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

[Scorpio]

D'Artagnon has a look of bewilderment on his face as he again approaches the bar.He lets out a sarcastic sigh." Just when you think you've seen it all...hmmm...raises the man from the dead but not quite enough to get the word 'bilgepump' out...grown men eating cookies...
"Right then Joe, how's about another round for all, on me, and I'll settle up with ya."
He turns to the others.
"Well Gurian, I'm with you on this, count me in. We should get moving before the trail gets cold!"

 

[Ruined]

"Yes. I'm with the two of you," Kristoff says, moving to stand beside the two men. "It feels like a good thing to do, even if it's the only choice we seem to have."

 

[neoweasel]

"That's good to hear," Gurian says, "Izra? Are you with us, or do you want to make your own way in this?"

[OOCI may not be able to update until Monday. I will try to, but I don't know how much I'll be home and have access to my computer this weekend.[/OOC]

 

[Jack Haggerty]

Joe sets out another round at the request of D'Artagnan.

OOC: Once you guys are ready to leave the Inn, post here.

 

[Scorpio]

D'Artagnon gulps down one of the ales, adjusts his cloak and belt, and walks towards the door.
"Right then Gents, shall we head out? Gurian, where do you suggest we start? And does anyone need any provisioning before we go? We don't know what sort of ditch we may stumble into here! Oy!"

[OOC-Need to square up with Joe, 2-3 gold do it?]

 

[neoweasel]

OOC: Already posted on the new thread.

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

*dons DM hat*

The door opens once more, the cool win blowing in heralding a new arrival to the tavern. Even in the dim light from the torches lighting the tavern, the man’s armor shines with the glow of obsessive polishing. After everyone gets past the initial flash of light, they’ll notice that it’s a boy rather than a man, probably not even past his eighteenth year, and that he wears the uniform of the city guard of Orussus. His face simultaneously conveys both nervousness and painful earnestness. He gives Joe a sharp salute which Joe acknowledges with a small nod and a smile. Clinking softly as he moves, he turns to the assembled patrons.

“I am Officer Vagan of the Orussus city guard,” he says proudly in the voice of someone who only recently has switched from the soprano section of the choir. I’ve come here to offer a commission to any who wish to take it. There’s been some trouble with bandits in the woods to the north.” He points to a nearby table. “I’ve been ordered to wait here for a span. Come talk with me if you’re interested.” And with that, the young man sits down, blushingly accepting an ale from a serving girl.

 

[doghead]

Shortly after, the door bursts open again and a wet bloodied man bearing a small bundle on his shoulder enters. A child? He walks, no, perhaps staggers would be more appropriate, across the room to the bar.

"I am Jaan Saaresar and I am back. I am cold and wet, tired and grumpy."

He lowers the small figure, none too gently, onto the bar.

"This stinking bundle of bones needs a bed and food. He has lost alot of blood as far as I can tell. A hard pallet and rough blanket will do, as will hard bread and cheese. I have no great affection for him.

"And I too need a room, for I would change out of these clothes. And a hot meal would be nice ..."

Jaan collapse onto rather than sits down on one of the bar stools.

"I have coin."

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

Officer Vagan looks breifly shocked at the man's dramatic entrance; upon recovery, something (perhaps a sense of duty, perhaps altruistic tendencies, or perhaps morbid curisoity) causes him to stand and approach Jaan. He clears his throat politely before speaking carefully to the bedraggled man. "Excuse me, sir, may I ask what happened?" He looks down at Jaan with painful earnestness. It is, all things considered, a rather measured inquiry.

 

[doghead]

As Jaan turns to reply, Officer Vagan gets the feeling that the man was going to say something other than what he does before he notices who stands beside him. Blood, old blood, soaks through bandages around his neck and the exposed skin of his face and arms is covered with small cuts slashes. The neck and shoulders of his clothes are stained pink, blood rinsed from the wounds by the rain.

"I am Jaan Saaresar. I and few others took this gnomes' commision to sort out a problem in his tower. We never made it into the tower itself. We were attacked by these."

Upon which Jaan pulls a small dead flying creature from his pouch and dumps it on the bar beside the motionless bundle of rags he had indicated to be the gnome. The dead creature, upon closer inspection, has a nasty long sucking device for a mouth and cruel talons.

"Yes. They suck blood. They took a fair bit of mine. And had taken a considerable amount of the gnomes' if I guess right. By the time they were all dispatched, the gnome was unconscious again. It was about the third or fourth time. I can't remember exactly.

"It seemed appropriate to make a strategic retreat at that point."