This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Randalph puffs his pipe for a bit, with his brow furrowed.
(pointing and mumbling to himself)
"Twenty seven for the, no, no, twenty five... carry the three..Very well, 115 gold then."
"My counsel is free to those I choose to give it to. Weather they want it, or not! Haha!"
"Tutelage, now, that is different, you see. To ask a wizard for his knowledge, especially on magic... no, no, no. I would have to meet the man, you see. I would have to know him... and his magic too, you know. You say your master practices sorcerery... are you quite sure? It's magic of the blood, you see. Mixed parentage, very interesting, dragon blood often times, though angels and demons sometimes as well, even fey on occation. My magic is from study... and memorization, you see. I could no more teach Silence to a sorcerer than I could Wish to a warlock. Pact mages, those warlocks, very dangerous. They draw power from planar entities, you know. Make deals with devils and the like, very nasty, very nasty indeed. No, nothing I could teach a sorcerer, well, rituals perhaps... but with time and training, anyone can learn those, I suppose. But even then, very expensive, yes, quite expensive indeed.
"Private you say... hmmmm...yes, yes, I know just the place. One moment... don't move now...yes, here we go."
Randalph grabs some chalk off of one of the counters and draws some runes on the floor in a circle. He then slams his staff on the ground causing the runes to glow with arcane power.
His voice booms and echos, speaking the words of power:"From this gate we shall now leave, connect to its mate, by wyrd and weave.".
Draconic Translation: "From this gate we shall now leave, to exit its mate, by wyrd and weave."
The glowing runes erupt with a blinding flash. As his eyes begin to adjust, Kale finds himself with Randalph no longer in the magic shop, but rather in a small cottage. The air is colder and dryer here and has a more earthy smell to it. The floor of the cabin is made of stone, a similar circle to the one Randalph just drew is permanently etched into the stone floor.
"Oh dear, quite chilly in here, that won't do (ahem-hem) no, not at all. Well now, we'll have to fix that now, won't we."
Randalph lights a fire, using prestidigitation and begins bustling around the cottage.
Kael is momentarily out of sorts as he finds himself in the cottage, a far cry from the stonework tower they'd been in a moment ago. As Randalph busied himself around the fireplace, Kael took a seat at the small oak table. When it became clear Randalph was absorbed in his work, he chose to speak.
"Pardon the ruse, but in truth I am the new sorcerer. The nature of my...assosciates back in the city make it prudent for me to obscure my identity in public. I'm the one seeking tutelage."
As he says this, he absently fumbles with the sheathed dagger in his hands.
"Yes, yes, I had my suspicions. Bit of a gamble I took on you. That chalk was fifty gold, you know."
Randalph dusts off a rocking chair and pulls it close to the fire, indicating to Kael to find a chair and do the same. Randalph looks around the cottage clearly displeased with the ammount of dust. He takes a deep breath and sighs, then lifts his spectacles and rubs the bridge of his nose.
"So young sorcerer, as you can see, it is quite private here. What is it you desire, hmmmm? Why do you wish to learn magic, and why should I teach you, hmmm?"
Randalph raises a single bushy eyebrow and stares piercingly at Kael through rounded lenses.
Kael follows Randalph's gesture and sits on a footstool, resting his gaze on the crackling fire as he ponderd his response. Why did he want to learn to master his powers? They'd appeared of their will; he hadn't asked for them, nor sought them out. He'd awoken one day and suddenly felt different, and realized he could tap this new energy within himself to conjure fire and illusion. Getting better was simply natural. He opened his mouth to respon-
Burn the world.
He stopped, confused. The thought had crossed his mind unbidden, almost as though it was someone else's. It was difficult to grasp, but like a footprint, there was a lingering piece of evidence - you couldn't quite grasp the scope of the thing, but you had an idea of its impact and, with time, coukd follow the thread where it would lead.
Why did he want to learn to master his powers? He hadn't chosen them - they'd chosen him. It was as though fate itself had laid jidgmemt upon his wretched life, outcast, and meted out some measure of justice by equipping him with the power to correct his perceived subordination. In his hand was power, and he could use the power to reshape his life.
He responded.
"My powers manifested only recently; I had no inkling for magic prior to a few weeks ago and have had only meager practice in the meantime. Still, what I can do intrigues me - I can conjure illusions, disguise myself, make a show of lights. And the thing is...I know I am capable of more. Better. With the right knowledge, I can do great things.
