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[D&D 5e 2024] Heroes of the Borderlands
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 9771011" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 6</p><p></p><p>The tavern was called the Drunken Dragon, and it was busy. Busier by far than the tavern back in Dunwillow, with soldiers, merchants, and weary travelers of all sorts filling out the dozen or so tables scattered around the taproom, or seated at one of the tall stools in front of the bar like Grimdark. When he asked the bartender—a tall, muscular black human—for an ale, the man quickly poured it for him before hurrying off to fulfill another order.</p><p></p><p>The warrior sipped the ale. It was good, and the mug was generously sized, holding more than a pint. He took a few swallows, which eased the rumbling in his stomach slightly. There was a swinging side door that clearly led into a kitchen, and the smells coming from there were becoming increasingly seductive.</p><p></p><p>“Get you something else?” the bartender asked, startling him out of his reverie.</p><p></p><p>“Um, yeah, what do you have to eat?”</p><p></p><p>The bartender pulled a thin piece of wood out from between several of the casks lined up behind the bar. It had a piece of parchment attached to it, which the warrior saw was a menu when the man handed it to him.</p><p></p><p>As soon as he saw the descriptions—and the prices—his eyes widened. “A gold piece for the ale?”</p><p></p><p>The man nodded. “That’s what it costs.” He leaned forward and placed both hands on the bar. If he was intimidated by the warrior’s armor and sword, he didn’t show it. “You should know, if people can’t settle their tabs, they have to work it off.” He nodded toward the kitchen door, where the constant sounds of activity had taken on a slightly malevolent tone.</p><p></p><p>“I can pay,” the warrior said. He fumbled out his purse and took out two of the coins that Cornflower had given him and laid them on the bar. “I’ll take the bottomless soup.”</p><p></p><p>“Good choice,” the man said. He swept up the coins and turned to help another customer. The warrior just stared at his mug.</p><p></p><p>“Welcome to a gold-based frontier economy,” a voice said.</p><p></p><p>The warrior turned and blinked in surprise to see a halfling woman standing on the stool next to him. She was leaning against the bar, holding a teacup that was almost half the size of her head. “This place is so far from anything, it costs a fortune just to ship supplies and necessary goods," she continued. "So prices are…” she raised a thumb toward the ceiling and nodded at the menu board that the bartender had left behind.</p><p></p><p>“So… everyone here has gold?”</p><p></p><p>The halfling sipped at her tea and put the cup down. She was stronger than her size would suggest, he thought. “There was a gold rush out in these parts, oh… about forty-five years ago now,” she said. “Huge influx of prospectors and treasure-seekers. Most of what they found made its way back to the civilized lands to the west, as such things happen. But enough remained out here to sustain a non-barter economy.” She held up a fat five-mark coin, spinning it to reveal the number stamped into its back. The front held another animal, but he couldn’t see what it was before she tucked it back into her purse. “I’m Leana,” she said. “You’re welcome to join us, share our meal.”</p><p></p><p>“Us?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>“Me and two other adventurers—like yourself,” she said. “Assuming you know how to handle that cleaver of yours?”</p><p></p><p>He realized she was referring to his sword. “What? Of course I do!”</p><p></p><p>She laughed and held up her hands. “Easy now, I didn’t mean anything by it. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others. Mind bringing that?”</p><p></p><p>She got down off the stool—he realized that the frame was designed to serve as a ladder for someone small like her—and started across the room. The warrior took her tea and his ale and followed her. For a moment he lost her in the press of patrons, then emerged to find a small table pressed in against the back wall, at the far end of the bar.</p><p></p><p>There were two men seated there, who looked up as he approached. One was an elf, rail-thin with a shock of wild brown hair that accentuated his hazel eyes. He was clad in a rugged coat of boiled leather and was armed with a small sword, dagger, and shortbow, all the weapons within easy reach. The other adventurer was a dwarf, whose own hair and beard made the elf look fashionably coiffed by comparison. He wore a robe that looked to be more patches and thread than original fabric, and was not armed, at least as far as the warrior could tell. An assortment of books and scrolls were spread out on the table in front of him, which he gathered a bit protectively as they arrived.</p><p></p><p>“This is Ravani, and Folgar,” Leana said. She skipped forward and vaulted up onto one of the vacant chairs. “And this is…”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, Grimdark,” he said, as he remembered that he hadn’t yet give the halfling woman his name.</p><p></p><p>“Grimdark,” the elf said. “Really.” He snorted in amusement.</p><p></p><p>“You’re hardly in a position to mock, <em>Whisperleaf</em>,” Leana chided.</p><p></p><p>The elf settled back in his chair, and lifted his boots onto the table in front of the fourth and final chair. “That is a good elvish name with a vaunted pedigree,” he said. He shifted his gaze to the warrior. “What happened to your goat?”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, that’s it!” Leana exclaimed. “I <em>knew</em> I’d seen you before!”