Chapter 5: The Whistling Fish

[Stonjuz]

Chapter 5.
The inn is built of the half-timber construction common to Greyhawk, but due to proportions, it towers above the neighborhood.
Gravel paths lead to the front door and to the adjoining stable. A long hitching rail runs along the front of the building. Although seven horses are tethered here, there is room for at least another dozen animals.
The proprtions of the stable are on a normal scale. The roof is nearly flat but is mounded in the middle and slopes glently toward the sides. Two goats are grazing on the roof. The doors to the stable are open.
The ten foot tall tavern door becomes increasingly active as the dinner hour draws near and other patrons can be seen entering.

[ragnboneshopper]

Trying not to be obvious about it, Agrim indicates the woman who just entered the inn. "It's her," he whispers/growls, meaning the lady from his vision. And he follows inside, attempting to take a nearby stool or chair where he can watch the door and attempt to listen in on her conversation.

[Stonjuz]

You enter the inn through the ten-foot-tall door to find a spacious barroom.
You fell dwarfed by the large proportions of the entire establishment: the ceilings here are twelve foot high.
The perimeter of the room is divided into small alcoves, each of which has its own table and benches. The bar forms a three-sided rectangle, beginning at the right wall and making two square corners until it eventually ends at the same wall from which it began. A doorway and a window to the kitchen are visible behind the bar.
Round and rectangular tables with stools and chairs fill the rest of the room. To the right of the bar, a wide wooden staircase leads upstairs. Two fireplaces and two round wood-burning stoves are strategically placed to provide heat to the entire room.

Gruenab, the owner that Fezuul mentioned, can be seen tending bar. Catching sight of the giant quickly makes sense of the proportions of the bar. The clientele is bolsterous, yet well-behaved as could be expected with such a bartender present. The delicious aromas of chicken, mutton, pork, stews, soups and breads fill the inn as the competent and quick staff work the near-capacity crowd. The three waitresses and two cleaning girls seem to enjoy their work.

Agrim stares across the room, watching the woman, when his thoughts are interrupted by,..."Hi, what can I get for you?"
[1d100] = 40 [1d20] = 11 [1d10] = 2 [1d8] = 4 [1d6] = 3 [1d4] = 3

[grey_starr]

*Once Benson has a drink in everyone's hand, he pushes the lame Bard that was strumming or whatever aside to tell of his victory!* Sorry, but you really do suck *tossing him a coin, and a look to not DARE and talk back*

Listen up! This is the story of my victory today! Forgive my pride...

There I was stretching out to test the armour, preparing for the last of my 5 fights... this last being the finals. Hefting the supplied longsword, with its dulled edge, to the sky to acknowledge the crowd I stepped to the center of the fenced circle*Raising my arms in a theatrical display*. My opponent, a Half-ogre named Grumeng Mansmasher, coming in the same style... sort of*making mocking monkey actions to represent Grumeng* almost 2 feet taller then I, and a scar across his already gruesome face that not only made it uglier, but also showed he had experience.

At the first sound of the trumpet, Grumeng was already swinging at me, and I only just got my shield in the path*going through the actions, raising my shield arm*. The hit was hard, and my shield was pushed aside *throwing my shield arm aside* leaving an exposed side. But I'm no armature - far from it. I spun with that strike rather than just standing open*spin*, and made my own strike *slashing action* but it was deftly intercepted by the curved blade of my opponent.

I chose that moment to strike with my best friend, my shield! *going through the motion*Putting all my great strength behind it, I was actually pushing my opponent back - his feet sliding. Grumeng tried planting his feet and punching back, just as I planned, and I pommel punched him in the ear... followed by the first point! A fast slash across his chest!*Victory arms up*

No sooner had I got my point though, he kicked out my feet… forcing me to roll aside. As I came up he caught me across my back. This tied us up. This humbled me, and I started to take him seriously. With calculated ferocity I turned it all on him, shield punch! Slash! Punch! Slash! Punch!*motioning the punch and slash, stepping forward with each* Almost there I sweep out his legs with my sword and put him into quick submission!*Victory stance, followed by muscle pose – flashing my not so pretty grin again*

The God Nazarn was not with my opponent this day! Perhaps I have recently impressed Mayaheine...

