Spending the night on the High Road is always a gamble. Things can go terribly wrong, or an uneventful night can grant travelers a night of good rest. In your case, it was the latter.
Time passes by without complications. A few people are seen walking toward Neverwinter, others coming from the city. A few merchants traveling in caravan nod at you, as they go. They travel hastily, presumably trying to make it to the city as soon as possible to sell their wares. They travel with guards, as any wise merchant would in this part of the world.
During her watch, Loraviel hears the explosion of sounds coming from the woods, as all the night critters go out to hunt, or escape from predators. This is not new to the druid, who has spent most of her life surrounded by nature.
After a few minutes, the elf notices something is not right. Neck muscles stiffening, she scans her surroundings, trying to find the source of her uneasiness. Everything seems normal, with the exception of two yellow eyes looking at her from the woods. She blinks, perplexed, and the eyes are no longer there, nor they appear anymore tonight.
Nothing else worth noticing happens tonight. Dawn comes quickly and the group awaken and get ready to continue their trip. One more day before reaching the Triboar trail, where they will veer east toward Phandalin.
After the company left the camp in the morning. Loraviel waits for an opportune moment. “Huhhh.... Dear companions. I ahh, would like to apologize for being so cold on the previous days. Being in a big city like Neverwinter by myself made me quite uncomfortable. Now that I am closer to the Forest, I feel much better.”Loraviel says from the driver’s seat.
“Well. We still have a couple day’s worth of travel. I would like to take this opportunity to get to know you all a little better... If I may.”
She looks at Pardo, to the right of the wagon. “What about we start with you Pardo? Our fearless leader, and I do not say it in jest. I am sure you, Sir, will guide us true through this journey. You mentioned that you have spent your adult life mounting on ponies and mastiffs.” She purposely omit some of the words and smiles a little. “Are you ready to mount on a BEAR?” Her eyes opens wide.“My mother loves to Wild Shape into a brown bear, and she would go patrolling our Forest with Mamma Urza.” She pauses briefly."I hope that I will also be able to do that soon."
She turns to Ebb to the left of the wagon. “Ebb, can you tell us a little about Flo? I am very curious. I also would like to mention that you remind me of my father. I am sure when he was younger, he would be able to split a goblin’s skull with his bare hands.”
She looks next to her. “Sage, you mentioned that perhaps some day you would tell me the story of your very peculiar lantern. I would love to hear about it. If you would like to share it’s story, of course. Ohh, and by the way. Thank you for your Guidance. It helped me move silently through the Forest last night.”
Finally, she looks behind the wagon. “So, Kilxus, do you have a story for your sickle? I haven’t heard much from you, except that you joked that you “bite”. I would love to hear your story as well.”
The shy and uncertain Wood Elf from when they met is no longer present. Though Loraviel does not exude confidence. She is definitely more comfortable in her own skin now.
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
Kilxus ponders the question holding his sickle lovingly. With a haunted look at Loraviel he explains, "When I was young, my family was slaughtered by a balor, yet he left me alive. Even after I trabbed my father's sickle and sliced deep into his arm, he only laughed and left. I sat alone for many days before a family friend showed up to visit us. I was unable to eat or drink, and had grown weak, waiting for the balor to return. He never did, and I grew up with the family friend who taught me how to wield my little sickle."
He placed the sickle back on his belt, "Eventually though I made my pact, and now I use magic as I can, I would be very distraught if I accidentally broke my sickle," Kilxus says as he mindlessly fiddles with a samll unadorned ring on his finger.
Loraviel's question wrests Pardo out of his thoughts and he silently reprimands himself for his carelessness. Idiot, an orc caravan could have traveled past you last night and now this.
Nevertheless, he can't help but smile wistfully at the Elf's question.
"In my wildest dreams, I could not have thought to mount such a fearsome steed. I pray that when that time comes, my lance and I prove worthy of your honor."
"Good Priest, I am no more Captain of this party than any here," Pardo says. He attempts to bow his head humbly but all can see that he is pleased.
Surge smiles at Pardo as says sincerely "well, every ship needs a captain." "I didn't say you were bad at it, you know." He gives him a wink and sits back in his seat yet again. He adds "better you than me" in a more somber tone.
"Thank you for dinner" the Priest says to both Loraviel and Ebb. As Loraviel heads off the the wagon Surge strolls by and offers a pear since she seemed to be more successful feeding everyone else than herself. "Don't leave port without it" he muses.
