Striding purposefully through the doorway, C'nutsakh approached the innkeeper, who was absentmindedly cleaning flagons, "I'd like to hire some Dwarven warriors."
"You're a dwarven warrior, bub."
"I know that. I want to hire some more."
"You don't know any? 'Cause if you do, there's a shortage and I can find work for them in a jiffy."
"Wait a minute! You're the placement agency, and you're asking me to find you warriors?"
"Dwarven warriors, sure. They're worth a premium. Not like Timmy-the-Window-Licker over there... HEY! QUIT LICKING THE DAGGONE WINDOWS!"
Surveying the room, C'nutsakh saw the serving wench scurrying around an exotic entertainer to deliver fresh flagons to two experienced looking... individuals conversing with one another. He deflated a bit at seeing the group at the front table. Beard up, chest out, he approached the two conversing at the back table.
|HeroQuest figures by Milton-Bradley; Innkeeper, Serving Wench and Bonzo by Reaper Miniatures; Belly Dancer by Flying Frog Games, Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner by Warren Zevon.|
The white-faced one mutely peered at him from over his flagon while the other poured mead down his neck hole.
Finally, the evil clown spoke, "Boy, you only got your name two sessions ago. We're retired."
C'nutsakh didn't know what manner of strange, metal item the silent one held, but when he pulled back a small handle that slammed forward with a menacing CLICK, he realized:
- The item is a weapon.
- The weapon is far more deadly than any he'd ever heard of, less seen.
- These... gentlemen were best left to conduct their business in privacy.
With resignation, C'nutsakh turned toward the group at the front table, and discovered two of the three gazing at him in the same way a fourth-grader does when he knows the answer: Pick Me! Pick Me! Regrettably, but unexpectedly, the third appeared to be licking the window.
Without hope for an affirmative answer, the dwarf asked as he approached, "Do any of you have a name?"
The Warrior was still oblivious to anything in the room while Elf and Wizard immediately began examining the floor.
"Wizard is a title", was the barely audible reply.
"Have you at least quested yet?"
"If getting here from across town counts, then yes, and it should."
"Alright, I'm C'nutsakh and you're hired, on condition that you keep the window licker from doing any too stupid. I know you can't completely prevent his stupidity, but I expect you do keep an eye on him at all times. Let's go."
As the dwarf led his new grunts, the innkeeper called out, "Hey Dwarf, got any Gold Talos?"
"My name is C'nutsakh! You'd best remember that, and yes I have... one or two."
"I've got just the thing you need. A Healer."
This occurred to C'nut as a darn good idea. "Half a Talos!"
"Two Gold Talos. This fellow will keep your knuckleheads alive and in the fight."
"I'll meet you in the middle, two Talos."
"Hey! That's not the middle!"
"The middle of the room", said the innkeeper with an unusual brown-robed man behind him.
"Where's the healer?"
"He's the healer. Best kind of healer available. A Florist Friar. Just be sure to keep him away from sheep. Only Ewe can Prevent Florist Friars."