[Stonjuz]

[1d100] = 87 [1d20] = 8 [1d10] = 10 [1d8] = 6 [1d6] = 2 [1d4] = 1

The woman whom Agrim had been studying, soon realizes that Greystarr is today's champion fighter from the Arena. She may be a follower of St. Cuthbert, but she is human. She, and some of the other patrons, lend a steady ear, and smile to Benson's tale and she gathers closer with a friendly face.
(her story tonight)

[Rukellian]

Fezuul laughs to himself quietly as he watches Benson's performance. "This certainly is a lively bunch, and the experience shows through when it comes to combat as well!" Sitting down at one of the tables, Fezuul calls one of the lovely ladies over to order a bowl of soup, handing over the necessary coin in the process. "Ah why not? Today is bound to be a good day, I'll just splurge a bit with my meal while I'm here." He is kind and polite when placing his order, making sure to let the waitress know she is doing a fine job. While waiting for his soup, the doctor sits back and takes in the surrounding conversations, hoping to catch a bit or two on the local gossip. He also keeps an eye on the adventuring group, to see if anything interesting happens along the way.

[grey_starr]

[1d100] = 87 [1d20] = 8 [1d10] = 10 [1d8] = 6 [1d6] = 2 [1d4] = 1

Holy Carp! You actually rolled under my Charisma! it was a good recap!

*Feeling extremely proud of himself, Benson accepts the kind words and the quite unexpected applause that followed* I wish every trip a pub would go so well...*eventually getting to a seat and ordering meat and mead - for himself and whoever has the luck of being left and right of him. Keeping an eye on his charge - Branc... Benson doesn't notice that to his left is that weird "Doctor" - Fezuul - and comments to him* If that guy over there *points to Branc with the empty mug in his hand* goes on an "adventure", then that will be my cue to retire the watch and adventure as well.

[Stonjuz]

One of the dockworkers gives Benson a wink and says, "You seem to have caught the fancy of Talaseka."
Then he whispers, "Here she comes, that girl can talk your ear off if you let her."
"Hi, I'm Talaseka. Always a pleasure to meet new friends. I see you are also in the company of some folk new to our city. I would be happy guide the visitors around town, pointing out places of interest and giving my advice on some other fine places to eat and...." Those familiar with the woman mimic her with extreme detail as she goes thru a greeting that she has obviously said many times here in this establishment, and the crowd nearby has a chuckle at her expense.

The hairs on Agrim's neck stand with chilling effect as the woman is fulfilling a deja vu moment for our shaman. Her voice pattern is calming and friendly, yet Agrim can sense that the woman does have something bothering her. Her exchanges with Benson and the others are cordial but she does talk, almost endlessly, until she lets slip some curious statements, such as,"Greyhawk isnt the way it used to be" and "You just dont know who you can trust anymore" and later still she says, "This town used to have laws, right? But now,.... the laws dont seem to be enforced uniformally everywhere."

Several of the locals tire of the 'same old story' the paladin relays to the group and some take their drinks and bowls to adjacent tables. Talaseka is quick to fill a seat next to Benson and in a rare moment she pauses long enough for others to talk.

Fezuul's waitress also has some strange tale to relate. Over the course of a few professional errands about the room, she says quietly, "The city is home to a dragon that masquerades as a human, rumor has it. Isnt that interesting?"
[1d100] = 38 [1d20] = 13 [1d10] = 4 [1d8] = 3 [1d6] = 3 [1d4] = 4
It soon spreads into the topic of argument about the tavern, but the naysayers eventually win out and the topic fades, but not before, ... "I tells you! Look to the skies and tell me what you see.... clouds, sure sure, bugs, leaves. Yeah, normal stuff right? See any birds then? Haven't seen any for months, months! Somethin' is going on, it's too unnatural. Where did all the birds go!?" The drunk patron puts down his empty mug and falls out of his chair. Everyone laughs, but you cannot help but feel uneasy about the man's drunken statement.

