Seeing that his 'prey' is clearly a dwarf and reasonably civil, Trombin picks out a particularly large branch and breaks it with his boot. He wants to grab the dwarfs attention and scare him a little at the same time.
"Who are you, dwarf?! Why do you travel alone and creep near our camp? Are there more of you?! GRINDAL! TANNEN!! Get over here!!"
Trombin brandished his sword as he demanded answers.
“Well hello there” Ragna says as he is startled. “Who in Mordiams name are you and why should I follow you?” Ragna yells back pulling out his war hammer.
"You didn't answer my question, you just asked me another one! What is your name and are you alone?"
Trombin relaxes a bit once Grindals approach is slightly casual but he doesn't lower his sword. He doesn't trust this stranger and the loss of his friend is still fresh.
Not taking any chances, I throw on my metal-scaled shirt and buckler and rush out to the road still fumbling with the straps. Seeing my companions relaxed, I stop and give a amiable "hello."
"Wait, so his name is Mordiams and he's coming with us?"
Feeling a bit rushed “My name is Ragana Thunderspike. I am a faith servant of Mordrain and I am out on my pilgrimage to bring the fire of Mordrain to others and I am am never alone. Mordrain watches me and guides me.” Ragna says with confidence.
Trombin lowers his sword and let's out a sigh of relief.
"Ragana, it is unusual for lone wanderers in these parts. Forgive me. My Name is Trombin Black. I don't suppose you are trained to heal are you? Our group was ambushed by goblins and I'm in bad shape. I will compensate you of course.."
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“It would be my honor mate” Ragna says Trombin. “Bring me your injured and I will heal” Ragna sets his pack down then pulls out his ritual stuff. He begins his prayer to Mordrain. He then lays his hands in the first one.
"Thank you Ragna, it seems I didn't need it after all but I appreciate your willingness. Where is your destination? We must get this cart to Phandalin, I assume we are heading out shortly, is that correct Grindal, Tannen?"
“ I will travel with you if don’t mind this old dwarf helping you out. I must help those less fortunate then myself according to the tenants of my faith.” Ragna responds to others.
"Couldn't agree more you crabby old cole miner! Let's get to it!"
Trombin hops up on the caravan and grabs the reigns. He waits for anyone who wants to hop on board and then whips up the horses in the direction of Phandalin.
You make good time, and the day delivers on all it promised. With only a short stop for breakfast, you arrive at the small town of Phandalin at noon the same day. The little settlement is bustling and friendly, promising good food and good lodging for travelers.
"Barthen's Provisions", Grindal reminds the halfling. "Let's finish this job quickly, halfling. Me loins are itchin' ta get back ta that ambush site and find some more goblins ta skewer."
At Grindals grumbling directions Trombin whips up the horses towards Barthens Provisions. He pulls the cart up front and hops down from the drivers seat.
"Last stop folks!" He yells as he slaps the cart.
He walks up to the front door and raps on it with three solid knocks.
The building is one of the largest in town, and made of red bricks.
"Eh? Come on inside, unless ye be an orc!" The voice inside, that of a young male human, laughs at his own joke. Another voice, much older, replies. "Don't be minding Ander's terrible wit."
The door opens, and a beaming middle-aged man with balding red hair beckons you in. "Welcome," He says, "To me humble shop!
Shelves run up and down the floor of the building, stuffed with more provisions and equipment then they were built to hold. Two young men look up from their seats at an old wooden desk, quills in hand. Almost any equipment an adventurer would need lies amidst the mess- that is, if said adventurer can find it.
Ragna leans his company name and helps at every stop. He keeps silent unless asked. When he does speak he talks about Dwarf values and how the other races could learn them.
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Seeing that his 'prey' is clearly a dwarf and reasonably civil, Trombin picks out a particularly large branch and breaks it with his boot. He wants to grab the dwarfs attention and scare him a little at the same time.
"Who are you, dwarf?! Why do you travel alone and creep near our camp? Are there more of you?! GRINDAL! TANNEN!! Get over here!!"
Trombin brandished his sword as he demanded answers.
“Well hello there” Ragna says as he is startled. “Who in Mordiams name are you and why should I follow you?” Ragna yells back pulling out his war hammer.
