A tall, buxom auburn haired serving wench approached the door. She handed a bucket of warm, nearly hot water to Barg with one hand as she took the handful of offered copper coins in the other. Eying the coins with a seasoned eye she told Barg, "Clean that muck off you, place stinks enough of farts, feet, and finks. This'll get you a decent room with a decent bed, keep you well fed on decent boar and bread and slightly drunk on decent beer. It will not pay debts at the tables over cards or dice, a shave and bath are extra, and no whores in your room."

Looking at Brengalyn the serving wench flashed a bright smile that made her face take on a sultry look, "My but the big strong one bring out the heat in loins. Take a seat where you would like. Got some sweet wine spiked with strong liquor from the town of Villanor, three days south of here, it'll put a fire in your belly and love in your heart. For a silver I keep your goblet full, and bring you out a plate of aged cheddar, ripe grapes, juicy roast pork, and some fresh sourdough rolls with butter."

Her doting smile and easy charm wasn't lost on anyone, and it struck Brengalyn that this woman was the first human in quite some time to see her as warrior, and customer, instead of outcast. She would have to keep an eye for this one, strong and easy company often led to an empty purse come morning.

Turing away the woman called out over the din of the common room, "Lupo, a pitcher of Villanor's Best and a lord's plate for the warrior here, a bag o'coppers special for the goblin, and tell Lindor that the old maid with the tea needs a stronger pot of the black root. I told them old gals like a hardy brew."

She began walking through the throng, shoving her way past grasping hands and slapping aside any that came to close to her swaying breasts with little more regard that to swatting at annoying insects. A short, stocky man, or maybe just a tall, swarthy dwarf came out of the kitchen holding a wooden slab tray that carried a steaming ceramic pot of tea and made his way toward Thamkis. Unlike the attractive woman, he had no need to push through the crowd; it parted before him as if on queue.

"Sounds good."

Fishing in her coin purse Brengalyn produced assorted eight silver pieces, six copper coins and a hexagonal gold piece stamped with a bee and comb.

"A bath as well. And the services of a laundress or washerwoman. My night's stay and stabling for my horse."

She moved the coins with her fingers as she itemized what remained of her requirements, moving the silver for the sweetwine and food board last.

"I shall find a seat and await the food."

Hanging her cloak on the nearest peg to the seat she found, or across her chair otherwise, Brengalyn parked herself close to the center of the action, enjoying the singing and music. She smiled widely, though she grew a little sad as she watched the orc sing, a thought crossing her face. The copper coins she'd produced to throw the orc slipped back in her pocket, and she cast an eye about, watching the wandering goblin with some trepidation. Here to steal and injure, no doubt, and reeking of some sewer or latrine by the miasma coming off him

Penny began to move about, she stared at the waitresses chest a moment as she walked past and watched the goblin with interest. The warrior woman sat down nearby. She smiled, bidding her fellow musician to take his fill of the coins they made and sat besides the well-dressed, tall woman. "Helloooo there!" the gnome grinned feeling slightly buzzed. "You! You have a story don't you? Let's hear it!" She stood up excitedly on the chair, her eyes matching the warrior woman's eyes in height.

Barg looked up at the barmaid the way a cow looks at an oncoming bulette, eyes wide open. He twisted his face up really hard and thought for a moment

"Of . . . course? No horse is good, horse is foul creature-"

He spat on the floor

"Pah! Not belong in room, unless having a roast!"

Barg took the bucket and nodded, stripping out of his hide armour and overclothes, gathering it all in a large bundle and walking with all those things, clad in his loincloth, to the door to dump the barrel over his head and return, dripping, to the common area

"Muck cleaned! I will store my clothes safely now."

And just like that he wandered off to stash his clothes and armour under a table.

Thamkis smiled when a new pot of tea arrived. She looked at her haversack with an 'I told you so' expression and sagely nodded to the arriving dwarf, speaking to him in dwarven over the noise

<"A good evening to you. Most kind of you.">

She watched the gnome go off to engage some warrior woman. Likely this tall, dark and leathered beast was the worst sort of tavern patron . . . an adventurer. Good for killing your rats of unusual girth, not so good for keeping your children safe later.

"Tell me, has any news come to your ears recently?"

"The king is having a ball, celebrating some frivolous holiday for his latest queen." He spoke, his voice all deep bassoon and dry leather. "In eleven days. Tis to be a grand gala."

