An Evening in the Stonehill Inn

"You've had enough I think, Daran," Toblen said with a kind smile. He removed the empty cup, which had tipped over from the man's flailing hands, and motioned for him to sit back down.
"I can hold my ale, thank you. I'm just excited. There's actually something happening in this wretched place," the man says with a sluggish drawl to his speech. He did; however, plop himself down onto the chair and graciously accepted a cup of water from the Innkeeper.
"I'd rather not have those types of activities talked about in my establishment," Toblen chuffed as he dry-washed his hands. "That sort of talk can bring trouble, and Pelor knows we've had enough trouble around these parts - Redbrands and all"
"Trouble? Bah, that's not trouble Toblen - that's adventure. The perils of the moment. Having your life on the blade's edge but glory and fortune rest just out of your reach." Daran said wistfully.
"Sounds dangerous," grunted Elmar who sat at a nearby table.
"Danger is the companion to fortune, Elmar," Daran spat back at the old man who grunted and took a long draw from his cup.
"Aye, it may be. But it's also a quick way to end up with a sword in yer' guts or your head suddenly absent from yer' body," he quipped. There was a chorus of laughter and he tipped his cup in response. The door creaked and everyone turned to see who was coming in. A surly man with an extravagant mustache squeezed his way in through the door. He waved to Toblen who nodded curtly in reply and turned to the room, studying the townsfolk congregating within the Inn.
"Well then, it looks like quite the gathering in here tonight," Harbin Wester said. Phandalin's Townmaster's jowls jiggled as he laughed soundlessly at a humor of his own design and waddled across the Inn to the bar and slapped a hand on the counter.
"Toblen my old friend. What does the house have for me today?"
"Certainly not more food," called out someone from near the hearth. A snicker coursed through the bar and the Townmaster's face flushed with rage.
"Who said that?" he spluttered. "As Townmaster I have the authority to have you put in the stockade for slander! Defamation! Insults against the office itself! How dare you-" he began but fell silent as Toblen placed a hand over his and deposited a full pint of ale beside it.
"Don't mind the villagers, Townmaster. They can be like children and are just looking to jest." he said earnestly and shot a scathing look at the other patrons. Harbin nodded to himself and smiled at Toblen.
"I suppose," he said and plopped down on the closest stool, the wood squealed in protest under his weight. "I often ask myself who has the true power in this town, you or I?" he mused. Toblen, not reacting to the comment, just smiled.
"Well of course you Townmaster. I'm but a humble Innkeeper. I haven't the enterprise for politics nor leadership. Solving the problems of the town no doubt is an onerous task."
"Aye it is," nodded Harbin glumly. "I often spend many nights pondering how I can make life better for your all; often at my own personal expense." he said. Daran chuckled and ignored Toblen's glare. Twisting on his stool, he turned towards Harbin and feigned an earnest interest in the Townmaster.
"I do thank you for your service Townmaster. On behalf of all of Phandalin we are truly fortunate to be blessed with such a robust presence as yourself." Daran said with a grin. His eyes darted to a few other patrons trying to stifle laughs. Harbin, ignorant of the insult, nodded in appreciation.
"So Harbin," Toblen said, trying to redirect the conversation."What say you of our new visitors to Phandalin?" he asked. The room quietened noticeably with others actually turning to listen in.
"Ah yes," Harbin said glumly "the crew that the Rockseeker Brothers hired. They seem to be a bit unruly but I don't expect they'll cause much trouble. Phandalin has nothing to offer folk of that...stock. Aye, I don't expect we will be seeing them for much longer. A quiet departure to compliment their quiet entrance."

The door banged open and Mazekk stumbled in, clutching a bloody rag to his head. He was supporting a half-naked Sildar, who's body was covered in a mixture of sweat and blood. Despite his obvious injuries, the knight appeared to be smiling.
"Drink!" called Sildar motioning to a nearby patron who handed him their cup nervously. He grunted a thank you and emptied the cup over his face, the dark ale washing down his face and mixing with the blood into a brownish liquid. He spat and shook his head, showering everyone close by with droplets of blood and ale.
"In Pelor's name, what is-" Harbin began but stopped as Meraki lumbered in behind the two warriors. The unconscious form of Yarrik in his arms.
"Where do I put him?" Meraki grumbled and looked to Dwalin to motioned near the hearth.
"That's look's like as good as spot as any," he said and Meraki moved to place the unconscious spellcaster into a small recess in the hearth's massive walls. Looking around him for a moment, he quickly pulled up the rug on the floor as lay it as a blanket over the man's legs. Nodding in approval at his work, he turned back to the rest of the group.

