Lexis nods to Mundin. "Sorry to catch you at the end of your evening. My reason for speaking with you was not all pleasure though. You have the look of a seasoned adventurer in that armor. I, myself, am looking for employment, if you have need of a scout or trapspringer."

Depiron returned to his comrades and saw there was a human woman who looked humble and, for a human, quite attractive. He gave her a smile, a rare thing these days, and sat before his mead again. He merely nodded her way.

He sat and looked into his mead, neither hungry nor really thirsty, and mumbled into it. _{"Moradin works in mysterious ways allright."}.

While Tarmes waited for Penville to consider her question she waved at the bartender and ordered a steak and the Specialty. ”Lets see just how special it is.”

The blonde looks around the room to try and figure out what to do next. She is new to the wide world and to being on her own. Her brother had told Tarmes that she would need to find her way in the world but he had not given her much more to go by. The attractive young woman fingered the coins in her pocket. The might last her awhile if she lived modestly, but not forever. She would need to find a way to make some money. Well that would be okay. Tarmes’ brothers had taught her most everything they knew. She’d be sure to find some way to make use of her talents.

Penville stares at the woman, rubbing his head with a hurt expression on his face. "You laughed at me?" He seems to be in a slight bit of shock.

As his ability to talk returns, he rubs his head and listening to the dwarf behind him, hands over the coin to the bartender. "These sort of things always happen to me. I mean I think I'm cursed." he says to no one in particular.
Rawwooooooo the dog seems to answer nodding inbetween it's whisky lapping.
Returning the nod, the depressed little figure takes a shot from his mug, glancing at the female and rubbing his head.
"Seems there is no place like home. Still home was a cave, so I guess this place is better. And the drinks not bad, food good and warmer, I know Bigby likes it. I mean what are we supposed to do to get a little rest around here? Whenever we stop somewhere something seems to go on, and it normally results in death." He takes another sip.

”Cursed? Death?!” Tarmes’ attention is yanked back down to the halfling and his canine companion. ”Everywhere you go results in death? Are you some sort of jester assassin?” She tried to make light of the situation but all hints of her amusement had gone.

At that point the steak and the Specialty arrived. Tarmes fished in her pocket and produced a dull gold coin which she gave for the food. The glass of the Specialty sat there tempting her but the girl eyed the glass suspiciously. It was slightly warm and crystal clear. ”It looks like water.” She barely took a sip and suddenly sputtered and coughed and nearly dropped the glass. ”Balls of fire!” she swore, ”Sharess Herself could not drink five glasses!” Impulsively she stuck out her tongue and wiped it with her hand hoping to get rid of some of the burning sensation from the alcohol. Either she didn’t notice or didn’t care about the stares she was getting. After recovering her senses a bit she told the barkeep she would just keep to the ale instead.

”Here shorty, you brave enough to try this stuff?” The blonde pushed the drink toward Penville. ”Tis like liquid fire it is. I am called Tarmes. What is your name jester?” She wiped her hand off on her pants and stuck it out to Penville to shake.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Thu 09 Nov 2006.

Penville looks at the drink and sniffs it. "One way to tell" he grins and holds it for the dog. Bigby sniffs it, sniffs again, then turns away to go back to his whiskey.

"There we go, it's either no good for drinking or not to his tastes, and he has stronger tastes than me, so I'll pass too."

"Ho hum, my names Penville and I'm a traveller, not really sure what I do. Though I am trying to like, collect stories, as Bigby is a fan of stories, but I can't write them down, which is a shame. And no I'm not a jester. I've the luck of a fool a lot of people say though. Well the ones not eaten." He looks around in case giant spider people are going to come out and eat everyone. Again.

Raaoow Raaff rooo
Says the canine turning.

Penville attempts to translate:
"What's that? Timmy's down a well? Hahahaha" met with silence and a stare from the dog that makes you think it wants to smack him around the head.

"Sorry it's a joke from... well far way, no one seems to get it. Bigby, this is Bigby, he's saying hello"
At this point Bigby steps up on the stool and extends a paw for you to shake.

"Oooh he likes you" Penville says, inspecting the drink again, wondering of it's other potential uses.

Looking between Penville and Bigby leads the young woman to wonder briefly which of the two of them had more common sense about him. "Nice to meet you mister Bigby. Good call you made on that Specialty." Tarmes took the offered paw and shook it as she would any other intelligent creature.