I was forced to become a thief from a young age. A thief I remain out of practical necessity, and out of a sense of familiarity. I am unsure I'm capable of much else. But what I am sure of is that with my powers, I am capable of being the greatest thief alive, such as will be known across the world. I can become a legend, and I want you to help me."
Randalph sits listening to Kael tell his story. He then leans back in his chair, lights his pipe, and takes a long draw.
"A skilled thief has little need for magic, young sorcerer. Nor does a skilled mage have much need to steal... "
Randalph lets the words sink in before continuing.
"As I said, there is little magic I can teach you. Sorcery is not a transfer of knowledge as wizardry, you see. It is a transfer of emotion. It is calling out to the innate magic in your blood. Through focus, you could empower your magic to perform feats beyond any wizard. This is the gift of sorcery, you see. But, the focus required to develop the raw power of blood magic also means you will have little time to time or energy to learn a great variety of spells, nor greatly develop your other skills. This is the curse of sorcery."
Randalph continues taking puffs from his pipe.
"I have studied sorcery, you know. Never practiced it, mind you... never had the gift, you see."
Kael ponders that answer. So it was more what was within that any apprenticeship may offer. Unfortunate, but that suited him better. He often had attention span issues when reading or hearing lectures anyway. He stands, and brushes himself off to signal his readiness to leave.
"You've given me some things to ponder but that's as may be, wizard. I'll go listening and see what I find.
As per our arrangement, I trust I can rely on you for the odd bit of lore or appraisal in the future?"
"What? Leaving already? Hmmmm... yes I suppose, things to do and all that... very well young sorcerer"
Randalph grumbles something about "young people" under his breath.
As Kael stands in the circle inscribed on the stone floor, Randalph speaks the words of power once more. With another blinding flash, Kael finds himself standing outside the mage shop alone. The sun is now getting lower on the horizon as evening approaches.
Kael is again momentarily disoriented by the transit, but collects himself and stands at the foot of the Pyre. He had a feeling he woukd be visiting here again one day.
Turning, he ventures across the bridge and into the twilight gloom, back toward the Salty Dog.
In a distant land across the sea, tucked in between the foothills of a great mountain range and the bottom of grassy hills, lay a large village of hobbits. Secluded from almost all, they enjoyed the ideal life for any halfling. One night the sky grew dark and the ground began to tremble so violently that the mountain itself cracked. Bugbears poured out of the mountain and began to attack the town. The town was mainly defenseless. Most hobbits that fought back were slaughtered, but one clan of hobbits seemed to have a knack for bloodshed. Dhrom's father rallied his men with a mighty bellow from a horn. Dhrom begged his father to let him come, he had been training for years already. Dhrom's request was denied and he was ordered to stay home....but orders were for his father's soldiers and he wasn't one yet. Dhrom stealthily followed his father and watched as the mightiest battle in all of the villages history waged forth. As he watched it seemed to Dhrom that the halflings had the upper hand. Until they saw where the drums were coming from. The largest bugbears to have ever stepped on this earth emerged from the mountain. Dhrom watched as his father's head was crushed by the bugbears mace. He burst forth from his hiding spot driven only by his rage. Running towards his father's body, slashing and bashing any enemy in his way until he stood in front of the monster that killed his father. Driven only by blood lust, Dhrom slayed the mighty bugbear and turned towards the others. With a look of chaos in his eyes Dhrom killed the other large bugbears and the hobbits once again pushed the bugbears back into the mountain. Although Dhrom saved the village, you would not think so by the way he was treated. He was not greeted as a hero of war but shunned as a monster. The halflings had never seen one of their own be overtaken by blood lust. That kind of rage was rarely seen in a hobbit and it scared them. Haunted by what he had seen and done, Dhrom left the village. Casting himself into exile, he wandered the land searching for a way to remove the hate that is so deep in his heart. Dhrom arrived in Nyanzaru a little over a year ago. Hearing of the wilds that filled the area, he traveled here in hope to tame the beast inside him so he may one day return to the little village tucked at the bottom of the mountain.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dhromm Gozin awoke as sunlight crept through the open slit in his tent. He sat up and pushed back the flap on his tent. His gaze drifted across the nearby farms to the sun rising over the bay.It was all familiar to him, he had awoken this way everyday for year that he had been here. The view was peaceful and serene, part of him loved it but the other part of him despised it. Dhromm could feel his rage beginning to swell, as it did vivid flashes of the battle came back to him. He closed his eyes and began to take slow deep breathes, as he did he could feel his rage subsiding. Once he had completed his morning ritual, Dhromm knew he needed to find work today. Since arriving here Dhromm found work only when he needed to, the rest of the time was spent focusing on himself trying to find peace with what he had done. Someday he would free himself from his past and begin to move on with his life, unfortunatly that day wasn't today. He made food by the fire,donned his ax and shield and headed into towards town to look for work.
