Briarbeard Tavern - IV

[Keehnelf]

Welcome to the best (and only!) tavern in Vaul!

[Marullus]

Apr. 29, 1 VC, evening

"I have no doubt that a creature of lies would find truth to be mutable,"answers Harold. "The darkness transforms many things. Curtains become ghosts, chairs look like monsters, and bright colors turn gray. A creature that lives in the darkness—nay, thrives on it, needs it to survive—would think that such is the way of the world: nothing it what it seems, all things are multiple things. Even the truth. But in the light, we see the things in the darkness for what they were. These things did not change in the night. The curtains were always curtains, the chair was always a chair, the colors were always their colors.

"The truth is the truth, demon. But only those who accept the Light will see it."

"I agree. You see a monster in me where there is none,"says the visitor-in-Bromric, reclining in his chair as Harold continues to preach against him. "The light shines brightly - I have not lied nor harmed anyone. I was summoned and bound against my will, in a state of eternal torment, tortured by those who claim to be good. You say your book decrees you should murder your friend and ally, Bromric, just to temporarily hinder me. To think, you threaten murder so casually here in the middle of a tavern!" He pauses, looking incredulously at Harold. "You hate me simply for being from another place, treat me with contempt when all I seek and all I have asked is to return to my own home." He waves a hand across his table. "Here I sit, trying to enjoy dinner and a pint of ale... quite a treat for someone who spent the last few millennia without a mouth, and you preach against my evil ways." He waggles his hands for effect at his last words. He then simply heaves a very heavy sigh, pushing his plate away, a half-finished chicken upon it.

He rises, looks around at the tavern, particularly at the tavern keeper. He hands the proprietor another gold piece. "Unhospitable. Ruins the appetite. I think I'll go for a walk and enjoy the evening stars. He nods to Odium and Martin, then begins to the door. "We can perhaps enjoy your wine upstairs, without such hate and vitriol to poison it."

[Zhym]

"I see quite clearly," says Harold. "I see the body of Bromric controlled like a puppet against his will, yet the puppeteer claims to be the one bound against his will. I see the puppeteer partake of the pleasures of the flesh while claiming to be tormented. You lie well, but to the wrong person."

Harold downs the rest of his wine. When the demon in Bromric leaves the tavern, Harold follows as far as the Inn then goes to the temple.

[Zhym]

Melvin shakes his head with mock sadness. "I quite agree," he says. "I thought I was going to a tavern, but I seem to have found myself in church. Let us retire to a more private and secular location."

When the Visitor leaves, Melvin follows.

[Starbeard]

Odium heaves an aged sigh and rises to follow Melvin and the Visitor, hobbling along as he busies himself with wiggling a loose tooth.

[Zhym]

May 3, 1 VC

Ulf sits drinking and staring at his drink, considering what to do with the stolen emerald. "The trouble with most ideas I can think of," he says to Orrin, "is that they leave an emerald sitting out for someone else to steal."

He quaffs his drink and orders another (-2c). "I'm thinking about building a Dwarvenheim in Vaul—sort of a combination dwarf heritage center and guild where we could meet and do what we could to keep old traditions alive. We could put a memorial to the Firedeep Clan there, or perhaps on its outer walls for all to see."

"I briefly entertained the notion of making the emerald part of that memorial, but I think that would serve our vanity, not their memory. The more I think about it, the more I realize there's only one thing to do with this rock: return it to its rightful place. When the coming battle has ended, I plan to travel back to the Low Tomb and return the gem. Perhaps the spirit of Agathon Firedeep will allow me access long enough to replace the gem."

Uld turns to his fellow dwarf. "Would you join me on that journey? I would gather whoever else I can. I'm afraid it won't be profitable unless we do it on the way to some other destination, however."

[Zorroroaster]

Orrin sighs deeply, and looks at Ulf with a newfound respect and admiration.

"I am very much in favour of both ideas, Ulf. I'll be happy to aid in whatever manner I can. To that end, how's your stonework? Methinks it wouldn't be a proper Dwarven structure if we didn't put put our backs into it and build it ourselves."

"I will accompany you on the trip to return the emerald, and gladly. It'll take my mind off other things. Are there other places we could visit on the same trip that interest you?"

[Zhym]

May 3, 1 VC

"My stonework won't win me any awards," says Ulf, "but it's good enough for city building. By ourselves, I think it would take about three weeks to build, but if we can find a couple of laborers to hire for help, perhaps we could build the hall in a little under two weeks. I'll see about getting materials and labor. I will be busy for the next week or so preparing archers for the coming battle, but it will probably take some time to have the stone delivered anyway."

"I know you're short of funds, but would you be able to contribute anything to the building cost? We should see if anyone else wants to donate. The more money we have, the nicer the hall would be."

"I'm not very familiar with the lands to the east, and those I do know have been fairly well explored. Perhaps someone we bring with us would have some ideas of other places to go on that trip?"

[Zorroroaster]

May 3 1 VC

Orrin lifts his coin pouch, weighing it in his thick, scarred hand. He thinks a moment.

"I'm no artisan myself, but I agree we could get the job done in pretty short order if we had some help. I don't have much to spare, but what I have is yours. I've got to replace this no-account spear I'm carrying, and pay for my room here. Apart from that, I can probably spare most of what's left. Certainly at least a hundred gold, if not more. I aim to help with the city as well. As a matter of fact, I'm on my way over there now. Let's talk more about this soon. Maybe wander around and find a good spot for laying a foundation."

