Casrian listens to the half-elf's ditty with a growing smile. He ends up tapping along to the tune and waits for it to conclude before teasing, "You know your way around a flute, Master Norr, though perhaps not 'The Lillies'. As I recall - and please forgive me, I am no singer - it goes like this."
He hums a little as the song goes, learning the melody and the twists and turns, but only quiet. He's above stealing focus from even a common singer, and Casrian is no singer of common voice. As the chorus comes again, Norr casts Prestidigitation and faint string instruments complement and back Casrian until he is finished. With a twist of his wrist, and the use of his spell, Norr conjures a tiny medal of crystal and ribbon. It has a big 1st on it, in gold.
"You are un vrai talent, milord," says Norr, smiling. He joins the others in applauding. Even Rowdy brays, presumably, happily.
He hums a little as the song goes, learning the melody and the twists and turns, but only quiet. He's above stealing focus from even a common singer, and Casrian is no singer of common voice. As the chorus comes again, Norr casts Prestidigitation and faint string instruments complement and back Casrian until he is finished. With a twist of his wrist, and the use of his spell, Norr conjures a tiny medal of crystal and ribbon. It has a big 1st on it, in gold.
"You are un vrai talent, milord," says Norr, smiling. He joins the others in applauding. Even Rowdy brays, presumably, happily.
Leo starts patting his lap to the Rythm of their singing so that he could contribute.
He hums a little as the song goes, learning the melody and the twists and turns, but only quiet. He's above stealing focus from even a common singer, and Casrian is no singer of common voice. As the chorus comes again, Norr casts Prestidigitation and faint string instruments complement and back Casrian until he is finished. With a twist of his wrist, and the use of his spell, Norr conjures a tiny medal of crystal and ribbon. It has a big 1st on it, in gold.
"You are un vrai talent, milord," says Norr, smiling. He joins the others in applauding. Even Rowdy brays, presumably, happily.
Leo starts patting his lap to the Rythm of their singing so that he could contribute.
Performance: 11
Norr nods along to the sound of Leo's claws against something solid on his lap. The tapping is tinny, but apt. A staccato sound, like a tight drum skin, it's the missing accompaniment to the song that completes it.
Brix takes his place in the drivers seat as the others load provisions and find their places, He affixes his spear to the seat edge and takes up the reins. As the music begins to play he says with a smile, "As fine a travelin' tune as I've ever heard. Now git onup thar mule." He barks at the beast(s) pulling the cart. The cart lurches and begins to roll on down the road.
As the buildings of Slileigh Le Ulta roll by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
As the Slileigh Le Ulta rolls by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, who knows when we get attacked by those masked freak again. but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
As the Slileigh Le Ulta rolls by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
Norr reaches into his pack and gives Leo his 20 arrows. It's not like he has any use for them now that he has mutilated his bow. "Have mine," he says. "Let's save it for the camp fire. The wagon is for relaxing. Walking and eating, that's the time for talking."
As the Slileigh Le Ulta rolls by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
Norr reaches into his pack and gives Leo his 20 arrows. It's not like he has any use for them now that he has mutilated his bow. "Have mine," he says. "Let's save it for the camp fire. The wagon is for relaxing, walking and eating, that's the time for talking."
"Aye... well... thank ye!" he says putting the arrows in his quill. "By the way, what do ye mean by 'quary'?"
As the Slileigh Le Ulta rolls by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
Norr reaches into his pack and gives Leo his 20 arrows. It's not like he has any use for them now that he has mutilated his bow. "Have mine," he says. "Let's save it for the camp fire. The wagon is for relaxing, walking and eating, that's the time for talking."
"Aye... well... thank ye!" he says putting the arrows in his quill. "By the way, what do ye mean by 'quary'?"
Norr looks up at the sky for a moment, eyebrows scrunched like he's consulting a mental search engine to make sure the word means what he thought it means. He says,
"Quarry, noun: an animal pursued by a hunter, hound, predatorymammal, or bird of prey. In a sentence, 'grouse are not an easy quarry for a hawk'."
"Ask me nothing of spoor, I leave that to your talented-looking nose."
As the Slileigh Le Ulta rolls by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
Norr reaches into his pack and gives Leo his 20 arrows. It's not like he has any use for them now that he has mutilated his bow. "Have mine," he says. "Let's save it for the camp fire. The wagon is for relaxing, walking and eating, that's the time for talking."
