You stand in the cracked goblet, a poor tavern made of mainly wood, with a brick base coming three feet from the floor. A male middle aged portly human stands at the pack of a bar, serving drinks, while two female elves bring food to people at the tables. Many people eat at the tables. You stand, remembering a message you got from a raven "I've heard of your exploits, meet me at Breibury Docks, at the Cracked Goblet." And you realize that you see the messenger raven you saw before, on the shoulder of a halfling wearing fine clothes with grew sideburn running down his chin. He sees you, and waves you over. As you go to sit down, you notice four other people sit down. You can now each describe your characters.
A hulking half-orc warily enters the tavern, looking around. His clothes and armor show a good deal of wear, but are well-kept nonetheless. Making no sign of noticing anyone but his contact, he draws up a chair and says "you have work for me?", looking completely at home in the dilapidated tavern.
Standing just under 3ft tall, a heavily muscled halfling struts into the bar, a large warmaul(nearly the same size as him) strapped to his back. He isn't wearing much in the way of clothes, bare chested wearing rough hide breaches. A faint scraggly beard rests upon his chin matching the color of his mop of long hair on top of his head. He look like he hasn't been in civilization in some time.
Heading straight to the bar "Barkeep, give me a pint!" As he gets his drink he turns and see the raven that came to him alight on the shoulder of a fellow halfling as well as a large armored half-orc sitting at the table with him. Taking a few long draughts of his drink he will make his way to the pair.
"So you sent the bird eh? You need something dead, then Im your man." looking up at the half-orc "You look like you could be a handy distraction."
A gnome sits at the bar sipping a whisky. He's tall for a gnome at nearly 4ft and has a short pink mohecian. Two leather bags are strapped across his chest, sitting neatly on each side on top of a simple white shirt. He wears a pair of baggy trousers adorned with many pockets and symbols.
He walks over to the table and nods at the halfling and half orc, then offers his hand to the halfling with the raven, you notice his finger nails are painted bright blue.
"So you're the one who sent the raven? A very unexpected occurrence, yes most unexpected. Why did you want to meet?"
And then to the other two "why are you lot here? Don't tell me ravens and all"
The tavern door opens and a halfling enters. His clothes are smart without being fancy, as if he has dropped in from a shift as a treasury clerk. He self-consciously shifts across the room and avoids ordering anything at the bar.
Taking an empty seat at the table, preferably one with its back to the wall, he nods to the other new arrivals courteously before addressing the halfing with the raven “Good day sir, I am Osborn – although you clearly know that already. You have me at a disadvantage, Mr...?”
A massive 8 foot tall, well over 300 pound figure can be seen silhouetted in the door for a moment as he looks around the cracked goblet. Noticing the halfling with the raven sitting at a table with 2 other halflings, a gnome, and a half-orc, Gromedark makes his way over and takes a seat. Gromedark is a bugbear wearing nice traveling clothes under some leather armor. You can see he wears several weapons comfortably, a shortsword sheathed at his left hip, 2 daggers sheathed on each thigh, and a short bow slung over one shoulder. Gromedark is carrying a small wooden case. Before he sits at the table he unslings his bow from his shoulder and leans it against the edge of the table within easy reach. Finally he places the wooden case on the table.
"Gromedark follow raven's message. Gromedark is good map-maker. Can help you get to where you going, not get lost, and get you back safe."
Gromedark places his left hand on the wooden case.
"This is Gromedark's Cartographer's Tools. Gromedark is good map-maker. Gromedark travel far to get here."
Gromedark smacks the palm of his right hand on the table several times making loud clapping noises to get the attention of the nearest female elf.
As all of you sit down, the halfling's face lights up, "Hey you all came!" I was expecting two or three, maybe, but all five! Now, you've all met my pet raven, Asfrey, but it is time you met me!My name is Clovis Flitwick, you probably past my shop on they way here, Flickwit's Fabulous Potions, and I have a job for you. A few weeks ago, this nice druid had me make a special liquid, only used in certain druid rites. It took me a few months to get all the ingredients for it, but I finally have it. Now I want you to deliver it." Flickwit stops, letting out a sigh, "He lives in the Greiheild Woods." Anyone who has been around the East side of the kingdom has heard of the Greiheild Woods, apparently filled with bandits and undead.
"Greilheild huh, Ive hunted the fringes of that place a few times for some of the nearby villages, nasty things live in there." he takes a hefty swig from his mug keeping his attention on Clovis.
Garazar nods. "No one who wants to live goes through there with their cargo. They go around. Longer, but safe." Turning to Clovis, "you want us to deliver something, and that's all?" as he subconsciously pats his money pouch, which does not jingle at all. "I am not afraid. But the pay better be worth the risk."
