Disclaimer: Ok I don't own the Forgotten Realms or any other recognizable
characters. The rest of these guys are mine or friends'. Its not long,
but it's longer than the first chapter. So review let me know what you
think.-Kurai
Somewhere in the Realms in a small tavern/ inn called the Weasel Inn sat one of the most mismatched group of adventurers Jevic had ever seen. Jevic was the owner and proprietor of the only inn for a good four days march in any direction. The Weasel in was his pride and joy. Jevic looked up into the heavens, or in this case the rafters, and asked the gods why. Why did they keep coming back to his inn. He knew they had to travel more than four days away on most trips. There were no dragons to slay, no huge orc encampments or evil wizards doing whatever it was they did in the vicinity. Receiving no answer, he went back to cleaning glasses.
They were sitting in the center of the common room, a tall half-orc in robes too small for his huge frame, a female half-orc barbarian, an elf who appeared to be the most reasonable of the group (but appearance can be deceiving), a gnome tinkering with some tiny metallic humanoid thing and a female drow. Jevic noted that some of the part was missing and secretly prayed for them never to return to his inn. It really wouldn't be so bad if they'd paid for even half of the drinks they consumed. At least they paid for the rooms.
"Makador, God of all things gold and frothy, please grace us with your most holy of brew," prayed the male half-orc. Within seconds glowing mugs full of ale appeared on the table in front of each of the party.
"Wonder where the old guy who mysteriously and conveniently appears with some old map and needs adventurers is," said the drow as she glanced toward the door. The other just looked at her confused. "Forget it." She chugged her ale and slammed the empty mug on the table.
Jevic grumbled, noticing the mugs he'd just cleaned were gone.
The others at the table followed suit, each slamming down an empty mug. "MORE!" Yelled the female half-orc, "Swifty, we need more." She pouted up at the other half-orc. The drow turned away from the couple and fidgeted with the hem if her black cloak. This was too much to deal with sober. Half-orcs making kissy faces at each other was too much to deal with even drunk and after one ale the sorceress was far from drunk. The gnome sat his little metallic thing on the floor, it jumped up, yelled "Aailk!!!" and charged into the closed door. It continued to run into the closed door until the gnome ordered it back to his side.
"So, Um, Gos, you ever going to teach that thing anything useful? Maybe like getting us more beer, or better yet, getting us more money to we can buy more beer?" asked the drow, turning to the tiny gnome across from her. Gos, or Gosran to anyone else, shot her a look that would have been menacing on the face of anything other than a gnome and picked up Aailk.
"I'm getting bored," groaned the sorceress as she leaned back in he chair.
Jevic turned ghostly pale. Sober, bored dark elf sorceress... Bad..
"Aren't we missing people?" asked the surface elf. The rest of the group all looked at each other. The half-orcs counting on there fingers.
"Yeah," said the female half-orc after a bit. "We got Swyftmind, me, Gosran, Aailk, Dante," she pointed to the surface elf, "and Ily," she pointed to the dark elf.
"Anybody seen Fishy or his brother?" ask Gosran.
"Saw them two days ago. Fishy said something about going and doing ranger stuff. His brother was going with him. What about Flaglar?" Ilystial , the sorceress, answered. The rest shook their heads in answer.
Jevic again pray to whatever god would listen.
"Technically speaking, only Flaglar is really one of us," Dante picked up is bow . This drew looks of confusion from the others. "The ranger doesn't follow Makador and his brother..What is he again? A dark Quaterling, he follows some evil god. Ikiban-whatever, doesn't even drink!" The elf plucked at his bow like a mandolin and the others glared at him. He wasn't sure if it was his playing or what he'd said.
Jevic watched as the dark elf pointed a finger at the offending surface elf. He winced and silently prayed that the drow would killed the bow-playing high elf. The others at the table just sat back and watched. No one dived for cover or seemed even the slightest bit concerned. Jevic then realized it was a magic missile she was casting and all hope for the elf's demise faded. Tiny sparks shot from her finger tips but nothing more.
"DAMMIT!!!!" She yelled. "Dad, I hate you. You bastard.." she grumbled under her breath.
The other just laughed.
Makador sat back in his chair, watching the antics of his little group of followers. Something had to be done. They were far too sober. They didn't need to be sober. If they stayed sober then they might realized he little power he really possessed and find new deities. He gasps, the drow, Ilystial, may go back to Lloth or whoever she followed before him, if she found that out. The drow, although cursed and most likely insane, was not as dense as the rest. Watching them as they called for more "holy brew", he realized he had nothing to worry about. As mismatched as they were, he liked his little group. They weren't the smartest or strongest and they were frivolous and very easily distracted, but they were loyal. Kinda..Sorta.. All it took to gain their devotion was the promise of free beer, If only it was always this easy. He grinned to himself and rubbed his hands together. Time to get to work. His little miscreants had been sitting in that inn for nearly three days without seeking his greater glory. Something had to be done about this.