The walk up the road through the Tiryki Anchorage was not far from his humble camp to the edge of the city, a mile perhaps to the gates of Port Nyanzaru. Tiryki was a fisherman's wharf outside the walls of the main city. Much like "Old City" and "Malar's Throat", Tiryki was where the common people often found their residence and their lively hood. The smell of the fish markets here at first overwhelmed Dhromm, but in the last year he had become accustomed to the pungent aroma. There were few other shops in Tiryki, the businesses that did exist were geared toward support of the fishermen and sailors.
As Dhromm made his way up the worn cobblestone road, he came to a large board near the gate to Nyanzaru with various postings for work.
A few board postings caught Dhromm's eye: "Town guard seeking to fill recent openings." -see Sgt. M. Jamison at the guardhouse barracks "Cart driver needed to help with delivery. Must have strong nerves and back." - Hyde Sails and Canvas "Be ye strong? Be ye tough? Fighters come and prove yer stuff" -Broken Bottle Tavern
Dhromm stared at the sign as he considered the options. Although he enjoyed an occasional visit to the Broken Bottle, he felt no need to prove himself in a bar brawl or other drunken contest. The guard position would be familiar to him, remind him of home almost, but as he thought about it he knew that it was not a job that would help him find peace. So he started off down the worn road toward Hyde Sails and Canvas.
The road curved south towards the docs where many fishermen made harbor. The canvas shop was easy to find. Before Dhromm stood a barn like structure. Like many other buildings near the docks, it's grey exterior had clearly been weathered by storms and sea spray. A sign made from copper characters, now green from the elements, spelled out "Hyde Canvas Co." As Dhromm approached, the smell of fish and sea were overpowered by the more pungent aromas of dyes and bleach. Two large windows looked into the structure from the street, in between which stood a sliding double door. A smaller sign of painted wood hung in one of the windows. It simply spelled out the word "OPEN". Through the window Dhromm could make out several human men stitching large sections of cloth.
A few of the men cease working momentarily and look to the eldest of the group before returning to their labor. A human man in his fifties approaches Dhromm, a distant and pained look in his eyes.
"I am Adrian Hyde... these men work for me. And yes, I am in need of a cart driver."
He looks at Dhromm inquisitively.
"Though this may be much to ask of you, little one."
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Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The corner of Mr. Hyde's mouth curls briefly up and his eyes sparkle briefly before returning to his sullen demeanor.
"I don't doubt the size of your heart lad. Nor that you need the work. Truthfully, I too need this delivery. But, this delivery must take a path outside the city. The road is rough and the dangers are many. The last delivery I sent did not return. Three of my own men... and my daughter."
Mr. Hyde's voice cracks and he shudders as he attempts to regain his composure.
"Forgive me young sir... I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a spot. I am indebted to Lord Strahd and cannot spare any more men to search, lest we lose everything. I am no fighter and too old to search myself for those who are lost. I have taken my plea to Sgt. Montgomery but he too has not the men to spare. So here I sit. I cannot stop production, yet neither can I deliver it seems (heh, hahaha)."
Mr. Hyde shrugs and shakes his head before he slumps down in a chair and begins to massage his brow.
Dhromm felt for the old man for he knew what it was like to lose family. Sadness and rage filled his heart as he thought of monsters attacking Hyde's daughter, which in turn made him think of his father.
"I'm sorry to hear about your daughter sir, but before I consider taking on such a perilous task, may I ask if you intend on me to take this journey alone? And where would I be delivering the cart to?"
Dhromm rested his palm on the bottom of the hilt of his ax and casually leaned himself against it, his other hand rubbing his chin in contemplation.
"You seem to have built yourself a fine business here sir, is it only recently that you have had troubles delivering your goods?"
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Randalph puffs his pipe for a bit, with his brow furrowed.
(pointing and mumbling to himself)
"Twenty seven for the, no, no, twenty five... carry the three..Very well, 115 gold then."
"My counsel is free to those I choose to give it to. Weather they want it, or not! Haha!"
