“I trust you have no problem with underage drinking,” Ru-lah asked.

“My dear paladin, I have been stealing swings of every mug since I was six!”

“That explains a lot, actually,” she replied, turning to conceal her smile.

Trickster snorted derisively as she opened the door to the bar. The building’s interior was quite the sight. Sagging pillars held up a treacherously low and ill built second story. Mismatched tables and chairs were littered all over the place. A large fire burned in a hearth wreathed with hunting trophies and weapons on display. In a strange corner of the common area, three musicians played lazily on their stringed instruments and flute.

Ru-lah was interested with the many pictures hanging on the walls. Some were painted well and others not so well. Others looked like something more akin to real photographs. There were also many scrolls nailed between the pictures and protruding candles, which helped to add some light to the large, slumped room. Two boards displayed different jobs that needed doing. One was near the long bar, and the other was right by the entry.

A haze of smoke, colored with many different smells lazily hung in the air. Opening the door caused them to visibly swirl. There were a handful of patrons. At least nine with an initial count, not including the musicians and two barkeeps. A few of them looked up from either their platters of drinks to give the newcomers a quick glance and then returned to their business.

Exactly what Ru-lah would have expected for a bar.

Though maybe this was a little more colorful than what she had supposed they would find. She led Trickster right up to the bar and took a seat. There was no need to rap for the bartender. He came right to them.

He was a tall creature with blue fur, slicked back oily. He had long, pointed ear with white tuff. He had both tusks and fangs. He wore a vest and white shirt that sported a lot of stains from food and drinks.

“What can I get you two adventurers,” he asked in a rumbling voice.

“I will take a mug of your best ale,” Ru-lah said.

Trickster slid onto his seat and replied, “I would like a mug of butterbeer.”

Both the paladin and bartender gave him a strange look.

“What? I really like the taste of the stuff! And if I can get it here, that’ll be even more memorable than going to Universal!”

The bartender replied slowly, “Well, if you have business to be about, good Master, then I guess a drink merely for the taste will be just fine. And a mug of our home best for the Lady Paladin. Very good!”

He then shuffled off to get them their drinks, and Ru-lah hissed to Trickster, “We’re here to blend in and get information! You need to order something that will help out with that! Butterbeer is weak stuff.”

“If you say so,” Trickster shrugged. “So we’re here for information gathering. Real classy.”

“More like it’s classic. We can find some good information here fi we ask the right questions. And for that to happen, I’ll be the one to ask them.”

“What? I was the one who led the investigation with the werewolf!”

“And you bungled about in the dark most of the time until those kids made a hasty decision with that vampire,” Ru-lah reminded him.

“And if I need remind you, you confused lichen with lycan for most of that adventure,” Trickster laughed.

She slugged him hard in the arm and he toppled out of his seat. That made her laugh. As he got back up she started talking to him again.

“That was an easy mistake,” she said lightly. “If you don;t know proper pronunciation when looking at the word on paper, it is easy to mispronounce it and get it mixed up with another word. Could happen to anybody. Now stop it! Stop, or I’ll hit you again.

“We need to see what this bartender might know about the situation. In these types of role playing games bars, shops, and back alleys are the best places to find information that is helpful to understanding the overall plot. Beats finding a boss and fighting him to get what you want.”

The bartender returned with their drinks and informed them that it would be one gold and two silver for the drinks. Ru-lah opened the sack of gold that they had gotten from the dead enemies on the street. She fished out two gold and handed them over. There was also a necklace with a golden sun crossed with a crescent moon and a ruby shaped like a star in the middle. As the bartender made change for her, she pulled out the necklace and inspected it.

Looking up from his cash drawer, the furry barkeep yelped. “Where did you get that pendant?”

Perfect, Ru-lah thought. Looks like this is going to be even easier than I thought. Our reward was more than just gold.

Trickster gave the necklace and appraising look, but said nothing. He just sipped his butterbeer. The barkeep leaned forward, his eyes wide. It was just then that Ru-lah remembered something. Berating herself, she held the necklace away from him.

“I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”

Licking his lips, he said, “My name is Rumbleton, my good paladin.”

“And I’m Ru-lah. A little interesting isn’t it, that a barkeeper would omit the traditional niceties and not greet us with his name? I should have seen it.”

“My mistake,” he said shakily.

“I’ll forgive you, and not spread this bad reputation everywhere I go if you will answer my questions in full,” Ru-lah insisted.

“That sounds like a fine trade,” he said slowly. “Yes, I think that will work just fine.”

“Great, then we can start with this,” she said briskly, holding up the strange pendant. “Where does it come from?”

Rumbleton shrugged. “Search me about where it comes from, but I saw it around the neck of the Drow wizard, Akerbaza. He was a part of the guild, the Motley Lot.”

Trickster snorted. “The Motley Lot?”

The bartender frowned. “Surely you’ve heard of them! They are among the most heroic and capable warriors east of the Storm Seas! Look, I even have a portrait of them!”

Taking their mugs, Ru-lah and Trickster followed Rumbleton to the far side of the room where some of the best paintings and pictures hung between bright candles. It depicted a typical, multi-racial Dungeons and Dragons group. They were all striking heroic poses with one exception being an orc bard. She was rocking out on lyre-guitar-horn thing.

