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[lawastooshort]

"Bah, ale." Holdron looked on with disgust "Arbury you've made a poor mistake. Ale be a foul drink only useful when one is out of fine wine such as this!"

Steffan winced. Ale was one of the things he cared most deeply about.

"A foul drink, you say? It was a man of words far greater than I will ever be who said, if I recall, 'Blessings of the heart, ye brew fine ale'? It was, yes! Ale is wrongly disdained - an uncouth drink of the uncouth north, say those who have a fetish for the overcivilised south; and a weak watery waste by those who have a fetish for oblivion... No - there is little greater than the greatest of ales..."

He turns to Lady Bethany.

"Madam, we are not necessarily recruiting, but you look like you'd be worth the trouble of starting. You have met my particular friend, Ockerbie. He is a very learned man, and given his age can only become more so. Would you deign to eat with us? I can't vouch for everyone here, but I have a certain respect for those who are willing to turn away from... certain pleasures for the sake of a calling."

He nodded towards her glass of water as he added this last...

[Nerjin]

It was with a snarl that Holdron replied to this "Aye, and it was a fool who declared that your trash there was any good at all! Aye it works fine enough when ye have no wine or the other but I'll thank ye to not insult me nor me drink again lest ye be needin' a new use for yer mouth aft' I knock the teeth out of it." His anger abated slightly Holdron took another swift swig from his bottle before setting it on the table and pushing it towards Steffan "Here Arbury, I'll make ye a deal. Ye drink me fine wine here and I'll take a taste o' yer ale. Tha'll prove which is the better. If'n ye win I'll... buy a boat fer the lot o' us!"

[mainiac]

"Okay, but we are going to hold you to your word on that.  If he wins, you buy a boat for the lot of us.  I think that in order to be fair, if you win he will have to buy a boat for all of us."
It isn't entirely clear when the black cat started sitting on the table but she sat there as if she owned the place.
"In the spirit of companionship, I'm willing to pay the price of the drinks for the wager you two are engaged in."

[lawastooshort]

"Hoho! We risk having a boat of a quality somewhat worse than yon wine if you let me buy the bugger! But we can let that lie for now. Tell me, paladin, there's two of us. If we disagree, who shall break the tie?"

[Dwarmin]

Eli caught his friends eye, flashing a rare broad grin, though it passed quick enough

"Another battle in the war between the zythophiles and the oenophiles, eh Steffan?" He asked.

He had long grown accustomed to Steffans views on the subject, being his long timed drinking mate.

[Weirdsound]

Bethany quickly goes back to her water to hide another smile. "Very good. I was just going to paraphrase. Sounds like you quoted. I never bothered with the common translation of that tome myself. Celestial just has a way of making words of wisdom all the more profound."

The Paladin pauses in thought. "This is the common tongue though. All it has going for it is that everybody speaks it."

"Proper burial? What are you on about lass? We're out ta save pumpki- No... We're tryin' ta capture monkeys or some such righ'? Well I'm off to help a priest with his holy water. If ye don' mind me askin, why not help us wit' tha'? Yer a paladin righ'? Wouldn't preventing future deaths be more important than gettin' the dead? They stay dead so they ain't goin' anywhere." Holdron seemed to be somewhat annoyed at the idea of ignoring the living in favor of the dead "Plus it pays better. We can use that money to buy things to help bury the dead better right?"

Bethany turns to the old man. "They could still be living. For their sake we cannot afford not to find out. There is no guarantee the holy water fixes anything anyway."

---

"Madam, we are not necessarily recruiting, but you look like you'd be worth the trouble of starting. You have met my particular friend, Ockerbie. He is a very learned man, and given his age can only become more so. Would you deign to eat with us? I can't vouch for everyone here, but I have a certain respect for those who are willing to turn away from... certain pleasures for the sake of a calling."

Lady Bethany considers for a few seconds, nods. "I would be glad to dine with your group. Let me retire briefly to get out of my armor, and to avoid witnessing the indignity of your little drinking game, and I shall return. Order for me something local caught from the river if the time to order arises before my return."

[Nerjin]

"Hoho! We risk having a boat of a quality somewhat worse than yon wine if you let me buy the bugger! But we can let that lie for now. Tell me, paladin, there's two of us. If we disagree, who shall break the tie?"

"Pah, the lass doesn't even drink and is intoxicated on her mission. I say if we disagree we 'ave the others dragged inta this. Now stop stallin' and drink fore I lose my patience. I'll go aft' you."

[mainiac]

Bethany turns to the old man. "They could still be living. For their sake we cannot afford not to find out. There is no guarantee the holy water fixes anything anyway."

"You truly have hope for their well being... don't you?  I was before inclined to look into the local woods but you make this cause seem quite urgent."

[Dwarmin]

Bethany quickly goes back to her water to hide another smile. "Very good. I was just going to paraphrase. Sounds like you quoted. I never bothered with the common translation of that tome myself. Celestial just has a way of making words of wisdom all the more profound."

The Paladin pauses in thought. "This is the common tongue though. All it has going for it is that everybody speaks it."

