Snake's Demise.

Daglin scratches his head at the halfling answer. A war between his people and the elves would certainly not be good news, especially for business. "Where do you think I could know more? The tavern?" He asks and answers himself at the same time.

Still puzzled, but determined to find answers, Daglin packs up his gear and puts it on his mule, then heads to the tavern.

"Hey there!" hails Daglin, maybe a little roughly. "I have a few questions, if you don't mind me asking. Would you know about the whereabouts of elves in the region, by any chance?"

Peli skids to an abrupt stop as she is hailed by a dwarf approaching the tavern, her thoughts of buying herbs and spices rapidly refocusing on a new potential companion - because who else would be calling after her if not someone she could recruit for her plans of ruin exploration and breakfasting out in nature? Her eyes light up with delight as the halfling dashes up to Daglin and enthusiastically offers him her hand; her terrier Bean runs after her and sniffs suspiciously at the dwarf's mule.

"I don't mind at all, ask away! Not that I know anything about elves, as I practically just arrived the day before yesterday, but I'm sure I can find out something? Oh, oh, you know, there is an elf in this right here tavern right now! Well, maybe not right now, I think they were planning to go to sleep, but listen, they are coming with me to investigate that weird local ruin with a sleeping curse tomorrow, so you can join us and ask him about the elf things!" She manages to say all of that in one breath; it is genuinely impressive. "Also, I'm Peli!"

She pauses and taps her chin with her finger thoughtfully, then points towards somewhere behind Danglin's back. "I don't have another map, but I'm camping behind over there, near a vegetable garden! Come visit me at dawn and you should run into the elf too. I'll make you a pie!" She claps her hands in delight, clearly already planning a feast for folk she barely knows; halfling hospitality is a force of nature.

Daglin scratches his head, not sure what to make of what he just heard. "Well, if there is an elf inside, I guess I'd better ask him directly?" he answers, puzzled, before entering the inn.

Artur supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that his family would kick him out of the house on the day he came of age.

House Yorgish was a storied and ancient noble house, so it stood to reason that its patriarch, Franschish Third of his Name, would be especially concerned with maintaining the honor and prestige of his family. Unfortunately, his son Artur’s concern for the common folk of their domain combined with his stubbornness threatened their house’s standing. After all, when fellow nobility came to visit, they should be treated with respect no matter what. And Artur always had an issue with that when they acted in a manner that he felt was unjust.

That was the explanation given along with the notice that he would be disinherited to Artur on his 18th birthday. Artur remembered it well, but not as well the moment that had preceded that warning. Artur was going to the privy when he heard muffled sobs coming from one of the manor’s spare bedrooms. Opening the door to investigate, he had seen the head of a visiting Elven noble house violating one of the serving girls. Enraged, he had savagely beaten the Elf and had to be restrained from doing any further harm to him.

Thus, after 6 months of wandering nowhere in particular, Artur found himself in Alhereth. He was finally starting to run low on food and so figured now would be the time for him to find work. He approached the tavern, figuring that it would be as good a place as any to find work.

"What's this nonesense about adventuring?" thinks Daglin to himself. "Are all these people mad or what?"

"Hum!" answers the dwarf to the man in arms he doesn't know at all. "Well, I was going into the tavern anyway. It's as good a way as another to find company..." Then he enters at a resolute pace.

Peli's attention shifts to the human. "Hello-hello! And yes, I am looking for folks willing to join my expedition!" She happily offers him a handshake, stretching her arm to be able to reach his level. The man is almost thrice her height; which is certainly an indication of good halfling-throwing potential. "There is a mysterious ruin nearby, apparently causing disappearances and the like! A creepy sleeping spell, aggressive animals! I was planning to go there and see what fascinating things hide inside, but I can't climb very well so I needed some company. I already recruited a duo of an elf and a man - great singing voices, these two, - and this here dwarf, but the more the merrier!"

She takes a deep breath, clearly planning to continue her five-words-a-second monologue, but suddenly stops, her eyes lighting up. "Wait, I need to buy more supplies for pies! And cookies! If there are going to be five of us, we can't possibly only have a simple breakfast! Right, Bean?" The halfling directs last question towards a tiny dog at her heel. The dog barks in agreement. "Right! I need to go shopping before the night comes.... Hey, wanna come with?" She looks up at Artur. "Also, my name's Peli!"

Inside the tavern, Daglin can find an elf sitting at a table alongside a particularly large (in both height and width) human. The latter seems to be well into his spirits.

Daglin approaches the elf, at a resolute pace, and starts talking to him straight up: "Hi there, I'm Daglin, blacksmith from the nearby mountains. I have heard alarming rumors concerning dealings between elves and dwarves in the region. Would you know anything about that by any chance?"

"Anything? Mayhap you might be more specific..Dag, Lin. I could say, that in fact I'm dealing with a dwarf now. I am listening to you as I finish this pint...hehe...ahem,...yes."

"Don't mind him, hic, these bloody ears don't hold their liquor like you or I. Mama always said I had a little dwarf in me... Now it looks like there's a little dwarf in me! Hahahaha!" Baelrick, being entirely unhelpful, erupts in magnificent laughter at his own joke. The halfling beside him, however, seems to be trying to sleep at the table.

Daglin narrows his eyes when hearing the elf's answer, then raises an eyebrow at the sudden laughter from his companion. Not sure how to take it all, he decides to be more specific: "I heard elves are going to war! Or at least threaten to do so. Have you heard of it?"

"War say you? No, I haven't heard anything of the sort. And, as a sign of good faith, let me buy you a pint sir, have a seat with us. We were merely trading limericks my good dwarf."

Almost surprised by the offer, Daglin accepts eagerly. "Well, that's a relief. At least some of your kin know how to handle things. Besides, it's probably a bit too late to go back home now..." he answers. "Still, you would very much like to know what is behind those gossips..."