The Changing Hunt

"Well played, good dwarf," Ghillie said and raised his mug. "A worthy victory of the living over the inert."

Gunnar looks at Ghillie wide-eyed.

"You lot must be some stone-cold bastards! People are usually pretty freaked out when a bunch of Dwarf ghosts appear out of nowhere singing a tune. WAIT! Are you ghosts?"

Gunnar pokes Ghillie sharply with his finger to check if he is corporeal.

"I've been buried and left for dead before yet here I am. As the body decomposes, so does the soul, and ghosts are merely part of that cycle sometimes. You shouldn't fear them unless they're angry at you," Ghillie explained as Gunnar's finger poked into the druid's living armour and ended up knuckle deep in a truffle.

Sigmund walks up to Gunnar, slaps him on the shoulder, and says, "My, my! You're always good for a show o' force, eh, my friend?!?

"Your drinks are on me, Gunnar, and here's your room key." He drops the key into Gunnar's hand.

He then looks at Kevin and says, "So, the note says your friends with Viktor, eh? Alright, you get a room here for a week. There may be something in there for you to see. I'd be on me way over there, if I was you."

Kevin sighs but heads off towards to rooms.

"Heading to rest, friend dwarf? Let's walk with you. We could use a good night's sleep," Ghillie said to Gunnar. "I promise I'm very much corporeal."

Gunnar empties a nearby mop bucket and fills it with tankard after tankard of mushroom beer.

"Now my job is done, I can properly enjoy my justly-earned rewards!"

He drinks straight from the bucket, the excess spilling down his beard a bit.

To Ghillie, be responds: "Sure, a rroom is an excellent place ta get drunk! If ye pass out, the bed is righ' there!" His Mror accent gets thicker the more he drinks.

He heads off to the room with the others, bucket in hand. On the way he grabs an empty bucket. "Might be handy later. Just gotta make sure I don't mix the two up!"

Kevin notes the buckets. He then produces a snort string from one of his many pockets. A knot on the handle of the shit bucket. Buckets without knots are for drinking water. Gunnar recognises a tried and tested system from the battle front.

He looks at Kevin, dumbfounded.

"Bloody genius. That might have saved me from a few unpleasant memories in days gone by - Bwahaha!!!"

He takes another swig. And another.

After Alin collects a little information about who they suspect is the target of an old job gone cold, they would come back to talk to Sigmund when when the others had gone to their rooms.

A six foot tall blue bald orc stumbles over the threshold of the Watercrest. He has a powerful build, and is definitely the worse for wear with drink. He shambles over to the bar, nearly tripping over several chairs on the way. "Sigmund, I'm here for the arm wrestling!" He bellows, then belches loudly. "This time I'll beat that runty Gunner."

Gunnar turns as he hears his name and burst into laughter so hard he nearly spills his bucket.

"Bwhaha! Is that Mrak? You're too bloody late! I already won!"

His laughter fills the hall like roaring lightning rail engine.

"That's why I always save the drink for after the contest, mate. But, if you still wanna have a go..."

Gunnar cracks his knuckles.

"Why you diminu... diminu... short, you're short!" Mrak tries to sit on a barstool and slips off of it. He falls to his knees, drops his head and throws up on the floor. "Fight you... I'll fight you." he gasps.

Alin deftly side steps the vomit There is truly nothing worse than orc vomit they think. They grimace painfully as a little bit spatters on their boots.
Alin moves to the bar and corners Sigmund and says aloud "I see you have your hands full, and they just got fuller, but I would like to talk to you about what you were serving us earlier. It doesn’t seem to have agreed with my stomach."
Simultaneously, Alin’s fingers tap and slide on the bar top. Alin is using basic thieves cant, not knowing the specific lingo of Stormreach as much as that of Sharn "What meaning [of] hidden [secret] message [note] [plural]"

"Mrak, yer too late. If you want to challenge Gunnar, ya better come next week.

"Here, this is on the house." Sigmund slides over a mug of something that smells god awful.

"Should help you sober up a little, if you want."