
ian glances up at frederick as he walks down the stairs.AHHH, good morning, friend dwarf!!! How am i doing? RRR, the gods be damm this cur'sid weader. It be keep'en de merchants and rich travelers from staying at me fine inn. he says with a arm swinging gesture to take in the common room. now, i nay mean an insult to ye and de 3 others, especially dem priest types, and i be liking your coin; its just the weader prevents the flow of coinage. Ill have to be dipping into the emergencee fund to buy new provisions from the local farmers. and they know how to haggle, so ill have to be paying almost double to what i can get for the food. oh, and ill have to be paying some lads to go collect more firewood for the kitchen; ...he continues to ramble while he cleans the bar and glasses contained therin."So," Frederick breathed after a moment.
"Any idea why these travellers and merchants have been delayed?" he asks curiously.
He made his way to the stairwell and descended into the main room. Eoleo’s eyes immediately scanned for the food and a comfortable spot where he could break his fast.
kastolian
** spoiler omitted **
Pulled out of his own thoughts by the kindly words of the winsome but aging tavern servingmaid, Kastolian returned her query with a smile of his own, nodding to her tray. "Thank you kindly, madame- I can certainly do with another swig of ale- specially on a day like this", Kastolian begain, giving a slight dip of the head to the servingmaid while his hand motioned over the direction of the rain-covered windows. "Kastolian- late of the archmage's tutlelage at your service; and I don't believe I've caught your name, Miss...?". Ian, the tavern propietor was busy at his routine of cleaning the glasses while chatting it up with the dwarven-looking Halfling; Naturally, as Kastolian's attention was on the servingmaid that he was conversing with, he didn't really pay much attention to the two's conversation. At around that time, the paunchy figure of Eoleo had made his way down the stairs.
Frederick noticed the lanky human, but having seen him around for a few days already merely wondered if the pointed hat he wore was some kind of badge for magi's.
Unfortunately his meals were far smaller than normally expected for one of his people, but he did have to save where he could he noted as he returned his empty plate to the bar and eventually started to make his way across to the lanky human.
"So are you a mage or is that hat a family heirloom?" Frederick asked politely completely unaware that whilst most halflings could say that without being offensive, he however really didn't have a clue about the niceties involved.
"This dreary day is certainly turning out to be one of surprises and serendipity", Kastolian thought to himself with a slightly raised eyebrow. The dwarfish-looking halfling- Frederick- "that was his name" the lanky mage had recalled the halfling introducing himself to the others days before; of course, there had been a few more people in the common room at the time..
The pockmark-faced mage gave a slight pause as the hairy halfling made his query. With his attention being called to his hat, Kastolian thought back to his being given his pointy hat by his former mentor on his very last day at the archmage's tower- a parting second gift, with the first being his spellbook, given on his first day of apprenticeship. By that time, Kastolian had noticed the final guest, the elfmaid- Frederick's favorite, as it were, making her way down the stairs.
Frederick paused as he watches the young woman walk into view.
"Gods I wish I could I could pull off wielding a sword like that!" he says admiringly.
Catching the gaze of the others present in the inn at that moment.
"Well you try wielding a sword that big when you're as tall as I am!" Frederick blusters.
"Hello and well met," he greets the young woman.
"How things with you?" he asks.
Looking over his shoulder and upwards.
"Oh and how are you too!" he asks the wearer of the pointy hat after all if he was a mage it was better not to get on his bad side especially this early in the day.
Selene ruffles the hair of the halfling as she walks by.
"Good morning Fred," she says.
Fred blushes to the roots of his beard as the young woman brushes his bald pate and greets him.
"Go-od morning!" he stutters in reply
Before Kastolian could give his answer to the halfling's question, Frederick had already headed over to Selene's direction. The lanky mage could only nod his slient assent to the hairy halfling's second question, which most likely had gone unnoticed. Kastolian finished his second swig of ale before Ian had decided to make his big announcment
Frederick noticed the Innkeeper draw his dagger and throw it with some remarkable accuracy into the beam.
"Good dagger and an expert thrower," he notes wryly.
He decided to wait and see what the others do first before deciding whether he'd try his luck.
kastolain
the rest...
ian looks at you guys with an up raised eyebrow, a question in his look. so, any takers? come on. free room for the night, just give a toss. No? hmmm, how bout i toss in some free drinks as well...
"I don't have anything to throw with. Can someone lend me his dagger?" she asks with her little-girl voice.
"I don't have anything to throw with. Can someone lend me his dagger?" she asks with her little-girl voice.
"Aye you can use mine," Frederick sighs unsheathing his dagger and offering it hilt first to the warrior maiden.
The young woman smiles and takes the dagger. "Thanks."
kastolain
** spoiler omitted **
Giving a slight chuckle at Mary-ann's remark about the "hole in the wall in the world", Kastolian scoots his chair over to the side so that the servingmaid could sit close by while saying, "By all means, I certainly wouldn't mind- not on a day such as this."
