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At sunset, a day after multiple "Help Wanted" posters went up around Neverwinter, an older looking dwarf sits with his human companion in the center of the lower floor that acted as a bar and restaurant at the Philosopher Inn. He sits, barely touching his food while the human he shares a table with digs in with gusto. No, the dwarf's eyes are trained on the door. Each person that enters feels his eyes run them up and down, as he waits to see their next actions. The ones heading for the staircase to the rooms above, he ignores completely. Those he feels searching the lower common room, he waves over.

Good evening. I presume you are here because you have seen my request for assistance about town?

The light coming through the door is eclipsed by a burly shape. The figure steps in side and it becomes clear that the individual is a large dwarf, dressed in brown mail and a silver helm. He's clearly looking around for someone. When the older dwarf waves him over, he hesitates a moment, then makes his way to his table. He gives a cautious and partially amused glance at the human before turning his attention to the elder.

SamWiser wrote: ↑Sun Aug 11, 2019 11:00 am Good evening. I presume you are here because you have seen my request for assistance about town?

He gives him a grave nod. " I am Father Balin of the Stonefist Clan. I find myself needing to travel to Phandelver. It occurs to me that we could be of assistance to each other. My ...resources ... are rather limited, and you need a guard. I find this fortuitous. "

A thin, younger woman with short blonde hair and clear elven ancestry smiles at the dwarf and waves on hearing his question. She is wearing a rather soiled grey robe that is more suited to a library or a place of study than a bar. She approaches the dwarf and human's table with a big grin, a patch of missing hair on the left side of her head behind the temple and above her pointed ears becomes apparent along with a gold piece sized scar above her right temple to anyone caring to look. She happily extends a hand to the dwarf,

"Actually, yes! My name is Aimee and I am interested. When do we leave?"

She smiles broadly at the human at the table,

"Did you see the posters? Are you coming too?"

Then to the stout brown dressed dwarf she says,

"I think brown is a great color! Have you been to Phandelver before? I'm Aimee!" She shoves her hand in his direction for shaking.

Balin beetles his eyebrows at the half elf, hesitates a moment, extends a massive hand and carefully shakes the offered hand. "Pleased to meet you." he rumbles.

" I am Father Balin of the Stonefist Clan. I find myself needing to travel to Phandelver. It occurs to me that we could be of assistance to each other. My ...resources ... are rather limited, and you need a guard. I find this fortuitous. "

Fortuitous indeed. My name is Gundren Rockseeker. I am proud to employ a man of the gods for this journey. Perhaps it will gain their blessing for your journey, and the entire expedition as well, if their favor finds me. Before he can go any farther, Aimee comes through the door. Upon being waved over, a babbling brook of words comes pouring through her mouth.


"Actually, yes! My name is Aimee and I am interested. When do we leave?"

I have provided rooms through the night, and you will be expected to leave in the morning.

"Did you see the posters? Are you coming too?"

Well, I--

My companion, Sildar Hallwinter, will be joining me as a guard as I go on ahead. I am to assess the situation before my brothers come to start the business in earnest. The two of us will go on ahead while you follow with the supplies I will need. Sildar gives a warm smile to both Aimee and Balin before digging back into his food.

"I think brown is a great color! Have you been to Phandelver before? I'm Aimee!"

Gundren doesn't know what to make of this incessantly cheerful and mad-looking woman. I must protest, Madam... Aimee. My good Father Balin is prepared for the road and looks like he can handle himself easily. But you, you look like you just left a library and lost a fight with a... a hairdresser! While I am in need, and I feel like Father Balin may be in need of extra hands, I will not have those under my employ that are unable to do the job they are paid for. If you are accepted as a guard, what have you in ways of protecting my gear and your fellow... Gundren looks at the similarly sized Balin, vs. the much taller half-elf. dwarf, if bandits or other danger should befall you upon your journey?

Saca Brako enters the establishment, closing the door behind her. She's a dwarf woman clad in armour, her shoulder-long hair open save for two braids at either side of her head, to help keep the hair out of her face. Her whole attire is quite dusty from top to bottom, as if she had been on the road for a very long time.
She spots the group at the table, walks over briskly, plants her butt onto a chair at the dwarf & human's table and slams one of the "help wanted" notes that were hung all over town onto the surface of the table, to leave no doubt about why she's here.
Then she waves for one of the waiters/waitresses of the Inn with an impatient gesture.

Aimee gives Sildar a broad smile back and shakes Balin's hand with vigor.

She turns to look at Gundren and she tries to school her features to something resembling seriousness but there is still a smile in her eyes.

"I actually am just out of the academy, not a library, but great guess!" She pats her hair absently, "I got my haircuts from a fellow sage at the academy and we never fought...okay maybe a few times but, I assure you, I always won."

She nods solemnly as Gundren continues,

"Well... I do know how to use a dagger," she pulls out a dagger and holds the not sharp side, waving it around before leaning in and stage whispering, "and I know some magic."

