Disscusions had over suds and bubbles.

[gbbishop]

A portly man with a bushy beard wipes froth from his mustache. "This is gettin rough I sez to ya. Did ya here that Exarch rejected them Cleavers outright?"

He swigs again this time forgotten froth sprays from his lips as he gets louder.

"We Sestrans has always been done right by the Cleavers. They saved me farm when the dirty lizards came, now I can't even be working it. Every hand is put ta work fer them Red Cloaks diggin' and coughin' their lives away for barely enough ta keep frum wastin away! An here I wuz thinkin slaver was outlawed in these parts."

The portly man tucks away the rest of his tankard with in his ample gut.
Then slams it down and lurches to his feet, knocking over his stool he storms for the door.

"nuff ta make you sick." He mumbles as he exits. The small Sestran tavern.

[Doubtful]

A few in the tavern mutter as the portly man leaves.

"Sounds like he's had a few to many, got a reasonable amount of coin in my pocket thanks to those mines. Not the nicest work I'll admit, but pays better than farming."

"Aye, not surprised the Cleavers got told to leave off, it's them dwarves you see. They get jealous about anyone but a dwarf getting involved in mining. Hells, I get paid enough to keep my trousers full. Though less full than that gut bucket."

"Leave off the cleavers, they did a lot of good work Ted, they're a solid bunch."

"Who's that fat bugger think he is anyway? Waist line like that the chap must've shirked every workday he's had."

"Maybe it's glandular?"

"I ain't put to work in the mines!"

"That's coz you've got no legs Brian."

"Oh. Aye. That's it, pick on the disabled guy."

[gbbishop]

A dark skinned man in blood red robes stood where a closed door had moments ago crashed open. Lightning crashed behind him causing his silhouette to darken and the patrons of the small Sestran inn to cover their eyes or look away momentarily. When their gaze inevitably returned to the stranger there was no longer any doubt as to who or what this new arrival was. The top of his head was completely razed of any trace of hair and stokes and whirls of ink lay visible beneath his scalp. His face was contorted and disdain was plain on his face. He tossed his Oilcloth cloak to one of the patrons seated by the door and strode up to the Innkeeper fully expecting the patron to tend to the garment.

“You there! Your finest bottle of burgundy and should it not arrive in a timely fashion, you will know first hand what happens when you disrespect a Red Wizard.” His words delivered down his upturned nose and with and accent that might have been from the north.

The wizard then moved to the most secluded table he could find. A vexed noise erupted from his mouth as he spun and pointed at the closest staff member.

“You! You will have this table washed to my liking by the time I return from inspecting what ever it is you creatures try to pass off as a lodging in this backwate cesspool.”

He then he stormed up the stairs heading for the guestrooms with out so much as waiting for guidance.

He returned moments later, rage replaced disdain on his face. “I find this place to be FAR beneath acceptable. What does one expect when peasants are given leave to run a business!”

He stomped for the exit holding out his hand to the patron that he had handed the Oilcloth cloak to only minutes before. He throws open the door and as he sets his head against the blast of elements that swirl outside the little inn he firmly states.

“I will not be forced to sleep with slaves, no matter what the Enclave dictates!”

[TheBlankStare]

Dressed in what appear to be rather well kept peasant garb and sitting in a quiet corner of the inn, Rastellia smirks a bit as the Red Wizard departs.

"So you see, gentle people, the Red Wizards aren't to be feared overly much." She offhandedly brushes some empty peanut shells to the floor for a bit of subtle emphasis before she continues. "While it's not a good idea to punch one in the stomach it's nice to know that a little bit of grime sends one packing."

[gbbishop]

One warm and peaceful night a middle aged man sat alone at one of the smaller tables one of the smaller inns. He had yet to order a drink or food or even request lodging. The staff seemed to be getting impatient and it looked as though the Innkeeper might just toss him out on his ear.



The man merely sat and stared blankly out of slightly almond shaped eyes. If one were to look a little closer the pointed tips of ears were only just concealed by a mop of disheveled hair. If one knew of such things they would note some elven heritage in his features, though he seemed to be one of the half-castes that tried to pass for human.

