When he is motioned to, Ozyre is distracted from appraising the trinkets that Ember put up for ante. He quickly turns around on his seat, giving a big smile and a thumbs up. "We're, uh, more capable than we seem. Well, I mean, I assume we are. I'm not really sure how capable we seem. Or how capable we are, I guess. Anyways, the point is that we can do things effectively and that there's a chance but probably a low one that we also look like we can do things effectively. You don't have to worry about sending us to do something we aren't prepared to do, and you also don't have to worry about sending us to do something you don't want us to do for whatever reason, because we're probably gonna figure out how to do it anyways and you telling us how would just make it a lot easier for us but not really much more likely to happen. If you catch my drift." The gnome reflects for a second. "...which I don't think I do, but maybe you figured it out."
Persuasion? Intimidation? Who knows! They've got the same modifier. Anyways: 17 (16 + 1)
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Ember stands up fully on her chair and strikes quite a pose with her fists on her hips, though she's still no bigger than Big Man sitting down, "What he said! We're gonna save the farm or something!" She sets her hands on the back of the chair and leans toward the other table, the chair tipping precariously up onto just the back feet. "It ssmmeelllss like you're working on the docks now. But maybe you want to be farmers again? We can help!"
The Kenku listens as the others interrogate the halflings, then leans in with his own input. When he opens his beak, it is the gruff voice of the bugbear, Brugg, that emerges.
"Bartolby... he and his crew found the perfect spot: vast, rich soil and almost no monsters go there... until three months ago. He’s gone dark. Ain’t heard a peep from him... Job’s to get down to his home and figure out what’s goin’on... There’s two of Bart’s crew that came back to town a few months back. Two halfling brothers."
He pauses, briefly, to point at each of the brothers to make the connection.
When he speaks again, it is an echo of the barbarians earlier request, "... Tell us if Bart had any troubles on the farm."
Then he sits back, hands politely resting on his table, while he stares at the two halflings with his black, beady eyes.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The two halflings look at each other and shrug in concert. The one called Lewin speaks up.
’’I have no idea what you just said, Mr. Gnome. Not sure what you want with Bart, but we haven’t spoken or seen him since we left 5 months ago. Or any of the other people from his crew for that matter.’’
The other one continues.
’’Yeah. We left ‘cause we didn’t feel safe anymore at farm. At first, we didn’t have a lot problem with the wildlife, but a short while before we left, something must have stirred them, ‘cause we were getting attacked nearly every night. Nothing too big, but none of us were soldiers. Whole thing just wasn’t worth our lives anymore. So my cousin and I left.’’
At Ember’s comment about returning to farming, the still unnamed halfling scoffs and retorts. ‘’Lady, we’re better off working at the docks than we ever were working on that farm. Thanks for the offer, but no thank you.’’
Around the same time, your waiter, Olivier, returns with his hands full. He holds 4 pints of ale in one hand and in the other, there is one plate with two mugs of hot brown liquid. Another large serving tray rests in the crux of his arm, holding four plates with delicious-looking slices of roasted pork with roasted potatoes. He puts down two of the pints in front of Thurodim and Ember and the other two in front of the two halfings. The two mugs of hot beverage go to Ozyre and [Sound of Cork Popping] and each of you is presented with a plate of food.
’’Enjoy your meals’’, Olivier says with a bow of his head before moving away again to serve other tables.
At the halflings' words, [Sound of Cork Popping] gets very fidgety, looking back and forth and down at the table as if looking for something. Then he snaps into focus and looks at the unnamed halfling. He speaks, and it is in the now-familiar voice of Keymaster Armitage.
"Please, tell me more about this animal you saw. Spare no detail, as I am studying the native creatures of this land and anything you saw or heard may be of greater importance than you realize. If it was similar to a common continental animal, please indicate as much, while also identifying any ways in which it was different from its continental counterpart. If it was a wholly unfamiliar type of animal, then please do your best to describe it in whatever way is easiest for you. Take your time to think carefully and please, again, spare no detail."
