As the dragonborn and firbolg look at him, the human flinches slightly, but then stands up straight and gives a small, quick bow.
"My name is Barric Torvan. It is a pleasure."
He points out the door after the two elves.
"I do not mean to intrude, but I overheard discussion of looking for work. I came here hoping to earn some coin and would be glad to lend my aid if you would have me".
He looks at the armor of the dragonborn and glances the great axe on the shoulder of the firbolg.
" I do not have elf magic, nor divine favor, nor the strength of an ox, but I know how to wield a blade and am a decent shot with a bow."
He speaks with a slight drawl, marking him as perhaps a country man, although he takes great care to enunciate his words, and the way he holds himself speaks of discipline. He winces as he realizes that he might have caused offense to the firbolg.
"Please excuse my lack of tact. Where I hail from there are few other kinds of folk and I am afraid I do not know the customs here very well."
"Do not apologize for your roots. The gods care only for your actions. And while Bahamut prefers his children, he has place in his heart for others who champion the forces of good. Your aid would be appreciated, as well as your skill with a bow. With numbers, we should be able to overcome any foe"
He looks off to his right speaking to something no on can see, and says "Shush now, your banter is unnecessary."
The odd assortment of tavern patrons-turned-freelance hands for hire walk across the dusty path the cuts through the center of the small mining town. Spooked by the barkeep’s warnings of a dragon in the area, they stay on high-alert as the move past a small farmhouse and arrive at what they believe to be the Townmaster’s Hall, which has sturdy stone walls, a pitched wooden roof, and a bell tower at the back. A stoic bulletin board standing watch next to the front door features a sparse number of notices, all written in Common and in the same hand:
Tha'An(1)Tabesha'l, First Maiden of the ancient House of the Pananthyr, suppresses a sigh of weariness as she approaches the noticeboard along with this new-found crew of wandering hands-for-hire. Is this really what her life came down to ? - she reflected forlornly - ... Eking out a meager living by putting her life and others' on the line, like a vulgar soldier of fortune ?
Bitter-sweet memories of a youth spent in the great gardens of her forefathers' estate come rushing back to her, and only the stark discipline and emotional control of her elven nature allow her to hold back the tears that come bubbling up to her almond-shaped, azure eyes. Is this what she condemned herself to, now ? A life of begging for coin, a road of violence and adversity with only the faintest hope of ever attaining forgiveness as the pariah she had become and earning back a chance to be respected again, if not to become respectable ?
She would never be able to redeem herself in the Ar Cor O'Su 's eyes(2), of that much she was sure. The transgression, as small as it had been, had been judged and the punishment meted out to her, her reputation tarnished and her Name sullied. She had to come to terms with it, no point in bemoaning her fate like a frail thing. She still carried the blood of the Pananthyr and even though they wouldn't forgive her, she would show them - and herself - that her spirit would never be broken.
Shaking away her dark thoughts and steeling her resolve, the young wizard came closer to the board, staying a little ways behind the others but using the sharpness of sight inherent to her kind to decipher the various notes. She considered the constant mention of the dragon with a tinge of worry: truly this was no mere rumor, this beast was laying the surrounding land to waste ! She guessed that the gnome and the midwife quest could probably be handled by diplomacy, while the dwarven ruins were almost certain to bring a more potent challenge. She felt a faint shiver again, but this time it was a sensation of anticipation, the old familiar rush of adrenaline. She hadn't felt that for a long time, ever since her travels with him... was that why she hungered for a challenge, then ?... did she seek mortal danger to purge herself from the stain of his betrayal ?
She forced herself to push the memories of Duncan away to focus on the task at hand : she would wait until the group had discussed their options, and maybe then would she allow an opinion, if that was what they needed.
The blue wizard pulled her cloak tighter and observed the rest of the group in silence, one hand still clutching her dark cobalt staff. Her full red lips puckered in a reflective pout, while blue eyes flecked with gold gleamed softly beneath the shadow of her hood as she listened to the others.
