The Crown and Trident

Glasur Oakenshield sat in the corner of the tavern, his face subsumed by the hanging shadows cast by the few sparsely distributed candles. As the wind and rain hammered the small panes of the glass in the window next to him, the Dwarf's thoughts escaped the bustling scene of the town's only tavern ... away to the high peaks of his forefathers, to times-past and to revenge. He was forcefully returned to the present when three strange figures emerged through the bolted door, drenched in rain. The whole bar became silent, much as it had when he had entered the place. It seemed as though the local populace didnt see many people from outside of town, or perhaps they didnt want to have any prying eyes.

As the strangers ordered their drinks at the bar, the Dwarf turned his attentions to the tavern itself. It had seemed such a strange building from the outside. Three different styles of architecture merged together, suggesting that three buildings had been knocked together to create the largest building on the main street near the harbour. The smoke from an open fire had disappeared in the rains as soon as it emerged from the chimney, but the glowing flames and conversation had made the place seem slightly more alive than the rest of the town. Inside the building was equally queer. Three different wooden floors, at different elevations, made up the inside of the tavern. Besides this the swirling staff and the glowing hearth could have been found in any establishment in the Empire.

When he had first emerged into the common room of the tavern, he had moved towards the bar, consciously aware of the many eyes following his movement. The owner and proprietor of the tavern was a sour-looking fellow, with a greying beard. Glasur's attempts to engage in conversation with him were rebuffed and each question was answered by one of the three staff who bustled behind the bar. Far happier than their boss, they were quick to provide ale and a meal for the tired traveller, and had shown him to a room on the second floor of the building, with Relina, a buxom blonde barmaid, even offering some snippets of the history of the town. He had returned to his meal as soon as he had deposited his wares in the upper room. Of the roughly two dozen guests in the bar, three had made themselves known to the Dwarf, appearing interested in his merchandise. A half-elf named Terza, and her two human bodyguards, represented the Goldleaf Trading Consortium, a group of traders looking to negotiate a deal with the new Graf regarding the treasures that were believed to lie just off the coast. The conversation with Terza was quickly followed by one with a Matthias Creel (and three bodyguards), another representative of a trading house with similar interests to those of the half-elf, and determined to know as much about the Dwarf as his rival.

But as the Dwarf was finally rid of these commercial types, the three newcomers made their way to the table, and aware of the figure hidden in the shadows, said in confused unison: "May we join you?".