A Crimson Shore, Far Realm
Pub Crawl, Session 2: Putting the Crawl in Pub Crawl
The storm winds raged and the drinking contest continued. The party took their seats at the second bar, The Log and Barrel. Arriving too late, Lazlo stood outside with his gang, disqualified. His feather hung limply as the rain beat down on him. Edward Rooney, standing in the doorway, told him forcefully to go. Thrak and the others sat at their table and tried not to look. But it was too much fun not to peak around their tankards.
“One down,” muttered the lizardman.
“Maybe two actually,” said Ariea, she was watching Andril smile at nothing in particular.
The Glass is Half Empty
“You doing alright, Andril?” Asked Areia. Andril hadn’t looked so good for a while. The thief took her seat on a log, and grabbed a mug of ale on the barrel, turned table. She looked at Andril who was leaning a bit too far backwards.
“Dgurbuddle gurbank,” gurbled the mage. “Frishtump!”
“Since no one fell asleep, either he’s out of spells, or he’s drunk I suppose,” sighed Areia.
Down the hatch went the second mug, and the contest began again. Edward Rooney walked around the various tables and the remaining teams. Each put down their ale, and began the challenge of transferring ale from one mug to the next in the allotted time. Once again the party did well, but seemed to play second fiddle, this time by a band of ex-soldiers known as The Militia of Middle Isle.
They were on their way out to the third bar, when Morn noticed Humbolt speaking to a group of soldiers. He was flustered, and none too happy with whatever they were discussing.
“I’m guessing his daughters are out and about again,” giggled Madeline.
Humbolt stormed off into the rainy night with a few of the green and gold tunic clad men.
The third bar was named the Order of the Golden Ale, and here, Edward Rooney, stroking Nuni’s black crow, gave the directions. “For this classic pub challenge you will play the remembering game. Repeat after me alemeisters: I’m going to Cillandar and I’m bringing a…”, and as the teams laughed and cheered, they did indeed repeat the line, and a judge moved into position at each table to record the classic game. Thrak wasn’t sure why the others didn’t ask him to sit out. Morn and Inara had taken a break in this one, and Thrak knew nothing of these Celn games. He seemed to be the only one. He did know how to hold his ale though, and perhaps that was why. Clearly the other teams had practiced these bar challenges. He imagined they would with such an incredible prize being offered to the winner.
On this challenge the party did quite poorly and poor Andril began to sway.
“I think he’s had some off liquor, friends,” whispered Areia. The others stared at Andril swaying on his chair, his left hand holding his right hand, which was desperately trying grab at anything that passed by.
“Goblin Hand Syndrome!” said Morn. “I haven’t seen a case this bad since Cellione the summer of 85.”
“Wizards,” said the lizardman. He nudged the mage to stand and got caught in the hand battle instead. As Andril was helped move on to the next bar, Thrak stood and followed them out, but before exiting he got a bit of Humbolt speaking in a hushed tone outside the bar.
“What do you mean griffon teams haven’t reported Quell?”
“My Lord, we aren’t hearing from many of the posts,” replied Humbolt’s commander, “I’m sure it’s just the storm my lord!”
Thrak tried to stare ahead, so he pointed his snout in the direction of the fourth bar. But he couldn’t help wonder about what he heard. He caught up to the others, who were standing under a porch overhang. The rain was pouring.
“The fountain is nearby. Now that Lazlo’s been disqualified, it’s no doubt they will grab their reward soon. We should get to it before he does. This is the only chance we’ll have and to make it back in time to our next table!”
No Bad Deed Goes Unpunished
Areia led them into the hero’s plaza, and they approached the area of the statue where the note had told them to look. This fountain was one of the most odd monuments in Far Realm. Idol worship of any kind would not be tolerated in Celn lands and yet here sat a stone scupture featuring a series of statues battling a monster. This particular version represented the iconic four heroes. Traditional statues back in Celn lands were molded so that the faces were unrecognizable, but these here clearly depicted Taryn, Mesilla, Jasper and Bolvist. They battled the dreaded basilisk their first night in Carr Alpha.
“Andril, sober up buddy! Do you have the password?”
“Ducky fuzz!” shouted the mage. At first, Thrak thought it was just the alcohol talking, but then he saw the statues begin to move!
“Thrust me,” the Mage smiled, his right hand pulling his left ear.