Hole in the Wall Tavern

[Firebird]

The name aptly fits the dwarves drinking club. The drinking club is open to any dwarves now, but it previously had been a private club for the miners. They grudgingly allow strangers now, but they will look you over. Now the halflings that visit have their own separate room. That is not because of discrimination on the dwarves part, but because most halflings cannot stand being around a drunk dwarf. They can stay in the main part of the pub, however, if they want to.

The tavern's dirt walls are covered with a sort of wooden paneling tacked up when the club opened to all dwarves. The attempt to make the tavern look more sophisticated fell flat on its face because drunken dwarves throwing darts had made hundreds of holes in the paneling, where dirt creeped in making the place even more dusty and dirty.

Behind the long 3' high oak table which served as the counter, a middle-aged male dwarf named Sam'strug filled mugs with dark dwarf ale. That's about all you can get here. The huge casks in the back room are almost the size of a male dwarf, so you would see two or three customers helping put out a new keg, which would usually be empty by the end of the night.
A sign above the bar reads "Ain't nothin' but Dwarf Ale served here, 2 silvers a mug"

There are 2' height stools at the bar and a few large tables with benches.

[Coulter Minith]

Timestamp: The First Brightening, in the Month of Pontius, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

After gaining lodges at the modest Pickaxe Inn and Boarding House and placing what little processions the young dwarfen warrior processed within this rented room, Coulter Minith soon found himself thinking about the mission he was here to accomplish. This mission had nothing to do whatsoever with the military, or indeed a mission that would in anyway shape or form effect the outside world, but it was a mission that the young member of the dwarfen race believed he needed to accomplish in order to go on with life.

It was for this mission, or need you could say, that had forced the four-foot tall dwarfen male to travel miles around the wilderness of the Centripax Province of the Aelyrian Empire from the small City of Natura in the dead of winter. The young dwarf whom had not yet lived half-a-dozen decades upon the face of Aelyria had found himself feeling homesick and in need of friendly company and a few mugs of dwarfen ale that could only be found within the company of his fellow kinsmen.

Therefore with a purse heavy with coins and dry lips to match, the young dwarfen adventurer using a seemingly natural dwarfen ability of finding ale no matter where they were, soon found himself entering the Hole in the Wall Tavern. The Hole in the Wall Tavern had all the sights and sounds one would except to find within a dwarfen drinking hole and Coulter Minith could not help but smile. With an unusual smile upon his bearded face, the young dwarfen male would head towards the bar and place two silver coins upon the bar for a mug of good old fashion dwarfen ale.

Upon being handed his first mug of dwarfen ale of the night, Coulter Minith in a time honoured dwarfen tradition would down it in one before slamming his mug upon the bar and shouting for another. Taking his time with his next drink of the night, savouring the unique taste of dwarfen ale, the young dwarfen male would look around the tavern for a fellow dwarf or two to start a conversation with.

As the old dwarfen saying goes, ‘if you want to know what happening, head towards the nearest smell of ale.’

[Firebird]

You haven't been here afore, have ye, Sam'strug yelled to the young dwarf who immediately downed his first glass of ale in a hearty manner. After filling his second mug, Sam'strug grunted his approval. Business was just starting to get going and Sam'strug could use a sturdy back to help carry in a new keg. Pulling a half drunk stout dwarf off a stool. he steered him to the back room and motioned for Coulter to follow. August, he yelled at the other dwarf, get yer back in it man! He pointed to Coulter, you look strong, grab the back end.

[Coulter Minith]

The taste of dwarfen ale was the creator of the dwarfen race, Cetheron, way of favouring the dwarfen race over every other race upon the world of Aelyria, or so Coulter Minith thought while savouring the taste of his second mug of dwarfen ale. It was for a taste of dwarfen ale, and for that reason alone, that the four-foot tall dwarfen male had travelled miles across the Centripax Province of the Aelyrian Empire during the dead of winter. A trip that while short in distance was still filled with numerous dangers and threats to a sole traveller, even an experienced dwarfen warrior like Coulter Minith.