"Aye... well... thank ye!" he says putting the arrows in his quill. "By the way, what do ye mean by 'quary'?"
Norr looks up at the sky for a moment, eyebrows scrunched like he's consulting a mental search engine to make sure the word means what he thought it means. He says,
"Quarry, noun: an animal pursued by a hunter, hound, predatorymammal, or bird of prey. In a sentence, 'grouse are not an easy quarry for a hawk'."
"Ask me nothing of spoor, I leave that to your talented-looking nose."
"Aye, that makes sense, I was never a professional hunter. Sure, I hunted for a large chunk in my life, but not as a job. I never learned any of the terms."
As the Slileigh Le Ulta rolls by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
Norr reaches into his pack and gives Leo his 20 arrows. It's not like he has any use for them now that he has mutilated his bow. "Have mine," he says. "Let's save it for the camp fire. The wagon is for relaxing, walking and eating, that's the time for talking."
"Aye... well... thank ye!" he says putting the arrows in his quill. "By the way, what do ye mean by 'quary'?"
Norr looks up at the sky for a moment, eyebrows scrunched like he's consulting a mental search engine to make sure the word means what he thought it means. He says,
"Quarry, noun: an animal pursued by a hunter, hound, predatorymammal, or bird of prey. In a sentence, 'grouse are not an easy quarry for a hawk'."
"Ask me nothing of spoor, I leave that to your talented-looking nose."
"Aye, that makes sense, I was never a professional hunter. Sure, I hunted for a large chunk in my life, but not as a job. I never learned any of the terms."
"From where do you hail Master Pard? Were you always in your grand shack in the countryside of Slileigh le Ulta, or is this only a summer estate for yourself?"
Oh eh a query can also reference a question or surface mining.
you are a wellspring of information and a great musician.
"Forgive me if this is a faux pas, I have met few dwarves. Surface mining, is this a discipline of yours, Sir Silverstone? Is it a prospect worthy of prospecting for which we can celebrate our meeting on your birthday?"
"Though, I feel I must point out, Sir Silverstone, that an 'eh-a'query' is actually the officer in charge of a Lord's stables and horses."
"Aye, I grew up with Red in the forest, just the two of us, fer most of my life. I only moved into that shack less than a year ago. The 'shack' was actually the shed of the farmer that lives just outside the town. He let me live there when he saw that we didn't have a house. He taught me Common, and the basics of humanoid society."
"Aye, I grew up with Red in the forest, just the two of us, fer most of my life. I only moved into that shack less than a year ago. The 'shack' was actually the shed of the farmer that lives just outside the town. He let me live there when he saw that we didn't have a house. He taught me Common, and the basics of humanoid society."
"Ah, I see," says Norr, looking quite abashed at his assumptions.
Not to be deterred, however, he launches into his next line of inquiry, with glee.
"And who is Red? A lifelong friend and a life's true love, perhaps? I imagine a delightful, auburn-colored Tabaxan, a friend and foe by turn, like all great romances, but always there when your back's up against the wall. What has happened to separate you and her, and send you on this quest? Do you mean to win her heart again? Or, perhaps, save her from a horrid and torrid poison that a rival suitor has used to subject her to abject enchantment?"
"Aye, I grew up with Red in the forest, just the two of us, fer most of my life. I only moved into that shack less than a year ago. The 'shack' was actually the shed of the farmer that lives just outside the town. He let me live there when he saw that we didn't have a house. He taught me Common, and the basics of humanoid society."
"Ah, I see," says Norr, looking quite abashed at his assumptions.
Not to be deterred, however, he launches into his next line of inquiry, with glee.
"And who is Red? A lifelong friend and a life's true love, perhaps? I imagine a delightful, auburn-colored Tabaxan, a friend and foe by turn, like all great romances, but always there when your back's up against the wall. What has happened to separate you and her, and send you on this quest? Do you mean to win her heart again? Or, perhaps, save her from a horrid and torrid poison that a rival suitor has used to subject her to abject enchantment?"
"Aye, I grew up with Red in the forest, just the two of us, fer most of my life. I only moved into that shack less than a year ago. The 'shack' was actually the shed of the farmer that lives just outside the town. He let me live there when he saw that we didn't have a house. He taught me Common, and the basics of humanoid society."
I imagine the farmer was a Scotsman.
