"One gold for a single drink? This is gods-damned robbery." Werdred grumbles as he heads over to the troll, placing five gold in front of him. "Can I get the money exchanged now?", Werdred says angrily.
Feldus watches the human warrior stalk off, and follows him silently, digging into his filthy pouch for the few gold he had left.
Don't mind my friend's attitude. he says to the hulking troll. He is having a bad day. Can I get some script?
lucien passes over 6gp
he says to the troll one gp is for you, buy yourself a drink!
Gusztáv strides across to the troll, withdrawing a handful of coins from a pouch on his belt.
"It would seem that five gold is the pace that has been set," he says, handing over the 5gp, "I won't break suit."
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Gusztáv strides across to the troll, withdrawing a handful of coins from a pouch on his belt.
"It would seem that five gold is the pace that has been set," he says, handing over the 5gp, "I won't break suit."
Feldus grabs his scripts provided by the troll, and proceeds to the table the attractive tiefling female indicates. Looking at the money pouch, now almost completely empty of gold, knows something will have to be done soon. But not here.
As he approaches the table, he noticed the individual he talked to before.Hmmm, him again. Hey he looks like the waitress, hehe. Maybe i can set him up with her. They would make a cute couple!!. Chuckling out loud to himself, he waves the other tiefling over. So we meet again. Have a seat here, I won't bite you.
The nobleman makes his way through the crowded room towards the table, carefully avoiding jostling anyone as he navigates the mass of people—best not to give these beings an excuse to be offended.
Smiling as he arrives, he hands one of the scripts to the barmaid, "Thank you, my dear. I was beginning to fear we were going to be forced to stand."
** spoiler omitted **
Feldus sips his beer, while noting the liquids unusual color, also notes it has not affected the taste at all. Must be a local brew he he.
He looks over at his new companions, noting their individual talents, and mentally storing this info for future use.
"Well, now that we are here, the question is, now what?"
"Yes we are." Werdred takes a swig of his ale and leans in a bit closer. "You know if anyone in this town's looking for some workers, if you catch my drift."
"Well, I've got some experience chopping up meat. Where are they hiring?"
Greehr found himself in an odd situation. The inn was a nice change of scenery, and is definitely a lot warmer than the fog-strewn streets outside. Though now he was in a table with too many people too close for comfort, with little elbow, or even shoulder room to spare. He itched for his knife, but can't seem to find it in the mess of his pack.
He was among strangers, though the smell about one is vaguely familiar. And he found himself going through the motions in a daze, passing a coin to the troll similar to what the others gave. He didn't quite understand why the one human was angry, coin was coin, and people seem to give them to him all the time just for standing around.
But the beer was alright. Much better than the sludge water he stomachs every day, and it was a much less off-putting color than pale gray. The tiefling waitress gave him pause though. He'd seen other tieflings in the streets, but most came with the dirt, stench and personality of poverty. Not this one though, and he found himself idly watching the waitress make her rounds a little too intently, and almost failed to miss the leather-bound girl's entrance to their crowded table. He could feel his elbow room shrinking.
What do you mean by meat packaging? and how much do we get paid?
"Meat packing, eh. Sounds like fun. And as for the meat question, there are many different kinds of meat, he he. Some have less than four legs, he he. Sometimes meat comes with wings, he he, hehehehe, heeeheee."
He starts chuckling to himself for no apparent reason.
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"Meat packing, eh. Sounds like fun. And as for the meat question, there are many different kinds of meat, he he. Some have less than four legs, he he. Sometimes meat comes with wings, he he, hehehehe, heeeheee."
He starts chuckling to himself for no apparent reason.
The girl looks at you with approval in her eyes. "Yeah, meet is funny that way", and then she joins in your laughter.
Feldus looks her over with a leer in his eye. "Glad you like my joke, he he." An evil gleam appears in his eye as he continues, Maybe you would like to spend some time later after you get off shift with..." he pauses for dramatic moment.
"...him" pointing at Greehr.
Greehr scowls at the pointed finger, but had enough presence of mind to stay his blade in such a crowded place. Not entirely following the conversation before him, curiosity forced him to ask "What do you want?"
"She knows a place that's looking for workers. Workers that are good at cutting up meat, if you know what I mean."
Feldus adds "Yeah meat, he he. Too funny."
He turns to the waitress "So Alissa, know how much this job pays?"
It took a while for Greehr to understand the idea, but when he did, a conspiratorial grin crossed his features in passing. "Ah. Cutting up meat eh? That I can do."
"I have been known to slice into a joint on occasion," Gusztáv remarks, resting his hand easily on the girl's waist, "and I might be persuaded to do so again... Which particular piece of meat is it these people need cutting?"
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"I have been known to slice into a joint on occasion," Gusztáv remarks, resting his hand easily on the girl's waist, "and I might be persuaded to do so again... Which particular piece of meat is it these people need cutting?"
"My job is just to hire people. The details will be provided by your employer, should you decide to take a job."
Feldus thinks of his rapidly dwindling funds, and also the fact he cannot go back to his home just yet. Plus it does sound interesting. And any chance to hang around these guys would be useful to help solve his own issues.
"Sure, I'll sign up."
Although Werdred does want the money, he wants a patron more. If he just needed money, he could just mug someone. But if he wants to stay alive once the Family tracks him down, he's going to need someone powerful enough to drive them off.
"I'm in too."
"Very well," the nobleman says, after briefly considering his situation—if he was to engineer his brother's eventual downfall he would need resources, and anyone looking to hire the clients of the Last Gasp Inn must be wealthy enough to pay well, and most likely have the influence to be powerful allies.
"I shall lend my services to your employer... though I must confess to being rather surprised that they wish to meet in person."
im in although i will make my final decision after i know the detiails of the job
"Count me in." Greehr grinned toothily. Somehow, he found himself easing up, even with such a short elbow room. It must be the drink, he mutters to himself.
Feldus grins appreciatively at her in response, and says "Sounds good, Missy. Bring me a roasted haunch of pheasant, and a bottle of aged rosy wine.
Well, things are hopefully looking up now. He tries not to think about the meeting tomorrow with this "employer". If he was that willing to spend this much money, he would want results, and in his experience, there were always strings attached.
The mention of 'eats' brought Greehr back to his original conundrum, which is the gnawing pang of hunger in the pits of his stomach. A shaky hand calls the local barmaid to attention. "A pound.." He falters, and remembering the woman's offer, decides to push his luck. "Make that two pounds of meat. Any kind you have. Raw."
Greehr blinked at the question. He didn't expect an inn such as this to serve something like that, but it had been a strange day, and this certainly was a strange inn. Almost trembling with anticipation, he calls the barmaid closer and almost stutteringly whispers, "IQ. Just no Tiefling in the mix."
"I'll trust your judgement," the nobleman smiles to the tiefling, "I have no doubt that you can find something with which to whet my appetite."
just some fruit and some wine for me
"So, your boss is paying for whatever we eat tonight?" A smile creeps across Werdred's face. "I'll take a bottle of your finest wine. For the meal, surprise me."
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The cold morning dawns at the docks. After the night of revelry and hedonism, you stand in the freezing mists with one of the worst hangovers in your lives. You hurt in places you don't want to think about and you feel an unusual aching in your souls. A small wizened gnome appears from the mists, followed by two trolls. "You lot! You haven't signed your contracts! Here, sign here!" and he trusts pale white parchment in front of you, holding a stylus with a drop of blood glistening on its tip.
lucien looks over the parchment
he does a detect magic on it
"Am I to assume you are here to represent our employer?" Gusztáv questions the gnome, struggling to make out the words of the contract through his bleary eyes.