Fellowship of the Goose
The small inn is a popular drinking hole for caravan guards and drovers looking to clear the dust from their throats. The Dwarf is open day and night, and at any time of the day there are always a dozen or more hirelings drinking and dicing in the dark tavern. The Brass Dwarf is renowned for its spiced potatoes, stout ale, and unpretentious company.
The tavern is owned and operated by Tarinos One-Thumb, a balding bear of a man, quick to quell a fight with stern words or, when those fail, the head of his mace. The two-handed mace hangs over the bar, its scored pommel recording the number of heads Tarinos has cracked over the years. Sharp-eyed patrons claim there are over 150 score marks on the mace’s pommel, but those who encounter the business end of the mace seldom are able to recall the experience.
Resting on the beam just above the mace is the brass dwarf itself. Various rumors claim that the brass dwarf is a divine relic, an artifact, or even the legendary dwarf lord who was consumed by avarice—and turned to brass and shrunk to the size of a statuette.