You walk into the dimly-lit tavern; the smell of booze and adventurer-stink assaults your nostrils as you cross the threshold.
The tables are filled with the standard fare: adventuring parties resting for the night, local guardsmen coming off a duty shift to relax, and the town drunkards barely able to keep their heads up. The innkeeper behind the bar looks up and nods at you as he fiddles with the spout of a fresh barrel of ale he's replacing.
A stocky bard near the fire is playing a poor rendition of "The Fall of Ghorzag" to nobody in particular. A young dwarf sitting next to a much-older dwarf invites you to sit at their table; there are also empty seats available at the bar.
- Sit at the bar
- Approach the dwarves
- Sit next to the bard
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You take a seat, and after a moment the innkeeper finishes his work, straightens, and turns to you. He lifts an eyebrow.
"Been a couple weeks longer than your normal trips take - thought you'd gone and gotten yourself killed on that damn fool's errand." He picks up a tankard, and you fish out your coin purse. "Usual, then?"
You smile, "Ah Gustav, you know me too well. Yes, a tankard of the Phygrian ale and a bowl of rabbit stew is exactly what I need right now."
Two-and-a-half coppers poorer, but with a warm stomach and spirit, you stretch your aching muscles and divert your attention from the remnants of your meal to the rest of the tavern once more.
The bard has given up playing to no audience and is nursing a cupful of rum in the corner, with a rather mulish expression.
The dwarves are engaged in lively conversation with one of the adventurers - a monk, by the looks of her.
Raised voices draw your eye to the right of the room; one of the off-duty guards seems to have an issue with some drunks...
Gustav sees it all, rolls his eyes, and takes your utensils away to wash. "Now that you've eaten, tell me: how was the trip?"
- "Successful..."
- "Miserable..."
- "Never mind that..."
