"Smoking a bowl and drinking a little wine certainly sounds good, as does exploring this town a bit."

Ok...you and I are friends now :D

"Me an' my swingin' cod will be havin' a talk outside the building here, then I can have a talk with you folk. A man's gotta have his priorities."

Once the door is open Sharps strides outside and immediately turns the corner on the building.

Hawkmoon looks baffled.

"Was that common?  What could he possibly mean?"

Sunlight explodes through the doorway, sending most denizens of the inn into hiding like a group of vampires.  The sounds of songbirds follows, allowing you to momentarily forget your situation.

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 26):

Boris snorted. "Methinks he needs to use the Jakes.

"That sounds like a great idea."

PM

Me thinks I have no idea what the Jakes would be but I'm certain the tavern owner would appreciate you use it over their floor.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 30):

"The Jakes" was the outhouse, and Boris headed that way. Before he left out into the light he stopped. "I am unfamilliar with this "apothecary". I mean that I know what one is, but not how this one is significant."

"I will stand by... I have used the.. facilities already."

When Boris emerges from the outhouse he sees Sharps standing on the boardwalk, motioning for the hobbit to join him.

When he does he sees the man has something in his hand- a frog on a skewer.

"There's three things ya gotta know when eatin' frog on a stick," Sharps said, through some crunching noises. He swallows.

"First, never eat the heads." He takes the fresh frog, bites the head off and spits it out into the dirt of the street.

"Second, get 'em early in the day. See ol' Tasha there sellin' frogs?" he confides, nodding toward a haggard woman standing behind what is obviously a cart full of fried frogs. "Know what ya don't see? A bucket'a frogs, that's what. They don't want ta be cuttin' and guttin' right here on the street, so they fix up the whole day's run early in the morning. After mid-day the frogs get dry and mebee a lil' gamey, too."

He bites off a leg, chews it exactly once, then swallows. "Third, an' this is important here, frog what come from near to the salty waters taste like a goblin's dick if they don't get out the grist gland. Tasha, here, she's been a frogger on these shores fer more years than she can count. She knows how to do it, don't ya, my beauty?"
Sharps raised his voice.

Hearing her name the frog vendor raises a hand and smiles, her teeth being a most ragged and colorful set.

Sharps waves back, then takes half the frog in a single chomp. "Mmm mmmmm," he coos.

Off the group's odd looks he says, "I get it. Don't look too appetizing, does it? Let me tell ya, I was once stuck in a cave for a week at the Hardship Moors- my leg was broke and a whole squadron of Dashiel infantry was out combin' the surround, searchin' for me an' my mates." He taps his left leg. "The mudmen of the fens kept us safe and fed, but all they eat is worms an' frogs an' eels. No fire, either, bein' as we were livin' on the sly. I got sick the first two days but by the end I could take their food pretty good, because I had no choice. One of my mates passed away from dysentery and starvation. It was hard watchin' him go, but it made me buck up."

Sharps waves the remaining portion of frog on a stick. "Now, this ain't winter fowl with elderberries and brandied apples served on the King's silver at the royal banquet, but considerin' our circumstance-" he motions to the frightened and sparse community they stood in- "it ain't a bad breakfast, either." He consumes the last of the frog and drops the stick to the ground.

"My name's Sharps, or Captain Sharps if you want ta get all fancy and fuss."

In reply to Sharps (msg # 33):

After Boris finished up, he joined the mysterious man at the boardwalk. He nodded at the discourse, as he enjoyed it. "Captain Sharps? Boris Underhill. A most interesting culinary experience. I shall try it myself, now that you mention it. One, please, my good woman."

He bought himself one of the delicacies from the frogmonger, then ate it how he remembered Sharps doing it. Boris wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Ah, yes. An... acquired taste. We of the small folk are no strangers to the art of preparing fine victuals, but our tastes run more to steak and kidney pie.

"I take it you were a soldier? I was a trader, and a traveller. I am not from here, wherever here is. Not Port Strangefellow nor this island."

Having already had the breakfast provided by the Inn, Hawkmoon doesn't bother with having a frog as well.

"And I am Hawkmoon, Crusader of  Mayaheine.  Captain Sharps, was it?"

A nod of agreement to what Boris is saying, as he watches Sharps in a fairly neutral manner.

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 35):

Stoney is still at the breakfast table.
"Nothing like a little rum to wake you up in the morning."

To Boris and Albion (and any others who join them outside) Sharps waves his hand.

"It's just Sharps, leave the Captain part in the back of yer mind. As far as bein' a soldier, aye, that's the truth. There's been a lot of miles since I and the Guard parted ways, an' in truth, I been a lot of things since my soldierin' days.

But a fightin' man, that I am." His hand rests on his sword pommel, not in a threatening way, but in the comfortable manner of one who has spent more days of his life wearing a blade than not wearing one.

"I ain't sure what weirds brought me ta this place, nor have I figgered what has these people so goddamn frightened at the night. But, seein' as no calamity has befallen our sturdy little port this mornin', I needs to study my books for a minute or two to freshen up on some of my combat magics. That's why I'm making for the apothecary; there's a nice building there with colored glass. It's peaceful."

Sharps looks at the local people hustling to their morning obligations. He sighs. "I might straighten up a bit in that house and start a fire. There's a man sells mussels and clams just a little ways down, and a granny who makes bread. We'll have us a boil for lunch. Yous are welcome ta join me, but I needs a little time ta myself first." He looks at Boris. "And bring some wine, when ya come. I wanna hear how you got here, an' see if we can share clues to what's goin' on." Looking at Albion, he adds, "It might be a three bottle story."

Frederick will purchase two frogs from the vendor, one for himself and the other for Dinen Dal. He listens to the man called Sharps while he eats.  The frog was cooked quite nicely.

He perks up when the man mentions combat magics.

Pardon me Cap...Sharps. Is your magic from the Gods or from manipulation of the world mana?

"It ain't the gods," Sharps answers.

In reply to Sharps (msg # 37):

Boris nodded. "Aye, it would please me to spend more time in your company. I am not that familiar with my companions, having met them not a few days before. But outside the walls of the town there is much devilry and unholiness to be afraid of. We saw much that was un-Godly, and that was only after less than a week's journeying.

"My companions were the ones concerned about the apothecary, I just noted their surprise at your mention of it. Perhaps they can enlighten us both?"

It might also help bring myself and Hawkmoon up to date.  We found ourselves in an abandoned village int eh woods and met up with this group.  It has become evident to us that we are not all from this are, possibly not even this world. So if you could enlighten us to the situation.

Frederick ends up purchasing a second frog from the vendor, finding the taste to be delicious.

"Like I said, come to the apothecary an' we'll have a proper sit-down and discuss things in private. Too many ears an' not enough allies on this street, ya see, so come on with me now or handle whatever business yas might have on yer agenda an' meet me later. Seems like some of yas already know th' place."

Once conversation has politely concluded Sharps makes down the boardwalk for the apothecary, looking around to see if anything is different that it was yesterday.

In reply to Sharps (msg # 42):

"We shall meet you there, Master Sharps.

"Master Hawkmoon? Mistress Ondrea? Friend Stoney? Let's make our way to the apothecary when you are ready."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:59, Wed 04 Mar 2020.

"Certainly, Sire Boris.  Let us make our way to this apothecary."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 44):

Stoney finishes stocking up his wine skins, then pays, and follows the rest to the apothecary.

Ondrea and Stoney should know this place from investigating it themselves.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 46):

Seeing most of his time Stoney is inebriated, or close to.
"I have been here before, but I dont recall much about it.  I cant really place how I know about this place."