The Lost Shepherd Inn, Brindenford
Of the three taverns in Brindenford, The Lost Shepherd is the one that most appeals to those interested in exploring the ruins and dangers of the nearby dungeon.
The sign over the front door shows a shepherd with a crooked staff but no sheep. From noon until midnight (and sometimes after), the Lost Shepherd is open as an eatery and taphouse. Never burgeoning with customers, the place is never empty, either. Good smells waft from the kitchen, from lamb stew to fresh baked bread, frying bacon to sage-and-thyme roasted vegetables.
The building’s great age cannot be concealed by the frequent repairs, and so the interior is drafty and dusty, but fires in multiple fireplaces keep the place warm. The taproom is large and comfortable, with a high-placed loft above the door offering additional seating. Beyond the taproom lies the kitchen, a pantry, and a small office. The second and third floors offer rooms for rent, about half of which seem occupied at any given time.
Outside, the brisk wind of early spring brings a chill to the bones as the sun begins to set. The allure of a warm fire and good food draws adventurers to The Lost Shepherd with visions of gold and glory, power and virtue dancing in their heads...
A mysterious figure stalks into the room, the hood of his tawny wolf-skin cloak pulled low over his face, thick gloves covering his hands. A well-used sword buckled to his belt marks him as a warrior of some stripe.
He finds a darkened corner and beckons the barmaid over. "...whisky..." he growls in a low voice from beneath the hood as he lays his money on the table.
Karth, is road weary, Many weeks he has been living off the land. He is a grizzled looking man, not over tall at 5'6" but not short. His clothing is well worn and he carries well used weapons, on his belt and him. An unstrung bow is strapped to his weather worn pack, along with a bedroll. He has the look of a man who has seen lean times
He makes his way into the tavern, hoping for a bit of rest after the road. He thinks about the few coins he has hidden away in his money pouch, and while loth to spend them, he grows tired of rations. Besides he can't take the delve alone, he isn't that foolish. And like minded folks may be lurking in the end. His mind made up Karth enters the lost shepherd
GM
What are the prices here? food, lodging drink? also as this is important, how do you decide if an arrow used is salvageable?
As the patrons partake in their drinks and conversations an Elf in golden scalemail, that appears aflame from the reflecting torches, stomps into the taproom. Walking over near the bar, he then clears his throat and announces loudly "I am Dresiro Champion of Vune, I have been commissioned by the church to enter Dragons Delve and destroy the evil usurpers. Though your cause may not be as worthy as mine, those who are looking to explore the delve are welcome to accompany me." Dresiro then turns and takes a seat at the bar and orders some roast chicken and wine.
Fredrick leads sparks into town and makes sure he is holed up comfortably enough in the stables. He'll pass the stable-boy a silver to haul his gear up to his room and then make his way over to the inn itself.
He stops just outside the door for a moment, glancing up at the sign and raising his own staff, touching it to the shepherds crook somewhat superstitiously. He then takes a deep breath and prepares to make his entrance.
The human man pushes through the doorway with a flourish of his black robes, sparkling with runes of multicolored thread that form odd patterns over him. He pauses long enough for his entrance to be noted before moving to the corner of the inn, trying to find some shadows out of the firelight, all the better to look mysterious.
He will call out for the barmaid to bring him a mead, tapping the butt of his staff on the ground as he makes his request before letting himself take in the others around him, assessing them.
Fredrick will flash a grin to the Elf and tilt his head slightly, his tone jokingly playful, though the other man's demeanor doesn't seem to encourage such. "Ah, but who determines the worthiness of each of our causes? Your god may inform you of yours, but sadly I have yet to find a magi on high who was able to assure me that such a quest had his blessing."
Half smiling to himself Karth makes his way over to Dresiro's table. Taking a look at both the elf and the what looks to be a wizard sitting there he makes his introductions"Hail to three, I am Karth Tallstag, of no where you have heard of most likely, while I do not myself have such lofty goals as your own. I too have traveled here, with thoughts to plunder the depths of the delve."
A mysterious figure stalks into the room, the hood of his tawny wolf-skin cloak pulled low over his face, thick gloves covering his hands. A well-used sword buckled to his belt marks him as a warrior of some stripe.
He finds a darkened corner and beckons the barmaid over. "...whisky..." he growls in a low voice from beneath the hood as he lays his money on the table.
A pleasant young woman accepts the silver piece from Wolf-Sark, saying, "Welcome, stranger, I'm Taran." She is young, and just on the pretty side of plain. She wears her long brown hair in a ponytail and a clean white apron over a simple, modestly-cut dress. "What news from the outside world?" she asks conversationally as she serves the gruff man his spirits.
