Taking another sip of mead, the bespectacled man leans back, apparently having finally made himself comfortable, "Pardon, I didn't catch the girl on the way in, or I'd have checked. Place seems rather busier than usual, I'm sure she's otherwise occupied. How do you do this night, Master Brightblade? It's rare indeed that our lines of work intersect, all the rarer that they do so for such an... esteemed individual as Volothamp."
The Human, Brightblade apparently, pauses mid sip of wine to stare intently at the speaker before breaking into a large grin and a heartfelt laugh. "Your point, good sir!" Setting down his glass, the man continues, "And I'm afraid I must cede another point to you, for I am at a loss to put a name with your face. I hope we haven't already been introduced - I would hate to think my memory might be failing so early in life." Jauntily extending a hand to shake, he states in a somewhat formal though still friendly manner, "Falshen Brightblade, at your service."
"Nothing of the sort," the man says, smiling and shaking Falshen's hand, "But I never forget a face, and it pays well to know who is, and who isn't a member of a noble house. My business partners call me Mr. Horza, but my friends call me Gregor. You may choose whichever you prefer, my lord."
Still clasping hands, Falshen adds, "And mine call me Falshen, Gregor. Pleased to meet you." Releasing Gregor's hand, he turns his gaze upon the rest of the assembled party. "And with whom do we have the honor of sharing a table while we await our auspicious host?"
Clearing his throat the paladin introduces himself, "My name is Irma, Irma Gerd." "If the hammer and armor didn't give it away I am a paladin, ready to lend my hammer to any in need or," with a twinkle in his eye. "the right amount of gold." He relaxes in his chair and gazes around the room.
Seeing this round of exchanges, the blue skinned fellow says, “My name is Ian and I find you all well met. But if we are to wait then we might as well drink some more in good company.” Ian scans the room and calls out for the bar maid. As the barmaid approaches he says, “Let me see what I can do with a smile and a word or two.”
Ian appraising Bonnie says with a smile, "Tales grow tall of a fire-kissed lass in the Yawning Portal. However, the tales did not say that the lovely Sune would be hosting us. The gentlemen would love a new round of drinks. But sadly, I have a thirst that cannot be quenched. Lest you perchance know of a tonic for my condition." Ian, with hunger in his eyes, puts on his best smile.
Ian appraising Bonnie says with a smile, "Tales grow tall of a fire-kissed lass in the Yawning Portal. However, the tales did not say that the lovely Sune would be hosting us. The gentlemen would love a new round of drinks. But sadly, I have a thirst that cannot be quenched. Lest you perchance know of a tonic for my condition." Ian, with hunger in his eyes, puts on his best smile.
Bonnie blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear and glancing away, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“That’s - ehm - I’m sorry to hear about your condition, sir. It sounds quite painful. I can refill your cup, but if it’s medicine you’re after, I’d advise you bring your coin to the Guild of Apothecaries and Physicians. Perhaps they have a - uh - salve, or somewhat, that can relieve your...difficulty.”
She coughs daintily and looks around the table, one eyebrow raised.
“And will you all be wanting more of the same, then?”
With a smile and a slight shake of his head, Falshen declines. "No, but thank you all the same. However, if you happen to keep master Volothamp Geddarm on tap, we would all appreciate a man-sized order. I don't suppose you've seen him about this evening, perchance?"
With a smile and a slight shake of his head, Falshen declines. "No, but thank you all the same. However, if you happen to keep master Volothamp Geddarm on tap, we would all appreciate a man-sized order. I don't suppose you've seen him about this evening, perchance?"
She chuckles, and shakes her head.
"I'm afraid not, m'lord. But this is his usual place, right enough. You shouldn't be waiting much - "
“Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?”
The hoarse shout from a nearby table makes the barmaid start in alarm and spin round.
A seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl.
With a look of bemusement, Falshen takes a slightly firmer grip on his wine glass while absently scratching at his shin. He appears otherwise unconcerned.
Gregor grabs a bite of quipper and chews thoughtfully as he points towards the brawl. After a few moments, he finishes the bite and swallows. Finally able to speak, he asks, "Anyone feel like a bit of a show before business begins?"
Moments after Ian disappears into the hubbub, the rest of you hear a horrible shriek, the crowd gasps collectively and gives back, and a voice shouts "The half-*****'s murdered Krentz! Get her, boys!"
Chugging down his drink and finishing with a burp. Irma sets down his mug with a thud, grabs his hammer and bounds up and over the crowd to land in the center between the half-orc and the unfortunate human. Irma proclaims to the crowd "Let's all take a step back, it would be an inconvenience to us all if the town watch comes running"
The four remaining humans glare wild-eyed at Irma, at the half-orc behind him, and at their comrade's bloodied corpse at their feet. They hesitate, but do not back down.
"Outta the way, ya overgrown sharpjaw!" snaps the largest and drunkest of the hooligans. "We're gonna break that Zhent slut in half!"
"I don't need your help, chum," the half-orc growls behind the paladin. "Go back to putting beer in your gut, leave the fighting to those as knows what they're doing."
She cracks her knuckles and spits, but does not strike another blow - yet.
