You are enjoying an ale and a meal after a long day of whatever nonsense you tend to get yourself into. You sit at a table in The Fallen Tower, the most popular tavern in Neverwinter. The hustle and bustle of the city never really dies down in the Jewel of the North...it just shifts to new activities and locales. Nightlife abounds and the slice you've been reveling in grows somewhat stale as the waiter is visibly eager to have you leave so he can reseat the table and make a few more gold on his shift. It's getting dark outside but no one feels like sleep. You're restless and enjoying catching up with the group so you discuss your options for the evening.
You’ve heard that a company of players are performing “Bellagar the Black Dragon” at the Silverlight Theatre. Someone mentions that the renowned bard, Cain Lethellon, is performing down near Bluelake. There's always The Rusty Dagger by the docks to keep drinking yourselves into oblivion...assuming everyone is up on their tetanus shots. And, of course, the famous Clockwork Carnival is open until late.
As you debate the merits of each choice (a lively and rambunctious, albeit friendly, argument), a well-groomed tabby cat leaps up onto the table and begins prowling back and forth, swishing his fine tail. As someone leans forward to scratch behind his ears, you see a note tied to his tail – it says “Follow Me”.
The tabby leaps down to the floor and slowly makes his way to do the door, occasionally turning back to look at your party.
“I tell you, The Rusty Dagger is not the place to go. Nothing good comes out of the docks, I mean, just look at me.” Hayle grins, happy to be the centre of attention. “And hey, I only have a few days before setting sail again. At least for a time, I want to get away from the sea. And Del, last time we were there I had to save you from more than one drunken marriage proposal.” Hayle elbowed the Yuan-ti as she said this.
Hayle looked around the group. They had known each other for some time and had been meeting whenever the tides brought them together in Neverwinter. There was something different about this group that kept her coming back. She almost looked forward to bumping into them again. They were such a mish-mash of characters, yet something she couldn’t quite put her hands on connected them. Perhaps it was the night they met.
"Yes, and I recall that I was as equally un-impressed at your inability to use my full name then as I still am Hayle. Of course, you can't fault their taste, I am the attractive one in our little coterie." Delanra glances at some of the other faces sat around the table, her face shows the faintest hint of her cheek muscles twitching at the exchange with the genasi. She gestures to her slim fitting, scathing cut dress, a few jewels and tasteful extravagances sewn into a deep green hued fabric. That green would match the tones of the mottled scales on her skin, one of the few parts of her skin that she usually tries to keep covered, were you able to compare the two. "Though I couldn't agree with you more that the Dagger is the last place I intend on frequenting this eve. I'll not risk some lout spilling their tankard over such fine fabric..."
As the cat jumps up onto the table, Delanra catches a glimpse at the note, and raises her eyebrow as the feline promptly saunters away, in the manner that cats are prone to do. Expecting it to be another jest by one of the people sitting there, Delanra summarily dismissed it and take a moment to reflect. The group were far from the normal people that Delanra would associate with, though Hayle was by far the most interesting amongst them, they had all been of use in Delanra's travels, and useful people were a commodity not to be so easily discarded.
"I hear there is a passable rendition of Bellagar the Black Dragon, showing at the Silverlight presently, at least there we would be in respectable company."
Halis blinked slowly. The tabby cat on the table blinked back. He reached out with his mind. He knew with his Mind Link that this cat would understand him. Whether it would respond or not... well, cats.
Were you sent by the dark? Are you hunting me? Do your agents seek my death, feline?
Halis waits for a response, but it's most likely that if a cat could scoff it would. It does the practical cat equivalent of a scoff anyway by prominently displaying the anatomy of its posterior with a well-timed tail lift before jumping off the table. He watches for a moment longer before a buzzing in his ears causes him to look back at the others.
Oh. They were doing that thing again where they moved their mouths. Talking. He was supposed to pay attention when they did that, at least, that was what Thokk always said; something about being polite. Moving his lips was so bothersome, though. What was it they were discussing now? Something about what to do with their evening? He does manage to zero in and focus on the most important thing in this conversation. Wetting his lips, he opens his mouth, his voice thin and soft from disuse.
"They asked to marry me first,"he says to Hayle and Delanra, when the latter professes her beauty as the reason for the altercation that brought at least him into this strange fold. "They thought I was a woman." He blinks again. "I was regretful about not being able to inform them of their misunderstanding before the smiting began." There's a long pause, and his eyes go glassy, as if reliving a memory. "...Regardless, I also would prefer to not frequent the Rusty Dagger. We should follow the cat instead. It has secrets. ... And a missive." He points at the sign.
