Winnie nods and smiles as Berta delivers the wine, assuring her sister-in-law that all is fine within.  "If you could get one of the lads to clear the dishes and bring the desserts, I would appreciate it."

Turning back to the room, Winnie tops up the glasses before she clears the remains of the main course onto the side table.  "As the weather is turning cold," she tells her guests, "The chef has prepared an apple pie, complete with a hot sauce made from eggs and cream, flavoured with some of the spices that you supplied."

A few mintes later the pie, accompanied by a large jug of custard, appears and generous portions are served up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:42, Wed 26 Dec 2018.

Zach Malford has been diligent in planning tonight's meal for Sir Winters. Well everything except for dessert. He was never known for having a sweet tooth. Damn those spies. What good are they if they can't get to the truth of the matter! He sat back, relieved when Minnie described the dessert that was already prepared. He smiled and mouthed, THANK YOU, when she rescued him. Zach made a mental note to leave a generous tip.

"One more thing." Kendrick said after his set his wine glass down. "Prepare my room in both locations. I may drop by from time to time. I'm planning on visiting the Knight Commander."

"Certainly. However this may involve expanding our facilities beyond the simple storefront that we have right now..." Zach explained as he tested Sir Winters intentions.

"That's understandable." He replied quickly his focus on Winnie and the two plates of creamy custard and pie.

Zach smiled. Clearly the outcome this evening went better than planned.

Once the dessert is finished and cleared away, Winnie takes a small decanter from a shelf, along with a couple of glasses.  Approaching the table she sets a glass infront of each man and pours a generous measure from the decanter into each glass.  "A small digestif, on the house, gentlemen.  Not the best of brandies, I am afraid, but among the best that we can get this far north."  With a nod she returns the decanter to the shelf, and leaves the two to their measures of the rather fiery spirt.

The barman calls Wyn across, and points to a man dressed in leathers.  Smiling the proprietor, walks across to the countryman and they chat for a short while, before the newcomer hands something over to Wyn.

After examining it, he nods to the fellow and walks him across to the bar.  A few moments later the countryman has a pitcher of ale in his hand, and heads towards a table full of men dressed in basic but simple clothing.  Then a few moments later, a waiter delivers half-a-dozen more pitchers to the table.

Berta's forehead furrows once more as she watches her elder brother.  Certainly there is nothing immediately suspicious about Wyn's conversation with the stranger and the exchange is not exactly furtive, but from long experience he doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Turning away, Berta resolves to get to the bottom of the matter.  She'll ask Winnie later ... but only after she begs her sister-in-law for a helping of the apple pie.

Darius glances up for a moment to survey the crowd before looking back down at his map.

Old Pete collects a couple of mugs of ale from the bar and ambles over to the table where Darius sits with his map. He sets both mugs down on the table, sits himself down in a chair and pushes one mug across to Darius.

"How are ye going, lad? The map is looking good. Ye've got the shape of Tusk Town right, and the lake and river too. I've not been further afield yet myself. Have ye heard anything interesting yet from others who've travelled a bit further out?" he asked.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:09, Fri 28 Dec 2018.

Wyn grins happily and slaps winnie's booitom as she passes by with the ramains of the apple pie.

"Stop it." Winnie replies, smiling across at her husband.  "We're in public ..."

Darius nods in thanks to Old Pete as he takes a sip from new mug. He takes a look down at the map and shrugs, "it's looking okay I guess, but it's going to take me some time before I've really got the skills down to drawn things accurately. I'm still a novice at this," he says as someone who is not used to be a novice at things.

The poet from earlier has finished his set, and wanders through the room, holding his cap out, calling ...

Winter is coming. The goose is getting fat.
Please put a penny in the poet’s hat.
If you haven't got a penny, then a ha' penny will do.
If you haven't got a ha' penny, may the Gods bless you!

It is well-known that the Dragon's Den allows performers to 'Busk' in the bar, in the hope of making a few coins from their skills.  Just so long as Wyn thinks they are good enough, of course.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:25, Fri 28 Dec 2018.

Old Pete smiles kindly at Darius.

"Don't ye worry, lad, I've seen plenty worse maps traded for gold just because they showed where some long lost treasure was supposedly buried, or the entrance to an old, forgotten gold mine, or some such thing. You just need the right story to go with your map. Some of the folk here in town used to be brigands in this area when the fort here was controlled by their leader, the Stag Lord, so some of them are likely to have a tale to tell about things that happened around here in his time or legends about things before that. The only thing I've seen that might be of any interest was the tracks of a giant stag beetle in the woods west of here. They are of no value in themselves but sometimes they become a real threat to logging communities and woodsmen because they are attracted by rotting wood. I've known of a bounty being offered elsewhere to get rid of them when they become a nuisance," he tells Darius.

When the poet passes their table he tosses a silver penny into the man's cap.

"Thank ye, young fella. That reminded me of many a walk with me ol' dad when I was just a youngster. I don't suppose ye know any tales of things that happened around here in the past, do ye?" he asks the poet.

