Helix: The Brazen Strumpet

[Stirling]

Vann Hector

Runs his chin as he listens, considering a reply to their information. He has only just arrived in town and much more of interest could be found close by, but he thinks about the positive options of helping organise a search party.

He muses the poachers are probably dead if nothing has been seen or heard from them in a month. Traipsing the moor might be a futile task. On the other hand if this poacher was a ranger of note, he might have met other rangers or apprenticed junior trackers. Befriending one of those might be good insurance should he have cause to call upon their skills in some future expedition.

He looks at the big guy next to him who has shown interest also in the conversation. Orgoth

"Friend what do you think? It sounds a forlorn hope but we should keep faith." he says to him before asking the millers. "I have little experience in these regions but loss of family I can identify with. Who else would have clues to these poachers habits? Where they normally go hunting and choices they make? If there was a reward offered, as mercenary as it sounds, I could consider if the risk is worth taking. My purse will soon empty to fill my stomach."

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin offers Alastar one of the Roasties. He gives a bit of a chuckle at the reference to their heights "Yeah I'm used to it. We come in all shapes and sizes Alastar." the dwarf wonders what this man has gone through and seen to end up in his current state. "What happened to you Alastar? I heard someone say you used to be a knight?" he asks hoping to get something verbally from the beggar.

[Darithe]

Sigrid stepped barefoot into the...what was it called...The Brazen Strumpet she repeated the words in her mind unsure what exactly they meant. She was still new to speaking this southland tongue and these words were unknown to her. Perhaps it was the name of the owner...she pondered it a moment as she glanced first at those in the room and then at the menu. She paid particular attention to the northmen to make sure they weren't a clan her people were enemies of. Luckily, she didn't recognize them or their markings. She stepped up to the crowded bar squeezing between two patrons and waved for the bartender. In a thick northern accent she said, "Mr. Strumpet, I will have a mug of honeyed mead and yesterday's stew please." She smiled warmly and placed the coins required on the bar.

[gurusql]

Cadeweed
A short halfling with a full head of chestnut brown hair and sideburns walks in. He does not yet reach three feet in height. He walks up to the pale Elvish woman with a long black braid and says "Don't be shy, Cadeweed Dale is the name - come lets get a seat and order something to eat. You can tell me about your travels here." He motions to one of the empty tables and climbs into a seat. While standing on the seat, he finds the nearest person that looks like they would take his order and says, "Can I please have you stew of yesterday and a pint of ale", handing them 2 sp.

[Monsieur Rose]

Sir Dewey

You hear the arrival of an armored man by the rain beating on his helm before he appears. "Did I hear you, gentlemen, correctly? Is there another knight present?" Sir Dewey enters the veranda and finally gets out of the rain. A large man, his face completely covered by his helm appears before you. He turns and scans each of you before turning his attention to the beggar.

"Ah. You must be the knight. Well met, Sir. I am Sir Dewey, recently of Ironguard Motte." He nods his head and crosses his arm across his chest.

He pauses, then addresses the others present. "Is your companion well?"

[Rex]

Orgoth

"I am not sure, being new around here too." He turns to the locals talking. "Can you share anything more, we may be interested in helping out."

[Spearmint]

The Brazen Strumpet Tavern

The three waitresses, Taycee, Urgritte, Merda, serve with enchanting smiles, swaying hips and low cut corsets 'overflowing with charm'.

The first looks aptly named for the tavern, buxom and red haired, tactile and flirtatious. Many an adventurer seems to have gone out to explore 'on a promise' of a fantastic date night should they ever come back laden with the jewelry that might win her favour.

Tall, blonde hair braided in long tails, piercing eyes and high cheekbones, athletic but feminine. Urgritte heralds from the icy north. She has a strong accent and can swear as good as any trooper.

The last of the trio, Merda, is more svelte. Dark hair with slightly pointed ears which betray a dual heritage. She takes time to chat with the adventuring groups, much to the chargrin of other tables as she often lingers to listen to the stories.

Each bring full tankards, plates and bowls and return to collect empties. Busier now with the outside rain driving people from the market square. Bollo serves those lingering at the bar.

