The sleepy town of Goris has always been a place for a few weary travelers to rest their heads. But in today’s world, a world proclaimed to be “The Age of the Adventurer” by the Ossen-Ton, Goris is filled to the brim with explorers.
To the east, the Asilion Peaks ascend high into the heavens, hiding delicate mysteries that only the most brave of souls have attempted to unravel. To the west, the seemingly endless rolling hills extend into the lush Ossenian Plains, hugged tightly by the Palgon River.
It is harvest season and the merchant row is abuzz during the day, though the moon is now allowing its pure light to permeate the brisk air and the dirt streets are nearly empty. You have all arrived in Goris, for one reason or another, and have heard whispers of trouble everywhere.
A sign reading “Trouble! Brave adventurers wanted! Coin and free meals to those who succeed!” caught your eyes during your stay here, and it instructed you on where to go to seek out this opportunity.
Although Goris encompasses the many surrounding family farms, the modest downtown of Goris is concentrated on two hills. Atop the first of these hills is the place you have been instructed to enter. You arrive at the Traveler’s Mug, one of Goris’s two notable taverns. You can hear the bustle from the inside, and upon entering you are immediately assaulted with a cacophony of sounds: card games, drink orders, arguments, and a rousing band trying to play over all the noise. From the looks of it, this establishment encapsulates the opposite of what you would expect for this small town: seediness, violence, and a general sense of unease.
Upon entering, the proprietor of the tavern, a stout dwarf with wrinkles beyond his years, directs you to a booth in the back while he pours drinks. “He’s late,” the dwarf grumbles. “As always.”
As you all begin to arrive, waiting for the one person who can inform you of the troubles in Goris, you begin to wonder who the other individuals drawn to this problem may be. What will you do?
A young eladrin sits in the corner of the booth, fiddling with a strand of his hair while his eyes take in the scene around him. He gulps at the chaos around him and for the most part he keeps to himself, unsure of what to do while he waits. The elf looks like a fish out of water, with his silver hair and eyes and his full chainmail armor that softly clinks when he moves or shifts.
“So, uh, my name is Quaykos Lioran, but you can call me Quay,” he says to the others around him. “I’m, uh, guessing you are all here for the job too?”
A short, wiry elf with pale skin sits, hands at her sides, resting on what are probably dagger handles, judging by her dark leathers. She has long, black hair in a braid behind her back, and turquoise eyes that often dart around, as though she's constantly on the lookout. Nothing can be discerned from her expression--her countenance is stony and unreadable.
"Araleth," she says. "And yes for myself, though I can't speak for anyone else here."
Amidst the raucous cheers and laughter, a tall woman stands out. She commands attention with her confident posture, her face adorned with an array of piercings that catch the light and shine briefly just as brightly as her smile.
There at the back, she stands across from a man, whose hand she holds, but not fondly. "Come on, mate. You can do it!" Her laughter rings out as the man's face reddens with the strain of trying to resist her strength, while she holds an unwavering grip. "If that's all you have, old man, I'm bored." Effortlessly, she firmly forces his hand to the table.
Despite the cheers and jeers, the woman waves off that corner of the room, seeking someone new to challenge. Her eyes fall on the growing table of adventurers. She grins as she holds out her hand to one of them. "Well met, name's Agatha. Say... want to fisticuffs?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
At the entrance is a young human with auburn hair tied in a ponytail in the back and a large satchel at his side. Seeing the tavern so full of adventurers, he can’t help but smile. He waves hello to the grumpy dwarf and addresses him with a familiar tone in his voice. "Busy day, hun?".
He then makes his way through the crowd, trying not to disturb the drinking and gambling tables, over to the booth where others have already taken place. As he arrives at the booth, he offers his hand to whoever will shake it.
Quay looks at Agatha’s hand, looks at the crowd of people she has beaten, and looks back at the hand. “Um, sure. I guess I can try.” he says, shrugging. Quay takes off the glove on his right hand, and grips Agatha’s hand.