As the cat leaps off the table, Syl remains slouched back against his wooden chair. "I've heard of chasing tail, but this is ridiculous!" He attempts, as he has a thousand times before, to cut through the seriousness and ambient tension of the group. They were a good bunch, he often thought to himself, but an odd grouping to be sure.
Syl brings his tankard up to his clean-shaven face, taking a generous swig as his blue eyes peer out from over the top. He puts it back down, wipes his top lip and shrugs. "Seems to me we can do most of these other things on just about any night. But following a strange cat around that probably hopped up on this table by coincidence, chasing it through alleys as it hisses at other cats and shows its butthole to every passerby? Don't know if we can afford to pass that up."
"You're valuation on the cat seems sorely inflated to me Syl... Chasing cats in an alley is hardly a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity, and in many places likely to lead to a 'last in a lifetime' experience." Delanra replied, clearly unenthused at the prospect of wandering the streets on the trail of a feline. "Though if Halis is so keen to pry into the secrets of who attached a note to teh tail of a cat, I can entertain myself by tagging along and seeing what trouble you get yourselves into."
"Ha," Hayle blurts out. "Yes just the type of evening I had imagined. Just think of the daring adventures, slinking across rooftops, evading marauding dogs, hunting backalleys for buried treasure, and finally finding the stinking, rotting fish carcass. A tale to tell for generations."As she said this, Hayle couldn't ignore the fact that the cat had brought a note with it, hardly common behavior for this type of animal."Still, I must agree with Del and Halis, there is something strange here...I can't believe I am saying this, but my vote is to follow the cat."
"It's the right thing to do,"Halis sighs. "Cruelty to cats will be repaid upon the sinner tenfold. Cats have a connection to dreams, you know. They have nine lives. And friends. Don't cross a cat, and don't mess with his tail. We should help it."
He pushes off from the table and begins to weave his way around the other patrons towards the cat, grabbing a bit of smoked meat from his pack as he does so and holding it up in the air.
Cat, oh cat,he calls out, the mind link with the beast still being upheld. I've tasty meat, if you will tell me... who put that sign on your tail? And would you like us to remove it for you, noble creature?
Halis is so distracted as he attempts to talk to the cat that he bumps armor-first into several tables, and a few serving wenches, as he moves along. He doesn't even seem to notice that he's getting in the way or spilling peoples' ale as he moves, and it looks like he might require a physical intervention sooner rather than later if you don't want him to dreamily drift into another barfight.
"Yay! Kitty talking!" Thokk turns his huge head to the group, wanting to confirm that they've seen this marvel, and entirely missing the fact that they don't seem quite as elated. It's not really clear if Thokk actually recognize the request but he's up and following the cat anyway. "Kitty, you talk more! Thokk want know where kitty learn to talk. Kitty go kitty school?"
While you continue to discuss the merits of following a strange cat around the city at night, he reaches the door, turns to look back and you'd swear his eyes roll as he heaves a sigh. Trotting back to your table, he nimbly leaps back up and rubs his tail under your noses while purring loudly before hopping down once more and making his way out again, this time with you all in tow.
The waiter quietly thanks whatever deity he's praying to today and begins to clean the table.
You follow the cat out into the brisk evening air; the hubbub of the city providing a discordant yet satisfying backdrop. Looking around, you just manage to catch a glimpse of a tail with a note tied to it slipping around the corner of the tavern. As you give chase, he leads you down one street then another. Through an alley and a deserted shopping district closed up for the night. As you twist and turn, you look around and realize he's leading you to the Beggar's Nest, the most destitute district in Neverwinter. The narrow streets and dirty alleyways seem to press in on you as you continue. Rubbish piles fill corners; shadowy individuals lurking in dark doorways watch as you jog past to keep pace with the cat.
The cat leads you down an especially filthy lane with garbage piled waist high on either side. A deep, stupid-sounding, gravely voice rumbles out. "Ya sh'd know better than t' bring yer friends down my alley, Gus...”
A large, dirty half-ogre emerges from a pile of refuse, grinning wickedly and dragging a large, chipped axe behind him. He hefts it onto his shoulder and looks down at you.