Once Mary-Ann is seated, Kastolian continues, "Mary-Ann, is it? Pleased to make your aquaintance. I'm Kastolian- a newly 'christened'", tapping once on the brim of his pointed hat, "journeyman of art- and consequently, a former apprentice fresh from his studies at the archmage's tower. And as for my being here in his fine hole of an establishment? I'd say it would have to do partly with this weather as of late."
Glancing over at a nearby window, the pockmarked lanky mage asks Mary-Ann, "Has the weather always been like this? With the constant rainfall and such?"
ian looks at you guys with an up raised eyebrow, a question in his look. so, any takers? come on. free room for the night, just give a toss. No? hmmm, how bout i toss in some free drinks as well...
"I don't have anything to throw with. Can someone lend me his dagger?" she asks with her little-girl voice."Aye you can use mine," Frederick sighs unsheathing his dagger and offering it hilt first to the warrior maiden.
The young woman smiles and takes the dagger. "Thanks."
After noting the go between the hairy halfling and the elf maid, Kastolian stirs from his observations to address Ian.
"Now that is a fine and generous offer, Good Sir. One small quibble, if you will... as the Elf maid demonstrated, not all of us have any spare daggers handy for such a contest". Pausing mometarily to shift the top of his staff from the wall it was leaning against, Kastolian adds with a slight grin, "Needless to say, I doubt that my walking stick would be very suitable for throwing against a beam on the roof".
The young woman smiles and takes the dagger. "Thanks."
Selene only:
The young woman smiles and takes the dagger. "Thanks."
Selene only:
** spoiler omitted **
Selene takes aim then hurls the dagger across the room.
with a fluid grace beneign to her race, selene grasps the handle of the prooffered dagger, plants her left foot and spins on it, her arm quickly snapping forward with a whoosh of air. the blade flips end over end in a blur, suddenly materializing with a resounding thud from the beam on the far end of the room. the dagger humms as it vibrates in the wall, filling the suddenly quiet tap room with its song.
Seeing the result of her throw the girl jumps up and down, laughing.
"Well now! Let's see if anyone can match that!"
"Wow, and that was my dagger she threw!" Frederick whistles staring at the dagger quivering where it hit.
"How do you rate that as a throw?" he asks the innkeeper.
Eoleo completed his trek down the stairs, watching the proceedings as he went. His eyes fell upon the meager fare at the table and absentmindedly touched the top of his belly. He looked to where the dwarf had been sitting. The thump of the dagger hitting its target brought him out of his contemplations.
"Oh, thank you for the opportunity to join the game. I’m not very good at the use of bladed weapons."
He taps his fingers against the fire-hardened staff slung over his back with a small cord. Sitting down, he touches each of the three small loaves he surreptitiously placed on his plate. He appears to be more content with seeing them on his plate than he does in eating them; however, as the drama of the competition continues, he quickly begins to devour his morning’s repast.
Eoleo completed his trek down the stairs, watching the proceedings as he went. His eyes fell upon the meager fare at the table and absentmindedly touched the top of his belly. He looked to where the dwarf had been sitting.
The thump of the dagger hitting its target brought him out of his contemplations.
"Oh, thank you for the opportunity to join the game. I’m not very good at the use of bladed weapons."
He taps his fingers against the fire-hardened staff slung over his back with a small cord. Sitting down, he touches each of the three small loaves he surreptitiously placed on his plate. He appears to be more content with seeing them on his plate than he does in eating them; however, as the drama of the competition continues, he quickly begins to devour his morning’s repast.
Noticing the latecomer, who was obviously that last to have come down from upstairs, Kastolian thought to himself "I must've been too engrossed with my conversation with Mary-Ann to have noticed him coming down". Being the only other Staff-wielder in the inn, the lanky mage had noted days prior that Eoleo was not a mage like himself, but instead was a traveling member of the holy order of the Caretaker, whose members held the tenets of the importance of healing and, to a lesser degree, dislike of the undead.
Selene takes aim then hurls the dagger across the room.
with a fluid grace beneign to her race, selene grasps the handle of the prooffered dagger, plants her left foot and spins on it, her arm quickly snapping forward with a whoosh of air. the blade flips end over end in a blur, suddenly materializing with a resounding thud from the beam on the far end of the room. the dagger humms as it vibrates in the wall, filling the suddenly quiet tap room with its song.
Seeing the result of her throw the girl jumps up and down, laughing.
"Well now! Let's see if anyone can match that!"
"Wow, and that was my dagger she threw!" Frederick whistles staring at the dagger quivering where it hit.
"How do you rate that as a throw?" he asks the innkeeper.
