You've been invited to the Ravens' Roost tavern in Daven's Falls. It's a well-made building located near the bridge over the river that divides the town in half. It's most distinguishing feature are the nooks and crannies along the eaves which the local raven population have taken a great liking too. It's a matter of some debate in the town as to whether the building was built to attract the raven's or if the inn was renamed when they colonized.

You are supposed to meet with Undermayor Harbin about some difficulties the town is having. As you enter the tavern, it is mostly empty, aside from a small knot of farmers at a corner table, and Oleira, the fiery-haired halfling woman who runs the place, ordering some staff about. There is a large table set aside from the others with a small "Reserved" sign marking it.

Bart has just tied up his horse outside and enters the tavern, bringing an odor of rust and sweat with him. He stands out, wearing heavy chain armor and a greatsword slung over his shoulder. He has a helmet in his hands with a slit for the eyes. 

He looks around the room for only a moment before finding a seat at the reserved table.

"Hm." Barbär lets out, in his mind. " This must be the right place then." Recalling the invitation from the Undermayor. "However.... Why such a large table? Are there more coming?" He thinks, as he takes a seat near, but not bumping elbows with the other person at the table. As he does his dwarven from seems to stay the same height even seated, his chainmail making soft clink sounds.

"Hello, my name is Barbär. I was invited by the Undermayor to meet about work. Are you an associate for them? Or rather, am i meant to speak with you, sir?"

Bart nods, taking a drink from one of the bar staff in a slightly brusque manner as they pass. He takes a deep drink, running a hand across a thick mustache. "I'm Bart. And I can't say I've ever been to this place before. I'm a... Problem solver. I haven't been working much in a long time, though. My rep is getting rusty. I'm here to shake it off. Show I'm still up to snuff." 

Cariadne stands up from the table in the corner where she's been playing dice against the farmers. She flips a silver piece in the air with her right hand before pocketing it, does the same with a greenish coloured die in her left, and saunters across the room to join the group at the Reserved table. 

She catches Oleira's eye and gestures with an incline of her head to the bar, following it up with "Another ale, if you would be so kind, Mistress Oleira!" 

Cariadne slouches into one of the chairs closest to the wall and pulls the die out of her pocket again. She repetitively flicks it up into the air and catches it again, indolently eyeing the others. "Difficulties in the town, huh? With a table this big they must be hu-u-uge difficulties! You can call me Cariadne."

"Well met, Sir Bart. However with such a dwarvenly moustache, Im sure you're worth your weight in ore." Barbär says as he pulls out a few copper as to signal he would also take some drink, but waits to hail over any staff member until someone delivers the drink to the newest at the table.

"Hello. Im Barbär. One of the forge." He shows his symbol of Korak. "I make blades, and keep people alive. At least the good ones. What i know however about these "difficulties", I haven't the slightest. I took the job to test my self as well." he says to her, and gives a nod to Bart after metion of testing.

Bart reaches out a hand to shake. "I hope you make good blades. I've been through enough battles to break more than my fair share of them. It's not gentle work." 

"Cariadne? You know the bartender... You are familiar with this place?"

Cariadne nods in greeting to her table companions, then shrugs noncommittally. "One tavern is very much like another. I found myself here before the appointed hour and whiled away the time in dice and conversation. One of the conversationalists happened to be Mistress Oleira."

She smiles charmingly at the woman in question when she brings over a large mug of ale. "Please, put it on my tab." persuasion 21

“You are nice and all, but I only run tabs for people whose houses I can point to.”  Oleira says.  “However, the three of you,  you are on the Mayor’s tab, so drink up! Undermayor Harbin will be here soon, although he did seem to be expecting more people.”

Your persuasion check got you on her good side, she even gave you a mug from her arcane cold box.

Barbär returns the shake, and is about to ask for a drink, until he hears they are on the Undermayor's tab. "I think I'll just pay for a round. Help to keep us in good graces. I'd hate to seem like a freeloader before we do any work for them. Lets make it--" he pauses as he counts the seats at the table, "-- A round of six ales please, and heres extra to cover Sir Barts drink from earlier." he says with a smile to Oleira, and bows his head.

(How much do i mark off, DM?)

“I will not take your money. Not a copper.”

"Very kind of you. A tip then, as I don't wish to give a bad impression." he slides a silver over with an appreciative smile under his golden brown neatly twisted facial hair.

Charisma: 9

And slides it right into an unseen glob of something on the table it seems

(It was a 6? Did it change now if you edit a latter line it messes with it? Ill make separate posts as to not do that again. Sorry!)

Cariadne winks at Oleira and smiles into her drink as she takes a long appreciative sip.

She sets the mug back onto the table. "On the Mayor's dime? Nice to see they are treating us well. Must be an important "difficulty" we're here to chat about."

Cariadne turns to Barbär and wiggles the greenish die in her left hand. "Fancy a game while we wait? No sense in wasting time when there could be some fun in the making."

"I'm no betting man, but I do fancy a game, sure. Been rather stuck in my head lately. Feeling like im in a rut. Thats one of the reasons why I decided to take the job. So whats the game?" he says with a smile then raises his eyebrows to Bart, as if to ask if he is also in.

Another patron soon joined the crowd, as the doors opened as if on their own and what they framed seemed to be a tall, elven woman. Wearing a garment that seemed similar to what human hunters might wear---comprised of furs of the various animals that made up the forests, with interwoven elements of plants. A sickle sat on her left hip, and a coupling of small pouches on the opposite hip. Peering up from her equipment to a face pale as the moon, framed by inky dark strands of hair that seemed almost like the night sky thanks to the soft glowing blue eyes that also sat in pools of black, like slowly twisting nebula. 

The woman paused once out of the way of the entrance, taking a moment to thrice glance down at a note in her hand, then toward the reserved table that she strode toward quietly, speaking with a faint accent---like her common wasn't exactly 'common' for her to use. "I was instructed to show up here, for work by the Undermayor. Do I have the right table?"

Cariadne smiles. "It's pretty simple... roll two six-sided dice, whoever comes up with a 7 or 12 is the winner! If nobody wins, we 'buy' another die. Like so..."

She demonstrates with two more dice she pulls from her pocket.  4

Quote from valeskah >>

Cariadne smiles. "It's pretty simple... roll two six-sided dice, whoever comes up with a 7 or 12 is the winner! If nobody wins, we 'buy' another die. Like so..."

She demonstrates with two more dice she pulls from her pocket.  8

Cariadne stops throwing the dice as her attention is caught by the elf approaching the table. "Well hello there. This is certainly the right table, Snow White! This seat is free right here." She pats the chair next to her and pockets her dice in one easy move. "Sorry, gentlemen, we'll have to pick that game up again later."

Quote from Benismyusername >>

"I'm no betting man, but I do fancy a game, sure. Been rather stuck in my head lately. Feeling like im in a rut. Thats one of the reasons why I decided to take the job. So whats the game?" he says with a smile then raises his eyebrows to Bart, as if to ask if he is also in.

 Bart gives a friendly shake of his head in rejection but leans in to watch them play. 

When the woman with the dark eyes speaks to them, he simply pulls out a chair for her without getting up.