"J'zargo's company is not to your tasting?  Very well, my friends, be enjoying your evenings with the less-interesting people."  The tabaxi has a serious look on his face for a second, before laughing loudly and waving his new companions towards their respective targets.  He looks round the bar, taking in the patrons, particularly the dwarf, again.  "If the gnome and the kobold are drinking with those they find familiarity with, it is perhaps this one's bad fortune to be desiring to hear the stories of the wild-eyed dwarf, yes?  I am wishing he has been leaving the treasures in the jungles of this land untouched for us, no?  Please be accepting these apologies for my lack of continuing presence."

With that, he gets up and performs a graceful bow, before walking over to the dwarf and clapping him on the back as he calls to the bartender and slaps a silver coin on the counter.  "Mr. Wanderboots, an ahi for myself and me newest friend here!"

"The game's shovels n' graves. You know it?" One of the dwarves asks, rolling the dice. After you have played a round or two, bought them drinks, and effectively become their best friend, the dwarves begin to talk.

"The earth's rumblin' sumthin' turrible." One of them comments. 

"Old Gus says the whole mountain range'll collapse." The half-orc contributes eagerly. The others snort.

"Ol' Gus' brains 'ave been addled since his accident." The second dwarf says. 

"The earth don't lie." Mutters the third over his mug, and they fall silent.

J'zargo, the dwarf contemplates you through a jungle of matted hair and a wild beard. " I spoke to him." He says simply, his eyes distant. He takes a sip of the drink offered to him.

(Before meeting with the miners and leaving the original group) "Bah don't give me that!  I've been listening to your sly talk for six months, and I reckon I'll be listening to it for at least six more.  Don't get mad because I already scoped out the fun ones."  Fiddle slaps J'Zargo on the back with a drunken laugh.  "Have fun with your new friend!  I'll see you jokers in a while!"  He then wanders off.

After playing with the miners for a while and losing some copper to them, Fiddle gets a hang of the game, roughly breaking even for the initial minor losses he made.  He's glad these dwarves are playing for fun, and not to rob him of coin, because it took embarrassingly long to get used to it.

"Where's the rumbling happening?  Who's Gus and what happened to him?"  Fiddle keeps playing and having a great time, and he's very interested to get some of the word around the area.

"Kid, which mountain range is gonna collapse?  Any rumors why?" the gnome asks the teen.  "I've heard some tall tales, but that seems serious."

After winning a game, Fiddle gladly takes some of their coppers, pulling him ahead for the night... for now.

(Before leaving)

“It isn't like that, Jzargo, sometimes boring people have interesting stories, besides, you can talk to yourself and you'll be entertained.” and he skitters away.

Sobbi slightly falters at the gazes of two cold clerics, remembering the proselytizing nature of these servants to the Iron God, he pulls out again the amulet and hold it in front of them, with a grin too wide,“ Brother and sister, look at this, our patrons have the same origin, we are indeed brothers and sisters! Would you preach and share some of your patron's wisdom to a follower of his compatriot? Please!” Sobbi tries to beseech they with sincerity. 

Persuasion : 15

Silently she watched the interchange between J'zargo and Fiddle, chuckling low under her breath as she finished her second ahi. The Tabaxian was more sensitive than he led on and Fiddle was far more blunt. She couldn't know for sure if it was because she was female, but she housed a certain amount of sensitivity, even though at times it didn't seem enough. Still she said nothing as each stood to mingle among the crowd in the Tavern, not holding it against either to want to explore their surroundings through people, but also not as in an exploratory mood herself as the rest. She did though want to know about her homeland however, and she wondered if a both proprietor and bartender, Lam Wanderboot would know anything. 