He stares intently at the halfling - until the food arrives. Then his concentration wavers back and forth between the wee man and the delicious aromas coming off of the pork.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ember loses all focus on the conversation the moment the food is placed in front of her. She immediately grabs her plate and disappears with it beneath the table before tucking in like the feral child she is, disregarding any form of cutlery in favor of eating with her hands and occasionally holding a roasted potato up to Aggie so he can take a bite.
As one of the halfling mentions a cousin, Thurodim looks suspiciosly around the tap room for even more similar looking halflings, however, his slowly chugging and barely moving train of thoughts comes to an abrupt full stop as Olivier arrives at their table with food and beverages. It is mainly the seemingly endless stream of words from Keymaster Armitage's voice that makes Thurodim lose focus, somewhere halfway through his question, but the ale and plate of food certainly has it's part to play in that. Leaving the rest of the inquiry to those better suited for such things, the massive blonde bearded warrior chuckles deeply as the halfling beside him disappears under the table and digs into her food, swiftly following suit, well, not disappearing under the table, but making it a matter of pride to finish his plate before the halfling does and then emptying his pint of ale in one single sweep before slamming it back into the table. "More!" He calls out to the waiter who has barely turned away to wait on the next table.
While he keeps walking away, Olivier responds with a quick ‘’Right away!’’.
The ale has a rich and refreshing taste, with suprisingly not much of a bitter aftertase, unlike the one you had at the Wailing Wench, which tasted a bit cheap. The roasted pork has a medium rare cook and comes with a garlic and honey-based marinade, while the potatoes are cooked with onions and rosemary.
As for the two halflings at the table, they’re not sure what to make of your group. Between the kenku’s voicebox, the massive warrior, the weird ‘’halfling’’ lady eating under the table and the gnome spouting an endless stream of confusing words, they look uncomfortable. But you did buy them a round of ale, so they seem to find you pretty ok.
Lewin pipes up at the question about the creatures that attacked them. ‘’Couldn’t see them all clearly since they attacked at night, but…I remember a little creature, about the size of a chicken. They attacked in large groups, like around 10, and they had this mouthful of teeth. One even gave me this.’’ He rolls up his sleeve and you see on his bicep a bite mark. Though mostly healed up, it looks particularly nasty with, to your count, three rows of teeth. ‘’Not an expert on creatures. Couldn’t tell you if they have the same thing back on the main land.’’
The other one speaks in turn after chugging part of his ale. ‘’Well, was there anything else you wanted to ask my cousin or I?’’
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
[Sound of Cork Popping] listens to Lewin as he eats his pork. Lacking the mandibles for chewing, the Kenku tears off strips of meat and tosses them back into his mouth, tilting his head back and then jerking his beak up and down to aid the swallowing process.
Once Lewis rolls up his sleeve, however, his attention is rapt. He springs from his chair and grasps the arm, adjusting is spectacles with a free hand as he inspects the scar. A new voice this time, dry, nasal, and a touch condescending, "... fascinating...".
[Allow for a nature check to identify the bite? 9 ]
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
When Ember disappears beneath the table, Ozyre takes the chance to deftly swap his mug with her pint. Proud of his responsibility, he gulps down about half of the ale in one go. When his face emerges from the cup, he seems completely unfazed by the alcohol. "Mmm! Tasty. For grown and responsible adults, specifically." The mostly-healed bite mark catches his eye. "Yikes. I think I've read enough to know that most things have fewer teeth thanthat." He runs his tongue over his teeth to do a quick roll call. "Anyways, if that's all the information you have, I think our scholar friend here will take a sketch or log it in his memory or something and we'll get out of your hair."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Ember peeks up over the edge of the table to survey the surface, only the top of her head and eyes visible like an alligator stalking its prey. She ogles [Sound of Cork Popping's] plate, still full of food, then glances at the kenku who seems fully distracted at the other table. Her gaze narrows, looking from the meat to Ozyre, then back to the meat then Ozyre again.