Sildar thanked Mazekk and limped up to the bar where he sprawled out onto a stool. He motioned to Toblen for a drink and then nodded politely to Harbin who was gawking at the bloodied swordsman in disbelief. Harbin, finally recovering himself, clambered to his feet.
"I..I...on behalf of the Town...by the office of the...I demand to know what is going on!" Harbin said. Sildar turned to him and then looked back at his companions who shrugged. Looking back to Harbin, he flashed the Townmaster a toothy smile.
"Minor altercation. Nothing to concern yourselves with." he said.
"A minor altercation? You're covered in blood and look like a tribes of goblins has had it's way with you," Harbin wheezed.
"Goblin's ain't that tough," Mazekk muttered.
"Would you fancy a bugbear instead?" mused Aethulian in a mocking tone. The wood elf had quietly moved up to the bar and was swirling a dark wine in a clear glass. Mazekk fumed and turned to face the Wood Elf who feigned wilting and puffed his chest.
"Why don't you try to land an arrow once in a while, elf?  If you didn't turn your back so much you may actually get a kill." He grunted. Aethulian's prior impervious air to insults seemed to fade away and he stood up quickly, and shouting profanities at the Half-Orc in elvish. The two closed in on each other, both ignorant to the beleaguered Harbin Wester cowering between them. The argument crescendoed with Mazekk waving his stool over his head and threatening to smash the Wood Elf into the floor and Aethulian's lightning quick reflexes brandishing a slender dagger and waving the weapon towards Mazekk's exposed neck. Sildar, rolling his eyes slides off the stool and walks over to them. Raising his hands for quiet and beginning to shout.
"Gentleman, gentleman please!" he said, finally gaining ground over the argument. Aethulian and Mazekk stopped yelling and turned to the bloodied Knight.
"I understand we are all sensitive. After all, the killing of those Redbrand pigs was not as eloquent as I would expect." he said. Harbin gasped.
"What! You killed who? How-" he began but Sildar placed his bloody hand over his mouth cut him off.
"Townmaster, in a minute," he said. "Now where was I, ah yes - the deaths. I am sure you are as disappointed as me. There were only five of them and I would have preferred to have killed more." he said and wagged a finger at Harbin who squeaked in protest.
"Let us rest tonight, celebrate our victory and in the morning I promise we will find something else to kill. Something more worth our time?" Sildar finished.
"Something for both of us?" Mazekk asked, looking down at his feet.
"Of course!"
"And perhaps not inside a dark cave? I prefer to hunt outdoors - for the vantages of course." Aethulian added. Sildar smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't have it any other way. The widest vantage you could imagine. Arrows flying from the forest and piercing the skulls of your enemies. No one knowing from where their death it coming!" Sildar said wistfully; Aethulian smiled and nodded. He bowed his head in a conciliatory gesture to Mazekk who grunted an acknowledgement.
"Good, we are all friends again!" Sildar said with a smile.
"Brothers," a smaller voice called from the hearth. Turning back they see Nipper of Heels with a feline ear pressed against Yarrik's chest. "his heartbeat is slowing down. Is this a bad thing?"
Dwalin's eyes widened and he heaved himself to his feet.
"Right!" he said gruffly. "Healing!" he lumbered over to Yarrik. Meraki grabbed Yarrik's feet and Dwalin his arms, the two began dragging him towards the backdoor towards the stables hayloft where they were staying. Yarrik's head slammed into the door frame and as the two babbled to one another like two dockworkers trying to carry out a box. Aethulian winked at Toblen and slinked upstairs followed closely by Mazekk and Nipper. A moment later, the bar was quiet again as the group departed. The half-naked Sildar stood smiling and breathed in deeply.
"Aren't they wonderful." he said with a feverish grin on his face. He clapped a hand on Harbin's back and strode back towards the stairs.
"Hilda! Prepare yourself. The brave knight returns from battle and his sword is hungry!" he called out. A women shrieked upstairs and a series of footsteps was followed by a chorus of laughter and other lewd noises.

Toblen looked to Harbin who stood there, blood smeared on his face, dumbfounded and speechless.
"I love this town!" Daran cried out and raised his glass in celebration.