Tavern - City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn 2010-17

The previous speaker stands poised with his mouth open while Kaleva promotes his business, then jumps in.

"Keldar Warb- that is, Keldarion. The Golden. My acquaintance is, oh, not an important person at all. He spends all his time... what is the expression? Carrying out forgery? He doesn't speak of Chennet' anywhere near as much as you. I sometimes doubt his piety and devotion. I suppose there are weaker and stronger vessels. Well, he has some small healing power, and I have seen him make a hole in a stone wall with a touch. So he has some gifts, I daresay.

"But I recall a time when I fought and captured a shipful of pirates, and he was there too. Do you know, he spent most of that fight flat on his back, wriggling about like an upside-down crab, begging my men to pick him up, and at one point even managed to set his own hand on fire. He danced around screaming and flung the flames off, and they came within a hair of setting my ship - the pirates' ship, as it then was - alight. Might even have been helpful if he had hit a pirate with them, but no.

"Well, I suppose such mishaps are why he wants to spend all his time inside forging."

Keldar, or Keldarion, takes an angry gulp of his wine, sticks his tongue out, and shudders.

Outside the tavern, rain has started to drizzle down from the heavens. The already overcast day is given an even gloomier mood. The square around the Red Dragon sculpture, usually bustling with activity, is practically empty. A few stalwart merchants have remained to hawk their wares, but no customers are in sight.

From this scene of dreary inactivity emerges a large man. Covering his head with his apron, he bursts into the Tavern with a jovial roar.

"Hear ye, patrons of the Red Dragon Inn! The name is Edwyd, of Edwyd's Victuals next door, and I have a proposition for you. As you might already know, today is my anniversary, and I have baked a most delicious pie for my delectable wife, over in the High District. Today's a miserable day, I know, but there's nothing like a party to bring up your spirits!

I've had trouble with the delivery in the past, and I need some brave, able bodied individuals to accompany the pie to my house, protecting the pie from the elements and the passersby. The group will receive free food at my shop for a year. As if that weren't enough," he says with a wink, "I have ten shiny platinum Dragons for the whole group to split! Any takers?" The smiling man holds a Dragon up and looks expectantly at the crowd of people.


[sblock=Knowledge (geography) DC: 5]
Orussus' High District is located in the north west part of the city. Wealthy merchants and nobles live there.

[/sblock][sblock=Knowledge (local) DC: 5]
Edwyd owns Edwyd's Victuals, three doors down from the Red Dragon Inn, in the same plaza.

[sblock=Knowledge (local) DC: 10]
Edwyd is well known for his fantastic griddle cakes.

[sblock=Knowledge (local) DC: 15]
Every year, on his anniversary, Edwyd bakes a pie for his wife and a small parade of citizens, drawn by the scent of the pie, follows the delivery all the way from Edwyd's Victuals to his house in the High District.

[sblock=Knowledge (local) DC: 20]
The tradition started 20 years ago, on Edwyd's first anniversary. Edwyd sent the anniversary pie to his home with one of his regular employees, but the employee was attacked several times by seemingly normal, law-abiding citizens. The employee ran from the first few, but by the end of the trek so many people were chasing after the exceptionally delicious pie that he was forced to throw it to the crowd.

Ever since that first failed delivery, Edwyd has hired a band of adventurers from the conveniently located Red Dragon Inn to protect his oh-so-savory pie. Following the delivery route has become a bit of a tradition for some of the citizens of Orussus, and every year at least a few members of the parade are overcome with desire and make an attempt on the pie.

[sblock=Knowledge (local) DC: 25]
Edwyd is very strict on the protectors of his pie. One year a protector drew his sword on a particularly ambitious crowd member. The crowd went crazy with fear, thinking the whole thing was all in good fun, and rampaged away, almost destroying the pie in the process and later causing problems for Edwyd's business. As a result, Edwyd began mandating use of nonlethal force by his hired Pie Brigade.

[sblock=Knowledge (local) DC: 30]
A small local sect of Geoth worshipers believes that Edwyd is actually an avatar of their god. How else could he bake such an incredibly delicious treat, they ask? Their claims are unverified by Edwyd, and even their existence is possibly unknown to the cook.

[/sblock][/sblock][/sblock][/sblock][/sblock][/sblock]

OOC: This is an adventure hook for L1 or L2 characters. Post in character here if you're interested. Feel free to have your character make a retroactive entrance into the tavern so that they can have heard the above speech.

The door to the tavern opens again, letting in the strengthening patter of the rain outside as well as a young, pale female already clad in her studded leather cuirass. She wiped some water off of her shoulder as she closed the door, muffling the rain again, and pulled her hood down as a matter of custom. Her blonde hair, despite the covering, was still soaked. She had been listening since the dwarf went in, but had felt no compelling need to enter until the rain made her reconsider. The rain tended to bring bad things with it, more often than not. And how else was she going to accept his offer?

This Edwyd fellow had a surprisingly ideal offer, considering Petra had been living off of stale bread and foraged food for the past few weeks. Her past in the marines was full of walking and guard duty - she looked at this proposition as an easy, sure thing. What providence to have arrived earlier this day. She wringed her blonde braid out by the door as she spoke up. "I am Petra of Arkanian, of the Vastermarch Cities. If it pleases you, I would be happy to offer my services. As for my qualifications, I am a veteran marine. My capability, should it be called upon, will speak for itself." She instantly regretted the tone of that, feeling both presumptuous and mildly conceited, but the truth of the statement alleviated her embarrassment. And no matter - she had to appear fearless, uncaring, and strong - the act of strength, she had found, was usually more important than the actuality. She kept her unchanging expression, one of slight impatience and disinterest. However, inside, she was excited - a brief stroll that would yield coin and food ... for a year! Not to mention the prospect of more work. She rested a hand on her rapier slung loose on her waist, waiting to see if anyone else was going to join in.