Orrin stands and takes his leave.

[Starbeard]

29 April, evening

Odium Contemptus hobbles back into the tavern after having disappeared outside for some time. He approaches Ghrym Briarbeard.

'I will be spending some time at the tower beyond town, and their food is distasteful. I require a whole bird for cooking while I am there—doesn't matter which kind—and I imagine you have some in your kitchen. How much for one? I do not mind whether it is plucked, but it I want it whole, nothing cut from it.'

[Rusty Tincanne]

While not empty, the tavern was quiet, offering solace from the constant bustle of the town's streets. Garen approached the bar and ordered an ale and striking up a brief conversation with the bartender to find out why the citizens of the town seemed so ill-at-ease. He was disturbed to learn of the impending invasion. ...Just arrived in town today. Bad timing is what this is. I had heard there might be forest-land for sale here. But maybe your Arch-duchy would offer land as payment for my services in this battle... Who do you figure I'd talk to about that? Almost as an afterthought, Garen ordered whatever stew was on the menu and some bread before heading to a table, two dogs settling in at his feet.

What does a meal cost here? Hopefully not too much. I am on a tight budget until I can find some treasure!

[Keehnelf]

Ghrym points odium out the door toward the general store for the purchase of foodstuffs for use elsewhere. "All we've got is cooked food on plates and in bowls, buddy."

In response to the newcomer's question, Ghrym only sadly shakes his head. "Seems like trouble's not far away: a horde of monster bent on destroying or enslaving, not quite sure which. Both are pretty bad, if you ask me. They're looking for volunteers, and the duke's offering reward for services rendered so we could see some land or whatever given out. Check in at the Wooden Keep if you're looking for some work. You could probably get a tent to sleep and some hot meals as well if you jump in now." He slides a mug across the bar. "Here's an ale, on the house--let's call it a welcome gift and encouragement not to just turn around and walk back the way you've come."

[Starbeard]

'Harumph,' says Odium as he skulks out the door.

[Keehnelf]

A chicken dressed for cooking is 1s, by the way.

[Rusty Tincanne]

Garen nods his head in thanks for the information and food. When he is finished he lingers in the dim quiet for a few moments before heading aback in to the busier streets.

[Rusty Tincanne]

Garen found Odium in the dim, tavern light. He looked about as impressive as the chair he was siting on, but Garen knew looks could be deceiving. Understand me clearly, old man. I'm not agreeing to jump ship, as it were. I just signed up to help in this fight and Tamerlin is promising me some land.

But a it'll be difficult to enjoy that land if I'm dead, I figure, so I might be persuaded to resign. So I will hear you out, and if it sounds like our interests are lined up, I might be willing to go along with you. What do you have in mind?

[Starbeard]

Odium looks Garen up and down, wiping his dripping nose on a sleeve. He grunts half-heartedly. 'Hmph. Well, I suppose a half-ounce of sense is better than nothing, and nothing is all anyone's got around here, it seems.'

After each sip of wine he wipes his lips with his tongue, showing his stained and cracked teeth. 'Land, eh? That's a good proposition; land provides freedom, and freedom provides strength. But you're right, all the land in the world won't help if you're dead.'

His hands grip and massage the gnarled handle of his walking stick. 'As of yet my plans are open, to see who is interested, and what rumours they carry with them. In short, the plan is to set out on a small but fruitful expedition, close to the eve of the arrival of the hobgoblin host. They say it is better to be behind an army than in front of it, and with a host like that sweeping through the countryside, they will surely scare off or kill most of the opposition we would have to face ourselves.'

Odium leans in and reduces the volume of his hoarse voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

'For example, I have heard talk that the expedition to the old tomb to the east—the one that possessed the dwarf Bromric—was abandoned before they could explore the entirety of the place, despite evidence that whatever they feared to encounter had already left. Now, the hobgoblins are said to be coming from that direction, or perhaps from the northeast; if we stay to the south and watch for them to pass, we could explore the area in peace, as they would likely kill or scare off any foes we would otherwise have to negotiate ourselves.

'Or, if that does not suit your sensibilities, there are expanses of untouched forest to explore in the northwest, well away from any encroaching armies, but sure to bear the fruit for an enterprising woodsman.'

Returning to his upright posture, Odium resumes his normal speaking voice. 'Perhaps we could offer ourselves as a scouting party into one of these directions, to gather information or supplies for these war machines they seem intent on constructing: while we are there we can use the opportunity to scout for ourselves, and gauge the plausibility of pillaging the countryside while everyone's backs are turned to other business.'

[Rusty Tincanne]

Garen listens carefully to the foul-looking man across from him. He remains silent for a few moments, thinking on what has been said. Well I got no real stake in this war aside from this hobgoblin army likely destroying the land I aim to have. But I suppose that will happen whether I stay here or not at this point. Still, I would like to help where I can. Maybe heading out eastwards could help preserve this place. Maybe it wont. Hard saying. I'll think on it. Garen rose from his chair and headed out.

[AleBelly]

A chicken dressed for cooking is 1s, by the way.

Whooooo's hungry?

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[Rusty Tincanne]

Garen returns to the tavern the following day, looking well scrubbed and smelling of pine. He sits down with Odium again. I thought on what we talked about and I figure I'm not your man. This land is out of balance and I aim to help restore it. I got about a week to get those boys ready, and if they all die, it hangs on my head. Gared rises and offers a handshake, Don't let the wilderness doesn't swallow you up.