The Purple Goose Inn

Well Lupport certainly did not trust that little conniving half-Semitic. Just look at what it had as a bodyguard! An Ogre for Fate’s sake! As he glanced over at the brute, it chased down a little Halfling thief and slammed it’s club into a table until the culprit gave back what he had taken. Luppolt only wished it were the burglar himself.

He was getting caught up in the festivities though and the food sure looked delicious. He thought it best to head over to the Pig to ensure it was being cooked properly and to get a better look at the contraption they had erected over the fire to cook the swine in. It seemed overly complicated; why not just turn the spit by hand? It was making steam that entered pipes… it was pretty confusing. Then the cooks brought out a stepladder and began to pour juices over the pig. The juices collected in a large vat. They added spices, apple juice, lemons, oranges, sugar, onions, garlic – which boiled on a lower container than the pig. They ladled it out and brought it back to the pig to marinate it in.

He was sure getting hungry! He looked about – pleased with the operation, and spied a beautiful husky girl serving drinks and gave her a wink to get her attention with little success – so he finally just yelled out to her over the din of the crowd. He noticed the crowd was beginning to get rowdy – he saw the dwarf highwayman getting into a fight with a ring of Halfling on-lookers pressing in. He snorted in disgust. Then pinched the serving wench’s ass – that finally got her attention! What’s your name? No answer… “Well mines Lupport – you probably heard of me – I’m the hero who brought the bandits in.” No response… Figuring she’d be impressed with his size and strength, almost no woman could resist him… “Ya I got this wound in the battle.” Pulling up his tunic to show his impressive girth. “You want a drink or what?” She replied. Stonewalled again he thought.. “Ya ale wench.” As he downed the pleasantly bitter stuff he walked back towards the pig roast. The fight was spreading now and a couple of drunks fighting bumped the stepladder. Luppolt came to rescue the cook, and more importantly the marinade when he bumped into the side of the contraption and the entire thing started to fall.

Luppolt watched it all in slow motion horror. What had he done? The cook and ladle were the first to go in the fire – the vat of juices tipped then fell with a horrific splat. Then a volcanic whoosh of air was heard as it caught on fire! It immediately ran downhill towards “This Way Inn”, a blazing river of fire.


What moments before had just been chaos was now full blown anarchy! Halflings and humans both had seemed to become completely unhinged. Some were running away from the fire, some toward the fire, some were so stunned they could not move. at all. Then there was Hensel!
Hensel was raised in the streets and lived under the rule, “Never let a chaotic moment go to waste”. He headed inside to the tavern yelling “Fire! Fire outside! Get the buckets!”. At first the scullery help paid little attention from the scrawny halfling until they heard shouts of “FIRE” from outside. They too started a bucket brigade to put out the fire.
Outside, they were quickly finding that the spilled fat barrel quickly streamed down the hard packed clay toward the inn. Adding water only seemed to spread the flames on top of the water and make it flow faster. Ori flipped over a table and started to beat the nearest flames and seeing this, the Ogre bouncer did likewise.
Back inside, Hensel went up the stairs to the rooms of the way inn, trying each door as he went down the hallway. When he came to an unlocked one, he stealthily snuck in. An unwary traveller had left his door unlocked AND his baggage open. A quick search revealed a few coins and a secreted pouch in the lining of his bag. Hensel liked secrets!
Trying the next open door was not quite as successful. As he entered the room a gruff voice shouted “Who are you, and WHAT are you doing in my room!?” Hensel thought quickly ..“There’s a fire outside and I was instructed to warn all of the patrons.” It had worked down stairs … would it work here?
The dwarf eyed Hensel suspiciously, but Hensel quickly left the room before he could be questioned more. Sometimes running is the better part of valor.
Then a shot rang out!

