The Drowned Rat turns out to be easy to find even in the maze that is the Ostwald. A tired looking watchman trying to deal with an arguing husband and wife points the way and after only two or three wrong turns you find yourselves in front of a tall but shabby half timber building with smudged windows and a thatch roof. Swinging above the doorway is an old wooden sign with a crude painting of a rat in a bucket.

From within the establishment you can hear gales of raucous laughter.

Stepping through the threshold you are greeted by a blast of a scent that makes even the streets outside smell like wildflowers - a rolling wave of ale fumes and body odour mixed with cheap perfume. As your eyes adjust to the darkness you see every eye in the tavern has turned in your direction.



There are about a dozen or so patrons, mostly human though you do see a couple of sly looking halflings playing dice at a corner table. The clientele all seem rough sorts; labourers, doxies and men whose exact job probably warrants the attention of the Watch. Not all of the gazes are hostile exactly, especially when the beholders note your weapons and tough appearance, but you definitely feel you've attracted attention.

The barkeep, a great stout man with a paunch an ogre would envy and sweat stained red hair plastered to his head hails you in a strong Middenheim accent: "Ev'n strangers, what can I get you?"

Pieter took in the rough crowd and stepped across the threshold, directing his attention to the barkeep though his fingers made a hand sign of welcome he hoped the other clientele would recognise, “Ale, and a quiet chat, friend?”

"Ale. And perhaps something to eat. Something that doesn't have any parts of rat in it." Klinka added, looking around and nodding to the halflings in the corner. Perhaps this place was not so bad for an ex-convict to get a feeling of what's going on it the city's darker alleys.

"The rat's the best bit!" laughed Lukas, trying to hide that he was at least a little intimidated by the rough looking types and the buxom women currently eying the group up.  He glanced over at Pieter and wondered if he was signalling something to the innkeeper that was beyond the rest of them.  He resolved to keep a close eye on his purse and also that he would avoid gaming with the halflings - it was a big assumption thinking they would all be like Edgar.

"Ale and food," Lukas agreed, accidentally catching the eye of a painted, yet tired looking woman and smiling back.  It possibly looked more like the grimace of a fool...

The big Kislev didnt care about the attention he attracted. Closing in on 2m he was always a few heads taller than most patrons at the inns he had visited in his life. With a satisfying grunt he joined the others at the bar. He removed his large halberd and leaned it against the bar, making sure that anyone who would think about messing with his group of friends, would most likely be impaled by the weapon.

He pointed at Lukas and indicated he wanted the same order.

The barmkeep nods. "Four ales then and the house stew. Just the pie, rat is extra." He laughs at his wit, then leans in closer to speak with Pieter. "Eight pfennings for the ales, four for the pies, two more for the quiet chat stranger."

Fyodor's ostentatious handling of his halberd causes a stir amongst the other patrons but nobody makes a move to confront you.

Klinka finds his nod returned by the halflings. They turn to each other and whisper something in a conversation too low to here, then gesture at an empty stool at their table, obviously inviting the dwarf to join the game.

Lukas finds himself winked at by the doxy. She strolls over to greet him. Up close it was hard to tell how old she was beneath the makeup - she could have been twenty and had a very hard life or she could have been forty and aging like Bretonnian wine. "Afternoon soldier boy," she purrs, studying Lukas's many fresh bandages, before turning a pair of blue eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes to Lukas's face. "You 'ave been in the wars 'avent you?"

One of the local patrons - a spindly looking man with a scrubby beard - gives a half-drunken laugh as the wench paws Lukas: "Your eyes are going Gretchen! 'E looks as poor as as he does 'omely!"

---

OOC: Gossip Test for Pieter (assuming he pays!)

Anyone else who wants to try for Gossip can do so but you be prepared to pay 2p to buy a drink for whomever you are asking!

You can find a table to sit out in the corner of the tavern.

"Two more ales for my friends." Klinka said, then collected three tankards and a bowl of stew. "I'll join you later, fellas, after I check news with my halfling friends." he said and strolled to the corner table occupied by the shady non-humans.