[ragnboneshopper]

Agrim attempts to overcome his abashed reaction to the momentary deja vu, as well as his usual shyness around ladies, and asks Talaseka, "Th-this t-trouble with Greyhawk, where d-do y-you th-th-th- ... who is r-r-responsible?" He'll engage her in conversation about this topic, trying to ascertain what organizations, figureheads, and scoundrels of the city might be involved. Under the circumstances, he's open to a tour, but he'll keep silent about his own belief about connections to Vecna and the evil land of Iuz. He'll nudge his companions when he thinks she's not listening, muttering simply, "It's her, from my vision. Got to l-listen t-to her..."

[Stonjuz]

Long after the meal, the woman is STILL talking. Most of the crowd has dispersed and some of the staff have left.
As Agrim gets his point across to all of the party present, and finally, almost, musters a complete sentence to the woman,"Th-this t-trouble with Greyhawk, where d-do y-you th-th-th- ... who is r-r-responsible?", she begins again. This time in a hushed, almost distressed voice. "I've been getting this feeling for many months now. City officials seem indifferent to any problem. I can't tell them where I think the problem is, so they just tell me that they can't deal with a probem that isn't there." She gives a look to Benson, searching his eyes for any sign that he may have knowledge of this matter. Finding none, she continues, "But Ive seen some strange things . Strange folk moving into town."She stops talking as the owner comes out from the bar and leans in towards the group's table.

Gruenab finally interrupts with a friendly question. "Talaseka still talking? Haha. Is she bothering you all? Nice rooms available here. How many will be staying? One of my waitresses can show them to you. I feel like retiring early this night. Everything okay here, Tala?" As he leaves, Talaseka gives him a sincere smile and bids him goodnight, and then begins talking again, this time, apologetically, in a more relaxed manner.
"Im not trying to scare you folks. I just thought you should know so you can watch your back. I have heard some adventurers and even some guards have been ambushed, but cannot prove it. But I am raining on your good time, and for that I apologize. I've said too much. .....Tell you what....Let me show you around the city tomorrow. It really is a great place. I promise I'll be more fun and this city has treasures you won't find anywhere else. What do you say? I'll meet you here right after breakfast?"

[Rukellian]

After listening intently to Talaseka, Fezuul says in an almost half-apologetic tone, "excuse me for intruding in your conversation, but that tour of the city sounds like a fine idea. Personally, I would love to get acquainted with the areas that my cliental live and go to regularly. My studies and sessions have only been in an isolated part of Greyhawk, where my family's previous clinic used to be. Though I may be doctor by practice, the inner adventurer within me wishes to see more of this world, bit by bit, and what better way to start then within the wall of my home city!"

Fezuul's enthusiasm seems to be on par with Talaseka, but for some reason, it does not fit him. Regardless, after hearing what they have to say on this, the doctor will retire to his own Healthy Hands Clinic and take last minute notes on his shop's supplies and such before going to sleep.

Maybe stock up on a few items as well too, if the DM allows it. I could set up a list of things that would be found in such a shop and tie it to a chart for a dice roll. Just something to think about.

[Stonjuz]

More interaction with the woman is possible but I'll need to know a couple of things....
Branc and Agrim can have rooms upstairs, Fezuul has his room just down the street (i cant think of any reason for him to cough up dough for a room here), Benson has a bunk in the barracks, halfway across town to the south,
and no one has seen the druid since leaving (parking) him at the StoneRing, outside the city, at the eastern gate.
The rented room upstairs has 2, 4 or 6 beds.
Are the mage and shaman rooming together? Is Benson staying for the night?
The tavern stops serving drinks sometime around midnight and closes soon thereafter.

[NJWilliam]

Branc

Branc has no objection to sharing the room with Agrim and Benson, especially since he expects their conversation over events since arriving in Greyhawk may extend into the small hours.

[ragnboneshopper]

Agrim bows from the shoulders and spreads his hands in a gesture of acceptance at Talaseka's offer. "I will go with y-you t-t-to- ... when th-the sun has r-risen and see th-this great city more fully..." He then retires for the night at the innkeep's prompting, preferring to share the expense with his friends if they are willing.