Dresiro looks at the two humans inquisitively. "The worthiness of my cause is my opinion, though it is the view of the church of Vune in whole. It is nice to meet you both, as you have heard my name is Dresiro, well met Karth." Looking at the other gentleman "Who might you be?" Dresiro then lays seven silver on the bar for his food and drink.
He will call out for the barmaid to bring him a mead, tapping the butt of his staff on the ground as he makes his request before letting himself take in the others around him, assessing them.
Taran waves over to Fredrik to acknowledge his request. "Mead, aye, good sir. Just one moment."
While he waits, Fredrik assesses the room.
The swordsman in the wolf-hooded cloak and the grizzled bowman both have the look of dangerous men...men who have known violence and difficult times.
The golden-mailed elf also looks like he knows his way around a blade, but his demeanor is more of nobility...perhaps even haughtiness. He certainly has no qualms about making his business known.
Besides these three, most of the taproom's customers have the look of simple townsfolk. However, there is one other in the room with the look of an adventurer. A short, muscular dwarf with a dirty gray beard sits on the far side of the room. He is wearing banded male and has a battered greataxe strapped to his back. He looks to be deep in his cups, based on the number of empty flagons scattered around on his table.
Fredrick will smile warmly to the server and nods his head. "I thank you kindly."
He then pushes up to his feet, giving a formal bow towards the armor clad elf and the man who has moved to join them, his hand pushing his cloak to flutter behind him, pulling a bit of wool from his pouch as secretly as he can and rolling it between his fingers as he speaks. "My name is Fredrick, my friends, though you may call me Flash." As he introduces himself a smattering of applause seems to come from the air around the inn somewhere.
"I too am here to explore the mysteries of the delve. Great mages dwelt here once long ago, and I believe they have left behind many of their secrets. I have taught myself much, but I can only imagine the skills I could develop with such knowledge available to me, the tricks I could uncover. If you could use my talents, I certainly would accompany you into the dragon's maw."
Knowledge:Local
Knowledge:Relgion(just in case it can be hit untrained)
Dresiro looks at the two humans inquisitively. "The worthiness of my cause is my opinion, though it is the view of the church of Vune in whole. It is nice to meet you both, as you have heard my name is Dresiro, well met Karth." Looking at the other gentleman "Who might you be?" Dresiro then lays seven silver on the bar for his food and drink.
A halfling with black hair that has started to gray and a gold tooth in his wide smile emerges from the kitchen. He places a plate of food and glass of wine before Dresiro and looks the elf up and down. He gives a shake of his head, then comments, "You sure your church of Vune is the same Vune as we all know and love, Mister?" With a laugh, the halfling snatches up the silver from the counter in one deft motion. "Welcome to Brindenford. Enjoy your meal!"
1d20+9 Knowledge:Local
1d20+5 Knowledge:Relgion(just in case it can be hit untrained)
"Thank you halfling, though I do not appreciate you questioning my faith." Dresiro then begins to eat his meal.
Looking over at the two again, Dresiro nods as he takes a sip of wine. "I look forward to our adventure gentlemen. I would like to head out as soon as possible, though I must say we should look for a few more able bodies."
Fredrick will give the elf a knowing wink before leaning in towards the halfling. "Ahh, but are you sure the Vune that you know is the same that is known to all?"
He taps his staff lightly(using his arcane bond for the day to cast silent image), forming an image in the air of a heart with the symbol of Vune emblazoned on it, it slowly rotates around with the other side displaying a shield bearing the symbol. The image lasts just a few seconds before it disappears.
"Each god and goddess has many more arms then a man, more branches then a tree. I would imagine that even the most peaceful of deities would need those ready to hold the peace so that the others may enjoy their serenity."
Bluff if applicable
"Thank you halfling, though I do not appreciate you questioning my faith." Dresiro then begins to eat his meal.
The barmaid, Taran, calls from across the room, "Don't mind Juddelo, sir. He'll start an argument over nothing, if it means he can get out of the kitchen...where he has work to be doing!" Taran gives the halfling a meaningful look, but Juddelo just laughs.
"What news from the outside world?" she asks conversationally as she serves the gruff man his spirits.
"News?" The hooded figure gives a grim chuckle. "The bodies of many men and goblins lie rotting in the forest ten leagues north of here. The battle was glorious and I lived to tell the tale. Now isn't that a fine piece of news?"
Raising his voice, he adresses the other would-be delvers. "Men call me Wolf-Sark, and I too have my reasons to visit the ruined keep. Legends speak of a mighty sword that lies there, and I plan to claim it for my own. If you are men who would not flinch in the face of danger, then I am willing to join with you for a time..."
Fredrick will give the elf a knowing wink before leaning in towards the halfling. "Ahh, but are you sure the Vune that you know is the same that is known to all?"