Keldar squeezes back against the bar to give Edwyd more room.

"The pie! Galwynn, that fool. I had forgotten," he says to himself. A wry sad smile twists his face. His gaze flicks to the door to take in Petra, but he pays her little heed. His eyes drift out of focus momentarily. Then he raises his voice in song:

"Set down your fine Karolian wine,
And bitter Bainlund beer!
Stand up now and join in line,
Let out a rousing cheer!
Depart the inn with fearless heart,
Though everything looks grim.
Be not afraid to play your part,
To risk your life and limb,
For what is suffering and pain
Or yet the chance to die,
Against the glory you can gain
As the Party of the Pie!?"

Then he looks confused. "Huh, I thought that had stopped," he says.

Kaleva, Cloistered Cleric 1

Trouvere said:

"Keldar Warb- that is, Keldarion. The Golden. My acquaintance is, oh, not an important person at all. He spends all his time... what is the expression? Carrying out forgery? He doesn't speak of Chennet' anywhere near as much as you. I sometimes doubt his piety and devotion. I suppose there are weaker and stronger vessels. Well, he has some small healing power, and I have seen him make a hole in a stone wall with a touch. So he has some gifts, I daresay.

"But I recall a time when I fought and captured a shipful of pirates, and he was there too. Do you know, he spent most of that fight flat on his back, wriggling about like an upside-down crab, begging my men to pick him up, and at one point even managed to set his own hand on fire. He danced around screaming and flung the flames off, and they came within a hair of setting my ship - the pirates' ship, as it then was - alight. Might even have been helpful if he had hit a pirate with them, but no.

"Well, I suppose such mishaps are why he wants to spend all his time inside forging."

Keldar, or Keldarion, takes an angry gulp of his wine, sticks his tongue out, and shudders.

Click to expand...

"It is well to make your acquaintance, Keldorian." The zealous dwarf replies with confidence. "I do speak of Chennet', but this is because I feel his power, and I wish that others can enjoy the same satisfaction. Not perhaps as devotees of Chennet', but for the visceral feeling divine creation, knowing that good has been done in the world."

Kaleva pauses, looking introspective. Then continues a little more slowly, "I have never made the same object, exactly the same way twice, and I suppose it is the same with the gods. I do not know that your acquaintance is a stronger or weaker vessel. He may merely be a different type of tool in Chennet' hands. What is your acquantaince's name? I would keep my eyes and ears out for him."

Rae ArdGaoth said:

... The group will receive free food at my shop for a year. As if that weren't enough," he says with a wink, "I have ten shiny platinum Dragons for the whole group to split! Any takers?" The smiling man holds a Dragon up and looks expectantly at the crowd of people.

Click to expand...

Knowledge(geography);Knowledge(local) (1d20+2=8, 1d20+2=10)

"An honor guard for a well crafted pie! I would join in it!"

OOC: That's two, let's wait a bit to see if we can drudge up any more interest.

"It's on the tip of my tongue," says Keldar. "Target, Tragic, Taradiddle, Turnip... oh, what is it? Ah, I know what I can do."

With a snap of his fingers and a muttered word, Keldar is gone. In his place stands a shorter, broader figure, a dwarf with blond beard cropped short, his beer-barrel belly pushing out a heavy leather apron. He looks about dazedly, with little glimmer of intelligence in his eyes and a mouth hanging slackly. With another word, Keldar appears again.

"He's not as tall as that, but there, now you can av- approach him if you should run across him," he says.

Kaleva, Cloistered Cleric 1

Trouvere said:

"It's on the tip of my tongue," says Keldar. "Target, Tragic, Taradiddle, Turnip... oh, what is it? Ah, I know what I can do."

With a snap of his fingers and a muttered word, Keldar is gone. In his place stands a shorter, broader figure, a dwarf with blond beard cropped short, his beer-barrel belly pushing out a heavy leather apron. He looks about dazedly, with little glimmer of intelligence in his eyes and a mouth hanging slackly. With another word, Keldar appears again.

"He's not as tall as that, but there, now you can av- approach him if you should run across him," he says.

Click to expand...

Kaleva is intrigued by the casual display of magic. He appears thoughtful for a moment, then shakes his head ruefully.

[sblock=OOC]Kaleva fails a spellcraft check to identify the magic used. Identify spell used by Keldar (1d20+6=7)[/sblock]

"Hmm... He has the appearance of a member of Dragon Spire clan, or perhaps a little of the Golden Cavern. I cannot say that I have made his acquaintance before. What his name?"

He pauses again, then asks a little sheepishly, "How did you do that before? Illusion?"

"It's just something I do off the top of my head," says Keldar with a shrug. "I'll tell Tarag you were asking after him. Wait! Tarag, that's it. Not Turnip."

Arthur's head snaps up as he hears about the pie escort.

"If I get paid, you can count me in!"

As he gets ready to stand he adds :

"When do we leave?"