She sllooowwllyyy reaches a small, greasy hand littered with burn scars across the table towards the plate, keeping her amber eyes on the gnome all the while.
While the information provided by Lewin is pretty vague for the purpose of identifying a creature, the bite mark is definitely more useful. The teeth pattern is enough to make you think that this is not a common Beast. Yet it feels somewhat reminiscent of a pirahana. While unable to determine the exact nature of this monster, you realize that it must be a nocturnal creature since it seemed to only attack at night. And with the number of assailants described, it probably lives in pack.
[DM note: sorry if the description is vague. I like to use homebrew monster and also sometimes reflavor monsters using existing stat blocks. This is one of the latter cases. I’ll simply tell you that this isn’t a creature you’d find on the main land.]
As one of the halflings shows off his battle scar, Thurodim joins in while waiting for more food and drink. "That's nothing..."He says, proudly showing his massive muscled foreram for all to see, showing scars of what must have been large powerful jaws. "...this is what the direwolf Grymgar left me with, right before I tore him off and crushed his skull with Skullcrusher here." He finishes, grabbing hold of the mighty maul at his side. "I'll squash any of those toothy chickens that come within my reach." He says, nodding at his own formidability.
Seeing [Sound of Cork Popping] being distracted by the strange bite mark, and at the same time seeing two eyes and one arm of Ember making a grab for his plate, Ozyre realizes that he has to make a decision. He had just been so responsible by not letting the 12-year-old have alcohol. Could he really encourage this? Yes. Yes, he could. Looking at the hungry thief, one of his hands slowly reaches towards his mouth. He puts a single finger across his grin, and with that, the decision is made.
Once he's sure Ember's had enough food and that breaking [Sound of Cork Popping]'s focus wouldn't blow her cover, he swivels around to join the conversation. "I don't have a whole lotta scars. Make of that what you will. I have killed a chicken though. In fact, with this exact weapon!" With some difficulty, the gnome pulls the massive hammer off of his back, its head covered in strange Giant words. "I haven't named it, though. The hammer, I mean. I did name the chicken. Poor Eggmar." He puts the hammer back and starts to inch towards the door. "If that's everything we need, then we should probably pay the bill and get going. Chickens have a way of multiplying while you aren't looking. And it looks like everybody's plates are finished, anyways."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Lewin, somewhat flustered from being out-scarred by Thurodim, rolls down in sleeve to hide it again. He picks up his ale and downs it before standing up in concert with the other halfling. "Well. It certainly has been…an experience meeting you all. Hein and I have to go back to the docks to work. You be careful out there. And if you see Bart, tell him we said hi."
The other halfling, apparently named Hein, turns to Ember and gives her another charming smile. "And if you ever come back, don’t be a stranger." And he walks, away shooting her with imaginary finger-guns. Lewin follows soon after, rolling his eyes at his companion.
You are now alone. But only for a short while, as Olivier comes back with a fresh pint of ale for the massive barbarian.
As the halflings leave, Thurodim can't quite understand why Bart would be interested to hear they had said the word hi when they had met. As one of the halflings points his fingers at Ember, the massive blonde bearded man quickly stands up to protect his adventuring companion from the halfling's sinister finger magic, his hands again going for Skullcrusher before realizing he had already intrerupted the hafling's baleful sorcery. Nodding contentedly to himself he grabs the fresh pint of ale and downs it in one sweep, again slamming it into the table, giving the waiter a his pouch to take what coins he owed. "We will be back for more of your food and ale when we have finished our quest."He states proudly for all to hear, then grabbing his gear and stomping off for the door, ready to leave for Bart's farmstead.
