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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 7469035" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Let us start with a sign, or rather, the story of a sign. As with every story, it changes with each telling, and with the passage of time, the edges grow blurry. But nonetheless, this is the story.</p><p></p><p>Start with a pair of dragonborn, one of them drunk enough to stagger, and a dark-skinned dwarf between them. The dwarf comes from a small, ragged group of dwarven survivors that dwell in the Black Gorge, just south of the city. The gorge also hosts a tribe of orcs. These orcs were not part of the Six-Fingered Hand. Both the dwarves and orcs are nominally allies of the city. </p><p></p><p>The dwarf if named Dzedz Orcslayer*, and he hates orcs with a passion. Many of his people do. His clan- Clan Orcslayer- is a major faction in the area. They are the ones amongst the dwarves who would prefer (and sometimes work) to see the orcs exterminated. </p><p></p><p>Periodically, Clan Orcslayer gains the political advantage in the dwarven hold. This results in a war between the dwarves and the orcs, which generally ends in a dwarven victory, but a Pyrrhic one. And then it takes a century for the dwarves to recover their lost population, while the orcs do so in a decade and a half. This is one of many unsustainable conditions in the area, at least from the perspective of Clan Orcslayer.</p><p></p><p>The three halt for a minute as the drunker of the dragonborn cries out, “It's time for Mad Max to pack a bowl of hempflower! My friends, smoke with me!”</p><p></p><p>Mad Max Damage Hashish, as this dragonborn is improbably known, wears a suit of chain mail over his own silver scales. The long haft of some heavy weapon hangs across his back. He drunkenly unslings his backpack and extracts a glass pipe from it, ignoring the disapproving looks of the people passing by on the street. He wobbles, obviously well into his evening's drinking, as he pulls his pouch of hempflower out and mashes a bud into the pipe.</p><p></p><p>The other two crowd in as Mad Max strikes a torch, then uses it to light the pipe, taking an enormous hit before passing it to the other dragonborn. </p><p></p><p>The two of them aren't related. The second, considerably less drunk, dragonborn is green-scaled and looming, with a presence that Mad Max can't match. He also wears heavy armor and bears a maul blung across his back. He draws deep on the pipe as well, then passes it to Dzedz.</p><p></p><p>“Thank you, Carl Hungus,” Dzedz says, before taking a big puff himself.</p><p></p><p>“There!” cries Mad Max, pointing at a sign nearby. </p><p></p><p>The sign depicts and angry flightless bird, saddled but riderless, its wings raised in an aggressive posture and one talon raised, as if it were about to strike. This is the Angry Kocho Tavern, or at least, this is its sign. But this is not the sign that this story is about.</p><p></p><p>The three of them bustle into the tavern and seek out the proprietor, who doesn't want any trouble. Neither, the trio declames, do they. In fact, they want to help.</p><p></p><p>“We want to perform at your tavern!” Mad Max produces a lute with a flourish and strums it. Carl Hungus shakes and taps a tambourine. </p><p>.</p><p>“And I will use my magic to create a light show and some fireworks!” Dzedz adds. </p><p></p><p>The proprietor is not convinced. This does not deter the trio. With some trepidation, because these fellows are clearly armed and dangerous, the proprietor doesn't physically stop them, which- based on their level of intoxication and how little they're listening to what he says- is probably the only way to prevent this performance.</p><p></p><p>And at first things seem fine. Even the dubious must admit that, drunk or not, Mad Max can sing. As for the other dragonborn, well, he can mostly keep a simple beat. </p><p></p><p>It's the dwarven mage's enthusiastic contribution that goes awry. </p><p></p><p>First a spray of colors, which is itself a fine accent to an otherwise fairly entertaining, if impromptu, performance; and then a wave of flames, which sets a table alight. In turn, this causes several very strong drinks to spill, two of which likewise catch fire, and quick as that, the hems of a couple of robes are on fire. The people wearing those robes, in their consternation, accidentally catch a curtain and another bystander, and then starts the panic. </p><p></p><p>It's remarkable how quickly a situation can turn when you light it on fire. While the customers of the Angry Kocho scream and run, the proprietor immediately sets to work putting out the fire, shouting orders to his subordinates. There are also two adventurers in the place- well, two <em>other</em> adventurers- and they set to helping. Together, these kind people manage to save the Angry Kocho and contain the cost of the damages to several hundred marks. </p><p></p><p>The two dragonborn and the dwarf are nowhere to be seen in the aftermath, of course. </p><p></p><p>“I knew I should have posted this a long time ago,” the proprietor gripes, as he nails a large sign just outside of the door. </p><p></p><p>And that's the story of how the Angry Kocho Bar got its “NO DRAGONBORN” sign.