"Aww you love the nickname, cause you so sour" She says as she then reluctantly comes to the table, hops up on the tall seat to stand. She plops her boots on the table and then looks to Daron. When Molly comes around she smiles.
"Yeah I'll take a human-sized pint of lager, and some of that mutton stew as well as any fruit if ya have it, the Human looking dope over there is buying" She says turning to look at the woman and then the men. " Looks like outta towners. Probably got some great baubl...er I mean souvenirs" She says not hiding the fact of what she is saying until she looked back at Loel and remembered he was with the Watch and altered her statement.
As Leol scans the crowd in the direction Molly looked, he doesn’t see anything particular that alerts him. The half-orc has defeated her opponent and is buying him an ale. The plinking notes of the bard in the corner are coalescing into a merry tune, despite his lute missing a string. The tattooed group is sulking and eating their grub.
Molly smiles and gives a laughing snort at Priscilla’s attempt to defray her tab. “I’ll have that right out,” she says and turns toward the kitchen.
A short time later, the table’s tankards are full and platters and bowls of tavern food adorn the table.
Daron's eyes went wide for a moment when Priscilla put her boots on the table but he didn't say anything about it, and instead tried acting as if everything was normal. He looks up when Leol asks him a question. "Nothing so far," he says with a shrug, "enlightenment doesn't come as quickly as I'd like. But I'm young yet," he takes a sip from his drink as his eyes pass over to the ended brawl between the half-orc and her opponent.
"What about you lot? Still keeping up with the old ways, I'm assuming?"
" You frighten No never would have guessed" She says taking some bread to scoop up.some stew, before grabbing the pint with two hands and drinking it. She then smiles. " Enlightenment? I didnt think your pursuits envolved enlightenment. Maybe lightening burdens but not Enoightenment. And before you go saying anything Loel, I am more that just a common Docl Ward Halfling lass down on her luck. I am a Finder of Lost things, Redistribtor of wealth, an accomplish Caravanner and Teamster as well as a Master Chef!"
"There are many ways to reach enlightenment," Daron says with a grin, "including lighting some purses to redistributing them to people who need them more." He knew Leol might not approve of that sort of method for gaining wisdom, and it was for that that he gave him a sly wink as he took another sip from his tankard. "Some might not agree with that method, of course, but one must not deprive themselves of wisdom wherever it may be."
The door opens loudly, a disheveled mess of a man stumbling in while trying to keep a pack filled with papers, books and scrolls from spilling on the floor. He successfully manages the mess, forgetting though that he had his quarter staff in the other hand. His efforts to avert a parchment avalanche result in the end of his staff slamming into the back of the head of a passing patron who then stumbles into a passing serving wench whose drinks spill upon a group of rowdy dwarves playing cards. All eyes slowly turn to the mess of the man standing near the doorway.
“Um, uh, hullo....yes, I’m here to, um, see the proprietor...” Kip Dalton says with a lopsided smile.
"Kip!" Daron shouts out in the resounding silence, raising a hand to catch the man's attention, waving him over if he's seen. The mess he'd made was a bit unfortunate, but hopefully by associating him with all these folk, any of the angry patrons wouldn't have ideas to stand up and give the bard a piece of their mind.
"Enlightenment eh? You chase fools gold and will be no better off when you find this elusive dream you call enlightenment. You want to see better? Cast one of those magic lights I hear about. Then you will be enlightened!"
The dwarf roars with laughter at his own joke and slams his hand down on the table.
Hearing his name, Kip looks up finding a familiar face. “Thank the gods,” he mutters under his breath, and then louder while flourishing a bow to the perturbed onlookers, “Thank you, I’ll be here all night.” Kip moves over to the table, settling into a chair and letting his pack, staff and other items clatter to the floor around him. “Well met, my friend...a timely intervention on my behalf is greatly appreciated.”
A weathered, older gentleman with stringy hair, once white but now yellowed to the color of pale piss, rubs the back of his head where a large goose-egg size lump is forming. A frown causes a multitude of additional creases to form across his face. He sits down in the nearest chair like a cowed dog.
Molly, the barmaid, is profusely apologizing to the table of dwarves and sopping up spilled ale with her apron. It is difficult to tell if they are more upset that the four individual piles of silver and gold winnings were now mixed together on the tabletop or that the coins are now swimming in wasted ale.
The dwarf with a particularly bulbous, red nose finds Kip’s gaze and jabs a finger at him from across the 20-foot space dividing their tables, a frown cutting a deep riff in his face. His three friends, perhaps they had losing hands or had less ale in their tankards, are each clapping the angry dwarf on the back and urging him back to his seat.
