Ruar opens the pouch at his belt and peeks inside. Five small golden coins jingle inside. Reaching in with large fingers, he pinches one coin out of the pouch and places it on the bar in front of him.
Rhys has become enamored with one of the young barmaids, a shy girl with auburn hair and dark chestnut eyes. He's got her engaged in conversation, a practiced, boyish lopsided grin firmly in place, as he rolls his (fake) signet ring back and forth along the backside of his knuckles absent-mindedly.
He's a bit distracted by the gigantic Firbolg at the bar, though... Seems there's drama afoot and he's torn between romance and adventure.
He keeps half a pointed ear focused on the conversation at the bar.
Ruar gazes at the barkeep in bewilderment. "S-S-Sunset...?" He peeks towards the window and studies the shadows for a moment, and then sighs heavily. He places another five coppers on the bar.
The barmaid delivers two tankards, and I give her a gold coin, "keep em coming lass". Grym seems to have his cut under control, which is when I notice the newcomer to the bar. Standing, I yell across the room "cousin! Come join us misfits here for a while!" (By cousins, it is more due to our shared racial heritage than any actual blood tie).
Once I am sure that the firbolg notices, I leave him to decide, sitting back down across from Grym. "So, does it fly?"
"Fly? No, maybe someday, for now it merely walks" Grym takes a large gulp from his tankard and puts it back down on the table, he eyes the man whom Pudding had just invited to join them. "Do you know that man? I assume he is not who you have been waiting on"
"Know him? No, not yet anyway. But he's another who seems out of place here. Besides, we share ancestors, and family is important"
i smile as I lean in closer to the tinkerer, "I don't know about you, but this waiting is making me nervous, I might beginning to wonder if this Everaskan will even show up."
Styllon, with uncanny elven accuracy, will arrive at the tavern just moments before sunset. At which time he will be almost pleased to see his old acquaintance Ruar, who he met a many seasons ago while traveling about the Moonshaes.
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As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
With the barmaid off about her business, and seemingly more interested in NOT losing her job than in talking to him, Rhys's attention turns toward the Firbolg and the group gathering around him. He smells an opportunity for his skills to be put to use - and perhaps a chance to gather some coin and glory in the mean.
From his seat not far away, he unabashedly watches the group and listens as they converse.
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PBP "Beregost Blues" - Dungeon Master of Gnome Slaying +5
"Everaskan you say? I too am waiting for an Everaskan. A noble I was told. Whatever that means." Grym smirks with the mention of nobility. He leans back once again in the chair, mead in hand, and begins sipping from it as he takes note of the various newcomers. "Looks like things are getting a bit crowded."
Ruar sighs in relief when he spies a familiar face. He orders Styllon's usual (at least what it was years ago), pays for it, and brings it to his old friend.
"I'm glad to see you again, friend. I hope we are here for a common purpose."
He shyly glances at the others around him. "Oh!" he says with a short bow. "Greetings."
A shadowy figure enters the inn. You realise it is a woman, although her face is still half covered by the hood of her cloak. She regards the adventurers, one by one, and they can feel her gaze scrutinising. With a nod, she invites them to follow her in a distant table on the southeastern corner of the inn. "Good evening, adventures. I will be brief since my time is short and I don't like to waste it. My name is Imzel Iltazyara from Evereska. As you probably know, my city is in great need of secure routes. Cormanthor refugees come and go, and I don't like to see their life in danger. Currently, there have been reports of Gnoll activity in the hills south of here. Moreover, undead creatures have been spotted in the region. What alarms me is that I don't know where these sickening creatures are coming from. I ask you to clean this region. Wipe out the Gnoll stronghold and find the source of the undead and destroy it. Do this for me, and I'll pay each one of you 300 pieces of gold. What is your answer?"
"Why of course!" I exclaim, slamming my tankard down on the table. Perhaps a little too hard it seems, as it splinters and breaks, remains of the ale dripping over the table. "The small ones must be looked after. Isn't that right cuz" as I continue my drunken engagement and slap Styllon on the back
"Proof? None. I have my ways to discern if you are going to be truthful or not. A word of advice. Do not test me on this... I will meet you at the village of Hardbuckler, 250 miles south-west of here, east of the Trielta Hills. The gnomes there are very welcoming, and I have an estate."
"Test you...farthest thing from my mind, just didn't want to get voided payment because I didn't snag you a trophy" Grym grins at the noble and takes another sip of his drink, his eyes never breaking their gaze upon her.
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Ruar opens the pouch at his belt and peeks inside. Five small golden coins jingle inside. Reaching in with large fingers, he pinches one coin out of the pouch and places it on the bar in front of him.
The barkeep gives the change to the firbolg (9 sp + 5 cp). "Are you waiting for someone, boy?"
Ruar places the change in his pouch. He clears his throat and speaks softly.
"I am, sir. I was asked to come here to meet a noble of Evereska."