“Now, lil' people,” he slowly drawls, “we can do dis tha’ easy way or tha’ hard way,” and holds out his other huge hand expectantly.
Halis slows down and glares at each shadowy individual as they pass. Several of them startle, glare, or scramble away afterwards as he sends probing, unasked-for telepathic messages to complete strangers, all along the lines of:
"Are you the dark? For I am the light, here to purge you of your sins!"
"I know it's you. I've been waiting to meet you. Face your destiny if you dare, fool!"
"Try me, punk. Just try me. The shadows shall not prevail today!"
He stops with the constant barrage of telepathic harassment when the cat eventually leads the group to an actual threat. He blinks at the hand being offered to him, wrinkling his nose a little, and then sends another telepathic message, this one to the huge half-ogre before him.
"While I appreciate your candor, you should know this habit of reaching out to total strangers is an unhealthy method of promoting disease transmittance. If you're suffering under such a malady, you should simply ask for aid from the temples rather than demand it of total strangers."
Stepping back, he grabs Thokk and pushes his burly companion ahead. "I believe he wants to shake your hand,"he murmurs softly. "Put your best fist forward, my good man."
"Sorry, pal," Syl joins Thokk and Halis as they interact with the half-ogre. "I make it a practice not to give hand-outs to anyone that speaks in comic sans."
Syl leans forward to bow a polite greeting, bending one arm up over his mid-section and the other behind his back. As he does the latter, he slowly wraps his fingers around the hilt of his rapier, preparing for whatever might come. "But you are well met," he continues. "although I'm afraid there's no Gus among us."
Thokk, the large, clean half-ogre walks up to the pile-of-refuse half-ogre, grinning warmly and carrying a large, chipped ax on his back. He hefts one hand onto his shoulder as he looks down at the offered appendage, then, a look of recognition crossing his features, Thokk slaps his hand across the other half-ogre's. "High-five!"
Tailing along at the rear if the group as they make their way through the throwing, Delanra questions the sanity of her companion's actions. Humanity, though that term could barely be applied to the assortment of races in their little group, was still a mystery to her. A very intriguing mystery. Seeing the others change direction she assume the cat finally went down one of the aforementioned alleyways... So predictable.
As they pass through dirtier streets toward the more disparate area of the city, Del lifts her skirt a little, trying to avoid them hem from getting sullied on the refuse and who knows what that litters the walkways. "I seem to recall mention of both alleyways, and that I didn't care to have this outfit soiled tonight, and by the smell, there are worse liquids than ale round here..." She pauses as the half-ogre appears and extend his hand with a drab attempt at extortion.
Muttering to herself so only those closest can hear, she finishes"I also recall mentioning 'last in a lifetime experiences', but why would anyone want to listen to my perfectly sensible, and apparently accurate musings about where this was heading." As Thokk seems to be trying to make friends, Delanra shouts over. "Thokk, Halis may well be right, your friend doesn't smell too healthy, best let him.be on his way, and try not to half kill it, like that bugbear you thought was a giant stuffed teddy and gave an overly enthusiastic hug too!"
Hayle followed the others out of the bar. Walking along with Delanra, she chatted idly about the trip down the coast. As they followed the cat through the street, her steps picked up and she had a bit of bounce. Then the cat turned into the alley.
"Ya sh'd know better than t' bring yer friends down my alley, Gus...” As the half-ogre steps out, Hayle's hand drops down to her dagger and she watches carefully.
Gus? Was that the cat's name?
Halis had gone very quiet. He was probably trying to do his mind trick thing again. Doesn't he know that never works? Hayle thought. But she appreciated his next move of pushing Thokk forward. If there was anything Thokk was good at, it was being a shield between them and any potential danger. The high-five though took Hayle by surprise. Was thokk unaware of what the other half-ogre was trying to do?
"Thokk, Halis may well be right, your friend doesn't smell too healthy, best let him be on his way, and try not to half kill it, like that bugbear you thought was a giant stuffed teddy and gave an overly enthusiastic hug too!" Hayle worked hard to suppress a laugh as she thought about both the absurdity and likelihood of this scenario. She could just see Thokk pick up a Bugbear and hug him to death.
As all of this happened, Hayle considered her options. Best bet was that the half-ogre would simply be confused by Thokk's actions and they could keep walking, but in the event of things going sideways...Her minds eye started to reach deep into her soul, where the tentacles of an other-dimensional being writhed, waiting for her call.
