Bullden leaves a few coins for a tip and nods to the barkeep for the info. I order 2 more beers and carry them over to Orst.
I take a seat next to Orst and settle the beers in front of us stating, "I heard from Bergin that your needing some escorts to the gate. Figuring since my group is heading that way we could help you out if your still need'n security."
{{Since my diplomacy sucks I would just persuade him with beer. Let me know if you need me to roll.))
He looks you up and down, the many folds of his chin and neck straining against a tight collar and blue silk kerchief.
"Indeed I am," he replies.
He takes the beer graciously, though you can tell it's not his preferred beverage. He sips it and gives a strained, toothy smile through puffy pink lips.
"Supposin' you're up to the task, eh? Ye look a little green around the edges and I hear there's nasty uglies wanderin' about."
Bullden takes swig of beer and says, "Green aint my color and as far uglies aint nothing uglier than me hammer crunching bones. My crew is capable don't ye doubt. Now what you offerin' for a security detail of 4?".
"Well, seein' as pickin's are slim and me and the boys need to get this load to the Gate," he says, "I'll offer your crew 5 gold coins to split between ye plus 10 combat pay if ye're forced to bear arms."
Portia listens to the offer and honestly has no idea if it is a good one. It doesn't cost much to live, but unlike her friends she could just stay at any temple of Lathander and be paid for her service with room and board along with money for other necessities. She never really thought about money the way Pettilaen did. He was greedy enough he had not even shared any of the money he had made off of the elves to help the party. She would make sure he was not the loot carrier when it was loot to be sold for party split.
She suddenly smiles realizing Bullden did not pay attention to what the dwarf was drinking. Maybe it would help if he got the right stuff to chase off the beer taste. She walks to the bar and quietly asks for a refill for Orst, not of the beer but the preferred drink. She then walks over with the drink and sets it before Orst.
She says in fairly unaccented dwarvish, "Chase the beer down with that. Sorry he got the wrong drink. He's more for the fighting than the talking. I'm Portia of the Song of the Morning and I'll be going on this trip to Baldur's Gate. I know how to fix up most ailments and have no qualms fighting when I have to. So what was the offer again?" She smiles as she takes an empty seat at the table. She could care less if it got better, but maybe it would.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PbP - Beregost Blues - Portia Starflower, Half Elf, Cleric, Life Domain PbP - Tome of Annhilation - Vistani Mocanu, Human, Bard
Portia offers the whiskey and Orst arches an eyebrow.
"Well, now, there's a first," he says. "An elf with good taste!"
He takes a long draught from the whiskey and wipes his lips with his sleeve.
"Well, I tell ye, if ye'll entertain a bored old dwarf with tales of ye'r exploits on the road, and maybe join in on a drinkin' song or two, I suppose I've got enough margin to offer ye 10 gold coin among ye plus the 10 if it comes to arms."
Portia's smile widens. "I learned to pay attention even if I might not get it right all the time. I might even take my share to try one of those, but maybe right before I go to bed to be on the safe side." She laughs and winks. "Might lead to a good tale along with the one no one will believe that I just created buying you that drink."
She gets a little more serious, but is still smiling. "We were looking to head out as soon as we could since we have some time left to travel and have other timing reasons to take in consideration. When do you think you will be ready to go and leave boredom behind?"
She continued this conversation in dwarvish. She didn't learn a bunch of languages for nothing. How was an acolyte of the Song of the Morning to help people if she didn't have a variety of tools to make it work best?
He stands up from the stool (more like slides off in a puddle and manages to land on the stubby appendages he calls legs) and drains both the beer and the most-of-a-pint of whiskey in two big gulps. He burps loudly (drawing ugly looks from the other patrons) and motions toward the door.
"I'll rig up the wagon. We can fetch the boys on our way."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PBP "Beregost Blues" - Dungeon Master of Gnome Slaying +5
Zina can tell before she even enters the Jovial Juggler that business is already hopping, even though it's very early in the afternoon. There's a drum-and-pipe duo playing and a house full of clapping drunkards. Every few minutes, a shrill whistle or catcall rings out.
