Are there any players and a DM who would like to help me break D&D?

Peanut gives the tavern girl a grateful nod.

She settles in, to the best of her ability, and glances around the tavern, wondering who else received the summons.

The lady comes back with a glass of cold water and warm bread. She sets it on the table and walks away.

Flint rushes into the bar, cursing himself for being late while hurrying up to the counter, looking nowhere near old enough to drink. "Uh, have you happened to see a group of people, all adventurery and stuff, about 4 or 5 of em?" he asks the bartender hurriedly. "It's a summons from the king, and we're all meeting up in this tavern beforehand, and-" he continues to ramble on about the situation.

The lady says, "Slow down! Take a breath and explain."

Peanut's loaf of bread was halfway to her mouth when the stranger rushed into the tavern. He was looking for a group of adventurers? Summoned by the King? That didn't sound like a coincidence.

Peanut gently sets her bread on the plate and, hesitantly she stands up.

"Umm... excuse me, sir, but I think ya just might be lookin' for me," she says with a shy smile. "Name's Penelope, but... folks just call me 'Peanut.' It's nice to meet ya."

Flint, about to continue speaking, decides to take a deep breath and slow down. "Nice meeting you. I'm Flint. So, how'd you end up getting a summons from the king? Me, my old man saw the request for help, and practically shoved me out the door. I'm kind of a hassle sometimes."

The tavern had been open for hours, and Mask had been there the entire time. Standing motionless in a quiet corner, the dark blue warforged had done his best to stay out of the way of paying customers. At one point, a patron had even hung a coat over one of his shoulders before realizing he wasn't a piece of furniture. Mask had politely returned it.

So he waited...... And waited..... And waited some more.

When the dragonborn mentioned answering the King's summons and the young woman showed interest, a faint blue glow appeared behind Mask's eye lenses. Systems reactivated.
The warforged straightened and stepped away from the corner, causing several nearby patrons to jump in surprise. 
"Apologies," he said to nobody in particular. "I was under the impression that remaining stationary would make others more comfortable."

He approached the small group with measured, metallic footsteps. "My designation is Mask. I am also here in response to the King's summons." His gaze shifted between Flint and Peanut. "If you are forming an adventuring party, I would like to assist. Helping people is my primary function."

----

Image of Mask - Because embedding images on dndbeyond.com is a pain in the rear.

"Hey, we could always use extra help with this quest," Flint says off-handedly, suddenly looking up and seeing the warforged in his full stature. "Whoa, are you a warforged? I've read up so much about your kind. What is this metal? What kind of magic gives you sentience? Do you feel pain? How's the flexibility on these joints? How long ago were you built?" and continuing, circling Mask, poking and prodding at him, not realising that Mask may not appreciate such close inspection.

A wood elf enters the tavern without a care in the world. His well kept white hair helping to show off his beautiful headwear acompanied by a prestine white and red robe with gold accents. He seems like a noble, a young adult with fancy clothes.

With a carefree smile aproched the counter. "Can you give me your most popular ale? I'm going to meet the king and I want to have a little taste of this kingdom before I talk to him. And maybe later I can come back to taste more of what this kingdom offers." says while leaning on the counter.

The lady hands Charis a mug of strong ale and gives him a wink.

Peanut looks at the others who are gathering with a combination of reverence, comfort, and a bit of uneasiness. They all seem so powerful! What if they realize she's just a farm girl who got super, super lucky?

Still, she does her best to hold her chin up and stand among these legends. She does her best to answer Flint's question... in the process semi-intentionally distracting him from prodding the warforged.

"I... I got a bit of a reputation in my little town," Peanut says, choosing her words carefully. "See... we had a problem with a dragon there and... I... I guess it's 'cuz of me we don't 'ave a dragon problem now. I... I reckon the King heard the story..."

Quote from boss0tron3000 >>

The lady hands Charis a mug of strong ale and gives him a wink.

Charis winks back and chugs his ale without spilling a single drop.

Quote from Mister_Whisker >>

Peanut looks at the others who are gathering with a combination of reverence, comfort, and a bit of uneasiness. They all seem so powerful! What if they realize she's just a farm girl who got super, super lucky?

Still, she does her best to hold her chin up and stand among these legends. She does her best to answer Flint's question... in the process semi-intentionally distracting him from prodding the warforged.