He held up his hands in pantomime awe. He smiled easily, but his hands were those of serious man. Callous and scarred in the manner of a Dwarf too accustomed to the physical rigors of axe and fist. His smile faded to a semi scowl, his natural look, that suited his bushy mustache and overly large nose.

"An Elf, name of Relkin Shadowdale," he snorted a laugh as if the name was supposed to carry some weight, "comes here in early hours before sunrise. Says he is looking for others to help him find a lost cave in the mountains south of Kardican."

He laughed, a real guffaw, then turned dour once again.

"Damned fool." Lindor, she recalled him being called, spoke with a serious edge to his voice. "I was raised in the mountains here about. Fought in them, mined them, and God's know the truth, I cut many a route through them. Never heard of a lost cave, not in my one hundred and eleven years."

Someone called his name drawing the dwarf away.

Brena smiled a half-smile and looked away for a moment before coming back to the little gnome

"I must say I haven't been approached this directly in a while. At least not in a crowded tavern."

Leaning forward, the warrior spoke in a conspiratorial tone

"I'm just your average sellblade, tramping up and down the hedges of the countryside. I just returned from the contested lands, where I had the glorious distinction of collecting taxes being withheld from a local lord. Not that I saw much of that coin . . . so I stole a horse in lieu of payment. Because she liked me and I took a liking to her."

The little gnome was charming to be sure, and Brena found herself telling the story gladly and openly.

"You look a bit out of sorts, even in a higher end place like this. Why does a gnome were finery to an inn?"

Barg popped up at the mention of caves and tunnels

"Hello! Could not help overhearing about cave! Lucky day for you, Barg is expert detector, will find cave! Cash on the livery, Barg always says."

He put hands on the haversack

"Old woman would do well not to speak to a bag, no telling what could be thought!"

Putting a hand inside he withdrew it quick in pain, holding his fingers

"Something bit Barg on snatching hand!"

"Goblin should not put his hands in my bag, seems like. Sometimes things bite."

Thamkis smiled and bugged her eyes out

"Hand me the bag, carefully mind, and you can sit."

She took the haversack and whispered to the contents inside, a rustling heard from within

"Do you drink, master goblin? I'll buy you some ale for the bite to your hand."

In reply to Brengalyn (msg # 13):

Penny listened wide eyed at the mercenaries story, "So our daring warrior is a redistributer of goods I see! Splendid! I should like to see your horse! They are delihtful!" the bard chirped excitedly.
She twirled while in the chair "I wear this dress everywhere! It belonged to nana Perseus. I'm Penny by the way! Penny Perseus!"

A plump dwarf arrived with Brengalyn's wine and food and placed in on the table with the ease of much practice. She smiled in a friendly manner, but the lines in her face gave away her elder age.

"Fine playing, my dear, will you be needing food or lodging?" She said. He northerly accent wasn't lost on either Penny or Brengalyn. "My husband and I would be willing to put you up for the night, food and bath included, if you would play for a while."

Not too far off, a tall man in plain white robes laughed and said in Goblin Tongue, "That was funny, mayhap you could find your way to the kitchen for some chickens. I could use a good laugh tonight."

Brengalyn laughed at the suggestion she redistributed goods

"Of sorts, yes."

She extended a hand to Penny, holding it in front of her

"Brengalyn. And yes I think Velvet would like to meet someone so impeccably dressed"

She clapped in approval at Penny's twirl and leaned back to allow the food and wine to be laid out. Snatching up the wine she took a sip and pronounced it suitable.

Barg smiled toothily when the other patron laughed, scrambling as he was to hand off the bag. He smiled and pondered aloud to Thamkis' hearing

"Barg could steal a chicken! Barg has stolen many chickens before!"

He looked to the other patron, calling out in goblin.

"I am glad I made you laugh! I will see what I can do!"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:54, Wed 03 June 2020.

Thamkis tutted sharply and responded in accented goblin

"Hey now! No stealing chickens. They'll be looking for any reason to not have you here, make sure they don't throw you out!"

"My wife was trying to be humorous." A gruff voice said. "Don't steal the chickens, there wouldn't be anything for you supper otherwise."

The dwarf moved on through the crowd with a tray in his hands.

The door to the Inn flew open, gusts of storm driven rain splattered nearby patrons to their amusement as a cloak wrapped figure staggered in and dropped to the floor. A trio of short, darkly painted arrows protruded from the person's back. Shouts and shrieks could be heard over the music and din of conversation drawing more attention to the body on the floor.

