Posts from Ad aspera

Almost immediately, Duncaniell comes across a local attraction – an entertainment establishment, apparently the very "Dragon's Maw." But considering that even if the door doesn't give him away, he will most likely encounter someone from the crowd of revelers – is it worth going in?

you can always decline and look for alternative ways to earn money.

- You're a shady character, for sure, - Krait clicked his tongue and waved a hand. - Fine, give me your brew. I've digested worse. But mark my words! If you poison me, you'll remain a debtor. And then I'll curse you too!
well go for strength

Unus was pleased with how the sermon went. Peering into his helmet and seeing only a rotten tomato, the paladin shook it out and smiled slightly. He found it amusing that those hooligans managed to land a vegetable in there. In the herald's speech, Antinish heard some interesting information. Since he received no alms from the residents, he decided to go to the blacksmiths' guild and find out if he would be suitable for the role of an apprentice.

— What a predicament... — Stepping out of the town hall, Kotori sighed heavily and rested her head on her palm, lost in deep thought.
Two weeks was a long time, and even after they passed, there were no guarantees that fruitful news would await her. On one hand, there might be no information about her husband in the town hall at all, but what could be even worse — falling into the depths of bureaucratic hell and waiting for results for even longer while her purse emptied day by day. As if hearing the woman's thoughts about financial difficulties, the voice of the Herald rang out in the sky, with news and job offers. There was only one catch: neither the blacksmith's craft nor work at the port were intended for a woman, and among the guards, she remembered only men. After thinking for a while, she decides to inquire about a certain "nacker". Surely the work isn't for one person alone, and if it proves to be too dangerous, she can always refuse and look for alternative ways to earn a living.

Unus is led to the head of the workshop – a bald and bearded man in his fifties, who seems to be the only one here not working – instead of a blacksmith's apron, he is dressed in a good woolen coat and oversees the workers, sitting at a table in the far corner of the forge. Only his powerful hands, now holding a pen, betray the fact that he is a man accustomed to hard work.
– So, you decided to hire on as an apprentice? Finally, you're going to do something useful instead of bothering people? Well, I won't refuse such an important person... Alright. We work in two shifts – from dawn to noon and from noon to sunset. You can take two shifts if you can handle it. But make sure that you work at least one shift every day – got it? A shift pays two silver and two copper coins. If you work hard and increase our output, you'll get a bonus. Are you ready to start tomorrow?
Requirements: strength and endurance 15+, agility 10+
If strength and endurance are greater than 20: +5 copper coins per shift.

Endurance check of 12: -1 to Endurance
Lethality: 15 (subtracted from Endurance). If the value is negative, it is multiplied by -1% and rolled.

Temporary effect: +10 to Strength checks, +100% melee damage (positive)
-5 to Dexterity checks, -25 melee accuracy, -25 melee dodge, -25% ranged dodge

-- So, how is it? -- the alchemist grabbed another vial, just in case. -- Did it work?

"Should I go in?" the elf thought, and immediately answered himself that yes, he could go in. To do this, he tried to find a less crowded spot nearby, ideally a completely deserted one, and materialize there. In this grotesque form, with a strange build, no one here would recognize Knuth, and although he was a little sorry to lose one layer of his disguise, in the current situation, it was probably enough. Dunkaniël pulled his cloak tighter, as if concealing his ugliness, and headed towards "The Gullet."

Watching the herald disappear from view, Kotori had nothing left to do but shrug and raise her eyebrows in thought before heading towards the designated location – the Drunken Boars tavern.

- Working with your hands is a sermon for your own soul, - said the paladin, responding to the head of the workshop's comment about his preaching activities. - Come tomorrow for the sermon. I will talk about the dangers of fornication. I am ready to start working tomorrow at dawn.

- Hmm... - Krait wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to catch his breath - it's good that the baked-and-fried one at least opened the window.
The sensations in the body were reminiscent of putting one foot on the threshold of clinical death, after which that very foot is broken by the door with all its might, and you fall on the porch like a sack of manure, realizing that you are not welcome here, and crawling along the dusty road back to life.
Krait looked around the poor, dilapidated hut, saw a couple of stools, grabbed them by the legs in one hand, and, grunting, triumphantly raised them above his head.
- As you can see.
Another heavy sigh.
- The feeling is like the urine of the Almighty. At least dilute it with cheap liquor.

At the entrance, a couple of burly fellows stop Duncaniel, scrutinize his goblin-like face, and, giving him a light tap on the nose as a precaution, push him into the tavern. Inside, there’s smoke, heat, and wild noise – Duncaniel finds it difficult to gauge the size of the hall, but it’s definitely not designed for such a crowd; there’s so little space that people are sitting on the tables. At first, he tries to tread carefully, trying to avoid spilled beer and dropped scraps that are abundant on the floor, but after getting bumped from behind by someone in the moving mass, he has to join the general flow. The people here are, on average, more decent than the ones the elf encountered on the street – many are dressed like ordinary, not-so-wealthy townspeople; you can see a few who look quite well-off, but it doesn’t seem like outsiders frequent this place. It’s hard to say what kind of place this is and what people come here for – some are drinking, some are eating, some are playing dice. And the scantily clad girls here are hardly just because of the heat.
Probably, if he wants to “relax” here, he should talk to the stern-looking man behind the counter.

"The Boars" is a decent and rather quiet place; after all, the guards swarming around should contribute to it somewhat. There aren't many people here – mostly dining guards or outsiders. The elder can be easily recognized by his clothes: he sits away from everyone, and his table is laid out in such a way that the guards in the entire hall are now looking at him like hungry dogs: two large pitchers of beer, a bottle of stronger liquor, plenty of bread and hot dishes. Noticing Kotori, without being distracted from eating and drinking, he greets her simply and honestly:
--Shotbe-nushshno?
Now she can examine him in detail: he wears an ordinary peasant caftan, hiding his sparse, graying hair; his straw hat rests on the bench, not interfering with anything. Beer has settled on his thin mustache, crumbs in his beard, and the earthy, broad-nosed face of the elder clearly doesn’t add to his attractiveness. He isn't too old, nor too fat; rather, he seems so because of his flushed face from drinking and stuffed cheeks.
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