As the band ends one song and begins to prepare for the next, anyone keeping an eye on the room spots a human with vibrant red hair, light sea green eyes, and a mirthful smile on his lips stand up from a table towards the center of the room and look around before spotting the booth filling up towards the back of the room. You watch him share a few a few more words with the others at his table before making his way towards the booth in the back.
As he approaches you see he wears simple but well maintained travelers clothes in shades of seafoam green and sky blue. While he carries a backpack slung over one shoulder it's clear that his valued possessions are the lyre and flute he carries with him.
He arrives at the table and responds to Quay's question with a calming voice, tilt of the head to those already there, and a firm (though certainly not strong) handshake for Oliver. "Indeed, here for coin, food, and tales worth telling. Pleasure to make your acquaintances. My name is Leander."He shuffles out of the way of Agatha and Quay (he's clearly not the one to take on physical displays of strength).
Leander sees Agatha and Quay "greeting" each other and Araleth keeping a bit of a stoney complexion, and plops down before striking up a conversation with Oliver. "So, you said your name was Oliver right? Not every day I run into another happy traveler with red hair. Other than the coin and food what brings you to Goris? You from around here?"
Olivier sits beside the minstrel. Musicians always seemed to be so joyful to him, and this one was no exception. And much like other musicians he had met, he looked like he had been on the road for a while, and gathered many a good story from the wider world.
Though he enjoyed his life in Goris, he did have the itch to discover what the rest of the world had to offer.
"It’s actually Olivier. But that’s fine.", he corrected the bard. "I’m not particularly looking for coin and food. I have enough of it at home here. I’m mostly looking to meet new people and see what’s beyond Goris. You look like you travel a lot. What have you seen on your journeys?"
To Olivier's earlier question, the dwarf nods, his face softening in just the slightest as he recognizes the familiar face. The dwarf lets out a sigh before replying, "Always busy. Always."
Quay looks at Agatha’s hand, looks at the crowd of people she has beaten, and looks back at the hand. “Um, sure. I guess I can try.” he says, shrugging. Quay takes off the glove on his right hand, and grips Agatha’s hand.
"Good lad, don't be intimidated by strangers askin' ya weird favors. I'm a bit bored and you look like a strong fellow." She flexes her muscles and tries to go for the pin.
(At a conference and I am somewhere my character sheet won't load... so I'm rolling here 1+8 if athletics +4 if pure strength... I think.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
As the match begins, Quay realizes that this wasn’t the smartest move as his hand gets slammed into the table. He winces, saying “Yeah, that hurts. A lot.” Quay rubs his hand, and as he does so a soft silver glow surrounds it, then fades away. “Ok, that’s better.“
"It’s actually Olivier. But that’s fine.", he corrected the bard. "I’m not particularly looking for coin and food. I have enough of it at home here. I’m mostly looking to meet new people and see what’s beyond Goris. You look like you travel a lot. What have you seen on your journeys?"
"Olivier, my apologies. It's a bit loud in this tavern and I must have misheard, I'll be sure to get it right in the future. I can appreciate the desire to see what's out there, it's a large reason that I set out on my travels as well. I was fortunate to grow up in the a town called Siren's Perch in the Orikos islands so I heard the stories of travels all my life, it was an inspiration to get out there and see what was changing in Astoya, both for the better and worse. And well, if my songs could help raise people's spirits on the my travels then all the better. As for what I've seen on my travels...hhuuuu," and Leander quickly slides his drink out of the way as Quay's hand crashes into the table near him. He gives a quick nod to Agatha acknowledging her win before continuing... "Well a few weeks ago I ran into a skeletal salesman peddling wares a carriage pulled by flaming horses, said that he sold goods from the far flung reaches of Astoya...very expensive goods I might add. Seemed an odd fellow but good humored, and was gone as quick as he showed up."
