As Anshelm and Kazimir partake of a drink and a meal, there enters into the Gospoda a rather pathetic figure. He seems to have suffered a burn long in his past which removed three quarters of his hair and one of his ears, and he is lame in one foot so that as he shuffles along the foot lays on its side. He is wearing a black cloak, old and with a heavy vinegar smell, so much that Kazimir (who you remember lived in gutters part of his life) is thrown off his food for a minute or two.
"Do you have it?" asks the cripple eagerly, in a cracked voice.
"Aye," says the bartender, apparently quite familiar with the cripple and entirely accepting of him. "I've had it ready since this morning."
"Excellent, excellent," says the cripple. He waits impatiently, shuffling his poor foot, as the bartender reaches to the floor behind the bar and produces a large, black ceramic jar. He puts it on the counter. It would weigh, you would estimate, about eighteen pounds, about four gallons overall. The cripple embraces it in his arms, puts it on the floor, and opens the lid.
The odor is astounding. You thought the crippled smelled bad ... you're both compelled to let out a cry of anguish, quite uncontrollably. The cripple cackles over what he sees inside. "MOST wonderful," he mutters happily. He replaces the lid - much to your relief - and says to the bartender, "You are to be commended. The master will be very pleased."
"Tell your master that he is most welcome."
"I will, I will ..." Whereupon the cripple lifts the jar, hugs it to his chest and merrily heads on his way.
The bartender does not, as might be expected, make an apology about the inconvenience the little scene offered to your dining pleasure.
"What the devil was that vile stuff?" says Anshelm. "Is that a delicacy here in Dachau?"
ReplyDeleteWas that said to the bartender?
ReplyDelete(OOC: Yes, probably not a smart thing to say, but it seems to fit the man's personality.)
ReplyDeleteKazimir will use ken on the cripple. I very much doubt he has a character class, but I may as well check anyway. (Make sure he's not a necromancer's apprentice or whatnot.)
ReplyDeleteAside from that, Kazimir will try to recover his appetite, as he does love a good blood sausage.
He will look pointendly at Anshelm and raise an eyebrow.
Anshelm,
ReplyDeleteJust clarifying between the bartender and something rhetorical said to Kazimir.
Kazimir,
Ah, but he IS a necromancer's apprentice. Your ken tells you so.
(OOC: kind of a pun, that; 'ken' being Anshelm's name ... though Ken technically didn't tell you, I did).
The bartender's reaction to the question of it being a delicacy is to look horrified. "GADS, no! I'd be out of business in a day. Those were just ghoul hearts; he collects them monthly. It breaks my heart that this is my last delivery." To Kazimir he says, "A gold piece for the meal if you please sir."
"Ghoul hearts, eh?" Anshelm takes a drink and a pinch of snuff to cover his surprise. "Is there a good market for those? What happened to the supply?"
ReplyDelete"Supply? Oh, plenty of supply, has been since the war. Only my hunters do not fare well this day. Two are dead and the third has lost his legs. So that is it for me."
ReplyDeleteThe bartender clucks his teeth and shakes his head sadly.
(OOC: I can scarcely resist a good pun. Well played, sir.)
ReplyDeleteKazimir will pay his tab. "An excellent sausage... best I've had in years."
He looks at Anshelm, then back at the bartender.
"So, sir... you employed these hunters, yes?"
"Of course," answers the bartender. "Paid them dearly, too, for it's dangerous work. But when them Catholics and Protestants burned churches, they defiled them gravesites - but the locals kept buryin' the dead just the same. They been stopped now, but there's dozens of hamlets around that have never been cleared out. Twas good for me and the hunters ... I've been thinking maybe one of these soldiers that come in here, or the mercenaries we get sometimes, but I knew when I heard the talk this morning not to hope for much. Those events from yesterday have put the fear into most about things supernatural."
ReplyDeleteKazimir grins at Anshelm and says to the barkeep "I think perhaps we can help each other, sir."
ReplyDelete[OOC: Two questions...actually, one assumption, one question:
ReplyDelete1. Kazimir's assassination attack would likely be useless against the undead, am I correct?
2. How easy is it to obtain holy water? Can we buy it from the local church? Would it be in short supply after the recent unholy row? (Ha!)]
Anshelm nods. "Aye, we've stood toe to toe with the supernatural ourselves...pays well, you say?"
ReplyDeleteThe bartender would be happy to contract with you to obtain four ghoul's hearts, to be delivered within three months time, at a price of 73 g.p. each. He only worries that you know what you might be getting into - that you understand that you'll have to locate the deserted villages yourself, as he does not know where they are - though he can send you to speak to the fellow who had lost his legs in yesterday's terror. Would that be amenable to you?
ReplyDelete(OOC: You will note that sometimes this DM will actually throw out a traditional 'hook')
Anshelm agrees to the terms without hesitation.
ReplyDeleteKazimir says to Anshelm "Let's find our fellows. Surely this is preferable to sifting through the rubble."
ReplyDelete"Indeed, now we've a bit of news to share with them..."
ReplyDeleteAnshelm finishes his ale in one swallow and heads for the door with Kazimir after bidding the bartender farewell.
Continued on newest post.
ReplyDelete