Having devoured whatever remained of [Sound of Cork Popping's] meal, downed the mug of hot beverage (none the wiser that it is not, in fact, ale), and quietly appraised her own scars in comparison, Ember's brows knit together in confusion at the halfling's gesture and Big Man's reaction. Without thought, she fishes a gold out from her coin pouch to leave for the food.
"How come he wants to shoot me?" Ember asks, wiping her mouth on her scarf as she blinks after the halflings. "Are we enemies now?" Her eyes narrow.
The wizard waits for the others, rising up and down on the balls of her bare feet with excitement over the prospect of roasting some shark-chickens, before following after Big Man with them.
As the halflings leave, [Sound of Cork Popping] gives them a polite bow and returns to his seat. As he prepares to dig back into his meal, he sees his pork is no more. His heady black eyes peer down at the plate, through and then over the spectacles, his head cocking to the left and the right as though a different perspective may summon the food back to his dish.
He sits back contemplatively, considering that he may have finished and simply forgotten about it in his excitement. Just then, his stomach growls, putting the lie to that idea.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"I'll tear those fingers off if he tries shooting at you again Ember."Thuridim declares quite sincerely as he turns to look down at the hungry halfling with the peculiar table manners. "That goes for the rest of you too, I will not tolerate any magic finger shooting."He states clearly for all to hear, hoisting his might maul over his muscled shoulder as to emphasize the consequences of not adhering to his demand. "Now let's get going to Bart's farm and hunt some toothy chicken."
Ozyre is shocked. Finger guns are a time-honored tradition among his clan! "Nobody wants to shoot anybody, nobody's anybody's enemies, and everybody's fingers are staying attached to the spots where their fingers are supposed to be. The only magic contained within finger guns is the (usually harmless) magic of friendship and fun hand gestures, and the only thing they mean is... well, I guess they don't actually mean anything." Deciding that that would finish the discussion, he roots around his pouch and finds a silver piece, which he hands up to Olivier. "This is for the service. And for some bread sticks to-go, 'cause it sounds like our friend here is still a bit hungry after the delicious pork."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
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When he is motioned to, Ozyre is distracted from appraising the trinkets that Ember put up for ante. He quickly turns around on his seat, giving a big smile and a thumbs up. "We're, uh, more capable than we seem. Well, I mean, I assume we are. I'm not really sure how capable we seem. Or how capable we are, I guess. Anyways, the point is that we can do things effectively and that there's a chance but probably a low one that we also look like we can do things effectively. You don't have to worry about sending us to do something we aren't prepared to do, and you also don't have to worry about sending us to do something you don't want us to do for whatever reason, because we're probably gonna figure out how to do it anyways and you telling us how would just make it a lot easier for us but not really much more likely to happen. If you catch my drift." The gnome reflects for a second. "...which I don't think I do, but maybe you figured it out."
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Ember stands up fully on her chair and strikes quite a pose with her fists on her hips, though she's still no bigger than Big Man sitting down, "What he said! We're gonna save the farm or something!" She sets her hands on the back of the chair and leans toward the other table, the chair tipping precariously up onto just the back feet. "It ssmmeelllss like you're working on the docks now. But maybe you want to be farmers again? We can help!"
The Kenku listens as the others interrogate the halflings, then leans in with his own input. When he opens his beak, it is the gruff voice of the bugbear, Brugg, that emerges.
"Bartolby... he and his crew found the perfect spot: vast, rich soil and almost no monsters go there... until three months ago. He’s gone dark. Ain’t heard a peep from him... Job’s to get down to his home and figure out what’s goin’on... There’s two of Bart’s crew that came back to town a few months back. Two halfling brothers."
He pauses, briefly, to point at each of the brothers to make the connection.
When he speaks again, it is an echo of the barbarians earlier request, "... Tell us if Bart had any troubles on the farm."
Then he sits back, hands politely resting on his table, while he stares at the two halflings with his black, beady eyes.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The two halflings look at each other and shrug in concert. The one called Lewin speaks up.