The Innkeeper approached for what might very well be the last time, as he was about to ask after an order or perhaps tell the vagrant to be on his way. The elf-kin lifted his gaze along with a dusty leather pouch. He emptied the contents of the pouch on the table. A few coins tumbled out onto the surface.

“Keep ‘em comin’ ‘til tha’ run out eh, and don’t stinge, it be all they leff me.” He said with a flat look that brooked no doubt that the few coins on the table where indeed all that he had left.

The Elf-kin did just as he said, he drank until his coins ran out. Then with out a word walked out the door. Left there, along side his empty glass, the words freshly carved in the grain of the table.

“Vengeance will be mine Thayan pig!”

[Doubtful]

"I always thought that sleeping with the slaves was a fringe benefit of having them."

"Only if you've got pretty slaves."

"I ain't picky John, you knows that."

"Ted, you're a filthy man and you're going to hell."

"Right. Might bag myself a succubus then, heard them devil girls are quite hot."

"Freak."

"Mind you, wouldn't mind being able to walk into a room like that, quite the entrance, lightning and all"

"That's mages Ted, they aint like normal folks."

"Aye, normal folks don't wander around in dresses. Maybe they use magic to make up for it?"

"How'd you mean?"

"Well, like 'I may wear a billowing fuchsia skirt, but underneath this lacy underwear I'm all man'."

"You ain't right in the brain Ted."

[Jai_V]

Having taken down his customary fencer's tie-up, Cazen smiles beneath the stringy mess of hair that hangs over the unnecessary spectacles and cascades about his soot-smudged face. Turning back his mug, drinking the last drop of ale, he chuckles at the townies banter and orders another of the same.

"Truly tasteless." Whether he speaks softly of the ale or the humor is anyone's guess.

[Doubtful]

"Bollocks."

The bar manager sighed as he rubbed his hand over the graffiti etched into one of his tables.

"Bloody half-breed, I see his face again I'll kick his arse. Jim! Get over here and get this table out the back. Don't want any of the big wigs from the mine coming down here and getting all upset at this. I'd rather turn a profit than turn into a frog."

"Problems Dave?"

"Aye, some bloody alcoholic vagrant been wrecking the furniture, going to cost a few staggs to sort that out."

"Vagrant?"

"S'what I said wasn't it? Chap came in, spent every last coin he claimed to have on getting himself drunk then vandalised my bloody table! Typical bloody elf; no respect for other people. Trying to get me in trouble with my customers all because he's got some grudge. Well, he's bloody barred."

"What about that mad Red Wizard? He was a total arse, yelling the place up, calling us all filthy buggers."

"Aye, well. I've news on that as well. I wrote a stern letter to the mine foreman, and just today received a rather interesting reply."

"Interesting reply?"

"Indeed, it lays out their perspective on that fellows actions, and their view of Sestra! I was quite impressed. Had a lot to say about the future as well; they've got one of the best seer's in the lands apparently. You want me to read it out aloud?"

"Nah, hang onto it, I'll read it myself later."

"Righty ho. Now, let's get this table out of here."

[gbbishop]

A tired and dirty young man, in clothes dusty from working the mines, enters the tavern. It is far too early for it to be a shift change. The forlorn look on his face and the time of day point to a rather obvious conclusion, he no longer works in the mines.

"Heya, better make it broth an' bread. Gotta make me final pay last, ya know?" He sits down at the bar.

"Looks like things is good for you with all that Thayan gold flowin' in. I recon this be the last of it you'll see from this hand. Don't even know why they let me go. Makes me wonder what happens ta Sestra when they are done with her. Makes me sad ta think on it. Ah thanks for the soup, friend."

Dips his bread in the broth and digs in.

[Doubtful]

The barman raises an eyebrow at the dusty figure, before serving up a bowl of broth.