From behind the bar, Durnan rolls his eyes at the events and stomps out of the area and into the common room. “I’ll talk to *you* later,” he says pointedly to Kip as he passes by to the dwarves’ table where he eventually convinces the dwarf to retake his seat.
"Wow, Pretty boy is here too!" She says as she finishes laughing at the dwarf's bad joke. It was one of the reasons she liked Pickle he told awful jokes, which secretly were the best joke.
"You know PB, them dwarves won't forget that slight, also you have mark written all over you, but I am pretty sure you know that" She says looking at the human with her big brown eyes but actually watching the dwarf. Her hand seemingly allows for a dagger to appear in her hand underhanded before Durnan comes by and stops the dwarf. She slips the dagger back and then smiles."But then again that's why you are pretty right?"
Daron couldn't help but grin from beneath his tankard at the dwarf's joke, even if it was at his own expense. The pun was horrid, but as one who spent most of his life entertaining others with music and wordplay, he learned to appreciate puns more than the average person.
Setting the tankard down, he looked up to see that the dwarves on a nearby table were getting agitated, one in particular. And in those few tense moments, Daron grabbed hold of his quarterstaff, his face going blank as he prepared himself for a potential brawl.
Thankfully it was averted before anything could happen and the half-elf leaned back on his chair, a smile returning to his lips. "If I could do such a thing, friend," he said referring to the enlightened joke, "I'd be the most enlightened man that ever lived. Got to leave some for others, hey?"
He then patted Kip's shoulder as he was thanked. "If they get any ideas regarding our friend here," he said to Priscilla, "I'm sure he can handle himself. I'd be more worried about that dwarf getting his ass beat by a bard."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Kip offers a quick smile, grabbing a tankard and helping himself to a drink while glancing at each of his table mates and drinking in everything about them. “Oh Daron, I’m sure it wouldn’t have come to that,” he dismisses. “I’m Kip. Kip Dalton,” he offers up to those he doesn’t know on a name basis. As he does, he gives Priscilla a quick wink. “So, anybody got a clue as to why we’re all here?”
(Perception, if needed, for his quick study of his group:15)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd) Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist) Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
"I'm Grykham. A pleasure I'm sure. As for why are are here? I don't know. But if it's to be thrown out of this bar for getting in fights I'll walk right now. "
The dwarf gets another scowl on his face as he says this.
The silence dissipates after the bulbous nose dwarf returns to his cards and the new drinks provided by Durnan. The talking, laughing, yelling, and singing, the language of any good tavern, fills the air again. Soon the party’s table is littered with empty plates and bowls. The bard with the three-stringed lute is leading a group of drunk men and women in round after round of bawdy songs that leads to peels of laughter and more rounds of ale. A table of human and elven gamblers are yelling half-friendly insults at each other as one of them throws down his cards in disgust. A group of young adventuring types are chanting and throwing back shots of a dark amber liquid near the pit, promising each other to meet back in a year’s time to go down together.
Molly approaches your table and begins to clear off the dishes.“Durnan, says you can audition after Matt is finished with his set tonight, but don’t be surprised if he makes you pay for the dwarves’ round with your first week’s pay,” she grins at Kip. At that moment, she again cocks her head to the side, and Leol having previously watched her do this, follows her eyes over to the crowd between the door and one of the fireplaces.
“You sinking, filthy, half-breed pig! Like killing my mates, do ya?” Then the seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a tankard from the wild swing of one of the shaven and tattooed men. The half-orc's head-full of long dark braids dotted with metal bands and beads swings in an arch, the impact of the punch knocking her head hard to the side. The shaven-head male’s four other similarly-fashioned human friends are behind him, fists clenched and ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, bellows a roar between her prominent incisors, and leaps toward the tattooed figure.
Before the you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl blocking your view. They are yelling, cheering, booing as punches begin to land. Some of the gamblers clamber from their seats and press into the crowd and begin betting among themselves.
How do you react?
((Feel free to talk about it, act, or just watch, but just let me know how you react. ---
Not an orc and shaven-headed male, but a tavern brawl picture non-the-less))
The scowl on Grykham's face deepens even more at the sounds of the brawl that erupts. He stands and looks to the exit.
You can hear him grumbling under his breath but not enough to make out any of the words.
If the way is clear and he can leave without getting too close to the fight he'll do so. If that doesn't look promising he'll find a spot as far from the fight as possible and stay out of the way. The look on his face makes it clear to anyone that might try to fight him that he is not interested and that trying something isn't a good idea.
Gryk is able to step outside if he wishes, but the brawl seems contained to just the offending parties. A tavern-wide brawl is not in danger of breaking out. If remaining in his seat, the dwarf will not have to become involved at all.
"Aww you love the nickname, cause you so sour" She says as she then reluctantly comes to the table, hops up on the tall seat to stand. She plops her boots on the table and then looks to Daron. When Molly comes around she smiles.
