"Your drinks, sirs. One for you, master dwarf," she says, putting a tankard beside the bowl of stew, "and one, two, three for you."
It's midafternoon in the common room of the Horse and Hound. Few of the tables are occupied, but the servers are busy, preparing for the dinner rush. At one table, a dwarf sits across from a man easily thrice his size who's working on four whole roasted chickens. One has already been picked clean.
"Thanks, Elise," says the giant. Even seated, he can look the server in the eye.
"Anything for you, Carter," says the young lady. Smiling, she twirls around and goes back to the kitchen.
Gundren Rockseeker breaks off a hunk of bread and dipped it in his stew. "That's just about it. You're loaded and ready to be off in the morning." He eats and chews thoughtfully.
"Will you two be there when we get there?" Carter asks, starting on the second chicken.
Gundren shrugs. He swallows, and explains, "Sildar will be there, but me? It'll depend on my brothers. They can drag their feet sometimes, but I'd like to be leaving about the time you get started. No need to stick around longer than necessary. Oh! That reminds me," he adds. The dwarf pulls out his purse and starts laying some coins out on the table. "I want you to bring a couple friends with you. If it takes an extra day to find 'em, that's fine. It's just getting rough in town."
Carter says nothing, but his skeptical look speaks volumes. At over seven feet tall and five hundred pounds, he's not an easy target.
"I know, I know," concedes the dwarf. "You fight gangs for local charities. But I want you to have more eyes watching your back."
The big man shrugs. "You got it, boss," he replies. He picks up the coins one by one with his thick sausage fingers. "I'll have Naomi find someone."
Gundren nods. "Good plan. She's got a knack for that sort of thing," he agrees.
They sit in silence, the dwarf wolfing down his meal while the colossus across the table picks at his carefully. Soon the smaller one finishes and makes his farewells, leaving the larger to finish his meal in peace.
Not long after Gundren's departure, a pair of humans enter the tavern. Both are dark of hair and eye and with vaguely similar faces and vastly different demeanors. The taller is a slender young man with bright blue cloak and a lyre slung over his shoulder. He smiles at the staff and makes his way to the stage, where he begins tuning his instrument. The shorter is a stocky young woman, broad of shoulder, with a dagger at her belt and a chip on her shoulder. She pulls out a chair at a table by the door and sits heavily before putting her feet up on an adjacent chair. She puts a hand to her forehead as if she has a headache, then slams the hand down on the table angrily.
Elise jumps at the sound. She gives other young woman a stern look as she comes over. "Try not to break the furniture, Alora," she chides. "Sounds like another rough day. Your usual?"
Alora sighs. She takes her black boots off the chair and brushes off her dark blue trousers. "My apologies, Elise," she grumbles. "I'm not mad. At least, not at you. We just got back from the temple," she explains darkly.
The barmaid is immediately sympathetic. "It didn't work? Gods, what else can you do?"
Alora shakes her head. "They want to try an antimagic treatment. Antimagic!" she repeats angrily. "They've already bled us dry with their restorations and curse removals. Now antimagic?" She scowls darkly. "They don't even know what's wrong with him. Blasted clerics!"
Elise frowns and shoots a quick look at Carter, who seems absorbed in picking apart his last chicken.
"Easy, little sis," interjects the minstrel. He plucks at one of the strings of his lyre while he tightens it slightly. He flashes a dazzling smile at Elise. "I think she's a bit stressed, don't you?" He strums his instrument, now in perfect tune.
Alora straightens her vest and gives the musician a glare. "Shut up, Aleric," she snaps. "Maybe you should help out a bit. Do you think Mom can take care of Dad alone like this?"
Aleric smiles brightly at his sister. "Yes," he answers plainly. "Yes, I do. And if you're upset enough to air out our difficulties in front of everyone," he adds, with a gesture that takes in the whole of the common room, "then perhaps you need to get away. Clear your head."
Abashed, Alora looks around. The few patrons in the Horse and Hound were almost all looking anywhere but at her, but obviously paying attention. "You're right," she concedes. Finally she rises. "I'm sorry, Elise. I've delivered your entertainment; I should be getting home."
Elise looks desperately at Carter, but he seems to be the only person in the room not paying attention to the drama. "Make sure you're back," she says to Alora. "Some nights Aleric can't walk home straight."
Alora finds this odd, and gives Elise a sideways look. "Oookay," she replies. "I'll come back for him." With one last backward glance, she departs.