- - - - -
(1) Tha'An: elvish for "Blue Hand", a denomination given to those who have earned their blue robes, symbol of the first grade of the Arcane Magistry.
(2) Ar Cor O'Suyr: the "great grandfathers", a council representing the will of the elders in every elven tribe and group. Noble elven families each have their own Ar Cor O'Su.
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV) " Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII) " Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr) " This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
Connak reads through the three notices on the board, keenly aware of the group doing the same over his shoulder. It doesn't take him long to declare, "The gnomes and the dwarves are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this midwife is alone. I will be fetching her before I do any of the others."
Barric walks behind the group to the postings, and glances at Tabesha'l as he passes by her when they arrive at the board. He had always been good at reading people, but does not know what to make of the quick storm of emotions on the face of the moon elf. Shrugging to himself, he reads over the postings. He nods his head at the other elf.
"I agree with Connak. She seems to be the one in the most danger and the windmill is only an hour or two away."
Brutus meanders over and stoops down to glance at the board quickly. After squinting his eyes and skimming the words of the before taking a step or two away and stretching. Scratching his head a bit as the rams skin slightly falls down over his eyes. “So uhh, just tell me where we are going.” Readjusting the headpiece he looks to the sky. “Spirits willing, the weather stays nice.”
Muttering under his breath, Connak mumbles to himself in elvish, "I meant I was going to take that task. The rest of you could take the others. Fine, if this dragon shows up, it'll prefer to take a bigger morsel."
Speaking loudly to everyone in common, "Want me to scout in front?"
" Connak is one who is keen of eye and light of foot. I would trust him to scout for us", the elf woman says to no-one in particular, and discreetly points her index finger at her compatriot.
Instantly, Connak hears Tabesha'l's voice in his head: " I shall be keeping our mind link active, so that you may rely what you see and hear, Thuniviel !"
As he prepares to make his way ahead, he realizes she used his childhood nickname.
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV) " Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII) " Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr) " This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
ELMER BARTHEN: “I see we have some new talent here in town,” a voice speaks from behind the group. They turn to find a small, balding human of about fifty years standing behind them, though no one is quite sure how long he has been standing there. “Before you go, maybe I could offer up some advice and information? Hmm?”
”The name’s Barthen, Elmer Barthen. Looks as though you might be about to set off on a little adventuring, eh? I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try to earn your business before you head out of town. I own the small general store on the north side of the town square here - we stock most ordinary goods and supplies, including backpacks, bedrolls, rope, and rations. If you need additional supplies before you head out, please stop by.”
”As for the rest of Phandalin, Linene Greywind keeps a modest assortment of armor and weaponry over at the Lionshield Coster, and Halia Thornton over at the Miner’s Exchange can assess, weigh and pay out anything of value you find along your travels. The exchange is a great place to meet people who spend a lot of time out and about in the countryside surrounding Phandalin. Sister Garaele is out of town for a while, so if you need healing potions, you’ll have to travel down to Umbridge Hill and talk to Adabra Gwynn...sounds like you might be heading her way now, if I heard you right. She’s been having problems with a manticore recently.”
“As for this dragon, we don’t know much about it, but we think it is a young white come down from further north. Likely pushed out by an older, more powerful rival. He’s plucked a few unlucky travelers so far...a barbarian tribe reported an attack a few weeks ago that claimed a few of theirs. They’ve moved on though by now. Not sure where he is making his home, but the longer he is allowed to stay there, the stronger he will surely get. Most concerning indeed!”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Barric nods at Elmer.
"We thank you for the information, Master Barthen. I am sure we will be needing your services in the future."
He glances to the rest of the group.
"A manticore? Truth be told, I do not know much about such beasts, but our silver friend speaks wisdom, together we are stronger. If none of us need further supplies, shall we be off? Perhaps if some of us knows more about this creature we can share our knowledge as we walk."
Barric will equip his longbow once we leave the safety of the town, and will be keeping an eye out for this 'Manticore' (He is not sure what kind of creature that is). If needed, perception 22.
