Cleaning the espresso machine

The decadent stationary machine sat on the counter with its fancy levers and pull outs fashioned by Dwarven smiths in Glimmerhold to the east. Inside the machine was powered by a magical conduit that periodically had to be replaced. Angus Cod hated buying more as they were the hurdle for most establishments entertaining such an expensive trade. Pour overs were simple, and Elvish presses were neat but delicate, but nothing quite hit like a magically heated espresso poured out of a spigot from ore harvested from within the planet. Havilah loved an espresso, she regularly would take multiple shots for peak times. Angus had stopped that recently as she shredded through grounds like nothing. Even Angus Cod could become wise to something so conspicuous.

Taking a rag to its pieces the waif turned her ear to a grizzled woodsman talking to a companion.

“Aye, it were out in the caves near the Gryph marshes, I saw it with me own eyes! I smelled the rot, and I threw my spears, they dared not show themselves!”

Havilah’s brain buzzed up, she knew that Gryphs commonly ate phycomids, and that the smell of gryphs is unpleasant, but not rotting. Still the description given by the huntsman was insufficient.

“Be it a Gryph?” The Ranger compatriot asked, engrossed.

“Nay, I think it were something larger. Gryphs are small things, no taller than the wench. Nay, they were likely hobgoblins, the lot you fighting?”

“Ye, nasty shits, ain’t tiny neither,” the Ranger replied.

The huntsman then coughed loudly, “not my fight. Those years are gone.”

+10 Perception (search for Phycomid)