"Greetings. Name's Klinka. I'm new in town. But not particularly inexperienced with the law." he said, sitting down and using some of his Prison Cant to convey the message. "Been a rather troubling march to get here. Might as well hear what's going on around. Humans trouble you a lot?"

No joy!

OOC: 14:38, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 76 using 1d100.  Gossip (Fel 21).

"Yes, I have been in the thick of it.  I've seen things you wouldn't believe out there beyond these walls," replied Lukas to the woman, who to be honest scared him a little with her outwardly show of affection.  "A drink for Gretchen too," Lukas added, sliding a few pennies on the bar top.  He gulped wondering if he needed the drink more than she did.  "Led a party of townsfolk to the safety of the walls.  Fought mutants, beastmen, witches too."  He instantly felt guilty bringing the death of his friend into proceedings so changed subject.  "You know, even saw elves in the forest.  Now they were something else..."

Lukas realised he was bragging rather clumsily when all he really wanted to be was polite and to try and gently escape the attentions of Gretchen.

"Lot of strangers in the city these days.  Bet you've a tale to tell about them passing through." he suggested hoping to steer the topic of conversation away from the tender loving care and bedside manner Gretchen may provide.

(OOC:  No luck! 16:13, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 36 using 1d100.  Gossip Test (Fel 24).)

Grudgingly paying over the coin for everyone, Pieter was sparse with his words with the barkeep - perhaps too sparse, "New to Middenheim, wanting a roof and some introductions ... having seen the scacity in the city"

22:03, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 85 using 1d100.  Gossip (Fel, 27).

The ale is dark and bitter and clearly not of the best quality, but then it has been a long journey through the wilds and it is still ale. Likewise the stew is far from the best but it is edible and warm and Klinka at least has had worse in gaol and down the mines.

(It also seems reassuringly rodent free.)

Unfortunately your conversational skills leave something to be desired. The barkeep shrugs and takes Pieter's coins in one grubby hand, swiping them off the counter. "Not sure I knows many folks around here stranger. Anyone in particular you'd like to be introduced to? As for rooms you'd be wanting an inn and I'm just a tavern keep. Course, a brass or two might shake up the old cobwebs there..."

The barmaid, passing by with a tray of ales rolls her eyes. "Don't try shaking down this one Johann, he looks tough. Look he has two swords."

The barkeep - apparently 'Johann' - sends an angry glare at the backside of his barmaid before turning his attention back to Pieter.

Over at the halflings table Klinka is having a little better luck. The two halflings look surprised at the dwarfs presumption but are grateful for the ale and they share a glance with each other when Klinka uses a little convict slang. A scruffy looking male and female they are so alike in age and appearance that they can only be brother and sister.

"Afternoon Klinka," the female says. "Thanks for the ale! Not many dwarfs come in here."

"Aye!" says her brother, "I thought you folks preferred your own taverns rather than manling ale? Well Middenheim treats us well enough I suppose. 'Course things are topsy turvy right now with the Graf and his army gone north to kick the barbarians back to Norsca so who knows what the morning with bring?"

The sister nods and grins. "What's your story Klinka? You aren't <i>just a pretty face right?"</i>

Over at Lukas's post Gretchen looks briefly interested when Lukas mentions Elves but it is clear her interest is rapidly waning as she starts glancing over at the silent but impressive figure of Fyodor. "Uh huh, that's great... who's your foreign friend?"

The first mug of ale goes down in 6 seconds flat. He wipes his mouth and beard in one stroke before waving mug at the innkeeper for another round.
He then lazily turns around and leaning against the bar he takes in the full scene of the inn.

As the innkeeper brings the second mug Fyodor grabs it and cheers with Lukas "Da!War hero! Stopped bridge charge with body! Very brave. You like?" the big warrior explained to Gretchen.


He takes a big swig from the mug "Tell me city news, I tell you me."


OOC:  16:37, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 5 using 1d100.  Fel - 32.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:37, Mon 10 Oct 2022.

Klinka drank and ate listening to the halflings. "Well, I suspected your kind also prefers their own inns. I don't know about ale, but I'm sure food there is much better." he said between spoons of the stew. "As you can see, some of my companions are umgi, so I followed them here." he concluded with a shrug.