“Huhhh.... Dear companions. I ahh, would like to apologize for being so cold on the previous days. Being in a big city like Neverwinter by myself made me quite uncomfortable. Now that I am closer to the Forest, I feel much better.” Loraviel says from the driver’s seat. "Sage, you mentioned that perhaps some day you would tell me the story of your very peculiar lantern. I would love to hear about it. If you would like to share it’s story, of course. Ohh, and by the way. Thank you for your Guidance. It helped me move silently through the Forest last night.”
"No need to apologize Loraviel, I may not be my best self when too near a tavern either, at times, especially lately. Any appreciation for divine blessings can go to Eldath, I'm but a hungry and selfish fish flapping about on dry land."He glances at his lantern quickly and exhales."It was my Captain's. Perhaps I'll tell you the rest when we reach Phandalin."
(Sorry I missed the perception checks last night.)
Surge smiles at Pardo as says sincerely "well, every ship needs a captain." "I didn't say you were bad at it, you know."
Pardo nods at the priest with gratitude. "I pray that if I give you occasion to do so, you will be unsparing." Pardo continued on the journey fortified. He had eaten well. He had slept, albeit fitfully, beneath the stars. And he had the acceptance and respect of his Companions. Priest, who seemed to always know exactly what his companions needed to hear. Ebb, who projected a calm competence that anchored the Company. Even Kilxus, though clearly burdened and drawn to chaos had lived up to the Company's vow with great solemnity and respect.
And Lovariel. Pardo allowed himself to shrug off his shame and self-doubt and clearly recall the Elf's abilities. He jogged closer to the right side of the cart and called to Lovariel.
"Lovariel. I was remiss in not remarking upon your abilities last evening. You moved through the forest as the autumn wind. Unseen, but forceful. And you are clearly an artist with the bow. The oxen heed you call as if you were their own mother. The Company is fortunate, indeed, to count you a member."
Yes, he thought, a Captain must see his crew's successes and praise them in the same measure as he would admonish their mistakes.
She turns to Ebb to the left of the wagon. “Ebb, can you tell us a little about Flo? I am very curious. I also would like to mention that you remind me of my father. I am sure when he was younger, he would be able to split a goblin’s skull with his bare hands.”
"As a child I was afraid of the dark, so my friend tried to teach me the spell Dancing Lights, but I never learned to do it well enough. The most I could ever do was this little ball of light, but I was able to keep it up for longer periods of time. It started to be like our little pet, so we decided we should name it. He said the word Flow as a joke, so it always stuck."
"As a child I was afraid of the dark, so my friend tried to teach me the spell Dancing Lights, but I never learned to do it well enough. The most I could ever do was this little ball of light, but I was able to keep it up for longer periods of time. It started to be like our little pet, so we decided we should name it. He said the word Flow as a joke, so it always stuck."
Pardo nods thoughtfully. "I have always considered punning the highest form of humor."
At the mention of the artistry with the bow by Pardo. Loraviel stiffens slightly. With the hood of her black cloak down, one can see that the dark skin of her cheeks turn slightly pink. She cocks her head slightly to the side, and with her left hand brings some of her black hair behind her shoulder, above her ear. She switches the saddle to her left hand and slowly with her right hand she grabs something under her cloak. One would think by now that her cloak seems like a bag of holding, one can't never tell what's under it.
Loraviel, shyly brings out a sling from under her cloak, and shows it to Pardo and her companions. "This is what I use if I need to hit a target from afar." She says with a little bit of shame. "My parents believe that ranged weapons are for cowards. They like to be "in your face" as my father always like to put it. It took me a year to convince him to allow me to get myself a ranged weapon. He told me that I would have to fashion it myself. So I made this..." The sling looks like it has been made by a child, it looks functional, but it is a very crude weapon. "Well... At the very least I got a chuckle out of my parents when they saw the finished product."
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
Pardo responds uncharacteristically simply, lacking the florid flourishes and pomp of his usual compliments.
"I once met a warrior who claimed he could fell Hill or Frost Giants with such a weapon. He taught me that the wise warrior fears no weapon; only the skill of the hand that wields it. "
When the company stops for their midday rest. Loraviel sits next to Kilxus. "I am really sorry about your family. Just the thought of losing my family breaks my heart, so I cannot imagine the pain that you feel. I hope that one day we may aid you in avenging your family. I am sure this "balor" is no match for this group of friends." Loraviel clearly has no idea what a balor is, nor has she seen any extra planar being in her life for that matter. She pats Kilxus on his back. "I am looking forward to that day my friend. I will do my best to make sure that the last thing that monster sees is your sickle ending its despicable existence.
Loraviel gets up and starts to walk around the area looking for pebbles. She tries to pick some nice rounded ones, and put them in her pocket. Now that her "shameful secret" is out, she needs to get ammunition.