Once the dinner rush subsides, tables start to empty and refill, and the entertainment begins. As the sound of boisterous revelry swirls into the night, a small figure slips in, unnoticed by the raucous crowd. The halfling wears a cornflower tunic over sandy trousers, and her red ponytail bobs through the crowd as she wends her wait to Carter's table. She climbs up and kneels on the chair opposite him, and sighs in relief. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"
Carter taps his finger on the table in time to the music. The table is newer than the others in the common room, and the chair he sits in is comfortable. Both are built for his size. He gives the halfling a shrug. "Master Caldman gave Jak the night off, since I'm here," he relates casually. "He's throwing in a platter of potatoes and free ale. And Aleric's having a good night. So..." he shrugs again. "Not a bad night."
He pauses, and right on cue, Elise lugs the platter of mashed potatoes to the table - easily ten pounds' worth. She gives the big man a significant look before resuming her duties.
The potatoes are bright with butter and cheese, and greens are mixed in. Carter takes his first bite and chews thoughtfully. "Perfect," he pronounces. He gathers up another spoonful. "So...what do you think of Aleric?" he inquires.
The halfling frowns, a bit puzzled. "He's talented enough, I guess." She watches the jongleur lead the crowd in a raucous chorus. "You're right, he's really got the crowd going." She turns back and gives Carter a wry smile. "A good night, indeed - especially for Master Caldman. The ale is flowing, and he's got a free bouncer for the night. Well, one for the price of some potatoes. Jak costs more, I'm sure."
Carter shrugs. "But these are good potatoes," he counters, only half in jest. The mashed potatoes are delicious. He takes another bite as he considers how to continue. "No...Gundren wants us to bring an extra couple of people with us. He almost seemed embarrassed to ask, but something has him uneasy. So I thought Aleric might be a good choice."
The larger man shakes his head. "Naomi, he wasn't worried about wolves. He was worried about town. He said things were getting rough in town, and he wanted more pairs of eyes watching out." He takes a sip of his ale. "Things were...well, not so bad last time I was in Phandalin, but it's been a year or so. I don't know." He shrugs his massive shoulders.
Naomi frowns thoughtfully. "In town? That's odd." Then her eyes light up. "Clever man! A minstrel is everyone's friend. Yeah," she agrees, "That's a good idea." She pauses a moment to get Elise's attention. The barmaid keeps looking at the door, distracted, but Naomi is able to get a half of mead. "And if we recruit Aleric...that means Alora, right? Is she on leave?"
As if on cue, Alora returns to the Horse and Hound. She scans the room for the brief second it takes before Elise intercepts her. Alora's expression turns from reproachful to amused to skeptical to hopeful as Elise speaks to her earnestly. As the barmaid speaks, she gestures a few times towards Carter and Aleric. Finally the soldier nods and approaches Carter, and the barmaid goes about her business.
Alora doesn't sit. "I hear you're looking for some help, Carter," she says. "That's new. Going somewhere hot?"
Naomi gestures to a chair and answers for Carter. "We've got a load to deliver to Phandalin. We're not worried about the road - we've done this a hundred times." The halfling takes a drink. "But we've heard that the town has gotten...unpleasant. So what we're really looking for is your brother. Minstrels and all...you get the picture. Everyone's friend." She shrugs. "I wouldn't mind an extra set of eyes, but you'd have to check in with your CO, and we want to get on the road in the morning."
Alora takes a seat and shakes her head. "My brother? Out there? He's practically a child," she scoffs. "No, he's not going anywhere without me. Fortunately," she adds, leaning back in her seat, "my unit just got back from deployment last week, and I have a couple weeks' leave. What time in the morning do you need us here?"
Carter answers this one. "I'll be here late, keeping an eye on things for Master Caldman. Your brother won't be ready any earlier than I am." He frowns thoughtfully. "I want to be on the road by eight-thirty, so get here by quarter after," he decides.
Carter nods. "Half up front," he confirms, sliding a small purse across the table. Beside his hand, it seems like such a small thing. "You'll be there?"
"I'll have him here. I can't guarantee he'll be entirely sober, but we'll be here," she confirms. She scooches her chair to give herself a better view of the stage and to give Carter a better view of the room. As she does, she pockets the purse. Beaming, Elise comes over to take her order.