Pointy earred elves and short-lived humans could keep their wines and foamy beers, nothing in the opinion of the black-bearded dwarfen male’s opinion could, or would ever, beat the taste of good old fashion dwarfen ale on a parched tongue after a hard brightening graft, or for that matter before starting a hard brightening of graft. Taking another healthy swing of his second mug, which was now half empty, Coulter Minith felt his mood lightening as the smooth and comforting aftertaste of dwarfen ale started to settle upon his bearded head.

Very much planning on making himself at home within the Hole in the Wall Tavern upon a normal size bar stool for once, Coulter Minith was soon forced to leave the comfort of his new found home in order to aid a fellow dwarf. Unlike the majority of races within Aelyria the dwarfen race was as a race very close-knit and family orated. This somewhat unique arrangement was as a direct result of the history of the dwarfen race; where in the mountainous environment of their homeland had resulted in the dwarfen race coming to understand that they could only truly really rely upon themselves for aid during time of crisis.

Therefore with a good-humoured smile upon his dwarfen face, the young dwarfen drinker stood up and headed towards the back room to help a fellow. While heading towards the back room to grasp the other end of the keg Coulter Minith would say. ‘Serale, me bee Coulter Minith.’

[Firebird]

Sam'strug, August, and Coulter lugged the keg to its rightful place right behind the bar. After carefully setting it down, Sam'strug pounded Coulter on his back. Strong back you got there, Ye say you're of the Minth clan, seems to me I heard of yer clan. Are they from Dargis. Then he pounded on Coulter's back, now I know ye, yer the lad who was appointed the Thane of Zerdargia. Other patrons had come in during his conversation with Coulter. Hey, yer never gonna believe this, he yelled out, we got a genu ine hero here. Coulter Minith brave officer of the Daltina militia and former Thane of Zerdargia. He grabbed Coulter's mug and refilled it, then grabbed a mug for himself and toasted, clanging his mug against Coulter's. "yea a gen u ine hero, welcome to you, Coulter Minith, yer money ain't no good in her". The other dwaves joined in, if there was free ale to be had, then they wanted in on it.

[Coulter Minith]

A former Thane of Zerdargia..? Genuine Hero of the Empire and the Dwarfen Race..? Sure no one could argue that the four-foot tall former dwarfen soldier had done his duty, the lands formerly under his protection where safe and the daily life of the citizens of the Aelyrian Empire continued without threats of war, disease and/or hunger; numerous orcish corpses were clear evident of that achievement. However what actually special achievement had Coulter Minith done that wasn’t excepted from a Child of Cetheron in these troubled times.

Although free dwarfen ale was FREE DWARFEN ALE, like any true warrior past and/or present, no matter their race or gender Coulter Minith would live and die by his own actions and reputation. A warrior’s reputation, more likely than not, would get a warrior killed. For a reputation would live long in the hearts of friends and opponents alike eras after a warrior was killed and it was a powerful weapon in the arsenal of a warrior, a reputation could win a fight before a battle had even been joined; worth defending and certainly worth dieing for.

Wasn’t it not Coulter Minith whom had led numerous assaults upon the defences of the Fortress of Malice? Wasn’t it not this particular Laird of a ‘minor’ clan whom face the dreaded leader of the SHC orcish tribe, the name of the leader of the SHC Haz was currently unknown to the young dwarfen male, to a standstill and forced him to retreat and abandon his own assault upon the camps of the military forces of the Enamoira Province of the Aelyrian Empire? These actions were what the black-bearded dwarfen warrior had accomplished, and it was upon these actions that Coulter Minith had created his reputation and was proud of.

Therefore for his reputation the fiercely proud dwarfen warrior would be a true dwarf to the end of his brightening and wouldn’t lie to his own brethren about what he had accomplished and their mistakes about his past. However deciding to inform a room of drinking dwarfs of their mistake was harder than it seemed. For although his name was known in certain small corners of the Empire, Coulter Minith was still young in eras in terms of the dwarfen race, and somewhat embarrassed by the actions and words of his elders.

