Cassandra is unsure what she has gotten into.  She stays back with Trevion, not particularly interested in the concoctions or the suggestive services being offered by the burly dwarf bar maiden.

Ereth feels a sudden and overwhelming urge to leave this place, but then he hears the little "voice" urging him to stay and sample the strange libations. Unable to decide on a course of action, he remains silent and still, waiting to see Ornwin's reaction.

Ornwin feels obliged to take a sip of whatever beverage the barkeep may offer him.

Although not interested in experiencing the serving wench’s extracurricular services being offered, Cass reconsiders her awkward withdrawal from the bar and decides she would like to experience one of the strange looking but sweet smelling concoctions.  “Ereth.  I’d like to try the apricot.”
This message was last edited by the player at 02:23, Wed 25 May 2022.

Ereth hands the apricot nip to Cass then grabs two more (the raspberry and the watermelon) and distributes them to Brant and Otis, respectively. Assuming they accept the glasses from him, he then offers the bourbon to Ornwin and takes the clementine for himself. Lastly, he offers the "nip-flavored" drink to the barkeep, asking if they will join us in a toast.

He then turns to Ornwin, "Will you do the honors, Ornwin of the House of Unwin?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:21, Wed 25 May 2022.

Brant accepts the little glass of raspberry drink from Ereth, nodding in thanks.
He peers at it suspiciously, his mind cataloguing the many painful and long-lasting forms of suffering that will likely result from its consumption.
Then, with an iron resolve, he waits for the dwarf to pronounce his death sentence.

Cassandra holds the glass with apricot liquor up to her nose and breathes in deeply.  The apricot smell reminds her of something. A time.  A place. Almost forgotten, but triggered by the aroma.  She remembers the time, several years back, she had just come of age. She was in the Greenfeld forest near her little town of Farnsworth.  Her thoughts remembered the warm summer afternoon, sitting in the shade of a maple tree, next to Old Man Thomas’s orchard.  She smiles at the memory - a happy time and place, far from here.

Her thoughts return to the present. Her smile fading briefly, as she remembers where she now is. But she turns to Otis and offers up the heartiest smile she can muster, just for him, as she raises her glass and encourages Otis to take up his glass of spiked watermelon and says, “Cheers, Otis!  It is going to be ok.”

She then turns back to Ornwin and, in her excitement, chugs her drink without waiting for the Dwarf to make his official toast on behalf of the party.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:50, Thu 26 May 2022.

Otis! Otis! Otis!

"Usually he took most of his calories in liquid form…he would willingly exchange an entrée or a dessert for an extra ration of alcohol."

---From the Chronicles of a Police Inspector

One after the other, save for the abstemious paladin, you down your nips, licking your lips clean after you do so. The flavors are exactly as advertised, redolent of days gone by for some and suggestive of future pleasures for others.

As for the barkeep, they demure, unwilling to drink while on duty, adhering, apparently, to some personal code of conduct.

"Now, that you're starting to feel more like yourselves, what can I get you?" they offer, having restored the stringy shoulder strap of their shift back to its proper position. Behind them stands a vast array of dusty bottles, row after row of them, with one row almost entirely green in color. You could do some serious drinking here. It's not like Tegel Manor's going anywhere. Why not take good care of yourselves for once in your life? You've earned it.

The nip-flavored nip remains on the counter.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:51, Fri 27 May 2022.

Brant tries in vain to maintain his surly demeanor but in the end succumbs and falls into the nearest stool or chair.
"Bourbon!" he calls, "and in a bigger glass!"

"What is it?" the half-human replies, trying to figure out what's been going on.

Ornwin raises his head from his first sip and only then understands he was supposed to offer a toast. He says "To the health of King Durin and all the company!" and takes a deeper draft of his drink.

“Hear!  Hear!” Cass raises her now empty glass and cheers in response to Ornwin’s belated but hearty toast.

