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Skip Lipman
Aug 28, 2019
In Roleplaying
*Note this is a place for in character (IC) role play and discussion. All events described below take place in game, between events. Please pull up a chair and enjoy some mead next to the fire, thank you* + Settled comfortably along the road between Cailenstadt and Trinity Lakes, the Mountain Run Tavern has long provided a refuge for adventurers, bards, tradesmen and common folk alike. The family of the hospitable barkeep turned king, Foster, built the tavern up from nothing and has made it a place of respite in these dangerous lands for all. A fair price brings a warm bed and a hearty meal. The hearth is fired year round; those who draw near to enjoy some wine, mead, cider, or a smoke can always hear a song, share a tale… or find adventure. + -— —-— -—-- The midday sun was shining through the shutters when K strode through the doors of the Tavern. While few patrons took note of the arrival, Foster came around the bar to take the offered hand. "Ah you’re back” “Yes, and no more wiser for the journey, and I think I am developing a cough” lamented K, as he coughed into his sleeve. Everyone looked up at him. “Whaat?” he whined adjusting his pointed red hat, the afternoon light streaming into the tavern fell on the K's dusty burgundy robes, glinted on his many fetishes, and highlighted his wizardly accoutremon. K hobbled over to a chair by the fire, taking out his pipe. "What news of late?" He threw the question over his shoulder at the barkeep. "A group of Wardens passed this way yesterday," said Foster. "They drove off a band of orcs that troubled the villagers in foothills, but it seems they've been dealt with." K looked up at the mention of orcs. Foster noticed that K’s right hand dropped unconsciously for his sword grip and then he fidgeted nervously. Remembering that he had taken it off and left it outside with his pack, K smothered another cough, his throat dry from the road, and leaned back in the chair as Foster anticipated his need poured him some mead. "You are on your way from the south, then?" asked Foster. K nodded. "Aye. There is growing unrest in the southland and I fear that even now the plagues are spread north. We’ll be inundated with cases here by harvest if my calculations are correct. Nothing seems to stop it except that amulet Brennen Farno has, but he is only one man.” he added as he drained the cup of mead. Foster refilled the cup, smiling. "Oh, that doesn’t sound promising. Maybe if you hadn’t opened that portal to the abyss and let in those demons..." K simply nodded, looking into the fire. "Yes, my liege," he said - seemingly half to himself, as Foster returned to the bar. "I'm sure we’ll sort it out." K drew on his pipe and gazed into the fire, lost in thought, and wasn’t so sure.
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Skip Lipman

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