Campaign 15: First Frolic Scenario 00: First Frolic Dawning Episode 04: In the Tavern
	Date: 12562-02-10, Time: 1030 Location: Desert Port, Lewawan, The Gorvij Lands Default Language: Gorvij

Player Characters Present

Character	Player	Sex	Species/Race	Description
Alijar Ilarik	Weston	M	Hyuumin/Waujak	Thief
Arberiks Kroonit	Christine	F	Hyuumin/Gorvij	Sharpster
Bernee Spam	Kevin	M	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Thaumaturge
"Cat"	Melissa	F	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Fighter
Kootayu Ranshee	Wood	M	Hyuumin/Nildrer	Thaumaturge
Laeris Seelfaroo	Don	M	Hyuumin/Relt	Sharpster
Liraan	Corinna	F	Fl;ajessav/Challit	Scrapper
Markuutril	Cassidy	M	Hyuumin/Gorvij	Hieruirge
Niijel Buzelstumper	Bob	M	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Sharpster
Waun Chuu	Brad	M	Hyuumin/Nildrer	Thaumaturge
Wilnachet	Dennis	M	Hyuumin/Rinker	Fighter

Local Characters

Character	Sex	Species/Race	Description
Ankarev	M	Gorvij	Constable
Ashdor	M	Waujak	Alchemist
Braatrin	F	Gorvij	Public Witness
Bronderet	F	Gorvij	Weaver
Fergus Urkhart	M	Vordin	Baker
Frotheringhaa Urkhart	M	Shougild	Carter
Galeger Throkmorton	M	Vordin	Head Vordin
Ghravnokh	F	Braksont	Tinkerer/Cook
Gremaan Artrening	M	Gorvij	Chief Constable
Kleris	F	Gorvij	Constable
Plimsool Urkhart	F	Shougild	Carter
Reridav	F	Gorvij	Tavern Owner
Tiireen	F	Gorvij	Entertainer

Niijel makes a circuit of the residential sections of the town. At
each door, he offers greetings. He finds everybody well.

He passes a shop with doorknobs on display. One of the more
expensive models looks familiar. He thinks he's seen several like it
back home in Janelaktim, but can't remember where.

He approaches the smithy. Ghravnokh the tinkerer has the door wide
open. With her are 2 gorvijes and 4 shougilds, apparently her
assistants. They are sharpening tools, mending implements, and
shoeing plowhorses.

Meanwhile, in the tavern, Plimsool and the cart have arrived with
more goodies for everyone. The workers finish their breakfast and
leave.

Tiireen the entertainer is now playing a series of lively songs in a
style referred to, for reasons unknown, as "police music".

I said oh yes oh yes do it now
I said oh yes oh yes do it now
I want someone to come and--
I want someone to come and--
Ma-ssage me with bu-tter!
Ma-ssage me with bu-tter!

Laeris sits by himself watching everything. He's drinking hot mint
with honey in it. Relten culture isn't big on coffee or tea, it
tends towards drinks that are sweet and/or fruity. There's fruit
here, the snowberries, but they're packed in snow and he really
needs to warm up. If anyone is leaving today, he'll consider leaving
with them, at least if it's someone he considers sensible. So far,
no one seems to be.

Arberiks takes a seat at the same table as Markuutril, who is studying
a book called "Plants to Use and Avoid". It's a textbook on herblore,
a skill he's hoping to learn. He mentally notes a few examples he
intends to watch out for once the growing season starts. He wonders
which of his companions he might practice on.

The two begin discussing the prospects of travel.

Markuutril tells her horror stories of travel both along and off the
road, displaying what appears to be a keen fear of travel but, in
blithe self-awareness, what he refers to as a "healthy respect". He
also seems certain that people cannot travel more than three days
ANYWHERE without running into life-threatening monsters, though his
stories about this happening switch between third and first person,
and his companions change as well. He also advances the theory that
nature is alive, and sentient, and hates them. "Hates us all, with a
passion unmatched by any mortal."