Inside, she finds a full house with ale and grog flowing freely among a mostly younger patronage. Most of them appear to be middle to upper class local youth with a handful of exceptions:
Two jolly, pink-cheeked dwarven lads with frizzy hair and spotty beards sit close to the stage, pounding along with the beat on their ample bellies.
A tall, tanned goliath with absurdly wide shoulders stands near the rear of the establishment in fine, embroidered linen attire that appears to be from the Samarach Peninsula, far to the south. At first, it would be easy to assume he's working security, but his clothes are too fine and fragile and you note a handful of (red) dragonborn flanking the stage who're probably assigned to that task.
A creamy-skinned half-elf lady sits at a table surrounded by lithe, athletic, androgynous youths. One of them is fanning her, another whispering in her ear, another lifting her drink to her lips while the remaining 2 stand around watching the show with blank expressions. The lady wears silk-and-lace garb of red, orange, and yellow, as tastefully wrought as possible in such garish hues.
On the stage, two full-figured human ladies bounce and dance about in tiny little bodices and short pants, playing their pipe and drum, but clearly expecting their mediocre musical talent to be overshadowed by their other... assets.
"You sent your familiar and are waiting for it to come back?" Portia asked, visible concern on her face. The cleric was a much kinder person than Zina, and the gnome often wondered why she bothered dealing with her shenanigans. After doing a little more planning, the elf leaned down and whispered in her ear. "We'll find your familiar, too."
"It's ok, I've got him," the illusionist whispered back with a smile. Zina lifted open her pocket just enough so that Portia could see his little tongue stick out. "But I appreciate you looking out for me."
As Bullden and Portia decided to enquire after one lead, Zina decided to explore the other option. There were two opportunities for earning a little coin on the journey to Baldur's Gate, one with a dwarf and one with a juggler. The gnome didn't exactly care which they went with, so long as they made the most gold doing it and their client was alright.
Inside the Jovial Juggler, Zina was instantly overwhelmed by the many sights, sounds, and... smells. Not entirely sure what she was doing, the gnome's eyes zeroed in on the half-elf. She puffed up her chest, stood up as tall as she could (which was just over three feet when she stood on her toes), and made her way with purpose over to what she hoped to be Yiao. "Hello,"she said confidently. "My name is Zina, and I heard you were in search of a security escort."
Yiao doesn't appear to hear you initially, only her two... friends... that are on the side you approached from. One of them leans to whisper in Yiao's ear. She slowly turns her head your direction and wrinkles her nose when she doesn't see anyone. Her friend points downward. Her eyes track down to yours.
"Hmmmm?" She asks. "What was that, little one? Yiao did not hear."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PBP "Beregost Blues" - Dungeon Master of Gnome Slaying +5
"What was that, little one? Yiao did not hear," the elegant woman looked down her nose at the tiny gnome.
Zina's eyes sparked with arcane power and anger, not one to let go of a slight. She would make sure that Yiao would listen, and that she would see her for what she was. A minor illusion burst forth from the wizard, causing a terrifyingly loud boom to echo throughout the Jovial Juggler as an image also appeared behind her. A five foot tall image of a lion's head made entirely out of fire roared as it glared down at Yiao from its position over Zina's head.
"I'll say it slower, since you were clearly to great of an ignoramus to understand the first time," the illusionist replied cockily. "I... heard... you... need... someone... to... escort... you... to... the... Gate..."
The buxom duo on stage dive for cover. The dragonborn bouncers move toward your location. The goliath in the rear of the bar... well... for some reason, you don't see him anymore. Several drunk patrons fall to the floor, hide under tables, or rush for the door.
Yiao and her... let's call them minions... seem unphased. Check that. The minions are so expressionless it almost seems they didn't notice. Yiao is unphased, if a bit amused.
She says a few words and duplicates the effect, only with a dragon's roar and the image of a purple dragon's head wreathed in silver flames.
"If half ogres were easily frightened," she says, "I wouldn't need assistance. No, my dear, I'm looking for muscle, not magician's tricks."
She reaches into a purse, removes 5 platinum coins, and flips one to each of the dragonborn.
"We won't be needing your assistance, loves, but thanks for being on top of things."
