The figure in the yellow monk's robe, known as the Black Rose, had been listening to the different conversations in the inn. "I might need a drink myself," he sniffed twice. "Is that dwarven ale I can smell? Barkeep, please bring me one." He looked around at the others sitting at the bar. Although his dead eyes made it seem impossible, he briefly stopped his gaze on everyone nearby. "What brings you fellows to this fine establishment?"

The minotaur behind the bar smiles and turns toward you, seeming to include you all equally in her gaze and words.  "Ah!  I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before!  Welcome to the Riverkin's Arms; I hope your stay is a pleasant one, whether you are with us just for the evening or overnight.    My name is Myrtea, and I and my partner will do our best to make you comfortable."

Now that you are closer, you can hear the faint sound of cymbals or bells as she moves her head from side to side.  At least, you think it is cymbals at first, until you see the small brass discs strung at intervals along the black braids of hair that curl around her horns.  They jingle as she turns her head towards the hearth and calls, "Glyn! We have new guests this evening!"

A moment later, a tall riverkin male emerges from the shadows at the back of one of the cozy fireside benches.  He walks over to the minotaur and confers a moment.  Then he gets a round brass tray from beneath the bar and places on it an ornately carved wooden stein and a more subtly decorated wooden tankard, and fills them.  He brings the first over to Morbrukk and nods to him.  It is not a nod he quire recognizes from his own culture, but definitely a nod of one who understands and wishes to acknowledge strength without demoting himself in the eyes of the one he greets.  "I'm Glyn.  You need any more, just call me.  Have a mighty time, just don't break anything too bad."

He then walks over to Erolith and smiles. "The bees were generous this honeying; I think you'll like their gifts.  As to stew, we have beef and lamb cawls to choose from, or leek and potato.  Those can be ordered with or without: today you can pick either currant or llymru dumplings."  He flicks the minotaur a sly glance and bends to whisper in the elf's ear, "Personally I'd pick the first.  When she gets her hands on oatmeal..."  He chuckles as he walks back to his fireside, seats himself on the closest end of the bench and quietly observes the room.

Meanwhile, Myrtea brings the dwarven couple a new round and then turns to her guests at the bar.  She seems not quite sure which one she finds more intriguing, but after a moment decides to speak to them in the order in which they entered.  She turns first to the Black Rose.

"Welcome, sir!  You seem like a gentleman who can take care of himself, but if you should require assistance with anything please don't hesitate to ask.  I knew a gentledwarf of your order in my younger days, and they had exactly the same taste in drinks, so I've always kept it on the menu since in case they should come wandering by again.  Please accept the first mug on their behalf and tell me what you think."  She hands him a mug and turns to Artifex.

"Hullo, dear.  You are most welcome; you remind me of someone I used to ... ah ... know."  She winks at them with a nostaligc and slightly goofy grin, then seems to shake herself back to the present.

""Would you like anything now, or will this suffice you for the moment?"  She points at the blue vial.

The Black Rose responded, "I appreciate the offer, but it won't be needed - for now, at least. But I must give my thanks for this wonderful gift." He lifted the mug of Dwarven ale up and took a sip, letting out a big sigh of relief. "I needed this. Nothing beats Dwarven ale, and this is quite good stuff you've got there."

Artifex looks down at the vial, as though they're seeing it for the first time. "Oh this? This isn't for me, in fact you'd probably get more use from it than I. As for a drink, I'd like something deceptively sweet, with a kick that'll surprise you. Got anything like that?" It's tone is airy and absent minded, giving the impression of one who's hardly even aware of where they are. It's fingers dance along it's arm, tracing their tattoos.  

Without waiting for an answer, Artifex turns it's gaze to Morbrukk. "That's certainly a very nice wolf skin, ever thought about adding some color to it?"

Quote from McColough >>

Somewhat reluctant to leave the preferred setting of the outdoors and the beauty and wonder of twilight, a lone elven figure enters the Riverkin’s Arms.

The slender elf quickly surveys the surroundings of the tavern area to judge the clientele and possible threats. His eyes suddenly become transfixed upon the wood elf maiden who is dancing in the room. It has been many moons since he has seen one of his own kind and the surprise to find one here is palpable.

After several moments of taking in the scenes of the dance and the musical interlude, fatigue from the journey prompts him to pull himself away from the spectacle.

He makes his way to the barkeep while keeping a side eye on the common area of the room.

”Well met, city dweller. Might I order a stew and a tankard of honey mead after a long days travels.”

The urge to place the special order is suppressed in order to better monitor the surroundings of the inn and its patrons. Taking his meal to one of the empty seats that allows the best view of the common room, he enjoys his stew and the elven entertainment.

The elf pauses when you enter. She raises one eyebrow slightly but does not otherwise immediately react; then she resumes her dance. This continues for some minutes, and she seems to be noting your interest and considering how to react. She waits until everyone has their drinks, then walks over to you and ... not smiles, but at least quirks one corner of her mouth upward briefly.  There are at least the embers of feeling there, as opposed to the absolutely cold ashes everyone else has so far received.  Then she speaks, briefly; nods to you once; and walks over to sit ar a stool at the far left of the bar, close to the small group who had been playing the music for her dance.

