It's all about the beer
Grom eyes the sausage shop and the bangers sizzling on the smokey stove but waves for you to enter the tavern. The ceiling's low and a lantern dangles at head height casting long shadows across the floor. A stout barman with heavily tattooed arms glares at you from across the room and conversations stop mid-sentence. All eyes turn on you as a dozen of the meanest-looking humans' size you up. A circle of dwarves sitting at a table glance over but quickly lose interest.
"You're not welcome here", the bartender says with a deep growl. Just in case you haven't got the message he brings a club out from below the bar and slams it down. "Go back the way you came and there won't be no trouble."
"Alright, Trig," Grom says cheerfully as he slips past you and slumps against the bar. "A pint for me and on for my guest."
"Guest?" Trig looks you over before tucking the club away and coming back up with two empty mugs. "You leading another fool to the heart of the slab? Thought you'd have learnt last time."
"That wasn't my fault, skeletons aren't supposed to do that.," Grom whispers so that you can't hear but his quiet voice is nothing of the sort. He gives Trig an obvious wink and then turns back to you. "This is Trig's, the best bar in all of Dragsmund. Feel free to talk to the locals but remember what I said about fingers."
"We like fingers," an old man at the end of the bar says with a toothless grin. Grom gives you a slight shake of the head as if to say 'ignore him'.
The barman plonks an overflowing tankard in front of you and gives you a hard stare as you take it. "Might not be up to your usual standards but my sister brews all my ale."
The tavern quiets as they all wait for you to take a taste. The smell rising from the brown foam is almost enough to put you off but as the first sip passes your lips you're pleasantly surprised at the fruity tang. You take a deeper draught and the barman nods his approval. Grom lets out a sigh of relief and turns back to his conversation.
The chatter in the room strikes up again and you feel the locals warm up to you. Soon you're drinking and chatting away but you get the sense they're waiting for something. The old toothless man sidles up and whispers in your ear that it's custom for outsiders to buy a round in.
"Shows respect," the old man says with a wink. "Unless you'd rather we thought you an uptight outsider, too good to drink with us?"
The barman has a bottle on the counter and hand ready to pop the cork. You give the nod and a cheer goes up as he starts filling tankards with a splash of the clear spirit. A little goes in with your beer and a dwarf clambers onto a chair to make a toast to his best friend whose about to be married.
The alcohol starts flowing and you find yourself at the centre of a raucous celebration. Roll on the table to see what happens.
1d4
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1
A skinny man with a rat-like face waves you over from the corner table where he and three others are playing a card game. Sitting down at the spare seat you only get a moment to take in the rules before the next round starts. Cards are passed out and money tossed into an ever-expanding pot in the middle. Rat-face is grinning as they start calling out numbers and betting more money. Caught up in the enthusiasm you dip into your purse and join in. The rules seem made up but you do your best until Rat-face lets out a triumphant cry and slams his cards down. The other players groan and the one next to you takes your cards and goes to discard them on the pile but does a double-take when he sees your hand.
"Not so fast, Ratty!" the dwarf shouts as he slams your cards down. "They got you beat."
Ratty bares his teeth at you and you catch the murderous glint in his eye.
"Time to go," Grom says hauling you to your feet. "Don't forget your winnings."
You scoop up the pile of coins as Grom pulls you out of the tavern.
"What did you go winning for? We'll be lucky if they just take our money." Grom starts running as Ratty emerges from the pub with a few of his friends in tow. They start shouting before giving chase.
Sore Losers
2
A human and a dwarf are arguing over a football game between the Town Terrors and the Slaughter yard Rats. They ask your opinion on who the better team is. Grom's ears perk up from across the bar but you misinterpret his frantic head shaking as him trying to dodge a persistent fly and say you're not too keen on rats. The human breaks into laughter while the dwarf's face turns red. Fists start flying around you as a brawl breaks out. You try and stop them but Grom grabs you and drags you from the bar.
Hooligans
3
A dwarven woman at the bar is eating a sausage when she starts to choke. While everyone else fails to notice you jump in and give her a slap on the back. A hard bit of gristle flies from her mouth to hit the barman on the nose. He lets out a surprised yelp as the dwarf spins around and grips you by the shirt. For a moment you think you're about to get headbutted but instead she kisses you on the lips.
"I thought I was a gonna. My old pa died just the same way," the dwarf says as you mumble something about chewing. "You're coming to the wedding and I won't take no for an answer."
Grom gives you a thumbs up from the bar and nods for you to accept.
"Wise choice. There's nothing like a dwarven wedding," the dwarf says with a wide smile. She pinches your chin and pulls your head down to her level. "I've been looking for someone to take. You'll do."
Go to the wedding
4
Whatever the spirit was that the barman tipped into your ale it went to your head. The next hour is a montage of shouting, drinking, dancing on tables, getting a piggyback from Grom, and playing darts with knives.
At some point, you get too rowdy for the barman and he throws you and Grom out of the pub. Grom looks ready to start a fight as his nostrils flare and he puffs his chest out but then he suddenly spins around and points across the road.
"Sausage!" Grom yells as he sprints toward the sausage shop. With no other choice, you hurry after him.
It's all about the sausage
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