A big dragonborn dominated the background of the picture, with a drow on his left, a drow with a floppy, once pointed hat with all kinds of ruins on and his robes. One the right arm was a half elf priestess, with stereotypical blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. And then there was a burly, scruffy man, dressed as a warrior-ranger, taking up the center. Ru-lah almost missed him, but there was also a dwarf peering over the edge of the picture frame. They looked the part of a capable but silly party.

“The Motley Lot,” Rumbleton said, with a flourish of his hand. “You had Swordalot as the dashing ladies man of the group, though the dragonborn Dragorick could give him a run for his money. They always new the right things to say and do. Men claim to know women, but these men actually did.”

“Fat chance of that,” Ru-lah muttered. “But what makes them such a revered group?”

Rumbleton rapped the picture with his knuckles and said, “You see that drow there? Akerbaza wanted to redeem his people’s name, and so he teamed up with Izmerelda to find the things that they could do well in the world. First they used their magic to bless others and provide solutions to difficult problems. They ran into Garfunkle there, the dwarf that is almost out of the picture. Yes, that’s right.

“See, the drawfish mines of Dwenovar were overrun by Grey Gnomes and drakes. They hired extra muscle in the form of Dragorick, and along the way they ran into Swordalot and his good friend and companion Lazylie, the orc right there. They were an odd group, to be sure, but they were exactly what was needed to free Dwenovar.”

It was almost as if Ru-lah could feel the dice being rolled. She quickly understood that the Grey Gnomes were a strange breed of gnome created from a failed experiment. It left them with only half a soul. As a result they became vicious and very greedy, hard to kill, and magic resistant. But it came with the cost of their intelligence.

“Let me guess,” Ru-lah said. “It was Akerbaza and Izmerelda who figured out how to outfox the Grey Gnomes and dfeat them?”

“Precisely! They got them to all converge in an underground pit and a well under construction. By creating a choking point with a clever trap, they dumped half the army into the pit and well, clogging them with bodies. The drastic change in numbers allowed the dwarfs to rally and win the day,” the bartender explained animatedly.

“It looks like the drow really liked the half elf,”Trickster observed.

“What makes you say that,” Rumbleton asked.

“He found someone close to his race who sympathized with him and worked with him. Plus, she’s too beautiful to not be attracted to,” the thief explained.

Ru-lah turned to him and asked, “How is that important to us?”

Trickster shook his head and said, “It means nothing until we meet them. Except that this pendant that we found is around her neck.”

He pointed back to the painting. With another glance Ru-lah saw that it was true. Trust Trickster to catch these little details. That is what had kept him alive against so many enemies all this long while.

“Did it look like they were close,” Ru-lah asked Rumbleton.

Rubbing his chin, the big man replied, “They were very close friends. But it was clear as day to me that Swordalot really cared for Izmerelda, and by all accounts I’d wager she felt the same for him. She and Akerbaza were just good friends.”

Trickster’s face darkened. “This is beginning to sound very familiar.”

“Possibly, but we cannot draw that conclusion yet. We need to know more.” Ru-lah then asked, “Where is the Motley Lot now?”

“After their excellent performance in the mines, the Lot were asked to do many things for many different people. However, they only took the jobs that Akerbaza felt would do them the most good. So they traveled the continent, helping poor kingdoms, town, and besieged cities. Last I heard, they took up the very dangerous task of battling the Lich Troll King. And they won, too! How they managed, I cannot say.”

“Troll Lich King,” Trickster asked frankly.

“Aye,” the barkeep said, bobbing his head. “A big, undead troll, with command over the undead and an army of trolls to boot! He was created as a curse upon the land. Destined to overthrow every kingdom it was said. Three smaller princedoms and a kingdom already fell to him before the Motley Lot had their way with him and his armies.”

“Fascinating. I would love to learn more,” Ru-lah said. “But for now, I think the important question is how a pendant that was obviously important to two people in the Motley Lot fell into the purse of street thieves who attacked us here?”

“As to that, I would have no idea,” Rumbleton admitted. “The Kingdom of Tocahacot is far away from here. It was their king and his family who hired the Lot for that particular job.”

“Then I think we have found the object of our quest,” Trickster said. “It must be to locate this group and find out what has really happened to them.”

“Or it could be a side quest,” Ru-lah pointed out. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions too hastily. But this could be an important clue. The pendant and the story. But for now, let’s just rest and get a bite to eat.”

“I can make sure your bellies are filled,” Rumbleton promised.

They took him up on his word and ordered large platters of chicken, bread, and vegetable stew. As they waited and later ate, Ru-lah continued to press for more information about what was going on in the world. It disturbed her to hear that there was nothing big or dangerous going on, except for maybe a lot of strangers passing through.

She figured it meant that what they were experiencing was multiple games stitched together. Many different stories, worlds, and plots were being haphazardly stitched together. What that all exactly meant, she was not sure. But it gave her a feeling similar to what they had experienced with the weirdness in Utah and the attack from the Jed in Memmelsruhe.

The idea of stories and worlds colliding. There was a common thread between these four cases they had had. Werewolves and vampires working together to open a door. Some kind of doors were being opened to admit creatures from movies, stories, and different universe all to come to Earth. But it was always localized and hushed up. What exactly was going on?

As she pondered all of this, Trickster spoke up, “We’re about to have some real trouble…”

“What makes you say that?”

“The fact that about twenty armed men are about to enter through the front door.”

And that is precisely what happened next.