"Aye, can be hard when you leave a job. But plenty more jobs to be had lad, even if you ain't got the mind for mining. I hope you don't mind me asking son, but what's your name. You can't of been working there for long now, I ain't seen your face in here before. There's a hell of a lot of mountain to dig out before they run out of anything, from my understanding."

In one dingy corner of the inn a reasonably well dressed gentleman takes a swig of ale from his tankard, framing the miner briefly through the vessels glass bottom.

[gbbishop]

"They call me Erl." He says between sucking noises as he devours the broth.

"An' I wasn't there long only a few days. Guess I lacked what ever it is you need fer mining. Don't know what I'll do know though, aren't any farms hiring don't know a trade guess I'll just wander."

[Doubtful]

“I wouldn’t feel so bad lad, you look young.”

The barman puffs his chest out with some pride as he glances around the inn.

“Think I fell into this place my first time out? ‘Course not. Had a dozen or more careers before I settled on this one. I’ve been a stable hand, groom, apprentice wainwright, tanner, soldier, war hero, adventurer”

“Compulsive liar”

“I’ll ask you to stay out of this Brian. Where was I. Adventurer”

“Said that”

“Hush man. Whisky taster, cooper, glass collector and now barman. Been a long path, but it’s had some pleasant scenery along the way.”

“Apart from your wife.”

“Brian, don't make me wheel you outside. But now I’ve found my place, and I’ve got this bar, and this letter.”

The barman taps his pocket happily.

“Read it as soon as it was slipped under the door of my house, a wonderful thing to read. So don’t take it to hard if you ain’t found your place yet lad, plenty of more moonrises to come and go before you need to be worrying about being settled.”

With barworker wisdom dispensed the man strolls happily away to polish his tankards.

[gbbishop]

The lad looks up from his broth.

"A letter?" He looks sceptical but clearly interested. "Whats so special about that letter?"

[Doubtful]

“What’s so special about the letter?”

The barman puffs out his chest with overwhelming pride.

“Lad, how many letters you had in your life? One? Five? And how many of those have come from an embassy? A magical one at that? I’d wager none of them. I’d say that makes this letter pretty special, don’t you agree?”

“No. Could be contaminated by all that magical stuff the Thayans have. Or it might be a demon, or cleverly disguised human skin. Or it might whisper in your ear at night and make you eat other peoples babies. It was an evil mage what took my legs.”

“Shut up Brian, it was a goods wagon that took your legs.”

“Driven by an evil mage.”

“Driven by Erthwip Stubbard, the bakers lad. As it always is.”

“Possessed by an evil mage.”

“Possibly possessed by strong spirits, now shut it.”

The barman fiddles around inside his apron for a moment, digging out the letter from some obscured recess.

“Now, listen hear lad, you’ll know how special this is when you hear it. Dear Sir, that’s me, hmm, some stuff…. Mm.. Ah! May I first offer my sincerest gratitude for contacting myself and the enclave on this matter. See, happy that we’re writing to them. Nmm.. serious matter, endeavour to… Ah. This is the good stuff.”

The barman adjusts his stance and reads the next section in what is safe to assume is his take on an authoritative tone.

“Having visited your tavern on several occasions my staff have vouched for the appeal of the establishment. It is hard to imagine an establishment better suited to the needs of the Sestran people and we understand the important social services that your Inn provides as a cornerstone of the local community.”

The barman smiles and folds the letter away again, slipping it back into the folds of his apron.

“See, cornerstone of the community. Can’t argue with a sentiment like that”

[gbbishop]

The young man's lips purse and he pulls at his chin with a ridiculous gesture, as if he were wearing a beard. After a short time to consider the barman's words he speaks softly.

"It merely states that your inn fills a necessary role," stabs a finger into the top of the bar.

"There is nothing to say you," points his finger at the barman, "are a necessary part of it. Is there?"

"One slip is all it takes, one slip and they, points casually back toward the shady corner, "will send you packing."

With that he lays down enough to settle his bill. Gets to his feet and heads for the door.

"If you wish to live in ignorance I wish you luck. I am going to face reality. Good day."