</p><p></p><p>“Goat?” Folgar asked, blinking.</p><p></p><p>“I, ah, was helping someone in the town,” the warrior said.</p><p></p><p>“This place is lousy with ‘quests,’” Ravani said. “But we’re not here to scramble for pennies.”</p><p></p><p>“The barn girl gave me three gold for finding her goats,” the warrior said.</p><p></p><p>“Well, then your career is set,” Ravani said. He made a shooing motion with one hand, but Leana said, “We need a fighter.”</p><p></p><p>“Leana, you should have consulted with us before making an offer,” Folgar said. “Especially if it involves splitting the treasure four ways rather than three.”</p><p></p><p>“Here, here,” Ravani said.</p><p></p><p>“Treasure?” the warrior asked.</p><p></p><p>“Sure you’ve heard the term, Grimmy,” the elf said. “Gold coins, precious gemstones, even magical items, perhaps." He waggled his fingers suggestively. "And I’m with Folgar, a three-way split is bad enough.”</p><p></p><p>“Come on,” Leana said. “We need a fighter. Unless either of you is willing to stand in the front rank, taking hits and protecting the others? He’s got height, heavy armor, and look at the size of that sword!”</p><p></p><p>“I’ve always heard that it’s not the size of the blade, but the skill in wielding it that counts,” Ravani said.</p><p></p><p>Folgar adjusted his stack of papers. The warrior could see that the top one contained a rough sketch of the region. “What say you, warrior?” he asked. "Are you prepared to stand between us and danger? To hold the line and protect your comrades from harm?”</p><p></p><p>All three of them looked at him, and he felt a sudden tension in his chest. This was it, the moment he’d thought about ever since… what had happened in Dunwillow. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I am ready.”</p><p></p><p>“Fine, fine,” Ravani said. “Whatever. A suppose a meat shield might come in handy at that. Tell me, Grimmy, you ever withstood a dragon's breath?”</p><p></p><p>“I… what… dragon?”</p><p></p><p>He was saved from having to come up with a further response by the arrival of the tavernkeeper, who placed down a bowl of soup, a spoon, and an end of bread on the edge of the table. The sight and smell of the meal drove all other thoughts from the warrior’s head, and he tucked into it with gusto.</p><p></p><p>“Anything else for you?” the tavernkeeper asked the others.</p><p></p><p>“Another drink for each of us?” Ravani asked. “New guy buys the round, that’s the rule.”</p><p></p><p>The warrior looked up from his soup at that, a look of panic on his face, but Leana shook her head. “We can pay for our own drinks,” she said. “I think we’re good here,” she said. “Say… what’s with the cake on the menu? I saw it was crossed out.”</p><p></p><p>The tavernkeeper sighed. “Can’t seem to get the ingredients. Whenever I put in an order, it gets seized by goblins, roadside bandits—you name it. I guess everybody likes dessert.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, if we run into any bandits out there, we’ll keep an eye out for sacks of sugar and chocolate chips,” Ravani said.</p><p></p><p>The tavernkeeper started to turn away, but the warrior held up his now empty bowl for a refill.</p><p></p><p>“Well, if he fights as well as he eats, we might have something,” Ravani said.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 9771011, member: 143"] Chapter 6 The tavern was called the Drunken Dragon, and it was busy. Busier by far than the tavern back in Dunwillow, with soldiers, merchants, and weary travelers of all sorts filling out the dozen or so tables scattered around the taproom, or seated at one of the tall stools in front of the bar like Grimdark. When he asked the bartender—a tall, muscular black human—for an ale, the man quickly poured it for him before hurrying off to fulfill another order. The warrior sipped the ale. It was good, and the mug was generously sized, holding more than a pint. He took a few swallows, which eased the rumbling in his stomach slightly. There was a swinging side door that clearly led into a kitchen, and the smells coming from there were becoming increasingly seductive. “Get you something else?” the bartender asked, startling him out of his reverie. “Um, yeah, what do you have to eat?” The bartender pulled a thin piece of wood out from between several of the casks lined up behind the bar. It had a piece of parchment attached to it, which the warrior saw was a menu when the man handed it to him. As soon as he saw the descriptions—and the prices—his eyes widened. “A gold piece for the ale?” The man nodded. “That’s what it costs.” He leaned forward and placed both hands on the bar. If he was intimidated by the warrior’s armor and sword, he didn’t show it. “You should know, if people can’t settle their tabs, they have to work it off.” He nodded toward the kitchen door, where the constant sounds of activity had taken on a slightly malevolent tone. “I can pay,” the warrior said. He fumbled out his purse and took out two of the coins that Cornflower had given him and laid them on the bar. “I’ll take the bottomless soup.” “Good choice,” the man said. He swept up the coins and turned to help another customer. The warrior just stared at his mug. “Welcome to a gold-based frontier economy,” a voice said. The warrior turned and blinked in surprise to see a halfling woman standing on the stool next to him. She was leaning against the bar, holding a teacup that was almost half the size of her head. “This place is so far from anything, it costs a fortune just to ship supplies and necessary goods," she continued. "So prices are…” she raised a thumb toward the ceiling and nodded at the menu board that the bartender had left behind. “So… everyone here has gold?” The