From: jcarl@jabba.ess.harris.com (Mr. Briggs)
Subject: [Mor-Ganth] Mr. Briggs house.  Let's Talk payment
Organization: Harris Corporation - ISD
Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 21:01:50 GMT

>>     The dwarf decides it's time he said something about that poem of 
>>Cranach's.  'I seem to remeber a poem much like the one you just recited.
>>De end ad ta do with de accomplishing de bypassing of dose dere obstacles 
>>my boy.  Nothin bout the netherhells.  Me memory is a little foggy bout de 
>>piece of writing.  I may be wrong.  As for rewards, all I want is to be able 
>>to sit me older upon dat dere throne in de keep' mentions the dwarf.  As he 
>>quietly watches for dem dere reactions.

Mr. Briggs was having a hard time understanding the Dwarf with his thick
accent. He was about to ask the dwarf to repeat himself when Cranach leapt
to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor behind him.  He got right up
into the Dwarfs face and spoke in a barely controlled rage through
clenched teeth.

>	"What in the name of all that is evil do you
>	know about the dark realm ? Where would
>	you have picked up that little piece of
>	poetry, my good sir !  Perhaps, you
>	of no name, are a black dwarf ---the
>	type that eats small children for breakfast
>	stuffed with  roasted orc entrails ? "

>	"I can assure you , if you are a Black
>	dwarf, then you and I must meet, this
>	night, and have done with it !"

Cranach stood with his back to the rest of the group.  Mr. Briggs was now
holding a dagger in his left hand.  Not sure what was happening here, nor
sure who to help out in case it came to blows.  Barnabus remained seated
and his confusion could easily be mistaken for fright.

In an effort to save his newly formed group he found himself saying

>	"uuuuugghhhh,.....", Briggs said as he cleared his 
>	voice.

>	"Gentlemen, gentlemen, let us not begin our quest
>	at each other's throats!. Let us instead retire
>	to my lodgings, where we can further our 
>	discussions, in a more discreet manner."

Barnabus quickly got down from his stool, trying to set an example with his
calm demeanor.  He had put his dagger away as he talked and now folded his map
back up.  He walked out of the back room as best he could with his bad right
leg, it always got stiff when he sat too long.  He didn't wait to see who was
watching from the inn as he left.

Barnabus didn't even think of tipping the bartender for his assistance in
gathering this group.  The bartender didn't really earn his money, for this
group would probably kill itself before they even got to the Troll Mountains.

'I know Dwarves and Elves don't like each other much. But if we are to
survive we will need both of their skills.  The dwarf for his skill underground
and the elf for his stealth as well as his knowledge of the underdark.' Barnabus
thought as he headed towards his home.

Barnabus took a right outside of the inn and then his first left across the
stream.  The bridge was quite stable and well maintain.  The sound of the
stream flowing under the bridge made Mr. Briggs want to pitch some stones.
But business kept him walking across and past the General store.  He took the
next right down a path that led to his home.

It was a Locksmiths shop.  Mr. Briggs was a specialist with Locks, and he made
the best locks available for quite some distance.  He ran the shop with his
cousin Bartholemew Mulwiggins.  Bartholemew would run the store while Mr. Briggs
was out adventuring.

He unlocked the front door and opened it.  The door looked enormous
with Barnubus opening it, despite it being a regular door.  A bell rang to
alert the occupants as to the presence of a customer.  "It's just me
Bartholemew" Mr. Briggs said as he entered.  "We'll be having company tonight
for three".  He held the door open as Dayhvn Gray entered, followed by
the Dwarf, and Cranach not too far behind.  

The room he entered had a long counter across the room where a merchant
would normally be found.  The counter was strewn with metal pieces and tools
that look like a watch-maker had gone made.  A door behind the counter led
to the back rooms and living quarters.  Mr. Briggs walked under the swing
bar of the counter.  "Bartholemew and I will use his room,  Cranach and Gray
can use mine, and Sir Dwarf you make room for you in the guest room."

Gray cleared the metal parts and tools from the swing bar and lifted it so
he could follow Briggs into the back room.  The Dwarf and Cranach were still
angry but neither were saying anything to each other yet.

Mr Briggs showed each to their rooms.  "The kitchen is just down the hall.
Help yourself, to any food or drink you might need.  Please don't stray into
rooms I haven't prepare for you.  I'd be most embarrassed if that were to
happen"  He said.  "When you are all comfortable come on out here to the
sitting room, and we'll discuss our adventure."

The others went to their rooms to get settled for the night, while Barnabus
and Bartholemew scrabbled around in the kitchen and prepared the sitting room.

Finally Barnabus was ready and sat down in the sitting room and lit a pipe.
Bartholemew was making tea, and crumpets would soon be served.  He just waited
for the rest to join him in the sitting room to discuss rewards and
objectives.

Cranach and Gray were the first to return from their chambers. "Please, do
have a seat and get comfortable."  Just then the Dwarf entered. "You too, have
a seat, Barthowlemew will be out with crumpets and tea soon."

As they all got settled a fairly tall skinny halfing with blonde curly hair
entered the sitting room.  He was holding a tray with a tea pot and some cups
on it.  Crumpets and bread cakes arrayed around the platter.  "I would like you
all to meet my cousin Barthowlemew."

"You all can call me Bart, Briggs here can get a bit pretentious at times." He
said as he winked at Mr. Briggs.

Mr. Briggs scowled a bit and proceeded "Barthowlemew, this is Cranach Wynn,
and this is Dayhvn Gray, and this is..., Whoops I still don't know your name
Sir Dwarf?"

Mr Briggs waited politely for a response from the Dwarf.


--
Joe Carl Jr.               "It ain't what a man don't know that makes him a
jcarl@jabba.ess.harris.com   fool, but what he does know that ain't so."
                                                           -- Josh Billings