OOC:

You smell goat roasting and Merri sets a table for you three bringing out mead that is included in the room prices. Taking a stamp from her apron she looks at your collection of roses and smiles, "Well done to you all. Taking your pamphlets she drips grey wax over the bottom corner and presses her stamp into it. In this case it is a hammer and chisel with the name Circumdatos Lapis. "Present that to the mayor or the captain and you'll each get your prize money."

Zanryn finishes his wine and takes a quaff of the heady mead. "Not quite done yet", he says, "one more to go to make the full dozen". 

He looks at the flagon before him, already half finished, "Or ten more of these".

OOC: Bakers dozen you got 12 of 13

Mechanics: Give me a con check next post you do buxton. Lets see how how the mead is effecting you after the wine.

Zydalia eats the food with relish. She's not sure the last time she had such a hearty meal, and the feeling of having a full stomach is excellent.

She tries to keep pace with Zanryn on the drink, though she stays on the mead from the start. She is impressed by how much the shorter man can put away. *

"So, Zanryn, Durmatl," she says. "What brings you both to this city?"

Realising that he has been allowing himself to succumb to the effects of the drink, Zanryn snaps back into focus. As he tucks into the tasty goat meat he observes that Zydalia has, perhaps inadvisedly, been pacing him with the mead.

He sighs, and begins the familiar tale: "I was born to a noble family", he scratches his wispy hair, coincidentally showing the heavy signet ring on his finger, "but our home was taken from us, my kin slain and my rightful title and inheritance forsaken. One day, maybe one day, I shall return - but for now, I must make do as you do."

In the silence that follows this ambiguous proclamation, Zanryn drains his mead and signals for another, raising an eyebrow at Durmatl and Zydalia to see if they wish to partake.

Zydalia shakes her head, the effects of the mead having become apparent all of a sudden.

"I'd better not, or I'll be dancing on the tables," she replies. "And I prefer to save that for my second night in a new city."

"But yes, I'm just drifting, at the moment. Helping people out where I can, bringing a little more justice to places where it's needed. That sort of lifestyle is not held in high regard where I'm from. Just another of my attempts to distance myself from them, I suppose." As she speaks, she knows she's maybe being a little too honest, the mead loosening her lips, but who cares? What's the worst that could happen?

while waiting on him to post. if you roll 5-10 on a con your tipsy. 15 or higher you are good.

"Do you think you'll be spending a second night in this city?" Zanryn inwardly speculates that a second night in the city might be unlikely. It occurs to him that Zydalia and Durmatl may also be accustomed to keeping moving on in search of the next opportunity (or away from the last one). "100 gold between us is hardly enough to retire to a life of luxury. And if we find the elusive black rose before the Crowning of the Life Bringer tomorrow, I think our winnings may attract the kind of attention", he glances around furtively, "that we are averse to".

Con: 15

Zydalia thinks. "I suppose there's no reason to stay too long, but I usually stick around long enough to help at least one person out."

"33 gold is a lot for someone like me," she says. "I can help quite a few people with money like that."

She looks around the bar. She's not really done this yet, and she looks around for anyone that looks interesting.

"You have helped me out". More than enough mead, Zanryn realises belatedly.

Zydalia grins. "The roses?"

She reaches her hands into her lap, feels for the roses in her deep skirt pockets. "Yes, you've both helped me too. I think I might have been out on the streets tonight if it wasn't for our combined efforts."

Zanryn debates how much he should share of what was on his mind. Little enough, he decides. The Tiefling had a simple naivety that was pleasantly endearing, but caution warned him against further indiscretion. "Yes, those roses", he replies flatly. It crosses his mind that they have not yet seen their accommodations for the night - did the Dwarf Merri say room or rooms? 

Zydalia notices the flatness of Zanryn's tone, but she shrugs it away, not feeling as though she's really in a position to press him on it. 

She looks around the bar, still keeping an eye out for any interesting characters. Zydalia decides she will retire for the night if she can't spot anyone of note.

Quote from DrustriannaMithdetaryl >>

> Perhaps a segue for Bethozus to join? Though I'm very much up for hearing from NPCs.

Agreed. Also in #19 Durmatl overheard a conversation in the inn that sounds like it could become part of the plot:
"I cant believe we are being paid 1000 gold to trap some spirit." One says laying down his cards to take a drink from his mug. Another nods saying, "I still have a bad feeling about it though." To affirm this he pulled out a small chain and kissed the cross that once belonged to his mother. He lays his cards face down and stands. "You two finish im going to get the wagon ready." The man with scared armor shrugs. "Superstious bastard but easy money to trap a ghost causing a wee bit of trouble." He lays down a full house and begins to scoop the coins into his bag. Gather your gear lets get the job done and come back and buy the inn a round and have a bard pen our story."

> Also I believe Merri said 'rooms' in #90

Yep, it is Zanryn IC that was unclear - Merri's original wording (#30) was "give each of you a room" rather than "give you each a room". After all, it'd be fairly unusual not to just get the common room when it's being given away for free. Also 'rooms' still isn't necessarily 'single rooms'. Not that Zanryn has nocturnal plans, of course.

 

Looking around, Zydalia sees a new face; a dragonborn with dull yellow scales. They wear a silver robe, and an iridescent crystal seems to be embedded into their forehead.

Zydalia notices the sparkling crystal in the dragonborn's forehead before she notices the rest of them. "Good evening," she says, nodding in their direction. 

Zanryn follows Zydalia's gaze. The newcomer isn't hard to spot - to one of Zanryn's stature, they're an imposing figure even without the sparkling crystal.

To Zydalia he whispers, "An acquaintance of yours?"

"No," Zydalia returns, looking back to Zanryn. "It's just nice to see another outsider in a town like this."

She glances downwards, runs her finger around the rim of her mead container. "It's not easy, being stared at, whispered about, judged before you even get a chance to prove yourself." She frowns, furrowing her brow, balling her other hand into a fist. "It makes me so angry."