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>*”Dzedz” is pronounced, approximately, “Zed”. But if the next word starts with a vowel, the final Z is pronounced, so Dzedz's name sounds like “Zed”, but his full name sounds like “Zed Zorcslayer”.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 7469035, member: 1210"] Let us start with a sign, or rather, the story of a sign. As with every story, it changes with each telling, and with the passage of time, the edges grow blurry. But nonetheless, this is the story. Start with a pair of dragonborn, one of them drunk enough to stagger, and a dark-skinned dwarf between them. The dwarf comes from a small, ragged group of dwarven survivors that dwell in the Black Gorge, just south of the city. The gorge also hosts a tribe of orcs. These orcs were not part of the Six-Fingered Hand. Both the dwarves and orcs are nominally allies of the city. The dwarf if named Dzedz Orcslayer*, and he hates orcs with a passion. Many of his people do. His clan- Clan Orcslayer- is a major faction in the area. They are the ones amongst the dwarves who would prefer (and sometimes work) to see the orcs exterminated. Periodically, Clan Orcslayer gains the political advantage in the dwarven hold. This results in a war between the dwarves and the orcs, which generally ends in a dwarven victory, but a Pyrrhic one. And then it takes a century for the dwarves to recover their lost population, while the orcs do so in a decade and a half. This is one of many unsustainable conditions in the area, at least from the perspective of Clan Orcslayer. The three halt for a minute as the drunker of the dragonborn cries out, “It's time for Mad Max to pack a bowl of hempflower! My friends, smoke with me!” Mad Max Damage Hashish, as this dragonborn is improbably known, wears a suit of chain mail over his own silver scales. The long haft of some heavy weapon hangs across his back. He drunkenly unslings his backpack and extracts a glass pipe from it, ignoring the disapproving looks of the people passing by on the street. He wobbles, obviously well into his evening's drinking, as he pulls his pouch of hempflower out and mashes a bud into the pipe. The other two crowd in as Mad Max strikes a torch, then uses it to light the pipe, taking an enormous hit before passing it to the other dragonborn. The two of them aren't related. The second, considerably less drunk, dragonborn is green-scaled and looming, with a presence that Mad Max can't match. He also wears heavy armor and bears a maul blung across his back. He draws deep on the pipe as well, then passes it to Dzedz. “Thank you, Carl Hungus,” Dzedz says, before taking a big puff himself. “There!” cries Mad Max, pointing at a sign nearby. The sign depicts and angry flightless bird, saddled but riderless, its wings raised in an aggressive posture and one talon raised, as if it were about to strike. This is the Angry Kocho Tavern, or at least, this is its sign. But this is not the sign that this story is about. The three of them bustle into the tavern and seek out the proprietor, who doesn't want any trouble. Neither, the trio declames, do they. In fact, they want to help. “We want to perform at your tavern!” Mad Max produces a lute with a flourish and strums it. Carl Hungus shakes and taps a tambourine. . “And I will use my magic to create a light show and some fireworks!” Dzedz adds. The proprietor is not convinced. This does not deter the trio. With some trepidation, because these fellows are clearly armed and dangerous, the proprietor doesn't physically stop them, which- based on their level of intoxication and how little they're listening to what he says- is probably the only way to prevent this performance. And at first things seem fine. Even the dubious must admit that, drunk or not, Mad Max can sing. As for the other dragonborn, well, he can mostly keep a simple beat. It's the dwarven mage's enthusiastic contribution that goes awry. First a spray of colors, which is itself a fine accent to an otherwise fairly entertaining, if impromptu, performance; and then a wave of flames, which sets a table alight. In turn, this causes several very strong drinks to spill, two of which likewise catch fire, and quick as that, the hems of a couple of robes are on fire. The people wearing those robes, in their consternation, accidentally catch a curtain and another bystander, and then starts the panic. It's remarkable how quickly a situation can turn when you light it on fire. While the customers of the Angry Kocho scream and run, the proprietor immediately sets to work putting out the fire, shouting orders to his subordinates. There are also two adventurers in the place- well, two [i]other[/i] adventurers- and they set to helping. Together, these kind people manage to save the Angry Kocho and contain the cost of the damages to several hundred marks. The two dragonborn and the dwarf are nowhere to be seen in the aftermath, of course. “I knew I should have posted this a long time ago,” the proprietor gripes, as he nails a large sign just outside of the door. And that's the story of how the Angry Kocho Bar got its “NO DRAGONBORN” sign. *”Dzedz” is pronounced, approximately, “Zed”. But if the next word starts with a vowel, the final Z is pronounced, so Dzedz's name sounds like “Zed”, but his full name sounds like “Zed Zorcslayer”. [/QUOTE]
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