(OCC: I am just moving things along a little bit here)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
Kilxus watches as Loraviel walks away, looking for stones. He smiles and appreciates her comradeship but womders if she actually knows what a balor is. He shrugged and waits for the journey to begin again.
After a light lunch, march is resumed. Those of you who know the High Road, know that you have been lucky. Either that or your god is looking after you. After an uneventful afternoon, you decide to call it a day.
You should make it to Phandalin by noon tomorrow. No need to push the oxen, after all Gundren never mentioned a deadline. Life is good in the High Road.
As you are setting up the camp for the night, a peddler stops next to you and speaks up:
"Hi good folks. Can an old man traveling alone take advantage of your camp tonight?"
He wears common clothing and sports a long white beard. He is bald and rather small for a human, even for an old one. Probably his hunchback doesn't help. A walking stick and a small bag comprise his equipment.
"Name is Tibard. My daughter waits for me in Neverwinter. If you are so kind as to have me stay with you tonight, I will make sure you have a proper roof above your head next time you visit the city. What say you?"
Surge is amused as Pardo declares himself Captain, even if only half heartedly. "Let him stay, it's the right thing to do and it's a generous offer in return." The genasi jumps down off of the wagon where he had been fetching his cask of water and sticks out a slightly wet hand. "They call me Priest."
Surge privately tries to size the man up and measure the truth in his words. Insight: 25
If given the chance to do so safely and privately, perhaps while fetching water or doing some other task, Surge whispers to Pardo "keep your friends close, and potentially enemies...well, you know." "He'll be nearby either way now that it's dark, so I'd rather have eyes on him, ideally more than two of them."
A short bit later Surge says casually "so, two per watch once again tonight? I'm happy to join the first while the fire's still strong." He hopes his new friends catch on, and wants to size Tibard up a bit more before letting his guard down to sleep.
"Hello Tibard, it is a pleasure to meet you" With his right hand, Ebb will go to take Tibar's hand, as he does so he'll brush it by the man's beard(making sure he's not doing a Disguise Self spell or anything). With his left he will pat Tibard on the shoulder. (Perception 5)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Upon request to camp with us. "Well, hello there good sir!! But of cour...." Loraviel is interrupted by Pardo. She is utterly confused by his speech. Things about gods that she never heard of. She looks at Pardo to try to understand if he is jesting or if he truly means what he is saying. (Perception on Pardo: 18)
(OCC: I would like to know who adjudicates that check :-)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
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Kilxus (Perception) 2
Spending the night on the High Road is always a gamble. Things can go terribly wrong, or an uneventful night can grant travelers a night of good rest. In your case, it was the latter.
Time passes by without complications. A few people are seen walking toward Neverwinter, others coming from the city. A few merchants traveling in caravan nod at you, as they go. They travel hastily, presumably trying to make it to the city as soon as possible to sell their wares. They travel with guards, as any wise merchant would in this part of the world.
During her watch, Loraviel hears the explosion of sounds coming from the woods, as all the night critters go out to hunt, or escape from predators. This is not new to the druid, who has spent most of her life surrounded by nature.
After a few minutes, the elf notices something is not right. Neck muscles stiffening, she scans her surroundings, trying to find the source of her uneasiness. Everything seems normal, with the exception of two yellow eyes looking at her from the woods. She blinks, perplexed, and the eyes are no longer there, nor they appear anymore tonight.
Nothing else worth noticing happens tonight. Dawn comes quickly and the group awaken and get ready to continue their trip. One more day before reaching the Triboar trail, where they will veer east toward Phandalin.
After the company left the camp in the morning. Loraviel waits for an opportune moment. “Huhhh.... Dear companions. I ahh, would like to apologize for being so cold on the previous days. Being in a big city like Neverwinter by myself made me quite uncomfortable. Now that I am closer to the Forest, I feel much better.” Loraviel says from the driver’s seat.
“Well. We still have a couple day’s worth of travel. I would like to take this opportunity to get to know you all a little better... If I may.”
She looks at Pardo, to the right of the wagon. “What about we start with you Pardo? Our fearless leader, and I do not say it in jest. I am sure you, Sir, will guide us true through this journey. You mentioned that you have spent your adult life mounting on ponies and mastiffs.” She purposely omit some of the words and smiles a little. “Are you ready to mount on a BEAR?” Her eyes opens wide. “My mother loves to Wild Shape into a brown bear, and she would go patrolling our Forest with Mamma Urza.” She pauses briefly. "I hope that I will also be able to do that soon."
