"A dream as well." Nasaar says, but keeps silent on the details of the dream. "It did say this would be something interesting, and it appears it should be quite interesting indeed, going by the motley group of us assembled here..."
At the appearance of the strange man, Nasaar shrugs and moves to the table. He leaves the larger seats, and the smallest one, alone, and takes one of the others, not at the head of the table. He waits patiently for the man to get to the reason for this meeting, use to having patience with his long days of building ships.
Gathrik gives out a scoffed chuckle, taking the smaller seat. He keeps his hand on the handle of the blade, and tries to glimpse the robed man’s face. Before doing that he carefully listens to the minotaurs’ conversation and looks over the one with the big sword. ”D’you happen to have a bounty on your horns, pal?”, Gathrik asks curiously, trying to remember if he came across a job of hunting some cows.
"No I was sent since the human thought of me as to much of a threat to keep around. I simply showed what happens when someone calls me or my mother dumb cows..." Yarvem says as he shrugs it off, having not cared much for it since it had allowed him to learn useful skills in the monastery. He moves to take one of the larger seats when the stranger shows up.
"Be has no bounty on him that you would collect from. He is due to be killed for overstepping his bounds." Yarvem says to the strange goblin, his attention to the human looking figure. "You are the one that sent the dream?"
"And life isn't worth living if one doesn't step over the line now and then, just to see how it looks from the other side."
Jardor moves to sit in the other seat, finding his greatsword prevents him from sitting comfortably he unsheathes it and stabs it into the ground next to his chair. The blade sinks a good two feet, coming to rest just below his shoulder on his left. One could imagine from there he could grab it in his right hand and be in an aggressive stance in a moment.
"I gather by the trick of making this parlor you are the host that has invited us all here to gather. By what name shall we address you?"
As he speaks to the grey cloaked figure, he subtly pushes the bark tray offering towards the middle line of the long table, knowing better than to eat food from someone that has not yet pronounced them self ally.
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Serit moves over to the table looking towards the group, "Ohh, so much anger and rage. So scary, so fierce." He sits but keeps an eye on the two minotaurs, he knows he is playing with fire by mocking them. He looks longingly at the plate of food, regardless if it is just berries. He ate just before arriving but a growing bugbear needs it's intake.
"I want to know about the job. Could use some more trophies."
The though no individual part of the man's face is wrong, overall it looks... not quite right. A good comparision might be a picture tavern sign, after decades of weather have sucked colors out the once bright paint, smudged parts of the picture, and completely erased others. Years later a young apprentice has gone with a fresh coat of paint trying to restore the picture, but it's not the same as it was.
"I gather by the trick of making this parlor you are the host that has invited us all here to gather. By what name shall we address you?"
As he speaks to the grey cloaked figure, he subtly pushes the bark tray offering towards the middle line of the long table, knowing better than to eat food from someone that has not yet pronounced them self ally.
He looks longingly at the plate of food, regardless if it is just berries. He ate just before arriving but a growing bugbear needs it's intake.
"I want to know about the job. Could use some more trophies."
The man speaks to all of you. His voice is is calm, strong and somewhat coarse, sounding like the creaking of a great tree under a strong wind.
"Yes, I gathered you here with my messages". He pauses, before continuing. "It is good that you have all arrived without injuries. It seems you have potential to be of help. Oh, do feel free to eat, it's all good food from the forest."
He ponders for a while when asked for his name. "A name?.. Ah yes, names... It has been so long... You can just call me Old Bear. I think it's a good name for me now."
He then turns the be bugbear.
"Now, you are asking the job. Let me ask you, all of you, first. What do you think of the situation here, both during your journey and in the last few years? What do you think would happen to this land in the future? What would happen to you in the future?"
Gathrik scofflaws and snorts, picking up a berry and throwing it in his toothy mouth. “Seems like everything is going to shit. More hunting for me to do.”, he grins at the man exposing his spiky teeth.
"Everyday these lands are becoming harder and harder to survive. The area stinks of fear and violence, not altogether a bad smell but disastrous for our breeds," Serit says as he reaches and stuffs his mouth sloppily with the items on the table.
Nasaar nods his head as he considers, but stays silent. He waits to see what others say in response, wanting to hear their thoughts on the matter before he voices his own.
"The ways of life my people hav outside of the few stray tribes that managed to flee to the wilds will slowly be made civilized. As for myself I will still be making a name for myself in the few fighting pits that are left. If not then I will see if all the nonsense the monks taught about self mastery is actually true." Yarvem muses with a shrug as he opens up his pack and pulls out some dried meat.