Turning back to her steak and ale, Tarmes tried to find out some more about Penville. She was beginning to realize he was full of himself...or something. There was something about the halfling that seemed off kilter. "So you collect stories, but do not write them down. You are not a jester, but dress like one. You have a dog that drinks whiskey. And you eat people who call you a fool. Is that about right?" It was obvious the pretty girl didn't think too much of Penville's story so far.

Peering around, it's a few moments before he refocuses on her, and a second before he realises she'd been speaking to him.
"Huh? Oh, eating people? Do I look like I eat people? No, what it is, I mean a lot was right, this dress is from a shaman I met as I was first out with Bigby. He was but a puppy then, and his ability to smell life and food have saved us on more than one occasion. Oh this isn't a dress, I mean the way I dress. Erm, well he likes Whiskey, Bigby that is, but like most dogs he'll eat pretty much everything, except gherkins, he's not a fan of them."

Penville reaches down to ruffle Bigby's head, but his small arms and the stool make the task an impossibly without risk of falling once more. "And a lot of people call me a fool, as I wear this costume and things, I mean costume is a better word than dress, at least it's less confusing, I think, but it's been blessed and where others have died I've been spared with some really odd results. So it's good luck. And I'm told it makes people think I'm easier to kill than I look. But then I've have others say I look really really easy to kill so I'm not sure how effective it is." Taking a mouthful of food allows you to get a word in yourself.

Mundin looked at the short human with a discerning look in his eye, as the gleam from his gleaming spiked platemail wasn't lost, even in the dim of the building, as a mark of a Hammer and Shield was inscribed around a small mark, one of a suit of armor which seemed to be made out of stone, and a heavy mace.  The heavy mace that he carried seemed to gleam in the dim as well.  The trip over to the old runecaster that lived nearby had ineed borne fruit.

Not yet taken away by drink he motions to a stool next to Depiron and himself.  "Sit down, if ye would, lass, and we can discuss more on what ye seek, and what we be looking for ourselves."

After the third attempt to correct Penville she had given up. Tarmes was open mouthed and about to speak but the halfling just kept on explaining. So she shrugged and went back to her steak. It really wasn’t too bad either. And the ale was much better than the watered down stuff they served back home. As Penville’s mouth rolled to a stop Tarmes took her time before replying. She felt sure he would pick right back up again but the funny little man seemed to be done for a moment. ”You remind me of my brother. He likes to go on and on and on. I realized one day when I caught him talking to himself that he just likes the sound of his own voice.” She chuckled and went on before Penville could fill in the silence.

”Are you as new in this region as I am Penville? I need to find some work and a place to stay.” She may have been young but she had become more practical and level headed over the last couple years. ”Best I take care of the important business soon as I can before I find my pockets and my stomach both empty.”

"Well recently new, but oldly not. I mean I was from around her and grew up not far, but we've been away travelling. So we're back now and it seems in much the same boat. So why is it you're out on your own and what work are you looking for? I've always found something comes up." He smiles, chomping away on bread.

Looking around the bar he nods. "See them over there, they looks like an adventuring party. You can tell as they're well armed, enjoying the drink and life and not talking about nothing or looking bored with their lives. That's as they're happy to be alive, as they know they could be dead any time." He nods sagely.

Thamol really does not feel happy in inn.  He want be in barn.  He misses his friends.  However the arrival of young woman does take his interest.  He sit for some time just watching her.  He is quite open with what he is doing.  A smile is found on his face.  For now he does or says nothing.

"Thank you master dwarves." Lexis says as she take a seat at the dwarves table. She has a smile for both of them, returning Depiron's earlier. She raises her hand to call for an ale before beginning. "I seek adventurer for a number of reasons. To advance Tymora's name. To bring safety to Vassa. To increase my money pouch. I came to Perda's Rest escorting a caravan that was headed to Damara. I have reason to stay in Vassa though so we parted ways here." She stops as the ale arrives. She hands the barmaid 5 silver coins for the 3 mugs of ale. "Thank you kindly."

She takes a swallow of ale before continuing. "I've been here for a few days looking for more work, but not seemed to turn up. The locals don't seem to think a woman can handle herself in danger. I assure though I am not the frontline fighter you are in that plate, my daggers will be useful enough in combat. I also have considerable experience disarming traps and scouting." She takes another swallow. "There are plenty of vermin in the hills. It would be a service to Vassa to rid the countryside of them, and it would be a service to ourselves to rid them of their ill gotten gains."

