"Well, if they're skulking about to ambush us as we approach there's nothing we can do about it while we're standing here. Let's just walk in and say 'hello'."
D'aden makes the statement, then waits to see if anyone reacts to it.

The heroes entered the town. No one seemed to pay them any attention. They saw mostly humans, with a minority of elves and dwarves. But there was also an Aurak draconian, which everyone else was avoiding, making sure they didn't get too close to him.

D'aden turns and says, "remind me to be circumspect in my choice of song. We ARE looking for a 'dragon king' and that means any number of draconians could fill roles in the king's court."

Roisin looked awkward as she looked at the Draconian, embarrassed at getting caught before turning her gaze towards D'aden and Olven. "Uh, if it helps, I can speak almost any language. And when I say almost, I mean every language except Draconic. That's not going to help much in this situation. Yes, I know there are some close relatives, but it's not quite the same. I've wanted to learn it, but you know...other things got in the way."

You have heard the Aurak draconians, the rarest of them all, described as the only wingless draconians. They have golden scales and have a sulphuric stench.

The draconic turned onto a side street and you could see that it didn't have a tail. None of the descriptions say that it's the only tailless draconian too. You didn't smell any sulphur from it, but it might be too far away for that, it turned before emptiness space around him reached you.

D'aden pulls his mandolin and begins plunking a tune. "Music is universal, maybe we'll get some information this way."
Avoiding songs about draconians, he starts walking after the possible draconian while singing a tavern ditty.

There's just one way out lady, your lord won't let me out the door
There's just one way out lady, and I just can't go out the door
'Cause there's a man down there, might be a man at arms I don't know
You got me trapped here woman, up on the second floor
If I get by this time I won't be trapped no more
So where's an arrow loop, I can ease out soft and slow
The guards won’t see me, no they won't be
Talking stuff that they don't know
There's just one way out lady, your lord won't let me out the door
There's just one way out lady, and I just can't go out the door
There's just one way out lady, your lord won't let me out the door
There's just one way out lady, and I just can't go out the door

D'aden followed the draconian while performing. Making sure to get closer to him.

This draconian was dressed in a dark green, hoodless robe, gray tunic, brown under tunic, brown pants, and black boots. He seemed to be unarmed. Town's people continued to stay away from him.

Some of the town's people stopped and stepped aside, looking at D'aden and enjoying this unexpected entertainment.

When D'aden was within arms reach of the draconian, the gold scale turned around and looked at D'aden. It was only for a moment and then he continued on.

Roisin looked around before finally accepting that she would be the one that would have to talk to the draconian. She tried saying "hello, do you understand me" in a few of the regional dialects to help narrow down a language that they might share in common.

D'aden says, to his companions, "apparently he's not a fan of the mandolin. I really don't want to annoy him, after all, we'll be asking for his help. Does someone else know something that might break the ice?"

Roisin started talking to the draconian, speaking in a number of different languages. Until the draconian stopped, turned around, interrupted her, and spoke in a language she hadn't tried yet.

[Language unknown: "Ekany readayand tamo evnd rednteain," som mewievel our.]

Roisin nodded at the draconians suggestion [Language unknown: "Comonsure i pr yin. Fo e mite? Po erwhce si tioiveionich on entepo?"]

The draconian scanned the crowd, looking for something, or someone. After letting his eyes run past the rest of you and take in the entire crowd. His eyes soon returned to you. And stayed there.

Roisin nodded [Language unknown: "Olivsaiv all eraarthasshe poul yin tr essersant lohe. N erceta icng p es ac reou uredertho atmo anchetla vortheder eros ndeasthis ast, atehasall olutpl ec ut wipeec riloti pe fi."] Roisin motioned to the others to join her.

Roisin and the draconian returned to the rest of you and as a group you went towards a nearby inn. But they were stopped by some merchant. He was a little overweight, but he dressed stylishly and his goatee was well groomed. You didn't understand a word he said, but Roisin translated for you.

"I heard you sing before," he said looking at D'aden "I know where you can make some money doing that."

D'aden beams, his pleasure at being recognized for his talent is apparent. However, what he says is, "oh, that would be nice. But if the meaning in the words I sing isn't captured by the audience, then the songs would have no meaning. Without meaning, the songs would be worthless. I couldn't possibly take money for a worthless performance."
"Perhaps, after I learned the language, I could return to regale the people with the unbridled passion of my melodies, the warm and dulcet tones of my voice, and the incomparable brilliance of my wit."
"That's what a good sea chantey is for, anyway."

"That is not a problem at all," the man objects. "Listening to music in a language they don't understand is the current rage. So that's exactly what they want."

"It does sound like something I want to do, but I'll have to defer to my friends until I've learned enough of the language to get by. At this point, we're engaged with another party. Is there someplace I could find you after we finish this?"

"You can find me at the Silver Pipe Inn," the man said. "And I am Rufus, by the way. What is your name?"

"My name is D'aden, but you can just call me 'the piper', which would make a lot more sense if I had a flute." D'aden shrugs and continues, "pickers can't be choosers."

"Looking forward to it," Rufus said. "But this, too, may fade. So don't wait too long." The man then walked away and the draconian led you into an inn, above the door to which was the image of a green griffin.

It wasn't the best inn you've ever seen. But food and ale were plentiful from what you could see in front of patrons. The inn was about half-full and a pretty lass was singing in a corner.

The smells of food and spices wafted from the kitchen and the nearby tables. A small fire burned in one of the fireplaces and few well-placed candles lit up the place.

Most of the tables were rectangular, but there were some that were round too and at one of these, three men were dicing around their tankards.

The draconian sat down at one of the tables, away from other guests. "So what can I help you with," he whispered.

Roisin looked puzzled as she stroked Ochre's snout "No, I can't beleive it either, but a charlatan and minstrel needs to make money however he can." she turned to the draconian "Its unusual to see one of your ilk. I have many questions should you have the time. What can I offer you in way of refreshment as part payment for your time? To start with, if I might be blunt, normally your particular race is how to put it politely...in charge of others and in service to one of a dark nature. Is this still the case for you? Forgive my curiosity, but I was cursed with an inquisitive nature."

"Dark natured? Hanna? What have you heard about Hanna the Huntress?" He waved to get the attention of a maid. The one who came to serve you was maybe 16 years old, an auburn-haired girl with hazel eyes, slight of frame, and swift of foot. He ordered a tankard of ale from her.

[OOC: None of you have heard of Hanna the Huntress.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:14, Tue 16 Apr 2019.

Taking a seat and leaning back in his chair, Olven beckons to the serving wench and says, ”Four chickens and a pint of ale.” He gives her an extra gold for her trouble, and then casually glances around the room, identifying the tavern’s occupants and assessing threats.

Turning to the draconian, Olven says, ”Never heard of her. We’re looking for the ruins of the dragon monarchs’ palace. We were told they were located somewhere around here.”

The maid looked at the coins Olven had given her. And dropped them back on the table. "What do you think this is," she asked looking expectantly at Olven. "You need to pay with real coins."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:01, Thu 18 Apr 2019.

Olven cocks an eyebrow at the serving maid. ”Yes, I know. I’ve eaten in a tavern before,” he says, frowning, irritation in his voice. ”These are the coins of my country. Is there somewhere I can go to have them exchanged for the local currency?”

Muttering to D’aden, Olven says, ”A performance to earn some coin is starting to sound like a great idea.”