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Taking another sip of mead, the bespectacled man leans back, apparently having finally made himself comfortable, "Pardon, I didn't catch the girl on the way in, or I'd have checked. Place seems rather busier than usual, I'm sure she's otherwise occupied. How do you do this night, Master Brightblade? It's rare indeed that our lines of work intersect, all the rarer that they do so for such an... esteemed individual as Volothamp."
The Human, Brightblade apparently, pauses mid sip of wine to stare intently at the speaker before breaking into a large grin and a heartfelt laugh. "Your point, good sir!" Setting down his glass, the man continues, "And I'm afraid I must cede another point to you, for I am at a loss to put a name with your face. I hope we haven't already been introduced - I would hate to think my memory might be failing so early in life." Jauntily extending a hand to shake, he states in a somewhat formal though still friendly manner, "Falshen Brightblade, at your service."
"Nothing of the sort," the man says, smiling and shaking Falshen's hand, "But I never forget a face, and it pays well to know who is, and who isn't a member of a noble house. My business partners call me Mr. Horza, but my friends call me Gregor. You may choose whichever you prefer, my lord."
Still clasping hands, Falshen adds, "And mine call me Falshen, Gregor. Pleased to meet you." Releasing Gregor's hand, he turns his gaze upon the rest of the assembled party. "And with whom do we have the honor of sharing a table while we await our auspicious host?"
Clearing his throat the paladin introduces himself, "My name is Irma, Irma Gerd." "If the hammer and armor didn't give it away I am a paladin, ready to lend my hammer to any in need or," with a twinkle in his eye. "the right amount of gold." He relaxes in his chair and gazes around the room.
Seeing this round of exchanges, the blue skinned fellow says, “My name is Ian and I find you all well met. But if we are to wait then we might as well drink some more in good company.” Ian scans the room and calls out for the bar maid. As the barmaid approaches he says, “Let me see what I can do with a smile and a word or two.”
Wiping her hands on her apron and smiling tiredly, Bonnie approaches the table.
"And what can I do for you gentlemen?"
Ian may reply.
Ian appraising Bonnie says with a smile, "Tales grow tall of a fire-kissed lass in the Yawning Portal. However, the tales did not say that the lovely Sune would be hosting us. The gentlemen would love a new round of drinks. But sadly, I have a thirst that cannot be quenched. Lest you perchance know of a tonic for my condition." Ian, with hunger in his eyes, puts on his best smile.
Please make a Persuasion (+7) roll.
22
Bonnie blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear and glancing away, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“That’s - ehm - I’m sorry to hear about your condition, sir. It sounds quite painful. I can refill your cup, but if it’s medicine you’re after, I’d advise you bring your coin to the Guild of Apothecaries and Physicians. Perhaps they have a - uh - salve, or somewhat, that can relieve your...difficulty.”
She coughs daintily and looks around the table, one eyebrow raised.
“And will you all be wanting more of the same, then?”
Anybody except Ian may respond.
With a smile and a slight shake of his head, Falshen declines. "No, but thank you all the same. However, if you happen to keep master Volothamp Geddarm on tap, we would all appreciate a man-sized order. I don't suppose you've seen him about this evening, perchance?"
She chuckles, and shakes her head.
"I'm afraid not, m'lord. But this is his usual place, right enough. You shouldn't be waiting much - "
“Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?”
The hoarse shout from a nearby table makes the barmaid start in alarm and spin round.
A seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl.
Initiative...
Akai: 8
Falshen: 7
Gregor: 9
Ian: 14
Irma: 14
With a look of bemusement, Falshen takes a slightly firmer grip on his wine glass while absently scratching at his shin. He appears otherwise unconcerned.
Gregor grabs a bite of quipper and chews thoughtfully as he points towards the brawl. After a few moments, he finishes the bite and swallows. Finally able to speak, he asks, "Anyone feel like a bit of a show before business begins?"
Akai snorts in derision.
"Keh! Drunken fools, not worth Akai's attention. Let them fight 'mongst themselves, we have bigger plans!"
He keeps a wary eye on the commotion, but he's not about to get involved unless it's necessary.
Ian exclaims, “Oh, a fight!” and jumps up and pushes to the crowd surrounding the combatants.
Moments after Ian disappears into the hubbub, the rest of you hear a horrible shriek, the crowd gasps collectively and gives back, and a voice shouts "The half-*****'s murdered Krentz! Get her, boys!"
Chugging down his drink and finishing with a burp. Irma sets down his mug with a thud, grabs his hammer and bounds up and over the crowd to land in the center between the half-orc and the unfortunate human. Irma proclaims to the crowd "Let's all take a step back, it would be an inconvenience to us all if the town watch comes running"
The four remaining humans glare wild-eyed at Irma, at the half-orc behind him, and at their comrade's bloodied corpse at their feet. They hesitate, but do not back down.
"Outta the way, ya overgrown sharpjaw!" snaps the largest and drunkest of the hooligans. "We're gonna break that Zhent slut in half!"
"I don't need your help, chum," the half-orc growls behind the paladin. "Go back to putting beer in your gut, leave the fighting to those as knows what they're doing."
She cracks her knuckles and spits, but does not strike another blow - yet.