On the verandah, the trio of do-gooders minister to the village idiot Alastar. He scoffs and quaffs, in between gesturing with his hands, growling as he forms a claw, swishing an imaginary rapier in lunge, party and ripostes. Suddenly another person appears. Dressed in armour and martial in stature. Alastar points at the helmed figure of Sir Dewey, who asks about the rumour of the man's knighthood. The beggar points to your helmet and gestures you remove it and give it to him to inspect.

Inside the millers answer to Vann Hector and Orgoth. "Best advice we can give is to chat with Vina or Hendon at the mill."

Mai Ronin considers the advice in regard to a lecherous adventure hitting on her while the the striking Sigrid has hardly arrived before some young boy grabs hold of her skirt to invite her to his table. The halfling Cadeweed has a very direct chat-up style.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin after trying to figure out Alastar and his visual manner of communication the dwarf leaves the poor fellow to his own devices and with the food and drink he purchased for him, ne makes his way back over to the bar this time taking a seat, and enjoying his own food and drink. Listening to the conversations going on at the bar.

[Stirling]

Vann Hector

"Well the least I can do is ask. 'Ask and you shall receive, seek and you will find' and all that."

He turns to mull over the suggestion and finishes his ale, viewing in the mirror behind the bar the activities going on in the tavern hall.

The rowdy group look too intimidating to pester but he notes the morose pair staring with glassy eyes into the void of empty glasses. He turns to the half-orc adventurer next to him. "Listen having a solid companion in this place to watch your back is worth more than gold I suspect. Now I don't know you and I probably trust you about as far as I can throw you, which isn't going to be very far at all. But I've never let a friend down or a companion behind. My name is Vann Hector. I'm good with a blade when I need to be and wise enough not to need one that often. I can see opportunities too. Those pair at their wits end look like they need relieving of their burdens if you get my meaning."

I will wait a minute while Orgoth responds before wandering over and joining their table. "Excuse me. I couldn't help but note your less than cheery ambiance. You seem troubled by many things. But a problem shared is a problem halved. Perhaps you can tell me what ails you?"

[Rex]

Orgoth

Being a bit dim witted he Looks at Vann with a perplexed look and says quietly "I don't mind watching your back but I ain't no thief."

[Urson]

Mai Ronin
There is a great difference between being shy and being quiet.
I am called Mai Ronin. Well met, Cadeweed.
I would trade tales of travel with you.
She sips her cider. I am a wanderer,
seeking honor and adventure. I grew up far from here, in an archipelago known as the Dragon Empire.

[Bluetongue]

Golgarth

Sits cross legged in the verandah, scorning the derision of onlookers as he sups and eats though in a more civilized manner to the beggar Alastar. He tries to nod along to the man's gestures figuring he is mentally replaying again some combat against creatures unknown.

Patiently sitting, he checks the guy over visually. Trying to identify the tattoo mentioned and spot any ring he might still wear or if any sigil or insignia remains on the tattered clothes that might indicate some noble house.

[Nordbo]

Cosmo

too, is curious about the beggar's tattoos. Are they.....flowery and decorative ? Or....evil and edgy ?

[GreyWolfVT]

Orgoth

Being a bit dim witted he Looks at Vann with a perplexed look and says quietly "I don't mind watching your back but I ain't no thief."

Dalin chuckles to himself at this comment then returns to his food and drink.

[Spearmint]

The Brazen Strumpet Tavern

Excuse me. I couldn't help but note your less than cheery ambiance. You seem troubled by many things. But a problem shared is a problem halved. Perhaps you can tell me what ails you?"

"I can't believe it. He's gone. We lost him . He was there one minute right beside me. Then they broke through the walls. The claws, such savagery. It was too much. I tried to save him didn't I,Dun? I really did, but it was not enough. Now he's gone."

The man lifts his head up briefly, teary eyed from grief and praying his rosary. He just looks at you blankly, Vann Hector and Orgoth if you sat also. His companion puts down the empty glass and speaks.

"It was Greygoose's idea to venture here. We all invested, dreaming of shared treasure buried in the old crypts. One, two, three we searched in vain before we found one which looked promising. Unmolested and quiet as the grave. We took the sarcophagus cover off and looted pretty trinkets and bracelets of old. But the alcoves were alive with hidden spawn that beset us sorely. We fled with our lives but his wounds were deep and poisonous. Argo carried him back in hope to save him but he bleed out.