While Kastolian stayed quiet during the entire proceeding after his own address to the Ian, the end result of the elf maid's throw left him little in the way of doubt of who would be the most likely winner of this contest.
as the silence begins to stretch uncomfortably in the room from the elfs great throw, a strange sensation flows over your body. it takes you a couple of moments until you realize it is a cold breeze from the open front door caressing your cheeks that brings you out from the awkward situation. Your adventure hardend reflexes makes you snap your focus to the door and you see a stange-looking man walking into the tap room. You observe the newcomer's clothing is covered in splotches of miscolored paint. His eyes dart about, looking at each one of you with a strange intensity found only in those that are crazy or passionate about something. you see his bulging adams apple quiver up and down as he swallows a few times and appears to steel himself as he steps off and enters the room.
I see by your garb and your fine weaponry that i stand befre a brave company of warriors. Please, i am in desperate need of help! May i sit and tell you of my woeful tale? i can promise you a good wage if you accept my offer.
Selene shivers and says, "we're adventurers, sir. Solving people's problems is what we are here for. But if you'd please close that door first. It's cold outside!"
"Okay but first I'll need this stool so I can retrieve my dagger!" Frederick points out as he drags a stool across to the wall and standing upon it pulls his dagger clear from the wall before returning the stool to where he picked it up.
Once done he'll turn his attention to the newcomer and listen in if he hasn't already started explaining himself to the others.
I see by your garb and your fine weaponry that i stand befre a brave company of warriors. Please, i am in desperate need of help! May i sit and tell you of my woeful tale? i can promise you a good wage if you accept my offer.
Selene shivers and says, "we're adventurers, sir. Solving people's problems is what we are here for. But if you'd please close that door first. It's cold outside!"
"Okay but first I'll need this stool so I can retrieve my dagger!" Frederick points out as he drags a stool across to the wall and standing upon it pulls his dagger clear from the wall before returning the stool to where he picked it up.
Once done he'll turn his attention to the newcomer and listen in if he hasn't already started explaining himself to the others.
Staring dumbfoundedly at the sudden appearance of the strange paint-sploched oldster, Kastolian looks around the inn to see if he can spot where Mary-Ann is. When he spots her, he'll go over to her and ask her if she knows who this new paint-sploched oldster is.
Giving this newly arrived oldster a glance-over, Kastolian noted that neither the innkeeper nor the bouncers made any move against the oldster. "He must be known by everyone in the inn if he hasn't been tossed out of here- then again, he hasn't shown that he lacks for coins like the other poor bastard that did get thrown out", the lanky mage thought to himself.
In the meantime, anyone interested in talking about tentacled aberrations? ;)
"Oh hold on isn't there a vampiric floating head thingie? what are those tentacles for anyway?!" Frederick corrects himself.
Looking over at the innkeeper he asks,"Getting good help is getting hard isn't it?"
[ooc]"Hey who's missing their head?" frederick calls over."Oh hold on isn't there a vampiric floating head thingie? what are those tentacles for anyway?!" Frederick corrects himself.
hey everyone, sorry about the delay in posting. been having some personal stuff that needed taking care of PRONTO. Tomorrow morn when ive had a good nights sleep ill throw up a post and get the ball rolling again....
againn, i apologize for the lapse in playness...
hey everyone, sorry about the delay in posting. been having some personal stuff that needed taking care of PRONTO. Tomorrow morn when ive had a good nights sleep ill throw up a post and get the ball rolling again....
againn, i apologize for the lapse in playness...
.
.
ok...where were we... ah yes
my name is irwin. i am a fair painter of these parts and i have been commissioned by the mayor in this fine town to paint a mural of the surrounding area with the village included, to be displayed at the regional capital in the great art wing of the art college. unfortunetly, chaos conspires against me. my shipment of paints, specially ordered from far away kalamar has yet to show up. i had just recieved word from messenger that the merchant was making his way up the road to our town, but this was 2 weeks ago. and he was due at the very latest yesterday.
now, i need to know where my paint is. can you please brave the rain and humidity and find my paint?
ok...where were we... ah yes
my name is irwin. i am a fair painter of these parts and i have been commissioned by the mayor in this fine town to paint a mural of the surrounding area with the village included, to be displayed at the regional capital in the great art wing of the art college. unfortunetly, chaos conspires against me. my shipment of paints, specially ordered from far away kalamar has yet to show up. i had just recieved word from messenger that the merchant was making his way up the road to our town, but this was 2 weeks ago. and he was due at the very latest yesterday.
now, i need to know where my paint is. can you please brave the rain and humidity and find my paint?
Deciding that "Irwin" was indeed who he claims to be, Kastolian moves from his table to better hear the painter's words. Listening intently at the plea of the newly arrived painter, Kastolian replies, "A shipment of paint, you say? What sort of paint are you speaking of and where were you supposed to meet up with this absent merchant?"