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

[Uriel]

The doors of the red Dragon swing open, allowing a gust of wind in along with the light rain from the abatting storm. Two stout figures move in,swaddled in scarves and fur-lined cloaks. Removing caps, both are seen to be young Dwarves, short beards of brown wrapped in silver wire. Taking a table, the two look about nervously and with heavy lidded eyes, as if they had slept very fitfully as-of-late.
Awaiting a waiter/ress, they are startled when the barman yells out 'Yer names gentlemen, we are a cordial lot and we like to know who drinks with us...' One of the dwarfs clears his throat and says 'I be Urgan Jasperfist. ' The other Dwarf continued to look about with an almost wild expression upon his face until (seeing the barman still waiting),his companion clapped him on the head lightly, breaking his reverie.'I b...I b..b...be Alg..gg..Algram Ja..Ja..Jasperfist' The latter speaker clearly had some problem with his speech. The Barman nodded and waved a waitress over who took the order of the pair. A moment later, sipping hot spiced wine, the Dwarves set about surveying the Inn. The eyes of Algram set upon Rurik and Sturm and then Thurgan and he excitedly tapped the other Dwarf,pointing in (what he must have thought was) an inconspicuous manner. Urgan nodded silently and stood, making his way over towards the other Dwarves...

Edit:Anal spelling edit.
Edit:Shut Up, dpdx...

 

[nimisgod]

A minute or two after the young dwarves' entrance comes the entry of a dark haired halfling dressed in knightly surcoat and ragged blue cloak. A mail hauberk can be seen amongst the folds of his clothing, with the mark of an Orussus smith upon it. Eyes, piercingly blue, scan the area for friends and comrades.

"Fair greetings to all" he says with a slight smile to all that looked to his entrance.

Sir Ishmael moves to and sits upon a seat close to those he knows and fought beside. "An ale, good barkeep." he requests with some grace and civility "Travel from St. Feragon's sanctuary hath made mine throat a desert to be watered." He takes note of the commotion in the room and looks on with interest.

Those who take a good look at the young knight notice a wand tucked into his belt, this one carved with runes of healing and curing. Also, "Violet" seems finer and "different". Experience with weapon craftsmanship would tell an onlooker that the warhammer was reforged into mastercraft quality.

 

[doghead]

"...an' that confirms my idea." Troi says, nodding. "Tell th' merchants that, in addition to th' up-front cash, we'll need a wagon, an' some horses, an' some merchandise. We're gonna lure 'em inta attackin' us. See if th' merchants'll throw in some manacles, too, in case we get some alive."

He looks to Jaan. "Hell," He smiles, "we could be done by th' end a th' day."

"I thought along those line as well, but think that the idea has some problems. Not the least being convincing the Guild to provide wagon and such.

"If they are cautious, they won't be attacking anything they don't know. We might get away with two trips through the woods, but after that, it would look very suspicious. And it would only take one person to talk to ruin the whole idea.

"Unless they are stupid or careless, they will have only a couple of people approach the wagon while the rest stand back with bows and such ready to disuade anyone from getting ideas. To get the jump on them, we would need several people similarly armed, hidden in the wagon, I think.

"An alternative may be to let someone else be the bait, and once its taken, we track them back to where they are hiding. We could either ride with a merchant, or follow one. That way we can choose the where and when of the fight."

 

[Keia]

Thurgan took his dwarven ale from the barkeep with thanks, then headed over to the table where Troi and Velbrik were speaking. He nodded in greeting, not wanting to interrupt the conversation - it appeared that they were preparing to head out on a job.

For Thurgan, he was interested in starting up is smithy - though his seed money may be a little low. He had some ideas on how to improve on that - perhaps a partnership with some fellow dwarves. He moved to the table where Rurik and Sturm were already drinking steadily

"Greetin', good health an' strong steel ta ya. Mind if'n I have a seat, looks like I got some catchin' up ta do," Thurgan said as a greeting as he stood by their table.

When the young dwarves entered, Thurgan was somewhat taken aback - he was almost that age when he was apprenticed from his clan to Master Drewer . . . many, many years ago. Thurgan flipped a chair around, sitting with his chest against its back.

"Greetin' lad," Thurgan said to Urgan, "what brings ya ta this neck of the woods?"

 

[GnomeWorks]

Jaan
"I thought along those line as well, but think that the idea has some problems. Not the least being convincing the Guild to provide wagon and such."

"If they want th' attacks ta stop," Troi says, "then they'll give us what we need. Not like we're gonna keep it, or somethin'."

Jaan
"If they are cautious, they won't be attacking anything they don't know. We might get away with two trips through the woods, but after that, it would look very suspicious. And it would only take one person to talk to ruin the whole idea."

"It didn't sound like they're that good." Troi says, shaking his head. "I kinda doubt that most of 'em're bright enough ta figure it out. Their leader might, but I dunno."

