Easthaven

Maverick nods to Hrothgar and speaks back in the rumbling language of undercommon "impressive human, always a pleasure to meet someone who can speak my native tongue" Maverick then turns to console Ug who is now stitting on the floor and at eye level with the the svirfneblin who was still seated on the table

"They should be well enough off at Bryn Shander," Zenithral says to Hrothgar, returning to his seat. "It pains me to leave my post, but I'm expecting to meet someone here for important business. They didn't leave many details, but while I'm here, I would be honored to serve in whatever capacity I can."

"That's actually about all the Undercommon I learned," Hrothgar admits. "There wasn't a lot of time to chat with the svirfnebli in Blingdenstone. Gods above, I will never enter the Underdark again." He shudders, and then continues speaking with Zenithral. "We will certainly have need of your talents - in fact, we may need the help of everyone here; you all look like a capable band." He locks eyes with Alalla and adds with a lowered voice, "We'll need to have that chat about the trade routes. Later. No need to panic the good townsfolk here."

He stands, clapping Ug on one broad shoulder, and then says to the group, "If you're need of lodging, I would recommend talking to Quimby over at the Snowdrift Inn, over on the east side of town." He wraps his cloak around himself, preparing to go back out into the biting cold. "Once you've had a chance to rest up and get your bearings, come by and see me at my house. It's just a couple doors west of here." Hrothgar offers one last smile and leaves.

Father Tulfgyr Returns from the Loo murmuring about the cold but seems to be in a good mood when he reaches the table "whilst I was Draining the swamp I heard about a good place to sleep in town the driftsnow inn or something" Father Tulfgyr looks around confused "where did Hrothgar go?" Tulfgyr says but waves the question off before anyone can answer 'bah I need to stretch these legs and get some rest im sure he'll turn up again, shall we leave?"

"Ug go where good friends go!" Ug says rising from the ground. "But first," he says as he accepts a cloth from a still laughing Grisella, it fits more like a loin cloth than an apron, "Ug must cook!" He smiles gleefully and bounds after the barmaid into the kitchens, having to duck through the doorway to enter the back rooms and shaking the poor bar to the rafters with each happy step.

"How could I forget!" Tulfgyr says while he laughs seeing the Goliath squish through the door.

Ug applies his master chef and brewer skills throughout the night!

In a night that will forever be remembered in Easthaven, Ug the Goliath did his mother proud. The aromas carried throughout the town attracting rich and poor alike. Father Tulfgyrs toast to unity and peace was fulfilled as each culinary masterpiece was served. And by the time the last round of ale was finished there was not a gnome, elf, or man left standing. The aftermath was an entire town past out on benches, chairs, tabletops, privy and chandeliers.

With the amount gold that went through the tavern, Grisella graciously gave Ug and his friends extra provisions for their journies and reverently hung up Ug's apron in the tavern as a remembrance of the feast.

Ug also collected 100 gp in tips throughout the evening.

To anyone waking up under a tavern table (or hanging from a chandelier) you wake up to hear Grisella calling, "Here, Mr. Tibbles! Here's your favorite breakfast! ...where has that cat gone off to?"

Father Tulfgyr emerges from a secluded corner and says "My Child I will find your cat and bring it home safe for its favourite breakfast". Father Tulfgyr looks surprisingly good for being black out drunk the night before. Tulfgyr then sets out scouring the room and if necessary the outside town.

"Oh, thank you, Father. I haven't seen the dear since sometime last night... I can't really remember when. But he never goes outside into the cold - he doesn't like to get his paws cold."

Groans and curses follow Father Tulfgyr's every move across the common room as he looks around, and men and women who appeared dead moments ago begin their heavy climb back to consciousness.

One such man sits up with a particularly vitriolic presumption about the dwarf's mother and staggers to his feet. His attire must have been finely tailored at one point, but now is covered in dried ale and... who knows what else. "Shut up, you bearded barbarian!" he yells at Tulfgyr. "Quit your caterwauling to whatever god of torture you worship." He starts to stumble his way to the door, but is forced to lean against a table and rest his head in his hands.

Ug, still laying partly unconscious across the barkeep, somewhat overhears the man's rant and mumbles something about
"honoring mothers" he tries to get up but manages to roll off the bar instead luckily not landing on anyone, but still managing to break another chair in process.

Father Tulfgyr gentle makes his way to the man and places a hand on his shoulder "be at peace my child" Father Tulfgyr says in a soothing voice.

The door opens and Zenithral slips inside, a small rush of frigid air following in behind. He glances around distastefully at the sight of half the village, if not all of it, sprawled about. He sighs, knowing just how many curses he'd get if he tried to wade through the mess and order a meal. Opening the door, just then had already earned him a few. He slips back outside and decides to patrol the village until things recover.