The Dozing Dragon Inn - A Trilogy Companion Thread
"Another ale!" Cor called to the barkeep. "And make sure that pretty lass brings it." Cor was in fine spirits this evening. Around him sathis fellow dwarves. It was wellknown that the dozing dragon catered to his kin. The free flowing ale had everyone a bit tipsy and when the bard began an ancient dwarven drinking song the place erupted in cheers and all joined in the singing. All but one. At a table in the back sat a lone figure who was a bit out of place. An elf, and a ranger type elf at that silently sipped his mead. Cor caught sight of him once again and this time he deceided not to ignore the fellow. "Elf! Ye you. I ken everyone in here this night except ye. I diina think I have ever seen ye before. What brings an elf into our fine dwarven inn? Surely it is not that ye prefer the company of drunken dwarves to yer own kind so spit it out. " For a moment the room grew quiet as the gathered crowd waited to hear the response.
Arandur wondered what had come over him to enter this place. He sought peace and quiet and isolation-three things that a bar would not provide as it was always brimming with roudy patrons. He sighed quietly. He knew the real reason. One that he did not wish to acknowledge but had no choice. In a rare moment of poor form, he had allowed a mere thief to best him and plunder what little riches he had to offer, including something most precious to him: the band of elven gold that usually sat on the middle finger of his left hand. A ruby red as blood was embedded in its center, a dragon coiling around it. The thief had proven to be more adept than Arandur had thought and, after examining a broken branch on a bush along a trail which appeared to be several days old, he softly cursed himself in the elven tongue. He should of learned by now to never underestimate his foes, for doing so was the height of folly and this time it had cost him dearly.
Thus, he had entered the Dozing Dragon to seek aid on his quest but so far he had been unsuccessful in locating anyone who looked adequate enough for the job. They all just appeared to be farmers or other locals coming in looking to escape their labours in their tankards. He was just about to abandon his search and deem it a fruitless endeavor, when a rough voice hailed him. Arandur snorted softly at the boisterous tone of his words. Another drunk, he expected. He possessed a heavy accent as though he, too, originated from these lands. Another dwarf? Did he know these lands well? Finally, Arandur looked up and took in the man's appearance: a stocky, rugged dwarf who looked as though he had endured his fair share of hardships and had emerged from them stronger and wiser. Indeed, he appeared vastly different in stature than the other, more clumsy, patrons who filled the tavern. Maybe...?
'Elf!' He called, rather rudely Arandur thought with disapproval. Whatever this man's gifts were, manners certainly were not amongst them. 'Ye you. I ken everyone in here this night except ye. I dina think I have ever seen ye before. What brings an elf to our fine dwarven inn? Surely it is not that ye prefer the company of drunken dwarves to ye own kind, so spit it out.'
Aranur tensed as the roudy atmosphere that had filled the inn vanished and he felt the weight of many a dwarf eye upon him. The elf loathed to be the object of scruitiny, especially of the judgemental dwarves and he longed to escape their curious gazes as soon as possible so he swallowed and replied in a mild tone, keeping his voice as polite as he could. Certainly more polite than the dwarf who had addressed him anyway.
'Master dwarf,' he started. 'I did indeed enter your establishment for a purpose that was more than merely getting lost in a tankard with your fellow kinsmen. However, I would prefer it if I could discuss the topic out of the rough prying eyes of all these unwelcome onlookers.' The final part of Arandur's reply was not as well-mannered as he intended, but his eavesdropping audience was making him irritable and in turn, this resulted in him saying whatever came to mind if it resulted in his escape from the undesirable throng gathered around his table. He cast a meaningful look at Cor, his thin brows raised pointedly.
Posted on 2019-01-09 at 18:13:02.
Edited on 2019-01-09 at 18:19:00 by dragon-soul92
Look forward to your reply and hope you enjoy your time with your parents!
To be honest, the freeform roleplaying, such as what we're doing now, I find rather easy. What I'm concerned about is roleplaying when the advanced D&D rules are in place (such aa in the actual TW RPG). It all looks very complex and I'm worried about accidentally making Arandur do something he isn't allowed or cannot do due to his stats or the die roll or whatever. See what I mean?