Among the patrons enjoying Aleric's performance is a traveler with a pack by his side. Though his armor is stowed, he still wears a rapier at his hip. He's slender of build, with tanned skin and dark hair. He's been nursing the same tankard of ale all night and surreptitiously glancing at Carter's table. As the crowd lets out, he's one of the poorer ones who opt to sleep in the common room.
Carter is used to glances and looks and stares, so one more traveler gawking makes little difference to him; this one isn't the first and will certainly not be the last.
The bartender announces last call, and the slower music starts. The regulars shuffle home; the visitors shuffle to their rooms; a few, including this fellow. Carter exchanges a nod with Master Caldman and rises. He makes his farewells and heads to his room on the first floor.
Alora waits until Aleric is finished and settles up with Master Caldman before getting up to escort the musician home. Her face is a mix of emotions. "That was quite a performance tonight," she admits as they begin walking home. "I'm really surprised. You're getting pretty good."
Aleric's cocky half-grin gets bigger. "Is this praise? From my sister?" he says with mock incredulity. "It was quite a...magical performance." He seems quite pleased with his cleverness.
Alora tries to walk that back a bit. "Oh, it was special, all right. I mean, you're done for the night, but still sober. That's quite a feat."
"Ah, but the night is still young," replies Aleric.
His sister is silent for a moment, searching for an angle. "How would you like to take it on the road? Just the next town over...see how it goes."
Aleric frowns at his sister. "That doesn't sound like you. What's on your mind?"
"Carter and Naomi are going to Phandalin. We're going with them, in the morning." Alora puts her hand up, cutting off Aleric's protests. "They're paying. Gold."
"Oh." It's Aleric's turn to walk in silence. As they reach the house, his cocky grin returns. "Of course they are. Bards are in big demand, after all. I'm glad they're letting you tag along, though." He turns and adds, "You can be my first roadie!"
Alora rolls here eyes. "Bard, my foot. I hope there's room in the cart for your ego."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As the throng disperses, Naomi uses the visual chaos to slip out the back door to the stables (Stealth: 18). There's a cart in the stables, laden with goods bound for Phandalin. The halfling clambers up the ladder to the hayloft, where she beds down for the night.
(Edit: undid the autocorrect of throng to throne. The original roll came to 15.)
"Your drinks, sirs. One for you, master dwarf," she says, putting a tankard beside the bowl of stew, "and one, two, three for you."
It's midafternoon in the common room of the Horse and Hound. Few of the tables are occupied, but the servers are busy, preparing for the dinner rush. At one table, a dwarf sits across from a man easily thrice his size who's working on four whole roasted chickens. One has already been picked clean.
"Thanks, Elise," says the giant. Even seated, he can look the server in the eye.
"Anything for you, Carter," says the young lady. Smiling, she twirls around and goes back to the kitchen.
Gundren Rockseeker breaks off a hunk of bread and dipped it in his stew. "That's just about it. You're loaded and ready to be off in the morning." He eats and chews thoughtfully.
"Will you two be there when we get there?" Carter asks, starting on the second chicken.
Gundren shrugs. He swallows, and explains, "Sildar will be there, but me? It'll depend on my brothers. They can drag their feet sometimes, but I'd like to be leaving about the time you get started. No need to stick around longer than necessary. Oh! That reminds me," he adds. The dwarf pulls out his purse and starts laying some coins out on the table. "I want you to bring a couple friends with you. If it takes an extra day to find 'em, that's fine. It's just getting rough in town."
Carter says nothing, but his skeptical look speaks volumes. At over seven feet tall and five hundred pounds, he's not an easy target.
"I know, I know," concedes the dwarf. "You fight gangs for local charities. But I want you to have more eyes watching your back."
The big man shrugs. "You got it, boss," he replies. He picks up the coins one by one with his thick sausage fingers. "I'll have Naomi find someone."
Gundren nods. "Good plan. She's got a knack for that sort of thing," he agrees.
They sit in silence, the dwarf wolfing down his meal while the colossus across the table picks at his carefully. Soon the smaller one finishes and makes his farewells, leaving the larger to finish his meal in peace.
Not long after Gundren's departure, a pair of humans enter the tavern. Both are dark of hair and eye and with vaguely similar faces and vastly different demeanors. The taller is a slender young man with bright blue cloak and a lyre slung over his shoulder. He smiles at the staff and makes his way to the stage, where he begins tuning his instrument. The shorter is a stocky young woman, broad of shoulder, with a dagger at her belt and a chip on her shoulder. She pulls out a chair at a table by the door and sits heavily before putting her feet up on an adjacent chair. She puts a hand to her forehead as if she has a headache, then slams the hand down on the table angrily.
