CLOSED! Rhun's Greyhawk ALPHA Game (ToEE)

[Scotley]

The warlock considers the place for a moment before speaking. "I wonder if the appearance and more importantly the smell is by design to keep people away? Surely, there must be something of value here if someone has dark designs in mind for the place?"

 

[Rhun]

The bridge creaks and groans as you make your crossing, but the old wood is solid and you pass over the Imerdys without incident.

You find yourselves in front of a large, relatively well-constructed buidling. The foundation is of fieldstone, and the walls are sawed timbers. A weathered signboard proclaims the place as the Waterside Hostel. Bursts of shouting and laughter can be heard from within.

 

[Boddynock]

Coraine turns to the others and indicates the inn.

"So, are we going in? And if so, what story do we tell them? Travellers? And if so, on our way to where? Adventurers looking for excitement? That might not be well received - yet how to account for our martial aspect?"

 

[Rhun]

Ragnok taps his axe with his hand. "Let's go in and tell them we're lookin for me brother. See what they have to say to that!"

 

[Insight]

Otto, long silent, pipes up. "I can certainly go inside and have a look. Perhaps they have a fine merlot I could sample."

The halfling looks again at the building and reconsiders. "Or maybe not. I could scout it out nonetheless."

 

[Scotley]

Verdis

"I rather like the missing brother angle. Whatever tack we take, I think we go inside."

 

[Rhun]

As you open the door and enter the Waterside Hostel, you can immediately tell that this is a rough and tumble type of establishment. The common room is dim and smokey, and the smell of sour wine hangs over the place. A loud din greets your ears, as at least two dozen folk go about their business. Shouts and laughter are the order of the evening. While a few of the people appear to be farmers and other villagers, most appear to be fighting men of one sort or another. Leather armor and ring mail seem to be the preference, and most have a blade of some sort near at hand. Drinking games appear to be a common way to pass the night, and some folk play at dice, draughts or cards. In one corner, two rough looking men in dark leathers slash at each other with knives, while spectators bet on which will shed first blood.

Two serving wenches and two manservants weave their way through the crowd, delivering drinks, and a lanky barkeep is kept busy by the continual orders. A burly, pockmarked man with a patch over one eye also stands behind the bar, occasionally shouting orders out to the wenches and servants.

 

[Scotley]

Verdis

As they stuggle through the crowd to find an open table Verdis notes to his nearest companions, "Seems like a lot of warriors for such a small village. I think we may find what we are looking for here." Finding a seat, Verdis orders an ale and tries to figure out where all the exits are just in case they find more trouble than they can handle.

 

[hafrogman]

Marco considers the bar with disdain. Hardly the kind of place he would want to spend an evening. He briefly considers ordering a glass of wine, but the he thinks about the quality and selection that will be available here. Supressing a shudder at the memories of house wines gone past, he instead orders a shot of whiskey. At least it should be able to disinfect the glass. . . probably an important consideration here.

He sits down at the table with Verdis and the others.

"So how do we proceed?"

 

[Rhun]

Drinks are quickly served by a slovenly but pretty barmaid, and Marco sees that his suspicions are correct: The ale is watered and the wine is sour, but at least the hard liqour is as potent as it should be. On the other hand, the drinks are cheap, at only a copper a piece.