Herberts eyebrows raise at the mention of Greilheild.
"Those woods eh, I've read about them in my studies, don't sound the nicest of places. Like the big fella says, the pay better be good, what's it worth? And what's so important about this potion anyway, what is it? Whats it to be used for?"
He takes a sip of whisky.
"You got a map to help us? Something tells me that Gromedark would like that", smiling over at the bugbear.
'Ah! Yes, payment." Flickwit exclaims, "I don't know where, the god that money, but they paid a lot, and a am offering, a cut of the profits, 25 gold for each of you."
Osborn is content to let his new companions take the lead on questioning Clovis, concentrating instead on trying to read any sign of deception or concealment from the Halfling.
Osborn, looking at Clovis, he doesn't seem to be lying, but he seems slightly impatient and upset that the topic is still on the Greiheild Woods. When Gromedark asks for a name, he perks up, "Yes, name, heed told me his name is Aspherer. He is an old gnome, funny looking fellow, smaller than normal, even for a gnome. Maroon hair, and a small scar on his left cheek."
Draining the last of his ale, Orin set the tankard down with a heavy thud. "So just take this potion to this Aspherer and done? We meet you back here when finished?"
Gromedark accepts his ale from the female elf and tips her two silver. Turning back to those at the table he takes a sip of ale before putting his tankard down.
"Gromedark think five have better chance than one to find Aspherer."
Looking at Orin and Osborn, "Should we eat first before we go? Gromedark can travel far on full stomach."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Herbert: "I could eat." He looks around for someone to come to the table to order. Then to Clovis. "Foods not cheap, and we are poor adventurers. How about 5gp each up front and the rest on delivery?"
The half-orc perks up at the talk of gold and food. "How do we find thisAspherer? Do we just wander around calling out his name? That does not seem to be wise in there."
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You stand in the cracked goblet, a poor tavern made of mainly wood, with a brick base coming three feet from the floor. A male middle aged portly human stands at the pack of a bar, serving drinks, while two female elves bring food to people at the tables. Many people eat at the tables. You stand, remembering a message you got from a raven "I've heard of your exploits, meet me at Breibury Docks, at the Cracked Goblet." And you realize that you see the messenger raven you saw before, on the shoulder of a halfling wearing fine clothes with grew sideburn running down his chin. He sees you, and waves you over. As you go to sit down, you notice four other people sit down. You can now each describe your characters.
A hulking half-orc warily enters the tavern, looking around. His clothes and armor show a good deal of wear, but are well-kept nonetheless. Making no sign of noticing anyone but his contact, he draws up a chair and says "you have work for me?", looking completely at home in the dilapidated tavern.
Standing just under 3ft tall, a heavily muscled halfling struts into the bar, a large warmaul(nearly the same size as him) strapped to his back. He isn't wearing much in the way of clothes, bare chested wearing rough hide breaches. A faint scraggly beard rests upon his chin matching the color of his mop of long hair on top of his head. He look like he hasn't been in civilization in some time.
Heading straight to the bar "Barkeep, give me a pint!" As he gets his drink he turns and see the raven that came to him alight on the shoulder of a fellow halfling as well as a large armored half-orc sitting at the table with him. Taking a few long draughts of his drink he will make his way to the pair.
"So you sent the bird eh? You need something dead, then Im your man." looking up at the half-orc "You look like you could be a handy distraction."
A gnome sits at the bar sipping a whisky. He's tall for a gnome at nearly 4ft and has a short pink mohecian. Two leather bags are strapped across his chest, sitting neatly on each side on top of a simple white shirt. He wears a pair of baggy trousers adorned with many pockets and symbols.
He walks over to the table and nods at the halfling and half orc, then offers his hand to the halfling with the raven, you notice his finger nails are painted bright blue.
"So you're the one who sent the raven? A very unexpected occurrence, yes most unexpected. Why did you want to meet?"
And then to the other two "why are you lot here? Don't tell me ravens and all"
N/A
The half-orc looks the halfling up and down. "And you look like you might be something's lunch... if it isn't too hungry."
He looks as if about to order something, then appears to think better of it, returning his attention back to the table.
The tavern door opens and a halfling enters. His clothes are smart without being fancy, as if he has dropped in from a shift as a treasury clerk. He self-consciously shifts across the room and avoids ordering anything at the bar.
Taking an empty seat at the table, preferably one with its back to the wall, he nods to the other new arrivals courteously before addressing the halfing with the raven “Good day sir, I am Osborn – although you clearly know that already. You have me at a disadvantage, Mr...?”