As the match begins, Quay realizes that this wasn’t the smartest move as his hand gets slammed into the table. He winces, saying “Yeah, that hurts. A lot.” Quay rubs his hand, and as he does so a soft silver glow surrounds it, then fades away. “Ok, that’s better.“
"What! You got them healing powers, then?" Agatha quickly takes a seat by Quay, inserting herself with zero decorum. "Can you heal a scar? I've had it ever sense I was a kid. Ugly bastard, too."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
Olivier listens to Leander's story with admiration. To think that, somewhere out there, there was a skeleton merchant selling exotic goods was wild to him. When asked about a story of his own, his smile lightly dims.
"I...uh...don't know. I've no memories of who I was beyond about five years ago. I've lived in this town since. You don't really want me to talk about it." His smile comes back as he recalls a funny story. "I can tell you about this one time though. I was making this experimental poultice to help with this man's migraines. It was the first time I was trying this recipe. It included fermented onions. Now, I couldn't have expected him to use the entire container that very night. He ended up smelling like onions for an entire week, no matter how hard he tried to wash it off.'' He chuckles, hoping the bard will find this funny as well.
After exchanging story with Leandre, Olivier would turn to the rest of the group. "What about the rest of you? Any good story to tell?", he asks with a smile.
"What! You got them healing powers, then?" Agatha quickly takes a seat by Quay, inserting herself with zero decorum. "Can you heal a scar? I've had it ever sense I was a kid. Ugly bastard, too."
“I don’t think I can,” Quay says, shying away a bit and feeling very uncomfortable at how close Agatha is to him. “That’s for high level magic, I think, and I’m not that powerful. I mean, I’ve only been following my Eldertitan for 7 months.”
Quay turns to the others, a glum expression on his face. He says after a pause, “I don’t have any good stories. Not any that bring up any happy memories.”
It is at this point in your conversations when some of your attentions begin to drift toward the front of the tavern, where a dark-skinned halfling holding a stack of disorderly papers has just entered. The dwarf is grumbling at him in frustration as he pours a drink, but the halfling's face seems to still be filled with a joyous smile nonetheless.
The halfling takes one of the smallest cups of beer you have ever seen and makes his way toward your booth, striding over as fast as he can without spilling his drink. Olivier, you recognize this figure immediately. He sits down wherever he can fit in the booth, his shoulders barely rising above the table. "Good evening," he says with a grin as he plops down the stack of papers onto the table. His face is dripping with sweat and his grey formal vest is unbuttoned and smattered with mud. "Sorry for the wait, it's..." He trails off, breathing heavy. He conjures a smile back onto his face even after the previous one fell. He takes a small sip of his drink before continuing. "It's crazy out there." His eyes scan around the table, lingering a bit on the familiar face of Olivier. "Name's Arvick. Pleased to meet all of you!" After another few big breaths of air, he asks, "Is everyone here from the sign?"
“I‘m here for the sign,” Quay replies to the halfling, trying to get some room while Agatha squishes him against the wall. “My name is Quay. I guess I wouldn’t want to pass up free food and a bit of coin.”
Olivier recognizes the halfling. Seeing him here feels odd to the young man. The Rian-Gatra is usually too busy with business of the town to come drink in the tavern. He's curious with what brings him here today, as well as what he was doing that got him in such a state.
"Hello Arvick. You look like you've been busy. As always. So you're the one who posted that sign? What's going on?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
The First Chapter
~~~
The sleepy town of Goris has always been a place for a few weary travelers to rest their heads. But in today’s world, a world proclaimed to be “The Age of the Adventurer” by the Ossen-Ton, Goris is filled to the brim with explorers.
To the east, the Asilion Peaks ascend high into the heavens, hiding delicate mysteries that only the most brave of souls have attempted to unravel. To the west, the seemingly endless rolling hills extend into the lush Ossenian Plains, hugged tightly by the Palgon River.
It is harvest season and the merchant row is abuzz during the day, though the moon is now allowing its pure light to permeate the brisk air and the dirt streets are nearly empty. You have all arrived in Goris, for one reason or another, and have heard whispers of trouble everywhere.
A sign reading “Trouble! Brave adventurers wanted! Coin and free meals to those who succeed!” caught your eyes during your stay here, and it instructed you on where to go to seek out this opportunity.