She speaks in a silvery, almost ethereal voice and flashes a sultry smile.
The bouncers, other staff, and patrons take stock and note that no one's actually hurt. Some of the patrons seem to think this is some new, dramatic show and are clapping. Everyone takes a moment to gather their senses and decides (the coin incentive doesn't hurt) that there's nothing needing enforcement here.
The two illusory heads stared each other down, neither lion nor dragon willing to back down. "If half ogres were easily frightened," Yiao replied, completely unimpressed by her efforts. "I wouldn't need assistance. No, my dear, I'm looking for muscle, not magician's tricks."
"Oh, I've got more than just tricks," Zina's eyes glinted with mischief. She raised her hand, summoning a firebolt. She focused hard, allowing the flames to grow slowly in her hand. Unable to contain the power for too long, she sent the bolt flying right past Yiao's face. The firebolt skated by so closely it singed a few of the half-elf's hairs, but that was not Zina's intended target. She wasn't an idiot, after all. Instead, the bolt hit a copper mug at the table behind her with deadly accuracy.
"That was just me trying to get your attention, are you listening now?" Zina's voice, augmented with magic, boomed throughout the Jovial Juggler. "I can promise myself and my three companions are excellent warriors who would be able to protect you."
"How indelicate," Yiao still remained annoyingly non-plussed. Zina muttered under her breath some rude words in gnommish that would have made even Pettilaen blush had he heard them. "You'll want to check that ego, little one, or it's going to lead you to harm some day."
"Delicate is the last thing you want from a body guard, you racist hag," the gnome grumbled, loudly enough for Yiao to hear. The half-elf clearly didn't think highly of her, so she reasoned nothing that she could do would change that. "Your precious boy-toy was probably scared away by the light show. In any case, good day," the illusionist bowed deeply in mock reverence before turning on her heel and heading out the door.
The platinum pieces had given the gnome an idea, but she couldn't do it alone. Zina would have to swallow her pride and ask Pettilaen for help with her plan to get even.
Portia meanwhile was watching the excruciating task of hooking twelve horses to a heavy wagon. Maybe they would not catch Baradwulf at all, but at least the trip there would have its own amusements. Of course, while having nothing to do she wondered where the gnomes were at and what trouble would reciprocate onto her for knowingly being associated to them. They'd probably never succeed at any mission they ever did because of gnome antics and selfishness. She rolled her eyes thinking about it.
To distract herself she spent time really checking out the large draft horses and asking if they had names. The impressive beasts had to have strength because of the amount of masonry stone in the back. Soon they would see how well they really did pull a wagon. Thankfully it was on a well traveled road and if things hadn't changed since the night before the half-ogres were coming from the south.
In any case they would wind up in Baldur's Gate and hopefully be able to learn more about Baradwulf. At the least they would get the pay for saving Regis when they got there. She had that paper stored safely in a small waterproof pouch with some other papers close to her person.
As Zina leaves, she hears Yiao say something to her minions to the effect of, "Take note, my children, of how one should never behave. Decorum is the very mark of significance."
(The timing doesn't quite fit, but for game rhythm purposes I'm going to say Orst had a passel of stablehands helping him rig up...)
Right about that time, an especially heavy masonry cart trundles into view, driven by Orst and accompanied by the rest of the party on their own mounts.
"Where's my boys, all pink an pudgy? Where's my boys all tall and tubby?" Orst calls in a resonant sing-song voice. "Where's my boys, one Rorn, one Roe? Where's my boys, it's time to go!"
He follows the rhyme with a deep belly laugh. The two dwarven boys nearly wedge themselves in the doorway by racing (plodding and flopping) each other out of the tavern and into the street.
Bullden leaves a few coins for a tip and nods to the barkeep for the info. I order 2 more beers and carry them over to Orst.
I take a seat next to Orst and settle the beers in front of us stating, "I heard from Bergin that your needing some escorts to the gate. Figuring since my group is heading that way we could help you out if your still need'n security."
{{Since my diplomacy sucks I would just persuade him with beer. Let me know if you need me to roll.))
He looks you up and down, the many folds of his chin and neck straining against a tight collar and blue silk kerchief.
"Indeed I am," he replies.