"Yeah I'll take a human-sized pint of lager, and some of that mutton stew as well as any fruit if ya have it, the Human looking dope over there is buying" She says turning to look at the woman and then the men. " Looks like outta towners. Probably got some great baubl...er I mean souvenirs" She says not hiding the fact of what she is saying until she looked back at Loel and remembered he was with the Watch and altered her statement.
As Leol scans the crowd in the direction Molly looked, he doesn’t see anything particular that alerts him. The half-orc has defeated her opponent and is buying him an ale. The plinking notes of the bard in the corner are coalescing into a merry tune, despite his lute missing a string. The tattooed group is sulking and eating their grub.
Molly smiles and gives a laughing snort at Priscilla’s attempt to defray her tab. “I’ll have that right out,” she says and turns toward the kitchen.
A short time later, the table’s tankards are full and platters and bowls of tavern food adorn the table.
Ivolyn Brun, human wizard in Lost Mine of Phandelver
Daron's eyes went wide for a moment when Priscilla put her boots on the table but he didn't say anything about it, and instead tried acting as if everything was normal. He looks up when Leol asks him a question. "Nothing so far," he says with a shrug, "enlightenment doesn't come as quickly as I'd like. But I'm young yet," he takes a sip from his drink as his eyes pass over to the ended brawl between the half-orc and her opponent.
"What about you lot? Still keeping up with the old ways, I'm assuming?"
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
" You frighten No never would have guessed" She says taking some bread to scoop up.some stew, before grabbing the pint with two hands and drinking it. She then smiles. " Enlightenment? I didnt think your pursuits envolved enlightenment. Maybe lightening burdens but not Enoightenment. And before you go saying anything Loel, I am more that just a common Docl Ward Halfling lass down on her luck. I am a Finder of Lost things, Redistribtor of wealth, an accomplish Caravanner and Teamster as well as a Master Chef!"
"There are many ways to reach enlightenment," Daron says with a grin, "including lighting some purses to redistributing them to people who need them more." He knew Leol might not approve of that sort of method for gaining wisdom, and it was for that that he gave him a sly wink as he took another sip from his tankard. "Some might not agree with that method, of course, but one must not deprive themselves of wisdom wherever it may be."
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
The door opens loudly, a disheveled mess of a man stumbling in while trying to keep a pack filled with papers, books and scrolls from spilling on the floor. He successfully manages the mess, forgetting though that he had his quarter staff in the other hand. His efforts to avert a parchment avalanche result in the end of his staff slamming into the back of the head of a passing patron who then stumbles into a passing serving wench whose drinks spill upon a group of rowdy dwarves playing cards. All eyes slowly turn to the mess of the man standing near the doorway.
“Um, uh, hullo....yes, I’m here to, um, see the proprietor...” Kip Dalton says with a lopsided smile.
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
"Kip!" Daron shouts out in the resounding silence, raising a hand to catch the man's attention, waving him over if he's seen. The mess he'd made was a bit unfortunate, but hopefully by associating him with all these folk, any of the angry patrons wouldn't have ideas to stand up and give the bard a piece of their mind.
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
"Enlightenment eh? You chase fools gold and will be no better off when you find this elusive dream you call enlightenment. You want to see better? Cast one of those magic lights I hear about. Then you will be enlightened!"
The dwarf roars with laughter at his own joke and slams his hand down on the table.
Hearing his name, Kip looks up finding a familiar face. “Thank the gods,” he mutters under his breath, and then louder while flourishing a bow to the perturbed onlookers, “Thank you, I’ll be here all night.” Kip moves over to the table, settling into a chair and letting his pack, staff and other items clatter to the floor around him. “Well met, my friend...a timely intervention on my behalf is greatly appreciated.”
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
A weathered, older gentleman with stringy hair, once white but now yellowed to the color of pale piss, rubs the back of his head where a large goose-egg size lump is forming. A frown causes a multitude of additional creases to form across his face. He sits down in the nearest chair like a cowed dog.
Molly, the barmaid, is profusely apologizing to the table of dwarves and sopping up spilled ale with her apron. It is difficult to tell if they are more upset that the four individual piles of silver and gold winnings were now mixed together on the tabletop or that the coins are now swimming in wasted ale.
The dwarf with a particularly bulbous, red nose finds Kip’s gaze and jabs a finger at him from across the 20-foot space dividing their tables, a frown cutting a deep riff in his face. His three friends, perhaps they had losing hands or had less ale in their tankards, are each clapping the angry dwarf on the back and urging him back to his seat.
From behind the bar, Durnan rolls his eyes at the events and stomps out of the area and into the common room. “I’ll talk to *you* later,” he says pointedly to Kip as he passes by to the dwarves’ table where he eventually convinces the dwarf to retake his seat.
