Aregano's eyes go wide at the sight of the freshly baked bread. He tears off a hunk and zaps it with a taste enhancing cantrip, before stuffing it in his face. Speaking around the food he is chewing...as he often finds himself doing...

"What was that you were saying about breakfast again?"

Then in answer to the dragonborn, Aregano stuffs his book in his satchel, gulps his mouthful of bread down, and motions to the empty chair, "Please do. What can we help you with?"

Then, as a quick aside, to Spitwick, pointing a thumb at the dragonborn "You think we need another loaf...or two?"

Then he looks back to the dragonborn, interlaces his fingers over the apex of his belly, fixes a friendly grin on his face, and settles in to hear "the small matter".

Lucian tilts his head slightly as he tries to make sense of what he just saw. Clearly that wasn't a natural occurrence.



He pushes himself to his feet, grabs his pack and, without taking his eyes of the storm, makes his way into the Giant. Taking a moment to let the warmth of the inn wash away the chill of his last seat he looks over the cheering crowd before spotting his companions and pushing his way towards them. Glancing out of a window as he moves up to the table and begins to speak "We may have some trou-" but catches himself when he turns back fully and notices the Dragonborn. "Oh? We have guests?"

Phone post - I'll clean it up at home

Libi looks over at Aregano and assesses the situation quickly. She raises herself out of her seat and walks over to him with all the femenine saunter she can put into her steps. Bending down next to him she kisses him firmly on the lips and says "Sweetie, it's been a long trip. Will you come out and walk in the brisk night with me?" As she walks away she trails an index finger over his cheek and flicks it off his chin as she walks towards and out the front door.

~SE++

Aregano looks over his shoulder at the sauntering away Libi, his brow furrowed, as she walks out the door.

He turns back to his table mates. "I make it a rule to never let them see me too eager to please. Keeps them wanting more." He grabs another hunk of bread and shoves it into his gaping maw.

Then to the dragonborn, "You were saying about the thing?"

Libi steps out the front door just as the last of Spitwick's teamsters of halflings are hurrying in. Flint is on her heels. The grounds outside are already coated in a downy white, and the snow-powder grinds beneath Libi's feet. Flint scowls and shakes his head, "I swear it was clear skies right before we walked in," he says.

The dragonborn watches Libi leave and Lucian approach, and glances at his companions at the other table, and they share a moment's silent communication. Spitwick gestures to a seat beside him, and the dragonborn graciously sits. The kobold wench drops off another few loaves of bread, and this time the dragonborn palms her a silver.

"You can help me with a personal matter that, I believe, may end up assisting your group as well. My companions and I are searching for a lost, baby dragon, and believe she is in the vicinity and--somehow--responsible for the weather calamities plaguing the region. We think she is nearby, but have been having difficulty searching for her due to a clan of goblins in the region. What I am proposing is simple: if your group could dispatch the goblins and locate the dragon, we would be able to clear the roadways for you, that you may continue on your journey."

Spitwick's eyes glitter at the deal. He mutters something about "paying a bloody day rate" and aims a pleading look at Aregano, Lucian, and Tovar. "Sounds like a steal to me, eh? You fellows ain't gettin' a copper 'til we return with the cows, am I right?"

Tovar, who has been following the group suddenly shakes his head. "Sorry all, been feeling a bit out of sorts, must be the weather."

He gives a quick smile towards Aregano, remembering his last question. "The Greatsword helps answer questions when I can't find the right words". He laughs, showing his crooked, slightly blackened teeth. He picks up a loaf of bread and rips an end off, and starts to chew.

"A baby dragon, you say" appears to be what he says, although the words are difficult to make out with his mouth full of food.

"Seems like more than we bargained for, not that it looks like we have other options".

He tries to swallow, but finds it difficult. "Bring us a round of something warming, on me" he growls as he fishes a few silver pieces out of his pouch.

Aregano squishes a few of his chins together as he half-nods a half-understanding to Tovar's answer. Then mostly to himself "...guess I'll make it a point not to ask any questions that need answers...rhetorical-only it is." He pops another bite of bread in his mouth.

Then to the dragonborn. "Goblins and a baby dragon in exchange for some snow shoveling? Would you perhaps be willing to sweeten the deal? You know, give us a little more to chew on?"

The dragonborn scowls, and abruptly stands. "Pardon me," he murmurs. He walks briskly over to his companions to confer.