You can't really mess up rolls as Tann takes care of all of them. If you post you try to do somethign your character cannot then either another player or the DM will just let you know you need to edit your post. We all make mistakes. The Q&A thread is great for bouncing aroud ideas before you make your game post.
"Well if its quiet ye were lookin fer, you'll nae find it tonight. It is Grimpus Ironbeards 150th birthday and there he brought in many casks of dwarven ale. Since it is an insult ta leave a gift undrunk the revelry is likely ta end sometime after sunrise." Cor looked around and then tiped his head at the barkeep. "Me and the lad here are gonna use the stock room. Too many prying hears he says. Needs a private talk he says. Must be some nefarious plans ta be hatched that cannto be spoken in such rightous company as my fine companions." Cor slapped the elf on the back and laughed. The barkeeper laughed and the other dwarves laughed as well. All except one who simple fell off his chair and lay motionless on the floor with only his loud snoring to show he had not crossed from the living. "I'd wager not a one of them will remember their own name in a hour or so, much less anything we discuss but we can talk in the store room if that meets your needs lad. By the way, my name is Cor." Once the two were safe in the store room, Cor closed th door and leaned his back against it to keep it shut. The noise from the common room was muffled a bit but still loud enough to cover anything said here. "Well what kind of business is it that requires sneaking about? And what shall I call ye. Elf might work whiel you are here but I am sure you would rather be called somethign else."
A birthday celebration? Arandur shook his braided head slightly, hoping Cor wouldn't notice, though the dwarf was so preoccupied with his drink it was extremely doubtful. Arandur knew the dwarves well enough to know that they grasped any opportunity to consume their mead in copious amounts. In fact, half of the time they needed no excuse at all. The elf ranger wrinkled his small but sharply pointed nose as he examined the shameless dwarves which surrounded him, openly embarrassing themselves without a care in the world, but seeing as how all the patrons acted in this way and only Arandur found their behaviour unsightly, the only person they were showing themselves up to was their foreign guest. Again, a quiete but sharp sigh was expelled from the elf's sculptured lips and the desire to be free from this unbearable gathering returned. At least the slumbering dwarf became more quiet than he was a few moments before, even though his snores were reminiscent of an old dragon with a cold. Arandur had never been able to fathom how such small beings as dwarves were able to produce such a high amount of noise. Elves were, indeed, rather loud at times but nothing compared to the men-of-the-mountains, the boisterous dwarves. Arandur's kin were apt to go...well, mad at parties and enjoyable ceremonies but never did they get drunk or do the shocking things the dwarves did.
When his companion announced to the barkeep 'me and the lad are going to use the stockroom', Arandur felt his shoulders relax a little and yet another sigh-though this was of relief, not annoyance or irritation-was issued. 'Too many ears, he says,' the dwarf continued with a hearty chuckle. 'Must be some nefarious plans ta be hatched that cannot be spoken in such righteous company as my fine companions.' Cor then delivered a hearty but strong slap to the elf's well-toned back which caused Arandur to lurch forward rather violently and, even through the layers of cloth and leather of his well-worn travelling clothes, felt a burst of pain blossom hot between his shoulder blades. This caused the ranger to abandon all pretence of manners and openly look daggers at the culprit.
Arandur frowned at Cor's remark; fine companions indeed, he snorted mentally. He had seen cattle with more dignity and better manners than what was on display around him. He also frowned at the dwarves' merry mirth at Cor's words and the elf became suspicious of the possibility that they were mocking him. Indeed, this may not be the case as Arandur was a rather untrusting elf that for the most part seemed to find problems where none actually exist, but he also knew that dwarves were a race of beings unafraid to freely express what was on their mind-wether good or ill.