"I remember the Celestial Hymns...they were considered only worthy to be sung on the Holy days...very beautiful. I fear the times have somewhat soured my sense of reverence, however..." He said, taking a breath of old memories.

"I'd say I could never do Celestial justice, even if all I learned were the curses...but I'm a common man-such words are for more...beautiful souls than mine to speak." He mused. Angels did indeed have colorful insults, it turned out. "I can speak the language of the Auran, but when's that ever going to come up, right?"

[Weirdsound]

Lady Bethany nods at Eli, and mutters a few words in Celestial.

"It means farewell for now. I will return shortly."

With that the Paladin rises and returns to her camp/room to change. Alone she lets down her hair an dons a well worn set of travelers clothes, marked as such by rips, stains, and mold.

(Will jump back in after the drinking contest concludes.)

[Dwarmin]

Eli nods back, closing his eyes and making a strange whistling, ringing, flowing sort of language back at her. Sort of like a human windchime, to put it roughly.

"...and that means 'I will wait a thousand years for you' in Auran. It's meant to be somewhat sarcastic, I believe." He smiles, then turns his head, hand on his scar.

[lawastooshort]

"Master Paladin, keep your patience..."

Steffan pours himself a glass of Holdron's... wine, raises it, and takes a sip.

"I'll raise a glass to any man civilised enough to raise one back."

He very quickly downs the rest, hoping to avoid any contact with any taste buds left after the sip - more to desperately hold onto the ability to taste for the next several weeks rather than to not taste the acrid gutrot he can feel burning through his tongueflesh. Still, he reflects, he's had worse. Except that was actual, rather than metaphoric, cough medicine, and although it had cured his cough he hadn't been able to get out of bed for a month.

"Very..." he searches for the right word. Nutritious? Flammable? Useful for clearing weed-infested gardens? "Very strong..."

[Remuthra]

"MANY THANK. LOOK FOR MONEY, BRING BACK TO TRIBE."

The giant raises the barrel of ale.

"FOR HONOR AND LUCK. FIND MISSING ADVENTURERS. BRING BACK, YES. GOOD!"

[lawastooshort]

"Crikey. Am I hungover from that wine already? Or do you actually talk that loud?"

Steffan turns more obviously towards the giant and raises a glass. Ale.

"You have a strong voice, friend. To honour and luck - many a man said there's nothing more important. You know, Holdron," he adds, turning to the old paladin, "This is nonsense. You let me call your wine cursèd..."

He pauses for a second for something polite. Words almost fail him.

"...Cursèd gutspume, and I'll let you call my ale fetid weaselpiss, and we'll buy each other a boat. You name yours The Ale, and I'll call mine The Wine. Fair?"

[Grek]

Lady Bethany and Rohan:
At the temporary headquarters of the Royal Navigator's Guild (currently a warehouse at the docks) the two of you find a brief note posted on the chalkboard in the window, just below the notice about the missing expedition:

"Out to Lunch at Inn, Back Soon."

After a quick trip up the road and a brief inquiry with the innkeeper, you locate the table at which the Royal Navigator is enjoying his fish. He seems an unlikely sort, an elderly gnome of unusually small stature and dressed in a purple robe, but on his pointed hat is the lamp-in-the-ship-wheel symbol of the Navigator's Guild.

Upon hearing your introduction, the gentlegnome seems highly impressed, and perks up immediately upon hearing that you wish to rescue the lost expedition.
(1d20+9=25 to Diplomacy; Navigator is now Friendly toward you)
"Oh, thank goodness you've come! Yes, both of you, sit, sit. I'll tell you all I know about the expedition..."

With teary eyes, he introduces himself as Irving Wiffle, the great-uncle of Melody Wiffle, the leader of the missing expedition. It appears that Melody, her husband Xyloph, a pair of halflings and their dour elven guide, Alamanthus, had departed two months ago intending to seek out the elven village their guide assured them was somewhere along the southern fork of the river. They have neither returned nor send word back, and Irving suspects that she was captured by the ghoul tribes or worse.

"Please, kind paladin! I beg you, return my niece to me, or at least... at least let me bury her in peace!"

Morazin:
The bartender informs you that the canoes are out back, and that you may borrow one for free, so long as you and your crew sign for it first.

Steffan:
(1d20+8+2=23 to Gather Information; subtract 2 gold for the cost of all the alcohol)
Your generosity does not go unrewarded: Several strapping young orcs toast your name and, after the round is drank, come over to your table to offer their services and advice.

Most of them are full of wild speculation about the dangers of the jungle and the various grisly fates that might have fallen the Expedition, claiming to have seen dire tigers, snakes longer than your table is round and even dragons out in the wild. The few credible claims are the solemn reports of the red aches, blinding sickness and ghoul fever along the river, carried by the filth, mosquitoes and the occasional stirge attack.

Most of them agree that 5 silvers a day would be a "fair" price for risking such dangers to subdue the no doubt ferocious beasts in the jungles, but you get the feeling that with a little luck and a bit more drink, you could talk them down lower. One particularly shady individual offers to sell you blue whinnis roots ("guaranteed to put any beast to sleep!") at the allegedly "low low price" of 50 gold each.