" I have one day's worth of elven bread in my pack, but no more than this. And there may be other things our group requires."
The elf gives the commoner a polite bow.
" If Master Barthen has been so kind as to introduce himself, it may be wise to consider his offerings. Praytell, good citizen, is thy shop the one I see over this way, then ?"
She nods at a stone building on the north side of the square.
" And what of this midwife Adabra ? Would she be... inclined to come nearer the main settlement ? I fear there may be a reason as to why she chose to remain afar..."
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV) " Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII) " Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr) " This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
ELMER BARTHEN: “Head north as if ye meant to take the triboar trail out of town. My shop is the last large red building on the right. Ander and Thistle are there now, they can help you get what you need.”
TO TABESHA’L: ”The Gwynn woman is a stubborn one that’s for sure. She uses the windmill to grind the herbs she uses to make potions, so if she comes back to Phandalin, she’ll have no way to practice her craft or make a living. If you can at least bring proof that she is still alive, old Wester might still pay out the job.”
TO BARRIC: “Manticores are truly nasty indeed! Winged lions with the mouth of a shark and tails that shoot horrible spikes! They enjoy doing wickedness to others and love to watch them beg for mercy! They are not too bright, but can be negotiated with, and usually want to be compensated with mostly food but perhaps treasure in order to spare one’s life. I’m sure your a fine bunch of warriors but you will be hard-pressed to slay a manticore just now. Better plan on trying to talk him into leaving the midwife be.”
(OOC: Barthen’s Provisions sells all types of adventuring gear at the prices listed in the PHB with the exception of potions of healing.)
Barric's eyes widen at the description of the manticore, but he steels his resolve, unwilling to show his fear to the companions he just met.
"This beast does sound fearsome indeed. Master Barthen, do you know if anyone in Phandalin has goats or sheep they are willing to sell? If we must bribe this manticore to get the midwife to safety, I doubt trail rations will sate its hunger."
“Maybe a promise to use a horse to make a makeshift mill in town, we could bring a carriage to help transport the plants she uses too. It can be hard to leave those leafy friends behind..... or we could give the horse to the manticore.” Brutus will say with a shrug. Emptying his drink pouch with the big gulps, “I think I might buy another one of these, I get thirsty quickly.”
Brutus would purchase another water skin before leaving.
"Giving food to any animal will just convince it to come back for more. Lets talk to Adabra and see how this supposed manticore is bothering her."
Connak shoulders his backpack with his provisions, ready to head out. He strings his shortbow to have it at the ready, and moves ahead about 30 feet to act as scout. Primarily watching the sky and the surroundings for danger.
As the dragonborn and firbolg look at him, the human flinches slightly, but then stands up straight and gives a small, quick bow.
"My name is Barric Torvan. It is a pleasure."
He points out the door after the two elves.
"I do not mean to intrude, but I overheard discussion of looking for work. I came here hoping to earn some coin and would be glad to lend my aid if you would have me".
He looks at the armor of the dragonborn and glances the great axe on the shoulder of the firbolg.
" I do not have elf magic, nor divine favor, nor the strength of an ox, but I know how to wield a blade and am a decent shot with a bow."
He speaks with a slight drawl, marking him as perhaps a country man, although he takes great care to enunciate his words, and the way he holds himself speaks of discipline. He winces as he realizes that he might have caused offense to the firbolg.
"Please excuse my lack of tact. Where I hail from there are few other kinds of folk and I am afraid I do not know the customs here very well."
Vaxis smiles warmly at the human
"Do not apologize for your roots. The gods care only for your actions. And while Bahamut prefers his children, he has place in his heart for others who champion the forces of good. Your aid would be appreciated, as well as your skill with a bow. With numbers, we should be able to overcome any foe"
He looks off to his right speaking to something no on can see, and says "Shush now, your banter is unnecessary."
