Two Bridges Inn

[Roser]

Moments later the door opens and a bright while light shines through the creaky old inn. Eurahdaun walks in with a surprised look on his face once he sees Volak, the priest walks up slowly and sits next to his brother. Nodding for an ale from Jal.

"It's been a long one brother. I'm just as disappointed as you are.. I thought more would come after the letters we sent out...Guess it's on us now..."

Eurahdaun turns and stares unhappily at his mug, a blank look on his face.

[Redleafe]

Volak noticed his brother walk into the Inn, the aura that emitted its self from Eurahdaun was awing, even to Volak who often witnessed his brother's "Touch of Etoth".

As Eurahdaun made his way for his table, Volak faintly smiled. As Eurahdaun sat down beside his brother he ordered an ale.

"It's been a long one brother. I'm just as disappointed as you are.. I thought more would come after the letters we sent out...Guess it's on us now..."

Volak raised his mug an threw it back with a simple gulp, slamming his mug down on the table with loud thud.

THMMMP!

A few patrons looked over at the commotion, dismissing the rage of Volak for dwarven drinking.


"Yeah brother...well to hells wit' 'em. I found sum fellas who'll lend eh hand. Ruxton be 'da name. 'ave a meetin' wit 'em on 'da morrow, same spot we squatting now."

[Redleafe]

Volak sat patiently at the private table in the far back of the Two-Bridges Inn, he had been drinking ales for an hour now, still no show of his newly acquainted friend.

[DM Asylum]

By sunset, the usual drunks of the inn had fallen unconscious. It was bitter relief to the quieter patrons. Usually the soldiers did not fall into slumber until much later.

An hour had passed since Volak had entered the inn, waiting for his acquaintance, and a lesser dwarf might have called it a day by then. A rush of night air electrified the establishment, however, as an older man in leathers opened the door, and glanced about. His eyes settled on the Redleafe, and he made his way toward the table.

[Redleafe]

Volak took a hardy swig from his mug, setting the ale down on the table as the older gentleman dressed in leathers walked through the doorway of the inn. Volak smiled briefly, standing from his small stool to greet the man.

With a cheerful gruffness Volak called out to the stranger.

"Eh 'der Hartshorn, bin' a few days. glad wes could meet 'ere. Please 'ave a seat."

Volak extended his hand in greeting, calling over the barmaid in the moment as well.

[DM Asylum]

The older man takes a seat, a slight grin on his face. He removes his gloves and sets them at his side, and begins to speak. Before he can utter the first word, though, the barmaid makes her way to the table. She smiles slightly.

"Pleasure to see you again," she says to the dwarf, "What'll you have?"

Hartshorn glances at the barmaid with a smile, but also with a flicker of annoyance in his eye.

"Whatever's brewin' is good for me."

The barmaid glances at the man, also with a smile and a flicker of annoyance in her eye. They both turn to Volak.

[Redleafe]

Volak waved the barmaid off with a smile. His business with Hartshorn was of important matters, especially concerning the Two-Bridges region.


"Hartshorn, I know ye' been makin' a livin' 'bout 'dese parts trappin' but whatcha say ye' settle, make a home of 'dese area? I 'ave admired ye family 'fer whatcha mean te' the economy in da' region, I thinkin' wit' ye 'elp 'round 'ere we'd clean 'dis place up jus' fine. Watcha say Harshorn...set up shop 'ere, 'elp our clan restore 'da area eh?"

Volak looked at Hartshorn with a genuine disposition.

[Althalus]

Jal smiled as he looked over counter. "What can I help you with tonight, Dame?" His smile was genuine and he stopped drying a clay mug to regard her.

"Just a table, Jal, if it isn't too much trouble please." The figure smiled and looked about the Inn's common room, a wicker basket in her hands.

"For you, Dame, anything." He sent Melinda to clear a table for her, and whispered strict instructions that the Knight was not to be disturbed.

"Thank you Jal, dear" the lady smiled, giving him a one-armed hug as he escorted her to the table personally.

"If there is anything else you need, you have but to ask." With that, Jal went back to his drying and serving other patrons.

The woman hiked herself up onto the chair with less than ladylike movements, moved her patchwork dress about her knees, and plopped the basket on the table. She reached up and took from it two needles and three bolts of yarn, in brown, orange, and green. Soon her needles were weaving together in a mesmorizing dance as she contentedly hummed an old folk song, about crop yields and pig farming.