Somewhere in the Realms in a small tavern/ inn called the Weasel Inn sat one of the most mismatched group of adventurers Jevic had ever seen. Jevic was the owner and proprietor of the only inn for a good four days march in any direction. The Weasel in was his pride and joy. Jevic looked up into the heavens, or in this case the rafters, and asked the gods why. Why did they keep coming back to his inn. He knew they had to travel more than four days away on most trips. There were no dragons to slay, no huge orc encampments or evil wizards doing whatever it was they did in the vicinity. Receiving no answer, he went back to cleaning glasses.
They were sitting in the center of the common room, a tall half-orc in robes too small for his huge frame, a female half-orc barbarian, an elf who appeared to be the most reasonable of the group (but appearance can be deceiving), a gnome tinkering with some tiny metallic humanoid thing and a female drow. Jevic noted that some of the part was missing and secretly prayed for them never to return to his inn. It really wouldn't be so bad if they'd paid for even half of the drinks they consumed. At least they paid for the rooms.
"Makador, God of all things gold and frothy, please grace us with your most holy of brew," prayed the male half-orc. Within seconds glowing mugs full of ale appeared on the table in front of each of the party.
"Wonder where the old guy who mysteriously and conveniently appears with some old map and needs adventurers is," said the drow as she glanced toward the door. The other just looked at her confused. "Forget it." She chugged her ale and slammed the empty mug on the table.
Jevic grumbled, noticing the mugs he'd just cleaned were gone.
The others at the table followed suit, each slamming down an empty mug. "MORE!" Yelled the female half-orc, "Swifty, we need more." She pouted up at the other half-orc. The drow turned away from the couple and fidgeted with the hem if her black cloak. This was too much to deal with sober. Half-orcs making kissy faces at each other was too much to deal with even drunk and after one ale the sorceress was far from drunk. The gnome sat his little metallic thing on the floor, it jumped up, yelled "Aailk!!!" and charged into the closed door. It continued to run into the closed door until the gnome ordered it back to his side.
"So, Um, Gos, you ever going to teach that thing anything useful? Maybe like getting us more beer, or better yet, getting us more money to we can buy more beer?" asked the drow, turning to the tiny gnome across from her. Gos, or Gosran to anyone else, shot her a look that would have been menacing on the face of anything other than a gnome and picked up Aailk.
"I'm getting bored," groaned the sorceress as she leaned back in he chair.
Jevic turned ghostly pale. Sober, bored dark elf sorceress... Bad..
"Aren't we missing people?" asked the surface elf. The rest of the group all looked at each other. The half-orcs counting on there fingers.
"Yeah," said the female half-orc after a bit. "We got Swyftmind, me, Gosran, Aailk, Dante," she pointed to the surface elf, "and Ily," she pointed to the dark elf.
"Anybody seen Fishy or his brother?" ask Gosran.
"Saw them two days ago. Fishy said something about going and doing ranger stuff. His brother was going with him. What about Flaglar?" Ilystial , the sorceress, answered. The rest shook their heads in answer.
Jevic again pray to whatever god would listen.
"Technically speaking, only Flaglar is really one of us," Dante picked up is bow . This drew looks of confusion from the others. "The ranger doesn't follow Makador and his brother..What is he again? A dark Quaterling, he follows some evil god. Ikiban-whatever, doesn't even drink!" The elf plucked at his bow like a mandolin and the others glared at him. He wasn't sure if it was his playing or what he'd said.
Jevic watched as the dark elf pointed a finger at the offending surface elf. He winced and silently prayed that the drow would killed the bow-playing high elf. The others at the table just sat back and watched. No one dived for cover or seemed even the slightest bit concerned. Jevic then realized it was a magic missile she was casting and all hope for the elf's demise faded. Tiny sparks shot from her finger tips but nothing more.
"DAMMIT!!!!" She yelled. "Dad, I hate you. You bastard.." she grumbled under her breath.
The other just laughed.
Makador sat back in his chair, watching the antics of his little group of followers. Something had to be done. They were far too sober. They didn't need to be sober. If they stayed sober then they might realized he little power he really possessed and find new deities. He gasps, the drow, Ilystial, may go back to Lloth or whoever she followed before him, if she found that out. The drow, although cursed and most likely insane, was not as dense as the rest. Watching them as they called for more "holy brew", he realized he had nothing to worry about. As mismatched as they were, he liked his little group. They weren't the smartest or strongest and they were frivolous and very easily distracted, but they were loyal. Kinda..Sorta.. All it took to gain their devotion was the promise of free beer, If only it was always this easy. He grinned to himself and rubbed his hands together. Time to get to work. His little miscreants had been sitting in that inn for nearly three days without seeking his greater glory. Something had to be done about this.