She turns to Ebb to the left of the wagon. “Ebb, can you tell us a little about Flo? I am very curious. I also would like to mention that you remind me of my father. I am sure when he was younger, he would be able to split a goblin’s skull with his bare hands.”
She looks next to her. “Sage, you mentioned that perhaps some day you would tell me the story of your very peculiar lantern. I would love to hear about it. If you would like to share it’s story, of course. Ohh, and by the way. Thank you for your Guidance. It helped me move silently through the Forest last night.”
Finally, she looks behind the wagon. “So, Kilxus, do you have a story for your sickle? I haven’t heard much from you, except that you joked that you “bite”. I would love to hear your story as well.”
The shy and uncertain Wood Elf from when they met is no longer present. Though Loraviel does not exude confidence. She is definitely more comfortable in her own skin now.
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks
Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story
Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
Kilxus ponders the question holding his sickle lovingly. With a haunted look at Loraviel he explains, "When I was young, my family was slaughtered by a balor, yet he left me alive. Even after I trabbed my father's sickle and sliced deep into his arm, he only laughed and left. I sat alone for many days before a family friend showed up to visit us. I was unable to eat or drink, and had grown weak, waiting for the balor to return. He never did, and I grew up with the family friend who taught me how to wield my little sickle."
He placed the sickle back on his belt, "Eventually though I made my pact, and now I use magic as I can, I would be very distraught if I accidentally broke my sickle," Kilxus says as he mindlessly fiddles with a samll unadorned ring on his finger.
Loraviel's question wrests Pardo out of his thoughts and he silently reprimands himself for his carelessness. Idiot, an orc caravan could have traveled past you last night and now this.
Nevertheless, he can't help but smile wistfully at the Elf's question.
"In my wildest dreams, I could not have thought to mount such a fearsome steed. I pray that when that time comes, my lance and I prove worthy of your honor."
Surge smiles at Pardo as says sincerely "well, every ship needs a captain." "I didn't say you were bad at it, you know." He gives him a wink and sits back in his seat yet again. He adds "better you than me" in a more somber tone.
"Thank you for dinner" the Priest says to both Loraviel and Ebb. As Loraviel heads off the the wagon Surge strolls by and offers a pear since she seemed to be more successful feeding everyone else than herself. "Don't leave port without it" he muses.
"No need to apologize Loraviel, I may not be my best self when too near a tavern either, at times, especially lately. Any appreciation for divine blessings can go to Eldath, I'm but a hungry and selfish fish flapping about on dry land." He glances at his lantern quickly and exhales. "It was my Captain's. Perhaps I'll tell you the rest when we reach Phandalin."
(Sorry I missed the perception checks last night.)
Pardo nods at the priest with gratitude. "I pray that if I give you occasion to do so, you will be unsparing." Pardo continued on the journey fortified. He had eaten well. He had slept, albeit fitfully, beneath the stars. And he had the acceptance and respect of his Companions. Priest, who seemed to always know exactly what his companions needed to hear. Ebb, who projected a calm competence that anchored the Company. Even Kilxus, though clearly burdened and drawn to chaos had lived up to the Company's vow with great solemnity and respect.
And Lovariel. Pardo allowed himself to shrug off his shame and self-doubt and clearly recall the Elf's abilities. He jogged closer to the right side of the cart and called to Lovariel.
"Lovariel. I was remiss in not remarking upon your abilities last evening. You moved through the forest as the autumn wind. Unseen, but forceful. And you are clearly an artist with the bow. The oxen heed you call as if you were their own mother. The Company is fortunate, indeed, to count you a member."
Yes, he thought, a Captain must see his crew's successes and praise them in the same measure as he would admonish their mistakes.
"As a child I was afraid of the dark, so my friend tried to teach me the spell Dancing Lights, but I never learned to do it well enough. The most I could ever do was this little ball of light, but I was able to keep it up for longer periods of time. It started to be like our little pet, so we decided we should name it. He said the word Flow as a joke, so it always stuck."
Pardo nods thoughtfully. "I have always considered punning the highest form of humor."
At the mention of the artistry with the bow by Pardo. Loraviel stiffens slightly. With the hood of her black cloak down, one can see that the dark skin of her cheeks turn slightly pink. She cocks her head slightly to the side, and with her left hand brings some of her black hair behind her shoulder, above her ear. She switches the saddle to her left hand and slowly with her right hand she grabs something under her cloak. One would think by now that her cloak seems like a bag of holding, one can't never tell what's under it.
