Doen ponders the situation for a bit, or least it looks llike she does, before speaking. "He hasn't been himself? I see. Well I have a few questions like, what's your name? What is soda? If you are selling dogs why don't I hear barking? And do you have any suspects about who may have turned Mr. Barley human?"

The serving girl is overwhelmed by Doen's questions, trying to get an answer in sideways. "Elissa... It's a sort of bubbly flavored... um, not dogs, hot dogs, they... Mr. Barley... what? He's always been human."

Mr. Barley stops as the little frogman lands in front of him. "Yes, well," he says, "I don't know what the 'crap' you speak of is, but I haven't been able to make my soda since Marley disappeared." He sighs very deeply. "You see," he says, expositing without provocation, "when my father and his brother passed down the recipe to me and my brother, I was only told a portion, and Marley was only told another portion, so that Barley Brothers was always made by brothers. Neither of us has the full recipe, and thus can't make it alone. And then Marley vanished, and with him, the portion of the recipe I don't know."

"I... but... you can't just make part of a cream soda."

Doraad tried to recall how this kind of situation would have been treated back home. In the end, the cultural archtype was just too powerful: this was a lost secret of a previous age. The sort of thing that would renew the fortunes of a culinary empire and bring all potential competitors to their knees. Such a quest would have been treated with the highest degree of reverence, and a warrior that embarked on such a quest not only achieved great personal honor, but did so knowing that what he retrieved had satisfied his duty to his clan and forebearers. The fact that this was about soda did not really change things.

It sure made him feel silly, but even if the rest wasn't true, the group had already wasted enough time and money that heading back without the danged soda was equally so. Therefore Doraad pestered Mr. Barley with several questions:

"What happened to Mr. Marley? Did neither of you or your father leave backups in case one of you died young? Do either of you know of the orcs that live nearby or a local hermit or their proclivities for drink? And most importantly... if we help you find the recipe, is there any of the soda that has already been produced that we could purchase once supply is no longer an issue? "

Elissa continues to try to keep up with Doen. "No, the... they aren't actual dogs. They're sausages. 'Hot dog' is just what they're called. And I meant, Mr. Barley is in a bad mood since his brother vanished, not that he became a different person."

Mr. Barley himself answers the questions freely, if somewhat bitterly. "I have no idea what this Hermit's ginger ale is, but Barley Brothers Cream Soda is made with pride, and we don't take half-measures. Marley disappeared a couple of weeks ago, and no. Per father's wishes, we never compared our parts of the recipe." He sighs. "As for the Hermit, there was an old man living in a tree very near the Caves of Chaos. More a nuisance for adventurers than a soft-drink mogul, but I suppose he did know the orcs that live in the caves. And yes, if you can help me find the missing portion of the recipe, you will never pay for another bottle of cream soda again. I'll supply you for life."