'I'd wager none of them will remember their own name in an hour or so, much less anything we discuss,' in a rare moment that was experienced by Arandur, the elf actually agreed with a dwarf. Indeed, Cor's fellows were so intoxicated in their mead, they were starting to babble nonsense, but Arandur still preferred to be in nothing but the company of Cor himself so when the dwarf ushered him towards the storeroom where he closed the door and propped himself against it, the elf felt somewhat better. 'My name is Cor, by the way,' the smaller man introduced with a wide grin. Arandur's thin brows rose slightly in approval-the first time the elf had felt such an emotion since being in the dwarf's presence. A good dwarven name.
Nimbly sidestepping a large barrel of ale, Arandur faced Cor and replied, 'Arandur at your service.' He paused before continuing to explain his predicament. 'Partly the reason why I did not wish to discuss my situation in front of a large group is because of my shame. That I, an elven ranger of nature would allow myself to be bested by a foe in the very environment I should be so adept in.' The elf sighed for the countless time that night, this time clearly audible even over the noise of the still-celebrating dwarves on the other side of the door which was still loud even though the wooden barrier quieted it down somewhat. 'About six days ago,' Arandur continued slowly, gathering his thoughts, 'a man I could not identify, due to him being garbed completely from head to toe in black attire with a thick hood and a mask obscuring his face, set upon me whilst I slumbered in a clearing one night. He succeeded in plundering what little riches I had to offer and stole into the darkness where, try as I might, was unable to locate him and the things most precious to me, especially a ring of great value, not only in it's weight in gold and valuable stones, but also symbolically. Your assistance, then, would be greatly appreciated and I would be in your debt. As I understand it, your kind have a natural knack for locating priceless items, rivalling that of even the dragons themselves. This is why I entered your establishment seeking one of your kin to help me.' Even though I do not much approve of dwarves, he thought.
But perhaps that will change over time. Perhaps Cor would be the exception to Arandur's personal rule of keeping away from Cor's kind. Will he find a loyal friend and stout companion in Cor? Maybe...
Posted on 2019-01-11 at 06:02:28.
Edited on 2019-01-11 at 07:31:19 by dragon-soul92
"Well lad that is a sad tale indeed. One such as yourself set upon by a thief in the night. We dwarves do love fine baubles almost as much as we love ale. Might I ask what exactly you are looking ta do to the wee thief. Is it a recover of stolen goods ye are after or is it revenge and a painful reminder ta nae do such things agin ye are seeking ta teach him? Or is it simple his death ye seek? I canna offer ta help until I know what fashion of help ye are after. After all, I am a follower of Odin and as such have certain stardards ta uphold. Dinna think of lying ta me lad, I have ways ta know if you speak true." Cor waited to see what sort of response was forthcoming. The fellow seemed trustworthy but looks too often hid dark kearts. If his story was true, Cor couldn't see where it would hurt to at least offer a hand at finding his lost items.
Rayden walked forward, not really paying attention to where she was going, she was simply following Brutus. The young bear had caught the scent of something and had begun to track it while the elven ranger followed at a leisurely pace... that was until Brutus started running..
.. A building loomed before them as the bear continued his tracking of the scent before he simply ran through the door of the building, a pub Rayden noticed.. filled with dwarves.. "oh no.."
Running faster Rayden chased Brutus into the building. "Brutus! Get back here!"
Before an answer could be put forth, a great ruckus came from the main room. Cor opened the door onto a scene of mass chaos. Drunken dwarves staggered around yelling and calling for weapons. A black bear stood looking in the center of the inn looking a bit confused. Moments later a stanger ran into the room, panting and out of breath trying to call out to the bear. "What in Thordin's name is going on out here? Why is there a wee bear crashing our party?"
What in Thordin's name is going on out here? Why is there a wee bear crashing our party?" Rayden frowns and turns towards the voice,
"sorry, he caught a scent of something.. normally he's only this fast when he smells family.. But.." Rayden trailed off turning to look at Brutus, a hand on her hip, her voice stern, "I dont believe that he would be here Brutus, you ran all this way.. scared all these dwarves for nothing." Rayden once again turns her gaze towards the dwarve and tilts her head, smiling sheepishly, "I am terribly sorry about Brutus. He won't harm anyone here."