She will light/put out a candle with prestidigitation and then cleans her clothes with it.


"Oh, and I can shoot this!"

Still holding the dagger she reaches inside her robe to pull out a crossbow with her off hand.

She watches Saca go by and sit, and any attempt to be stern disappears,

"What a plentitude of dwarves! Greetings, I am familiar with the speaking of Dwarven," she says in very formal Dwarven looking between the dwarves.

Focusing back on Gundren and she takes a breath and wipes the smile from her face,

"You want me to shoot something?"

Balin gives Aimee a bit of a look at that and casually starts easing a bit further away. He unobtrusively wipes his hand on a pant leg. He gives a nod to Saca and gives her a quick once over.

Perception: 1d20+2 = [4] = 6

Aimee's antics are too distracting/concerning at the moment for it to be much more than a very cursory glance (I.e. She's a dwarf, she isn't a zombie, and she is not currently foaming at the mouth.)

Saca just holds up a hand, in the direction of Aimee, when she tries to speak with her. "Beer first, talk later." (this is in common)

A young, skinny blue dragonborn in water-stained travelling clothes comes charging through the door, brandishing a help wanted flier and slamming the door loudly into the cloakstand by the doorway as he does, getting more than a few grumbles from surprised drinkers at the bar.

"Am I late?! I'm looking for Gudrun... Uh... Gudrun Rockseeker! Is he here- oh! Are you him? Gudrun... Mr. Rockseeker? I'm Kryz! Here about the guard job. ..."

Realising he's not the only person here, he flushes slightly and grins somewhat sheepishly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to butt in! Pleased to meet you all! I'm Kryz!"

Aimee jumps when the door slams and spins, still holding the dagger and crossbow (unloaded), to face Kryz.

A toothy smile on her face she goes to offer her hand before realizing she has a dagger in it. Transferring the dagger to the crossbow hand (so it looks like she'll drop both) she extends her newly free hand to Kryz,

"Hi Kryz! I'm Aimee! Gundren," she raises her eyebrows as she emphasizes the name and gives a small jerk of her head back to the boss dwarf, "was just going to have me shoot something so you're on time. You are so wonderfully blue!"

(( Oh, yeah! This is going to be interesting! ))

Balin looks around at his prospective co-workers with a doubtful expression on his face. He briefly closes his eyes and mutters something under his breath. He then composes himself and adopts the classic stoic dwarf expression and patiently waits for Gundren to make his decision.

(( Every comedy troupe needs a "straight man". I guess that's going to be Balin. ))

Kryz looks more sad at the crossbow and dagger being pointed at him than anything else, until he realizes that it's accidental and he's not being agressively refused a place at the table. He grins at the compliment.

"Oh nice! Aimee! Yeah, I'm Kryz." He flushes again, slightly awkwardly as he realises he's said his name far too many times.

"Yeah, definitely blue! My old shipmates used to paint orange stripes on me when I worked on deck. Said if I fell in they'd never find me again hahaha!"

He turns to the others and offers a callused, clawed hand in greeting.

"Gundrun! So pleased to meet you! Sorry I'm late I didn't mean to be, but I got into an argument with a donkey on the outside of town, you know how it goes. Anyway, we ended up having a bit of a heart to heart chat about what was bothering him, but then it was getting late and... Well, I guess I made it anyway."

Seeming to notice the other dwarves for the first time, he says, "Oh! Hi! You must be here for the job too? I'm Kryz. ...you probably already know that."

Gundren's eyes widen as Aimee takes out her weapons and starts waving them around the bar. Before he can say anything, Saca slams the post down and calls for a drink. While the bartender obliges, quickly running a large mug over, a blue draconic creature comes in, introduces itself in surprisingly good common, and quickly gets a crossbow bolt pointed at it. Yes, this meeting was going well.

Miss Aimee, I believe a demonstration of your skills will not be necessary. If you wish to risk life and limb protecting my gear, I will trust your own assessment of your abilities. And please, put away your weapons. This is a respectable place of business, and waving instruments of harm inside is unseemly. Welcome, Kryz. It is not often we see a Dragonborn around these parts of the world. To what do I owe the pleasure of your interest in my small request for assistance?

Sildar, who has been watching comings and happenings with increasing amusement, even going so far as to lift his head out of his seemingly never-ending bowl of food as Aimee started waving her crossbow around, receives a quick elbow to the side to quiet his snickering as Gundren turns to Saca, who has finally received her drink. And you are?

Saca takes Kryz's hand slightly tentatively and shakes it.

When the beer finally arrives she bends over the mug and uses her hand to waft some of its smell into her nose. If she approves, she takes a sip. If she approves, she downs half the mug in one swig, burps hugely and nods approvingly.
Else (if the beer is badly made/not tasty enough), she will call the waiting staff over to complain.