Elise jumps at the sound. She gives other young woman a stern look as she comes over. "Try not to break the furniture, Alora," she chides. "Sounds like another rough day. Your usual?"
Alora sighs. She takes her black boots off the chair and brushes off her dark blue trousers. "My apologies, Elise," she grumbles. "I'm not mad. At least, not at you. We just got back from the temple," she explains darkly.
The barmaid is immediately sympathetic. "It didn't work? Gods, what else can you do?"
Alora shakes her head. "They want to try an antimagic treatment. Antimagic!" she repeats angrily. "They've already bled us dry with their restorations and curse removals. Now antimagic?" She scowls darkly. "They don't even know what's wrong with him. Blasted clerics!"
Elise frowns and shoots a quick look at Carter, who seems absorbed in picking apart his last chicken.
"Easy, little sis," interjects the minstrel. He plucks at one of the strings of his lyre while he tightens it slightly. He flashes a dazzling smile at Elise. "I think she's a bit stressed, don't you?" He strums his instrument, now in perfect tune.
Alora straightens her vest and gives the musician a glare. "Shut up, Aleric," she snaps. "Maybe you should help out a bit. Do you think Mom can take care of Dad alone like this?"
Aleric smiles brightly at his sister. "Yes," he answers plainly. "Yes, I do. And if you're upset enough to air out our difficulties in front of everyone," he adds, with a gesture that takes in the whole of the common room, "then perhaps you need to get away. Clear your head."
Abashed, Alora looks around. The few patrons in the Horse and Hound were almost all looking anywhere but at her, but obviously paying attention. "You're right," she concedes. Finally she rises. "I'm sorry, Elise. I've delivered your entertainment; I should be getting home."
Elise looks desperately at Carter, but he seems to be the only person in the room not paying attention to the drama. "Make sure you're back," she says to Alora. "Some nights Aleric can't walk home straight."
Alora finds this odd, and gives Elise a sideways look. "Oookay," she replies. "I'll come back for him." With one last backward glance, she departs.
Once the dinner rush subsides, tables start to empty and refill, and the entertainment begins. As the sound of boisterous revelry swirls into the night, a small figure slips in, unnoticed by the raucous crowd. The halfling wears a cornflower tunic over sandy trousers, and her red ponytail bobs through the crowd as she wends her wait to Carter's table. She climbs up and kneels on the chair opposite him, and sighs in relief. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"
Carter taps his finger on the table in time to the music. The table is newer than the others in the common room, and the chair he sits in is comfortable. Both are built for his size. He gives the halfling a shrug. "Master Caldman gave Jak the night off, since I'm here," he relates casually. "He's throwing in a platter of potatoes and free ale. And Aleric's having a good night. So..." he shrugs again. "Not a bad night."
He pauses, and right on cue, Elise lugs the platter of mashed potatoes to the table - easily ten pounds' worth. She gives the big man a significant look before resuming her duties.
The potatoes are bright with butter and cheese, and greens are mixed in. Carter takes his first bite and chews thoughtfully. "Perfect," he pronounces. He gathers up another spoonful. "So...what do you think of Aleric?" he inquires.
The halfling frowns, a bit puzzled. "He's talented enough, I guess." She watches the jongleur lead the crowd in a raucous chorus. "You're right, he's really got the crowd going." She turns back and gives Carter a wry smile. "A good night, indeed - especially for Master Caldman. The ale is flowing, and he's got a free bouncer for the night. Well, one for the price of some potatoes. Jak costs more, I'm sure."
Carter shrugs. "But these are good potatoes," he counters, only half in jest. The mashed potatoes are delicious. He takes another bite as he considers how to continue. "No...Gundren wants us to bring an extra couple of people with us. He almost seemed embarrassed to ask, but something has him uneasy. So I thought Aleric might be a good choice."
The little woman's jaw dropped. "Aleric? What is he going to do, Carter, sing the wolves a lullaby or something?" she asks incredulously.
The larger man shakes his head. "Naomi, he wasn't worried about wolves. He was worried about town. He said things were getting rough in town, and he wanted more pairs of eyes watching out." He takes a sip of his ale. "Things were...well, not so bad last time I was in Phandalin, but it's been a year or so. I don't know." He shrugs his massive shoulders.
