The tavern Brixo and Wazzok alight upon is situated outside the Iron Tabernacle, and it is doing a roaring trade. Dwarves, humans, and halflings are gathered in the warm common room, and you have a difficult time finding an unoccupied table. The innkeeper, a red-faced female dwarf by the name of "Rosie," whips out the requested drinks and slams them on the table. "Four coppers for a mug of ale, a silver for a mug of mead." She stops abruptly when Brixo addresses her as 'king.'

Addressing Brixo and Morrig, Wazzok says,

"Eh, I don't think this is the dwarven king, my stone faced fellow, as noble and kingly as he appears. Well met, master dwarf! I am called Wazzok, and my eager friend here is Son of Ogremoch, and this little one as yet has not made her name known, but take no offense, she seems amiable enough and I'm sure has her reasons. Care to share what ails you, master uh...?" 

 She waits for the black haired dwarf to introduce himself, her hand outstretched in greeting. 

To Rosie she tilts her head in acknowledgement.

"Four mugs then for me and my new friends, with another four soon to follow!"

She slides a gold coin towards Rosie, and puts her hand over Rosie's own when she takes it, making it clear that the Rosie should keep the remainder.

"I'm Morrig Fireforge, pleased to make your acquaintance."  clasping the outstretched hand he sighs "I came to this city because I feel Moradin sent me and when I show up all the people are talking of is how the all father has abandoned them load of garbage if you ask me."

Rosie clutches the gold coin to her chest and bows. "Yes, yes, certainly!" She says, leading you to the most comfortable armchairs in the common room and relocating their original occupants in the process. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." She bustles off and returns shortly with the requested drinks.

"A pleasure, Morrig! It would seem certain to be farcical, the plans of the Gods are known to the Gods alone so they say, at least... at my mother's brothel."

Her eyes narrow a big as she regards her mead, then greedily drinks the entire mug in one tilt. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, her voice is somewhat muffled as she says,

"Have you spoken with anyone who has looked into it?"

(Whew, you guys are leaving me in the dust!)

"I've spoken to a few clerics of Moradin but they all say the same thing suddenly they just couldn't call upon the blessings of the all father."  Morrig takes a long drink before continuing. "If you ask me they gave up too quickly, they need to put more faith in the all father I'm sure there's a reason for this."

"This is very large building for non-palace." Brixo mutters to himself. 

"Good day Morrig, is your king on his way to speak with me?" He settles into the armchair, but will not stop fidgeting. After a few moments, he removes a pouch of dirt from his belongings and sprinkles it onto the supple leather, lowering himself slowly onto it and letting out a content sigh.

He raises his eyebrows at the tankard of ale as it is brought to him. "Oh this smells wonderful." He takes a gulp, and soon downs it in mimicry of Wazzock. "The best herb tea I've had in years!" He proclaims with a large grin.

"The king? I don't think the king would really come out to visit someone, if you have an audience with him we might be able to see him. But then there's the problem of getting an audience with him. Ever since that ranger left he's always locked away in the forge, which I understand is a great thing but still the things going on in Gauntylgrim need his attention." 

"Hmpf... well perhaps we should seek an audience with your king then? To be honest, my only purpose for coming here was to seek a master blacksmith under which to study the art. However, if there's a challenge to be had in seeking out whatever has darkened the city, I will stand to meet it."

She stands and slams her head against a beam, nearly cracking it. She sits down and takes a long pull from her second mug before saying.

"Ow."

"Let us be off to see king dwarf." Brixo stands, purposely headbutts the beam that Wazzock hit, then turns to her with a beaming smile. "Ow."

As they are leaving, Brixo addresses Morrig, "Does king dwarf speak terran? Or any of his friends? I miss good conversation."

Morrig downs the rest of his drink before following the others. "Sorry my friend, but I don't think you'll find many who speak your language most here speak either dwarvish or common." 

Cori has sat through the conversation quietly, content with just listening. "My name is Cori, by the way. Cori with an 'i' not a 'y'. If you want to give me a nickname though, I'm fine with that too. And you're right, these are rather fine drinks."

She finishes off her mug and decides to follow after the others. "I've never really spoken to a king before. He wouldn't mind a bunch of strangers coming to talk to him, though. New people are always fascinating!" 

(I'm just waiting on the last player to get situated before we go any further.)

(sorry about showing up late guys).

Chazrael walked quietly through the dwarven stronghold, observing the various dwarves, humans and other folks who walk along the streets. He quietly enters the tavern and removes his hood, scanning the room before he glances at the group. He goes up to the bartender and orders an ale and mutters something about the red-haired king before he walks over and sits in the chair. He squirms for a moment to make sure he is comfortable before glancing around the room. "Hello everyone," he says in a stoic voice. "I trust everyone got here safely. My name is Chazrael. You don't need to know my last name. Whoever wants to talk, go right ahead." 

(OOC: Assuming Chazrael is entering just as we are getting ready to leave)

Wazzock is standing up more carefully this time, making sure not to strike the beam as she stands and giving the genasi a humored look. She looks down at the new halfling, and squats down to try to get eye to eye with him. She's a bit too large, but settles and reaches out her hand in greeting.

"Well met Chazrael, the dwarf here is Morrig of the Fireforge lineage, correct me if I'm mistaken, and the other halfling there is Cori with an Eye but not a Why. The large fellow who appears to be made of stone is called Brixo, son of Ogremoch, and you may call me Wazzok, for the name of my late tribe. We were just about to make our way to seek audience with the King to try to find out more about what ails the great city of Gauntlgrym."

Noting his tone of voice and bearing, she says,

Are you some sort of... ah... official here? Should we speak to you about an audience with the king?

"Hello, Chazreal. Nice to meet ya!" Cori chirps. The halfling goes to hold out her hand, but puts her hand down as Wazzok already had her outstretched. She then looks up at the ceiling, at the poor beam that had been headbutted. An amused twinkle shines in her brown eyes as she seems to get lost in thought for a moment. Her attention then turned back to the conversation,

"The more the merrier, eh? And hey, you can't ignore a bigger group of people if they come asking! Though it might look like an angry mob... But we're not angry so it should be fine. We're looking for information, so that really shouldn't be much of a problem for anyone. And hey, maybe a solution too?"

The door opens quietly with a small puff of wind before swinging shut again.

Chazrael shakes their hands and shakes his head. "I am no official. This is my first time in the ancient city. Since you are all ready, we should go meet this king." 

Quote from Hydra1418 >>

The door opens quietly with a small puff of wind before swinging shut again.

 "Hmpf... that was odd, I don't remember it being windy outside before... no matter, let's be off."

Wazzok strides over to the door ducking her head and is happy to be outside again where the ceiling is high enough for her to stand erect. She holds the door open for her companions and then says,

"Master Morrig, we'll follow you, if you know the way." being a bit presumptuous.