The Beggar’s Roost Inn is a wide, single story building that sits on the northwestern corner of the muddy crossroads that meet in the center of Geron. The village is quiet, free from the boisterous conversation that the adventurers have encountered in communities to the south, though there are several tradesmen occupying shops along the avenue, as well as a number of peasants leading farm animals or towing carts filled with recently harvested grain and vegetables. The mood of the residents is clearly subdued. All keep their heads down, focusing on the tasks before them, their speech low and succinct when words are required.

On the southeastern corner of the crossroad, catacorner to the inn, a pair of Denagothian lancers loiter, keeping watch on the passerby.

A fire burns brightly in the hearth of the Beggar’s Roost, the tempting scent of cooking food greeting the adventurers as they step inside. A long bar lines most of the spacious room’s far end. A few customers have settled at tables in the tavern’s ample seating area, nursing mugs of ale or eating steaming bowls of stew. A handsome middle aged human woman, her dark hair gathered in a long braid, is cleaning mugs behind the bar. A small wooden sign, propped up close to her, reads, ”Real Dwarven Ale! 4 silvers.”

The woman smiles at the company as they enter. ”Afternoon,” she says, ”What might I get for you?”

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 1):

Killian stands toward the back letting the others do the talking.  Once he is able to he finds a seat in a secluded part of the tap room.

Jayanti wanders up to the bar.

"I'll try some of that Dwarven Ale with a bowl of stew, please. And we'd also like to hear what you have for room accommodations."

Neuken inquires about a menu.  He isn’t sure a mere bowl of stew will suffice for him.

Patch shivered and pulled his tattered and many-patched cloak tightly about him.

"Stew please, no ale, just a mug of hot water, perhaps with some carrot peels or steeped mushroom stalks if you have them." He requested.

Then the odd cleric looked for a place to sit and relax his aging bones.

Making sure that the horses are taken care of, Jarder hands the stable boy an extra piece of silver; "Take care of theses mounts.  It would be ashamed if something happened to them and then something were to happen to you......"

Following the others into the inn. Jarder orders some stew and and some ale.  While waiting for the food he pulls out his pipe places some leaf into it, lights it on the nearby fire and take a long tug .  "Now that hits the spot." he says almost unconsciously.  Leaning in towered the others and lowering his voice; "Well we are here.  Sheriffs office seems the next stop.  Tonight or tomorrow?"

Greyband gruffly but respectfully orders ale and stew and nods at Jarder. "Read my mind. I'm thinkin' tonight. Anyone think somethin' else?"

“I recommend going tomorrow.  We should avoid seeming overly eager... it could attract suspicion.”  He says this discreetly.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:31, Thu 16 Jan 2020.

The barkeeper produces a well used piece of parchment, its edges frayed from handling. She hands it to Neuken, who can see that the writing on the paper has faded considerably. Nonetheless, it remains readable, providing a short list of the inn’s offerings.

Regarding drink, in addition to Denagothian and Dwarven ale, both beer and wine can be had, along with ”Alfred’s Hand Crafted Liquor”.

In terms of food, soda bread and oatmeal are available, as well as mutton chops, turkey legs, and a dish identified only as ”Goat Surprise”.

Orin looked at the sign and then at the barkeeper, with a squinty-eyed glare.  "Tell me true lass, 'cause I'll know.  If it's real dwarven ale then that's my drink, but don't give me no imitation." Then his nose twitched and a toothy grin emerged from the depths of his beard.  "That smells like mutton!" he said, clapping his hands together gleefully.  "Some of that too, if you would."

Neuken orders 'goat surprise' and some red wine, if they've got it.  He does so knowing the risks, but he's in the mood for something gamy.  And he's lived long enough to know that sometimes, you just have to roll the dice.

He'll poke around with his fork before he starts eating, of course.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:18, Fri 17 Jan 2020.

When it didn't look like his request would be available, Patch shrugged. "Fine, suppose I'll have the Surprise as well..."

When his companions were attended to and they could talk, Patch suggested quietly, "Not too fast. I know we've a mission here, but let's let the idea of our presence settle just a bit among the local wildlife before we go visit the Sheriff..."

"Still think we need to set the tone... either a bar fight or a hog chase inside this Inn ought to have about the right affect... or it'll get us that visit with the Sheriff all the quicker!"

Greyband looks unhappy at this but shrugs. "Arright, arright. But we'll sleep together and take watches. Cutpurses no doubt are everywhere here. As for bar fights, one of you can start one--I'll get you out if you do, but don't look for me to start one. That's how you attract attention, in my mind. I don't want to attract attention here."

After finishing his stew; Jarder sits back and continues to smoke his pipe. "Alright so we go tomorrow.  If we do wat to attract some attention then I suggest we don't all do it. One or two into a fight and then the rest can go visit the sheriffs office to bail you out and offer our services.  Should make us fit right in."  Leaning in toward Greyband;"I've been looking for signs of the local guild since we got here.  A lawless area like this should still have one or even two, they may even be able to help for the right price"

Greyband nods. "Works for me. Who wants to get into a barfight? I can use the excuse to jump in and help you, then make sure the authorities don't beat us up bad if we get arrested."

Killian orders beer, Muttonchops and Soda bread.

The Elf looked at his companions "You might want to find out what the penalty is for fighting before you go punching people.  If a war is about to start you might find yourselves impressed into the Denogothian army."

I sure hope these are cardomon pods, he thinks as he has last spoonful of goat surprise.  It was a tad greasier than he preferred, but still a significant improvement over trail rations.

“I don’t recommend having a bar fight at all, but if that is what you must do, I suggest you let your opponent throw the first punch.  That may help you avoid being impressed into the Denogothian navy, or whichever branch of service is hardest up this month.”

Greyband shrugs. "Just as happy to drink up and rest."

"That sounds wise to me," Orin nodded to Greyband, though he shifted in his seat a little.  Agreeing with Neuken always felt a little uncomfortable to the dwarf.  "No need to make enemies on our first evening here."

He took another swig of the ale, surprised at the quality.  It wasn't top notch but he had not expected to find any real dwarven anything here, let alone ale.  Even Denagoths know good products it seems, he thought.

Patch found that trouble often found him, despite his efforts to get out in front of it. No doubt someone here would get offended by the way he held his spoon or catch him stuffing food scraps beneath his tattered and many-patched cloak to give to his hog as a late-night snack. He supposed he wouldn't have to wait long. He wasn't keen to start trouble, but he'd certainly end it!

So he picked at his food and watched the crowd from beneath the shadow of his tall, tattered hat.

Neuken sneers in Patch’s general direction, amused that he seemed to think he could hide that hog under his cloak.

”We also need to find our contact here,” Renia says quietly, after ordering oatmeal and a mug of ale. ”We’ve little to go on to locate him, besides the phrase he’ll answer to. Though I believe he’s established himself here in some manner of trade.”