’’I have no idea what you just said, Mr. Gnome. Not sure what you want with Bart, but we haven’t spoken or seen him since we left 5 months ago. Or any of the other people from his crew for that matter.’’
The other one continues.
’’Yeah. We left ‘cause we didn’t feel safe anymore at farm. At first, we didn’t have a lot problem with the wildlife, but a short while before we left, something must have stirred them, ‘cause we were getting attacked nearly every night. Nothing too big, but none of us were soldiers. Whole thing just wasn’t worth our lives anymore. So my cousin and I left.’’
At Ember’s comment about returning to farming, the still unnamed halfling scoffs and retorts. ‘’Lady, we’re better off working at the docks than we ever were working on that farm. Thanks for the offer, but no thank you.’’
Around the same time, your waiter, Olivier, returns with his hands full. He holds 4 pints of ale in one hand and in the other, there is one plate with two mugs of hot brown liquid. Another large serving tray rests in the crux of his arm, holding four plates with delicious-looking slices of roasted pork with roasted potatoes. He puts down two of the pints in front of Thurodim and Ember and the other two in front of the two halfings. The two mugs of hot beverage go to Ozyre and [Sound of Cork Popping] and each of you is presented with a plate of food.
’’Enjoy your meals’’, Olivier says with a bow of his head before moving away again to serve other tables.
At the halflings' words, [Sound of Cork Popping] gets very fidgety, looking back and forth and down at the table as if looking for something. Then he snaps into focus and looks at the unnamed halfling. He speaks, and it is in the now-familiar voice of Keymaster Armitage.
"Please, tell me more about this animal you saw. Spare no detail, as I am studying the native creatures of this land and anything you saw or heard may be of greater importance than you realize. If it was similar to a common continental animal, please indicate as much, while also identifying any ways in which it was different from its continental counterpart. If it was a wholly unfamiliar type of animal, then please do your best to describe it in whatever way is easiest for you. Take your time to think carefully and please, again, spare no detail."
He stares intently at the halfling - until the food arrives. Then his concentration wavers back and forth between the wee man and the delicious aromas coming off of the pork.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ember loses all focus on the conversation the moment the food is placed in front of her. She immediately grabs her plate and disappears with it beneath the table before tucking in like the feral child she is, disregarding any form of cutlery in favor of eating with her hands and occasionally holding a roasted potato up to Aggie so he can take a bite.
As one of the halfling mentions a cousin, Thurodim looks suspiciosly around the tap room for even more similar looking halflings, however, his slowly chugging and barely moving train of thoughts comes to an abrupt full stop as Olivier arrives at their table with food and beverages. It is mainly the seemingly endless stream of words from Keymaster Armitage's voice that makes Thurodim lose focus, somewhere halfway through his question, but the ale and plate of food certainly has it's part to play in that. Leaving the rest of the inquiry to those better suited for such things, the massive blonde bearded warrior chuckles deeply as the halfling beside him disappears under the table and digs into her food, swiftly following suit, well, not disappearing under the table, but making it a matter of pride to finish his plate before the halfling does and then emptying his pint of ale in one single sweep before slamming it back into the table. "More!" He calls out to the waiter who has barely turned away to wait on the next table.
While he keeps walking away, Olivier responds with a quick ‘’Right away!’’.
The ale has a rich and refreshing taste, with suprisingly not much of a bitter aftertase, unlike the one you had at the Wailing Wench, which tasted a bit cheap. The roasted pork has a medium rare cook and comes with a garlic and honey-based marinade, while the potatoes are cooked with onions and rosemary.
As for the two halflings at the table, they’re not sure what to make of your group. Between the kenku’s voicebox, the massive warrior, the weird ‘’halfling’’ lady eating under the table and the gnome spouting an endless stream of confusing words, they look uncomfortable. But you did buy them a round of ale, so they seem to find you pretty ok.