"Tutelage, now, that is different, you see. To ask a wizard for his knowledge, especially on magic... no, no, no. I would have to meet the man, you see. I would have to know him... and his magic too, you know. You say your master practices sorcerery... are you quite sure? It's magic of the blood, you see. Mixed parentage, very interesting, dragon blood often times, though angels and demons sometimes as well, even fey on occation. My magic is from study... and memorization, you see. I could no more teach Silence to a sorcerer than I could Wish to a warlock. Pact mages, those warlocks, very dangerous. They draw power from planar entities, you know. Make deals with devils and the like, very nasty, very nasty indeed. No, nothing I could teach a sorcerer, well, rituals perhaps... but with time and training, anyone can learn those, I suppose. But even then, very expensive, yes, quite expensive indeed.
Persuasion 17
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Kael tosses a glance to the left, to the right, and over his shoulder before nodding.
"Very well then, you've got a deal. As for your student...for that, we'll have to speak somewhere a bit more private."
"Private you say... hmmmm...yes, yes, I know just the place. One moment... don't move now...yes, here we go."
Randalph grabs some chalk off of one of the counters and draws some runes on the floor in a circle. He then slams his staff on the ground causing the runes to glow with arcane power.
His voice booms and echos, speaking the words of power: "From this gate we shall now leave, connect to its mate, by wyrd and weave.".
Draconic Translation: "From this gate we shall now leave, to exit its mate, by wyrd and weave."
The glowing runes erupt with a blinding flash. As his eyes begin to adjust, Kale finds himself with Randalph no longer in the magic shop, but rather in a small cottage. The air is colder and dryer here and has a more earthy smell to it. The floor of the cabin is made of stone, a similar circle to the one Randalph just drew is permanently etched into the stone floor.
"Oh dear, quite chilly in here, that won't do (ahem-hem) no, not at all. Well now, we'll have to fix that now, won't we."
Randalph lights a fire, using prestidigitation and begins bustling around the cottage.
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Kael is momentarily out of sorts as he finds himself in the cottage, a far cry from the stonework tower they'd been in a moment ago. As Randalph busied himself around the fireplace, Kael took a seat at the small oak table. When it became clear Randalph was absorbed in his work, he chose to speak.
"Pardon the ruse, but in truth I am the new sorcerer. The nature of my...assosciates back in the city make it prudent for me to obscure my identity in public. I'm the one seeking tutelage."
As he says this, he absently fumbles with the sheathed dagger in his hands.
"Yes, yes, I had my suspicions. Bit of a gamble I took on you. That chalk was fifty gold, you know."
Randalph dusts off a rocking chair and pulls it close to the fire, indicating to Kael to find a chair and do the same. Randalph looks around the cottage clearly displeased with the ammount of dust. He takes a deep breath and sighs, then lifts his spectacles and rubs the bridge of his nose.
"So young sorcerer, as you can see, it is quite private here. What is it you desire, hmmmm? Why do you wish to learn magic, and why should I teach you, hmmm?"
Randalph raises a single bushy eyebrow and stares piercingly at Kael through rounded lenses.
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Kael follows Randalph's gesture and sits on a footstool, resting his gaze on the crackling fire as he ponderd his response. Why did he want to learn to master his powers? They'd appeared of their will; he hadn't asked for them, nor sought them out. He'd awoken one day and suddenly felt different, and realized he could tap this new energy within himself to conjure fire and illusion. Getting better was simply natural. He opened his mouth to respon-
Burn the world.
He stopped, confused. The thought had crossed his mind unbidden, almost as though it was someone else's. It was difficult to grasp, but like a footprint, there was a lingering piece of evidence - you couldn't quite grasp the scope of the thing, but you had an idea of its impact and, with time, coukd follow the thread where it would lead.
Why did he want to learn to master his powers? He hadn't chosen them - they'd chosen him. It was as though fate itself had laid jidgmemt upon his wretched life, outcast, and meted out some measure of justice by equipping him with the power to correct his perceived subordination. In his hand was power, and he could use the power to reshape his life.
He responded.
"My powers manifested only recently; I had no inkling for magic prior to a few weeks ago and have had only meager practice in the meantime. Still, what I can do intrigues me - I can conjure illusions, disguise myself, make a show of lights. And the thing is...I know I am capable of more. Better. With the right knowledge, I can do great things.
I was forced to become a thief from a young age. A thief I remain out of practical necessity, and out of a sense of familiarity. I am unsure I'm capable of much else. But what I am sure of is that with my powers, I am capable of being the greatest thief alive, such as will be known across the world. I can become a legend, and I want you to help me."