"Civilization..." the sneer in his voice is evident for all to hear. "Those scrawny hairless humans and their friends think they have a lock on being civilized. Who says their way of life is civilized? Living all packed in close in their cities. Passing germs from one to the other. Hiding in their structures from anything that is natural."
His left hand reaches for the hilt of his sword, leather in the grip creaking in protest as his hand twists, squeezing and relaxing on the hilt like a madman's worry stone.
"All of their advancement and technology and civilization ,"each word is effectively spat from his mouth like a curse, "will be scattered by the forces of the wild. The humans will find that places like this are aptly named. The pass nearby can grind more than just rocks. If they have no respect for the natural order then the natural order will make them its meal. And I will gladly do what I can to help it along."
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
"Good, good..." he mutters, " you have different opinions but this is good, it help you see the truth more easily".
He pauses,
"But it's too early. You have potential, but you are too weak right now... Anyway, you seem seem to be not very hungry, so I guess I could tell you what you could do for me", he then looks at Yarvem "or is the food not to your liking?"
Gathrik takes couple of handfuls of berries and fills one of his pouches with them, as he addresses the white minotaur, “You may make a good hunting partner with that attitude.”
"I was made to eat nearly only vegetables and fruit for several years so I prefer to eat meat with most of my meals." Yarvem answers as he grabs a few of the berries once he finishes with his dried meat, his eyes trained on the strange man.
"I was made to eat nearly only vegetables and fruit for several years so I prefer to eat meat with most of my meals." Yarvem answers as he grabs a few of the berries once he finishes with his dried meat, his eyes trained on the strange man.
Old bear seems confused,
"There's good meat right here, is there not?" He points at the deer herd barely 20 feet from the table. "Except the stag who leads the herd, so he must live. I thought you were just not interested, since you never even looked at them. "
Gara carefully examines the table and the chairs and. At one point takes a small scissor to clip a few leaves of the table.
He seams completely ignorant of everyone else around , untill he suddenly starts to talk.
“The bald apes, you call humans, they breed like rabbids. They displace and assimilate all the other races. Those who fight back are pushed into smaller and hostile environments, where they start to fight each other over scarce resources. But give it another two or three centuries and even those remote corners will be settled and civiliesed by the human race.“
Gara sits on one of the more sturdy chairs and starts eating the berries, while putting the nuts and seeds into a small pouch on his belt.
“But this is just my opinion, it doesn‘t explain why you summoned us all here.“
"I do not have the necessary tool to skin and dress the animal." Yarvem says as he reaches for his strange spear, seeming to consider if he wants to catch the deer for later consumption. He slowly gets up and moves to look at the others sitting to see if any of them were interested in the deer.
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"A dream as well." Nasaar says, but keeps silent on the details of the dream. "It did say this would be something interesting, and it appears it should be quite interesting indeed, going by the motley group of us assembled here..."
At the appearance of the strange man, Nasaar shrugs and moves to the table. He leaves the larger seats, and the smallest one, alone, and takes one of the others, not at the head of the table. He waits patiently for the man to get to the reason for this meeting, use to having patience with his long days of building ships.
Gathrik gives out a scoffed chuckle, taking the smaller seat. He keeps his hand on the handle of the blade, and tries to glimpse the robed man’s face. Before doing that he carefully listens to the minotaurs’ conversation and looks over the one with the big sword. ”D’you happen to have a bounty on your horns, pal?”, Gathrik asks curiously, trying to remember if he came across a job of hunting some cows.
"No I was sent since the human thought of me as to much of a threat to keep around. I simply showed what happens when someone calls me or my mother dumb cows..." Yarvem says as he shrugs it off, having not cared much for it since it had allowed him to learn useful skills in the monastery. He moves to take one of the larger seats when the stranger shows up.
"Be has no bounty on him that you would collect from. He is due to be killed for overstepping his bounds." Yarvem says to the strange goblin, his attention to the human looking figure. "You are the one that sent the dream?"
Perception: 7
"And life isn't worth living if one doesn't step over the line now and then, just to see how it looks from the other side."
Jardor moves to sit in the other seat, finding his greatsword prevents him from sitting comfortably he unsheathes it and stabs it into the ground next to his chair. The blade sinks a good two feet, coming to rest just below his shoulder on his left. One could imagine from there he could grab it in his right hand and be in an aggressive stance in a moment.
"I gather by the trick of making this parlor you are the host that has invited us all here to gather. By what name shall we address you?"
As he speaks to the grey cloaked figure, he subtly pushes the bark tray offering towards the middle line of the long table, knowing better than to eat food from someone that has not yet pronounced them self ally.
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Perception: 13
Serit moves over to the table looking towards the group, "Ohh, so much anger and rage. So scary, so fierce." He sits but keeps an eye on the two minotaurs, he knows he is playing with fire by mocking them. He looks longingly at the plate of food, regardless if it is just berries. He ate just before arriving but a growing bugbear needs it's intake.