OOC: So I don't know about the rest of you, but seems to me if we follow this lady around for a bit we're pretty likely to get mixed up in something interesting...

[Rukellian]

OOC: I think that's the plan hehe.

[Stonjuz]

[1d100] = 51 [1d20] = 7 [1d10] = 4 [1d8] = 2 [1d6] = 1 [1d4] = 3
The staff knows that Greystarr should have quit drinking an hour ago. What they didnt know was how well he can hold his p's and q's (pints and quarts).
Benson stands quickly at the inn's door as it is shut for the last time this night, Branc enters (with kitten?) The guard gathers himself as if completely ready for action but even he knows that he must get at least some sleep. How else could he explain letting the mage out of his sight, again.
The two enter the large boarding room. Agrim sits nervously in his bunk, near a large window, awoken from another bad dream. Something in the crowd tonight haunts the shaman's thoughts. Dreams of dark blue robes. Their wearers, surrounding a giant glass globe, chanting as if to break the sphere.
As the two 'friends' arrive, Agrim remembers seeing that same blue robe among one of the patrons this night. The wanderer is sure he could recognize him again if he is seen and Agrim begins to yearn for the morning, just as Benson yearns for some shuteye. The halforc looks out the window. Down the street, a candle goes out as the Doctor retires for the night.

[ragnboneshopper]

Agrim: z-z-z... "blue r-r-robes..." z-z-z... "br-reaking th-the gl-gl-gl ... world?"... z-z-z...



Agrim will rise early and pray to the spirits, to Beory, and to Obad-Hai. He'll then ask the kitchen staff, "Have bones can give? Prefer chicken bones," with a happy grin from choosing words he doesn't typically stutter over. "Th-th-thanks," he'll mutter, and then the grin will fade. His inability to speak clearly already revealed, he'll ask around for anyone who knows about "the man in the bl-blue r-r-robes" from last night.

He'll take the morning air in the back alley and consult the omens before this day's trek through the city. He'll of course give warning to his companions to look out for creepy magician-types in blue robes, hoping that Branc or Benson or Fezuul might know something about them. If they ask why he wants to know, he'll just shake his head. "Dr-dr-dreams..."

Agrim, Omen-reading check (rating=10): [1d20-2] = 16-2 = 14

Gotta level-up Ag to fighter 3... Go Chiefs!

[grey_starr]

*Benson starts awake with activity in the room... prepares and then follows the wiz. While in the kitchen loads up on breakfast to go, and follows* Blue dressed wiz in a city where there is a Guild of Wizardry - it seems likely there may be more then one. If you mean literally blue - the Guild will know him.

[Stonjuz]

Doctor Lokvin is not present yet.
After any morning rituals, most of the party gathers for an early breakfast. Gruenab again presents a hearty meal that satisfies the belly and all await the woman, ready to learn of the city, and possibly some of it's secrets.
Down the street, Fezuul, himself prepped for what he wishes to be a day like no other, closes the door. He looks to the Fish, ready to join the others, when he hears the commotion coming from the south. Four large drafthorses draw the Constable's Wagon and at least four guardsmen, and they are headed this way. Fast.
The doctor can have an action before the wagon gets here, and before the party can hear the horses and suspect that anything is wrong.

[Rukellian]

The doctor makes a split-moment decision and decides to warn everyone in the Whistling Fish, seeing as how the approaching group is going in this direction, fast. Running to the entrance and opening the doors wildly, he scans the room and finds that the group has already gathered. A look of half-desperation runs across his face as Fezuul quickly shouts to the group that we may be having some unwanted company VERY SOON. "Brace yourselves everyone, I don't know who is coming our way, but they are coming fast, with a set of guardsmen too!" He darts his head back outside and then nods coming inside saying that they are coming from the south. Having calmed down a little bit for a second, he then asks the group warily, "did any of you make any enemies as of late?" The doctor does not expect an answer as he turns around keeps an eye on the doorway.

DM edit: Gruenab freezes as he looks up from the milkbowl that he had gingerly sat down for the kitten.
Now the group can have an action as they hear the horses coming to a stop directly outside.