"Adventure," Depiron said disguested. He was very much not himself and it was grief that caused him to be that way. "Little girl, go home before you get yourself killed."

No, it wasn't the mead talking. It was the mood. Depiron had been brooding for a while and he was starting to dislike the ever-lasting babbling. He felt he was an elder traveleller and she just a youngster who had no idea about life and how life felt. He drank the rest of his mead, feeling how he needed it but also feeling how his stomach protested. He put the mug on the table, a little too hard and then looked into Lexis' eyes.

One could see and hear, especially a fellow dwarf, Depiron was not mad at Lexis, he was mad at who she said she was and at the world in general. He didn't look at Mundin.

Tarmes had turned her attention to the two dwarves and the human female that Penville had pointed out. She watched them talking for a moment and picked up a few words here and there. Specifically the fact that the short human was looking for work, same as Tarmes, and that she used daggers for her protection, same as Tarmes. The blonde took another swallow of her drink and sized up the raven hared girl. "Scuse me Penville. You should watch this. I think you might make a story out of it."

Tarmes stood and strode toward Lexis and the two dwarves. She caught Depiron's last few words and tried to figure out if she could make use of the situation. "What makes you think she will get herself killed good sir-dwarf? Sounds to me like the little girl is just trying to make herself useful and earn a few coins. Same as most folk. Same as me even." Her pose made the handles of her five daggers easily visible. "I doubt her aim is as good as mine, but give the girl chance." The taller female smiled a self-assured smile at the two dwarves.

Penville shook his head. How come the fat, hairy, old dwarves always got the tall attractive human girls? "Always the way" he confides in Bigby. Not that he expected to ever get any girls, life just didn't work out that way. Well as most people died as they started to get happy.

"I wonder what she's going to do?" He says to himself. Watching on with interest, as he pulls out a dagger and picks his nails, trying to pry the bits of food out. He'd have to get used to this 'cutlewery' one day. But for now, he ate as needed. Seemed no one cared in taverns, unlike that one time at the royal court...

Mundin listened to what seemed to be an uncharacteristic remark from his recently found friend.  He did give a bit of a level look to Depiron, which bespoke both understanding at his loss, but that what the young priest had said was not entirely necessary.  However, it did give him a good idea at to how to bring the anxious girl to heel if need be.

Mundin wasn't dim-witted by any stretch of the imagination, but he needed something to spurn his own latent cleverness.  He carefully untied the piece of fur-laden scarf from his gauntleted wrist, and surprisingly there were no hole marks within it.  He held it in his hand and let the girl look at it, and his accent was now perfect common, with none of the dwarven inflection, something he only did when he was deadly serious.

"There was a young halfling lass in my travels not too long ago when we decided to go and find the dread necromancer Neconlius II, and stop him from bringing down an undead horde.  Her name is Opa Merryweather, and I swear the girl had some gnome in her, since she didn't know when to be quiet.  She was bright, cheery, and strangely enough, very intelligent.  She had all the earmarks of being a promising mage at some point."

He pointed at the scarf, his face grave.  "This is all that I have to remind myself of her, and she's still missing, if not dead."

He gave a level look, a neutral yet pointed look at the young lady, as some of the dwarven accent came back.  "You obviously have some experience in the field lass, otherwise ye would have never been asked to escort a caravan.  But in me own foolish days not long ago, perhaps a few years past, I lost me best friend since we thought we could tangle with a white dragon and her brood.  I barely survived meself, and live with that shame every day.  Still, we do what we must."

Mundin gave the girl a piercing gaze.  "If ye be willing to travel with us, ye must be willing to give all, your life if need be, and forge your own luck, not rely on luck for luck's sake.  That be a failing I see in the few I know who followed Tymora's path.  If you come to aid our fellowship, and be a member of it, to listen and be listened to in return, and be willing to give yer life for this cause of tracking down this Necromancer with us, yet not being reckless in this pursuit, I believe ye will be welcome.  If not, well, I like yer spirit lass, but ye won't be welcome with us.  Choose."

Lexis's smile twists to a frown at Depiron's words. Her eyes turn from black to almost black red and start to glow softly. "Perhaps if I had a home, I would go to it Master Dwarf. While my 20 winters may not seem like much for a dwarf they are long for a human, and I have been on my own five of them. Being on the streets makes one desperate and I choose to adventure for my living. It is better than stealing from innocent merchants."