"Sae. Ath Tel' /* Ahnvae nai -lys
Salen Arael nha mertel; su hora'tel'quiet Arta Tel' / uvahlura. Na neh eithor.

Sil ... maedol, gwanur"

"Sae, of the Nightbreeze.
My heart is dead; he awaits me on the other side. There will be no other.

Still ... welcome, kinsman"

*in this world, the character which represents the wood elf letter the translators render as (emphasis).

Myrtea smiles at her customers.  "I'm so glad you like it, sir!  And as for you..." she smiles.  "I think a nice glass of raspberry metheglyn would suit you to a T."  She reaches down a bottle and pours some of the contents into a glass.  The rich ruby red of the fluid seems to glow in the light of flickering candles which she proceeds to light and place in empty bottles placed at intervals along the bar as evening deepens into night.  The thick coating of many-colored wax drippings on the shoulders of many bottles tells you this is far from a new custom.  And the metheglyn is all that you could have wished, starting with an innocent-seeming taste of raspberries and summer on the tip of your tongue that quickly blossoms into the full heat of Midsummer as notes of sinsir (ginger), clove, and honey distilled down to fire and light and the glow of golden summer days swirl and play on your palate.  The heat is such, and at the same time, the taste is so exquisite, you almost don't want to swallow, but you finally do, and the full fire diffuses through your whole being and warms you from guggle all the way up to zatch.

Artifex let's out a low whistle, visibly caught off guard by the depth of the drinks flavor, giving the sense that it had no idea what they were asking for.  Their smirk widens into a proper grin as they close their eyes for a moment, as though visualizing the flavors

(By the way, what translator do you use for elvish?)

After ordering a meal and enjoying the end of the dancing performance, I survey the room once again before rising from my seat and returning to the barkeep.

”Excellent stew and honey mead. However. I feel like my appetite is not yet sated. Do you happen to have any laverbread and leek cawl?”

I watch and listen for any responses or reactions nearby to this request.

The Black Rose turned and joined the conversation. "Well, that sounds like a dish I must try myself," he said. "I was told it would be a delightful meal. Let me have laverbread and leek cawl as well if it's not too much trouble."

As she notes Artifex' reaction to their drink, a pleased and satisfied warmth shines from Myrtea's eyes.  "It's so nice  when a patron truly appreciates the finer things on the menu.  I'm afraid we do have some gobblers and guzzlers here even among ...," she trails off as if thinking better of completing the remark.  She turns to begin preparing another, they're not sure whether for herself or for them; then she hears the laverbread and leek orders and her eyebrows rise a little higher.

"Well, now!  We seem to have more connoisseurs here tonight than I'd thought.  That order will take a little while to prepare, but I'm happy to have a chance to prepare it!  So few truly appreciate laverbread any more..."  She pauses, you think a little wistfully, and looks around the room.

"I suppose it's too much to hope that still more fellow gourmets might be present tonight?  In spite of what some  may have implied, we minotaurs don't actually eat THAT much at a sitting, and laverbread really needs to be cooked in large batches to properly shine -- "

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(elvish translators actually turned out to be a bit of a thorny problem for me.  I started out with the 'Common to Elvish (D&D) translator at https://lingojam.com/CommontoElvish(D%26D), which in turn is based off the Elvish dictionary on the larger Candlekeep D&D lore website (http://www.candlekeep.com/library/articles/diction_elf.htm).  The trouble with that turned out to be that a lot of words weren't translated at all just using the literal words, I had to figure out how a Faerun elf might phrase the CONCEPT the word conveys and type in a phrase that meant the same thing.  Since this is a homebrew world I figured it was OK if the Elvish spoken here had words drawn from more than one source, so I supplemented with Sindarin translators from Tolkien's world of which there are a good plenty online.  The one I used first was https://funtranslations.com/elvish which filled in most of the words, and I was able to get the rest of what I wanted from other Tolkien sites.

There;s actually a thread on the forums here which aggregates a lot of good D&D language translators; many of the links default back to the Lingojam site I started out with, apparently they have a lot more than just elvish.  The thread here is https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/dungeons-dragons-discussion/dungeon-masters-only/54689-comprehensive-d-d-language-translators).

Finally, I appreciate you reminding me about something I meant to decide on and forgot, which is how I would like OOC handled on this thread.  Doubt I'll be too much of a bear about it, but I think the standard way I'd like it handled is to write whatever your character says and does first, and then separate OOC remarks by putting them after a line of ===, ---, ___, or whatever other straightline characters are most convenient for you., like I've done in this post

"Siilen sal could san Al / Uskeche (L) aul Tel' / Wealdath..." Artifex mutters to itself, still in the process of admiring the drink they had just been served

Translation: ||That I could drink A Flame in the Unspoiled Woods...||

They look around at the others as they order, then back towards the barkeep. "Looks like the people have spoken. I'd be delighted to try some laverbread and leek cawl, especially if your half as good at making food as you are at making drinks."