Spitwisk leans in and whispers so only those near the table, "You know yer contracts are paid upon completion, right? I got a few silver to pay yer night's stay, but after tonight it's on your coin. Sooner this heifer-hunt's over, the more profit will be made by all o' us." His eyes scan the room, and he smirks at the celebrating teamsters. "Almost all o' us."

The dragonborn returns, just as the kobold waitress deposits mulled wines and ales on the table for the heroes and Spitwick, fulfilling Tovar's request. The dragonborn seem to be in a small argument, until finally the one who spoke to you first growls, "We must." and strides back to the table. He pulls a small pouch off of his belt and deposits onto the table. Rather than jingle, it clicks, a sound like dried beans or wooden coins.

"This is all we have to offer. If your business up the slope isn't urgent enough, there's little we can do to additionally motivate you." He crosses his arms over his chest and meets the gazes of the heroes at the table, one by one.

Aregano shows a friendly grin, and quirks an eyebrow...kind of...the doughy-ness of his face makes sharp angles difficult.

"What's that?" he asks indicating the pouch. "It doesn't look sweet...and it doesn't sound chewy. I was hoping you could get us a couple sticky buns...or a pie...or a cake...or some sugared ham...or some tarts...or...."

Aregano licks his lips and gulps to clear his freshly watering mouth before stuffing another piece of bread in.

"I mean, we'll certainly try to find the little tyke. I was just hoping for something sweet to wrap up this meal of bread and ale...before we headed out."

Aregano shrugs.

"What can you tell us about the area? Where are these goblins? And what kinds of places would the baby be likely to hide?"

Lucian nods while listening to the Dragonborn's story while slowly chewing a piece of the offered bread. "My apologies for my companions behavior - he has issues with self-control at times." He shoots a dirty look at Aregano before continuing "As you say we do have urgent business to attend further up the slopes and if recovering your dragon is what it takes to achieve that then I would be more than willing to help" At his point he reaches down and picks up the offered pouch, tentatively opening it and inspecting it's content. "I do have a question or two however. When you say you have 'lost' a baby dragon do you refer to a member of your kin or to an actual dragon - the sort that terrorizes the peasantry and devours men whole. You understand my confusion if it is the latter. Hatchling or not a true dragon should have little trouble surviving - I would hazard that considering the local wildlife it would actual do rather well for itself. Oh and also why were you transporting a dragon?"

Once outside, Libi turns back to the inn, and sees only Flint behind her, and not Aregano. She spits on the ground and mutters darkly, "The fool will get us all targeted and killed if he casually casts magic around in a f---ing bar full of strangers."

~SE++

The dragonborn pulls out what looks like a small coffee bean from the pouch, and holds it up for the adventurers to see. "These are stimulants--a single bean can make you temporarily twice as fast as you normally are, but when the effect wears off, you're twice as slow. Good for an expeditious retreat, I suppose, unless you're unable to get away."

He gestures out the window, pointing with a taloned finger, "We ran into the goblins up the slopes--not on the iced-over road, but among the snowy powder and craggy rocks. Shouldn't be difficult to climb. The area is rocky and interspersed with tall trees. We didn't see the goblins at first, and then were ambushed, and barely escaped with our scales intact. We suspect the hatchling is in the caves beyond where we encountered the goblins." He sighs, addressing Garren, "The dragon is just that--a baby dragon, and not one of our kind. Its egg was entrusted to us to prevent it from hatching--you see, we're from the south, where it would be too warm for a cold dragon to thrive. Like you, we do not enjoy our villages being terrorized by dragons, and being of dragon blood we feel a bit of responsibility for preventing such creatures from harming others. However, the egg was stolen from our vaults, and we tracked it here. It is cold enough and has been long enough that it is reasonable to assume the hatchling has hatched, and if left alone we are afraid it will grow, and threaten the nearby farms and villages. However, it is young enough that it should pose no threat to adventurers like yourselves. Here." The dragonborn pulls out a rumbled pamphlet, with a picture of a smiling ogre on its front, and the words MONSTERS ARE PEOPLE TOO in bold beneath it. "We believe there's a misguided terrorist group behind the theft. They seem to think monsters deserve the rights of humanoids." He shakes his head in disgust.

