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Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 3: Shelter From The Storm

Bannock unconsciously gauges the subtleties in Bronwyn's face and body language during his response, being automatically wary of possible Ragesian agents, even in a small town like this.
 

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Hrimr steps out into the night outside the Inn. He takes a deep breath of the air and decides to walk around a bit. Although he enjoys the company and the revelry drinking at an Inn brings, some time alone with his thoughts is just what he needs right now.

Standing outside he looks around to see if anyone else is out on the streets.
 

Bannock fills his mug with some of Brondwyn's winnings, takes a long draught, and tells the tale of the party's journey through the forest. He tells of the fire-spirit in the stag, the creatures, always burning but never dying, the Seela, and the love triangle between Andariel, the nymph, and the dryad. He tells it boastfully, embellishing the danger and their feats of derring-do (his especially). He describes with glee Hrimr's transformation into a squid and the great magical explosion when the spirit was freed. He also tells of the devil who harried the party, without explaining exactly why, only that the Ragesians had made a pact with hell itself to kill all who oppose them. An hour and several more mugs of ale later, he closes with how, according to him, he singlehandedly defeated the Barbazu.

"...and after he went screamin' back to the nether pit he came from, he left this," he says, interrupting himself to retrieve the black glaive from the wall and show it to Brondwyn. "Just look at that metalwork! I'm keepin' this little lady. Almost killed me it did."
 

Alric smiles drunkenly at Brondwyn. He likes this dwarf. Doesn't matter if he would or not if he were sober, just right now he likes him.

"I would gladly tell you of some of our adventures, for free. But since you so earnestly offered a share of your winnings..." Alric's smile broadens. "Bannock, feel free to jump in with the details."

"We head to Lyceum on a mission. I'm not at liberty to divulge the nature of the mission, but know we head there on task for the resistance. The Ragesians know of us and our mission and they hunt us." Normally Alric would be cagey about the resistance and the mission, but the drink and the axe throwing game has disarmed him of any cautions. "Thrice they hunted us. The first time was with a mercenary group..." Alric goes into detail about their encounter with Kathor and the bloody massacre of the mercs. "Then one of their own inquisitors came after us. A ghastly shaman of terrible power..." Then details the encounter at the edge of the burning forest. "Then, the inquisitors resorted to contracting hell's minions, and we battled a bearded devil." And he talks of their encounters with the glaive weilding maniacal devil and eventually digresses to the Seela, and the entity that perpetuated the forest fires and how Hrimr and Kirio incited putting the fires out.

Throughout the telling of their journey, Alric drinks the Dram profusely and looks to Bannock to clarify or embellish details wherever appropriate. The timeline of the story's telling seems skewed as Alric seems to lament and focus on the thrilling moments of combat, and this exacerbated by drink the tale altogether, though entertaining, is thoroughly confusing. By the end, Alric excuses himself, gets up somewhat unsteadily and moves off to the privy to relieve himself of alot more dwarvish ale than any human has a right to consume.
 
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Hrimr steps out into the night outside the Inn. He takes a deep breath of the air and decides to walk around a bit. Although he enjoys the company and the revelry drinking at an Inn brings, some time alone with his thoughts is just what he needs right now.

Standing outside he looks around to see if anyone else is out on the streets.

Outside, while Alric is relieving himself in the gutter, he finds Hrimr looking around suspiciously into the night. "Hrimr my fine dwarvish friend! What are you looking for??" Says Alric with none too small a slur to his words.
 

Arnir hurriedly pulls out 2GP and tosses it to the innkeeper, additionally purchasing a flagon of wine and flipping the keeper another GP for his trouble. Taking his buxom half-elf companion around the waist, he retires to a rather palatial room for the evening and asks the girl if she wouldn't mind drawing a bath for him while he undresses, hastily and pours two goblets of wine.

"A good hot bath will do wonders, don't you think?"
 

Hrimr lets out a laugh when he hears Alric's slured words.

"Did you find the bottom of that keg? I just came out for some fresh air. Having a look around the the Inn to see if anyone else is out and about at this hour. A little vigilance can go a long way sometimes. So, who won the game?"
 

Brondwyn listens to Bannock's tale, with the occasional slurred input from Alric, over a few tankards of ale. At the end he slams his fist down on the table and cries out: "By tha anvil 'n hammer of tha Soul Forger! Boy, tha may be tha best tale this ere dwarf has e'er heard!"

He examines the devil's glaive and says: "Tis a fine piece o' work it is. Me brother Dendin be tha smith in town and mayhaps he can tell ye more 'bout it. I'll be tellin' him to give ye and yer friends a good deal on any weapons n' armor ye may need. You'll also wanna be seein' Baegor Comsen, the shrewd ol' codger who runs tha general store fer supplies, and there be a market each morning in town fer food n' other goods. If ye be lookin' fer horses er carts n' such, you'll need to head up to tha keep n' speak to tha master o' tha stables, Orwin Hanker. Payin' compliment to the pedigree o' his horses'll get ye in good wit him. While yer there, yer elven mage friend may wanna see tha Baron's wizard, Thomas Argole of Glaskeel who was 'pprentice to the fair Lady Timor they say. Lastly, there be a small shrine to Chauntea in town and the priestess there goes by tha name o' Jessica Ralmat."

Brondwyn stands up a little shakily and checks for his purse and gear by patting himself down. Satisfied, he drains the last of his tankard and says: "Well a fine evening to ya'll. This ere dwarf is gonna have an earful when he stumbles in home to a crank of a wife. I can just hear her now, shriekin' like a goblin war horn. More deadly than me axe she is ... though half as sharp ey boys? Well I'll be off. If yer still in town, I'll see ya's ere in the evenin'."

Brondwyn, and many of the other patrons have begun to file out, while a few people seem to be spending the night on the floor of the tavern. The Innkeeper begins to send hot water and soap up to your rooms and wishes you all a pleasant rest.
 

Bannock goes back to their room upstairs, leans the black glaive with the rest of his weapons, and finally takes off his armour, which by now hardly smells good. He uses the hot water to fill the bathtub, then soaps up the water. He slides into his first bath since before entering Innenotdar, rests his head on the edge of the tub, and falls asleep in the water.
 

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