D&D at Cabaret Bara - Chapter 1 - Finnigan the Fighter (SFW) (Patreon)

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Chapter 1 - Finnigan the Fighter

Nestled at the heart of Otters’ Gate, the Tipsy Unicorn stands as a beacon of warmth in the cold night. The golden light and cheerful music that leak out of the inn's windows suggest a lively ambiance, but the battle scars on the wooden exterior and the broken glass on the ground suggest an even livelier crowd. A sign with a crude caricature, a blushing white unicorn depicted with a tankard of ale, welcomes guests at the entrance. Clearly, what the owners lack in security, they make up for in humor.

Upon entering, two details hit you: the air is thick with the scent of hearty stew and the floor is sticky with spilled whiskey. Dimly lit by flickering lanterns and the occasional magical light, the common room is adorned with all sorts of trophies that tell the tales of past adventures.

At the heart of the inn, a worn wooden bar stretches across the room, tended to by a stout and friendly dwarf-

***

FINN: What does the dwarf look like? Is he hot?

BEN: Well… He's a dwarf so short, stocky, and huh… Hairy too. He's kinda like a short bear.

MARKUS: Like Henry, basically?

BEN: Shorter, but yeah, pretty much that. So yeah, I’d say he’s hot.

FINN: Oh sweet! I wanna flirt with him.

BEN: You haven't even arrived yet.

FINN: I rolled a 6.

FIROUZ: Wow! He's clearly not into you.

FINN: Eh? That's not fair!

JADE: You didn't even roll the right die, Finn, that's a d12.

FINN: I flex my biceps at the barman.

DIEGO: Yeah, like that ever works.

BEN: Ahem!

FINN: What's wrong with my biceps?

MARKUS: Absolutely nothing!

BEN: Guys…

DIEGO: It's just that bartenders have evolved to become immune to that kind of stuff. Everyone flirts with us every night.

BEN: Guys…

FIROUZ: Oh wait Finn, keep him busy with your gun show. DM, can I pickpocket the dwarf with advantage while he's distracted?

BEN: Guys, please! I'm just trying to describe the inn. Can I get a minute? And then I'll introduce you.

FINN: Of course buddy, you should've said so from the start!

BEN: Where was I? Oh right.

***

…by a stout and friendly bear- err… dwarf.

He regales patrons with - probably slightly exaggerated - stories of legendary quests while deftly pouring frothy ales into tankards worn smooth from countless toasts. Behind him, a corkboard is plastered with parchments and notices: a bounty board where adventurers and swords for hire seek employment.

Groups of mercenaries huddle at round tables, their armor clinking softly as they discuss the latest job opportunities. In a dark corner of the room, cloaked figures seem to be making shady deals protected by the cover of the surrounding noise. In another corner, a bard plays enthusiastic melodies on what looks like a magical lute, creating an energetic soundtrack to the patrons’ lively chatter.

The Tipsy Unicorn brands itself as a haven for those seeking both refuge and adventure. But more importantly, it is the place where your adventure begins.

A strapping young human enters the inn. His hair has the color of raging flames and his striking blue eyes are filled with dreams of heroism. His skin, freckled by the sun and scarred by the blade, bears testimony of his past experiences on the battlefield and suggests that, despite his young age, he has survived many deadly encounters already. The shield and sword buckled at his back seem quite simple, devoid of any magical aura, but upon closer inspection, one would notice the silver coating that renders his blade effective against otherworldly creatures.

Making his way to the bar, the young human meets the dwarven barkeep and introduces himself as…

***

BEN: Wait… This must be a mistake on your sheet. You named your character “Finn”?

FINN: Finnigan, yes!

BEN: But… That’s your name…

FINN: Well… I wanted to make sure I would remember it.

BEN: I… (sigh) I suppose that's fair.

***

Finnigan, the brave fighter!

The bartender introduces himself as Bastien and gives him a knowing smile as if to tell Finn that he’s not the first young fighter in whom he sees this desperate eagerness to prove himself.

“I’m a hero seeking adventure!” declares Finn.

“Of course you are.” replies the dwarf. “Whether you are looking for glory or treasure, you are certain to find it at the Golden Palace.”

“And where is that?” asks the fighter.

“The Golden Palace can be found at the heart of the Clapping Mountains, south of Otters’ Gate and past Scandalkeep.”

Now with a promptness that surprises the young human, the dwarf picks a piece of parchment from the quest board and offers it up on the wooden surface of the bar. The missive tells of King Sikandar, the monarch of the southern kingdom, who requests a skilled adventurer to journey to the Golden Palace and rid it of the evil beast that lurks in its maze-like catacombs. A generous reward of 20,000 crowns is offered for the completion of this quest.

However, the kind barkeep warns you that none has ever returned from attempting this quest. What will you do?

***

FINN: Would Bastien be into it if I went for it?

BEN: Huh?

FINN: Like, would it maybe make him think I’m cool?

BEN: Roll Insight. Wait, no, that’s your d12 again. Yes, that one is the d20. Now add your Wisdom modifier to it.

FINN: 14!

BEN: You get a sense that he would be impressed if you were to accomplish this grandiose feat.

FINN: Then I do it!

***

Unencumbered by such things as logic and caution, Finnigan decides to embark on this quest and makes plans to leave at first light in the morning. After a last drink of ale and securing a room key from Bastien, he finds his quarters for the night.

The room is quite barebones, equipped with nothing more than a bed and an end table on which shines a small oil lamp. A large chest at the foot of the bed offers the possibility to doff his armor and store his weapons for a more comfortable sleep. A window on the back wall of the room is covered with drapes that seem to have seen better days as they’re riddled with holes. The Swiss cheese looking linen lets moonlight pool inside, rimming the shape of the furniture with a silvery blue sheen.

What would you like to do now?

***

FINN: Should I just go to bed?

BEN: It’s up to you.

FIROUZ: Yeah, don’t rush on our account. It’s not like we wanna play or anything.

BEN: Patience, Roo, your turn will come.

FIROUZ: Pff!

FINN: I will take off my armor and go to bed.

BEN: Awesome! So…

***

Without inspecting his room for traps or any shady details, the fighter removes his armor and, in his vulnerable nakedness, snuffs the lamp before resting his head on the soft pillow, exposing his neck to the possibility of a swift blade in the night. Despite the looming threat of a stranger entering his unguarded room and slitting his throat while he rests, he finds sleep quickly.

***

FINN: Wait, you’re making it sound like I should’ve looked around.

BEN: Me? Never.

***

About an hour past midnight, an almost imperceptible creak emanates from the window.

***

FINN: Oh no. I’m not gonna die, am I? Can I wake up?

BEN: Roo, give me a Stealth check.

FIROUZ: Coming right up… Oh shit! You gotta be fucking kidding me!

DIEGO: First one of the game! Haha!

FIROUZ: The table’s not leveled right.

JADE: Well, the table has spoken! And it says you fumbled.

FINN: Does that mean I’ll live?

FIROUZ: For now, Red.

MARKUS: Aren’t we supposed to be on the same side?

DIEGO: Oh we are, but Firouz is always a wild card.

BEN: Moving on…

***

A loud thud wakes Finnigan up, interrupting what I’m sure was a beautiful dream of Bastien.

As the fighter quickly shakes the sleep off his eyes, he sees a figure on the ground. It looks as if the intruder attempted to discreetly enter the room by the window and instead stumbled gracelessly into it…

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