He takes the beer graciously, though you can tell it's not his preferred beverage. He sips it and gives a strained, toothy smile through puffy pink lips.
"Supposin' you're up to the task, eh? Ye look a little green around the edges and I hear there's nasty uglies wanderin' about."
Bullden takes swig of beer and says, "Green aint my color and as far uglies aint nothing uglier than me hammer crunching bones. My crew is capable don't ye doubt. Now what you offerin' for a security detail of 4?".
He nods, his gaze dropping to the bar.
"Well, seein' as pickin's are slim and me and the boys need to get this load to the Gate," he says, "I'll offer your crew 5 gold coins to split between ye plus 10 combat pay if ye're forced to bear arms."
Portia listens to the offer and honestly has no idea if it is a good one. It doesn't cost much to live, but unlike her friends she could just stay at any temple of Lathander and be paid for her service with room and board along with money for other necessities. She never really thought about money the way Pettilaen did. He was greedy enough he had not even shared any of the money he had made off of the elves to help the party. She would make sure he was not the loot carrier when it was loot to be sold for party split.
She suddenly smiles realizing Bullden did not pay attention to what the dwarf was drinking. Maybe it would help if he got the right stuff to chase off the beer taste. She walks to the bar and quietly asks for a refill for Orst, not of the beer but the preferred drink. She then walks over with the drink and sets it before Orst.
She says in fairly unaccented dwarvish, "Chase the beer down with that. Sorry he got the wrong drink. He's more for the fighting than the talking. I'm Portia of the Song of the Morning and I'll be going on this trip to Baldur's Gate. I know how to fix up most ailments and have no qualms fighting when I have to. So what was the offer again?" She smiles as she takes an empty seat at the table. She could care less if it got better, but maybe it would.
PbP - Beregost Blues - Portia Starflower, Half Elf, Cleric, Life Domain
PbP - Tome of Annhilation - Vistani Mocanu, Human, Bard
Portia offers the whiskey and Orst arches an eyebrow.
"Well, now, there's a first," he says. "An elf with good taste!"
He takes a long draught from the whiskey and wipes his lips with his sleeve.
"Well, I tell ye, if ye'll entertain a bored old dwarf with tales of ye'r exploits on the road, and maybe join in on a drinkin' song or two, I suppose I've got enough margin to offer ye 10 gold coin among ye plus the 10 if it comes to arms."
Portia's smile widens. "I learned to pay attention even if I might not get it right all the time. I might even take my share to try one of those, but maybe right before I go to bed to be on the safe side." She laughs and winks. "Might lead to a good tale along with the one no one will believe that I just created buying you that drink."
She gets a little more serious, but is still smiling. "We were looking to head out as soon as we could since we have some time left to travel and have other timing reasons to take in consideration. When do you think you will be ready to go and leave boredom behind?"
She continued this conversation in dwarvish. She didn't learn a bunch of languages for nothing. How was an acolyte of the Song of the Morning to help people if she didn't have a variety of tools to make it work best?
PbP - Beregost Blues - Portia Starflower, Half Elf, Cleric, Life Domain
PbP - Tome of Annhilation - Vistani Mocanu, Human, Bard
He stands up from the stool (more like slides off in a puddle and manages to land on the stubby appendages he calls legs) and drains both the beer and the most-of-a-pint of whiskey in two big gulps. He burps loudly (drawing ugly looks from the other patrons) and motions toward the door.
"I'll rig up the wagon. We can fetch the boys on our way."
Zina can tell before she even enters the Jovial Juggler that business is already hopping, even though it's very early in the afternoon. There's a drum-and-pipe duo playing and a house full of clapping drunkards. Every few minutes, a shrill whistle or catcall rings out.
Inside, she finds a full house with ale and grog flowing freely among a mostly younger patronage. Most of them appear to be middle to upper class local youth with a handful of exceptions:
On the stage, two full-figured human ladies bounce and dance about in tiny little bodices and short pants, playing their pipe and drum, but clearly expecting their mediocre musical talent to be overshadowed by their other... assets.
