The Traveler's Tale - IC

[Jurai]

"Interestin' architecture, 'ere in Greyhawk." Zircon says.

[Illven]

Annanil looks at the city in wonder.

I've been here a week, and this city still astounds me. She states.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Indeed. It is as they say. This city is a melting pot of different cultures and races. Truly the Gem of the Flanaess," Remi agreed, nodding his head with his right hand stroking his goatee.

"Ah!" he exclaimed as the signboard with the rather large fish and musical notes caught his eye. "I assume we have arrived at our destination?" he asked, looking at Randor's direction.

[Torgarn]

Indubitably we have, my friend. Randor says with a hearty laugh. Let's head inside, I could use an ale.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Oh! Just in time! That walk has made me thirsty. Nothing a good mug of ale can't fix!" Remi grinned, then marched forward, and when he realized the others weren't following, stopped and turned around.

"Well, don't just stand there! Come on, gents! And lady. We can do the architectural appreciation as much as we want later. Ale waits for no man!" he laughed.

"Oh, right. We should probably sign up for the caravan first. What we came here for, after all. Wouldn't want to have, as good Sir Randor put it, upstarts taking our jobs, now, would we?" he said before turning back towards the direction of the inn entrance and continued his march.

"Excuse me, sire (or madame). We are here for this," he reached inside his pocket for the parchment and unraveled it for the inn attendant to read.

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles. "Fer ale, ye cannae beat tha great flavor of Ironhold Stout." He says. "Barmaid, I would like some Ironhold Stout, please an' thank ye!"

[Mordae]

The inn attendant is a waifish girl of about fourteen, who hops down off an oversized barstool and scurries over to the doorway, her twin dishwater-blonde braids trailing behind her freckle-dotted face. Her smile could light up the room even on a cloudy day, and she bobs a quick curtsey with a practiced spread of the hem on her blue plaid dress. "Good morrow to you, sirs and madame; if it is Master Maff you seek, you'll find him in that booth yonder." She extends one arm to point to the north side of the taproom, where a stout, bearded man sits alone, marking books by candlelight. The giantish proportions of the room make him almost look like a dwarf, except that his close-cropped auburn hair and beard are decidedly un-dwarfish.

"I'll have to see whether we have a cask of the Ironhold already open, sir," she answers Zircon's hearty plea with an earnest nod. "If we have to crack it, I must warn you of the three gold piece tapping fee. Unless you'd like to purchase the whole cask, in which case I'll find Master Gruenab so you two can settle on the price."

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles, and tosses her a small bag of gold. "An' keep tha change, lass! Good ale is worth every gold."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Remi patted the dwarf's back. "I'm learning to like you more by the second! Ha ha ha!"

"Right, so there's our man. Let us go and get this done with. Don't want to have the ale waiting!" he smiled as he waltzed through the taproom and over to the man who was called Master Maff.

"A good day to you, sir! My colleagues and I would like to discuss about this," he placed the ad on the table for the man to read, "...ad you posted. We are interested for the position of your caravan guards. You are hiring, yes?"

[Illven]

Annanil chuckled too as the bag of gold flew to the girl.

Then as they talked to the man.

I'm a skilled bow user if it matters. Annanil replied.

[Jurai]

"An' I'm Zircon Ironhold, Dwarven Warmaster." Zircon introduces himself.

[Torgarn]

Randor approaches with the others. He sweeps his cap off, doing a short, but elaborate bow to their future employer. Last, but almost certainly not least, my name is Randor. I kill things in interesting ways. he says grinning.

[Mordae]

Master Maff pauses mid-scrawl and peers up from over the table, which, on account of the building's scale, reaches up almost to his armpits. "Yes, indeed I am," he rumbles in a gravelly but pleasant voice. "Though you are the first to apply. I had set those notices for posting a good three days ago. Blasted guilds--give them the power of negotiation and their quality runs right through the floor. Given your various introductions, I think I can safely assume that you each can provide your own equipment. In addition to food and transportation for this five-day journey, you'll be paid ten gold pieces per day--each--and double it if you prevent any losses, should we encounter trouble on the trip." He furrows his bushy red-brown eyebrows together. "You'll be required to submit to a brief magical exam prior to reporting on board. If that's a problem with any of you, you're welcome to find employment elsewhere, but you'll not find caravan pay more generous than Grand Master Galt provides."

Meanwhile, the surprised barmaid has hurried to the cellar and now emerges slowly, rolling a small keg up the railed ladder until it lands with a thud on the worn wood floor. Zircon immediately recognizes the Ironhold crest emblazoned on the side of the iron-banded barrel as the girl maneuvers her way toward the bar, rolling the vessel of dwarven brew ahead of her.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Ten gold pieces a day and food. Not bad, not bad at all. I'll take it!" Remi beamed and extended his right hand to shake Master Maff's.

"Do we need to sign anything? Oh, but before I do, a few queries if I may. If it's not something to be kept a secret, may I know as to the destination of this caravan? Also, would you be opposed to the idea of me peddling some of my own goods during the trip? I happen to be a businessman as well, a parfumeur if you must ask. A no-name perfumer, just starting out, but I am planning to make it big someday! Who doesn't, yes?" he turned to his companions, as if expecting them to automatically nod. "I have samples here if you want to try them out. They're of good quality, and quite revolutionary in terms of the scents I am able to produce, that much I can be proud of!"

