Sewer Slimes

A05: Ox-Strength Tavern

It's Kesenday, Rhaltaas 12 12:03:48 1020. The full moon is up. The tide is low and rising. Fair weather clouds drift through the blue sky from the west. The wind is gusty.

---

Yelrona enters the Ox-Strength, limping noticeably on her right leg, where her trousers have been shredded to ribbons. A lot of blood is visible. She looks exhausted as she orders four shot-glasses of cheap rotgut whiskey.

Kruulvog is sitting at the bar wiping the dregs of a big wooden bowl clean with a crust of dark rye bread. When the bloodied elf limps in, he glances over at her feet, then gradually lifts his look until he sees her face. He says, "I've seen you before. You look like you've had a hard day so far."

Yelrona looks up at the half-orc and nods agreeably as she takes a stool next to him.

"Yes... I'm around this neighborhood a lot. Name's Yelrona. And it hasn't been my best morning, no... but you should see the other guy, though!"

She works the shredded fabric off her wounded leg with a small knife and inspects the leg carefully. The blood is mostly dried and the wounds themselves appear healed, though the flesh around them is angry and red.

She pays for the shots as they arrive, then grits her teeth and pours them, one after the other, carefully over the scars.

That task completed, she nods to Kruulvog's bowl. "Stew any good today?"

Kruulvog shrugs, saying, "This neighborhood is busy. The City is busy. Many people, Many kinds of people. Not enough snakes. But the food here is wonderful. I love this place." His snake slithers out of his sleeve onto the bar counter.

Yelrona is startled by the snake, but not particularly disturbed. "Well, hello there," she says to the slithering beast, "What's _your_ name?"

The snake hisses, tasting the air. The gangly, green-skinned man says, "He is Greenfang." As Mr. Oxley catches sight of the serpent, and instinctively recoils, Kruulvog says, "Don't worry, old man. I'll pay you for the rats he eats out of your kitchen."

"As well he should!" Rona adds to Oxley, the faintest of smiles on her lips. "They are an important ingredient here." To Kruulvog she adds "You'll forgive me if I don't inspect him closely enough to check... is Greenfang's name literal?"

Kruulvog smirks. He says, "No. His fangs are only green when rendered so." (The snake's scales, however, are a mottled variety of greens.) The snake climbs down the back side of the bar and slithers into the kitchen. Kruulvog says, "So, this other fella, did he attack you or did you attack him?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly a 'fella'... more a vine, really," Rona explains. "And I guess it was a little of both," she admits. "It attacked a caravan I was guarding, so I attacked it."

Kruulvog raises his eyebrow and looks at Rona's leg again. He asks, "A vine that draws blood, eh? Any idea where I might get one?"

"Draws blood, excretes poison, is a general pain in the ass, and I could swear it was LAUGHING at me," Rona confirms. "The Felwood is a strange place. Anyway, I think I got rid of all of it... sorry, had I known I'd have saved a sample for you. But you know how weeds are... they always have a way of coming back."

Kruulvog grins. "Serves the caravan right for venturing into such a place. Perhaps Greenfang and I shall go look around the Felwood and see what other interesting things we find. Frankly, I've been spending a fair amount of my time lately becoming acquainted with the marvelous sewers of this City, but cozy as they are with all their convoluted turns and variety of aromatic slimes, the otyughs can be a bit of a nuissance."

Yelrona regards Kruulvog curiously. "Well, that's... certainly a point of view," she says diplomatically. "I'd be careful travelling the sewers alone these days, though... I hear the Dragonier wights have a way of occupying them, of late."

Kruulvog nods, "Yes. There are places in there where the sense of dread is palpable. Even Greengang keeps his distance from certain tunnels."

Yelrona nods. "Wise snake, then." It's unclear to whom she is speaking when she says that, really. "I've also been hearing stories about a new kind of slime in the sewers... a black sparkling slime that creates aberrations, and eats magic. Haven't run into it myself, though."

Kruulvog laughs, "Yes. There are many intersting slimes in there."

Yelrona laughs. "Not the word I would have used, but to each their own I suppose. Which are your favorites?"

