Tales of The Flying Bunyip (D&D 3.5)

Session 2-2: The Tipsy Gnoll and the eyes that watch

A party at the worse inn in town and Otar finds himself in a bind

The inn was not the prettiest of places to be. It immediately opened up to the common area where several patrons had settled into their seats and proceeded to look gloomily into their drinks. Manning the front desk was a wide eyed gnoll who wore a stained ragged apron who immediately brought his attention to his new arrivals. Within a moment, he leaned forward with sniffed the air in hopes to get an idea if they were present for business or to waste his time. “What can I do for you, my honored guests of the Tipsy Gnoll yes, hello, hi.”

Celean looked back at her companions as Abbadon was just making his way through the door. “Just here for rooms and food. That’s al-” “Wonderful!” The gnoll interrupted. Within moments he produced a set of keys for his would be guests. “10 coppers each, and I’ll come bring the food and the drink.” With a slight shrug, everyone dug into their pouches and produced the fee introduced to them, then made their way to a large table to settle in.

A few words were exchanged with each other before the gnoll came and set a plate of various meats in front of his new guests. He seemed rather excited about receiving unfamiliar faces into his little inn, and set the keys excitedly in front of them. “If you’d like to spend an extra 2 gold, I deal the best Pop’s ale here! I swear you’ll love it! The best of the best!” From the background, a dwarf sat in a corner, and as if on cue, he cried out “The best of the best!” Bartleby was never one to really refuse a drink, particularly one he hadn’t had since his capture, and it seemed that Abbadon and Celean were inclined to agree. With a nod between the three, the gnoll rushed to his counter and began to pour several mugs of a frothy brew.

“First thing’s first. We touch base with the Outreach Center and look into the jobs posted there. Hopefully we can scrounge up enough gold to buy a ship then head to Glasscliff.” Abbadon’s voice was firm and decisive as he brought a chunk of meat to his lips and tore from it. It wasn’t the best meat he’d ever had… in fact it was maybe the worse. Regardless, there was a first time for everything so he continued to dig in. Bartleby casually picked at his meal while Celean prodded her dinner with suspicious pokes. Eventually 3 mugs slammed down in front of the three, who quickly took their drinks and started to drown away the bitter taste.

The Tipsy Gnoll was dead silent, occasionally a few whispers from the scatter patrons, and a large belch from the dwarf in the corner. This annoyed Bartleby, and it seemed to annoy the dwarf as well. Soon enough the stout bearded man stood upon his table and began to sing drunkenly. “You come here ya come there, you seek a decent fair. Yer pockets are lackin gold ‘n’ empty~! Yer down on yer luck, ‘n’ can’t git outta the muck – Ya got ale to wash away the worries!”

Fingers strum upon the lute in Bartleby’s hands as he stood in his chair and accompanied the dwarf in his song. It was catchy and simple, the general ideas of drowning away your fears and hardships, it was enough for the dwarf to go as far as ordering another round for himself and the three. Abbadon laughed as Celean got into the spirit of things and joined in the song, and soon enough the run down pub was roaring in song and dance.

Hours passed and people continued to sing and dance, Bartleby strumming away and leading the chorus until a pair of men from the nightwatch entered the Tipsy Gnoll. One of the men nodded towards the proprietor “Stinky.” The gnoll nodded in response before pointing towards the dwarf. It seemed like the Night Watch were familiar with the rambunctious individual and made their way to him as he stumbled about in a drunken haze. “Alright alright you lot. Break it up. We’ve got plenty of noise complaints coming from this place, so you all calm down.” There was a resounding groan of disappointment as the two guards started to drag the dwarf out of the door.

As the three picked up their things, they eventually went up to the common room to turn in for the night. It was maybe one of the worse nights sleep they had ever experienced. Except for the whole: Sleeping on a solid floor in a prison cell thing.

Spider travelled the road casually towards the Lumbering Giant as Edgar rested peacefully in the back. Otar glanced about the closed marketplace, noting a sight of something unusual… a golem. It was of simple make, clay, lumbering, and it appeared to patrol the area as if it were in charge of guarding the area at night. It was then, that Otar raised a brow and brought his hand to the bandanna around his neck. He quickly pulled it up and over his nose so not to be noticed… But the golem had stopped its routine and was now staring at him. “Shit.” The wizard uttered under his breath… but the magical construct did not chase him by the time he left the area. It only stood there and stared until he left.

Hopping down from the wagon and handing Spider over to the stableboy, he reached over and picked a few coins from Edgar’s money pouch. “This should about cover it.” He flipped a few coins to the boy who smile and nodded respectfully in thanks. Otar glanced about the area once again, making sure he wasn’t followed, and when reassured of his isolation, he ducked into the Lumbering Giant.



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