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While we're on the subject of resources, I've found a website called OpenArt that will actually AI-generate a character portrait for you (among many other things).  How it works is that you click on their "Create" tab, and then type in a prompt and set parameters for the dimensions, DPI, and many other things.  They start you off with 1000 free credits, and finally sweet-talked me into signing up for Discord by offering 1000 more per day if you ... and that's where I forget, either if sign up for Discord with their link or if you follow them there.  The link is https://openart.ai/create.  You can generate from 1 to 4 at a time, and each costs you a credit. 

I've been playing around with it for Myrtea just coz most of the minotaur portraits here don't quite capture her PERSONALITY (lol).  I used the prompt "fantasy portrait of kind female Minotaur innkeeper with black braided fur, close up"; and I'm getting some interesting results so far; though since its not specific to D&D there's some human-featured women with horns and some IRL women wearing minotaur masks popping up occasionally in the results ... but hell, with a thousand credits to play with just for registering with OpenArt, and now 1000 more a day, I think I can spare a few misses (re-LOL).  And, after a few, it came up with her almost exactly bar that I told it to give her black hair and that was one of the elements taht was downplayed in this particular iteration.

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I didn't use the same generator but here's my character portrait just for funsies 

https://photos.app.goo.gl/TS4Qvfxs6ZnfEhRZ6

 The Black Rose turned to Morbrukk and said, "You sound strong and healthy yourself. Would you care to join us for a bite of this tasty treat?'"

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By the way, will dice rolls take place in this thread or will they be rolled on our character sheet and shown in the game log?

And how should we announce that we are going to roll?

Should we do something like this:

The Black Rose put his hand on the guard's shoulder and said, "If I assure you we are up to no trouble, would you please allow us to pass?"

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I would like to roll Persuasion/Deception (depending on if im telling the truth).

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Well, I'm actually not quite sure how to answer this one.

As far as the mechanics themselves go, I was mostly planning to have the rolling take place in the campaign logs and character sheets.  But as far as announcing you're going to roll ...  Well, no offense meant, but I'm really not familiar with games where the players announce what abilities they're going to roll in the first place.  The way I'm more used to is that the players would describe what their characters are doing or saying, and indicate perhaps things (like whether they are lying) that wouldn't be obvious to the PCs and NPCs on the scene; but then they would leave it up to the DM to decide which ability is appropriate and either roll it themselves or tell the player which ability to roll for.

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Sounds like a good plan and no offence taken :)

As if he had seen the smile, The Black Rose smiled back and responded, “Then it is settled,” before turning to Myrtea and saying, “Barkeep, please bring us one portion each.” 

After pausing a heartbeat (or perhaps two, no more), Myrtea nods.  "Yees, four to share with me is enough to get started, I suppose, though there might be some leftovers for the compost oubliette.  I'd hate to waste it, but we'll see ... someone else might drop by with a taste for laverbread while I'm cooking it.  I'll start you out with a complimentary bowl of cockles; that should tide you over till I can get this done."  She pulls out a a small lidded and handled pot from beneath the bar and rests her hand lightly on the lid's wooden handle.  When she drew it forth, spidery patterns of frost had webbed the sides and woven a net of ice that held the lid down, but as her hand rests on the wood the ice around that point begins to melt.  Soon the melting has spread to the point where she is able to lift the lid and dip a large scoop in.  She scoops up a bowlful for each of you of small, pearly blue shellfish, and hands the two at the counter a long, slender two-tined fork and a slender but sturdy knife that was clearly designed to slip in between the shells where a slender opening shows, and pry the thing open.  This is accompanied by two smaller bowls for dipping, one of melted butter and the other filled with a briny broth.  Glyn moves quietly forward when these are ready and brings Morbrukk and Erolith their portions.

While you are busy figuring out the most efficient way to get the knife far enough under the shells to slice the muscle that holds them nearly close, you watch Myrtea pull out a thick stack of dried and flattened sheets of seaweed.  She places another pot on the fire and adds these, well pounded, and some water.  Then she returns to the counter and begins chopping leeks, stopping every now and then to toss what seems like a carelessly grabbed handful into the pot that was on the fire at first (which seems to have been mostly emptied by the last helpings she had ladled from it, for the dawrven couple who are now busy stowing away incredible quantities of food).  Those of you close enough to notice, though, see that she is actually very carefully assessing the amount of leek on various parts of her cutting board and taking a much more exact quantity each time than was apparent from a distance.

The AI had a little more trouble with Sae and Glyn, but I think I finally got some more or less satisfactory results.  I would have preferred Glyn's moustache to be the same color as his hair, and though it might delight Erolith I HIGHLY doubt Sae was dancing naked, but you know what they say about beggars and choosers LOL