Ivolyn Brun, human wizard in Lost Mine of Phandelver
"Wow, Pretty boy is here too!" She says as she finishes laughing at the dwarf's bad joke. It was one of the reasons she liked Pickle he told awful jokes, which secretly were the best joke.
"You know PB, them dwarves won't forget that slight, also you have mark written all over you, but I am pretty sure you know that" She says looking at the human with her big brown eyes but actually watching the dwarf. Her hand seemingly allows for a dagger to appear in her hand underhanded before Durnan comes by and stops the dwarf. She slips the dagger back and then smiles."But then again that's why you are pretty right?"
Daron couldn't help but grin from beneath his tankard at the dwarf's joke, even if it was at his own expense. The pun was horrid, but as one who spent most of his life entertaining others with music and wordplay, he learned to appreciate puns more than the average person.
Setting the tankard down, he looked up to see that the dwarves on a nearby table were getting agitated, one in particular. And in those few tense moments, Daron grabbed hold of his quarterstaff, his face going blank as he prepared himself for a potential brawl.
Thankfully it was averted before anything could happen and the half-elf leaned back on his chair, a smile returning to his lips. "If I could do such a thing, friend," he said referring to the enlightened joke, "I'd be the most enlightened man that ever lived. Got to leave some for others, hey?"
He then patted Kip's shoulder as he was thanked. "If they get any ideas regarding our friend here," he said to Priscilla, "I'm sure he can handle himself. I'd be more worried about that dwarf getting his ass beat by a bard."
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
Kip offers a quick smile, grabbing a tankard and helping himself to a drink while glancing at each of his table mates and drinking in everything about them. “Oh Daron, I’m sure it wouldn’t have come to that,” he dismisses. “I’m Kip. Kip Dalton,” he offers up to those he doesn’t know on a name basis. As he does, he gives Priscilla a quick wink. “So, anybody got a clue as to why we’re all here?”
(Perception, if needed, for his quick study of his group: 15)
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
"I'm Grykham. A pleasure I'm sure. As for why are are here? I don't know. But if it's to be thrown out of this bar for getting in fights I'll walk right now. "
The dwarf gets another scowl on his face as he says this.
The silence dissipates after the bulbous nose dwarf returns to his cards and the new drinks provided by Durnan. The talking, laughing, yelling, and singing, the language of any good tavern, fills the air again. Soon the party’s table is littered with empty plates and bowls. The bard with the three-stringed lute is leading a group of drunk men and women in round after round of bawdy songs that leads to peels of laughter and more rounds of ale. A table of human and elven gamblers are yelling half-friendly insults at each other as one of them throws down his cards in disgust. A group of young adventuring types are chanting and throwing back shots of a dark amber liquid near the pit, promising each other to meet back in a year’s time to go down together.
Molly approaches your table and begins to clear off the dishes. “Durnan, says you can audition after Matt is finished with his set tonight, but don’t be surprised if he makes you pay for the dwarves’ round with your first week’s pay,” she grins at Kip. At that moment, she again cocks her head to the side, and Leol having previously watched her do this, follows her eyes over to the crowd between the door and one of the fireplaces.
“You sinking, filthy, half-breed pig! Like killing my mates, do ya?” Then the seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a tankard from the wild swing of one of the shaven and tattooed men. The half-orc's head-full of long dark braids dotted with metal bands and beads swings in an arch, the impact of the punch knocking her head hard to the side. The shaven-head male’s four other similarly-fashioned human friends are behind him, fists clenched and ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, bellows a roar between her prominent incisors, and leaps toward the tattooed figure.
Before the you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl blocking your view. They are yelling, cheering, booing as punches begin to land. Some of the gamblers clamber from their seats and press into the crowd and begin betting among themselves.
How do you react?
((Feel free to talk about it, act, or just watch, but just let me know how you react. ---
Not an orc and shaven-headed male, but a tavern brawl picture non-the-less))
Ivolyn Brun, human wizard in Lost Mine of Phandelver
The scowl on Grykham's face deepens even more at the sounds of the brawl that erupts. He stands and looks to the exit.
You can hear him grumbling under his breath but not enough to make out any of the words.
If the way is clear and he can leave without getting too close to the fight he'll do so. If that doesn't look promising he'll find a spot as far from the fight as possible and stay out of the way. The look on his face makes it clear to anyone that might try to fight him that he is not interested and that trying something isn't a good idea.
Gryk is able to step outside if he wishes, but the brawl seems contained to just the offending parties. A tavern-wide brawl is not in danger of breaking out. If remaining in his seat, the dwarf will not have to become involved at all.
Ivolyn Brun, human wizard in Lost Mine of Phandelver