"I... I got a bit of a reputation in my little town," Peanut says, choosing her words carefully. "See... we had a problem with a dragon there and... I... I guess it's 'cuz of me we don't 'ave a dragon problem now. I... I reckon the King heard the story..."

The wood elf couldn't help but hear the woman near him and moved closer to her as if they were friends already. "You killed a dragon? That's cool! How'd you do it? Nah, doesn't matter...still, that's badass. That's probably why the king called for you... Do you think it called us for the same thing or for 2 different things and he'll talk to us one by one?" asked without giving any time for the girl to answer. He then realized that she wasn't alone. "Sup! I'm Charis by the way." said while showing the back of his index and middle fingers as a general "hello" to the group while smiling like nothing happened.

"Hey hey! Barkeep give me a tankard of your finest ale! No wait wait, I'm broke...your cheapest ale!"

You see a Dwarf stump into the tavern, not unlike every other four foot tall, four foot wide dwarf. Uh except for the woody skin...and the leaves...and the smell of wet moss. 

"Anybody know where a Hero can get a job?!"

Mask remained perfectly still while Flint circled him, his glowing eyes following the cleric's movements.
"I am a warforged, yes."
Poke.
"I do not know what metal I am made from."
Prod.
"My creator never provided that information."
Another poke.
"I can feel pain. It is not entirely unpleasant. I would prefer if you stopped testing that." Despite the words, his tone remained calm and matter-of-fact.

"I was constructed approximately..." He paused for a moment. "Three hundred and seventy-two years ago. Give or take several decades. My internal calendar stopped functioning."
His gaze shifted toward Peanut.

"A dragon slayer." Mask nodded once. "That sounds useful." Then he looked toward the newly arrived elf in the immaculate robes.

"And a wizard." Another nod. "Also useful." For a brief moment, the blue light in his eyes seemed to brighten. The King's summons had attracted a dragon slayer, a cleric, a wizard, and perhaps others yet to arrive. A capable team. The thought was... satisfying.

"I believe our chances of success are increasing." Mask folded his hands behind his back. "I have been waiting several hours for fellow applicants to arrive. It is good to finally meet you." A brief pause. His monotone dragged on as if he was recalling something. "Has anyone actually been told what the mission is?" His eyes moved between the group. "Or are we all simply answering a summons and hoping for the best?"

The lady gives Hemlock a mug of cheap ale.

Flint looks around, looking practically ready to burst with questions towards everyone, but has decided to listen and hope he hears enough to satisfy his thirst to know about everyone. "So, we got..." Flint counts on his fingers, "2 warriors, a wizard, an artificer, a paladin, and me. The monk. Anyone know what sort of a quest requires such a ragtag group of people? The summons wasn't exactly specific." 

Peanut's cheeks turn crimson as she is declared "Dragon Slayer" yet again.

As Charis questions her, she opens her mouth to answer one only for the next one to come before she can reply. Eventually, when Charis finishes and introduces himself, she gives him a shy smile.

"I... I think maybe folks give me a bit much credit..." she says, doing her best to be honest without entirely disappointing everyone. "I... I got lucky is all. It's nice to meet you fellas."

She pauses, considering the questions of what the King could want of them.

"I... I don't right know what the King might need," she says. "But it must be pretty important for him to send messengers to find us all. Ya reckon he might send a messenger to meet us here soon to let us know?"

Quote from eldritch_rogue >>

Flint looks around, looking practically ready to burst with questions towards everyone, but has decided to listen and hope he hears enough to satisfy his thirst to know about everyone. "So, we got..." Flint counts on his fingers, "2 warriors, a wizard, an artificer, a paladin, and me. The monk. Anyone know what sort of a quest requires such a ragtag group of people? The summons wasn't exactly specific." 

 (OOC: as of now, only the 2 fighters, wizard (me), monk (you) and the artificer have posted. The paladin has yet to post her and in the pm)

The elf shrugs. "I don't know. We'll have to go and see." says Charis before going back to the counter. "Hey, the drink was really good. How much I owe you?" ask with a cheecky smile.

Quote from boss0tron3000 >>

The lady gives Hemlock a mug of cheap ale.

 She tilts her head back and pours the drink into her mouth and slams the tankard down.

Upon which the liquid flows over the branches of her body and splashes on the ground. She makes smacking noises and wipes her face with the back of her hand. "Mmm good!"

Taking a second glance at the floor, the drink is gone.

"You guys got a job? I'm coming!"