Although Goris encompasses the many surrounding family farms, the modest downtown of Goris is concentrated on two hills. Atop the first of these hills is the place you have been instructed to enter. You arrive at the Traveler’s Mug, one of Goris’s two notable taverns. You can hear the bustle from the inside, and upon entering you are immediately assaulted with a cacophony of sounds: card games, drink orders, arguments, and a rousing band trying to play over all the noise. From the looks of it, this establishment encapsulates the opposite of what you would expect for this small town: seediness, violence, and a general sense of unease.
Upon entering, the proprietor of the tavern, a stout dwarf with wrinkles beyond his years, directs you to a booth in the back while he pours drinks. “He’s late,” the dwarf grumbles. “As always.”
As you all begin to arrive, waiting for the one person who can inform you of the troubles in Goris, you begin to wonder who the other individuals drawn to this problem may be. What will you do?
A young eladrin sits in the corner of the booth, fiddling with a strand of his hair while his eyes take in the scene around him. He gulps at the chaos around him and for the most part he keeps to himself, unsure of what to do while he waits. The elf looks like a fish out of water, with his silver hair and eyes and his full chainmail armor that softly clinks when he moves or shifts.
“So, uh, my name is Quaykos Lioran, but you can call me Quay,” he says to the others around him. “I’m, uh, guessing you are all here for the job too?”
░▄▀▄▀▀▀▀▄▀▄░░░░░░░░░
░█░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░▄░
█░░▀░░▀░░░░░▀▄▄░░█░█
█░▄░█▀░▄░░░░░░░▀▀░░█
█░░▀▀▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░█░░▄▄░░▄▄▄▄░░▄▄░░█░
░█░▄▀█░▄▀░░█░▄▀█░▄▀░
░░▀░░░▀░░░░░▀░░░▀░░░
[A]
A short, wiry elf with pale skin sits, hands at her sides, resting on what are probably dagger handles, judging by her dark leathers. She has long, black hair in a braid behind her back, and turquoise eyes that often dart around, as though she's constantly on the lookout. Nothing can be discerned from her expression--her countenance is stony and unreadable.
"Araleth," she says. "And yes for myself, though I can't speak for anyone else here."
Amidst the raucous cheers and laughter, a tall woman stands out. She commands attention with her confident posture, her face adorned with an array of piercings that catch the light and shine briefly just as brightly as her smile.
There at the back, she stands across from a man, whose hand she holds, but not fondly. "Come on, mate. You can do it!" Her laughter rings out as the man's face reddens with the strain of trying to resist her strength, while she holds an unwavering grip. "If that's all you have, old man, I'm bored." Effortlessly, she firmly forces his hand to the table.
Despite the cheers and jeers, the woman waves off that corner of the room, seeking someone new to challenge. Her eyes fall on the growing table of adventurers. She grins as she holds out her hand to one of them. "Well met, name's Agatha. Say... want to fisticuffs?"
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
At the entrance is a young human with auburn hair tied in a ponytail in the back and a large satchel at his side. Seeing the tavern so full of adventurers, he can’t help but smile. He waves hello to the grumpy dwarf and addresses him with a familiar tone in his voice. "Busy day, hun?".
He then makes his way through the crowd, trying not to disturb the drinking and gambling tables, over to the booth where others have already taken place. As he arrives at the booth, he offers his hand to whoever will shake it.
"Hi everyone! Pleasure to meet you. I’m Olivier."
Quay looks at Agatha’s hand, looks at the crowd of people she has beaten, and looks back at the hand. “Um, sure. I guess I can try.” he says, shrugging. Quay takes off the glove on his right hand, and grips Agatha’s hand.
░▄▀▄▀▀▀▀▄▀▄░░░░░░░░░
░█░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░▄░
█░░▀░░▀░░░░░▀▄▄░░█░█
█░▄░█▀░▄░░░░░░░▀▀░░█
█░░▀▀▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░█░░▄▄░░▄▄▄▄░░▄▄░░█░
░█░▄▀█░▄▀░░█░▄▀█░▄▀░
░░▀░░░▀░░░░░▀░░░▀░░░
[A]
As the band ends one song and begins to prepare for the next, anyone keeping an eye on the room spots a human with vibrant red hair, light sea green eyes, and a mirthful smile on his lips stand up from a table towards the center of the room and look around before spotting the booth filling up towards the back of the room. You watch him share a few a few more words with the others at his table before making his way towards the booth in the back.