Kruulvog looks pleased and says, "Oh, well, over underneath Clunk's junk yard, there is a slime there that seems to seep through the ground above. I think it's a mix of various concoctions discarded by artificers, and it seems to respond to magic. Otherwise, it bears traces of a variety corroded metals from tin and copper to living steel and the tarnish of mithral."

Yelrona nods. "Yeah, there's a lot of strange stuff out by Clunk's... over in Sage Orum's, too. Were you around when the artifice animals were popping up everywhere, a couple of years back?"

Kruulvog shakes his head. "Popping up?"

"Yes. I'm not exactly sure what that was all about, to be honest, but it was right after a demon attack on the Junkyard. There were a lot of demons attacking the city back then. Anyway, for about a month or so afterwards there were these clockwork animals -- rats, squirrels, rabbits, you name it -- just kind of appearing all over town. Not dangerous, exactly, just... odd." She shrugs. "Anyway. Between the artificers and the golems I've been spending a lot of time at Clunk's lately, so I was remembering it."

Kruulvog hmms. "I wonder if anyone has preserved a collection of specimens. Demonic clockwork vermin would make fun toys, I think, for the right sort of customer."

"I know, right? I collected a few of them," Rona muses, "though I ended up handing them over to the Artificers. I'm sure others did, though. They were tricky to catch... had a way of falling apart when grabbed... but not impossible. I'm sure if you asked around you'd find someone who still has one."

Kruulvog grimaces and squints. He simply says, "Yeah. Uh, That's not really my style." Then, "Besides, commerce isn't frankly a major motivatorfor me."

Yelrona shrugs. "Well, you could also give them away as gifts, I suppose. Though it might be easier to do that with artificer-debris slime." She orders a bowl of the stew as a staffer comes by. "So," she continues in a conversational tone, "what _does_ motivate you?"

Kruulvog shrugs, then chuckles. "Honestly, for most of my life hitherto? Survival. Still, I like the company of snakes. I actually spent the past few years in the wilderness of the jungle island of Navara on the fringes of the Yuan-ti empire. But I find their demon-cult fanaticism excessive and decided to see how this country might be. I don't mind a little fraternization with demons once in a while, but they have a certain proclivity for making a mountain out of a molehill. Take whatever suits you, but keep all things in comfortable moderation, I say. But as mother says, Different strokes for different folks."

"Demons have a way of being immoderate," she agrees. "And Navara... that's part of the Jade Islands, right? I've heard a bit about the Yuan-ti and the lizardfolk there, but not very much. What was that like, aside from snake-heavy?"

Kruulvog says, "I'd say that compared to the overwhelming diversity you find here, the Yuan-ti are much more focused, even organized. That is, their architecture is coordinated by their rulers to focus political and religious loyalty."

Yelrona thinks about that for a while, then shakes her head. "Definitely not for me, then," she concludes. "What took you to Navara?"

Kruulvog grins, "It was the first civilization I ever beheld. I grew up with my family on an isolated island. Occasionally, a ship would weigh anchor in our harbor, but we tended to protect our seclusion. Mother and father preferred isolation. Still when my brothers and I each reached adulthood, we and our parents a knowledged the need for us to see the wider world and at least seek wives. As it happened, it was a Yuan-ti slave ship that I stowed away aboard in order to leave my home island."

"I think you're the only person I've ever met who stowed away on a slave ship," Rona muses. "Mostly people try to sneak OFF of them. But in any case, welcome to Alexandria! And I wish you luck in your wife-seeking."

Kruulvog chuckles. He says, "Thanks. Although, I'm in no hurry on that account. As for stowing away on slave ship, I really had no concept then, but I guess the lord of luck favored me."

Yelrona smiles. "All thanks to Tarien, then." Her stew arrives, and she takes a taste of it with a spoon from her pocket. "Hm. Not horrible," she says, surprised. "Admittedly, I'm not one to chastise anyone else for that sort of carelessness... I got myself captured by Mythwood slavers when I was still a child, after all. I'm just glad it worked out for you."