City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn X

[Wik]

Elthic walks up to Kol, and gives a subtle nod of his head in greeting. "Those arcane sorts are more trouble than they're worth. Trust me on this one, lad. You say you are a battle proven group? Tell me of your exploits."

Elthic pulls up a chair, and grabs a seat. His spear, sharp metal tip catching the lantern light, is close by. "After all... as you said earlier, we might be here for a while."

 

[Lot]

Lokin turns his head towards Elthic as he approaches the group.

"Go ahead and tell him of our exploits, Kol. I'm curious on how you'll spin it."

Lokin extends his hand to the dwarf.

"Lokin Barnwill's the name. As Kol mentioned, we ARE battle-tested. Seen more orcs and lizardmen then I ever wanted to. Saw more of my own blood than I wanted to, as well. The most dangerous enemy, however, is the half-orc sorcerer in our group who tried to rip us off after the adventure was over."

Lokin finishes his ale with a deep swallow finishing his uncharacteristic chattiness.

 

[WarlockLord]

Abdul begins playing air guitar.

 

[Wik]

ELthic takes a sip from his mug. "Half-orc sorcerer? Don't see those too often. Did he get what he deserved?"

OOC: And, more interestingly, was it a PC, or an NPC?

 

[Lot]

Lokin frowns and shakes his head.

"It's complicated. He used his magic to tell what of our loot was magic, then said an axe he wanted was not enchanted. We later found out it was and it appeared he was trying to cheat us. He denied it and tried to have us arrested for thievery. It was a mess. He's vowed some kind of revenge on us. Kind of a sad sort, really. Example of someone with a huge ego but a low self-esteem."

Lokin shrugs, then looks at Payne and Kol.

"Some of my companions believe he got off light and is lucky to have walked away with all his organs. With his fraud and his...um, carelessness with some spells, he was not the most popular member of our party."

 

[Wik]

Elthic is a little stunned. "Were he a dwarf, he'd be hung from his heels! Could you do me a favour, and tell me this lout's name, and prevent me from suffering your fate?"

 

[Lot]

Elthic is a little stunned. "Were he a dwarf, he'd be hung from his heels! Could you do me a favour, and tell me this lout's name, and prevent me from suffering your fate?"

Lokin passes his empty tankard to Joe.

"His name is Zurd. You can't miss him. He liked the sound of his own voice and he...well, no offense to any orc-kin in the inn, he was very well spoken. Actually, pretty long-winded, to be honest. Dressed in a flashy manner. Very strange fellow. You'd do well to stay clear of him"

OOC: He was a PC but he stopped posting and was NPC'ed by the DM at the end.

 

[Bront]

I know Rystil Arden and I (and I think at least one other person, too?) have more than one adventure coming up, and I believe Patlin also has one planned. Rystil Arden's been traveling a lot, but I think we'll be ready to begin soon. Just a little longer, a couple weeks at the most I think. Hang in there.

OOC: He also needs to finish a game that keeps grinding to a halt. It's been ongoing for over 2 years now, and I believe has had over 8 people drop it over that time.

 

[Richard Rawen]

Richard returns to the RDI with a smile on his face, though he looks somewhat tired. Stowing his gear in the rack by the door, he steps down into the main room and booms out "Richard apRawen, sword for hire." and strides over to the bar.
Lowering his voice, the young human asks for a pitcher of water and a cup. He proceeds to empty cup after cup until the pitcher is empty. Smiling to his friends, he mentions something about getting himself cleaned up. His clothes are still damp from sweat and it is obvious he has been working hard...
Richard heads upstairs to bathe and wash his clothes.

 

[Boddynock]

Tarag opens the door and strides in. His workman's clothes are soiled from the forge and his face is grimy with soot. He stands at the entrance and announces himself.

"Tarag, son of Azagindulad, of the Clan Durvinn - Cleric of Chennet' and Smith of Tarag's Forge." He speaks in a voice both loud and clear. His words thrum with the pride in his craft.

"I will craft the finest weapons for you, and armor to save your life! And I will adventure with you, bringing the blessing of the Forge God and his cool healing touch amidst the fires of battle. But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to sleep!"

He goes over to the bar, orders a dwarven dark ale, and drains it at a single draught. Then, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he goes up the stairs, first to a bath and then to his bed.

***​

The next morning he comes downstairs, now clean, bright-eyed and refreshed. His clothes have been laundered overnight, and his hair and beard are carefully combed. He heads straight to the bar and orders another dwarven dark ale. He helps himself to bread, cheese, beef and apples, and sits at the table to break his fast. Periodically he rises to replenish his plate, and his tankard.

Eventually he pushes back the empty plate and tops up the tankard just once more. Turning around, he surveys the room.

"So many faces! Surely there's a village somewhere that needs rescuing from a dragon? So, has there been any word of work?"