Gerard stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass while watching the various regulars having the same conversation over the same drinks at the same time as every other night and smiled. It was this normalcy, this sense of community and regularity that helped to fuel his decision to move to Restharven and open the Dragon’s Blood. Armethalieh was just too big for him-there was too much noise and there was no sense of…home to it. Plus, the Inquisition was incredibly corrupt.
He glanced over at the Dragonborn and the Human. They had been sitting there for an hour now. Gerard mused to himself about the reason these strangers had come into Restharven, but otherwise paid them no mind. It was the man at the bar that really concerned him. Staying at an Inn for one or two days was one thing, but he had been here nearly two weeks, and had said maybe ten words since he had arrived. Or was it twelve…
The bartender shrugged, looking at one of his regulars-a Wilden. He had been living here for three years, but the Wilden had yet to earn Gerard’s complete trust since his arrival. However, every person’s gold was good, so he had no reason for complaint. Filling a glass, he passed it down to the Wilden patron, the same stout he ordered every night, a couple copper clinking down onto the counter in response.
A Cleric, a prophet of Pelor judging by the insignia around her neck, he gave her a quick look. Ugh, Clerics never pay well… They order bread and abstain from alcohol most of the time… As she went to take a seat, the Dragonborn from before went and started pestering that hooded man. As much he wanted to see what was under that hood, and as much as he wanted to know more, if that brute started a fight in his bar, it would be a several platinum to repair it…
The door was pushed open and a shifty looking man walked in, clutching his hip. Must be a war wound, hundreds of the veterans have them. An ear shattering shriek erupted from the hooded man, as he spun and writhing tentacles sprouted out of his mouth as he ran to the shaking man. Struck useless with fear, the bartender dove behind the bar, cowering as far into the corner as best he could…
The sounds of fighting broke over the counter, as several people jumped to engage the “thing” attacking the jumpy man, and after a quick skirmish and several more shrieks, the horror burst out the back door, shrieking into the night until quieted.
The sounds of more creatures could be faintly heard as the adventurers gathered back into the bar. Peeking from his hiding place, the bartender could see the jumpy man grabbing at the dragonborn, yelling about something called the Bloodgem, until they begrudgingly gave it to him, and ran from the bar.
As the noises got closer and closer those gathered in the bar realized the inevitability of a fight, and began to barricade the door, set up defenses, and hold a line. They gathered weapons from the blacksmith, piling tables and chairs up to blockade the door and make it as hard as they could for anything to make it inside.
6 travelers, 2 patrons, the blacksmith and the bartender all gathered behind the bar, preparing for the onslaught to come. the sounds of screeching and anguish broke the silence that held the group as the creatures reached the city. The sounds of destruction and death struck fear into the small defense, the bartender himself started shaking. One of the travelers took some barrels of ale, rolling it to the door, “a burning arrow at this ought to buy uss some time to fall back if need be so everyone prep-” his voice was cut off as a long tentacle burst through the door and wrapped around his throat and yanking him back toward the newly created hole.
“JOHN!” his companion shouted, dropping the crossbow and pulling out his sword, “I’M COMING FOR YOU!” before anyone could react he had hopped the bar, running to free his friend. Raising his sword, he chopped at the tentacle, lopping it clean off and hearing a shriek in retort. “I’ve got you…” he said, trying to drag back the lifeless friend.
The shriek had been echoed through the bar and city, soon to be shared by many others as the patrons remaining began to panic more, breaking down. one mans terror overwhelmed him so much as to turn the bow on himself in an attempt to spare himself from their onslaught. Soon, 3 monstrosities burst through the door, quickly shredding the two out of place travelers. the each loosed a volley of bolts at the creatures, missing several as they turned their attention to them.
Falling over the bar the beasts tore through the meager defense, unshakable in their offense and tearing them to shreds. Covered in the blood of his companions, the bartender whispered a quick prayer to his god before being cut short.