D&D 5E [IC] Adventures in Ashwell: The Edge of Dispater

The sound of hundreds of workers can be heard in the north-eastern corner of Ashwell. A wall is under construction, both here and elsewhere in the city. The stone is a mix of local material, some excavated from the ruins, and imported granite from a quarry several hundred miles away. The noise is unbearably loud to most of the city, the work occuring during the early morning hours for the most part. It will take several months for the walls to be in place, then more time for proper gatehouses to be constructed, and still longer for the entire city to hit some semblance of rest.

Things are only slightly quieter inside "The Edge of Dispater", an inn on the north east corner of the city. While often populated by drinking laborers during the night, during the day the inn is a bit more peaceful. The proprietor is a fat balding man, but one who seems handsome and distinguished in his own certain way. He goes by the name of Pete, and wears the civilized garb of a Conriyan settler. A number of books are stacked on two shelves behind the bar.

The inn and tavern is occupied by a few strange souls.

An exceptionally aged man with pale skin and silvery hair sits at one corner of the establishment carefully steeping tea and using the liquid to soften hard stale pieces of bread he slowly slurps into his mouth. The book bag at his hip is marked with the Holy Circumfix, a symbol of a religion that exalts a man who had become a god. He looks kindly, though his body is marked with faded ink of some sort.

A waifish boy shakes and rattles as the noise from the stone construction hammers away outside. He appears a pauper, but seems to not bother the keeper of the establishment. He takes up a spot near the hearth, warming himself and looking like he has been awake for many days.

A dark skinned green eyed merchant of sorts has a small table with four accompanying guards, one of which has three tiny clean skulls hanging from a net bag on his belt. The other three guards are all huge brutal looking men with unique head tatoos, though they wear no arms or armor. These Zeumi travelers smell of incense and soap, clearly not native to this area.

Raghnall wanders round Ashwall trying to avoid the racket as best he can before finding an inn
In a less noisy spot, he could certainly use a drink to quite the sound echoing round his skull, it was certainly louder than any battle he had fought.

Entering the in Raghnall heads straight to the fat balding man "Drink" he asks for in his native tongue. Raghnall adjusts the shield strapped to his back as he reaches for his coin purse.

Pete turns a bit pale when the stranger approaches him. He apologizes, though the translation is unintelligible to Raghnall.

[sblock=Kianni]"No offense, but we don't keep milk here! I hope this will be alright."[/sblock]

He pauses for a second to see if what he said gets across at all, then he pull out a flagon of wine. He attempts to wave away your coin purse, then poorly states something.

[sblock=Scylvendi]"Respect." Though the word has several meanings. It can be used to mean a tribute offered by the foolish farmers in hopes to appease The People, or it can be seen as a symbol of equality between Scylvendi.[/sblock]

Raghnall accepts the drink and inclines his head to the man at this point words seem a,little useless. Just as well this one was free Raghnall's coin purse was light his travels had certainly taken there toll. Drinking the wine slowly Raghnall was not used to this his was a simple life living from what the land and cattle produced.

Ersarkess Masheken, weary of the travel ignores the noise and the bustle and heads directly for the inn. While not pleasant, the noise was certainly no worse than those of bazaars in any of the great cities.

"Innkeeper, wine please. Something to eat if you have prepared anything yet." He looks around meeting the eyes of people and nodding to any who look at him. Serious young man of dark complexion, tanned by life outside, Ersarkess is well dressed and lightly armored, just what one would expect for these parts. But his armor and weapons are well worn and obviously used.

He sits peacefully at a table near the fireplace waiting for is order. One never knows when he will eat next or get to be warm again.

Image

Raghnall looks at the man as he enters and looks at everyone in turn nodding at them, was he looking for a fight? He didn't look like he would be much good in a scrap. Even if his weapons did look used.

Raghnall looks down at his axe his pride and joy looks pristine despite it's years of use.

Pondering what his next move should be Raghnall takes another sip of this wine everyone seems to like so much.

A balding dwarf walks through the doors of The Edge of Dispater. His dark, pointed beard hangs down to his ample belly and accentuates his ashen face. He wore raiments of red and gold with moderate armor, and wore one black leather glove on his right hand. One supposed that his other hand donned the other glove, but where that hand was was anyone's guess. Instead, from the elbow down, where his left hand and arm had once been, was a dull, smoke-colored clockwork mechanism that functioned like a hand but was anything but. There was a pincer-like vice for grasping, and the thing twirled and whizzed round and round in no particular manner, but when it came time to hold steady the mug of ale Pete slid down from the other end of the bar, the thing behaved quite politely, spilling not even one drop. Kilvo fetches a silver coin from his purse with his proper fingers and tosses it to Pete in what has to be a practiced routine. "Keep 'em comin'," he says. He heads to a table in a corner and flings his cloak back dramatically before taking a seat.

Azurewraith said:

Raghnall looks at the man as he enters and looks at everyone in turn nodding at them, was he looking for a fight? He didn't look like he would be much good in a scrap. Even if his weapons did look used.

Raghnall looks down at his axe his pride and joy looks pristine despite it's years of use.

Pondering what his next move should be Raghnall takes another sip of this wine everyone seems to like so much.

Click to expand...

If Raghnall looked the newcomer in the eye, he didn't get a challenge, but a polite nod, mere acknowledgment of existence and a greeting of equals. As he sat down, one who could see the hip opposite the sword could see coiled whip and across the back folded net such as would be used for medium sized prey. It probably wouldn't hold a bear or even a large human, but fair sized fawn or clutch of rabbits wouldn't be out of the question.

Neurotic said:

"Innkeeper, wine please. Something to eat if you have prepared anything yet."

Click to expand...

Pete offers up some of his own dry cured hams and various sausages as quick staple foods that require little in the way of preparation, as well as slightly dry bread or a simple porridge.

Close to the fire you are able to notice that the pauper boy by the hearth looks very anxious. He rocks back and forth a bit, but the loud noises of the construction going on outside seem to shake him to the bone at times. His nails are dirty and broken in places, and his knuckles are largely raw.

industrygothica said:

Kilvo fetches a silver coin from his purse with his proper fingers and tosses it to Pete in what has to be a practiced routine. "Keep 'em comin'," he says. He heads to a table in a corner and flings his cloak back dramatically before taking a seat.

Click to expand...

Pete gladly serves your drink and gestures towards the warrior with the axe at the bar.

[sblock=Kianni]"Scylvendi. Breakers of horses and men. Friend dwarf, you may not know of them. Tread carefully around that one."[/sblock]

Creamsteak said:

Pete offers up some of his own dry cured hams and various sausages as quick staple foods that require little in the way of preparation, as well as slightly dry bread or a simple porridge.

Click to expand...

Ersarkess nods
"That is fine, add some wine with that please and we'll talk business."

Creamsteak said:

Close to the fire you are able to notice that the pauper boy by the hearth looks very anxious. He rocks back and forth a bit, but the loud noises of the construction going on outside seem to shake him to the bone at times. His nails are dirty and broken in places, and his knuckles are largely raw.

Click to expand...

Sitting back, the bard looks over the boy several times before calling out just as food arrives.
"You, boy! Would you like something to eat? And no, I'm not asking for anything in return."
Tipping Pete as he sets the plates, he pushes the chair toward the boy while talking to the Innkeeper.
"I'll need a room probably, but we can talk after I eat. I'll be sure to talk to you before your evening rush starts."