"And now that I have answered your numerous questions, and you have agreed to the task, please pardon me while I inform my colleagues." He strides back to his table, and begins an earnest discussion with his companions.

Aregano chews another bite of bread thoughtfully, taking a long swig of ale to wash it down.

"Spitwick, can you have your guys ask around to the other teams here and see if they have had any trouble with these goblins on previous trips? Anything they might be able to tell us about these goblins would be helpful. How many per group? What kinds of weapons they use? Tactics? What they wear? Any food they might carry with them..."

Then offhandedly to the rest of the group..."Anyone catch if we're supposed to bring this dragon back alive or not?"

He shrugs and stuffs in another piece of the bread, spicing it up first with a cantrip, and moaning in delight at the taste. "Ooooh, that's gooood."

Spitwick nods, then stands and walks over to a table of his teamsters, repeating Aregano's instructions. He circles round to the dragonborn, exchanges a few words, then comes back to the table. "Furiel--that dragonborn over there--didn't exactly say no to killing the dragon, but he sure as Pelor's beard didn't say how we're supposed to bring it back. I think they expected ya to charge more for killin' a dragon, and couldn't right afford it, but probably would've used the information you gave 'em to circle back and kill 'em themselves."

Several halflings have made the rounds of the bar, speaking to waitresses, the half-orcs, dwarves and elves, and report back to Spitwick. They then traipse off to their table, and begin gabbing away.

"Looks like none of these fellows have encountered much up the slopes. The elves there say they've heard of some goblins around these parts, and that they prefer the cold and have acclimated to it better than the goblins nestled up in the slopes by Talcar. No one reckons hearing much about the goblins in their past travels. Mostly they've been here in the storms started pounding the area a week ago. As far as gear and food goes, none of them could list anything specific."

Seems like a fool's mission to me...lucky for them, we're used to acting like fools. Tovar laughs at his own joke.
How many of those "magic beans" are in that pouch? He laughs again. Wadda all think? Are we foolish enough to take on a dragon? He takes a long swallow of his wine. Couple more of these and I'll be ready to take on that beast all by myself he boasts.

At the mention of "...how WE're supposed...", Aregano's eyebrows popup.

"Why, Spitwick, it will be quite lovely to have you along on this adventure! In light of the lack of information from the other patrons of this inn, would you mind asking the dragonborn over there about their experiences with the goblins? Numbers in the raiding groups, equipment, tactics, etc... Anything else they can tell us might help us be better prepared."

At that he scratches his ample chins for a moment, and then pulls out one of the books in his satchel and starts leafing through it.

Spitwick suddenly finds something interesting in the bottom of his ale, and begins gulping toward it. He wipes his mouth and gives Aregano a lead stare, "Must be hearin' things wrong, wizard. Maybe chew less loud?" He lurches to his feet. "I suppose you all will go out first thing in the morn. I'll be with my crew." He nods respectively and totters over to his teamsters' table.

Lucian sips at an ale while turning the pouch over in his hands. Paid in magic beans huh? A peculiar situation. He chuckles to himself while slipping the beans into a jacket pocket. "Well then it would appear we are to become dragon slayers. Not exactly what we signed up for but a lucrative venture none the less. At the very least should bring in more than simple caravan work." He downs the rest of his drink before continuing. "I'd recommend you all get some sleep but failing that at least try to drink in moderation. Or at least quietly." He gives a slight bow before making his way to the stairs and the room Spitwick has provided.

Sleep? Bah! Tovar says, as soon as Lucian is out of earshot. Barkeep, another round for any of my friends who are staying.

He drains his current drink, fishes a few more silvers out of his pouch and looks around the bar. If only it was warmer he thinks as he looks around for his next drink. Barkeep!

As he finishes leafing through his book, he looks up to realize that the table population at some point went from 4 to 2.

"Huh...ooh, good still some bread left."

He pops another piece in his gaping maw.

Then to Tovar...

"Would you go ask those dragonborn about the goblins? Seems like they are the only ones in here that have actually encountered them. Numbers in the raiding groups, equipment, tactics, etc... Anything else they can tell us might help us be better prepared. The standard stuff. I'd do it, but I have a little more research to do to get ready."

He points at his book in explanation.

"And, also, I'd have to get up..."

He points at his belly in explanation.

He shrugs, grins, and goes back to flipping pages and skimming them with his finger. Periodically popping another bite of bread in his mouth.