As the morning wears on the Dunn Wright fills rapidly. Fishermen, scoundrels, laborers, fishwives, they all gather here for a little liquid refreshment and mingle with those of a more mercenary bent who have, of late, begun giving the Dunn Wright a reputation as
the place to go to hire such.
One prominent table, emblazoned with the red print of a large hand, has a young bravo bearing the same red hand symbol on the left breast of his leather armor seated at it and carrying on a conversation with a gnome and a half-elf while a female gnome at the same table leans over to speak with a human man at the next. The man conversing with the female gnome is saying something about his ‘Onkel’ and is, based upon the thick dialect of common he speaks, from one of the distant Baronies, perhaps near the mountains.
Despite the general hubbub when the door to the seaward landing swings open and crashes against the wall there is a sudden and momentary silence. The woman standing in the door is probably a fishwife judging by the state of her scale-flecked clothes, the reek of fresh fish, and the tracery of fine white scars that adorn her gnarled hands.
Dem half’ings is gonna give dat boy wot for!
As abruptly as she arrives she dashes back out onto the landing. Now that attention has been brought to it, the room can hear muffled voices yelling just outside the inn. Several patrons near the door get up and leave eager for a bit of mid-day entertainment.
[sblock=RECRUITING]I am now recruiting four first or second level characters (with at least one approval) for a short adventure. If you are interested in having your character join the adventure have your character exit to the landing
HERE.[/sblock]
