(Adventure) Heroes of The Vesper Peaks (Uriel judging)

[Creamsteak]

As the bar starts to get into it's regular swing for the night, one of the men across the table stands up at his chair. "So, should I play tonight? I've been working on a new song for this place, something to symbolize the fine love and happiness that free liquers provide me. Who is in such a spirit that they would enjoy some playing? Lydia will accompany my lute with the harpsichord in the corner! Won't you?"

A young lady armored in full plate winks back at the bard and raises her cup. "Sure, Nertle, I'll play. Even in these guantlets, I can make you sound amateur."

"What is it that ails you this day, Kreepto?" Jairik asks, slapping the kobold on the back. "Usually you only look this put out when the other miner's are taunting you. But as you are sitting alone, I can only assume some other matter of dire gravity has befallen you."

"Kreepto has worries for the mines. Kreepto was pulled out this week, but Kreepto also knows that there is something wrong with the way they are mining. They are mining away from the gems, upwords. Kreepto thinks that there will be problems if they do that, and this worries Kreepto. Foreman told Kreepto to ignore it, and let them keep working. Kreepto knows this is a mistake, but Kreepto also isn't the foreman."

"You have grog here?"

The heavy-set barmaid that answers your request puts her elbow on the table and looks into your eyes. "What, pray-tell, is a grog?"

 

[OldCrowe]

Wogar wanders through the streets of Ignussus, slightly wide-eyed.

"It's just like the books..." , he thinks to himself, taking in the sights.

He eventually finds stabling for his mule, and leaves his bow and polearm with his mount.

Wandering down the street, he feels his stomach grumble slightly, and quickly locates a vendor, and purchases a sack of his favorite snack, onions.

"What was the name of that tavern in "Sands of Death"", muses as he chews idly on an onion while walking down the street.

"The Father's Wish!", Wogar exclaims. "Oi! Boy-child! Where do I find the Father's Wish?" Wogar barks to a street tramp eyeing Wogar's sword.

The urchin points to a sign directly behind Wogar, "The Father's Wish".

Wogar frowns and walks in.

 

[wolfheart]

"Well met Jaret and Kunst."

Kunst, that name sounds vaguely familiar. (Bardic Knowledge) I just can't seem to place it.

"I fear you have come on a night when some are hell-bent on making fools of themselves." Jairik gives a weary glance at the loud mouthed bard in the corner.

"Mining upwards, away from the gems? It sounds like the heat has gotten to them. And you say they sent you away? Have you done work for this foreman before?"

Jairik's takes note of the hulking half-orc who just came through the door.

 

[jtone]

Greetings Jarik and Kreepto. My name is Jaret and this is Kunst. We just got into town today. I'm travelling to see the world and to learn more of the ways of the forge. As the nearest city, I thought Ignussus would be a good place to begin my travels. Jaret turns to Kreepto. I fear that I don't know much of mining. What kind of problems will there be if they mine upwards? Maybe the formen have been told of a rich deposit of gems that lies off the primary vein. Besides, if they've made a mistake, they'll get on the right track soon enough when they don't find any gems, right? Or is there something else that makes you worry about this?

 

[Creamsteak]

"Kreepto knows that something isn't right. Why do you mine up when the gemstone is down? The gems are at the base of the tower, not in the top. If they mine up, Kreepto doesn't know what would happen, but Kreepto can think of possibilities. Kreepto knows that the inside of the mountain leads into small pockets of air that kills men, heavy air, and sometimes things sleep for a long time in these mountains. Kreepto knows because this is how Kreepto lost brothers. Worst, Kreepto doesn't like the smell. Kreepto smells smoke, thick smoke, on the rock Kreepto pulls out. Kreepto can smell this smoke, but no-one else can, so Kreepto is worried."

 

[Quirhid]

Vanadan walks in the tavern. He looks like an orphan in the doorway. Some people stared at him. Vanadan felt like they were burning his very essence away with their eyes. Soon he returned the gaze with his cold eyes and people turned back to their drinks. He seemed to struggle with the idea of sitting at the table for a while, but then he gathered his courage and sat down near a kobold and his friends.