Randalph sits listening to Kael tell his story. He then leans back in his chair, lights his pipe, and takes a long draw.
"A skilled thief has little need for magic, young sorcerer. Nor does a skilled mage have much need to steal... "
Randalph lets the words sink in before continuing.
"As I said, there is little magic I can teach you. Sorcery is not a transfer of knowledge as wizardry, you see. It is a transfer of emotion. It is calling out to the innate magic in your blood. Through focus, you could empower your magic to perform feats beyond any wizard. This is the gift of sorcery, you see. But, the focus required to develop the raw power of blood magic also means you will have little time to time or energy to learn a great variety of spells, nor greatly develop your other skills. This is the curse of sorcery."
Randalph continues taking puffs from his pipe.
"I have studied sorcery, you know. Never practiced it, mind you... never had the gift, you see."
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Kael ponders that answer. So it was more what was within that any apprenticeship may offer. Unfortunate, but that suited him better. He often had attention span issues when reading or hearing lectures anyway. He stands, and brushes himself off to signal his readiness to leave.
"You've given me some things to ponder but that's as may be, wizard. I'll go listening and see what I find.
As per our arrangement, I trust I can rely on you for the odd bit of lore or appraisal in the future?"
"What? Leaving already? Hmmmm... yes I suppose, things to do and all that... very well young sorcerer"
Randalph grumbles something about "young people" under his breath.
As Kael stands in the circle inscribed on the stone floor, Randalph speaks the words of power once more. With another blinding flash, Kael finds himself standing outside the mage shop alone. The sun is now getting lower on the horizon as evening approaches.
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Kael is again momentarily disoriented by the transit, but collects himself and stands at the foot of the Pyre. He had a feeling he woukd be visiting here again one day.
Turning, he ventures across the bridge and into the twilight gloom, back toward the Salty Dog.
https://discord.gg/cn5EStb
Chapter 2 Dhromm Gozin
In a distant land across the sea, tucked in between the foothills of a great mountain range and the bottom of grassy hills, lay a large village of hobbits. Secluded from almost all, they enjoyed the ideal life for any halfling. One night the sky grew dark and the ground began to tremble so violently that the mountain itself cracked. Bugbears poured out of the mountain and began to attack the town. The town was mainly defenseless. Most hobbits that fought back were slaughtered, but one clan of hobbits seemed to have a knack for bloodshed. Dhrom's father rallied his men with a mighty bellow from a horn. Dhrom begged his father to let him come, he had been training for years already. Dhrom's request was denied and he was ordered to stay home....but orders were for his father's soldiers and he wasn't one yet. Dhrom stealthily followed his father and watched as the mightiest battle in all of the villages history waged forth. As he watched it seemed to Dhrom that the halflings had the upper hand. Until they saw where the drums were coming from. The largest bugbears to have ever stepped on this earth emerged from the mountain. Dhrom watched as his father's head was crushed by the bugbears mace. He burst forth from his hiding spot driven only by his rage. Running towards his father's body, slashing and bashing any enemy in his way until he stood in front of the monster that killed his father. Driven only by blood lust, Dhrom slayed the mighty bugbear and turned towards the others. With a look of chaos in his eyes Dhrom killed the other large bugbears and the hobbits once again pushed the bugbears back into the mountain. Although Dhrom saved the village, you would not think so by the way he was treated. He was not greeted as a hero of war but shunned as a monster. The halflings had never seen one of their own be overtaken by blood lust. That kind of rage was rarely seen in a hobbit and it scared them. Haunted by what he had seen and done, Dhrom left the village. Casting himself into exile, he wandered the land searching for a way to remove the hate that is so deep in his heart. Dhrom arrived in Nyanzaru a little over a year ago. Hearing of the wilds that filled the area, he traveled here in hope to tame the beast inside him so he may one day return to the little village tucked at the bottom of the mountain.
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Dhromm Gozin awoke as sunlight crept through the open slit in his tent. He sat up and pushed back the flap on his tent. His gaze drifted across the nearby farms to the sun rising over the bay.It was all familiar to him, he had awoken this way everyday for year that he had been here. The view was peaceful and serene, part of him loved it but the other part of him despised it. Dhromm could feel his rage beginning to swell, as it did vivid flashes of the battle came back to him. He closed his eyes and began to take slow deep breathes, as he did he could feel his rage subsiding. Once he had completed his morning ritual, Dhromm knew he needed to find work today. Since arriving here Dhromm found work only when he needed to, the rest of the time was spent focusing on himself trying to find peace with what he had done. Someday he would free himself from his past and begin to move on with his life, unfortunatly that day wasn't today. He made food by the fire,donned his ax and shield and headed into towards town to look for work.