Rhys has become enamored with one of the young barmaids, a shy girl with auburn hair and dark chestnut eyes. He's got her engaged in conversation, a practiced, boyish lopsided grin firmly in place, as he rolls his (fake) signet ring back and forth along the backside of his knuckles absent-mindedly.
He's a bit distracted by the gigantic Firbolg at the bar, though... Seems there's drama afoot and he's torn between romance and adventure.
He keeps half a pointed ear focused on the conversation at the bar.
The Barkeep toward Ruar: " A noble from Everaska? A stuck-up noble from Everaska? Good luck with that. Usually they come at sunset. "
[Currently is mid-afternoon]
Ruar gazes at the barkeep in bewilderment. "S-S-Sunset...?" He peeks towards the window and studies the shadows for a moment, and then sighs heavily. He places another five coppers on the bar.
"Another, please." he says dejectedly.
"AH! I like ya, boy. Here" says the barkeep, while serving one more pint of mead.
The barmaid delivers two tankards, and I give her a gold coin, "keep em coming lass". Grym seems to have his cut under control, which is when I notice the newcomer to the bar. Standing, I yell across the room "cousin! Come join us misfits here for a while!" (By cousins, it is more due to our shared racial heritage than any actual blood tie).
Once I am sure that the firbolg notices, I leave him to decide, sitting back down across from Grym. "So, does it fly?"
- Stu
#6321 on Discord.
"Fly? No, maybe someday, for now it merely walks" Grym takes a large gulp from his tankard and puts it back down on the table, he eyes the man whom Pudding had just invited to join them. "Do you know that man? I assume he is not who you have been waiting on"
"Know him? No, not yet anyway. But he's another who seems out of place here. Besides, we share ancestors, and family is important"
i smile as I lean in closer to the tinkerer, "I don't know about you, but this waiting is making me nervous, I might beginning to wonder if this Everaskan will even show up."
- Stu
#6321 on Discord.
Styllon, with uncanny elven accuracy, will arrive at the tavern just moments before sunset. At which time he will be almost pleased to see his old acquaintance Ruar, who he met a many seasons ago while traveling about the Moonshaes.
As for me, I choose to believe that an extinct thunder lizard is running a game of Dungeons & Dragons via Twitter!
With the barmaid off about her business, and seemingly more interested in NOT losing her job than in talking to him, Rhys's attention turns toward the Firbolg and the group gathering around him. He smells an opportunity for his skills to be put to use - and perhaps a chance to gather some coin and glory in the mean.
From his seat not far away, he unabashedly watches the group and listens as they converse.
"Everaskan you say? I too am waiting for an Everaskan. A noble I was told. Whatever that means." Grym smirks with the mention of nobility. He leans back once again in the chair, mead in hand, and begins sipping from it as he takes note of the various newcomers. "Looks like things are getting a bit crowded."
"How Seren..something this all is then" I reply, taking another swig. "I'm sure between me and the other big guy, we can make some space for ya"
- Stu
#6321 on Discord.
Ruar sighs in relief when he spies a familiar face. He orders Styllon's usual (at least what it was years ago), pays for it, and brings it to his old friend.
"I'm glad to see you again, friend. I hope we are here for a common purpose."
He shyly glances at the others around him. "Oh!" he says with a short bow. "Greetings."
A shadowy figure enters the inn. You realise it is a woman, although her face is still half covered by the hood of her cloak. She regards the adventurers, one by one, and they can feel her gaze scrutinising. With a nod, she invites them to follow her in a distant table on the southeastern corner of the inn.
"Good evening, adventures. I will be brief since my time is short and I don't like to waste it. My name is Imzel Iltazyara from Evereska. As you probably know, my city is in great need of secure routes. Cormanthor refugees come and go, and I don't like to see their life in danger. Currently, there have been reports of Gnoll activity in the hills south of here. Moreover, undead creatures have been spotted in the region. What alarms me is that I don't know where these sickening creatures are coming from. I ask you to clean this region. Wipe out the Gnoll stronghold and find the source of the undead and destroy it. Do this for me, and I'll pay each one of you 300 pieces of gold. What is your answer?"
"Why of course!" I exclaim, slamming my tankard down on the table. Perhaps a little too hard it seems, as it splinters and breaks, remains of the ale dripping over the table. "The small ones must be looked after. Isn't that right cuz" as I continue my drunken engagement and slap Styllon on the back
- Stu
#6321 on Discord.
Grym smirks at Pudding's zealousness over protecting 'the small ones'. "I'm in, what sort of proof will you require that the job is complete?"
"Proof? None. I have my ways to discern if you are going to be truthful or not. A word of advice. Do not test me on this... I will meet you at the village of Hardbuckler, 250 miles south-west of here, east of the Trielta Hills. The gnomes there are very welcoming, and I have an estate."
"Test you...farthest thing from my mind, just didn't want to get voided payment because I didn't snag you a trophy" Grym grins at the noble and takes another sip of his drink, his eyes never breaking their gaze upon her.