DM - Saturday and Tuesday: Eberron
Player - PBP: (Vaxis, Dragonborn Cleric of Bahamut, DoIP), Discord: Byron Bojengles III (Dragonmarked Half-Elf Rogue/Warlock Hexblade)
Other games: (Aardwolf MUD, Diablo 3, Starcraft 2, Pokemon, Borderlands {all})
The odd assortment of tavern patrons-turned-freelance hands for hire walk across the dusty path the cuts through the center of the small mining town. Spooked by the barkeep’s warnings of a dragon in the area, they stay on high-alert as the move past a small farmhouse and arrive at what they believe to be the Townmaster’s Hall, which has sturdy stone walls, a pitched wooden roof, and a bell tower at the back. A stoic bulletin board standing watch next to the front door features a sparse number of notices, all written in Common and in the same hand:
Tha'An(1) Tabesha'l, First Maiden of the ancient House of the Pananthyr, suppresses a sigh of weariness as she approaches the noticeboard along with this new-found crew of wandering hands-for-hire. Is this really what her life came down to ? - she reflected forlornly - ... Eking out a meager living by putting her life and others' on the line, like a vulgar soldier of fortune ?
Bitter-sweet memories of a youth spent in the great gardens of her forefathers' estate come rushing back to her, and only the stark discipline and emotional control of her elven nature allow her to hold back the tears that come bubbling up to her almond-shaped, azure eyes. Is this what she condemned herself to, now ? A life of begging for coin, a road of violence and adversity with only the faintest hope of ever attaining forgiveness as the pariah she had become and earning back a chance to be respected again, if not to become respectable ?
She would never be able to redeem herself in the Ar Cor O'Su 's eyes(2), of that much she was sure. The transgression, as small as it had been, had been judged and the punishment meted out to her, her reputation tarnished and her Name sullied. She had to come to terms with it, no point in bemoaning her fate like a frail thing. She still carried the blood of the Pananthyr and even though they wouldn't forgive her, she would show them - and herself - that her spirit would never be broken.
Shaking away her dark thoughts and steeling her resolve, the young wizard came closer to the board, staying a little ways behind the others but using the sharpness of sight inherent to her kind to decipher the various notes. She considered the constant mention of the dragon with a tinge of worry: truly this was no mere rumor, this beast was laying the surrounding land to waste ! She guessed that the gnome and the midwife quest could probably be handled by diplomacy, while the dwarven ruins were almost certain to bring a more potent challenge. She felt a faint shiver again, but this time it was a sensation of anticipation, the old familiar rush of adrenaline. She hadn't felt that for a long time, ever since her travels with him... was that why she hungered for a challenge, then ?... did she seek mortal danger to purge herself from the stain of his betrayal ?
She forced herself to push the memories of Duncan away to focus on the task at hand : she would wait until the group had discussed their options, and maybe then would she allow an opinion, if that was what they needed.
The blue wizard pulled her cloak tighter and observed the rest of the group in silence, one hand still clutching her dark cobalt staff. Her full red lips puckered in a reflective pout, while blue eyes flecked with gold gleamed softly beneath the shadow of her hood as she listened to the others.
- - - - -
(1) Tha'An: elvish for "Blue Hand", a denomination given to those who have earned their blue robes, symbol of the first grade of the Arcane Magistry.
(2) Ar Cor O'Suyr: the "great grandfathers", a council representing the will of the elders in every elven tribe and group. Noble elven families each have their own Ar Cor O'Su.
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV)
" Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII)
" Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr)
" This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
Connak reads through the three notices on the board, keenly aware of the group doing the same over his shoulder. It doesn't take him long to declare, "The gnomes and the dwarves are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this midwife is alone. I will be fetching her before I do any of the others."
Barric walks behind the group to the postings, and glances at Tabesha'l as he passes by her when they arrive at the board. He had always been good at reading people, but does not know what to make of the quick storm of emotions on the face of the moon elf. Shrugging to himself, he reads over the postings. He nods his head at the other elf.
"I agree with Connak. She seems to be the one in the most danger and the windmill is only an hour or two away."
