The Drowsy Dwarf is unusually quiet for this time of the afternoon.<br/><br/>You know that this is at least partially because the planting festival has ended, and the majority of the sell-swords who had been hired as security have all moved on. Hells, the taskmaster's wall is almost empty now, when just four days ago it had been almost completely lined with wanted posters. Now, a measly five posters hang on the wall... the pickings left behind by the feeding-frenzy of adventurers-for-hire looking to get their names heard.<br/><br/>Aside from the one-armed old Dwarf who owns the tavern, the room is practically empty. The only serving girl left is Gioria, the gnome. As always, her bright green hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail that hangs down to her ankles, and threaded through with what she calls her “flair.” The little baubles are connected by thin chains to her neck, wrists, and ankles, where still more charms tinkle about. Despite this, she moves around the room like a hummingbird, making sure every table is as spotless as the day it was crafted, only stopping for a moment to take you in as you enter before flitting off again.<br/><br/>Not that their patron cares. Fred is posted up on his usual corner of the bar, his dark glasses shrouding his eyes even in this dim light. As far as drunks go, he's pretty harmless... but a real pain in the ass sometimes. Your first introduction to the joys of Fred came when he looked out the window to the sky, stood up, declared the time of day, and began banging on the bar shouting “WHERE'S MY ICE!?” for a good two minutes before slouching back down and going to sleep.<br/><br/>Since your own contract with the festival organizers ends today, your time is wholly your own now. According to the tally sheet you were given by the clergymen who hired you, though, your room and board is paid for at least another two days...