Talor's Food and Ale in Tynook

1. Talor's Food and Ale in Tynook

   #1

   As you enter the smoky bar the smell of meat and ale assail you from all sides, it is still early evening but already the Tavern is bustling with activity. The Barkeep is busy filling tankards while the serving maids run from table to table, giving an adept slap of the hand now and again.
   
   The place seems very reserved, the crowds not yet drunk from an excess of beer, mostly patrons there for a meal.
   
   As you stride towards a seat snatches of conversation drift to your ear.
   
   From a table to your left a well muscled man with a long sword laid on the table is talking to a dwarf sitting opposite him, pausing only to drink from his pint. "I tell you there's a fortune to be made in the North, Solar is being over run by timberwolves at the moment, a job would be guaranteed. What do you think?"
   
   The dwarf seemingly oblivious to any thoughts at all apart from the haunch of venison in front of him grunts through a mouthful of the meat.
   
   Nearer to the bar a small man with a love of tasteless gold rings berates a young woman, his voice high pitched and nasal. "You know better then to think of seeing that woodcutters son, why, they say that the forest is crawling with all manner of creatures, werewolves no less and other strange creatures.."
   
   You sigh in sympathy for the girl who sits with her head down avoiding the mans gaze.
   
   Across from them an old woman complains to an old man who sits there nodding absently at the woman’s ramblings as they whistle threw her teeth. "Ah it's not right I tell you, his daughter goes missing and what does he do? Nothing, he is the Lord Mayor he could have the town guard to look for her, and talking about him, his new taxes......"
   
   As you reach your seat a serving girl approaches you. "What'll it be then?"

2. Talor's Food and Ale in Tynook

   #2

   You walk towards your usual table, it has been a hard day and you are tired and in need of some food and drink. The bar is empty at this time of day and conversations and mutterings fly across the room.
   
   A crash draws your attention before you can order. From across the room you see a two men facing each other, chairs and mugs lie on the floor. One has the look of a marked veteran, the other the touch of youth in his features.
   
   The young one stands with his back straight and seems furious at the older man. "It twas not my fault I tell you, I was awake at my post and I heard nothing! They came out of nowhere, all those damned trees how could any one see anything, the roads within this forest are no longer safe to travel even for an armed escort."
   
   The veteran seems taken aback at the vehemence in the young guards voice. "Then you failed at your job lad, we were hired to guard a caravan and failed." His voice rises as his own anger boils to the surface. "Do you know how hard it will be to find work now! We have been disgraced, and you then have the gaul to tell me that they ran away not on two feet but on four.
   Do you know how that sounds, and they ran as fast as wild dogs. It is not even a full moon lad. Lucky for you that you had the sense to shout for help, we may all be dead now."
   
   "They did run on four feet, I saw them." The youths shoulders slump, as he picks up a chair and sits again.
   
   An elf walks over from a nearby table and pats the youth on the shoulder. "Do not be too disheartened young warrior, in the forest it is told of strange illnesses that can turn the minds of men into that of a raging beast. It is also extremely hard to see within the canopy of the forest. We elves too can feel the change in the forest, what with the threat of these Edmancium raiders and now strange sightings being reported in the forest, we are all a little uneasy." He reassures the young man before helping them pick up the strewn plates and mugs.
   
   The attention of the crowd draws away from the scene as calm returns to the table. As you look round you can see that the unease is not limited to the three in the corner, all around people sit uneasy at their seats sipping at their drinks and eating slowly and grudgingly.
   
   The table next to you seats two men, both merchants by the look of their gaudy clothing, one feral faced and the other with too much weight and beads of sweat on his brow.
   
   "Times have become desperate." The thin man remarks to the other, glancing towards the scene of the incident. "It was a pity about Shad's caravan being raided like that, lucky he did not lose too much."
   
   The other mops his brow and interjects. "But he lost four guards. We should be more careful, hire more guards. Perhaps we should travel in groups. No, no that would be too big a target wouldn't it. Should we ask the lord for.."
   
   "Bahh, rubbish. Guards are two in a dozen, most you can hire today aren't worth the scraps under your feet. As to the lord, what would he do, send his own private guard as escorts, heh, no. We are the life blood of the four cities and we are becoming the targets of every bandit and thief in the forest, and what do the lords do, nothing! I tell you we should move from here, trade between the eastern lands and Solar. We are becoming isolated so far in the woods, blocked on all sides." The mans thin body shakes as he wheezes." The fat man nods energetically, between bites of food, at his every word.
   
   Your attention is drawn away by the serving maid as she drifts over.

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