"Saca Brako. Cleric. Blacksmith. Brewer. Woman of many talents. If you've heard of me, do me a favour and keep it to yerself." she replies to Gudrun, her hand extended for a friendly shake, if he wishes to.

As Saca introduces herself and holds her hand out, Gundren reaches out and dismissively gives her hand a quick shake.

Well, then. Now that we have several applicants, I think it would be smartest for all involved, and the inkeeper most of all, that we cut applications there. Since introductions have been taken care of, do any of you have any questions, and do you all understand the job I have hired you to do?

Saca takes another swig, wipes her moth with the back of her hand and asks: "How far is the journey and how heavy is that cart with its contents? Is the road to Phandalin suited for the cart?"

Aimee laughs at Kryz's orange stripe story and then stifles the laugh at Gundren's admonishment about her weapons, but doesn't look the least bit contrite as she puts the dagger then the crossbow away. Her eyes dart between Kryz and his retelling of his issues with the donkey and Saca's ritual with the beer with a mirthful expression on her face.

She looks at Gundren and does a convincing job trying to look serious as he asks about the job. She adds to Saca's questions,

"And when are we expected there?"

((Sam, does Aimee know what is on the other side of the border Phandalin is on? Is it a country or just 'the wilds'?))

To answer Gundrun's first question:

"Oh! Well... Just... wanted some time on shore really. See the world a bit. You know how it is." A flicker of sadness crossed his face before breaking back into a smile. "Can't sail around forever."

He gives Saca's beer an envious look.

Balin shrugs. "The job seems clear enough. Are you expecting any major issues to occur? I have not heard of bandit activity, but you may have a better feel for the dangers of the road? "

"How far is the journey and how heavy is that cart with its contents? Is the road to Phandalin suited for the cart?"

At this, Gundren moves his plate of food, and Sildar's bowl away from them (much to the annoyance of Sildar, who was in the middle of a bite), and pulls out a piece of parchment. On it is a map of the coast. He points to Neverwinter, then runs his fingers across the route they will take to Phandalin.

The town of Phandalin is roughly 70 miles away. I fully suspect that it will take several days for you to reach the town, with how slow most carts move. If you have not made it by the 4th day, I will assume you have either ran off with my gear, or have perished on the road. The cart is too heavy to be pulled by your hands, if that is what you were planning, but beasts of burden will be provided as well. The first leg of the journey will be on the Royal road. The final leg will be on smaller, dirt roads. I don't suspect that there will be a problem, as many traders are known to stop in at Phandalin, and they must get their wares there somehow.

"The job seems clear enough. Are you expecting any major issues to occur? I have not heard of bandit activity, but you may have a better feel for the dangers of the road? "

I do not expect any major issues, but Phandalin is not a major center like Neverwinter. If I lose this gear, it would be a major setback and would take far too long to replace it. Hence why I am hiring guards. There should be no issues on the main road, though the rumors of bandits always show up. On the trail roads after that... Phandalin is a border town near a dangerous forest. Nothing could happen, or you could be attacked by a horde of bugbears. All is possible. Though unlikely.

Perhaps realizing that he was being a little too serious and risking scaring off his potential guards, Gundren gives a small smile at that last sentence.

Kryz glances at the map and frowns for a moment at where Gundren is pointing before seemingly getting distracted by the rest of the bar.

"So... Do we get paid now? Or when we get there? Not going to lie, I could kind of use an advance."

He grins hopefully at Gundren.

Persuasion: 1D20+3 = [3]+3 = 6

"So... Do we get paid now? Or when we get there? Not going to lie, I could kind of use an advance."

Gundren turns to the Blue Dragonborn. You will be paid when the cart is delivered, after the inventory has been counted. Don't worry, though. Trail rations will be provided for each of you that should last the entire trip. There is also the possibility of further work when you get there if my coin does not fulfill your needs, though I do not want to promise any work until I fully assess our future needs.

Kryz looks momentarily crestfallen.

"Fair enough. I probably wouldn't trust me either. Ah well, worth a try I guess! What time are we up in the morning then? Where do we get your cart?"

Saca, having noticed the longing look the dragonborn has cast towards her mug, and listened to him asking for an advance addresses Gudrun after quickly pinching the bridge of her nose, then looking up to him with a charming smile: "So, the poster said lodging for the night will be provided. I'm assuming that also includes an evening meal and a nightcap, for sure? You wouldn't want the people guarding and transporting your precious cargo to start the first leg of the journey hungry and tired because they couldn't sleep due to aching bellies and minds un-soothed by the sweet caress of beer, right?"

Persuasion 1D20+5 = [11]+5 = 16

"Oh, and what beasts of burden are we talking about?" she asks, her interest piqued.
"If we happen to run into any bandits or other danger and manage to ... make the road a bit safer in the process, would we possibly get some sort of bonus?"