Jimmy Disco T
First Post
(Yes, yes I know... 'you all meet in a tavern'. Cut me some slack, It's been a long while since I've Dungeonmastered anything
)
Dramatis Personae
Mirtul 3, DR 1373, Early Morning
You have all spent a not particularly comfortable night in the common room of the Tapped Keg, a somewhat shabby and run down tavern in the tiny hamlet of Shad's Copse. The early morning sun streams in through the dirty windows and you awaken – some with sorer heads than others. During the previous evening you have all introduced yourselves to each other, eaten some dubious meat pies, and shared stories and tall tales.
You and your fellow tavern guests sit down at the only table large enough to accommodate you all, awaiting your breakfast. Soon enough, a surly Dwarf with crumbs and the occasional chunk of meat lodged in his beard comes your way bearing wooden plates of bread and cheese. A few of bowls of thin, gruel-like porridge soon join them. “Enjoy yer breakfast” he grunts before returning to the kitchen.
You hear a girl's voice pleading, “But pa, he hasn't come back yet!”A young brown-haired girl of maybe seventeen or eighteen is behind the bar, tugging at the barkeep's sleeves.
“He said he would come back for me after composing his song! That he would bring me flowers!” she says.
“Listen Marie,” responds the barkeep, brushing his daughter's hands off him and crossing his arms. “I know you're sweet on the lad, but I warned you about his type. He's probably halfway to another village by now, charming some other girl. You'd be best to forget all about him.”
“But...”
“Not another word Marie. Now go and see if Grundiz needs a hand in the kitchens.”
The barkeep turns his back on his daughter, picks up a cloth and begins stacking mugs on the high shelves behind the bar. He takes a battered tankard and holds it up in front of his face, squinting at it, before spitting on the cloth and vigorously 'cleaning' it. His daughter,ignoring her father's instructions, sits at a small table near to yours, looking sullen and dejected. Suddenly, she looks over to your table, and tilts her head slightly, as a smile forms on her lips.
Gingerly,she walks over to you. “Ah... hello. Your weapons, armour... you are adventurers, yes?”

Dramatis Personae
- [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]mips42 = Erevan Meliamne, M Wood Elf Fighter CN[/FONT]
- [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]dream66 = KerriCreycastle, F Human Druid N[/FONT]
- [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]epicbob = RobertWeaving, M Human Sorceror LN[/FONT]
- [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]industrygothica = Renestrae,F Elf Rogue, N[/FONT]
- [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]LiShenron = [FONT=Arial, Helvetica]MiriDundragon, F Human Wizard, LG[/FONT][/FONT]
Mirtul 3, DR 1373, Early Morning
You have all spent a not particularly comfortable night in the common room of the Tapped Keg, a somewhat shabby and run down tavern in the tiny hamlet of Shad's Copse. The early morning sun streams in through the dirty windows and you awaken – some with sorer heads than others. During the previous evening you have all introduced yourselves to each other, eaten some dubious meat pies, and shared stories and tall tales.
You and your fellow tavern guests sit down at the only table large enough to accommodate you all, awaiting your breakfast. Soon enough, a surly Dwarf with crumbs and the occasional chunk of meat lodged in his beard comes your way bearing wooden plates of bread and cheese. A few of bowls of thin, gruel-like porridge soon join them. “Enjoy yer breakfast” he grunts before returning to the kitchen.
You hear a girl's voice pleading, “But pa, he hasn't come back yet!”A young brown-haired girl of maybe seventeen or eighteen is behind the bar, tugging at the barkeep's sleeves.
“He said he would come back for me after composing his song! That he would bring me flowers!” she says.
“Listen Marie,” responds the barkeep, brushing his daughter's hands off him and crossing his arms. “I know you're sweet on the lad, but I warned you about his type. He's probably halfway to another village by now, charming some other girl. You'd be best to forget all about him.”
“But...”
“Not another word Marie. Now go and see if Grundiz needs a hand in the kitchens.”
The barkeep turns his back on his daughter, picks up a cloth and begins stacking mugs on the high shelves behind the bar. He takes a battered tankard and holds it up in front of his face, squinting at it, before spitting on the cloth and vigorously 'cleaning' it. His daughter,ignoring her father's instructions, sits at a small table near to yours, looking sullen and dejected. Suddenly, she looks over to your table, and tilts her head slightly, as a smile forms on her lips.
Gingerly,she walks over to you. “Ah... hello. Your weapons, armour... you are adventurers, yes?”
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