As he approaches you see he wears simple but well maintained travelers clothes in shades of seafoam green and sky blue. While he carries a backpack slung over one shoulder it's clear that his valued possessions are the lyre and flute he carries with him.
He arrives at the table and responds to Quay's question with a calming voice, tilt of the head to those already there, and a firm (though certainly not strong) handshake for Oliver. "Indeed, here for coin, food, and tales worth telling. Pleasure to make your acquaintances. My name is Leander." He shuffles out of the way of Agatha and Quay (he's clearly not the one to take on physical displays of strength).
Leander sees Agatha and Quay "greeting" each other and Araleth keeping a bit of a stoney complexion, and plops down before striking up a conversation with Oliver. "So, you said your name was Oliver right? Not every day I run into another happy traveler with red hair. Other than the coin and food what brings you to Goris? You from around here?"
Olivier sits beside the minstrel. Musicians always seemed to be so joyful to him, and this one was no exception. And much like other musicians he had met, he looked like he had been on the road for a while, and gathered many a good story from the wider world.
Though he enjoyed his life in Goris, he did have the itch to discover what the rest of the world had to offer.
"It’s actually Olivier. But that’s fine.", he corrected the bard. "I’m not particularly looking for coin and food. I have enough of it at home here. I’m mostly looking to meet new people and see what’s beyond Goris. You look like you travel a lot. What have you seen on your journeys?"
To Olivier's earlier question, the dwarf nods, his face softening in just the slightest as he recognizes the familiar face. The dwarf lets out a sigh before replying, "Always busy. Always."
"Good lad, don't be intimidated by strangers askin' ya weird favors. I'm a bit bored and you look like a strong fellow." She flexes her muscles and tries to go for the pin.
(At a conference and I am somewhere my character sheet won't load... so I'm rolling here 1+8 if athletics +4 if pure strength... I think.)
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
Strength Check: 8+3=11
As the match begins, Quay realizes that this wasn’t the smartest move as his hand gets slammed into the table. He winces, saying “Yeah, that hurts. A lot.” Quay rubs his hand, and as he does so a soft silver glow surrounds it, then fades away. “Ok, that’s better.“
░▄▀▄▀▀▀▀▄▀▄░░░░░░░░░
░█░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░▄░
█░░▀░░▀░░░░░▀▄▄░░█░█
█░▄░█▀░▄░░░░░░░▀▀░░█
█░░▀▀▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░█░░▄▄░░▄▄▄▄░░▄▄░░█░
░█░▄▀█░▄▀░░█░▄▀█░▄▀░
░░▀░░░▀░░░░░▀░░░▀░░░
[A]
"Olivier, my apologies. It's a bit loud in this tavern and I must have misheard, I'll be sure to get it right in the future. I can appreciate the desire to see what's out there, it's a large reason that I set out on my travels as well. I was fortunate to grow up in the a town called Siren's Perch in the Orikos islands so I heard the stories of travels all my life, it was an inspiration to get out there and see what was changing in Astoya, both for the better and worse. And well, if my songs could help raise people's spirits on the my travels then all the better.
As for what I've seen on my travels...hhuuuu," and Leander quickly slides his drink out of the way as Quay's hand crashes into the table near him.
He gives a quick nod to Agatha acknowledging her win before continuing... "Well a few weeks ago I ran into a skeletal salesman peddling wares a carriage pulled by flaming horses, said that he sold goods from the far flung reaches of Astoya...very expensive goods I might add. Seemed an odd fellow but good humored, and was gone as quick as he showed up."
What about you, any stories worth telling?
"What! You got them healing powers, then?" Agatha quickly takes a seat by Quay, inserting herself with zero decorum. "Can you heal a scar? I've had it ever sense I was a kid. Ugly bastard, too."