Halis tries to keep from palming his forehead as Thokk gives the other half-ogre a high-five. He pulls himself up to his full height - all 5-foot-nine-inches of it, and frowns down, or rather, up, his nose as the two half-ogres, his eyes slowly glowing a brighter and brighter silver as he speaks. Directing a finger to the one currently claiming ownership of the the alley, he says slowly and clearly,
"This, good ser, is most certainly not your alley. For one, it is much too clean. For two, this alleyway is city property. I'm sure you haven't properly filed a claim to it with the city government. While we can appreciate the fact that the guard prefer to spend their time in cleanlier areas of the city, we can't ignore that they leave the case of citizen policing and arrests in the hands of indivudiuals such as ourselves. And while you may be but one, we are many. As you still have both of your hands, I trust that you can at least count on your fingers and realize this fact.
Besides, I do not like people who threaten cats. Now please step aside before this needs to get messy."
Intimidation: 21
(Hey, Thokk, can you give his hand a nice squeeze for advantage while we talk? -> 24)
(I'm guessing that roll was to convey that to Thokk wordlessly. I'll make an Insight check to see if he grasps what you're trying to get across. - 18 )
(It was more to see if they can match each other's squeezes. He's not swayed by words but a significant enough show of strength might help. Hot Shots! style)
You are enjoying an ale and a meal after a long day of whatever nonsense you tend to get yourself into. You sit at a table in The Fallen Tower, the most popular tavern in Neverwinter. The hustle and bustle of the city never really dies down in the Jewel of the North...it just shifts to new activities and locales. Nightlife abounds and the slice you've been reveling in grows somewhat stale as the waiter is visibly eager to have you leave so he can reseat the table and make a few more gold on his shift. It's getting dark outside but no one feels like sleep. You're restless and enjoying catching up with the group so you discuss your options for the evening.
You’ve heard that a company of players are performing “Bellagar the Black Dragon” at the Silverlight Theatre. Someone mentions that the renowned bard, Cain Lethellon, is performing down near Bluelake. There's always The Rusty Dagger by the docks to keep drinking yourselves into oblivion...assuming everyone is up on their tetanus shots. And, of course, the famous Clockwork Carnival is open until late.
As you debate the merits of each choice (a lively and rambunctious, albeit friendly, argument), a well-groomed tabby cat leaps up onto the table and begins prowling back and forth, swishing his fine tail. As someone leans forward to scratch behind his ears, you see a note tied to his tail – it says “Follow Me”.
The tabby leaps down to the floor and slowly makes his way to do the door, occasionally turning back to look at your party.
What do you do?
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Mis'tuv (Halfling Fathomless Warlock) - The Voyage of the Fallen Star
Meresaa (Vedalken Artillerist Artificer) - Destination Unknown
Hutton Crowcreek (Human Fighter) - Curse of the Crimson Throne
“I tell you, The Rusty Dagger is not the place to go. Nothing good comes out of the docks, I mean, just look at me.” Hayle grins, happy to be the centre of attention. “And hey, I only have a few days before setting sail again. At least for a time, I want to get away from the sea. And Del, last time we were there I had to save you from more than one drunken marriage proposal.” Hayle elbowed the Yuan-ti as she said this.
Hayle looked around the group. They had known each other for some time and had been meeting whenever the tides brought them together in Neverwinter. There was something different about this group that kept her coming back. She almost looked forward to bumping into them again. They were such a mish-mash of characters, yet something she couldn’t quite put her hands on connected them. Perhaps it was the night they met.
"Yes, and I recall that I was as equally un-impressed at your inability to use my full name then as I still am Hayle. Of course, you can't fault their taste, I am the attractive one in our little coterie." Delanra glances at some of the other faces sat around the table, her face shows the faintest hint of her cheek muscles twitching at the exchange with the genasi. She gestures to her slim fitting, scathing cut dress, a few jewels and tasteful extravagances sewn into a deep green hued fabric. That green would match the tones of the mottled scales on her skin, one of the few parts of her skin that she usually tries to keep covered, were you able to compare the two. "Though I couldn't agree with you more that the Dagger is the last place I intend on frequenting this eve. I'll not risk some lout spilling their tankard over such fine fabric..."
