. . . as the last customers leave. Derrick wipes down the oak bar with an ugly blue checkered rag. He grins mischieviously as he thinks about wince it came. He starts collecting the empty tankards when he hears the door to the Inn creak open. He looks up expectantly... but it isn't who he thought. . .
A faint familiar whistling could be heard as the barbarian walked up. "Another good night eh? A little slow though," stated Jharl "Why the long face?"
"What?!" blurted Derrick. "Bah! Nothin" Derrick turned tosses the tankards into a bucket.
"Well we didn't get a single act tonight... " said Jharl glancing over at the weekly poster.
"Some lass told a fair tale while yer was gone. So I gave her a meal on the house."
"Oh? Well not a true competition with only one contestant anyway... and I was all set with a tale of my own..." *Whistles The Song of the Scarlet Hawk.
"Surely with all the folk runnin around they would be innerested in a somethin like this. Maybe I should make the prize a little more. . . tempting."
Derrick takes the poster down and alters it. "How bout this?" Derrick turns the posture to Jharl.
"Oh say now, thats quite a prize. If that doesn't draw some fine entertainment... nothing will."
Derrick Nods. "I'll make up some better posters an have a runner take em around."
"We should have another Competition of the Drink soon as well," stated Jharl.
"We will... when Kali returns."
"Now... about our new endevour." Derrick unfurls a large scroll. . .