Naomi frowns thoughtfully. "In town? That's odd." Then her eyes light up. "Clever man! A minstrel is everyone's friend. Yeah," she agrees, "That's a good idea." She pauses a moment to get Elise's attention. The barmaid keeps looking at the door, distracted, but Naomi is able to get a half of mead. "And if we recruit Aleric...that means Alora, right? Is she on leave?"
As if on cue, Alora returns to the Horse and Hound. She scans the room for the brief second it takes before Elise intercepts her. Alora's expression turns from reproachful to amused to skeptical to hopeful as Elise speaks to her earnestly. As the barmaid speaks, she gestures a few times towards Carter and Aleric. Finally the soldier nods and approaches Carter, and the barmaid goes about her business.
Alora doesn't sit. "I hear you're looking for some help, Carter," she says. "That's new. Going somewhere hot?"
Naomi gestures to a chair and answers for Carter. "We've got a load to deliver to Phandalin. We're not worried about the road - we've done this a hundred times." The halfling takes a drink. "But we've heard that the town has gotten...unpleasant. So what we're really looking for is your brother. Minstrels and all...you get the picture. Everyone's friend." She shrugs. "I wouldn't mind an extra set of eyes, but you'd have to check in with your CO, and we want to get on the road in the morning."
Alora takes a seat and shakes her head. "My brother? Out there? He's practically a child," she scoffs. "No, he's not going anywhere without me. Fortunately," she adds, leaning back in her seat, "my unit just got back from deployment last week, and I have a couple weeks' leave. What time in the morning do you need us here?"
Carter answers this one. "I'll be here late, keeping an eye on things for Master Caldman. Your brother won't be ready any earlier than I am." He frowns thoughtfully. "I want to be on the road by eight-thirty, so get here by quarter after," he decides.
The soldier nods curtly. "We'll need something up front, of course."
Carter nods. "Half up front," he confirms, sliding a small purse across the table. Beside his hand, it seems like such a small thing. "You'll be there?"
"I'll have him here. I can't guarantee he'll be entirely sober, but we'll be here," she confirms. She scooches her chair to give herself a better view of the stage and to give Carter a better view of the room. As she does, she pockets the purse. Beaming, Elise comes over to take her order.
Alora smiles. Her brother is having a good night.
Among the patrons enjoying Aleric's performance is a traveler with a pack by his side. Though his armor is stowed, he still wears a rapier at his hip. He's slender of build, with tanned skin and dark hair. He's been nursing the same tankard of ale all night and surreptitiously glancing at Carter's table. As the crowd lets out, he's one of the poorer ones who opt to sleep in the common room.
Carter is used to glances and looks and stares, so one more traveler gawking makes little difference to him; this one isn't the first and will certainly not be the last.
The bartender announces last call, and the slower music starts. The regulars shuffle home; the visitors shuffle to their rooms; a few, including this fellow. Carter exchanges a nod with Master Caldman and rises. He makes his farewells and heads to his room on the first floor.
Alora waits until Aleric is finished and settles up with Master Caldman before getting up to escort the musician home. Her face is a mix of emotions. "That was quite a performance tonight," she admits as they begin walking home. "I'm really surprised. You're getting pretty good."
Aleric's cocky half-grin gets bigger. "Is this praise? From my sister?" he says with mock incredulity. "It was quite a...magical performance." He seems quite pleased with his cleverness.
Alora tries to walk that back a bit. "Oh, it was special, all right. I mean, you're done for the night, but still sober. That's quite a feat."
"Ah, but the night is still young," replies Aleric.
His sister is silent for a moment, searching for an angle. "How would you like to take it on the road? Just the next town over...see how it goes."
Aleric frowns at his sister. "That doesn't sound like you. What's on your mind?"
"Carter and Naomi are going to Phandalin. We're going with them, in the morning." Alora puts her hand up, cutting off Aleric's protests. "They're paying. Gold."
"Oh." It's Aleric's turn to walk in silence. As they reach the house, his cocky grin returns. "Of course they are. Bards are in big demand, after all. I'm glad they're letting you tag along, though." He turns and adds, "You can be my first roadie!"
Alora rolls here eyes. "Bard, my foot. I hope there's room in the cart for your ego."
As the throng disperses, Naomi uses the visual chaos to slip out the back door to the stables (Stealth: 18). There's a cart in the stables, laden with goods bound for Phandalin. The halfling clambers up the ladder to the hayloft, where she beds down for the night.
(Edit: undid the autocorrect of throng to throne. The original roll came to 15.)