Looking to Geralt, Aaron, and Akamu she leaned forward on the table, "you sure you don't need anything?" she asked the strange looking man, and then to the rare Arakocra and Akamu, "want another mug of ahi? I'm going to the bar to get one more drink, just not sure if I want more lava in my system." She felt lose and relaxed enough already, though not yet completely out of control - it was a good medium to be at. "So if there's anything, I'll bring it back with me." Waiting for their response a minute, she stood after she heard them and went over to the bar. Placing her arm comfortably on the bar top, she leaned in, waiting for an opening for when Lam could speak, "Mr. Wanderboots" she said with a growing smile, "anything else as tasty an ahi, but not quite so potent? I was also hoping you have some news of the Sylvan Wilds..." 

For the third time, the tabaxi knocks back the ahi, and places the mug back on the counter, slightly harder than he intended (for obvious reasons).  "Pray tell this one who you were speaking with, my friend, and were they good conversation, yes?"

Fiddle, the half-orc answers your questions while the dwarves continue to drink and play dice. "Gus is a deep gnome. His full name's Gusferblopludurvluppering," (He rattles off this name with surprising ease) "But we calls 'im Gus. He was buried under three tons of stone when the mine collapsed last month. Dunno how 'e dug 'imself outta that mess. We works in the Mahi Mountains, a mile or so east of the Dead Volcano. The priestess says the volcano'll blow it's top off within the month."

The clerics exchange a glance and offer Sobbi a seat. You learn a good deal about the Iron God from their words, including how he has sworn to return to the material plane to pass judgement when the hour is right. "You're willing to learn." The man grunts after he finishes ranting. "That's more than can be said for the damned pigfolk to the east." 

Lam pours you a glass of cold beer and scratches his chin. "The Sylvan Wilds... I've an elf staying here who says she's from those parts. Reclusive sort, doesn't often leave her room. She leaves early tomorrow morning for the north. Maybe she could give you some information."

The dwarf eyes J'zargo cunningly. He has clearly had one too many drinks. "And whyse... Whyse should I tell youse? That's my secret, innit?"

"That's... troubling.  How far away is that?  And why are you still working there?  That's got to be very dangerous.  What is down there that is worth risking your lives?  Also, who's this priestess?  Sorry, I'm still getting my footing here."

The half-orc counts on his fingers. “Three... four miles nor’east of ‘ere? We’ve discovered a vein of copper in the mountains east of the Dead Volcano. Good stuff, it’ll fetch decent money back ‘ome. Some o’ the boys are uneasy about the rumblin’s. They’s went to the priestess o’ Pele, goddess o’ fire and gods knows what else. She went on about how she’d been having these visions, where the volcano blew its bloody guts out and fire rained on Port Kopolua. Pigswill, if you ask me.” Though he puts on a facade of bravado, his eyes betray his nervousness.

Taking the glass, she hums her praise, the coolness of the beer a contrast to the fiery drink that made it all the more enjoyable in that moment. The news of an elf from her homeland staying at the Tavern was eagerly accepted as her eyes widened in pleasant surprise, "A recluse is she?" There were in fact many elves she knew that could fit that description, though there was a fair amount who were as extroverted as she was. Well, perhaps a little less than a fair amount. "Does this recluse have a name by any chance?" She wasn't exactly sure how well it would go to approach someone who usually preferred to be left alone, so having a name might help. Or serve to make the elf more paranoid - truth was results were always a toss up of unfavorable consequences, except for one. 

(I LOVE the Hawaiian theme here, by the way.  Have I mentioned that?)

Fiddle also feels uneasy.  He's heard about the eruptions, and he knows a little about them.  In a rare moment of lucidity, he says,  "Look, bud.  I don't know much about gods except the god of the Book from back home, and He and I have a casual relationship at best.  But I do know something about volcanoes.  I don't want to tell you your business, but if you smell weirder than usual stuff near there, see more steam than usual, or see the grass dying near there, I don't care how good the money is for the copper.  You and these gents don't go anywhere near it.  You can't spend your hard earned gold if you are buried like Gus.  You all deserve better than that."  He realizes he's gotten too serious.  "But anyway.  You mentioned home.  Is that here?  If not, whereabouts are you from?"