"Giant stag beetles? Those don't sound fun, or sanitary," Darius mused. "I suppose it's a good start, but I'm hoping that when the expeditions return I can get some more useful information on here. A maps not worth a whole lot if it doesn't provide accurate information after all."

When the poet comes by, Darius also tosses a coin into his cap. "Yes, tales of this area would be interesting indeed," Darius added.

The poet looks, significantly, at the ales in front of both Darius and Pete.  "Thank 'ee gentlemen."

Pete's eyes follow the poet's gaze to the mugs of ale and he just grunts softly to himself before raising his arm to attract one of the serving lasses to order a mug of ale for the poet too.

"Sit a while with us and tell us what ye know, young fella," he advises the poet.

Kendrick and Zach finished their dinners. The two men sat and enjoyed their drink, savoring each sip. Finally Zach turned to Kendrick, "Please excuse me. I still have to attend to business matters this evening." He picked up the silver dagger as he stood. "G'night Sir Winters."

---

Kendrick savored the drink. He sat in the private room until servants arrived to clear the table. The young knight stood drink in hand, "Excuse me, I was just leaving. Thank you." He stepped into the main room and found an empty table.

"I'll be back in  just a moment ...." the Poet grins, then continues his round of the other customers collecting what few coins that he can.  Returning to Pete and Darius's table, he takes a chair and then reaches appreciatively for the ale that was ordered for him.

"Busy in here tonight.  Gearing up for Harvestfest, I'll be bound."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:16, Sat 05 Jan 2019.

Watching the crowd, Berta notes the reappearance of Kendrick, pleased that the young knight chooses to stay on once his business is done, the moreso as from what she's seen of him so far he's not likely to be the cause of any trouble in her inn.

The warrior-woman stares down the erstwhile Poet as he waves his cap in her direction ... but just for the form of it, calling him back with a laconic grin as she flips a silver coin his way and graces him with an approving nod.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:58, Sun 06 Jan 2019.

It had been a while since the last time Domitius had let his hair down and from all accounts the Dragon's Den seemed to be the place to be in town.  Dressed in his second finest outfit he headed in to the bar.

As he approached he paused outside and cast an eye over the new building then with a nod of approval he headed in.  He stopped just inside the entrance to allow his eyes to adjust and to scope out the room.  Spotting an empty seat near Sir Kendrick he made his way through the crowd and said "Good evening Sir Kendrick, may I join you?

Kendrick smiled as he saw Domitius approach his table. "Please do. What are you drinking tonight?" The young man held a glass in his hand. The liquid inside was a deep brown. He brought the drink to his lips and sipped slowly.

Old Pete shifted his chair a bit to make room for the poet to take a seat at the table with him and Darius.

"This is my first year here, so I've not seen what passes for Harvestfest here yet. Something to look forward to though, right enough. So, what's your name, lad? I'm Pete and this here is Darius. Tell us a bit about yourself and how ye come to be here in Tusk Town."

Taking a seat at Kendrick's table with view of the front door, he gave a nod of thanks as he did so and Domitius replied "Oldlaw whiskey, assuming they have some."

With nobody as yet needing to be picked up, sat down or forcibly expelled from their establishement, Berta lends half an ear to the conversations at the tables, snorting with good humour at what she hears.

Cass Mordane would likely never admit it to another living soul, but he might be getting spoiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had to sleep under an onion cart, or curl up next to some drover's dogs to keep warm.

Cass had eventually moved up to a blanket and a place on the floor of some common room of a hole in the wall tavern or inn on the outskirts of Restov thanks to earning a few coins busking in the streets.

As Cass became a better entertainer, the flow of coins increased and where to sleep was less of a concern. Getting sleep was another matter. Cass had begun to spent every spare coin on the Aldori dueling arts, and that meant many long nights of exercise, practice, and sparring.

Then came the Charter and Cass hitched his star to Midmarch and the keen plans of Henry LeMaistre. Henry kept his teams' patrol times short, especially with the approach of inclement weather. And he was kind enough to provide lodging for the members of the Tusk Town City Council.

So when the cold wind drove Cass off the streets and into the warm, cozy surroundings of The Dragons Den, it had been awhile since he had felt so closed in upon. But that was always the way of the coming winter, wasn't it?

Cass stopped blowing on his hands for warmth and looked around the room to see who was present. Then he shook off his chill and stepped to the bar.

"A warm cider please. If it is hot enough to scald a wyvern's tail, I won't complain. I will just draw the heat into my bones. If it is hard enough to stagger a dwarven wrestler, then I won't mind at all. I will just count it as medicinal."

Cass tried to hide the rumbling of his stomach as well. "And if it is not too much trouble, a bit of that dark bread that the locals call Nick. And a bowl of your house stew. If it has game in it, that would be a delight. I know the local cuisine is still in progress, but if I have to eat another eel, I will likely have spotted kittens about the issue."