"Aye," Dundr replies in dwarvish. "Gold that glistens shines brighter in the torchlight than under highsun," the dwarf says cryptically. "Zavakk is wise to the partiar's various footsteps. Be sure o' that, Arutha."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Cath watches the woman as she makes her drawing in the sand. He senses there is more to her story than what she has said. He tries to puzzle it out.
Insight check 1
"There is more to you than a woman from an unknown village at the edge of the Fields of the Dead I think. But it is your tale to tell if you so chose."
"Zavakk I dont know how well the soldiers and militia around here are familiar with firearms, but if ya let me i can teach em a thing or two about shootin" John then mutters "that is of course if this dispute with Talivar Mabbas is gonna be a problem?" "if you could get a shipment of firearms, how quick could they get to the town?"
"So Cenareon has a contact, and it's a priestess of Myrkul? He also has an in with the Zhentarim. He gave up his birthright. Hmm" Gramdal ponders this for a moment. The patriars were being murdered. Perhaps one had even gone mad? That certainly would explain the presence of The Flaming Fist at the gates and why they were being so thorough. Gramdal needs to get into the city, but it may be nightfall before he even gets close. Perhaps there would be more in the Outer City.
Though your gesture, Norvalor, is well-intended and the gold would help make the first few days inside the city a comfortable experience, Kaiylin pushes your hand away from her daughter. "Thank you, Norvalor, for your kindness." The gentle words come with a stern warning. "We hardly know you. Giving up your gold," she says, searching your eyes for truth, malice, and finding none, adds, "is a generosity better spent on others. Your company, healer, is all that we need."
Indeed, Cath, there is more to this woman than complaints with a small village. She knows her way around a kitchen… she's better with the brew… her hands can work art… and her children are the issue of a union with an elf. You ponder closer. There's something else on the edge of your mind. Something that doesn't quite make sense. Later, perhaps, when you have had a full night's rest, the pieces will shift and come together.
Looking at the bootmakers Arutha smiles once more. "I will ponder what we have discussed. Is there anything you need from me at this time? I think I may look for some way to pass the time we seem to have an abundance of."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
The gold dragonborn takes a moment to consider your unusual proposal, John. "Firearms." He lets the word hang in the air for a moment as he turns the weapon over. He examines it closely, raising the carbine to his burnished eyes, admiring the craftsmanship, any engravings, the handle, the hammer. "Present your idea to Omaha. I'll need a report from the field." He hands the weapon back to you, as you handed it to him. His voice echoes in your mind. I have no love for orcs, John Cooper, I admit. Your weapon is remarkable; prove its usefulness.
The Outer City is full of opportunity, Gramdal. The laws of Baldur's Gate are not enforced there. And as such, the common good is all that holds it together. As you walk around, you spot a few men and women strut with sure, strong strides. The small yellow sash worn identifies them as the neighborhood watch. The woman openly displays black leather gloves adorned with the symbol of the Flaming Fist, a closed red fist wreathed in orange flame, on the back of her hand. She acknowledges you, then goes about her business.
"Talivar (tal-eh-VAR) Mabbas (muh-BAHS), John Cooper, ranks among the few patriars who supports all of Baldur's Gate. His war casters churn out siege weapons and armor for the front lines. His generous donations have contributed to several buildings, including an orphanage, and a non-denominational temple in Little Calimshan on the eastern-most edge of the Outer City. Talivar can be a loyal friend, or a cunning adversary."
Keep talking John. Your demonstration and you conversation has attracted a few wandering eyes, including those of Cenareon. You have failed his litmus test. You are an enemy.
"Keep a sharp eye about ye," Blundr says to Arutha. "We'll be keepin' to the line. Return before we've reached the gate." He raises the license. "Yer name is on here."
Looking at Blundr, Arutha gets a curious look on his face. "Out of curiosity, What are the laws in regard to duels I Baulders Gate? I would really like to get some practice but don't want to step on anyone's toes in the process."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
The Outer City is full of opportunity, Gramdal. The laws of Baldur's Gate are not enforced there. And as such, the common good is all that holds it together. As you walk around, you spot a few men and women strut with sure, strong strides. The small yellow sash worn identifies them as the neighborhood watch. The woman openly displays black leather gloves adorned with the symbol of the Flaming Fist, a closed red fist wreathed in orange flame, on the back of her hand. She acknowledges you, then goes about her business.
