(Tavern) City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn II

[Jack Haggerty]

"Jack, I'd really appreciate it if you would stop doubting my intelligence. Blasting of the house is impossible, unless I acquire some non magical way to blast the house or hire a terribly expensive wizard to do the blasting for me. There is no way I can affect the house..."

"Nothing to do with your intelligence or my doubts, Mr. Audron," the halfling reassures him, "Even the flashest wizard can overlook the quickest, easiest and simplest solutions. Best to make certain they've been tried, so's not to waste our time with them.

"Speaking of which, are there any tricks or trumps this fellow uses? Or any thugs or beasties he keeps on a leash?"

"I agree that a man's time is valuable. Should you not find enough evidence to kill him, I shall compensate your efforts though. I do, however, require my spell back. You can have a hundred gold pieces for investigating, four hundred for retrieval of the spell and the full five hundred if you avenge the death of my friend. Is that acceptable?"

"Suits me just fine... Still better than rat-catching, eh?"

"This I can agree with." He turns to the other group and says "I think we have discussed all that we need to discuss at this point. Are you ready to go?"

"Ready as I will be," Jack agrees, finishing off that second bottle of whiskey. "Lead the way, Mr. Audron."

 

[Someone]

One guy, young and dressed in grey modest clothes talks to many of you in turn, in low voice: "Would you like a map? True treasure maps from the forest of Ar. Taken from an orc warband!"

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Aye, I am ready. I simply need to retrieve some things from my room at the inn, and we may depart."

 

[Jack Haggerty]

One guy, young and dressed in grey modest clothes talks to many of you in turn, in low voice: "Would you like a map? True treasure maps from the forest of Ar. Taken from an orc warband!"

"Sure thing, pal," Jack says as he pulls a strip of dried meat from his pack, waving it before the solicitor's face. "I'll tell you what... I'll trade you that map for the preserved tongue of holy St. Brentford. Guaranteed to bring you the all the blessings of the saint, and to carry your prayers directly to the gods themselves as if voiced from his very own blessed mouth."

 

[Mithreander]

Quickwhip smiles at the exchange with the solicitor. Society has a way of enforcing standards of moral even without enforcement agencies, like the Swordsmen around.

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

Fant bids them farewell, agreeing to meet them outside the Tavern. She heads over to the building nearby that houses the Inn associated with the Red Dragon. She dons her armor and gauntlets and pens a quick letter to her uncle, to be delivered in the case of her death. Then she collects her backpack- mostly intact, since she has just arrived- and heads down to meet the others in front of the tavern. She sits out of the rain in the small shelter provided by the inn entrance. Torches have been lit outside the entrance to illuminate it in the dying light.

 

[Mithreander]

Quickwhip meets Fant outside and looks around at the rain, feeling the cold directly. "Seems the Goddess is pleased and wants to share herself with us. He holds out his hand to collect a sample of the rain water and brings it to his lips to drink. He smiles as he lowers his hands, letting the remaining water drip to the ground from his fingers. "A beautiful day, though a little cold for my tastes."

 

[Janos Audron]

[ (Adventure) Slaying the Dreamer thread anyone ]

 

[jasamcarl]

Draven looks bored with the talk of politics, "Plans and details be the enslaver of man and the righteous. Take us to these sorcerers and let Grendath tell us who has the right of it....Either way, I suspect that this country of yours be a place submerged in tyranny..." He finishes his ale and smiles, "Are we about ready?"

 

[Someone]

"Sure thing, pal," Jack says as he pulls a strip of dried meat from his pack, waving it before the solicitor's face. "I'll tell you what... I'll trade you that map for the preserved tongue of holy St. Brentford. Guaranteed to bring you the all the blessings of the saint, and to carry your prayers directly to the gods themselves as if voiced from his very own blessed mouth."

The man (better said the boy) takes the meat -or attempts to- "I´ll take the tongue, sir." says "Since they say it brings, hmmm, peace of spirit to the hungry."

He leaves the map on the table and dissapears as quick as his legs allow him.

Once you examine the map, you realice in a single glance that you could barely find a town with it, let alone a treasure: it´s so badly painted and has several enormous red crosses on it.

"What a piece of crap" says the barman glancing over your shoulder. "But rumours float about that forest, it´s not the first time I hear about it. Maybe a group of unemployed adventurers could investigate it while they wait for a better opportunity."

[Yes, it´s an adventure waiting for players! from two to five, frequently posting]