A massive 8 foot tall, well over 300 pound figure can be seen silhouetted in the door for a moment as he looks around the cracked goblet. Noticing the halfling with the raven sitting at a table with 2 other halflings, a gnome, and a half-orc, Gromedark makes his way over and takes a seat. Gromedark is a bugbear wearing nice traveling clothes under some leather armor. You can see he wears several weapons comfortably, a shortsword sheathed at his left hip, 2 daggers sheathed on each thigh, and a short bow slung over one shoulder. Gromedark is carrying a small wooden case. Before he sits at the table he unslings his bow from his shoulder and leans it against the edge of the table within easy reach. Finally he places the wooden case on the table.
"Gromedark follow raven's message. Gromedark is good map-maker. Can help you get to where you going, not get lost, and get you back safe."
Gromedark places his left hand on the wooden case.
"This is Gromedark's Cartographer's Tools. Gromedark is good map-maker. Gromedark travel far to get here."
Gromedark smacks the palm of his right hand on the table several times making loud clapping noises to get the attention of the nearest female elf.
"Gromedark thirsty. Gromedark want ale. Bring Gromedark ale."
As all of you sit down, the halfling's face lights up, "Hey you all came!" I was expecting two or three, maybe, but all five! Now, you've all met my pet raven, Asfrey, but it is time you met me!My name is Clovis Flitwick, you probably past my shop on they way here, Flickwit's Fabulous Potions, and I have a job for you. A few weeks ago, this nice druid had me make a special liquid, only used in certain druid rites. It took me a few months to get all the ingredients for it, but I finally have it. Now I want you to deliver it." Flickwit stops, letting out a sigh, "He lives in the Greiheild Woods." Anyone who has been around the East side of the kingdom has heard of the Greiheild Woods, apparently filled with bandits and undead.
"Greilheild huh, Ive hunted the fringes of that place a few times for some of the nearby villages, nasty things live in there." he takes a hefty swig from his mug keeping his attention on Clovis.
Garazar nods. "No one who wants to live goes through there with their cargo. They go around. Longer, but safe." Turning to Clovis, "you want us to deliver something, and that's all?" as he subconsciously pats his money pouch, which does not jingle at all. "I am not afraid. But the pay better be worth the risk."
Herberts eyebrows raise at the mention of Greilheild.
"Those woods eh, I've read about them in my studies, don't sound the nicest of places. Like the big fella says, the pay better be good, what's it worth? And what's so important about this potion anyway, what is it? Whats it to be used for?"
He takes a sip of whisky.
"You got a map to help us? Something tells me that Gromedark would like that", smiling over at the bugbear.
N/A
'Ah! Yes, payment." Flickwit exclaims, "I don't know where, the god that money, but they paid a lot, and a am offering, a cut of the profits, 25 gold for each of you."
"Many bad things in Greiheild Woods. All Gromedark and... new friends have to do is deliver potion?"
"Greiheild Woods is big place, how we find Druid? Describe Druid to Gromedark or tell where he live."
After a little discussion to get the particulars, time and place and what not, whatever Clovis can add or answer:
"Gromedark is good map-maker! Gromedark will help deliver potion to crazy Druid."
"What name for crazy Druid?"
Osborn is content to let his new companions take the lead on questioning Clovis, concentrating instead on trying to read any sign of deception or concealment from the Halfling.
Insight (passive 11) 9
Osborn, looking at Clovis, he doesn't seem to be lying, but he seems slightly impatient and upset that the topic is still on the Greiheild Woods. When Gromedark asks for a name, he perks up, "Yes, name, heed told me his name is Aspherer. He is an old gnome, funny looking fellow, smaller than normal, even for a gnome. Maroon hair, and a small scar on his left cheek."
Draining the last of his ale, Orin set the tankard down with a heavy thud. "So just take this potion to this Aspherer and done? We meet you back here when finished?"
Gromedark accepts his ale from the female elf and tips her two silver. Turning back to those at the table he takes a sip of ale before putting his tankard down.
"Gromedark think five have better chance than one to find Aspherer."
Looking at Orin and Osborn, "Should we eat first before we go? Gromedark can travel far on full stomach."
Orin pats his stomach "Food is always a priority. Cant kill things on an empty stomach."
Herbert: "I could eat." He looks around for someone to come to the table to order. Then to Clovis. "Foods not cheap, and we are poor adventurers. How about 5gp each up front and the rest on delivery?"
Persuasion if needed: 11
N/A
The half-orc perks up at the talk of gold and food. "How do we find this Aspherer? Do we just wander around calling out his name? That does not seem to be wise in there."