However, being embarrassed was not a dwarfenly excuse and certain not part of the way of the warrior. Therefore with a silent pray to Cetheron Coulter Minith would force himself to be heard over the increasing noise, and drunkenness, that filled the Hole in the Wall Tavern, and would speak. ‘It heartens mee soul to bee around mee kinsmen and brethren during these troubled times.’ With these words the black-bearded dwarf would lift his tankard up in silent salute of his kinsmen and brethren within the tavern. ‘But nee Thane of Zerdargia was aye…slaver of green skins and other ancient foes aye is true. But aye need many more notches of mee blade to catch up to Sam'strug here and mighty August and bee called a true hero of ancient times. So aye say like not celebrate meeself but Sam’strug and August and all dwarfs throughout the lands.’

With these final words the young laird of Clan Minith would down his second tankard of dwarfen ale of the night and hope his speech when down as well as his ale.

[Firebird]

Aye, me lad, said Sam'Strug, there is much to be sad about among dwarfen life here in Dargis. Greedy mine owners keep the workers poor and the miserable conditions in the mines has cost many a struggling miner to lose his life ... but one day those greedy bar stards with learn their lesson. Tis time all the hardworking blokes here got a little for their hard and dangerous work, so Coulter Minth, yer welcome here to raise a mug with us any time yer around town.

He took a big swig of his ale and continued his tirade, "Three dwarfs were killed late last brightening from a cave-in at the Studdard's Mining Company shafts. There's shafts back there that haven't been shored up for many patterns. The funeral cortage will be leaving tomorrow morning to travel to Zerdargia. Then they'll be trussed up proud by the mortician and buried as befits 'em."

[Coulter Minith]

Listening to the latest news of events happening within the darkness of the underdark, the young laird of Clan Minith couldn’t help thinking that although having only spent a brightening within the darkness of the underdark, this was the second time he was hearing news of the Studdard brothers. Therefore having already planned on investigating the rumour of a section of the Dolwood disappearing, which Coulter Minith was sure involved the brothers of Studdard, the young black-bearded dwarf decided to start his investigation somewhat earlier than planned.

After downing what was left of his dwarfen ale and bowing his bearded head in honour of those three dead dwarfen miners, Coulter Minith using his past experiences investigating crimes upon the streets of Daltina and his general knowledge about the dwarfen race, would start his investigation here in the Hole in the Wall Tavern. ‘Aye’ve heard of these brothers of Studdard…local celebrates by the rumours aye heard of them. Aye’ve heard good things about young Gard Studdard, thought he was the brains behind the mines and too smart by half to let something like poor workmanship stop mining operations.’

While saying these words, the now emptied handed dwarf would indicate to Sam'Strug a refill would be welcomed. ‘Perhaps aye’ve heard wrong..? Bad for business deaths, and poor mining shafts ye say…what ye got around here anyway, aye remember the gems of Daltina never seen better in me six decades of life. Ahhh…’ These words where all planned by the young dwarfen investigator to release the emotions of the highly emotional dwarfen people, and perhaps get someone to say something new and relative to his investigation about the disappearance of the Dolwood and the four Studdard brothers.

Having hopefully injured the mining pride and reputation of Dargis, the young dwarfen male waited patiently for someone, probably a drunk, to take the bait and perhaps speak about something important without thinking about his/her words.

[Firebird]

What ye say, yelled August, ye bloody crazy ye are. Those Studdards are a disgrace to dwarfdom, cept maybe Jiggs. Yeah, they would sell their own mother for 20 silvers, and that Gard, yea he's smart, but he is as tightfisted as a bloody miser. Not only has he as much as killed those men, he won't even pay for their funeral. All the miners pitched in a crown or two so they'd git a fancy burial.

Sam'Strug took his hand off of Coulter's shoulder. "Yer crazy .. ye go talkin' that way and I'm a thinkin' yer an upstanding citizen, but not if ye try justifyin' them .."