"The story? Oh, a simple one. A good dwarf gets accused of some crime he didn't do, gets sent to the mines and pretty badly burnt there. Another good dwarf gets him out, but our ex-convicts finds himself trapped in some khazid in the middle of the elf-infested forest. We made it out, me and my companions." he explained with a smile. "Strange thing is... I always thought I'm very pretty for a dwarf. But that might be because I haven't seen myself in a mirror for decades."

Fyodor might not be famed for his conversational skills but he clearly has a certain something. Gretchen seems very taken with the towering Kislevite and is soon cooing over him, happily gossiping. She does occasionally seem to remember Lukas is sitting there and turns to include him in the conversation but she quickly turns her attention back to Fyodor and eager to hear him speak in turn.

"The Graf and the Emperor are out there with the army chasing the Chaos barbarians back home. A lot of the good men left with 'em which is why Middenheim is so dull," Gretchen pouts playfully at Fyodor, dancing her fingertips across his chest. "At least until you turned up. There are a lot of foreigners around these days - Wastelanders, Tileans, Bretonnians, even Arabyans and Southlanders. Mercenaries looking for a good fight and a full purse. Then there are the elves..."

She wrinkles her nose as if she's just smelled something bad. "Some of the girls go moony over the spike ears but I like real men. All you Kislevites are real men aren't you?"

Having reassured herself that Fyodor is in fact a real man Gretchen continues: "Anyway with ole Boris away his idiot cousin Baron Klaus and his bitch of a wife are regents but the person really in charge is Commander Schutzmann of the Watch. He's a stick in the mud who has never had a day of fun in his life but he's not crooked. Looking for recruits too, with so many of the young men away in the army."

The halflings sitting with Klinka look appropriately sad at his tragic tale. "A bad hand there," the male halfling says. "You looking for... honest... work?" He leaves a significant pause around the 'honest'.

His sister shoots him an annoyed look a dig in the ribs. "Uh, what my brother meant to say was do you fancy a game of dice?"

Fyodor leaned back against the bar. He had a mug of ale in his right hand while his left arm was around Gretchens waist. He smiles, nods and listens to what she has to say about the Graf and the Emperor's crusade.

"Who is Baron Klaus and wife? They like Commander?" the large man asks and gives Gretchens hip a gentle pat.

Klinka smirked. "Tell me, friend, do I look like someone who can get honest work? I seriously doubt it. But I'll stick with my umgi friends, maybe they have more luck."

Playing dumb maybe was not the best decision if he really wanted to get a job, but he didn't particularly trust the pair. If they believed he was dumb enough, perhaps they would be more talkative.

"A game of dice? Well, my fingers may not be as good as yours, but we can always try."

Lukas breathed a rather large sigh of relief when Gretchen turned her attentions to Fyoder who, to be fair seemed to be quite taken with his new friend.  Lukas sat at the bar quietly nursing his drink, whilst listening closely, trying not to get drawn into the conversation.  It did seem that if they were stuck for coin there was going to be a shift in the Watch if they desired it.

Unfortunately an illiterate tavern wench is probably not the best insight into high Middenheim politics. Still Gretchen tries: "I don't know 'ow they are, but old Schutzmann is a stickler and they say the Baron is a fop - and I've 'eard his wife used to be an actress. An actress and now she's lording it over us like Lady Muck!"

Over in the corner Klinka finds to his surprise that the bone dice have rolled in his favour. The halflings, looking none too happy slide a silver shilling across the table.

At which point the door to the Drowned Rat swings open and a group of rough looking men stride in. One of them - the biggest and ugliest - scowls as he looks directly at Fyodor and at Fyodor's arm wrapped around Gretchen's waist.

"Oi! What are you doin wif my girl?"

"Uh, terribly sorry for that, fellas." Klinka said, putting a coin back to his pouch. "Tell you what. I'm happy to part with that shilling should you ever come across... honest... work that might be suitable for an experienced dwarf like myself."

