[IC] Chapter 1 - Concerning Orcs

The rest of the night passed qickly if not quietly as the Owlbear finished its meal and creeped off into the forest.

The wind picked up in the morning blowing in clouds to make an overcast morning. The prisoners are what little food they had left; and though some are hungry, the promise of returning to civilization was motivation enough.

Camp was broken down and the party started off with Dennan leading the way/scouting while the group was led by Veronica and Layla

By the time the sun dipped down, they spotted the town of Verge on the horizon. Sitting on the Foamfire River (a tributary to the Windrush), the small unwalled town was already starting to close up for the night.

The prisoners shuffled along to voices praising whatever god they saw fit toward the huts with chimneys merrily puffing smoke. The backdrop of the mountains gave the view a beautiful quality if you hadn’t been nearly killed by orcs.

The party approaches to the looks of some locals but no one asks about their proactively. Some seem to turn their eyes at the sight of the shabby crew.

Some of the prisoners know of an inn along the road that may have some space and a small brewery that doubles as a restaurant.

The inside of the bar Layla enters is weakly lit. Three round tables are scattered around in front of a fire burning low. At the bar, two men, already in their cups are whispering slurred words. Behind the bar a rod thin barkeeper with a crooked nose wipes a stringy straw colored lock of hair from his face.

The barkeeper looks up as the rest of the prisoners start to funnel in. The prisoners hastily start to fill tables looking hungrily toward the kitchen where the smell of an oily broth wafts in.

The barkeeper looks at the party and grimaces at the weapons. He slinks out from behind the bar and approaches Layla.

"Yes, um.. welcome to the Jug and Platter." He pauses for an awkward amount of time before continuing. "Mr. Alefast doesn’t usually like people to have weapons out, it can lead to some problems later in the night." He glances at the prisoners weapons as well as any the party has exposed.

From the kitchen you hear a clang of a pan and a curse in a halfling accent.

The front door opens about the same time admitting a pair of men, one in clothes finer than you have seen before in town and the other jingles with mail under his tunic. They meander over to the bar where two cups were already waiting.

The kitchen door opens and an older halfling waddles out carrying a stack of cups. "Gods, crowded already? And with guests from out of town! I am Jon, Jon Alefast." He slides the glasses onto the bar and wipes his hands.

"Dinner is…". He looks over the party "….four silvers a head. And where are you from? You all look like you have been worse for ware, did you come from Threshold?"

The awkward bardender retreats as the proprietor takes control. Cadigan slinks over to talk to the bartender in private.

Mr alefast lights up at hearing his native tongue before turning to the barkeeper and starting in common. "Yes! Rodger, this is what I was telling you. You humans don’t have real experience, staying inside your towers and walls. How are you supposed to see what you are made of unless you see the world and your place in it!! The Hin have figured it out, you should see the world!"

Responding to Dennan in halfling "I left the five shires ages ago, travelled far but finally settled here. Something about the mountains makes us all, man and hin, about the same size before them dont you think? That and". A broad toothy smile creeps on his face "I realized these folk wouldn’t know a good cup of ale if their head was shoved in the vat, opportunity, and the only way I could get something passable for myself."

He adds finally in a near whisper, solemnly in halfling "say no more of orcs." His eyes Flot between Veronica, Dennan and Layla.

His jovial smile returns as he pulls out a chair for Layla Continuing in common. "I am sure you have had hard travels and I know after a day of traveling in my day, a hearty meal is just the trick." He holds his hand out for the payment. With a wink "have to stay in business though as you say."

"Tell Sebastian at the Boars Head that Jon sent you he will set up with some rooms. Should have plenty open this time of year. No more trustworthy man than that Sebastian." He lets the final sentence hang in the air.

Layla, you notice when Veronica mentioned the orcs that the finely dressed man at the bar and the man in chain mail glanced in the parties direction out of the corner of their eye, the gaze lingered too long to just be interest in news. And did you see one flex his hand on his mug of ale too?