Arberiks wonders how much of what he says is reliable. After all,
several things he's been saying about her own country, Nokinerv, are
flat out wrong. Like the part about the interior being full of
werewolves.

Tireen is singing.

This do-nut stand is closed
This stand is closed, you see!
This do-nut stand is closed
This stand is closed, you see!

Waun is planning as best he can. Later today, he will be able to
pick up a batch of acid he ordered from Ashdor the alchemist 2 days
ago. He's going back to where he was supposed to be, to Endrikit,
capital city of the imperial province of Huwauwu. That's west of
Desert Port. He's not sure of the route, so he's been looking for
maps. Problem is, lewawanians have little motivation to have maps of
the Empire. Braatrin the public witness has promised to try to find
him some.

Liraan stands outside for a few seconds trying to decide if she
wants to eat or head back to the hostel. "Other flajessavs..." she
mumbles to herself as she rolls up the rough paper and sticks it
into her pouch. She has a while before the other flajessavs would be
able to help her and she hasn't eaten yet. Her stomach rumbles and
her sensitive nose picks up the scent of snowberries. She quickly
walks over to Reridav and buys 2 snowberries with a large handful of
the clean snow before it is all gone, placing it in a small bowl.
She also picks up some flatbread and grain mush, carefully making
her way over to the corner where Bronderet sits weaving. She is
intrigued by the girl's ability to weave and asks her if she may sit
and watch as she eats. She offers the girl one of the snowberries.

Bronderet shrieks. Reridav rushes to reassure her that the challit
is harmless, but tells Liraan firmly to move to a table on the other
side of the room. After that she whispers a quick apology for
Bronderet's behavior and brings Liraan a steamed apple tart with
honey.

Liraan is heartbroken both in the fact that she scared Bronderet and
that she can no longer watch the girl weave. She eats in silence.

Tireen is singing.

We have spearmint-- in a marshmallowy swirl!

In the middle of her workout, Cat ducks in, grabs a piece of
flatbread, spreads some mashed tuber over it, and gulps down a mug
of mint tea. She turns to leave again (still holding the impromptu
sandwich), and notices the banner. Brokeristics? Is that even a real
word? Several of the locals have already taken brochures and gone
off with them.

Alijar and Bernee approach the tavern together. They pause as Alijar
reads the various signs. Bernee had thought he was used to not being
able to speak gorvij, as he can usually at least find another
dargaolhuun to speak to. But not being able to read gorvij has
turned out to be more frustrating. Even with Alijar to translate for
him, he's concerned about missing nuances.

When Alijar sees the banner advertising brokeristics, he just stops.
Bernee has to poke him twice to get him to translate.

Alijar is extremely excited that it might be a call for revolution.
He immediately approaches the table underneath the banner. Bernee
has no idea what brokeristics is, but it sounds like easy coin in
pouch.

Cat darts past them and stops within reasonable distance of the man,
and jogging in place, says, "Hi. Convince me that this is worth
interrupting my workout."

He replies, "i am not here to convince anyone of anything. I merely
make information available to those who are ready for it".

She persists. "As in, I'm moderately intrigued, but you have about
30 seconds more to make your pitch."

He shrugs. "I have no pitch to make. Being moderately intrigued is
fine if you're looking for some drivel to be spoon fed. But this is
serious stuff, only for people prepared to sink their teeth into it.
Otherwise, it would just be a waste of your playtime."

Markuutril overhears this. He muses "Ooh, I can think of *something*
Cat may be prepared to sink her teeth into."

Cat raises an eyebrow at the man. "I'm not playing", she says
flatly. Then, as he seems to have nothing further of interest to
say, she turns and walks off, munching on her breakfast.

As she leaves the tavern, Ankarev the constable enters.

Markuutril looks with interest until he sees who it is. He's been
hoping to see new faces, and figures that some who had been holing
up all winter might finally show up on this special day, and that
there might be a chance of recognition. So far he's been
disappointed. But there's a lot of the day left. And later, perhaps
he'll go and knock on some doors.