Penny smiled, she was about to answer to the kindly dwarf when the man came into the inn. When he hit the floor the young gnome flew into action. Jumping off the chair and running as fast as her little legs could carry towards it. "Everyone, please! Out of the way! " Pushing through the crowd she quickly placed glowing hands on the man.
Ooc cure light wounds 05:48, Today: Penny Perseus rolled 4 using 1d8+3 ((1)).

Brengalyn was up almost immediately after Penny, striding with big steps and weaving through the crowd with a great amount of grace for her unsubtle and towering form. Those with eyes to see it would notice she had come away with the skewer from the roast pork that had just been set on the table, as if by instinct, now held reverse grip in her off-hand.

Kneeling beside Penny, she watched the magic at work, her eyes keen to observe the bard in action. For she was a bard, or some other type schooled in the old magics, that much was clear.

"Alive?"

She looked up at the door to see if the path the man had taken might be open, and pushed towards it

"Apologies, I need to check something . . . "

OOC: Perception 18 and move out into the rain to look around

Thamkis smiled and raised an eyebrow knowingly as she sipped her tea.

"Now, good goblin . . . Barg I take it? I think you and I will have much to discuss tonight. I must admit, I'd hoped for a livelier time than I was getting, and you certainly have provided-"

The crash as the man entered and fell, struck by the arrows, led to a clatter of tea cup to table (gently) as Thamkis hopped down, taking up a cudgel and menacing people back with it.

"Make way! MAKE WAY! I'm a wise woman! I might be able to help."

Though old and bent, the halfling made her way fairly directly, ducking those who didn't move and coming to rest at the injured party as the large mercenary and the gnome worked.

"Those will have to come out, every time he's moved we risk further injury. But graver still if the arrows remain in. I think your magics may have handled the worst of the bleeding-"

The wizened woman knelt across from the other two and nodded to Brengalyn as she went outside to check

"I'll pull, you keep pressure here. There's a bright girl."

Bereft of oinments, pastes and bandages the halfling worked to snap the shafts of the arrows and set them aside in case they proved a key to his attack, and then pinched the stubs of the arrows to see if enough remained to pull, or if they could leave the arrow heads until later . . .

OOC: Heal check of 21

People shuffled about as Penny and Thamkis made their way to the body. Rolling the figure onto its side and unwrapping the blood and rain soaked cloak everyone gasped; it an elf.

A young, heart-achingly beautiful, female elf. She was nearly unconscious and bleeding. The efforts of the two healers left her breathing easier, the arrows wound up on the floor next her young form, and her torn tunic pulled away to apply bandages. When the young elf maiden's naked torso came into view a collective 'ooh-ahh' went through the crowd.

One of the nearest bystanders quickly used his own cloak to provide cover for the young woman as the others two worked their magic and healing craft to aid her. she would recover in time. Blue streaks, following the the blood vessels under the maiden's golden skin, showed the signs of poisoning.

As efforts where made to save the young elf's life, Brengalyn and several others stormed out onto the Inn's porch, and into the storm's fury, to look for any signs of trouble. Down the street a night watchman's halberd stuck up in the ground with its storm lantern swaying wildly. The watchman lay on the ground in a heap. A heap with five arrows sticking out of it.

At the edge of the lantern's light a trio of short figures, Goblins by their gate, moved quickly to mount spiders the size of miniature ponies. A glint of steel in the light reflected the way only chain mail could, mail worn shiny is spots from long wear and hard use.

Brengalyn looked back through the open door at the arrows; lacquered black, a single barb on the arrow head, the residue of a bluish resin on the shaft below the arrowhead's binding. She sighed, an ill omen for sure, the Black Sons. They were a freelance company of Goblin mercenaries known for their cruel efficiency and their merciless desire to win.

"I'll be damned to a death of razors, the Black Sons." And older warrior said. he stood near Brengalyn looking form the arrows to the three figures. As they watched the trio faded into the stormy night only to reappear when a flash of lightning illuminated the trio as their spider mounts scaled the inner surface of the distant castle wall. In a flash they were up and over the battlements.

Brengalyn stared for a good moment at the mounted goblins, her free hand reaching back for her darkwood bow . . . but it was obviously with her other weapons, her arrows clattering against her hip in their quiver uselessly. So she watched them go.

"The Black Sons. Knock me sideways."

