The Dragon's Jaw Inn
- Thread starter Northman
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Northman
First Post
Fat Tom shouts out, "A round of beer for the house, on the dragonslayers!"
The room errupts into a roarous cheer. "Huzzah!" "Adenan bless the dragonslayers!" Someone shouts, "Beer and wenches on the dragonslayers!"
Fat Tom waves his arms and shouts, "No wenches! No wenches!"
A few people groan in disapointment and Fat Tom shakes his head. "Dirty degenerates..." he mumbles. It is the first time you've ever heard him say anything that wasn't pleasant.
The beer begins flowing and Peter takes out his mandolin. After a quick tuning, he begins to play a quick upbeat tune. The entire coomon room begins to clap together as Peter belts out a drinking song in a voice much louder that you would think himself capable of.
Pretty soon the entire room is clapping, shouting, singing, and stomping their feet. You can't help but join in. The song is downright infectious! Something about a girl with three goats and a mean father who hates her true love.
The room errupts into a roarous cheer. "Huzzah!" "Adenan bless the dragonslayers!" Someone shouts, "Beer and wenches on the dragonslayers!"
Fat Tom waves his arms and shouts, "No wenches! No wenches!"
A few people groan in disapointment and Fat Tom shakes his head. "Dirty degenerates..." he mumbles. It is the first time you've ever heard him say anything that wasn't pleasant.
The beer begins flowing and Peter takes out his mandolin. After a quick tuning, he begins to play a quick upbeat tune. The entire coomon room begins to clap together as Peter belts out a drinking song in a voice much louder that you would think himself capable of.
Pretty soon the entire room is clapping, shouting, singing, and stomping their feet. You can't help but join in. The song is downright infectious! Something about a girl with three goats and a mean father who hates her true love.
While at first quietly trying to ignore the crowds cheer and mind his own thoughts, Zerash eventually finds his head idly bobbing to the tune of the song. Pondering whether it is sinful for him to take any sort of pleasure in this, he quickly downs another ale, trying to silence his own mind. He seems to forget his worries and join in the crowd after a time, although he carefully avoids any singing, as his voice hardly fits in with everyone elses.
After Peter has left, Walfilbalf looks to Eroria, as though he were going to ask a favor, "I know yer probably wantin' ta go inta that tomb, an' see what magicks they gots down 'ere... but dat ranger boy needs 'elp now, an' I don' reckon dat thing 'e wants is in any trouble after all dis time."
"If ye ask me, I say we should go see dat woman, an' see if there ain't nothin' we can do ta help 'er son. Tell dat mage ta sit on his 'ands, an' wait. I don' think it's goin nowhere, long as we keep our mouths shut."
Walfilbalf shrugs, "Still, ye know more'n me, Rora. You say go ta the tomb, I'll go with ya. I jes' think this ranger fellers more important than some dusty ol'..." he pauses, just remembering not to mention what it is they were supposed to find for the mage, "whatever-it-is."
"If ye ask me, I say we should go see dat woman, an' see if there ain't nothin' we can do ta help 'er son. Tell dat mage ta sit on his 'ands, an' wait. I don' think it's goin nowhere, long as we keep our mouths shut."
Walfilbalf shrugs, "Still, ye know more'n me, Rora. You say go ta the tomb, I'll go with ya. I jes' think this ranger fellers more important than some dusty ol'..." he pauses, just remembering not to mention what it is they were supposed to find for the mage, "whatever-it-is."
"While I admit that I am very curious about what may be found in the Tomb, as well as the story behind why it is haunted, the secrecy of our potential employer disturbs me. I do not want to find myself on the end of a lynch mob, nor do I feel comfortable working for one who we know next to nothing about, and seems to like it that way. I do not mind taking risks, but I do not like taking them on behalf of overly secretive individuals..."
"While saving this ranger sounds far less intresting to me personally, we certainly don't have to worry about it coming back to haunt us later on. And it would do well to help get rid of some of the predjudice directed at us."
"However, regardless of which we do, I'd like to look into this haunted graveyard later on, even if it's profitless investigation. What say you to this?"
"While saving this ranger sounds far less intresting to me personally, we certainly don't have to worry about it coming back to haunt us later on. And it would do well to help get rid of some of the predjudice directed at us."
"However, regardless of which we do, I'd like to look into this haunted graveyard later on, even if it's profitless investigation. What say you to this?"
"Well then, it looks to me like we are going to locate a missing ranger. Might we look into the story behind this haunted graveyard when we return? I am quite curious about it."
