More Booze - RPLOG

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Participants

Date

17/11/476

Log



Discontent! Despair! Today is the day...well, there's no festival today, but it would appear that drink is nevertheless in short supply. Ale, cider, beer, wine - the only available drink is a disgusting toddy brewed up from palm sap, and who wants THAT? To be sure, one would imagine such a place as the Freeswords' Inn would be constantly stocked up on drink far in advance to account for any shocks, but it would appear that this fateful day, the improbable - nay, impossible has finally happened. It wouldn't be so bad if folk could just step out the door and get some more, but it would appear the locale has been steadily exhausted by now. Drink, being one of the mainstay comforts beings from all walks of life can enjoy...and it's only when it's not around that one can understand the importance of it, as evidenced by the growing number of discontented folk milling about in the common room and street outside.

Issi weaves her way into the Inn, dodging or trying to dodge the various angry patrons gathering in and around the Inn. The viper has already pulled out a few sheets of paper, trying to sort through them to find a usabe water magic scroll. If what people were saying was true, then it might come in handy, or not.

Kurzon's pressence had litle to do with anything so mundane as protesting his own lack of drink, his monk-like disposition made him more concerned with the public welfare and fallout not to mention the chance to do something that could well allow him to push his new reduced limits.

Falx slowly made his own way through the crowd to the inn, hearing everything going on, the rumors, and the outright angered statements. All this makes him curious, not as to what is going on, but more as to why. He's curious as to what would cause such a shortage, and he thus goes in to investigate.

"It's not my fault," the bartender on duty says, looking completely nonchalant as he polishes a glass with practiced finesse and carries on the time-honoured tradition of passing the buck. "You lot drink too much, really, ran through our reserves in a few days. Take it up with the merchan't guild - can't buy what isn't there. They don't have any, so we don't have any. Simple as that."

"What do we want? Another drink! And when do we want it? Now!" Unfortunately, this show of solidarity from the massed beings, though impressive, is insufficient to sway the cruel mistress that is reality. The lack of drink is still painfully obvious, and throats are growing drier by the moment.

Siyu lets out a small little sound as he'll wander in, swish his hips and he'll take a look to see whos' here, going to the bar to get himself a tall beer. Wetting his lips and watching it be poured.

Issi has a few scrolls that hopefully won't implode, but no promises. She looks about for a good place to try them, but as it stands the big cluster of beings was making it hard for the viper to do anything useful, not that it was likely in the first place. She does try to think. Shouldn't there be a river in town?

Kurzon frowns, then deciding he should act to mitigate the public unrest, he raises his voice above the din. "Rather than complain to those that offer us faithful service for hard earn crown, let us go to the guild and seek what is required to aleviate the source of this problem rather than rail at those that share the suffering from the symptoms?"

Falx remains mostly silent, noticing both Kurzon and Issi, and also taking note of the Bartender. The Merchant's guild doesn't have any? Now that's an interesting development. He slowly makes his way to the bar where he can get a better view of what's going on, to keep an eye on all the rowdies. He also starts to go over equations in his head, preparing for the possibility of their need.

Wise, sensible words from Kurzon indeed. Unfortunately, the problem is that the intelligence of the average mob is easily found, by any metric, by taking that of its least intelligent member and dividing it by the number of folk in said mob. This usually doesn't bode well, but the appearance of a thick oaken cudgel from underneath the bar, held in the hands of the bartender, is definitely cause for concern even to the stupidest would-be drunk, inspiring a brief detente in the proceedings. Perhaps the time for preparation is over, and the time for action is now- but what, exactly?

Issi is confused, why won't people drink water if their thirsty? She writes her question down on a peice of paper, and gives it to the bartender, then looks around to find the two other beings who weren't rioting, going to ask them the same thing.

Kurzon wastes no more time waiting around, he departs for the merchant's guild, someone would have answers there. If it was a late shipment he'd go pick it up, if it was stolen he'd get it back...simple.

Falx makes his way in a slightly expedited manner to the bartender, placing himself between him and the crowd. He has already set on some dark math to use on this crowd should they attack. He doesn't want to actually hurt anyone, but will do what is necessary. Though, he does have one question, and he turns to the bartender to ask, "Are you aware of the reason behind the Merchant's Guild running dry?"

The hulking gorilla of a bartender scratches his head and tries to make his voice heard above the din. "Dunno. Went and asked last week, didn't have any. Went and asked again three days ago when the casks were running dry, still didn't have neither drink nor answer. If you're going to get answers, then try not to beat anyone up, or at least don't turn it back on me. I have enough trouble here as it is -" he folds up Issi's scrap of paper - "like this."

Issi sighs... Ignored. She is still confused, but not really wanting to speak, epsecially now when half the city would hear her... Maybe someone has a sign so she doesn't have to?

Issi sighs... Ignored. She is still confused, but not really wanting to speak, epsecially now when half the city would hear her... She wanders off after Kurzon.

Falx nods to the bartender, and then turns to Issi, doing something that he almost knows he shouldn't: He places an arm on her shoulder. "Personally, I prefer water," he states before looking out to see Kurzon making his way out. "The source is more related to the Merchant's Guild, so we should investigate there." He begins to make his way there, although stops and looks back to Issi. "Come, we shall discover the source and remedy this." If Issi would follow, he would slowly guide her through the crowd and to the exit, making their way to catch up with Kurzon towards the Merchant's Guild.

The Merchant's Guild, predictably, is down by the maritime district where much of its business can be handled with ease. Almost as large and imposing as the Freeswords' in size and stature, the three-storey building is mostly dark at this hours, but a few lights can be seen burning beneath the shutters over some windows. Not the best hour for visitors, perhaps, but one could consider knocking. The front entrance looks securely barred and it's unlikely that calling would produce any discernable effect, but there's a side entrance somewhere off by the waterfront.

Kurzon wearig his fighter's soul, has no time or patience for doing anything that is not direct and showing of results so unlatching one of his hammers he raises it and bashes it against the frame of the main doors three times. There, nice and loud, frame shaking without doing more than potential cosmetic damage.

Issi wanders up behind Kurzon, looking for a window to peek in. She writes to Kurzon (Has the river dried up? Why are people complaining about lack of beverages?)