Thanks to Raff's (?) fearless (??) leadership (???), the party makes its way to the south-western quarter of the city, where the scent of dinosaur poop hangs heavy in the air. These are the dinosaur pens, where those interested in owning a dinosaur of their very own can obtain one - or where someone interested in betting on the dinosaur races can find one of the numerous bookies willing to take bets. In spite of the disruption of the day's earlier zombie incursion, the area is back to being packed with denizens of the city, and a babel of voices fills the air.
Overall, the clientele of the area seem to be less fancy than in other areas, and you all get the feeling the reason for this is the distinct lack of any heavily fortified shelter. There are also, of course, a distinct dearth of city guards which seems to be another contributing factor. The only really fortified areas you can see are the dinosaur pens themselves. But who cares about that, really? The more important thing is the list of odds posted for the next day's races:
Fenrir allows Raff's curious sense of adventure lead them to the right place. He doesn't seem to mind the change in citizenry, but does speak up upon sighting the board listing odds. He didn't need to read it to recognize what it was.
"Anyone bettin' is to use their own gold," he growls. "Ain't no one usin' what we got this mornin' here, understood?"
"I wonder if any of them are capable of throwing zombies high and far enough to make it over a fortified city way...." Mortimer muses. He then sets about talking to random people who appear to be more permanent features of the district about Eshek, describing the dwarf surprisingly accurately for someone who can't remember the guy's real name.
Mortimer, along with Talindra, split off from the rest of the group and begin asking around about Eshek. The majority of the people you talk to know him, and agree that he is frequently around to bet on the dinosaur races, even though he's not particularly good at picking winners. The other thing everyone can agree is that he was acting strangely the last time they saw him, which you both figure is probably a result of him getting whatever supernatural whammy it was that compelled him to find you.
Fenrir reminds Enri that they already have a triceratops, while the magical two do their business. "Do we really need more than one dinosaur? What're you gonna feed it?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Talindra shoots a quick strange look in the direction her patron would be in were she actually there. She could manipulate the list for a short time she guessed but would that actually alter the payment. Not that she even knew what the odds meant either. She paused at the intersection with the prickling and looked around, talking as she checked.
"Hey Morti, you know how those odds work?" She gestured to the list with a jerk of her thumb. "Like what would pay good you know? I'm .. curious."
"Hm? Oh, they're like fractions." He looks at the board for a moment. "They don't think the Big Chonker is going to win, so they set the odds at 7-to-1. If you bet 1 copper and he wins, then you get your original money back plus 7 more. And Mountain Thunker is exactly the opposite at 1-to-7; you'd have to pay 7 copper to get 1 extra back if he wins."
Talindra frowns as she concentrates on the weird feeling the intersection gave her. It feels like the echo of a spell might have been there, but she can't quite figure out how long ago it happened or what school of magic it would have been. For all she knows, it could have been someone casting prestidigitation to clean dinosaur shit off their shoes.
Talindra stares at the odds list contemplatively. She could change them for about an hour she thought and hopefully it would be enough. She made an idle gesture towards the list and muttered 'interesting' as if in answer to the explanation. 3:1 should be fine enough and with any luck it wouldn't be too suspicious. "I'm not finding much of anything interesting going on are you Mortimer?"
((So prestidigitation allows me to make 3 simultaneous marks so she'll make a u shaped mark the color of the list to hide the numbers on either side of the colon, then two marks for the 3 and the 1.))
((Awesome. Give me a slight of hand check (dexterity bonus + proficiency bonus, if you happen to be proficient in it) to see if anyone notices your idle gesturing ))
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Thanks to Raff's (?) fearless (??) leadership (???), the party makes its way to the south-western quarter of the city, where the scent of dinosaur poop hangs heavy in the air. These are the dinosaur pens, where those interested in owning a dinosaur of their very own can obtain one - or where someone interested in betting on the dinosaur races can find one of the numerous bookies willing to take bets. In spite of the disruption of the day's earlier zombie incursion, the area is back to being packed with denizens of the city, and a babel of voices fills the air.
