"behind" at this point is.... 6 days. I keep up-to-date on Big Huge Things, but I like reading about stuff in detail and also catching up on smaller stories.
@Sciborg @bobble @Graylocke Do ya think we can actually do our shopping expenditure now? I'd like to leave around 5:30-5:45 so I can practice my trumpet and then eat, and be ready to resume by 7:00
You get a great feel for this rapier immediately. It's very nicely balanced, has a well-crafted grip, and seems perfectly new. Getting it for twenty gold, you think, is a STEAL.
I do not have much gold on me, but I have some things I may be able to trade. draws shortswords. Elven shortswords. Fifteen gold a piece. I will give you both shortswords for the rapier.
@bobble makes a face, realising that this is not likely to go well and he looks expectantly over to see if the halfling is busy. (Elven) "Sir halfling?"
"Oh, of course! There are two very good inns in town. The Briar and Rose, and the Drunken Dragon." He points out the door. "Both down that way, you can't miss them."
It's now getting a little bit later, so the sun is starting to drift down. The streets are very quiet and the townspeople have mostly dispersed to their homes.
So, when you walk into this tavern, you can see it's a relatively nice place, not like a rough-and-tumble bar. There is nice furniture and chairs, a wide counter, and many people sitting at tables chatting quietly; no one is making a fuss. The counter where the innkeeper should be is noticeably empty.
Ink, when you approach the bar, a woman who is sitting at the bar, dressed in relatively rough clothing, glances over and sizes you up. "First time at the Briar?" she asks.
Ink looks up and tilts his head on one side and clears his throat awkwardly and says brokenly in Common "No say" before asking in Elvish "Do you speak Elvish?"
Ink, makes an embarrassed face and looks over at the other two and then holds up 3 fingers with a gesture of scooping food into his mouth, and then holding both paws beside his head in a mime for sleep.
(If Ink sees Astrid watching he will make a "help?!" look at her)
"Oi, Quilly!" the woman shouts loudly across the bar, and multiple heads turn. "This bloke don't speak Common, he only speaks Elvish. Can you translate?"
A woman at a neighboring table looks up very awkwardly and waves hello. "I can translate for you," she says.
"Oh... Humble apologies, I didn't mean to cause problems..." Ink holds paws up, switching back to Elven. "My friends and I were just looking for some food and a place to sleep..."
"Oh, of course. We can go grab Snibby for you, they're just upstairs." Quilly translates this to the bar woman, who hops up and heads upstairs. "Don't mind her, she's... a handful."
"Oh, it's no problem. I'm Quillian. You're a tabaxi, aren't you?" Quilly studies you with great interest. "What brings a tabaxi to our village? We don't see catfolk here very often."
Ink's ears swivel forward and he says "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am called Ink. We are but passing through and felt the need for some comforts that are not found on the road."
Quilly laughs and motions to the stairs, where the woman and... you think it's the innkeeper? are descending. "Ask Snibby - they can whip something up for you."
Ink, you are the only one who recognizes this being, as you've seen them in books before - they are a warforged, a kind of arcane golem. They descend the stairs and step behind the bar. In a metallic clangy voice they say, "I see that I have customers. May I get the young madams, sirs or persons a room?"
Ink's eyes widen and he looks intrigued, mouth opens to say something and then he clearly changes his mind as looks to Quilly and says in Elvish "Can I beg your indulgence to translate a little longer?"
Ink looks impressed and says to the golem, this time in Sylvan because he is way too curious, "Innkeep, may we have a room for 3 and a meal, preferably involving hotcakes?"
As Ink is talking to Quillian and Snibby, Lae and Astrid, you notice a figure in a dark cloak very quietly slip into the bar, clearly trying not to draw attention, and sit at a table in the corner.
The innkeeper clanks politely and then responds in Sylvan. "Of course."
Ink is startled out of his intense wonder and curiosity of the warforged and looks down to Astrid. "Sorry for taking so long, friend Astrid... I have requested your hotcakes..?"
The man takes out a pipe and flicks a finger, lighting it with a tiny magical flame. He raises an eyebrow at you as he smokes. "None of your damn business, pointy-ears."
Ink hastily pads toward Lae and says in Elven "Ah... friend Lae... hotcakes will be on their way shortly!" and tries to guide LAe back to the table. He adds a polite-ish smile to the man, but only sort of acknowledges him.