Loraviel, shyly brings out a sling from under her cloak, and shows it to Pardo and her companions. "This is what I use if I need to hit a target from afar." She says with a little bit of shame. "My parents believe that ranged weapons are for cowards. They like to be "in your face" as my father always like to put it. It took me a year to convince him to allow me to get myself a ranged weapon. He told me that I would have to fashion it myself. So I made this..." The sling looks like it has been made by a child, it looks functional, but it is a very crude weapon. "Well... At the very least I got a chuckle out of my parents when they saw the finished product."
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks
Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story
Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
Pardo responds uncharacteristically simply, lacking the florid flourishes and pomp of his usual compliments.
"I once met a warrior who claimed he could fell Hill or Frost Giants with such a weapon. He taught me that the wise warrior fears no weapon; only the skill of the hand that wields it. "
When the company stops for their midday rest. Loraviel sits next to Kilxus. "I am really sorry about your family. Just the thought of losing my family breaks my heart, so I cannot imagine the pain that you feel. I hope that one day we may aid you in avenging your family. I am sure this "balor" is no match for this group of friends." Loraviel clearly has no idea what a balor is, nor has she seen any extra planar being in her life for that matter. She pats Kilxus on his back. "I am looking forward to that day my friend. I will do my best to make sure that the last thing that monster sees is your sickle ending its despicable existence.
Loraviel gets up and starts to walk around the area looking for pebbles. She tries to pick some nice rounded ones, and put them in her pocket. Now that her "shameful secret" is out, she needs to get ammunition.
(OCC: I am just moving things along a little bit here)
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks
Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story
Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
Kilxus watches as Loraviel walks away, looking for stones. He smiles and appreciates her comradeship but womders if she actually knows what a balor is. He shrugged and waits for the journey to begin again.
After a light lunch, march is resumed. Those of you who know the High Road, know that you have been lucky. Either that or your god is looking after you. After an uneventful afternoon, you decide to call it a day.
You should make it to Phandalin by noon tomorrow. No need to push the oxen, after all Gundren never mentioned a deadline. Life is good in the High Road.
As you are setting up the camp for the night, a peddler stops next to you and speaks up:
"Hi good folks. Can an old man traveling alone take advantage of your camp tonight?"
He wears common clothing and sports a long white beard. He is bald and rather small for a human, even for an old one. Probably his hunchback doesn't help. A walking stick and a small bag comprise his equipment.
"Name is Tibard. My daughter waits for me in Neverwinter. If you are so kind as to have me stay with you tonight, I will make sure you have a proper roof above your head next time you visit the city. What say you?"
Kilxus looks the peddler up and down inspecting him ( 13 perception)
Pardo considered the question.
"Gentle fellow, you must consider that you are stranger to us."
"But were we not all strangers to one another just two nights ago?"
"Still, this is dangerous country, and we cannot afford to protect one who cannot protect himself."
"But then would we not be consigning you to a violent fate?"
"Do we dare dishonor, merry Morthammor Duin, God of Wanderers?"
"But do we not also have a responsibility to Helm, God of Protectors, to ensure the safe delivery of this cargo?"
Pardo paused dramatically.
"As 'Captain' of this Company I have decided that ..."
[OOC] In case it isn't obvious, I'm roleplaying this as Pardo getting too big for his britches. Please feel free to challenge him.
Tibard looks like a regular old man. Interestingly enough, his shoes look rather clean.
Surge is amused as Pardo declares himself Captain, even if only half heartedly. "Let him stay, it's the right thing to do and it's a generous offer in return." The genasi jumps down off of the wagon where he had been fetching his cask of water and sticks out a slightly wet hand. "They call me Priest."
Surge privately tries to size the man up and measure the truth in his words. Insight: 25
If given the chance to do so safely and privately, perhaps while fetching water or doing some other task, Surge whispers to Pardo "keep your friends close, and potentially enemies...well, you know." "He'll be nearby either way now that it's dark, so I'd rather have eyes on him, ideally more than two of them."
A short bit later Surge says casually "so, two per watch once again tonight? I'm happy to join the first while the fire's still strong." He hopes his new friends catch on, and wants to size Tibard up a bit more before letting his guard down to sleep.
"Hello Tibard, it is a pleasure to meet you" With his right hand, Ebb will go to take Tibar's hand, as he does so he'll brush it by the man's beard(making sure he's not doing a Disguise Self spell or anything). With his left he will pat Tibard on the shoulder. (Perception 5)
Upon request to camp with us. "Well, hello there good sir!! But of cour...." Loraviel is interrupted by Pardo. She is utterly confused by his speech. Things about gods that she never heard of. She looks at Pardo to try to understand if he is jesting or if he truly means what he is saying. (Perception on Pardo: 18)
(OCC: I would like to know who adjudicates that check :-)
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks
Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story
Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."