Gramdal returns the nod and goes about his way as well. There is unrest within the city walls. Gramdal knows all too well that this means greater unrest to those just outside. He will attempt to find some sort of hint or clue to what is going on. There is a web of intrigue that is sprawling out before him and the others. He had to follow the threads. He had to unravel the true depths of this mystery.
Dundr explains. "Allow me, brother. Ye spectacles are far too delicate—"
"Not again!" Blundr grunts. "I am two minutes older than ye. Not two hundred!"
Dundr chuckles, thumbing his brother. "Delicate as the oculars on his nose. The Fist, friend, hold regular training exercises in the yards outside the city on the north side. One silver gets you a few matches. No silver? Ye get water duty."
"As far as the Outer City," Blundr snorts, "which be far closer than the other side of the city." He shakes his head with mild contempt. "Sending Arutha to the Baldur's Gate. What's wrong with ye!"
"He asked," Dundr says. "The silvers collected help the spouses, children, and kin sharin' the same roof with a Fist soldier while he's deployed. A worthy cause."
"True."
"And ye get to know the citizens."
"Also true," Blundr says. "The Outer City, Arutha, costs less and the coin ye spend there goes directly," he says this, glaring at his clasnman, "to the families who live in squalor."
Arutha smiles again at their banter and looks around. "Just point me in the right direction and I will head that way. Supporting those in need may not be my regular activity but I am more than happy to have some fun and help the needy at the same time. Thank you for the advice."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Hearing the voices of Zavakk in his head John begins to wonder who's attention he really has gained, was there more to his demonstration than he realized? Are there people secretly watching him? "where do i fit in this grand scheme of things" John wondered. "Zavakk please tell me where i can find This Omaha, i'll show him what i can do and see if we make some.......arrangements if you will"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Kaiylin I do mean well but if you say that all you need in my company than so be it." *Smiling Norvalor take the pouch of gold* "i will be at the purple wyrm for a drink with the Dwarf Cath later so i hope to see you there." *Norvalor walks off to the merchants looking for books and anything that can relate to powers that aren't learned and where they come from*
Perception: 16
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"Aye," Dundr replies in dwarvish. "Gold that glistens shines brighter in the torchlight than under highsun," the dwarf says cryptically. "Zavakk is wise to the partiar's various footsteps. Be sure o' that, Arutha."
Adding in dwarfish, Blundr says, "Be glad, brothers, the patriar's vile mouth can't make room for dwarvish."
Lies. Deceit. Corruption. All. And more, he wants to say.
Cath watches the woman as she makes her drawing in the sand. He senses there is more to her story than what she has said. He tries to puzzle it out.
Insight check 1
"There is more to you than a woman from an unknown village at the edge of the Fields of the Dead I think. But it is your tale to tell if you so chose."
"Zavakk I dont know how well the soldiers and militia around here are familiar with firearms, but if ya let me i can teach em a thing or two about shootin" John then mutters "that is of course if this dispute with Talivar Mabbas is gonna be a problem?" "if you could get a shipment of firearms, how quick could they get to the town?"
OOC: did Kaiylin take my gold?
"So Cenareon has a contact, and it's a priestess of Myrkul? He also has an in with the Zhentarim. He gave up his birthright. Hmm" Gramdal ponders this for a moment. The patriars were being murdered. Perhaps one had even gone mad? That certainly would explain the presence of The Flaming Fist at the gates and why they were being so thorough. Gramdal needs to get into the city, but it may be nightfall before he even gets close. Perhaps there would be more in the Outer City.
Though your gesture, Norvalor, is well-intended and the gold would help make the first few days inside the city a comfortable experience, Kaiylin pushes your hand away from her daughter. "Thank you, Norvalor, for your kindness." The gentle words come with a stern warning. "We hardly know you. Giving up your gold," she says, searching your eyes for truth, malice, and finding none, adds, "is a generosity better spent on others. Your company, healer, is all that we need."
OOC. Notice Kaiylin misread your offer.
Indeed, Cath, there is more to this woman than complaints with a small village. She knows her way around a kitchen… she's better with the brew… her hands can work art… and her children are the issue of a union with an elf. You ponder closer. There's something else on the edge of your mind. Something that doesn't quite make sense. Later, perhaps, when you have had a full night's rest, the pieces will shift and come together.