Brutus meanders over and stoops down to glance at the board quickly. After squinting his eyes and skimming the words of the before taking a step or two away and stretching. Scratching his head a bit as the rams skin slightly falls down over his eyes. “So uhh, just tell me where we are going.” Readjusting the headpiece he looks to the sky. “Spirits willing, the weather stays nice.”
Vaxis looks to the others assembled.
"I have agreeance with the Connak. The midwife must have protection. Let us depart immediately"
He begins to head south, beckoning the others to follow.
DM - Saturday and Tuesday: Eberron
Player - PBP: (Vaxis, Dragonborn Cleric of Bahamut, DoIP), Discord: Byron Bojengles III (Dragonmarked Half-Elf Rogue/Warlock Hexblade)
Other games: (Aardwolf MUD, Diablo 3, Starcraft 2, Pokemon, Borderlands {all})
Muttering under his breath, Connak mumbles to himself in elvish, "I meant I was going to take that task. The rest of you could take the others. Fine, if this dragon shows up, it'll prefer to take a bigger morsel."
Speaking loudly to everyone in common, "Want me to scout in front?"
" Connak is one who is keen of eye and light of foot. I would trust him to scout for us", the elf woman says to no-one in particular, and discreetly points her index finger at her compatriot.
Instantly, Connak hears Tabesha'l's voice in his head: " I shall be keeping our mind link active, so that you may rely what you see and hear, Thuniviel !"
As he prepares to make his way ahead, he realizes she used his childhood nickname.
** (OOC) casting Message cantrip. **
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV)
" Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII)
" Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr)
" This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
Vaxis hears the mumble, and says “there is greater strength in numbers, friend. We will be advantaged by working with each other.”
DM - Saturday and Tuesday: Eberron
Player - PBP: (Vaxis, Dragonborn Cleric of Bahamut, DoIP), Discord: Byron Bojengles III (Dragonmarked Half-Elf Rogue/Warlock Hexblade)
Other games: (Aardwolf MUD, Diablo 3, Starcraft 2, Pokemon, Borderlands {all})
ELMER BARTHEN: “I see we have some new talent here in town,” a voice speaks from behind the group. They turn to find a small, balding human of about fifty years standing behind them, though no one is quite sure how long he has been standing there. “Before you go, maybe I could offer up some advice and information? Hmm?”
”The name’s Barthen, Elmer Barthen. Looks as though you might be about to set off on a little adventuring, eh? I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try to earn your business before you head out of town. I own the small general store on the north side of the town square here - we stock most ordinary goods and supplies, including backpacks, bedrolls, rope, and rations. If you need additional supplies before you head out, please stop by.”
”As for the rest of Phandalin, Linene Greywind keeps a modest assortment of armor and weaponry over at the Lionshield Coster, and Halia Thornton over at the Miner’s Exchange can assess, weigh and pay out anything of value you find along your travels. The exchange is a great place to meet people who spend a lot of time out and about in the countryside surrounding Phandalin. Sister Garaele is out of town for a while, so if you need healing potions, you’ll have to travel down to Umbridge Hill and talk to Adabra Gwynn...sounds like you might be heading her way now, if I heard you right. She’s been having problems with a manticore recently.”
“As for this dragon, we don’t know much about it, but we think it is a young white come down from further north. Likely pushed out by an older, more powerful rival. He’s plucked a few unlucky travelers so far...a barbarian tribe reported an attack a few weeks ago that claimed a few of theirs. They’ve moved on though by now. Not sure where he is making his home, but the longer he is allowed to stay there, the stronger he will surely get. Most concerning indeed!”
Barric nods at Elmer.
"We thank you for the information, Master Barthen. I am sure we will be needing your services in the future."
He glances to the rest of the group.
"A manticore? Truth be told, I do not know much about such beasts, but our silver friend speaks wisdom, together we are stronger. If none of us need further supplies, shall we be off? Perhaps if some of us knows more about this creature we can share our knowledge as we walk."