Lewin pipes up at the question about the creatures that attacked them. ‘’Couldn’t see them all clearly since they attacked at night, but…I remember a little creature, about the size of a chicken. They attacked in large groups, like around 10, and they had this mouthful of teeth. One even gave me this.’’ He rolls up his sleeve and you see on his bicep a bite mark. Though mostly healed up, it looks particularly nasty with, to your count, three rows of teeth. ‘’Not an expert on creatures. Couldn’t tell you if they have the same thing back on the main land.’’
The other one speaks in turn after chugging part of his ale. ‘’Well, was there anything else you wanted to ask my cousin or I?’’
[Sound of Cork Popping] listens to Lewin as he eats his pork. Lacking the mandibles for chewing, the Kenku tears off strips of meat and tosses them back into his mouth, tilting his head back and then jerking his beak up and down to aid the swallowing process.
Once Lewis rolls up his sleeve, however, his attention is rapt. He springs from his chair and grasps the arm, adjusting is spectacles with a free hand as he inspects the scar. A new voice this time, dry, nasal, and a touch condescending, "... fascinating...".
[Allow for a nature check to identify the bite? 9 ]
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
When Ember disappears beneath the table, Ozyre takes the chance to deftly swap his mug with her pint. Proud of his responsibility, he gulps down about half of the ale in one go. When his face emerges from the cup, he seems completely unfazed by the alcohol. "Mmm! Tasty. For grown and responsible adults, specifically." The mostly-healed bite mark catches his eye. "Yikes. I think I've read enough to know that most things have fewer teeth than that." He runs his tongue over his teeth to do a quick roll call. "Anyways, if that's all the information you have, I think our scholar friend here will take a sketch or log it in his memory or something and we'll get out of your hair."
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Ember peeks up over the edge of the table to survey the surface, only the top of her head and eyes visible like an alligator stalking its prey. She ogles [Sound of Cork Popping's] plate, still full of food, then glances at the kenku who seems fully distracted at the other table. Her gaze narrows, looking from the meat to Ozyre, then back to the meat then Ozyre again.
She sllooowwllyyy reaches a small, greasy hand littered with burn scars across the table towards the plate, keeping her amber eyes on the gnome all the while.
[Sound of Cork Popping]
While the information provided by Lewin is pretty vague for the purpose of identifying a creature, the bite mark is definitely more useful. The teeth pattern is enough to make you think that this is not a common Beast. Yet it feels somewhat reminiscent of a pirahana. While unable to determine the exact nature of this monster, you realize that it must be a nocturnal creature since it seemed to only attack at night. And with the number of assailants described, it probably lives in pack.
[DM note: sorry if the description is vague. I like to use homebrew monster and also sometimes reflavor monsters using existing stat blocks. This is one of the latter cases. I’ll simply tell you that this isn’t a creature you’d find on the main land.]
As one of the halflings shows off his battle scar, Thurodim joins in while waiting for more food and drink. "That's nothing..." He says, proudly showing his massive muscled foreram for all to see, showing scars of what must have been large powerful jaws. "...this is what the direwolf Grymgar left me with, right before I tore him off and crushed his skull with Skullcrusher here." He finishes, grabbing hold of the mighty maul at his side. "I'll squash any of those toothy chickens that come within my reach." He says, nodding at his own formidability.
Seeing [Sound of Cork Popping] being distracted by the strange bite mark, and at the same time seeing two eyes and one arm of Ember making a grab for his plate, Ozyre realizes that he has to make a decision. He had just been so responsible by not letting the 12-year-old have alcohol. Could he really encourage this? Yes. Yes, he could. Looking at the hungry thief, one of his hands slowly reaches towards his mouth. He puts a single finger across his grin, and with that, the decision is made.
