A transcription of the conversation had in the Ilyingrad tavern on this night:
“I must say that these strange bunch we have around here at Ilyingrad are stirring up too much trouble my friends. It’s getting to be that time of the month again when we have one day that they all go wild about the barony. I tell you something’s wrong with them.” Exclaimed the bar keep, as he poured a few more rounds, shooting a glance toward the various sympathizers to the foreigners. “Take for instance when that hoity elf Eru somethin’ or rather, took our token Sauran, that derned fuzzy Connar, and the masked girl that’s been hanging about, all to patrol the forest one morning. The handful of them thought they would take on a bandit patrol by themselves, and got what was coming to them. These bandits aren’t stupid mind you, as they always sent out some of their best fighters as their scouts along the roads. They even sundered that Sauran, Bjernsen’s, great sword! Have you seen how big that guy is?! And still they were gotten the better of and ran back to town licking their wounds. Hah, bunch of rambunctious adventurers I say, should have picked up a trade instead!” The farmers round the tavern gave approving grunts to their skill in the fields, before taking another swig.
A voice from the tables declared, “It’s strange though, we haven’t had any problems from them northern Bandits for some time though, as that same day we all heard those green skins charging through the fields, not attack us, and set up quite the commotion in the North but haven’t bothered us since.” Some snickers come from those listening as if they didn’t have to ponder why those bandits won’t be bothering us for a while.
One of the farmers who witnessed the horde roll through the fields said, “I could have sworn some of those green skins weren’t exactly green though.”
“I’m almost certain you are right.” Huffed the barkeep.
“Apparently we do have some new bullywugs, ‘round about though. According to Asherah, and her no name fella’, these ones aren’t related to our local king. They just want to smash up the place apparently, just like my brother.” Squeaked a young child.
“At least I finally have a deal with someone for my Tinkle Tinctures, with Fabio and his crew.” the Survivorman, on one of his rare visit in town, laughed at his own brilliance. “He and those other strange persons are stimulating the economy I say.”
“You sir are equally strange.” Said the barkeep as he passed him a brew.
“Connar sure stimulated our economies before he left us.” Giggled a few of the barmaids through the tavern. A few of them men spat on the floor at that comment.
“If that Satyr hadn’t left of his own free will, I’m sure the Zestav would have found something else to convict him of in no time.” The barkeep said.
Shouts rose after those comments, and heavy bootsteps headed out the door, “Both of his heads should have rolled, we all know that miner was innocent!”
“Sure as the Masters are deaf, he was probably right about that.” The barkeep sighed.
“Atleast we have a new team to start protecting us miners more. Granted it’s only the weird green Leaf guy that nobody can talk to, our guardsman Pavlov, and that elf… Eruainon! That’s what he said his name was. Still… not much of a team to face all those things that come from the underground…” remarked an ever so slightly buzzed miner.
A disgruntled dock worker shouted from the back, “Why are you worried about the underground when we are almost to the raiding season?! The first of the Sauran boats has already come and robbed us, specifically a poor little fellow, and then run off without a scratch on them. Asherah at the very least thought to steal their boat, but they stole one of ours in return! That Fabio and his Peacock friend just huddled together in fear, while those other so called adventurers ran scared, how will we protect ourselves this summer!?”
“Hang the raiders, our own town guard must be more corrupt than usual even. I heard them talking about how one of their number was driven mad when this stranger he was meeting with died, more like turned to ash when they unmasked him. Our own Zestav can’t protect themselves, let alone us poor folk. Those adventurers that you keep talking bad about are the only answered prayer to have been bestowed upon us.” Countered another patron
With a huff the barkeep concurred, “You may just be right sir… They have proven themselves on occasion. Why, Brondo that hunter, took Connar, that wee masked girl, and errr… Eruainon and killed an Owlbear by the look of the pelt they drug back here.”
The dock worker piped up again, “Asherah, along with Non, Fabio, and Mr. Peacock even drove off an evil water spirit that attacked their newly acquired ship, I saw it just off the horizon through my spyglass. They have to be blessed by the Masters I tell you to face such creatures day in and day out for us.”
“Indeed, they even brought my prize bull to heel after he was stung by all these derned bugs flying about thanks to that Grand Heating that’s going on. Though they did have to use magic, haha, silly things could have just asked for my lassoes.” Remarked another farmer.
“There is that tiny green skin that has been wandering about with them too.” Another patron interjected, “Not very strong but useful and friendly as can be I tell yah. Why he was telling me the other day how he met a chicken that could transform into a human, and his musical companion. Poor creature does get bullied a bit too much though, if you ask me.”
“We are gonna need all of ‘em, before we know it.” Said a merchant rising to his feet. “They are always risking themselves to protect your sorry hides. A number went out on patrol, and the high elf, and one of the younger fighters, got captured by Dark Elves that ambushed them on the road. Connar was the only one that could track his friends down, while the hunter Brondo got a whole ‘nother group to rescue them. Apparently that bat changeling Nethylis, was able to get some quick spells off to free the two prisoners, but he himself got captured and left for dead in the woods by those blasted dark elves.” He took a final swig, “If any ten of you had an ounce of the courage inside one of em, I’d be shocked. In all my travels, not a single person would be willing to help you bumpkins up here in Nowhere Ratoss, not even your own Baron. Yet these ragtag adventurers fight and die to protect what semblance of a life you all have here. I’ll be glad to rid myself of you ungrateful lot come morning, and travel the safe roads they have made!” slamming his mug down the merchant headed up to his room.
“Last call!” Yelled the barkeep, though it was really too early to close up for a usual evening. “Head home to your families, get rested. There will be plenty of work, and brew for you tomorrow.” Under his breath he murmured with hope, “Maybe those adventurers can ensure we can always have a tomorrow to wake up to…”