Barric will equip his longbow once we leave the safety of the town, and will be keeping an eye out for this 'Manticore' (He is not sure what kind of creature that is). If needed, perception 22.
**(OOC) Edited post for punctuation**
" I have one day's worth of elven bread in my pack, but no more than this. And there may be other things our group requires."
The elf gives the commoner a polite bow.
" If Master Barthen has been so kind as to introduce himself, it may be wise to consider his offerings. Praytell, good citizen, is thy shop the one I see over this way, then ?"
She nods at a stone building on the north side of the square.
" And what of this midwife Adabra ? Would she be... inclined to come nearer the main settlement ? I fear there may be a reason as to why she chose to remain afar..."
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV)
" Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII)
" Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr)
" This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
ELMER BARTHEN: “Head north as if ye meant to take the triboar trail out of town. My shop is the last large red building on the right. Ander and Thistle are there now, they can help you get what you need.”
TO TABESHA’L: ”The Gwynn woman is a stubborn one that’s for sure. She uses the windmill to grind the herbs she uses to make potions, so if she comes back to Phandalin, she’ll have no way to practice her craft or make a living. If you can at least bring proof that she is still alive, old Wester might still pay out the job.”
TO BARRIC: “Manticores are truly nasty indeed! Winged lions with the mouth of a shark and tails that shoot horrible spikes! They enjoy doing wickedness to others and love to watch them beg for mercy! They are not too bright, but can be negotiated with, and usually want to be compensated with mostly food but perhaps treasure in order to spare one’s life. I’m sure your a fine bunch of warriors but you will be hard-pressed to slay a manticore just now. Better plan on trying to talk him into leaving the midwife be.”
(OOC: Barthen’s Provisions sells all types of adventuring gear at the prices listed in the PHB with the exception of potions of healing.)
Barric's eyes widen at the description of the manticore, but he steels his resolve, unwilling to show his fear to the companions he just met.
"This beast does sound fearsome indeed. Master Barthen, do you know if anyone in Phandalin has goats or sheep they are willing to sell? If we must bribe this manticore to get the midwife to safety, I doubt trail rations will sate its hunger."
Vaxis snorts, and wisps of frost comes from his nostrils.
"Hmmph. This manty-core would do well to be running away. It will leave, or burn in Bahamut's benevo...benev...fury."
The more Vaxis talks, the more you get the idea he sometimes struggles with the Common language.
"I have feeling that if we don't move with quickness to this windmill, this midwife may be in peril."
DM - Saturday and Tuesday: Eberron
Player - PBP: (Vaxis, Dragonborn Cleric of Bahamut, DoIP), Discord: Byron Bojengles III (Dragonmarked Half-Elf Rogue/Warlock Hexblade)
Other games: (Aardwolf MUD, Diablo 3, Starcraft 2, Pokemon, Borderlands {all})
“Maybe a promise to use a horse to make a makeshift mill in town, we could bring a carriage to help transport the plants she uses too. It can be hard to leave those leafy friends behind..... or we could give the horse to the manticore.” Brutus will say with a shrug. Emptying his drink pouch with the big gulps, “I think I might buy another one of these, I get thirsty quickly.”
Brutus would purchase another water skin before leaving.
"Giving food to any animal will just convince it to come back for more. Lets talk to Adabra and see how this supposed manticore is bothering her."
Connak shoulders his backpack with his provisions, ready to head out. He strings his shortbow to have it at the ready, and moves ahead about 30 feet to act as scout. Primarily watching the sky and the surroundings for danger.
Vaxis looks, and follows relativity close to Connak, about 30 ft behind. He seems concerned for the elf.
DM - Saturday and Tuesday: Eberron
Player - PBP: (Vaxis, Dragonborn Cleric of Bahamut, DoIP), Discord: Byron Bojengles III (Dragonmarked Half-Elf Rogue/Warlock Hexblade)
Other games: (Aardwolf MUD, Diablo 3, Starcraft 2, Pokemon, Borderlands {all})