Looking at the bootmakers Arutha smiles once more. "I will ponder what we have discussed. Is there anything you need from me at this time? I think I may look for some way to pass the time we seem to have an abundance of."
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
The gold dragonborn takes a moment to consider your unusual proposal, John. "Firearms." He lets the word hang in the air for a moment as he turns the weapon over. He examines it closely, raising the carbine to his burnished eyes, admiring the craftsmanship, any engravings, the handle, the hammer. "Present your idea to Omaha. I'll need a report from the field." He hands the weapon back to you, as you handed it to him. His voice echoes in your mind. I have no love for orcs, John Cooper, I admit. Your weapon is remarkable; prove its usefulness.
The Outer City is full of opportunity, Gramdal. The laws of Baldur's Gate are not enforced there. And as such, the common good is all that holds it together. As you walk around, you spot a few men and women strut with sure, strong strides. The small yellow sash worn identifies them as the neighborhood watch. The woman openly displays black leather gloves adorned with the symbol of the Flaming Fist, a closed red fist wreathed in orange flame, on the back of her hand. She acknowledges you, then goes about her business.
"Talivar (tal-eh-VAR) Mabbas (muh-BAHS), John Cooper, ranks among the few patriars who supports all of Baldur's Gate. His war casters churn out siege weapons and armor for the front lines. His generous donations have contributed to several buildings, including an orphanage, and a non-denominational temple in Little Calimshan on the eastern-most edge of the Outer City. Talivar can be a loyal friend, or a cunning adversary."
Keep talking John. Your demonstration and you conversation has attracted a few wandering eyes, including those of Cenareon. You have failed his litmus test. You are an enemy.
"Keep a sharp eye about ye," Blundr says to Arutha. "We'll be keepin' to the line. Return before we've reached the gate." He raises the license. "Yer name is on here."
Looking at Blundr, Arutha gets a curious look on his face. "Out of curiosity, What are the laws in regard to duels I Baulders Gate? I would really like to get some practice but don't want to step on anyone's toes in the process."
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Gramdal returns the nod and goes about his way as well. There is unrest within the city walls. Gramdal knows all too well that this means greater unrest to those just outside. He will attempt to find some sort of hint or clue to what is going on. There is a web of intrigue that is sprawling out before him and the others. He had to follow the threads. He had to unravel the true depths of this mystery.
Dundr explains. "Allow me, brother. Ye spectacles are far too delicate—"
"Not again!" Blundr grunts. "I am two minutes older than ye. Not two hundred!"
Dundr chuckles, thumbing his brother. "Delicate as the oculars on his nose. The Fist, friend, hold regular training exercises in the yards outside the city on the north side. One silver gets you a few matches. No silver? Ye get water duty."
"As far as the Outer City," Blundr snorts, "which be far closer than the other side of the city." He shakes his head with mild contempt. "Sending Arutha to the Baldur's Gate. What's wrong with ye!"
"He asked," Dundr says. "The silvers collected help the spouses, children, and kin sharin' the same roof with a Fist soldier while he's deployed. A worthy cause."
"True."
"And ye get to know the citizens."
"Also true," Blundr says. "The Outer City, Arutha, costs less and the coin ye spend there goes directly," he says this, glaring at his clasnman, "to the families who live in squalor."
Arutha smiles again at their banter and looks around. "Just point me in the right direction and I will head that way. Supporting those in need may not be my regular activity but I am more than happy to have some fun and help the needy at the same time. Thank you for the advice."
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Hearing the voices of Zavakk in his head John begins to wonder who's attention he really has gained, was there more to his demonstration than he realized? Are there people secretly watching him? "where do i fit in this grand scheme of things" John wondered. "Zavakk please tell me where i can find This Omaha, i'll show him what i can do and see if we make some.......arrangements if you will"
"Kaiylin I do mean well but if you say that all you need in my company than so be it." *Smiling Norvalor take the pouch of gold* "i will be at the purple wyrm for a drink with the Dwarf Cath later so i hope to see you there." *Norvalor walks off to the merchants looking for books and anything that can relate to powers that aren't learned and where they come from*
Perception: 16