Waysoftheearth's Hinterlands PBP
Moderators: ehiker133, waysoftheearth
Olaf wants an ale and to ask Dans what the news is.waysoftheearth wrote:The Jolly Noose
(Deiter and Olaf)
Moving through the market, the pair notice a lot of people complaining about rising prices, tightening belts, and unavailability of desired commodities...
When they step into the Jolly Noose, they immediately notice the place is virtually empty. Dans the thick-limbed, bald-headed barkeep broods over his bar idly, with a washcloth thrown over his shoulder. There are a couple of tables occupied by pairs of merchants who mutter amongst themselves in dire tones.
Apparently, business isn't going too well...
What now?
Gustave's fine brow stumbles, then recovers, at this insult, from a mere merchant who can barely speak.waysoftheearth wrote:
When Gustave is done, the harried fellow's eye lids and upper lip tick almost violently in frustration. "Does it looks likes I has the abundance of spring on mine shelves?" he asks, with a pronounced northern accent. "I mights has halved of zot you ask..." he tisks and scowls and bundles up the dregs of his stores in an attempt to fulfill Gustave's enormous request. "If you hasss thaz count in silver."
Gustave is reminded why he never married.doctorx wrote: "Please don't forget the mule-feed," she adds to Gustave.
eris wrote:Olaf wants an ale and to ask Dans what the news is.waysoftheearth wrote:The Jolly Noose
(Deiter and Olaf)
Moving through the market, the pair notice a lot of people complaining about rising prices, tightening belts, and unavailability of desired commodities...
When they step into the Jolly Noose, they immediately notice the place is virtually empty. Dans the thick-limbed, bald-headed barkeep broods over his bar idly, with a washcloth thrown over his shoulder. There are a couple of tables occupied by pairs of merchants who mutter amongst themselves in dire tones.
Apparently, business isn't going too well...
What now?
"Dans, give me an ale." Olaf says walking to the bar commenting as he waits for the barkeep to draw his drink, "Business seems slow in here. What's going on?"
"Ha!" Olaf says and with a grin slaps another two silvers on the bar, and looks over at the two merchants talking quietly at the table, "Gentlemen merchants! We're in a generous mood today, it seems. Come! Let us buy you a pint of this good man's ale."coffee wrote:eris wrote: Olaf wants an ale and to ask Dans what the news is.
"Dans, give me an ale." Olaf says walking to the bar commenting as he waits for the barkeep to draw his drink, "Business seems slow in here. What's going on?"
Dieter slaps silver on the bar.
"Make it three," he says, shoving the coins across. "You'll join us, I hope?" He looks him in the eye, with one eyebrow raised.
"Some did, some didn't." Olaf says, "I'll tell you we lost some good men and women fighting bandits out there, Dans."waysoftheearth wrote:The Jolly Noose
(Dieter and Olaf)
Dans squints a moment as the two burly warrior-types slap down their silver on his bar.
"You two again?" he says, recognition dawning on him only slowly. "Earned yourselves something of a reputation these past few weeks, is what I hear."
He starts pulling out tankards and opening his taps.
"Short a few friends though, I can't help but see," he raises an eyebrow, "I hope the rest of them over-enthusiastic sorts didn't come to no good?"
"Thanks." Olaf takes a sip, "Ah! Tastes good."When the first two tankards are brimming with frothing ale he pushes them toward Dieter and Olaf, and begins pulling another pair for the merchants, who cautiously remain at their table but are certainly listening to the conversation and keeping an eye on the drinks that might grace their lips.
"Yeah." Olaf agrees nodding, "Something ought to be done about it, too. About the bandits and brigands, I mean. A town's life blood is trade and if the caravans aren't getting in, or out, that'll strangle the life right out of Ket.""Business is short, that's for sure," explains Hans. "The hinterlands passes seem overrun with brigands and raiders so an honest man can't get a caravan safely to Ket. Not without using the high road and paying off the sentries at their stockades, leastwise. And they're taking more than a business man can reasonably pay."
"Thrice what's fair," interjects one of the merchants, sourly.
"Four times, I say." corrects the other with a scowl.
"Not that it seems to have affected the Snorks any," scowls Dans, indicating the competition with a angle of his head as he pushes the fresh tankards across the bar.
Dieter and Olaf look in the direction of his shrug, out the open front window and across the market square to the Execution's Axe.
The tavern on the opposite side of the market is a thriving racket, packed to the rafters with plump, well dressed Snork merchants smoking fat cigars, drinking hug jugs of ale, laughing, carousing and fawning at the grotesquely under-dressed and over-fed Goblin girls dancing on their tables and leaping about, all but teasing the patrons.
"It's a disgrace," mutters the first merchant, shaking his head...