"Bah! The name's Grindal Goblinbane, and ye should follow us if ye like goblin kebabs!", Grindal says as he groggily stumbles over.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
"You didn't answer my question, you just asked me another one! What is your name and are you alone?"
Trombin relaxes a bit once Grindals approach is slightly casual but he doesn't lower his sword. He doesn't trust this stranger and the loss of his friend is still fresh.
Not taking any chances, I throw on my metal-scaled shirt and buckler and rush out to the road still fumbling with the straps. Seeing my companions relaxed, I stop and give a amiable "hello."
"Wait, so his name is Mordiams and he's coming with us?"
Feeling a bit rushed “My name is Ragana Thunderspike. I am a faith servant of Mordrain and I am out on my pilgrimage to bring the fire of Mordrain to others and I am am never alone. Mordrain watches me and guides me.” Ragna says with confidence.
Trombin lowers his sword and let's out a sigh of relief.
"Ragana, it is unusual for lone wanderers in these parts. Forgive me. My Name is Trombin Black. I don't suppose you are trained to heal are you? Our group was ambushed by goblins and I'm in bad shape. I will compensate you of course.."
“It would be my honor mate” Ragna says Trombin. “Bring me your injured and I will heal” Ragna sets his pack down then pulls out his ritual stuff. He begins his prayer to Mordrain. He then lays his hands in the first one.
10
Ragna, Trombin has already been healed by his long rest, so I can give you back that spell slot.
Flayr Flameseeker | Genasi/Fire | Wizard/School of Evocation | Level 2 | Custom Campaign: Cold Cash
"Thank you Ragna, it seems I didn't need it after all but I appreciate your willingness. Where is your destination? We must get this cart to Phandalin, I assume we are heading out shortly, is that correct Grindal, Tannen?"
“ I will travel with you if don’t mind this old dwarf helping you out. I must help those less fortunate then myself according to the tenants of my faith.” Ragna responds to others.
"Splendid! Welcome to the... wait, what should we call ourselves?"
"The Lollygaggers is what we call ourselves, warlock! Let's get our arses movin', we have goblin kebabs to make"
Grindal immediately starts impatiently marching toward Phandalin before waiting for a response.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
"Couldn't agree more you crabby old cole miner! Let's get to it!"
Trombin hops up on the caravan and grabs the reigns. He waits for anyone who wants to hop on board and then whips up the horses in the direction of Phandalin.
You make good time, and the day delivers on all it promised. With only a short stop for breakfast, you arrive at the small town of Phandalin at noon the same day. The little settlement is bustling and friendly, promising good food and good lodging for travelers.
Flayr Flameseeker | Genasi/Fire | Wizard/School of Evocation | Level 2 | Custom Campaign: Cold Cash
"Finally, I'm starving! Where do we need to drop this cart? I suppose we can sell these saddle bags and garlic while were at it.."
Trombin is still at the helm, asking his companions for the name of the establishment they needed to drop the supplies.
"Barthen's Provisions", Grindal reminds the halfling. "Let's finish this job quickly, halfling. Me loins are itchin' ta get back ta that ambush site and find some more goblins ta skewer."
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
At Grindals grumbling directions Trombin whips up the horses towards Barthens Provisions. He pulls the cart up front and hops down from the drivers seat.
"Last stop folks!" He yells as he slaps the cart.
He walks up to the front door and raps on it with three solid knocks.
The building is one of the largest in town, and made of red bricks.
"Eh? Come on inside, unless ye be an orc!" The voice inside, that of a young male human, laughs at his own joke. Another voice, much older, replies. "Don't be minding Ander's terrible wit."
The door opens, and a beaming middle-aged man with balding red hair beckons you in. "Welcome," He says, "To me humble shop!
Shelves run up and down the floor of the building, stuffed with more provisions and equipment then they were built to hold. Two young men look up from their seats at an old wooden desk, quills in hand. Almost any equipment an adventurer would need lies amidst the mess- that is, if said adventurer can find it.
Flayr Flameseeker | Genasi/Fire | Wizard/School of Evocation | Level 2 | Custom Campaign: Cold Cash
Ragna leans his company name and helps at every stop. He keeps silent unless asked. When he does speak he talks about Dwarf values and how the other races could learn them.