Lexis takes a long drink of ale as Tarmes speaks her piece, and her eyes fade back to black. "You anger me and I say to much in my anger. Everyone chooses their own way to make a living. This is how I choose mine. My life is my own to gamble with."

Lexis's frown fades as she listens to Mundin speak. She appears thoughtful after he mentions Neconlius and Opa.  "I am sorry for your loss. I assure you I would never gamble or take unnecessary chances with your lives. I merely state that the adventuring profession is somewhat of a gamble. A noble cause is a great thing though." She thinks for a moment more. "I give you my oath, by Lady Luck. If you will accept me, I will support you in your cause against the necromancer till death or till we mutually part ways."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Sun 12 Nov 2006.

Thamol has finally notice Lexis and now seems to spend next few minutes looking backwards and forwards between her and Tarmes.  Still he does not say anything but watches and listens.
However the little owl on his shoulder does not seem to be very please at his master reactions and flapping his wings a bit.

These guys were a serious bunch. Very serious. The port town where Tarmes had grown up had its fair share of Adventurers that passed through. In her experience they were usually rowdy and liked to have a good time. Only a few had been dwarves and none of the stout folk really stuck out in her memory. But these two were morose and discouraging.

Adventurers it seemed always had plenty of coin to spend and Tarmes had thought Lexis was negotiating for a well paying position with a some of them. She had planned to come over and prove her skill with her daggers and earn a spot next to Lexis, or even in place of Lexis. But after hearing Mundin's speech, that didn't sound at all like something she wanted to be a part of. In fact she wondered why Lexis was still standing here and swearing to stick with them. Adventure and excitement and high stakes were all great ideas. But dead halfling girls didn't sit well with Tarmes.

So she changed the subject, "Say, would you men know where else I could find a job in this town?"

Penville watched on with morbid facination. Surely this wasn't what Tarmes had expected to happen? He tried to think of ways he could, well infact he was having trouble thinking what he could do. He'd only just got back to the cold.

He finished off his meal, chewing it out longly and nodding his head with the action of chewing such meat. Pulling himself down from his chair he takes his drink over and sits in a seat near the posse, in which to see and hear the goings on better.

"So you lot are supposed to be adventurers huh? Aren't you a bit old?" he says, no mirth, or sarcasm in his voice.

Mundin smiles a bit at Lexis giving a nod.  "Excellent, lass.  I think ye'll fit in rather well with us.  Don't mind Depiron, miss, and try not to be too harsh on him, it's been a hard time for him this last tenday, as his companions and his best friend were found dead in the caves near here.  He be a good man, just having the same feelings I did when I lost me best friend some years back.  I'd ask for your hand on this, but ye may not want to get poked by the spikes on me gauntlets."

Mundin then looks at Depiron with a look of comradeship.  "Depiron, we do need the help, and if they're willing to take the risks, we can nae afford to turn them away."

Mundin then ties the scarf back on the wrist, careful to avoid the sharpened spikes on them, before addressing Tarnes off-handedly.  "If there are others around who wish yer services, yer welcome to find but I nae know who's looking besides us.  Besides, neither this plate mail nor this mace of mine were enchanted before I set on this journey.  There be profit to be found, but I admit there be risk.  I lay the same terms to you, as I did the lady seated here.  If ye agree, ye be welcome, if not, ye be free to look elsewhere."

When the motley looking halfling in black makes his remark, Mundin doesn't even look back in his direction as if inspecting his now empty mead cup, and paused for a moment before asking Penville, with no sarcasm or mirth in his voice, "Did ye say something, lad?"

"HA! You know the old ones! Fantastic, I've always been told dwarves had a sense of humour, yet the ones I travelled with before didn't. Well I've only travelled with one. He was last seen running after fleeing goblins. Said he was going to clear out the nest. Bet he did as well, he was a good fighter. Not much fun though, almost killed the gnome though." He gives a heads up and a private cheer for his past dwarvern member and the close fight.

"I don't suppose you'd know Gritaxe Bladeforge?" he says as an after thought. "I make quite a good scout and rescuer, and Bigby is good at tracking." He grins.

Profit and risk. Now these were ideas Tarmes could put into her own terms. The talk of enchanted plate mail and an enchanted mace also caught her attention and stoked her curiosity. She had only opened her mouth when, as before, Penville's tongue went into action. It was just as well as she wasn't sure what to say yet anyway. So standing a little bit back Tarmes waited for Penville to say what was on his mind while she contemplated the dwarf's terms.