"And lastly," he paused, unsure whether to ask the question or not, but he continued, "...exactly what sort of magical examination is required?" he finally finishes with an awkward smile.

[Illven]

Annanil nods at Remi's last comment.

Yeah, that part's got me curious also. She states.

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles when he sees the crest. "Good on ye, lass! That's much better than that Stonebeard moose urine." He says. "I like tha terms meself, and would gladly submit ta any magical examination, me bein' a rightfully nonmagical dwarf aft'r all."

[Torgarn]

Randor just smiles still, I've no problem with submitting to your tests, as long as the tester doesn't get too touchy feely.

[Mordae]

"Oh, nothing dangerous," Maff growls out in assurance. "We just need to know that you're telling the truth and not some bandits trying to infiltrate through lies or enchantments. Won't take more than a couple of minutes." He takes his book and blows on the freshly inked page to make sure it's fully dry, then flips back a couple of pages. "If you're in, sign on this page and report to the Silver Dawn at sun-up on the 15th."

Turning to Remi, he addresses the perfumer's queries. "From Hardby, we'll be continuing on by boat across to Safeton on the Wild Coast, and then overland through the Lortmil Mountains to Ulek. As for your personal wares, so long as you're not competing with our cargo, I've no reason to object. If Grand Master Galt takes on a load of perfumes, though, we'll probably have to come to some contractual terms so we don't end up paying you for us to take a loss."

[Jurai]

Zircon nods. "Lortmil Mountains? 'Ats Stonebeard territory. If'n we bump inta any dwarves, be very careful. Stonebeards're surly and disrespectful."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Yes, yes, understandable, sir. I see no problems at all regarding your requirements. Very well then! If I may," he motioned to borrow the man's quill, then proceeded to sign where the caravan master pointed as neatly as he could. He then stepped away from the table to let the others sign.

"Go on, go on. Sign up! This is one promising trip! We get to see the ocean, then the mountains. How lovely! Quite frankly I've never been to the seas, so this is indeed exciting!" Remi said to his comrades like a child a day before his first hunting trip. Then, eyeing the barmaid and the keg in tow, he darted off towards her.

"Hurry up, you lot. There might not be a drop of this fine Ironhold Stout left if you take your time any longer!" he grinned. Turning to the barmaid, he asked, "Can we take that one?" pointing at one of the vacant booths.

[Jurai]

Zircon signs and sits in the booth. "Aye, lass, bring ye tha ale o'er here, and 'ave a mug yerself! I's nae e'ryday tha' ye tap an Ironhold Stout!"

[Illven]

Annanil nods and proceeds to sign the contract. She then walks off to the booth and waits for a cup.

Wonder how this will taste. She muses.

[Mordae]

The arrival of the new keg causes quite a stir in the taproom, and by the time the contract is signed there's a crowd of patrons buzzing around the bar for a taste. The slip of a barmaid has her hands full until the noise draws the attention of the Whistling Fish's master--the hulking half-giant Gruenab. A bit of a hush falls over the room as the big proprietor stomps in from the back yard, an armful of four-foot logs stacked like kindling and tucked in one elbow. "Ho now, what's this?" he bellows. "You all be leaving Miss Lexie alone, and you'll get your ale one at a time." After stomping over to the fireplace to deposit the wood, he returns to the bar and lifts the cask with three fingers, depositing it on the bar with ease. A pat of his palm is sufficient to knock the tap into place, and he holds a giant-sized mug underneath with practiced care to ensure not a single drop is wasted.

While Lexie tends to the crowd, Gruenab looks over everyone's heads until his gaze settles on Zircon. "You there, good master dwarf--you have uncommonly good taste! Are you part of Master Maff's caravan train, and if so have you brought me a good dozen or more casks? My stores are running dry this time of year!"

[Jurai]

"I an' my comrades 'ave jus' signed on fer guard duty, though I would nae doubt tha' we could send some Ironhold Stout yer way, wit' proper payment, o' course. Uncle Sigmund's a lit'le picky abou' tha ale stores." Zircon said.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

After receiving his own share, he sat down. He brought the drink to his nose, swirled it a little and took in the fragrance of the dwarven brew, before taking a gulp.

"Mmm! Ahh, this is good! The roasting of the malt is just perfect! I can see the ingredients are of the highest quality, yes, but there's something there that makes it all so...different. So different in the best way! Do pray tell, master dwarf! Is it the water, the yeast, or is there something you put to make this exquisite stout?"

[Torgarn]

Randor signs the sheet with a flourish and seats himself. Never one to turn down an ale, he drinks his in a single go and slams his mug down. Fantastic, though I still prefer a good elven wine myself.

[Illven]

Annanil sips before trying.

And absolutely hates it, making a face.

Anyone want the rest of my glass? She offers as she calls the barmaid over.

[Jurai]

Zircon reacts to Annanil's dislike with a look of bewildernment most un-Dwarven. "What? Are ye daft, lass? Nobo'y loiks Ironhold Stout on tha firs' sip! Have yerself ano'er, and it'll grow on ye!" He says.

[Mordae]

With Gruenab pulling the pints, Lexie scurries over to heed Annanil's wave. "Can I get you something, miss? Perhaps a bit of goat, or a loaf of brown bread?"

[Illven]

Can I get a drink of anything else? She asks.