"You sent your familiar and are waiting for it to come back?" Portia asked, visible concern on her face. The cleric was a much kinder person than Zina, and the gnome often wondered why she bothered dealing with her shenanigans. After doing a little more planning, the elf leaned down and whispered in her ear. "We'll find your familiar, too."
"It's ok, I've got him," the illusionist whispered back with a smile. Zina lifted open her pocket just enough so that Portia could see his little tongue stick out. "But I appreciate you looking out for me."
As Bullden and Portia decided to enquire after one lead, Zina decided to explore the other option. There were two opportunities for earning a little coin on the journey to Baldur's Gate, one with a dwarf and one with a juggler. The gnome didn't exactly care which they went with, so long as they made the most gold doing it and their client was alright.
Inside the Jovial Juggler, Zina was instantly overwhelmed by the many sights, sounds, and... smells. Not entirely sure what she was doing, the gnome's eyes zeroed in on the half-elf. She puffed up her chest, stood up as tall as she could (which was just over three feet when she stood on her toes), and made her way with purpose over to what she hoped to be Yiao. "Hello," she said confidently. "My name is Zina, and I heard you were in search of a security escort."
PBP: DM of Titans of Tomorrow
PBP: Lera Zahuv in Whispers of Dissent
PBP: Evaine Brae in Innistrad: Dark Ascension
PBP: Cor'avin in Tomb of Annihilation
Yiao doesn't appear to hear you initially, only her two... friends... that are on the side you approached from. One of them leans to whisper in Yiao's ear. She slowly turns her head your direction and wrinkles her nose when she doesn't see anyone. Her friend points downward. Her eyes track down to yours.
"Hmmmm?" She asks. "What was that, little one? Yiao did not hear."
"What was that, little one? Yiao did not hear," the elegant woman looked down her nose at the tiny gnome.
Zina's eyes sparked with arcane power and anger, not one to let go of a slight. She would make sure that Yiao would listen, and that she would see her for what she was. A minor illusion burst forth from the wizard, causing a terrifyingly loud boom to echo throughout the Jovial Juggler as an image also appeared behind her. A five foot tall image of a lion's head made entirely out of fire roared as it glared down at Yiao from its position over Zina's head.
"I'll say it slower, since you were clearly to great of an ignoramus to understand the first time," the illusionist replied cockily. "I... heard... you... need... someone... to... escort... you... to... the... Gate..."
PBP: DM of Titans of Tomorrow
PBP: Lera Zahuv in Whispers of Dissent
PBP: Evaine Brae in Innistrad: Dark Ascension
PBP: Cor'avin in Tomb of Annihilation
The buxom duo on stage dive for cover. The dragonborn bouncers move toward your location. The goliath in the rear of the bar... well... for some reason, you don't see him anymore. Several drunk patrons fall to the floor, hide under tables, or rush for the door.
Yiao and her... let's call them minions... seem unphased. Check that. The minions are so expressionless it almost seems they didn't notice. Yiao is unphased, if a bit amused.
She says a few words and duplicates the effect, only with a dragon's roar and the image of a purple dragon's head wreathed in silver flames.
"If half ogres were easily frightened," she says, "I wouldn't need assistance. No, my dear, I'm looking for muscle, not magician's tricks."
She reaches into a purse, removes 5 platinum coins, and flips one to each of the dragonborn.
"We won't be needing your assistance, loves, but thanks for being on top of things."
She speaks in a silvery, almost ethereal voice and flashes a sultry smile.
The bouncers, other staff, and patrons take stock and note that no one's actually hurt. Some of the patrons seem to think this is some new, dramatic show and are clapping. Everyone takes a moment to gather their senses and decides (the coin incentive doesn't hurt) that there's nothing needing enforcement here.
The two illusory heads stared each other down, neither lion nor dragon willing to back down. "If half ogres were easily frightened," Yiao replied, completely unimpressed by her efforts. "I wouldn't need assistance. No, my dear, I'm looking for muscle, not magician's tricks."
"Oh, I've got more than just tricks," Zina's eyes glinted with mischief. She raised her hand, summoning a firebolt. She focused hard, allowing the flames to grow slowly in her hand. Unable to contain the power for too long, she sent the bolt flying right past Yiao's face. The firebolt skated by so closely it singed a few of the half-elf's hairs, but that was not Zina's intended target. She wasn't an idiot, after all. Instead, the bolt hit a copper mug at the table behind her with deadly accuracy.