Waun stops Ankarev and asks if he might have the tag removed now so
he can leave as soon as possible. The constable informs him that the
tags will only be removed just before their wearers leave town. In
any case, since Waun won't be required to leave until tomorrow, and
there is no transportation leaving before then, he should just relax
and wait. Waun scowls into his coffee.

Tireen is singing.

I'll be-- flattened by the wringer!

After finishing breakfast, Arberiks heads to the back and wanders up
to the tables. She picks up a brochure and looks at it casually. She
doesn't want to appear too interested, but she is wondering what
this 'brokeristics' is all about. She would like to learn how to
take control of her destiny and live on her own terms.

Alijar also takes a brochure and quietly reads it to Bernee.

As Niijel approaches the tavern he passes an arrangement of vertical
poles and a netting of ropes. He's seen it before and always assumed
it was a clothesline. Today he sees that some of the ropes have been
replaced with new ones. Before he can wonder why, a sudden gust of
wind nearly knocks him over.

Looking up, he feels his heart leap into his throat as the beak and
claws of a thrankee pass over him close enough to touch. No, make
that 4 meters above him. 3 if you count the wingtip as it banks
sharply. The rider jerks a leather strap at the back of the saddle,
releasing a canvas covered bundle, which falls into the netting.

Reridav comes out the back door of the tavern with a long hook which
she uses to retrieve the bundle. Niijel has recovered enough to
realize just how much he needs to get to the outhouse.

By this time Laeris has figured out that the table and such has
nothing to do with the coaches, and quietly goes up and checks out
the brochures, as well as the rest of the table and the man behind
it. The man gives him a warm smile. The brochures are the only items
on the table and they all seem to be the same kind. He had meant to
just scan one, but it uses a lot of difficult words so he takes it
to read more carefully. "I hope it is of value to you", the man
murmurs. Laeris just nods, not wanting to reveal his stunted Gorvij.
In passing he notices that the man has a large, cumbersome looking
bracelet made of some pinkish metal. Must be a brass knuckle.

Markuutril hasn't seen this man around before, so he studies the face
carefully. No recognition. Then he realizes that there's the
possibility this man is from somewhere very close by (either that or
was crazy enough to be traveling in the winter!), and if the former
he may be able to advise regarding hazards enroute, whereas with the
latter he'd be, well, crazy. And speaking of crazies: what about that
banner?

He may not know much about politics (or, for that matter, even know
the WORD politics), but he's bright enough to connect that with the
revolutions Gremaan Artrening was talking about. And if this man IS
from elsewhere, that indicates that MANY others from elsewhere have
already been tempted-- and anytime that large numbers of people begin
doing crazy things, especially of the type that are publicly
recognized as revolution, they become a MAJOR traveling hazard.

Markuutril wanders over and, while perusing a brochure, asks the man
a question. "So, are you from Desert Port?" He's prepared to learn
everything he can about Brokeristics. Because you never know when
you will be called upon to convince the crazies that you are one of
them.

The man shrugs. "I was born here, but i am not *from* here. I am
from the community of the free. You can be too. Just read."

Waun has been observing the man's reactions to others approaching
him. Gorvij, non gorvij, lewanian, non lewawanian, it's all the
same. The man smilles, nods, and hopes each reader will gain from
the reading. Waun has been wondering if this might be some kind of
imperial intelligence operation but so far hasn't seen the slightest
indication of it. Waun takes a brochure for himself and another for
Kootayu.

Niijel enters and serves himself a generous portion. He sits down at
a table and notices that everyone seems to be quiet, absorbed in
reading the brochures. He's surprised. He had expected to find the
man in the fancy clothes loudly proclaiming the wonderfulness of
this brokeristics, whatever it is. He grabs a brochure.

Tireen is singing.

Quiet pets are what you wake, talking in the room