Overall, the clientele of the area seem to be less fancy than in other areas, and you all get the feeling the reason for this is the distinct lack of any heavily fortified shelter. There are also, of course, a distinct dearth of city guards which seems to be another contributing factor. The only really fortified areas you can see are the dinosaur pens themselves. But who cares about that, really? The more important thing is the list of odds posted for the next day's races:
What do you do?
Fenrir allows Raff's curious sense of adventure lead them to the right place. He doesn't seem to mind the change in citizenry, but does speak up upon sighting the board listing odds. He didn't need to read it to recognize what it was.
"Anyone bettin' is to use their own gold," he growls. "Ain't no one usin' what we got this mornin' here, understood?"
"Right," said Enri. "We're looking to purchase, not bet. One of the native beasts ought to do nicely."
"I wonder if any of them are capable of throwing zombies high and far enough to make it over a fortified city way...." Mortimer muses. He then sets about talking to random people who appear to be more permanent features of the district about Eshek, describing the dwarf surprisingly accurately for someone who can't remember the guy's real name.
((Make me an Investigation Check, Mort))
((Investigation: 13))
((Can I do an assist on that roll? Sorry it's a late request))
((Nah, it's fine - Mort, make the roll again with ADVANTAGE))
((Advantageously rolled Investigation! 22. Hopefully I syntaxed that correctly.))
((Woo!!))
Mortimer, along with Talindra, split off from the rest of the group and begin asking around about Eshek. The majority of the people you talk to know him, and agree that he is frequently around to bet on the dinosaur races, even though he's not particularly good at picking winners. The other thing everyone can agree is that he was acting strangely the last time they saw him, which you both figure is probably a result of him getting whatever supernatural whammy it was that compelled him to find you.
Fenrir reminds Enri that they already have a triceratops, while the magical two do their business. "Do we really need more than one dinosaur? What're you gonna feed it?"
"Pizza!" Raff offers. "Dinosaurs love it."
He shrugs. "Well, I love it, anyway."
Talindra, you hear the voice of your patron whisper in your ear.
"The odds on Nasty Boi look terrible, don't you think? You should change them to something with a better payout."
This voice is almost immediately interrupted by another. "Darling, you know that using your servant to cheat is terribly gauche"
"You're just jealous that you don't have one."
As you wander near one particular intersection, you feel a prickling sensation across your skin. Make an arcana check.
Talindra shoots a quick strange look in the direction her patron would be in were she actually there. She could manipulate the list for a short time she guessed but would that actually alter the payment. Not that she even knew what the odds meant either. She paused at the intersection with the prickling and looked around, talking as she checked.
"Hey Morti, you know how those odds work?" She gestured to the list with a jerk of her thumb. "Like what would pay good you know? I'm .. curious."
((Arcana:10))
"Hm? Oh, they're like fractions." He looks at the board for a moment. "They don't think the Big Chonker is going to win, so they set the odds at 7-to-1. If you bet 1 copper and he wins, then you get your original money back plus 7 more. And Mountain Thunker is exactly the opposite at 1-to-7; you'd have to pay 7 copper to get 1 extra back if he wins."
Enri shrugs. "Honestly? Probably whoever loses the most money gambling."
Talindra frowns as she concentrates on the weird feeling the intersection gave her. It feels like the echo of a spell might have been there, but she can't quite figure out how long ago it happened or what school of magic it would have been. For all she knows, it could have been someone casting prestidigitation to clean dinosaur shit off their shoes.
Talindra stares at the odds list contemplatively. She could change them for about an hour she thought and hopefully it would be enough. She made an idle gesture towards the list and muttered 'interesting' as if in answer to the explanation. 3:1 should be fine enough and with any luck it wouldn't be too suspicious. "I'm not finding much of anything interesting going on are you Mortimer?"
((So prestidigitation allows me to make 3 simultaneous marks so she'll make a u shaped mark the color of the list to hide the numbers on either side of the colon, then two marks for the 3 and the 1.))
((Awesome. Give me a slight of hand check (dexterity bonus + proficiency bonus, if you happen to be proficient in it) to see if anyone notices your idle gesturing ))