She turned on her heel and returned to the tavern, thoroughly soaked, and stood off to the side out of the way of the door to allow the other would be pursuers to return. There was no way she could run off without arms and horse to hunt goblins. They'd need a posse.

Barg sat alone at the table once the old woman ran off. Nice woman, very particular, big hitting stick.

As the room continued to look at the door Barg made his move, reaching across the table for the teapot first and pouring out the tea into cups to reduce it's weight.

He turned the teapot over and over in his hands, inspecting it for worth in adding to his collection. Deciding against it, he set the pot back down on the table and drank a cup of tea. Pah! Hot leaf juice, what were the big folk thinking?

The commotion hadn't stopped and so Barg fished through his pocket. The one pocket he kept all his things in that weren't stored in his poncho at least. Wrapping his hand around a slippery creature, he produced a slimy toad and placed it on the table and continued to rummage, pointing a gnarled finger at the amphibian

"No hop. Only sit."

Pulling out a fine pocket watch, Barg sighed in relief. It was here still! Opening the watchface by prying it open with his nails (the latch long since snapped by this practice), he gazed at the hands.

"Ah yes. Is that time! Well, must be cracking on!"

Snatching the toad back up with some protest from the animal who'd just adjusted to his surroundings and giving the creature a lick before putting it and the watch back in his pocket, Barg ambled towards the front to see this person who'd made a fuss at the door.

"Oh, is an elf! Barg did not know was in elf kingdom!"

Picking up one of the arrow shafts and looking at it, Barg made a face

"Elf kingdom with goblin arrow. Bad mix, like buko and thudrud."

He brought the arrow to his nose to sniff it as the room continued to spin a little. Wheeeeee

OOC: Craft alchemy check perhaps to identify the poison? 21 if applicable

All eyes turned to Barg. The little Goblin made his way through the crowd to the fallen elf. Without any recognition of their stares, indignation, or contempt, Barg grabbed up an arrows and did a quick evaluation.

He sniffed the arrow, licked it and spit onto the floor with a messy splat, then scraped a bit of paste from it and ran it between his fingers. Snapping the paste away Barg turned to the Elf maiden as she lay unconscious while the old one bandaged her. She was very attractive, would bring a lot of GOLD at auction on the slave market.

There was something else in the taste though. Barg ran his finger into the Elf's blood on the floor and tasted it. A collective gasp went up. He spat, not noticing them, and spat into the floor again messily.

The girl had been shot with arrows coated with a venom, most likely from a spider or maybe a scorpion. He was sure of that, it was lethal with a little time. He was sure of that. And, unless his taste buds lied, she was pregnant. And that, too, he was sure of.

"Bug poison, big stingy or biting kind."

Barg looked at Thamkis and smiled widely

"And is pregnant, no mistake."

The licking of his thin lips left little doubt in anyone's mind what Barg was thinking about a human baby. He looked down again and patted the woman's belly since her torso was exposed.

"Congratulations, Barg hopes for no runts!"

"Poison will kill in thirty foot thumps, or less. Barg not good counter."

"Don't need thirty. Don't need ten."

Thamkis held up a hand, her fingers glowing with dark blue light as she touched a small wreathe of holly at her neck, the leaves bristling.

An emblem of a hexagon made of seven hexagonal cells formed on the elf's chest, and then seeped into her flesh

OOC: delay poison

"We have hours now. A few . . . "

She looked at Barg

" . . . a few thousand foot thumps."

She straightened up and looked around

"Could I get a few strapping lads to carry her to my bed? Barg, there's a clay pot in my wagon-do not touch my mules-carry it here and don't spill"

Brengalyn stood silent as the commotion over the goblin rose and just watched. Though initially offended by the goblin's boldness she let it slide as the two small ones seemed to tolerate him

Whipping off her gambeson, Brengalyn cast it over the elf woman once the wise woman's spells were in place

"Show's over boys, you'll need to pay a copper down at the market to see the like from now on."

Something about the townsfolk's leering off-put her. She reached down to scoop up the unconscious elf and heft her

"Show me the way then granny."

The goad on her leg clattered without the gambeseon beneath it to hold it in place, and a pair of knives on her belt were now visible where  before they'd lay beneath the quilted leathers. Brengalyn wore a functional jerkin chased with owl impressions, though she was not like to hold still long enough to let anyone examine it. Her arms were covered in several small blue tattoos, an anchor and a wave and a gull, and a twisting snake too.

OOC: medium load 133 lbs, hopefully enough
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Sat 06 June 2020.