She turns back to Otis and says, “Otis, I’m not sure I understand your question.  If the IT you are referring to is your drink, I think yours is watermelon.  If the IT you are referring to is the barkeep, your guess is as good as mine.” Lotti whispers to Otis to avoid offending the barkeep.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:36, Thu 26 May 2022.

Ereth raises his (empty) glass, echoes Cass's, "Hear, hear!" and (pretends to) drink to King Durin. He then nods at Otis, encouraging him to follow suit (only to discover that Otis's drink is back on the bar).
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Thu 26 May 2022.

 "So, uh, barkeep. What do you know about Rump and his manor? Word on the street is the mayor has it in for him. What's that all about?"

Otis necks the drink.

Having drained his glass to the dwarven king, Ornwin waits a bit wondering if he will feel the effects of a deadly poison. If he does not, he just sets his glass down on the counter and endorses Brant's question "Aye, there's strange little ditty about the Rumps going around, so we would be curious to know more of them before we venture into their home manor."

Although interested to hear the bartender’s answer to Brant’s question regarding the hostilities between the the Rump family and the mayor, Trevion saunters back over to the tavern’s entrance, peering outside, curious to see if there are any villagers moving about the quiet streets.

When Trevion reaches the dive's entrance, an early bird, though not as early as some birds, in a frayed top hat and stained frock coat, waltzes in and catches the paladin in a loose embrace and does a half-turn about him, singing a ditty as he does so, the breath of his corruption washing over Trevion.

I get up around seven
Get outta bed around nine
And I don't worry about nothin' no
'Cause worryin's a waste of my time.

The man's waltz takes him all the way over to the bar where the dwarf has already started to shimmy in response to the man's dance. Still shimmying, their shift fluttering about their midriff, they retrieve a tumbler and a bottle of whiskey and pour out a finger. Picking up the melody, they continue the number:

I used ta do a little but a little wouldn't do
So the little got more and more
I just keep tryin' ta get a little better
Said a little better than before.

With each vocalization of "more," they add another finger to the tumbler until it stands at three fingers tall.

The bartender then repeats the process, this time with a bottle of bourbon for Brant, favoring him with with a sardonic leer with each added finger.

"Rumps, not Rump. Innumerable Rumps -- enough for a royal romp amongst the Rumps."

"Now, the mayor," they continue. "He has it out for everybody. He is insatiable. He'd devour us were he to be deprived of his cassoulet."

Sashaying over to Orwin, they aver that the Rumps are "bloody awful" but "Sir Runic's the one decent one of the lot."

"But I don't go over to the manor. That's for adventurers such as yourselves. Nobody in their right mind would go there."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:10, Sat 28 May 2022.

In reply to The Host (msg # 137):

Brant downs the bourbon without a moment's hesitation and then ponders the bartender's words.
'Sounds like it is Runic vs the Mayor, and I'm leaning a little towards Team Runic. Anyone up for checking out the manor?

"Yes," replies Otis, not one to waste two words when one will suffice.

With the party now being in general agreement and united in purpose, the members of the Party seated at the bar settle up with the barkeep, offer the barkeep thanks for the drinks and information, and join the rest of the group outside the tavern as they mustering and prepare for travel to The Manor.

On the assumption that it is still close to high noon of Day 1, the Manor is about an hour walk from the Village, and no items (potions, scrolls, maps, etc) are currently affordable or otherwise were given to Otis on his quick reconnaissance to several establishments in the Village prior to our arrival at the tavern, the Party sets out toward The Tegel Manor.

One of the suitable marching orders (previously proposed by Ereth in OOC) will be used - depending on the layout/width of the road/path from the Village to the Manor.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Sat 28 May 2022.

So be it. Ornwin takes up his position to protect the party if needed and goes with them through the town.

With a dismissive gesture, the bartender dismisses Cass's offer of payment, "I'll just keep a tab for you. You'll be back, won't you? I might like to hear a tale or two of those rambunctious Rumps."

No, nooo, don't leave. There is no exit, I tell you, no exit.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:20, Sat 28 May 2022.