The Purple Goose Inn

Luppolt may be clumsy and look big and dumb, but he certainly wasn’t stupid. This also wasn’t his first pig roast mishaps… Thinking quickly he kicked the vat of grease feeding the fire down the back end of the hill away from the Inn into the street. Then taking out his fire-hardened spear, he began to dig a trench in the clay in from of the stream of oil to divert it from the Inn. When the stupid dwarf highwayman drew a bucket from the well and threw it on the oil – only increasing the flow he screamed out at the dolt cease his current action and try to smother the flames. The short dwarf grabbed a table but it was too big for him. When the Ogre saw what the dwarf was trying to do – he grabbed the table easily and began to fan the flames with it… Ugh. –No Lupport cried out – smother it! The fire just seemed to spread more and more. Then they all heard the shot – Luppolt knew that it was the gnome immediately – and he ushered the dwarf to go help – he continued to put out the fire and explained that he would be over as soon as it was contained. The less idiot demis “helping” the better. And if case in point, he was able to direct most of the grease away from the Inn and finally the cooks came out of the kitchen to help. They at least knew how to handle grease fires.

Heading around the back of the Inn Luppolt headed towards the tinker’s wagon at a run. Someone tried to get in the wagon – but now were gone… Luppolt huffed his annoyance – he looked around suspiciously at all the little beggars – thieves, they were all thieves – why did they come to this shithole town? It just confirmed his beliefs about these demis! Speaking of which – where was that little rascal they saved and was now working with them – Hansel – ya never trust a Halfling.

The Purple Goose Inn

Not that Adjett didn’t trust halflings, but trusted that halflings would follow their nature, he watch as Hensel calmly walked toward the inn. The kind of calm that only was known by legendary heroes or legendary thieves, too calm for the likes of the chaos surrounding them. Adjett saw Hensel enter the inn and at that moment heard the tinkle of tiny bells and a loud “EERK!” Adjett was very familiar with both.
Adjett bolted for the stables. That was his wagon bells and Yittlby! More bells, more "KARK"s, the sound of breaking wood. Yittlby was protecting the wagon … as he was trained to do. He didn’t know if he was more afraid that someone had broken into the wagon or someone had hurt the orstridge.
As he rounded the end of the inn, Adjett saw a cloaked figure running away from his wagon, Yittlby glaring and eerking viciously in its direction. With his good hand, Adjett pulled and fired his flintlock and let it fall, catching itself on the chain attached to his waistcoat. A second pistol was drawn and fired in the general direction of the fleeing figure. He couldn’t see it well enough to hit it, but the shot might scare it anyway. Pulling up his spent pistol, he quickly went to calm the agitated bird and inspect his wagon for damage or forced entry.
Ori soon appeared, showing great concern, whether for Adjett, the bird, the wagon or the possibility that he wouldn’t get paid he was not sure. The big guy, Luppolt, showed up moments later rounding the inn from the back. A bit later, as the fires were under control and the bird was calming, Hensel arrived, showing his great concern at the pistol shot and the squawking bird. They decided to spend the night under the wagon tarp. Luppolt and Ori went back to the party and grabbed food and ale for Adjett and they settled in for the night.

The Purple Goose Inn

They packed up Adjett’s wagon and head out south towards Northfen. Luppolt had skirted the Dogger fen on his escape from Sintok. He had heard menacing tales about the fen and was not looking forward to passing this close to it. The first day and night passed uneventfully the dwarf and halfling had rather short legs and spent much of their travels on the wagon. Luppolt walked the entire two days and was getting pretty tired. He had not marched with the Militia more than two days a year and his work on the farm was more on the managerial end. When they came to the river, he was more than happy to throw a line in and catch some fish before the sun dropped. He was able to catch a couple fish and then take a short swim to relieve himself of the dust from the road. He helped Adjett secure the wagon as usual and asked a bit more about his craft as they ate the fish over a small campfire. Luppolt was rudely awakened by cries from the dwarf. He had stumbled into a thicket of deadly vines that had entwined his legs and was pulling him off into the night! Working together the odd trio slashed at the sentient vines and were pulled down into the woods where they saw the gaping maw rising out of the darkness. Stabbing and slashing they were at last able to free themselves from its clutches.

The Purple Goose Inn

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