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((this is amazing))
Casrian listens to the half-elf's ditty with a growing smile. He ends up tapping along to the tune and waits for it to conclude before teasing, "You know your way around a flute, Master Norr, though perhaps not 'The Lillies'. As I recall - and please forgive me, I am no singer - it goes like this."
Performance: 22 (holy shit. Nat 20)
Leo is just sitting there, watching, not knowing what this song even is
O, wolf of the mountain come down to the shore,
To the edges of Glenbairn, where my lillies roar.
They wave from the castle in glittering mail,
A garden of glory preparing for the war.
Norr listens to Casrian, rapt.
He hums a little as the song goes, learning the melody and the twists and turns, but only quiet. He's above stealing focus from even a common singer, and Casrian is no singer of common voice. As the chorus comes again, Norr casts Prestidigitation and faint string instruments complement and back Casrian until he is finished. With a twist of his wrist, and the use of his spell, Norr conjures a tiny medal of crystal and ribbon. It has a big 1st on it, in gold.
"You are un vrai talent, milord," says Norr, smiling. He joins the others in applauding. Even Rowdy brays, presumably, happily.
Leo starts patting his lap to the Rythm of their singing so that he could contribute.
Performance: 11
Norr nods along to the sound of Leo's claws against something solid on his lap. The tapping is tinny, but apt. A staccato sound, like a tight drum skin, it's the missing accompaniment to the song that completes it.
Brix takes his place in the drivers seat as the others load provisions and find their places, He affixes his spear to the seat edge and takes up the reins. As the music begins to play he says with a smile, "As fine a travelin' tune as I've ever heard. Now git onup thar mule." He barks at the beast(s) pulling the cart. The cart lurches and begins to roll on down the road.
**This Space for Rent**
As the buildings of Slileigh Le Ulta roll by, and they head toward the countryside, Norr taps Leo on the shoulder. "Don't forget our bet, Leo Pard-Not-McPard. If we spot quarry, we both take our shot, and the best bolt wins."
"...Aye, I don't want to waste my arrows if that makes sense, who knows when we get attacked by those masked freak again. but while we're here, we did agree to give each other more info about ourselves,"
Norr reaches into his pack and gives Leo his 20 arrows. It's not like he has any use for them now that he has mutilated his bow. "Have mine," he says. "Let's save it for the camp fire. The wagon is for relaxing. Walking and eating, that's the time for talking."
"Aye... well... thank ye!" he says putting the arrows in his quill. "By the way, what do ye mean by 'quary'?"
survival 5
along the way Dolmek watches for wild edibles especially mushrooms and shallots.
Norr looks up at the sky for a moment, eyebrows scrunched like he's consulting a mental search engine to make sure the word means what he thought it means. He says,
"Quarry, noun: an animal pursued by a hunter, hound, predatory mammal, or bird of prey. In a sentence, 'grouse are not an easy quarry for a hawk'."
"Ask me nothing of spoor, I leave that to your talented-looking nose."
Oh eh a query can also reference a question or surface mining.
you are a wellspring of information and a great musician.
"Aye, that makes sense, I was never a professional hunter. Sure, I hunted for a large chunk in my life, but not as a job. I never learned any of the terms."
"From where do you hail Master Pard? Were you always in your grand shack in the countryside of Slileigh le Ulta, or is this only a summer estate for yourself?"
"Forgive me if this is a faux pas, I have met few dwarves. Surface mining, is this a discipline of yours, Sir Silverstone? Is it a prospect worthy of prospecting for which we can celebrate our meeting on your birthday?"
"Though, I feel I must point out, Sir Silverstone, that an 'eh-a'query' is actually the officer in charge of a Lord's stables and horses."
"Aye, I grew up with Red in the forest, just the two of us, fer most of my life. I only moved into that shack less than a year ago. The 'shack' was actually the shed of the farmer that lives just outside the town. He let me live there when he saw that we didn't have a house. He taught me Common, and the basics of humanoid society."
"Ah, I see," says Norr, looking quite abashed at his assumptions.
Not to be deterred, however, he launches into his next line of inquiry, with glee.
"And who is Red? A lifelong friend and a life's true love, perhaps? I imagine a delightful, auburn-colored Tabaxan, a friend and foe by turn, like all great romances, but always there when your back's up against the wall. What has happened to separate you and her, and send you on this quest? Do you mean to win her heart again? Or, perhaps, save her from a horrid and torrid poison that a rival suitor has used to subject her to abject enchantment?"
"...Red is a guy... and my brother."
I imagine the farmer was a Scotsman.