Creamsteak
Explorer
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Begin introduction,
Afternoon is upon you, the sun is setting and the last Giant Beetle has left it’s stable. Why you came here is your own business, but it will be two weeks before you can leave by conventional means.
You find yourself stuck at the local tavern in this small farming community. Ale is cheap; only one copper for a mug, though watered down is the standard this far from civilization. You could order something called “The Harshest Crap in the Land,” but it costs a full 50 gold pieces. Also rumor has it that this very expensive drink is made from the ground up bodies of a certain race, some say kobolds, some say goblins, some say lycanthropes. The one orc that took a drink of this fluid is passed out in the corner, though you witnessed him go into a rage that lasted a full ten minutes after his drink.
The only distractions from the drinking are the occasional bar-tramps looking for enough money to get a ticket out of this pathetic little town. What they will do is only subject to the amount of money a person has.
Around the largest table you can see a group of three adventurers that look like a barrel of gunpowder exploded in the middle of them. Their armor is half melted, and their weapons are destroyed. They are shaken, and a bottle of the local ale is being passed among their group.
In a corner you can see quite the novelty bulletin board. You have yet to go check it, but it seems that a few farmers have already been tempted to read the papers, and seem to be quite excited about what they read.
There are a variety of different individuals in this bar who appear to be adventurers. They are all either extremely well armed, or extremely threatening looking. Some other individuals are scattered about the bar that don’t look like they belong in a farmer’s bar.
One of these men approaches you as he goes around the room. He is a Wood Elf by race, and likely a merchant by class. He speaks, “Greetings and Salutations, my name is Farnim. If you are interested, I could use someone like you. Just come around to the back of the bar when the moon is at its peak, and I’ll be waiting for you.”
The man’s offer is obviously not exclusive, as he is repeating that same phrase to everyone in the bar save for the tramps, farmers, and the barkeep. At one point he even trips and falls on his face into the crotch of the sleeping orc, promptly awakening him and inciting a confrontation. The man gets a good strike against his stomach from the orc before the orc promptly resumes sleeping.
It is half way between the setting of the sun and the hour that the elf requested you meet him. Though you have many hours to consider his offer, you can tell that time will pass quickly before the bar closes and you will be forced to make a choice about whether to spend the night at this bar, or to find yourself a comfortable inn bed.
Updated pretty regularly
Begin introduction,
Afternoon is upon you, the sun is setting and the last Giant Beetle has left it’s stable. Why you came here is your own business, but it will be two weeks before you can leave by conventional means.
You find yourself stuck at the local tavern in this small farming community. Ale is cheap; only one copper for a mug, though watered down is the standard this far from civilization. You could order something called “The Harshest Crap in the Land,” but it costs a full 50 gold pieces. Also rumor has it that this very expensive drink is made from the ground up bodies of a certain race, some say kobolds, some say goblins, some say lycanthropes. The one orc that took a drink of this fluid is passed out in the corner, though you witnessed him go into a rage that lasted a full ten minutes after his drink.
The only distractions from the drinking are the occasional bar-tramps looking for enough money to get a ticket out of this pathetic little town. What they will do is only subject to the amount of money a person has.
Around the largest table you can see a group of three adventurers that look like a barrel of gunpowder exploded in the middle of them. Their armor is half melted, and their weapons are destroyed. They are shaken, and a bottle of the local ale is being passed among their group.
In a corner you can see quite the novelty bulletin board. You have yet to go check it, but it seems that a few farmers have already been tempted to read the papers, and seem to be quite excited about what they read.
There are a variety of different individuals in this bar who appear to be adventurers. They are all either extremely well armed, or extremely threatening looking. Some other individuals are scattered about the bar that don’t look like they belong in a farmer’s bar.
One of these men approaches you as he goes around the room. He is a Wood Elf by race, and likely a merchant by class. He speaks, “Greetings and Salutations, my name is Farnim. If you are interested, I could use someone like you. Just come around to the back of the bar when the moon is at its peak, and I’ll be waiting for you.”
The man’s offer is obviously not exclusive, as he is repeating that same phrase to everyone in the bar save for the tramps, farmers, and the barkeep. At one point he even trips and falls on his face into the crotch of the sleeping orc, promptly awakening him and inciting a confrontation. The man gets a good strike against his stomach from the orc before the orc promptly resumes sleeping.
It is half way between the setting of the sun and the hour that the elf requested you meet him. Though you have many hours to consider his offer, you can tell that time will pass quickly before the bar closes and you will be forced to make a choice about whether to spend the night at this bar, or to find yourself a comfortable inn bed.
Updated pretty regularly
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