[Tavern Thread] The Dunn Wright Inn

[epicbob]

Brandon the Swift

"Thank you"

Brandon takes a swig of his drink, a frown forming slightly due to the taste. "Beggars can't be choosers, as they say..."

Suddenly, he looks back in slight surprise at the Bartender.

"An Orc? From the stories I've heard, I didn't think your people would have the patience for this kind of work. No offense intended."

 

[Aura]

Grog the Bartender
Perhaps it was the poor lighting that disguised the bartender's human qualities, but as he stops eating and turns to face Brandon, it becomes much more apparent. Mixed heritage.

With a somewhat annoyed look on his face, Grog steps away from his meal and right up to Brandon, commanding smaller man's attention from across the gouged-wood. He leans his massive 6'5" frame onto the bar, giving him a very direct eye contact with Brandon. Putting both elbows on the bar, he speaks in measured words, "I be Grog, b'tender and bouncer. I throw idgits over twice yer size outta dis place nightly." His eyes narrow on Brandon, he leans in closer and continues in a subdued voice, "If ya insult me, you know… fly wit no wings."

There is a pregnant pause as his words sink in, interrupted by his face suddenly softening. He laughs out loud, "Har, had you goin' there, kid! You want da gud stuf, you ask. Only silva a mug. Beats that rat piss!" Chuckling more to himself than anyone in particular, the big man sits down for more cold dinner.

[sblock=ooc]Sorry about not being clear earlier, 'orc blooded' is one of several ways I use to describe a half orc, instead of just using the term outright.[/sblock]

 

[epicbob]

Brandon the Swift

After a moment, a small smirk forms on Brandon's face as he replies : "When I want to upgrade from "rat piss", I'll be sure to keep this in mind."

He also adds, a slight proud expression on his face : "Also, I've eluded many bullies in my time. I call myself the Swift with good reason. Not that I want to test myself right now, however..." He finishes a bit quickly.

Then, noticing the bartender's food, an idea pops into his head. "Say, why don't you let me have a look at that meal of yours? I might know a trick to make it more edible."

 

[Aura]

Grog the Bartender
A look of certain disappointment washes over the big man's face as Brandon turn down the 'gud stuf', although he casts a look of suspicion at the offer of 'trick' to help his meal. Still, he gets up, retrieves it, and sets it on the bar. It is unclear what it is… some sort of stewed carcass about 8" long with sauce and served on rice. However, it is clear what it is not--it is not hot. There is no steam, nor any noticeable aroma.

The old bartender looks at the young man curiously.

 

[epicbob]

Brandon the Swift

Evaluating the meal, Brandon stretches his hands in preparation. "And now, to work my magic..."

(Brandon casts Prestidigation)
"...literally."

Brandon appears to be focusing intently on the meal, as if trying to make it warm by sheer force of will. After a moment of this spectacle, the meal starts steaming again and already smells edible, if nothing else.

He presents the meal back to Grog and says : "As I'm not an expert cook, I can't guarantee perfection. However, this generally made whatever trail nourishment I had into something more palatable."

As he settles back into a comfortable position, he adds : "Enjoy."

 

[Aura]

Grog the Bartender
With the addition of heat, Grog's meal begins to emit a little steam and smell really quite nice. The bartender smiles broadly, "Uh, gud trick. I seen it 'fore… but it still gud. Much thank."

The big man pulls up a stool and sits down and eats a few bites before addressing Brandon again, "So wat yur story?"

 

[epicbob]

Brandon the Swift

At the mention of his "story", Brandon's mood falls slightly.

"Well...it's not exactly a grandiose tale."

He spends a moment collecting his thoughts before starting.

"I haven't always been capable of holding my abilities in check. This...caused problems."

"People didn't exactly take kindly to me for a long time. Some would actively intimidate me. As much as I wanted to fight back, I was afraid of what my ability would do to them. Which, by extension, would have made things even worse."

"Instead, I had learned to identify potential trouble and act first. It was the best compromise I could manage."

"Thankfully, my hold over my own skills has eventually improved to the point where I could start fighting back. People didn't like me any more than before but at least they left me alone."

"However, they slipped a rumor that my parents were, say, special. In a way similar to mine. At that point, I decided it was time to leave. I've been doing what I can to keep myself afloat until I heard about this area. They say it might hold answers."

He turns his attention back to Grog.

"So, here I am."

 

[Aura]

Grog the Bartender
[section]The big man listens to Brandon's story, looking off into space, becoming somewhat more detached and distant with each passing word. When it's over, he doesn't immediately speak. "Ya, boy… I tell ya… kids be mean. Talkin 'bout yer folks like dat. Hmph." He lapses back into silence.
[/section]


Marla the Barmaid
[section]Sliding behind the bar after a round of cleaning tables, the barmaid catches Brandon's attention. "Don't you worry, you're in the right place. I don't know about 'answers', but we got two things you might like. First, people who don't judge about… such things," she subconsciously runs her fingers through her hair, covering a rather small pair of horns with hair. "And second, we got work. The rest of the city knows this is a weirdness magnet, so people come here looking for special solutions to their problems. The kinds of solutions a guy like you might be able to provide."

"Anyway, I'm Marla, and," the woman gestures to the veteran warrior, "if he didn't say so, this is Grog. You just us know how we can help you."
[/section]

 

[epicbob]

Brandon the Swift

Brandon nods to the barmaid.

"Nice to meet you, Marla. And yes, I've met Grog. I just made his meal appetizing again, as a matter of fact."

Brandon notices, somewhat reflexively, Marla's small horns. He looks somewhat nervous as he tries to think of something else. Thankfully, he quickly remembers her mention of work.

He takes another sip of his ale.

"Speaking of work, how has demand been, lately?"

 

[Aura]

Marla the Barmaid[section]Marla seems rather interested how Brandon had helped Grog's meal be more appetizing. "Oh, made it better, that's awful nice of you," she begins, looking over at his plate as the grizzled veteran lifts up the small carcass for inspection, steaming with the heat. He flashes the barmaid a big smirk as her eyes grow wide.

"Disgusting!" the barmaid blurts out. She looks at Brandon, then back to Grog, who merely shrugs. "You didn't cook that…" Red with anger, Marla storms back to the kitchen, shouting, "Zitteaux, don't play coy with me, I know you cooked Grog's dish!" The door swings closed muffling the chef's response, but it's obvious he's not about to get shouted down by a barmaid as he barks back in his heavily accented Landellian tongue, making his origin in one of the lower baronies obvious.[/section]

Grog the Bartender[section]Any hope of understanding the exact words exchanged between Zitteaux and Marla are dashed as the bartender bursts out into boisterous laughter. One large, meaty fist pounds on the bar as his eyes tear up. "Dat better than I hoped!" Grog eventually manages to get out. "Marla real steamed now, more dan food!"

By the time Grog settles down, the yelling in the back has largely subsided. Somewhat recomposed, he tears a large portion of flesh off the carcass and chews, obviously enjoying it. "So den… work," Grog begins. "Lots of jobs, even fer, uh…" he thinks a moment, "beginners. Well den, three groups got hired just a while ago. Comes in spurts dat way."
[/section]