[Coulter Minith]

The typical reactions of Sam’Strug and the other customers of the Hole in the Wall Tavern were everything the young black-bearded dwarf had been hoping and looking for. However, the information gained by using a technique that alienated his current free source of information without gaining anything new to the hairy ears of Coulter Minith wasn’t worth it, and another plan of action was going to be needed in order for something previously unknown, something previously unheard by the young dwarf to be said.

Therefore as his first idea had failed so spectacular in gaining anything previously unknown about the four brothers of Studdard, and having alienated his fellow customers, the experienced dwarfen investigator decided to change tack and agree with his dwarfen brethren about their personal views and thoughts about the Studdard brothers. In order to accomplish this task and put his dwarfen kinsmen at ease once more, Coulter Minith would raise both hands in the air, the universal sign of surrender, and smile in an apologetic way towards his fellow dwarfs.

Through this action the young dwarfen adventurer had hopefully placed his comrades-in-pub at ease in order to continue his investigate by asking more questions in his usual low rumbling voice. ‘Aye surrender; aye surrender…hahahaha…perhaps ye re right, as aye said aye didn’t know them meself, just going on what ye heard about the them and this place, perhaps aye heard wrong. Aye’ll have to agree with ye personal experiences of them.’ Taken a somewhat quick breath of pub quailty air the young dwarf continued. ‘Aye was always under the impression that the mines of Dargis were rich veins of ore and precious gems, so why the brothers sooo tight-fisted, doesn’t seem dwarfen to me. I even heard a rumour that the brothers of Studdard were expanding their business into the Dolwood, seems all four were seen there a cycle ago, and ye all know how race that is.’

Having turned the conversation in the tavern back onto the right tracks, Coulter Minith would listen intensely to the replies and answers given by his fellow customers and barkeep without hopefully letting on that he was really interested in what they had to say about the brothers of Studdard.

[Firebird]

Coulter tried to backtrack but the mood had been broken, if he thought he was going to get anything more out of the dwarves, he was mistaken. The grumbling continued about the Studdard Brothers. "Let's hoist a few for our brothers." they cried. Mugs were filled all around as one after another the dwarfs saluted their fallen friends.

Coulter was ignored in part because of his remarks, and part because each dwarf was remembering his comrades. Through hundreds of patterns the drinking club had held wakes for fallen miners. Their grief was very real for roots ran deep with these miners. Their fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers through many centuries had worked these mines for one mineowner or another. Some were good, and some like Studdard were no friend to the average dwarf. The clan affiliations were so intertwined in this all dwarven city, that almost everyone could lay claim to some kin who had died untimely deaths. There was no frolicking or merriment now.

It would be wise for Coulter to leave their midst, for their grief could turn ugly the more they drank. Coulter, though he wished to be a part of them, was still an outsider. It would take more than lifting a mug with them to win their trust.

[Coulter Minith]

Noticing with the ease of a trained warrior, who had been trained to always be aware of his ever changing surrounding, knew instantly that the friendly and welcoming atmosphere within the Hole in the Wall Tavern had forever changed. The harden dwarfen warrior known as Coulter Minith was also aware that his actions and words alone had caused this change, and he couldn’t help feeling somewhat sad at the lost chance at socializing with his own kinsmen and brethren.

During his few short eras spend travelling throughout the Aelyrian Empire after the destruction of his clan, the black-bearded dwarfen adventurer had had few opportunities to interact with his own race, and seemed to have spend more time killing every member of the greenskins race he came upon; to gain a certain amount of vengeance for his lost blood kinsmen. However although he wanted to spend more time with his own race discussing other matters Coulter Minith knew when he wasn’t wanted, and could tell that his fellow drinkers wanted to mourn in with themselves; fellow Dargis miners.

Quickly finishing what was left of his drink, Coulter Minith would say, ‘Me heartfelt sorrow of ye lose, aye will leave ye to ye thoughts and memories.’ With these few words of comfort, the black-bearded dwarf would stand up and leave the Hole in the Wall Tavern perhaps to return at some later brightening.