Geralt sits awkwardly in his chair, neither drinking nor eating. He watches the others, but decides to stay in place after around half a second of thought. 

(hooray for crap charisma! Antisocial lads unite!)

(Glad to hear you like the setting! I find Polynesian mythology to be very under-represented in the heavily westernized classic D&D settings, which is one of the many reasons I created Terra.)

"Leyl, Leyl Dawnmantle I think it was." Lam replies after ruminating for a moment. This comes as some surprise to Aramintha. Dawnmantle was the name of a prominent senator in the Council of Seasons when she still dwelt in the Sylvan Wilds.

The teenager drinks up Fiddle's words and nods vigorously. "Home's back in Legum." He gestures to the dwarves, who have fallen asleep at the table and are snoring loudly. "This 'ere lot hails from the Kingdom of Iron. As for meself, I'm from a nowhere backwater town called Raven's Nest. My name's Nott, if you wanted to know. Most people don't." He looks at your weapons with interest. "D'you have a lot of adventures?"

"Ha, I knew I liked you, kid.  I just got here from Legum.  I just got sent here by the Sapphire Institute.  We focus on developing technology for the Kingdom of Iron, where I'm also from." (Gonna need some DM help on that :P) "Nott.  That's a strong name, depending on how it gets used.  I mentioned my call name earlier, but my full name is Inakari Fiddlefen."  He polishes off the last of his ale, then smacks his lips.  He notices that Nott's attention is on his pistol.  "She's a beaut, eh?  I made her myself.  I've imbued her with some magicks that let me fire various elemental ammunition out of her for a while, and failing that, it'll still put a good hole in someone.  I haven't gone on many adventures, truthfully.  My life has mostly been in a lab so far.  That's why I'm here.  The Institute sponsored me to come out here and explore, with the expectation that I'll make something magnificent with my findings here."

(Lol, crap charisma and I agree, what you've got for Terra hooked me in, and then after learning of the Polynesian influence, just made me love it all the more.) 

"Dawnmantle" she echoed, the surprise evident in her face as she drank a little more of the cold beer absentmindedly. It took her a moment to register the information, but once she did, she took to Lam again. "Has she stayed before? That is, if you know that she usually eats breakfast before leaving at dawn." Aramintha had considered asking for her room number, but she felt it excessive. All she wanted was news, having been gone a few years, it was more to know if her family was alright by proxy of the her homeland being alright as well. 

Sobbi gulps when hearing the word “pigfolk”, glances by a plate of meat and asks, “Pigfolk…? What about them? I haven’t heard of them.” After that, “And what about an ancient primal horror, has your god tell you about it?”

J'zargo puts his hand round the dwarf's shoulder, and leans in close, giving the conversation a conspiratorial air.  "My friend, you are the one who is mentioning him, not I.  Come now, you can be telling me, I will not be speaking a word to anyone in this bar.  This one is hailing from the jungles far to the south and to the east of here, so perhaps this one is knowing of whom you are speaking, yes?"

Persuasion: 22

Nott regards Fiddle with awe. "I've been on one or two adventures meself." He says proudly. "I fought off a crab this big, once." Here he pauses to indicate with his arms that the crab was three feet wide. "The bastard nearly took off my toe, but he made a good supper." 

"She's usually the first one up in the morning." Lam replies to Aramintha. "Takes her breakfast while the moon is still in the sky."

Sobbi, anyone who is familiar with the area knows that there is a village of poaka, or pigfolk, to the east. They hunt in the jungles and raise simple crops. "Primal horror?" The woman looks confused. "I have no knowledge of this."

The dwarf sneezes and holds out a grimy hand. "Knowledge is money." He grunts. 

"Ha, that sounds like a monster of a thing!  That's bigger than me!  How'd you best it?"  Fiddle suspects that the kid's full of it, but sees no benefit in calling him out for it.