He wasn't sure whether the halflings would be good choice as friends, but keeping his options open was always the key to survival. Particularly in a large city like Middenheim. Who knows what happens with his fellow companions - especially that one was just about to be the cause of some nasty brawl. Klinka checked his chisel, patted his axe and sipped some more ale, watching the unfolding events.

Lukas was still banged up badly from his encounter with the magical wolves so the last thing he needed was a fight.  He continued to sip his beer with his left hand as if the commotion was nothing to do with him.  His right hand slid surreptitiously to the handle of his hand axe, shielded from the men.

If they were sane then they'd think the better of starting a brawl with Fyodor, especially since he would have back up from the others, but right now Lukas cared not for being a human shield.

Fyodor listened careful to what Gretchen and was about to answer when he was rudely interrupted by what could only be the local bully. He finished his beer and gave them empty mug to Gretchen and gently moved her aside "Hold.".

He raised his hands in front of him in a defensive position "Have beer and talk. New to town. Have questions." he explained in his broken Reikspiel.

Pieter slid the barkeep a pair of pfennigs to try and jog his memory, half paying attention to the others and the ebb and flow of conversation. His ears pricked when someone mentioned elves, but he dismissed it as fanciful muttering such was the five, eying the barkeep for answers to his questions

Go for Intimidation if being charming isn’t working

At the entrance of the ruffians, his eyes narrowed, however. His leaned over-casually against the bar, loosening up in an obvious manner

The coins Pieter slides across the countertop disappear as if by magic. "Thank you stranger," Johann the tavern keeper says, suddenly jovial. His small shrewd eyes look at Pieter, obviously studying the man. "If yer after a room sir I'd advise the Blue Boar in Southgate. Not good enough for nobs or elfs but good enough for 'umble folk. If yer after a job..." He glances around and lowers his voice: "There's a new gang in the city calling 'emselves the the Iron Triangle, though word of a friend of a friend is they go by another name by 'emselves. Ain't worked with 'em myself and I've 'eard they can be nasty enough but they pay very well or so the story goes and a tough lot like you and yer friends could go far. They meet in the Broken Moon in Altmarket."

Raising his voice again Johann continues: "Course if slitting throats and breaking legs 'ain't your fancy you could look for bodyguard work for some lord or lady. Or if you 'ain't got the brains Ulric gave a Snotling but you want to work legit there's always the Watch."

Over at the table Klinka had chosen the halfling brother and sister look at each other thoughtfully, nod, then in turn offer grubby palms across the table for Klinka to shake.
"I'm Greta, this is my brother Hans," the female pipes up. "We'll keep you in mind dwarf. You can find us here most days."

Everyone in the tavern falls silent as attention turns to the door frame. A very tall, powerfully built man enters with an auburn moustache, a pale face crisscrossed with ancient scars and cold grey eyes. From his clothing and the swords slung across his back he is either a soldier or recently was one. At his back and obviously his friends (or lackeys may be a fairer word) are four oafish looking men, smaller and less commanding than the first but each looking like they've seen a fight.

"Leave 'him alone Rolf," Gretchen hisses at tall man. "You don't own me!"

'Rolf' strides into the tavern proper, stomping towards the counter and Fyodor and Gretchen. He makes no move to draw a weapon but he is flexing his massive fists. "Right, I bet you was just 'talkin'. Let's see 'ow well you do it wifout teef!"

---

OOC: Okay, everyone roll initiative (Agility + 1d10). If you beat 41 you can describe what you are doing straight away.

Be specific whether you are drawing or brandishing a weapon or not.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:04, Mon 17 Oct 2022.

Inwardly, Lukas rolled his eyes.  He really didn't want to get into a fight over nothing in here....

(OOC: 22:22, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 40 using 1d10+35.  Initiative Roll (Agility 35).)

Fyodor stood his full height as Rolf approaches eyeing the man and his goons. His berdysh is easily within reach but he doesn't immediately go for it. Instead he watches the man make the first move.

Ooc:

16:54, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 45 using 1d10+36.  Initiative
Dodge blow and then punch him if he attacks unarmed. If weapons are drawn I will use the berdysh