"That was just me trying to get your attention, are you listening now?" Zina's voice, augmented with magic, boomed throughout the Jovial Juggler. "I can promise myself and my three companions are excellent warriors who would be able to protect you."
PBP: DM of Titans of Tomorrow
PBP: Lera Zahuv in Whispers of Dissent
PBP: Evaine Brae in Innistrad: Dark Ascension
PBP: Cor'avin in Tomb of Annihilation
As Yiao stands, the expressionless faces of her minions turn downward into scowls.
"How indelicate," Yiao says. "You'll want to check that ego, little one, or it's going to lead you to harm some day."
She smiles as her minions gather up the train of her dress. She sweeps her gaze over the top of Zina's head toward the rear of the tavern.
"Now, I caught sight of a young man standing at the back some time ago. I wonder where he's gone?"
"How indelicate," Yiao still remained annoyingly non-plussed. Zina muttered under her breath some rude words in gnommish that would have made even Pettilaen blush had he heard them. "You'll want to check that ego, little one, or it's going to lead you to harm some day."
"Delicate is the last thing you want from a body guard, you racist hag," the gnome grumbled, loudly enough for Yiao to hear. The half-elf clearly didn't think highly of her, so she reasoned nothing that she could do would change that. "Your precious boy-toy was probably scared away by the light show. In any case, good day," the illusionist bowed deeply in mock reverence before turning on her heel and heading out the door.
The platinum pieces had given the gnome an idea, but she couldn't do it alone. Zina would have to swallow her pride and ask Pettilaen for help with her plan to get even.
PBP: DM of Titans of Tomorrow
PBP: Lera Zahuv in Whispers of Dissent
PBP: Evaine Brae in Innistrad: Dark Ascension
PBP: Cor'avin in Tomb of Annihilation
Portia meanwhile was watching the excruciating task of hooking twelve horses to a heavy wagon. Maybe they would not catch Baradwulf at all, but at least the trip there would have its own amusements. Of course, while having nothing to do she wondered where the gnomes were at and what trouble would reciprocate onto her for knowingly being associated to them. They'd probably never succeed at any mission they ever did because of gnome antics and selfishness. She rolled her eyes thinking about it.
To distract herself she spent time really checking out the large draft horses and asking if they had names. The impressive beasts had to have strength because of the amount of masonry stone in the back. Soon they would see how well they really did pull a wagon. Thankfully it was on a well traveled road and if things hadn't changed since the night before the half-ogres were coming from the south.
In any case they would wind up in Baldur's Gate and hopefully be able to learn more about Baradwulf. At the least they would get the pay for saving Regis when they got there. She had that paper stored safely in a small waterproof pouch with some other papers close to her person.
PbP - Beregost Blues - Portia Starflower, Half Elf, Cleric, Life Domain
PbP - Tome of Annhilation - Vistani Mocanu, Human, Bard
As Zina leaves, she hears Yiao say something to her minions to the effect of, "Take note, my children, of how one should never behave. Decorum is the very mark of significance."
(The timing doesn't quite fit, but for game rhythm purposes I'm going to say Orst had a passel of stablehands helping him rig up...)
Right about that time, an especially heavy masonry cart trundles into view, driven by Orst and accompanied by the rest of the party on their own mounts.
"Where's my boys, all pink an pudgy? Where's my boys all tall and tubby?" Orst calls in a resonant sing-song voice. "Where's my boys, one Rorn, one Roe? Where's my boys, it's time to go!"
He follows the rhyme with a deep belly laugh. The two dwarven boys nearly wedge themselves in the doorway by racing (plodding and flopping) each other out of the tavern and into the street.
Portia laughs at the antics of the dwarf and his boys. No surprise to her what they looked like.
She leveled her gaze on Zina. "So what are you up to and where is Pettilaen?"
PbP - Beregost Blues - Portia Starflower, Half Elf, Cleric, Life Domain
PbP - Tome of Annhilation - Vistani Mocanu, Human, Bard