halfling sipped at her tea and put the cup down. She was stronger than her size would suggest, he thought. “There was a gold rush out in these parts, oh… about forty-five years ago now,” she said. “Huge influx of prospectors and treasure-seekers. Most of what they found made its way back to the civilized lands to the west, as such things happen. But enough remained out here to sustain a non-barter economy.” She held up a fat five-mark coin, spinning it to reveal the number stamped into its back. The front held another animal, but he couldn’t see what it was before she tucked it back into her purse. “I’m Leana,” she said. “You’re welcome to join us, share our meal.” “Us?” he asked. “Me and two other adventurers—like yourself,” she said. “Assuming you know how to handle that cleaver of yours?” He realized she was referring to his sword. “What? Of course I do!” She laughed and held up her hands. “Easy now, I didn’t mean anything by it. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others. Mind bringing that?” She got down off the stool—he realized that the frame was designed to serve as a ladder for someone small like her—and started across the room. The warrior took her tea and his ale and followed her. For a moment he lost her in the press of patrons, then emerged to find a small table pressed in against the back wall, at the far end of the bar. There were two men seated there, who looked up as he approached. One was an elf, rail-thin with a shock of wild brown hair that accentuated his hazel eyes. He was clad in a rugged coat of boiled leather and was armed with a small sword, dagger, and shortbow, all the weapons within easy reach. The other adventurer was a dwarf, whose own hair and beard made the elf look fashionably coiffed by comparison. He wore a robe that looked to be more patches and thread than original fabric, and was not armed, at least as far as the warrior could tell. An assortment of books and scrolls were spread out on the table in front of him, which he gathered a bit protectively as they arrived. “This is Ravani, and Folgar,” Leana said. She skipped forward and vaulted up onto one of the vacant chairs. “And this is…” “Ah, Grimdark,” he said, as he remembered that he hadn’t yet give the halfling woman his name. “Grimdark,” the elf said. “Really.” He snorted in amusement. “You’re hardly in a position to mock, [I]Whisperleaf[/I],” Leana chided. The elf settled back in his chair, and lifted his boots onto the table in front of the fourth and final chair. “That is a good elvish name with a vaunted pedigree,” he said. He shifted his gaze to the warrior. “What happened to your goat?” “Ah, that’s it!” Leana exclaimed. “I [I]knew[/I] I’d seen you before!” “Goat?” Folgar asked, blinking. “I, ah, was helping someone in the town,” the warrior said. “This place is lousy with ‘quests,’” Ravani said. “But we’re not here to scramble for pennies.” “The barn girl gave me three gold for finding her goats,” the warrior said. “Well, then your career is set,” Ravani said. He made a shooing motion with one hand, but Leana said, “We need a fighter.” “Leana, you should have consulted with us before making an offer,” Folgar said. “Especially if it involves splitting the treasure four ways rather than three.” “Here, here,” Ravani said. “Treasure?” the warrior asked. “Sure you’ve heard the term, Grimmy,” the elf said. “Gold coins, precious gemstones, even magical items, perhaps." He waggled his fingers suggestively. "And I’m with Folgar, a three-way split is bad enough.” “Come on,” Leana said. “We need a fighter. Unless either of you is willing to stand in the front rank, taking hits and protecting the others? He’s got height, heavy armor, and look at the size of that sword!” “I’ve always heard that it’s not the size of the blade, but the skill in wielding it that counts,” Ravani said. Folgar adjusted his stack of papers. The warrior could see that the top one contained a rough sketch of the region. “What say you, warrior?” he asked. "Are you prepared to stand between us and danger? To hold the line and protect your comrades from harm?” All three of them looked at him, and he felt a sudden tension in his chest. This was it, the moment he’d thought about ever since… what had happened in Dunwillow. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I am ready.” “Fine, fine,” Ravani said. “Whatever. A suppose a meat shield might come in handy at that. Tell me, Grimmy, you ever withstood a dragon's breath?” “I… what… dragon?” He was saved from having to come up with a further response by the arrival of the tavernkeeper, who placed down a bowl of soup, a spoon, and an end of bread on the edge of the table. The sight and smell of the meal drove all other thoughts from the warrior’s head, and he tucked into it with gusto. “Anything else for you?” the tavernkeeper asked the others. “Another drink for each of us?” Ravani asked. “New guy buys the round, that’s the rule.” The warrior looked up from his soup at that, a look of panic on his face, but Leana shook her head. “We can pay for our own drinks,” she said. “I think we’re good here,” she said. “Say… what’s with the cake on the menu? I saw it was crossed out.” The tavernkeeper sighed. “Can’t seem to get the ingredients. Whenever I put in an order, it gets seized by goblins, roadside bandits—you name it. I guess everybody likes dessert.” “Well, if we run into any bandits out there, we’ll keep an eye out for sacks of sugar and chocolate chips,” Ravani said. The tavernkeeper started to turn away, but the warrior held up his now empty bowl for a refill. “Well, if he fights as well as he eats, we might have something,” Ravani said. [/QUOTE]
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