He lies in the church morgue across from here. We will say our goodbyes in the morning."

The second man, Dunkirk, tells a discouraging story of woe and misfortune.

[Stirling]

Vann Hector

"I'm sorry for your loss. It is a tragedy indeed. Let me at least offer a drink in his memory. Four ales please." he waves a waitress and points to the table.-4sp

"What you have said speaks of bravery and fortitude. Togetherness and solidarity. That you risked your life to save your friend is commendable. So take heart that you survive to honour Greygoose's memory.'"
He tries to encourage the pair, getting them to drink more and hopefully lull them into revealing a few more secrets about where they went and what they found.

"Where was this place? How long did it take you to get there? What was inside the sarcophagus? What did the trinkets look like? May I have a look?"

do I need some charisma check to try and win their confidence? Hoping the beer and fawning helps?

Vann Hector charisma check vs 9 [3d6]=8

[Darithe]

Sigrid awaits her food before noting the tugging on her dress. Turning, she smiles at the boy and nods. Making friends already she thinks, wouldn't Higva be proud? Once her food and drink arrives she takes a seat at the table with the boy. "I am Sigrid and I have only just arrived in town," she says once she takes a seat, offering her hand. "Are there any rules I should be aware of here in town? I don't want to get in any trouble, at least not on my first day here," she winks.

[OGRE MAGE]

Sven Jolly

A teenage human with orange hair and dirty robes walks past the men outside with a concerned look on his scarred face. He decides not to stop.

Entering the tavern with no real purpose in mind, the first thing that catches his eye is the group of men with the very long pole. Perplexed, Sven walks over to them.

“So, the average dungeon hallway is around five feet wide, right?” You can see the boy thinking hard and writing figures in the air with a skinny finger.

“So, if there is a 90 degree offset in the hallway, do you need to position that pole in an angular fashion every time you navigate a turn? What do you do if the hall turns back on itself 180 degrees?”

It becomes evident rather quickly that this lad has never been in a dungeon before.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin notices the kid looking at the wooden pole he carries around "Surprised nobody else mentioned it but this is my trap checker." he says ignoring the mathematical question about dungeons. "Comes in handy for pressure plat triggered traps rather than having someone fall into a pit or get hit with darts, bolts or arrows."

[Spearmint]

One group of shifty looking characters, complete with a ten foot pole and several unlit torches sit on some benches by the wall.

The Brazen Strumpet Tavern

Sven Jolly enters and his attention is captured by the size of the men's bargepole.
The group of men, not much older than yourself, are dressed in patchwork leather garb, studded with large rivetted plates and wear ill fitting belts holding longswords. A stylised foppish curly black mullet, slicked back at the sides seems to be the vogue for them. It contrasts to your own carrot mullet. Though they make some noise and are over theatrical with banging flagons on the table and using blades to play mock violins to the duo of grieving adventurers conversing with Vann and Orgoth, they don't radiate the same machismo and valour that the horn-helmed Northmen on the other side possess. If LARP'ing was a thing, these would be it.

On the table before them are the remains of several roasted chicken, broken into pieces and eaten without cutlery. Half emptied glasses litter the table. "A scholar among us. Come be seated. Share our feast." One guy pats your shoulder and ushers you to take a bench. The guys mutter then seem to come agreement, thrusting a glass and plate of chicken in your direction. "Poles. Sure need them to tippy-tap the floor. Set off those pitfalls and snares. Nasty things like serrated jaw-clamps and poison dart pipes. And any milf maids that you wouldn't dare touch with a bargepole, well we can."
Says one, introducing himself with a greasy handshake as Eddy.

"Yeah. Any hole's a goal and any tombs gold." the others say in unison as if it were a motto.

"We're heading off to the barrow mounds. Rumours are the mounds are as ripe for plucking as the farmer's daughter. Gold we might get but fame is an awkward beast. To tickle the Duke's ear we need some reputation and notoriety. Perhaps someone who has more artistry with a quill than a sword could publicise our exploits and blow our trumpets."