He rubs the underside of his snout. "Also, there is somthing I must tell you all once we are outside the town."
He rubs the underside of his snout. "Also, there is somthing I must tell you all once we are outside the town."
Northman
First Post
Three men walk into the inn. They are all middle-aged and dressed well in linens and wool. One of the men carries a sword and has the look of one trained in the martial arts. One has a dark beard, and one has a greybeard. The greybearded man smiles and spreads his arms wide as he walks toward Fat Tom.
Fat Tom smiles and shouts, “Ulmali!”
Most people in the inn look over and watch, though neither man seems to notice or care. The name seems familiar to Zerash, Eroria, and Walf. In fact it’s Zerash who mutters his full name, “Ulmali Thergenson.”
As the Mira, the Lady of Allernan dies, there are two possible heirs to her thrown. She has no children as so must choose someone to pass her title to least the Kaiser choose himself, which may happen either way. Though, most people believe that even the Kaiser would not do that to a woman so beloved and cherished for so long as a fair and just ruler.
The first possible candidate to pass on the thrown to is Thomas Fernsword, the Lady’s only living relative. He is the favorite and most believe she will name him very soon as her heir. He is a cleric of Adenan, both hardworking and trustworthy, but is young and naive. Many would love to see Allernan stay in Adenanite hands and continue its legacy of honest guards and strict laws. Thus Thomas is the favorite.
The second candidate is Ulmali Thergenson. Thergenson is a minor noble with lands near Dumbledein who has made his residence here in Allernan for most his life. He is wise and skilled in administration, and much more ready to rule than the young Fernsword. He is an honorable man by all accounts but the fact he is skilled in politics and administration makes him suspect in many men’s minds.
There is a third man. Arnak Eberson is a wealthy man with few titles but considerable wealth. He thought the town needed both more beauty and another water source within its walls and so had the stone fountain west of the Church of the Bright Blade built at great expense to himself. He is known for being generous with his wealth and gives much to both the Church of the Bright Blade and the Temple of the Healer. Yet he does not desire the title of Lord Mayor and has made it clear that he is comfortable with his life as such. If he would consider the title, he most likely would be not only the people’s choice, but the Lady’s choice, it is said.
Ulmali embraces Fat Tom and they exchange pleasantries. They seem to be old friends and laugh genuinely with each other. Fat Tom has one of his sons take his place behind the bar and goes with Ulmali to a back room. You have only seen the sight a handful of times that you see now, the padded, if flattened, stool of Tom the Fat, vacant.
Fat Tom smiles and shouts, “Ulmali!”
Most people in the inn look over and watch, though neither man seems to notice or care. The name seems familiar to Zerash, Eroria, and Walf. In fact it’s Zerash who mutters his full name, “Ulmali Thergenson.”
As the Mira, the Lady of Allernan dies, there are two possible heirs to her thrown. She has no children as so must choose someone to pass her title to least the Kaiser choose himself, which may happen either way. Though, most people believe that even the Kaiser would not do that to a woman so beloved and cherished for so long as a fair and just ruler.
The first possible candidate to pass on the thrown to is Thomas Fernsword, the Lady’s only living relative. He is the favorite and most believe she will name him very soon as her heir. He is a cleric of Adenan, both hardworking and trustworthy, but is young and naive. Many would love to see Allernan stay in Adenanite hands and continue its legacy of honest guards and strict laws. Thus Thomas is the favorite.
The second candidate is Ulmali Thergenson. Thergenson is a minor noble with lands near Dumbledein who has made his residence here in Allernan for most his life. He is wise and skilled in administration, and much more ready to rule than the young Fernsword. He is an honorable man by all accounts but the fact he is skilled in politics and administration makes him suspect in many men’s minds.
There is a third man. Arnak Eberson is a wealthy man with few titles but considerable wealth. He thought the town needed both more beauty and another water source within its walls and so had the stone fountain west of the Church of the Bright Blade built at great expense to himself. He is known for being generous with his wealth and gives much to both the Church of the Bright Blade and the Temple of the Healer. Yet he does not desire the title of Lord Mayor and has made it clear that he is comfortable with his life as such. If he would consider the title, he most likely would be not only the people’s choice, but the Lady’s choice, it is said.
Ulmali embraces Fat Tom and they exchange pleasantries. They seem to be old friends and laugh genuinely with each other. Fat Tom has one of his sons take his place behind the bar and goes with Ulmali to a back room. You have only seen the sight a handful of times that you see now, the padded, if flattened, stool of Tom the Fat, vacant.
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