The first test of this business model... has been trying.
To say the least.
Only one fellow claimed to have building experience, but I shouted until everyone started putting trees in the ground. First priority was a fortified courtyard-- er, Biergarten.
The smith started smoothing the rock bits to making a dining room floor. I know he's no mason, but he's short and fat like a dwarf, so why not?
The innkeeper made a stew with a double helping of alcohol, the traders liked it so much they gave us a pick and two ropes -- for the well and for a guard dog. Well, cat.
Awww, isn't that a cute cat?
(picture taken ex post facto)
Anyway, rooms got finished above and dwarfy ap Smith dug us out a cellar below. I tried to outfit the rooms with weapon racks to look appropriately "adventuresome" but most were mere closets, and the first wave of fools came near immediately.
Not a weapon among them.
They seemed to enjoy the hospitality, and after a few boasts got into quite the brawl... Rather than deal with that nonsense I encouraged them out the door against the dragon. I had a bit of their money already... I started knocking together a few coffins.
None lasted more than a moment. It was gorier than I predicted. Flaming bodies...
Our farmer, and one of the peasant women insisted they be collected and buried properly. They burnt up as well. Thankfully the dragon returned to its little valley. Its alligator henchman, however, menaced from across the drinking pond.
I had the two lumberjacks and the smith take it out, since they had the most weaponlike appliances. One lumberjack returned. The innkeeper was foully upset, she was the sweetheart of the dead lumberjack, and she trashed her kitchen and still. I'm embarassed to say I was similarly frustrated, and kicked down the trade depot. Both started pestering me to talk about my feelings, and my memories of the dead fools... I claimed the best room upstairs to get a bit of privacy.
We numbered 7, again. Me, the builder, a lumberjack, the innkeeper, a peasant woman and two children. Not an optimal distribution.
The peasant woman had come alone, and was relatively unscarred by the tragedy. I handed her Smithy's pick, and set her to pick up his work. Namely, digging holes in the ground for these coffins. (I made a few more coffins) I told myself I wouldn't treat her as Smithy II, but it's inevitable...
The innkeeper came to shout at me again, her beau's corpse was going foul across the field. She insisted that "our own" be buried separately from the fool adventurers... but it was too late, someone had marked the coffins already.
Ok, I said, we'll put up some nice statues.
We put up some pillars. Sticks really.
To make matters worse, a horde of monkeys capered down the mountain, and took most of the poor sods' things.
*I* could have taken those things!
I went to the remains of the still and gulped down booze before Alle could boil it into stew. Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea.
I arranged to send a message and a package to the nearest local leader.
I knocked together a workbench and picked up what I needed...
Notice! All Adventurers!
The dragon One Sulostraza is dead! Come see the heroic resting place of the hero vanquishers! Try your hand aganst the very safe cave dwelling weaklings!
Join the new town militia!
... To be continued?
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Topic: Dragonslayers Inn(LSD) (Read 4798 times)