Once he's sure Ember's had enough food and that breaking [Sound of Cork Popping]'s focus wouldn't blow her cover, he swivels around to join the conversation. "I don't have a whole lotta scars. Make of that what you will. I have killed a chicken though. In fact, with this exact weapon!" With some difficulty, the gnome pulls the massive hammer off of his back, its head covered in strange Giant words. "I haven't named it, though. The hammer, I mean. I did name the chicken. Poor Eggmar." He puts the hammer back and starts to inch towards the door. "If that's everything we need, then we should probably pay the bill and get going. Chickens have a way of multiplying while you aren't looking. And it looks like everybody's plates are finished, anyways."
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Lewin, somewhat flustered from being out-scarred by Thurodim, rolls down in sleeve to hide it again. He picks up his ale and downs it before standing up in concert with the other halfling.
"Well. It certainly has been…an experience meeting you all. Hein and I have to go back to the docks to work. You be careful out there. And if you see Bart, tell him we said hi."
The other halfling, apparently named Hein, turns to Ember and gives her another charming smile. "And if you ever come back, don’t be a stranger." And he walks, away shooting her with imaginary finger-guns. Lewin follows soon after, rolling his eyes at his companion.
You are now alone. But only for a short while, as Olivier comes back with a fresh pint of ale for the massive barbarian.
"Is there anything else I can get you?"
As the halflings leave, Thurodim can't quite understand why Bart would be interested to hear they had said the word hi when they had met. As one of the halflings points his fingers at Ember, the massive blonde bearded man quickly stands up to protect his adventuring companion from the halfling's sinister finger magic, his hands again going for Skullcrusher before realizing he had already intrerupted the hafling's baleful sorcery. Nodding contentedly to himself he grabs the fresh pint of ale and downs it in one sweep, again slamming it into the table, giving the waiter a his pouch to take what coins he owed. "We will be back for more of your food and ale when we have finished our quest." He states proudly for all to hear, then grabbing his gear and stomping off for the door, ready to leave for Bart's farmstead.
Having devoured whatever remained of [Sound of Cork Popping's] meal, downed the mug of hot beverage (none the wiser that it is not, in fact, ale), and quietly appraised her own scars in comparison, Ember's brows knit together in confusion at the halfling's gesture and Big Man's reaction. Without thought, she fishes a gold out from her coin pouch to leave for the food.
"How come he wants to shoot me?" Ember asks, wiping her mouth on her scarf as she blinks after the halflings. "Are we enemies now?" Her eyes narrow.
The wizard waits for the others, rising up and down on the balls of her bare feet with excitement over the prospect of roasting some shark-chickens, before following after Big Man with them.
As the halflings leave, [Sound of Cork Popping] gives them a polite bow and returns to his seat. As he prepares to dig back into his meal, he sees his pork is no more. His heady black eyes peer down at the plate, through and then over the spectacles, his head cocking to the left and the right as though a different perspective may summon the food back to his dish.
He sits back contemplatively, considering that he may have finished and simply forgotten about it in his excitement. Just then, his stomach growls, putting the lie to that idea.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"I'll tear those fingers off if he tries shooting at you again Ember." Thuridim declares quite sincerely as he turns to look down at the hungry halfling with the peculiar table manners. "That goes for the rest of you too, I will not tolerate any magic finger shooting." He states clearly for all to hear, hoisting his might maul over his muscled shoulder as to emphasize the consequences of not adhering to his demand. "Now let's get going to Bart's farm and hunt some toothy chicken."
Ozyre is shocked. Finger guns are a time-honored tradition among his clan! "Nobody wants to shoot anybody, nobody's anybody's enemies, and everybody's fingers are staying attached to the spots where their fingers are supposed to be. The only magic contained within finger guns is the (usually harmless) magic of friendship and fun hand gestures, and the only thing they mean is... well, I guess they don't actually mean anything." Deciding that that would finish the discussion, he roots around his pouch and finds a silver piece, which he hands up to Olivier. "This is for the service. And for some bread sticks to-go, 'cause it sounds like our friend here is still a bit hungry after the delicious pork."
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)