JiggaJay's Alehouse

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The normally cheery barkeep was thoroughly astonished at the lack of cheer in his tavern. He tried to be polite, get to know people, but was only met with disdain. He also began to wonder why everyone was so dark and mysterious
He guessed that newcomers always were met with this kind of welcome, so poured another drink and decided to bear with it.

 

Berg suddenly woke up, feeling full of energy and zest. "What are we sitting around mopeing for? We're alive, while we should be dead! Let's celebrate!" He filled up his mug again and drank it down. He picked Daren up and put him on the table, then got up on the table himself, took the halfling's hand and started singing and dancing a thundering two-step.

"Beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, wonderful beer, marvelous beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,

beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, heaven-sent beer,
drink of the gods,
water of life,
supreme beverage,

beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer ..."

At this point, Berg fell off the table onto a chair, totally smashing it to bits.

He got up again, "Uh, there's another verse, but I can't remember the words right now."

Seeing Bjorn trying not to laugh in the chair next to him, Berg grabbed his hands and pulled him up, starting into the song again.

"Beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,
beer, wonderful beer, marvelous beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer,"

Suddenly he sat down in an unbroken chair.
"All that singing makes a dwarf thirsty!" He only filled his mug up halfway before the keg was out. "Barkeep, we need another keg! And some hot meat and bread! And a cake! And a pudding! How can we have a party without a cake and a pudding?"

If any of the other tavern guests thought that Berg was acting a tad strange, he certainly didn't notice it.

 

Daren thoroughly enjoyed himself as he danced with Berg. It reminded of the times he had spent in the Frilly Frog, the only tavern in his home town of Gullykin.

He took a piece of the warm bread that the barkeep had brought to them and chowed down on it, suddenly ravenous.

 

Bjorn sat down laughing, bit into the food and sat back and sighed. He looked around the tavern at the others.

"Don't mind us. We three just came from a bad scene. Big fight and we lost. Many comrads are dead and a town is in ruin. Takes time to get past something like that."

Turning to the barkeep. "You have experience adventuring? If not think carefully. Death is always with you. But enough of that. Where's that beer? Beer, food and forgetfulness. No, not forgetfulness just a blurring of the heart pain."

 

Kazdul gingerly fingered his daggers, staring at the ceiling and remembering adventures of yore..
"Oh yeah, i know a thing or two about adventuring!! This place is just a ruse to get invited into one! I have done everything, from the grand theft of greedy nobles to being part of a band of chivalrous thieves, hell, i've even been an actor for a while!! I am no bard, but boy do I love plays!"
Straightening his crossbow on it's holster and running a hand eagerly over his darts (which could be thrown AND shot) he dreamed of the next adventure yet to come, whether big or small, involving merely the simple theft of a house or the fate of the realms.

 

The door opened and a tall, cloaked man entered, carrying a large bag of what seemed to be herbs. His appearance hinted that he was a Druid. He sat at a table, and order a keg of whisky, handing a pouch of gold to the barkeep. The unmistakable smell of Blackweed filled the room, hinting that the herbs were not for a curative, but lethal means, and that he was no Druid. He pulled back his hood to reveal a pale face veiled by long, black hair. He then began to scribble notes into a small leather-bound book.

 

After finishing the meat, the bread, the cake, and the pudding, and five more mugs of beer with his friends, Berg pushed back from the table, let out a loud belch, and lit his pipe. He looked around at the other people in the room, seeming to notice them for the first time.

Bringing his gaze back to his two comrades he said, "Thank you boys, that was as much fun as I'd had in a century or so. Should do something like that more often." To the barkeep he said, "Now, there'll be some people clamoring to retake Brynne Shander and the Dales for civilization and such, but don't expect to recruit me for that army. What I would like to know, is who was behind all of those goblins. Somebody with more brains than a bugbear, that's for sure. There was that doppelganger I found impostering as the commander, but there at the end, we had a pretty good plan. We should have been able to win at least another battle, but all of a sudden, everything went to hell and gone. Like they knew exactly what we were going to do, and even though some of the unit commanders, like Bjorn here, executed sound tactics, those goblins were lead with elan and insight. It was most unusual. I wouldn't mind trying to find out who was behind it all and putting a powderkeg in their outhouse."

He puffed some more on his pipe, then licked some pudding that had somehow gotten onto his sleeve.

 

"And to think, I had all of those scouts ready for battle and spying, and they all scattered at the first sign of danger!" He leaned back on his chair, puffing his pipe, trying to look casual, but after a few seconds of teetering on the legs of the chair, they snapped and he fell right on his back.

Most in the tavern laughed, but Berg gave them a nasty look and they were quiet as he helped Daren up. "Thanks, Berg," he said, embarrassed.