Jaan
"Unless they are stupid or careless, they will have only a couple of people approach the wagon while the rest stand back with bows and such ready to disuade anyone from getting ideas. To get the jump on them, we would need several people similarly armed, hidden in the wagon, I think."

"That was my line a thinkin'. We get one person on th' wagon, visible, and whoever else is goin' hides out in the wagon. When they approach th' wagon, we nail 'em."

Jaan
"An alternative may be to let someone else be the bait, and once its taken, we track them back to where they are hiding. We could either ride with a merchant, or follow one. That way we can choose the where and when of the fight."

"We're already choosin' th' where an' when, by takin' 'em by surprise." Troi says. "I could track 'em, if we go with that route, though."

 

[doghead]

"Say there are half a dozen of them. Two on the road to stop the wagon, probably where the road is narrow or the wagon can't turn around. The other four out of sight around the ambush site, but within easy bowshot. Behind trees, that sort of thing. So far it hasn't been bloody, that would suggest that they ask first. It also suggests that they have sufficent "obvious" strength to have disuaded anyone from trying to put up a fight.

"How many people do you think we would we need in the wagon to take them out before they can do it to us? Even asssuming that we have a spellcaster with us.

"I think that we should talk to the Guild and find out a little more about who, how and where.

"The whole just a few scruffy ruffians story just doesn't sit right ... If they are so obvious, surely the Guild or the Watch would have tried this already.

Jaan tails off into silence for a moment.

"Back home there was a stable hand. Give him handful of coin and an evening and he could find out the most interesting of things. If Joe knows someone like that ... a few coins and day spent now could save our hides later."

Jaan stops. He realises that he may be sounding a little paranoid. He shakes his head, as if to clear it, then looks Troi square in the eye.

"I realise that you don't know me, and have no particular reason to believe me. But, ... it just doesn't feel right somehow."

 

[Uriel]

Looking at the Dwarves (and Halfling,whom he takes a brief appraising interest in), Urgan takes the <implied> offer of a seat and a word or two.
Calling for more of whatever these flk are drinking, the young Dwarf removes several freshly minted gold coins from his pouch and offers them,smilingly (if a bit nervously) to the barmaid.

With a glance towards the other Dwarf (who is fingering the haft of a Warhammer absently as he sits alone at his table), Urgan begins 'As I say'd, I be Urgan Jasperfist, of Stonepike Manse.
Stonepike, it is a common and (recently) oft-mentioned place. The Dwarves from that Hold had been recently gearing up for a major offensive from the Empire of Carduth to the East. Along with the men of Bainlund, the Stonepike Dwarves have been successful (so far...) in keeping the Carduthians at bay.
Urgan continues ' We come, that be, m'Brother an'I, we come on a mission most Dire. fer th'last week an'a few days more, something has been haunting the Halls o' the Gorim <Dw:Lord>. Killing folk, one a night, leaving the most hideous bodies, mut'lated beyond belief. We searched and searched,but...n'thin did we e'er find 'cept fer the bodies. Some in the Halls have 'eard a hissin sound late at night, and a wailing shriek. Still, thet leaves n'thin fer us ta kill,n'thin ta do ta end this. The Gorim's Chamberlain 'as finally convinced Gorim Stonepike ta send fer aid, an here we be. Naturally, I headed fer the red Dragon, as it's reputation is a good and far one.I spotted you folks and decided thet maybe you'd be a good place t' start. We 'ave been authorized to offer th' promise o 5,000 Gold Marks, along with the eternal gratitude o the Stonepike family if'n ya choose to answer our callfer it.'

Urgan sips his drink and looks from one face to another, seeking some sign of what is behind your eyes.

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

Vagan clears his throat. "Will you be needing me any more?" he asks, shifting his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again. "If you think of anything else, I'm stationed at the watch station on the corner of Livingstone and Broadstroke."

 

[nimisgod]

The Deep Halfling frowned at first. This matter did not appear to concern the hunt for the Kroggothite Druid at all. He briefly considered declining but the plight of the dwarves as well as the mention of the murderous beast caught his interest.

"Vicious and bloodthirsty acts such as these should never go unpunished. My mentor, the dwarf Paladin Sir Mazan Ironforge, would never let this pass and neither would I." Sir Ishmael puts his right hand over his breast "I accept the task, honor-bound to see it to its end or perish in the attempt."

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Sturm raises his eyebrows. "Five thousands o' glinty? An' in service o' folk worth servin', no less. Call that 'greed at on my end. Rurik? Ye game?"

He looks over at Ishmael, who has already accepted, and grins, absentmindedly picking the scab on his lip as he does so.

"Ye'll be along then? Good word, that. Mind if'n I nominate ye redeemer o' disputes and decider o' things what need decidin' 'ere from startin'? Not tha' it kills me not takin' orders, but tryin'n 'ave some big ol' group o' wags get things figured makes me 'ead 'urt twice vexin'."