Put your spoiler here.
(Perception)3
The walk up the road through the Tiryki Anchorage was not far from his humble camp to the edge of the city, a mile perhaps to the gates of Port Nyanzaru. Tiryki was a fisherman's wharf outside the walls of the main city. Much like "Old City" and "Malar's Throat", Tiryki was where the common people often found their residence and their lively hood. The smell of the fish markets here at first overwhelmed Dhromm, but in the last year he had become accustomed to the pungent aroma. There were few other shops in Tiryki, the businesses that did exist were geared toward support of the fishermen and sailors.
As Dhromm made his way up the worn cobblestone road, he came to a large board near the gate to Nyanzaru with various postings for work.
A few board postings caught Dhromm's eye:
"Town guard seeking to fill recent openings." -see Sgt. M. Jamison at the guardhouse barracks
"Cart driver needed to help with delivery. Must have strong nerves and back." - Hyde Sails and Canvas
"Be ye strong? Be ye tough? Fighters come and prove yer stuff" -Broken Bottle Tavern
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Dhromm stared at the sign as he considered the options. Although he enjoyed an occasional visit to the Broken Bottle, he felt no need to prove himself in a bar brawl or other drunken contest. The guard position would be familiar to him, remind him of home almost, but as he thought about it he knew that it was not a job that would help him find peace. So he started off down the worn road toward Hyde Sails and Canvas.
The road curved south towards the docs where many fishermen made harbor. The canvas shop was easy to find. Before Dhromm stood a barn like structure. Like many other buildings near the docks, it's grey exterior had clearly been weathered by storms and sea spray. A sign made from copper characters, now green from the elements, spelled out "Hyde Canvas Co." As Dhromm approached, the smell of fish and sea were overpowered by the more pungent aromas of dyes and bleach. Two large windows looked into the structure from the street, in between which stood a sliding double door. A smaller sign of painted wood hung in one of the windows. It simply spelled out the word "OPEN". Through the window Dhromm could make out several human men stitching large sections of cloth.
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Dhromm slides open the double door and walks inside the building. Looking around at the men he sees in the shop he says,
"Are you still looking for a cart driver?"
A few of the men cease working momentarily and look to the eldest of the group before returning to their labor. A human man in his fifties approaches Dhromm, a distant and pained look in his eyes.
"I am Adrian Hyde... these men work for me. And yes, I am in need of a cart driver."
He looks at Dhromm inquisitively.
"Though this may be much to ask of you, little one."
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Dhrom stared at the old man.
"Good day Mr. Hyde. I am in need of work and I assure you can think what you want about my size, but I can get the job done better than anyone."
(Persuasion)19
The corner of Mr. Hyde's mouth curls briefly up and his eyes sparkle briefly before returning to his sullen demeanor.
"I don't doubt the size of your heart lad. Nor that you need the work. Truthfully, I too need this delivery. But, this delivery must take a path outside the city. The road is rough and the dangers are many. The last delivery I sent did not return. Three of my own men... and my daughter."
Mr. Hyde's voice cracks and he shudders as he attempts to regain his composure.
"Forgive me young sir... I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a spot. I am indebted to Lord Strahd and cannot spare any more men to search, lest we lose everything. I am no fighter and too old to search myself for those who are lost. I have taken my plea to Sgt. Montgomery but he too has not the men to spare. So here I sit. I cannot stop production, yet neither can I deliver it seems (heh, hahaha)."
Mr. Hyde shrugs and shakes his head before he slumps down in a chair and begins to massage his brow.
Tome of Annihilation: Greggor - Level 1 Human (Variant) Fighter
The Good, The Bad, and The Greedy: Dungeon Master
Dhromm felt for the old man for he knew what it was like to lose family. Sadness and rage filled his heart as he thought of monsters attacking Hyde's daughter, which in turn made him think of his father.
"I'm sorry to hear about your daughter sir, but before I consider taking on such a perilous task, may I ask if you intend on me to take this journey alone? And where would I be delivering the cart to?"
Dhromm rested his palm on the bottom of the hilt of his ax and casually leaned himself against it, his other hand rubbing his chin in contemplation.
"You seem to have built yourself a fine business here sir, is it only recently that you have had troubles delivering your goods?"