"I want to know about the job. Could use some more trophies."
You are not able to perceive anything specific about the man.
The though no individual part of the man's face is wrong, overall it looks... not quite right. A good comparision might be a picture tavern sign, after decades of weather have sucked colors out the once bright paint, smudged parts of the picture, and completely erased others. Years later a young apprentice has gone with a fresh coat of paint trying to restore the picture, but it's not the same as it was.
The man speaks to all of you. His voice is is calm, strong and somewhat coarse, sounding like the creaking of a great tree under a strong wind.
"Yes, I gathered you here with my messages". He pauses, before continuing. "It is good that you have all arrived without injuries. It seems you have potential to be of help. Oh, do feel free to eat, it's all good food from the forest."
He ponders for a while when asked for his name. "A name?.. Ah yes, names... It has been so long... You can just call me Old Bear. I think it's a good name for me now."
He then turns the be bugbear.
"Now, you are asking the job. Let me ask you, all of you, first. What do you think of the situation here, both during your journey and in the last few years? What do you think would happen to this land in the future? What would happen to you in the future?"
Gathrik scofflaws and snorts, picking up a berry and throwing it in his toothy mouth. “Seems like everything is going to shit. More hunting for me to do.”, he grins at the man exposing his spiky teeth.
"Everyday these lands are becoming harder and harder to survive. The area stinks of fear and violence, not altogether a bad smell but disastrous for our breeds," Serit says as he reaches and stuffs his mouth sloppily with the items on the table.
Nasaar nods his head as he considers, but stays silent. He waits to see what others say in response, wanting to hear their thoughts on the matter before he voices his own.
"The ways of life my people hav outside of the few stray tribes that managed to flee to the wilds will slowly be made civilized. As for myself I will still be making a name for myself in the few fighting pits that are left. If not then I will see if all the nonsense the monks taught about self mastery is actually true." Yarvem muses with a shrug as he opens up his pack and pulls out some dried meat.
"Civilization..." the sneer in his voice is evident for all to hear. "Those scrawny hairless humans and their friends think they have a lock on being civilized. Who says their way of life is civilized? Living all packed in close in their cities. Passing germs from one to the other. Hiding in their structures from anything that is natural."
His left hand reaches for the hilt of his sword, leather in the grip creaking in protest as his hand twists, squeezing and relaxing on the hilt like a madman's worry stone.
"All of their advancement and technology and civilization ," each word is effectively spat from his mouth like a curse, "will be scattered by the forces of the wild. The humans will find that places like this are aptly named. The pass nearby can grind more than just rocks. If they have no respect for the natural order then the natural order will make them its meal. And I will gladly do what I can to help it along."
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Old Bear nods as he hears your opinions.
"Good, good..." he mutters, " you have different opinions but this is good, it help you see the truth more easily".
He pauses,
"But it's too early. You have potential, but you are too weak right now... Anyway, you seem seem to be not very hungry, so I guess I could tell you what you could do for me", he then looks at Yarvem "or is the food not to your liking?"
Gathrik takes couple of handfuls of berries and fills one of his pouches with them, as he addresses the white minotaur, “You may make a good hunting partner with that attitude.”
Serit speaks up, "If he is not hungry, I will have his share!" He continues to eat what is in front of him.
"I was made to eat nearly only vegetables and fruit for several years so I prefer to eat meat with most of my meals." Yarvem answers as he grabs a few of the berries once he finishes with his dried meat, his eyes trained on the strange man.
Old bear seems confused,
"There's good meat right here, is there not?" He points at the deer herd barely 20 feet from the table. "Except the stag who leads the herd, so he must live. I thought you were just not interested, since you never even looked at them. "
Gara carefully examines the table and the chairs and. At one point takes a small scissor to clip a few leaves of the table.
He seams completely ignorant of everyone else around , untill he suddenly starts to talk.
“The bald apes, you call humans, they breed like rabbids. They displace and assimilate all the other races. Those who fight back are pushed into smaller and hostile environments, where they start to fight each other over scarce resources. But give it another two or three centuries and even those remote corners will be settled and civiliesed by the human race.“
Gara sits on one of the more sturdy chairs and starts eating the berries, while putting the nuts and seeds into a small pouch on his belt.
“But this is just my opinion, it doesn‘t explain why you summoned us all here.“
"I do not have the necessary tool to skin and dress the animal." Yarvem says as he reaches for his strange spear, seeming to consider if he wants to catch the deer for later consumption. He slowly gets up and moves to look at the others sitting to see if any of them were interested in the deer.