 

[OldCrowe]

Jairik's takes note of the hulking half-orc who just came through the door.

Wogar feels eyes upon him, and is drawn to a scene of what appears to be a sad-faced kobold bard telling a tale that seems to have raised the interest of several, as opposed to the awful singing coming from the dining area.

Wogar strides through the crowd, and makes his way over the gathering to see what is going on. Going to the bar, Wogar order's a beer:

"WENCH! FETCH BEER! NOW!"

The barmaid is so impressed by Wogar's manners, she looks like she'd rather scrub chamber pots than get Wogar a beverage, but seems to think that getting him a beer will be better than hearing him bellow, at the least, it will keep his breath inside his mouth.

When his beer arrives, Wogar slaps down a few coppers.

"Oooh, thank you, you pretty, maybe Wogar honor you with sons!"

At this prospect, the barmaid decides she has business at the other end of the bar, almost, but not quite forgetting her tip in the progress.

Wogar shrugs, "Maybe not", and takes his beer and drops the rest of his half-eaten onion into the tankard, and turns his attention to the kobold, and the man that was observing him.

 

[WayneLigon]

Nace wiped his forehead and neck with a rag to blot the sweat and dust from his skin. The day had been long, hot and tiring but at least it was profitable; standing as bodyguard for a fat merchant's wide while she wandered the bazaars and marketplaces. He'd even been pressed into service to carry purchases once her own servant was overloaded. He'd just shut his mouth and accepted it at the time. Coin had been hard to come by, the last few weeks and now he was reaching into his savings just for water, some bread and meat.

He wouldn't ask his father for money, though. Never. He could always go out into the wilderness and live from hunting but now.. now the city called to him, as it did sometimes. The streets and crowded taverns were like a second home, sometimes.

Today, though, he was tired and sweaty and with coin in his pockets. He headed for The Father's Wish, since then at least he could tip the barmaids well and if things worked out he might not have to sleep alone tonight.

He entered the tavern and waved to a few locals he knew, then made his way to sit and drink. Spying Kreepto, the kobold, he moved closer to the small being; Kreepto was a curiosity, certainly, and he seemed to be attracting more attention than usual tonight.

The youth got his drink and took a long pull from the watered ale he commonly drank, listening to the strangers talk. The mention of travellers caused his ears to perk up and he quickly wiped his mouth and spoke up as Jaret and Kunst made their introductions.

"Oh, travellers; then it's well met we are. My name is Nace Firewalker, and I'm a guide at times. Bodyguard at others. The desert is a dangerous place; you might consider my services if you've a mind to explore it." He continues to sip at his drink as Kreepto goes on and voices his concerns. The boy frowns and scratches some stubble on his own chin, obviously concerned as Kreepto mentions these dangers. His eyes cut to the minor scene by the door as Vanadan stares back at the patrons, then walks over to join the people around him; he gives the elf a quick glance, then he's looking back at Kreepto and the reactions of the people around him. His eyes flick quickly, trying not to miss a nuance or gesture.

 

[wolfheart]

Jairik eyes the three new arrivals that have taken an interest in the kreepto, wondering if he has brought too much attention to the downtrodden kobold.

He hears Nace's introduction, notes that he is a guide and knowing they are good friends to have, he introduces himself. "Well met Nace, I am Jairik, a bard of more skill than that cretin whose singing is assaulting your ears at the moment. If the drink were not free here, I would offer to buy you one. I have not known guides to travel with bodygaurds and scholars, though, you have an interesting entourage." Jairik gives a motion indicating he is talking about the elf and half-orc.

Returning his attention to Kreepto, "This smoke smell you speak of, little one, where have you smelled it before that you recognize it as an ill omen?"

 

[Lefferts]

"Grog made from rum. Don't know how. Gimme an ale instead."

OOC: grog is made from rum, sugar, lime juice, cinnamon, and boiling water.