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
Olivier listens to Leander's story with admiration. To think that, somewhere out there, there was a skeleton merchant selling exotic goods was wild to him. When asked about a story of his own, his smile lightly dims.
"I...uh...don't know. I've no memories of who I was beyond about five years ago. I've lived in this town since. You don't really want me to talk about it." His smile comes back as he recalls a funny story. "I can tell you about this one time though. I was making this experimental poultice to help with this man's migraines. It was the first time I was trying this recipe. It included fermented onions. Now, I couldn't have expected him to use the entire container that very night. He ended up smelling like onions for an entire week, no matter how hard he tried to wash it off.'' He chuckles, hoping the bard will find this funny as well.
After exchanging story with Leandre, Olivier would turn to the rest of the group. "What about the rest of you? Any good story to tell?", he asks with a smile.
“I don’t think I can,” Quay says, shying away a bit and feeling very uncomfortable at how close Agatha is to him. “That’s for high level magic, I think, and I’m not that powerful. I mean, I’ve only been following my Eldertitan for 7 months.”
Quay turns to the others, a glum expression on his face. He says after a pause, “I don’t have any good stories. Not any that bring up any happy memories.”
░▄▀▄▀▀▀▀▄▀▄░░░░░░░░░
░█░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░▄░
█░░▀░░▀░░░░░▀▄▄░░█░█
█░▄░█▀░▄░░░░░░░▀▀░░█
█░░▀▀▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░█░░▄▄░░▄▄▄▄░░▄▄░░█░
░█░▄▀█░▄▀░░█░▄▀█░▄▀░
░░▀░░░▀░░░░░▀░░░▀░░░
[A]
It is at this point in your conversations when some of your attentions begin to drift toward the front of the tavern, where a dark-skinned halfling holding a stack of disorderly papers has just entered. The dwarf is grumbling at him in frustration as he pours a drink, but the halfling's face seems to still be filled with a joyous smile nonetheless.
The halfling takes one of the smallest cups of beer you have ever seen and makes his way toward your booth, striding over as fast as he can without spilling his drink. Olivier, you recognize this figure immediately. He sits down wherever he can fit in the booth, his shoulders barely rising above the table. "Good evening," he says with a grin as he plops down the stack of papers onto the table. His face is dripping with sweat and his grey formal vest is unbuttoned and smattered with mud. "Sorry for the wait, it's..." He trails off, breathing heavy. He conjures a smile back onto his face even after the previous one fell. He takes a small sip of his drink before continuing. "It's crazy out there." His eyes scan around the table, lingering a bit on the familiar face of Olivier. "Name's Arvick. Pleased to meet all of you!" After another few big breaths of air, he asks, "Is everyone here from the sign?"
"No," Araleth says tightly in response to Olivier's question. "Nothing."
When Arvick comes to the table, she replies, "I believe so."
"Well met Arvick, the name's Leander," and he gives him a firm handshake. "I'm not sure about the others but I am here about the sign."
“I‘m here for the sign,” Quay replies to the halfling, trying to get some room while Agatha squishes him against the wall. “My name is Quay. I guess I wouldn’t want to pass up free food and a bit of coin.”
░▄▀▄▀▀▀▀▄▀▄░░░░░░░░░
░█░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░▄░
█░░▀░░▀░░░░░▀▄▄░░█░█
█░▄░█▀░▄░░░░░░░▀▀░░█
█░░▀▀▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█
░█░░▄▄░░▄▄▄▄░░▄▄░░█░
░█░▄▀█░▄▀░░█░▄▀█░▄▀░
░░▀░░░▀░░░░░▀░░░▀░░░
[A]
Olivier recognizes the halfling. Seeing him here feels odd to the young man. The Rian-Gatra is usually too busy with business of the town to come drink in the tavern. He's curious with what brings him here today, as well as what he was doing that got him in such a state.
"Hello Arvick. You look like you've been busy. As always. So you're the one who posted that sign? What's going on?"