 

That's very sad to hear indeed. Maybe if you had different scouts *looks at self* things would have turned out differently.
Oh yeah, if you guys want to stop by the arena it would be greatly appreciated.

 

"Maybe so, maybe so." Berg said, and puffed his pipe some more. Then he smoked another pipe, had a few more beers, and sat around in contented silence with his comrades. Belly full, no apparent danger of imminent death, life was okay.


Had he drifted off to sleep for awhile? His pipe was out. His head was clear of beer. Bjorn and Daren were still sitting contentedly in their chairs, but a hooded stranger was over at the arena entrance, muttering something vaguely arrogant about masters.

Hmmn? Maybe a good workout would do him some good, maybe work off a little of that cake and pudding. Pushing back from the table he said to his friends, "I'll be back in a little bit, I hope. Feel free to bet on me, if you like."

 

Bjorn watched Berg go over to the arena. He wouldn't mind a bit of practice fighting himself but wasn't interested in fighting for the fun of it.

"Daren, tell me how you got mixed up in that fiasco we managed to survive."

 

"Well, that is a story that I intend to write when I get home. But, I will give you a preview, if you wish. Heres how it starts: I left home when Garen, my older, powerful adventurer-brother left home with his party..." Daren rambled on for a good half hour about his brother, being sad about leaving, going into Bryn Shander, and different smells, foods, and bath oils (his favorite) that he found on his way there.

"... and then Berg here gave me this crew to train as scouts! I armored them, and gave them some of my insightful wisdom. We set out to go scout, but first, I decided to go see how Berg was doing with that there trap he made. We waited for him to come out, silly thing to do, for there were goblins climbing the wall as we stood there!" Daren's little tale had drawn a small crowd of travellers and commoners, and he was enjoying the attention.

"Berg stumbled out of the hole, and a goblin's arrow landed beside me! My scouts scattered, and I looked around frantac..er..fracnticaticaticaly.."he paused, "and I had lost Berg! I jumped into the shadows and scanned for him. I saw him walking away from the town and I jumped at the chance! I came up after him, afraid he would lop my head off if I scared him, and tapped his shoulder. He, of course, being as stubborn as a dwarf is, told me to, and I quote, 'bugger off!', but I was persistent."

"I followed him for days, until finally we reached this tavern. I ran in after him, as most of you saw, and he finally accepted to be my travelling partner!" He ended the story in a bow, followed by a round of applause from the small group. The group soon dissipated, and he let out his gut, which had slowly been drawn in as the crowd had grown larger.

"Well, Bjorn, care to tell me how you got out?"

 

A small rodent, grey and fluffy, ran across the bar of the Ale house. The drunken fools at the bar saw it not, and those who were sober enough to realise what it was were too late to capture the grey rat. instead, they simply watched it run from one side of the room to the other, looking for a meal.

 

"Mine was very simple. I got buried under a pile of corpses. I managed to work my way out of the pile only to see the town up in flames. I wandered around for a few days until I stumbled on this place. First time I've been on the loosing side but it was bound to happen some day."

Bjorn casually watched the antics of the rat and a few patrons trying to catch it.

 

"Hrm, a rat eh? Not very good for sanitation. Maybe a magic missile or two will handle it..."

Saying this Kazdul reached into his belt for a wand... But stopped short.

"eh, it has every right to live as we do, and it hasn't harmed anything. I want the rat out--BUT ALIVE.

 

Jex had listened to the stories the others had told. Walking to the arena he found Berg. "Excuse me good dwarf, what town were you in that was overrun."

 

"Brynne Shander, up in the Dales. It's a good bet that all the ten towns will be stripped to the bones of anything valuable. Most of the defenses had gathered there." Berg looked the half-drow over. He didn't hold much for elves, but drow were different, not as likely to get all huffed up about cutting down a few hundred trees or so to make siege engines. "Ever been there?"

 

"Once, a few years ago. I made some good friends there. A dwarf named Johen Stonesmasher. Do you perhaps know of what happened to the citizens. I suddenly feel the urge to go and cut a few orcs throats." Jex said with a flash of anger cutting through his red eyes. "If your thinking about getting a group together and going back to Brynne Shander and spilling a bit of blood. Just come get me."

With that Jex, turned back to the bar, and got himself another pint of Golden Sands. His hands were shaking at the thought that anything bad might've happened to Johen. He had helped Jex after his mothers death.

 

"So, how's it going people?
Not to be a jerk, but Arena activity is pretty low. Doesn't anyone want to participate?"

 

Bjorn watched the others and the antics of the mouse creature. He heard what the half-drow said to Berg. He leaned back wondering how many had survived. He felt sad but knew that getting drunk wasn't the answer. Life was full of death.