He taps his staff lightly(using his arcane bond for the day to cast silent image), forming an image in the air of a heart with the symbol of Vune emblazoned on it, it slowly rotates around with the other side displaying a shield bearing the symbol. The image lasts just a few seconds before it disappears.
"Each god and goddess has many more arms then a man, more branches then a tree. I would imagine that even the most peaceful of deities would need those ready to hold the peace so that the others may enjoy their serenity."
1d20+5 Bluff if applicable
Juddelo watches Fredrik's display in interest, then replies, "Well, I suppose you could be right. I know that the Vune worshippers would take to arms quick enough if trouble came knocking at the town's door. Most just don't go looking for it, that's all."
Taran interjects, "Which is something that you're practically an expert in, so you should know, Judd."
Still grinning, Juddelo finally takes the hint and saunters back off into the kitchen.
"News?" The hooded figure gives a grim chuckle. "The bodies of many men and goblins lie rotting in the forest ten leagues north of here. The battle was glorious and I lived to tell the tale. Now isn't that a fine piece of news?"
"Err, yes. Fine indeed. Please excuse me, enjoy your whiskey sir." Taran answers nervously, then moves away from Wolf-Sark quickly, to fetch a drink for Fredrik.
Looking at Fredrick "I am thankful, though I need no one to defend me."
Hearing Wolf-Sark voice carry over all the other noise in the room, Dresiro turns and stands. "Danger and fear have no place in this heart warrior. I would be honored to do battle by your side"
Fredrick will smile appreciatively at the girl as she encourages the halfling back to the kitchen bowing his head a bit to her when she brings him a drink. "I thank you, Miss. You have a fine establishment here."
He will look up towards the hooded man then "I imagine that any expedition could always use another who counts himself as a warrior when moving into dangerous areas. I cannot speak for those I do not yet know, but I am stout of heart for what we face ahead."
"Good, good. Then tomorrow we shall set out, and may the gods have mercy on any beast-men who stand in our paths!" Wolf-Sark raises his drink in a toast, hood still draped over his face.
"Good, good. Then tomorrow we shall set out, and may the gods forbid any beast-men who stand in our paths!" Wolf-Sark raises his drink in a toast, hood still draped over his face.
Dresiro also raises his glass in the air. "To our expedition. We leave tomorrow." He then grabs his food and drink and moves over to a table big enough to seat all the men.
Karth, does not say much though most of the exchange. "Seems we have an expedition then. Making his way toward the barkeep, he says "I'll have a plate of whatever you have, and a ale he says fishing coins from his pouch
Meanwhile, at the bar there sits a dwarf. All in all, he's an average looking dwarf, although slightly thinner than most. He wears leather armor and has a morningstar hanging from his belt. He looks up from his drink as the elf makes his speech. Of course, he says he is venturing into the Dungeon, but would he tolerate someone with his skill set? It doesn't matter, he will need his skills in the dungeon, in one way or another. With that, he gets up and approaches the table.
"You're going to the Dragon's Delve, correct?" The dwarf approaches the table, his hands raised to show that they are empty. "If so, you're probably going to require someone of my skill." With that, he flicks his hand slightly and a gold coin seems to appear from thin air in his hand.
"And what skills might those be?" Seeing the coin appear out of nowhere. "A master of deception. Though I find your ways less than satisfactory, I do agree your skills are required. May I ask your name Dwarf?"
Fredrick grins a bit as the dwarf makes the coin appear, tilting his head and trying to spot just how his hands moved, always enjoying new tricks.
"Your skill is that you can finance our expedition?"
Rubbing his hands together, he will attempt to mimic the simple legerdemain, dropping the coin in the attempt. Rather then looking displeased, however he seems almost amused at his failure and sets in his mind to continue to practice.
Sleight of Hand
"Nimbleness can be as useful amid the traps of a dungeon as the might of a blade. You don't have the look of a performer about you, so I can only imagine that your knack with manual dexterity and desire to seek entrance to the dungeon would imply you are a treasure hunter of some sort?"
"And what skills might those be?" Seeing the coin appear out of nowhere. "A master of deception. Though I find your ways less than satisfactory, I do agree your skills are required. May I ask your name Dwarf?"
The dwarf continues to do minor tricks with the coin "A master of deception? No, I wouldn't say that. Still, there are many skills that need nimble fingers that are required in the dungeon. My name is Rurik Ungart, by the way."
"You are correct. I've been called here by the siren song of untold riches. Of course, that assumes I shall live long enough to reach them."
DM:
Fredrick will smile appreciatively at the girl as she encourages the halfling back to the kitchen bowing his head a bit to her when she brings him a drink. "I thank you, Miss. You have a fine establishment here."
Taran looks surprised, briefly, at Fredrick's words, then smiles. "I am glad you like it here, good sir, but I am certainly not the owner. Just an employee." The girl strides away to take Karth's order.
Karth, does not say much though most of the exchange. "Seems we have an expedition then. Making his way toward the barkeep, he says "I'll have a plate of whatever you have, and a ale he says fishing coins from his pouch
Taran happily accepts Karth's payment, and serves him a large helping of the same roast chicken and vegetables as given to Dresiro, along with a tall flagon of ale. Say what one will about Juddelo's work ethic, he is evidently a good cook...the food is quite tasty.
Fredrick smiles at the girl, leaning in conspiratorially to whisper "Ah, but I think we both know who does the real work in such places. You run a fine inn."
Looking at the others he claps the dwarf on the shoulder. "Worry not my friend, it seems we have quite a team formed. I don't think the delve will know what hit it."
"hmmmph"
"You are correct. I've been called here by the siren song of untold riches. Of course, that assumes I shall live long enough to reach them."
"An army is better than a single soldier," Wolf-Sark opines. "As far as I'm concerned, you're welcome to come along, as long as your bowels don't turn to water when trouble shows its face. And I have first claim on the sword 'Grace'..."
"You are correct. I've been called here by the siren song of untold riches. Of course, that assumes I shall live long enough to reach them."
"It is a negative outlook like that, that will get you killed Rurik."
From the other side of the taproom a gruff voice speaks, interjecting itself into the conversation with slurred speech. "Hah, my kinsman'sh right, you know. It'sh dangeroush down in the delve. Trusht me, I know all about it. I've been there."
The speaker is a short, muscular dwarf with a dirty gray beard. He wears banded mail, and has a greataxe strapped to his back (which looks like it has not been well cared for). From the numerous empty ale flagons on his table, he is apparently deep in his cups.
Fredrick will raise his brow a bit at the new dwarf's pronunciation though he glances to the others who look like regulars in the club, including the barmaid to try and pick up whether this newcomer is taken very seriously by those who would know someone here long enough to have been to the delve.
"Truly? And yet you have returned. It cannot be so terrible if some of those who venture within return. Obviously, my fellows intend to venture forth towards the Delve on the morrow, are there any insights you can give us for what we may expect? Perhaps give us an idea of the layout."
Fredrick will raise his brow a bit at the new dwarf's pronunciation though he glances to the others who look like regulars in the club, including the barmaid to try and pick up whether this newcomer is taken very seriously by those who would know someone here long enough to have been to the delve.
Taran catches Fredrick's look, but can only shrug her shoulders in response. As she passes by the illusionist to refill a cup, she says in a low voice, "That's Erlan Furg. He's been a fixture here for over a year now, getting drunk and jawing at anyone who will listen with tales of his 'experiences' in the dungeon. Who knows if any of it's true?"
"Truly? And yet you have returned. It cannot be so terrible if some of those who venture within return. Obviously, my fellows intend to venture forth towards the Delve on the morrow, are there any insights you can give us for what we may expect? Perhaps give us an idea of the layout."
Erlan answers, "In...Inshights? Well, I dunno 'bout that so mush. That were a long time ago, an' my memory's nosso great no more. Don't 'member all the detailsh and suchlike. But I can tell you itsh dangeroush, full of curshed moon pools, po...pois'nous fungush spores. Goblins. Took all my strength and cunning to getsh out alive, it did. 'Nother ale, here, lasshie."
"Yes, what can you tell us of the delve? What is your name master Dwarf?" Dresiro looks on curiously, waiting for a reply.
A large half-orc, who just barely shows his human heritage, moves slowly onto this ever growing group. His clothing though it looks brand new is both cheap and seems made as if for a smaller person.
"I will go also."
He sits back down at the bar finishing his meager fair.
"Yes, what can you tell us of the delve? What is your name master Dwarf?" Dresiro looks on curiously, waiting for a reply.
"The name ish Erlan Furg! Were you not lishening?" replies the unkempt dwarf proudly.
"Yes, what can you tell us of the delve? What is your name master Dwarf?" Dresiro looks on curiously, waiting for a reply."The name ish Erlan Furg! Were you not lishening?" replies the unkempt dwarf proudly.
"I was Dwarf, do not get belligerent. The owners may ask you to leave."
”Dwarf, what do you know about the carpets of Tral-Ferrer?”
“I am buying.”
He places a silver reluctantly on the counter.
”Dwarf, what do you know about the carpets of Tral-Ferrer?”
“I am buying.”He places a silver reluctantly on the counter.
Erlan ignores the bristling Dresiro, and instead turns all his attention to his new best friend, Osric. "Thanksh, friend, I needed a refill!"
The dwarf takes a long drink from his fresh mug, heedless of the foam that flecks his dirty beard. "Whatsh thish about carpet, now? Never heard of it."