As the cat jumps up onto the table, Delanra catches a glimpse at the note, and raises her eyebrow as the feline promptly saunters away, in the manner that cats are prone to do. Expecting it to be another jest by one of the people sitting there, Delanra summarily dismissed it and take a moment to reflect. The group were far from the normal people that Delanra would associate with, though Hayle was by far the most interesting amongst them, they had all been of use in Delanra's travels, and useful people were a commodity not to be so easily discarded.
"I hear there is a passable rendition of Bellagar the Black Dragon, showing at the Silverlight presently, at least there we would be in respectable company."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Halis blinked slowly. The tabby cat on the table blinked back. He reached out with his mind. He knew with his Mind Link that this cat would understand him. Whether it would respond or not... well, cats.
Were you sent by the dark? Are you hunting me? Do your agents seek my death, feline?
Halis waits for a response, but it's most likely that if a cat could scoff it would. It does the practical cat equivalent of a scoff anyway by prominently displaying the anatomy of its posterior with a well-timed tail lift before jumping off the table. He watches for a moment longer before a buzzing in his ears causes him to look back at the others.
Oh. They were doing that thing again where they moved their mouths. Talking. He was supposed to pay attention when they did that, at least, that was what Thokk always said; something about being polite. Moving his lips was so bothersome, though. What was it they were discussing now? Something about what to do with their evening? He does manage to zero in and focus on the most important thing in this conversation. Wetting his lips, he opens his mouth, his voice thin and soft from disuse.
"They asked to marry me first," he says to Hayle and Delanra, when the latter professes her beauty as the reason for the altercation that brought at least him into this strange fold. "They thought I was a woman." He blinks again. "I was regretful about not being able to inform them of their misunderstanding before the smiting began." There's a long pause, and his eyes go glassy, as if reliving a memory. "...Regardless, I also would prefer to not frequent the Rusty Dagger. We should follow the cat instead. It has secrets. ... And a missive." He points at the sign.
As the cat leaps off the table, Syl remains slouched back against his wooden chair. "I've heard of chasing tail, but this is ridiculous!" He attempts, as he has a thousand times before, to cut through the seriousness and ambient tension of the group. They were a good bunch, he often thought to himself, but an odd grouping to be sure.
Syl brings his tankard up to his clean-shaven face, taking a generous swig as his blue eyes peer out from over the top. He puts it back down, wipes his top lip and shrugs. "Seems to me we can do most of these other things on just about any night. But following a strange cat around that probably hopped up on this table by coincidence, chasing it through alleys as it hisses at other cats and shows its butthole to every passerby? Don't know if we can afford to pass that up."
DM - Above & Below
"You're valuation on the cat seems sorely inflated to me Syl... Chasing cats in an alley is hardly a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity, and in many places likely to lead to a 'last in a lifetime' experience." Delanra replied, clearly unenthused at the prospect of wandering the streets on the trail of a feline. "Though if Halis is so keen to pry into the secrets of who attached a note to teh tail of a cat, I can entertain myself by tagging along and seeing what trouble you get yourselves into."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"Ha," Hayle blurts out. "Yes just the type of evening I had imagined. Just think of the daring adventures, slinking across rooftops, evading marauding dogs, hunting backalleys for buried treasure, and finally finding the stinking, rotting fish carcass. A tale to tell for generations."As she said this, Hayle couldn't ignore the fact that the cat had brought a note with it, hardly common behavior for this type of animal. "Still, I must agree with Del and Halis, there is something strange here...I can't believe I am saying this, but my vote is to follow the cat."
"It's the right thing to do," Halis sighs. "Cruelty to cats will be repaid upon the sinner tenfold. Cats have a connection to dreams, you know. They have nine lives. And friends. Don't cross a cat, and don't mess with his tail. We should help it."
He pushes off from the table and begins to weave his way around the other patrons towards the cat, grabbing a bit of smoked meat from his pack as he does so and holding it up in the air.
Cat, oh cat, he calls out, the mind link with the beast still being upheld. I've tasty meat, if you will tell me... who put that sign on your tail? And would you like us to remove it for you, noble creature?
Halis is so distracted as he attempts to talk to the cat that he bumps armor-first into several tables, and a few serving wenches, as he moves along. He doesn't even seem to notice that he's getting in the way or spilling peoples' ale as he moves, and it looks like he might require a physical intervention sooner rather than later if you don't want him to dreamily drift into another barfight.
"Yay! Kitty talking!" Thokk turns his huge head to the group, wanting to confirm that they've seen this marvel, and entirely missing the fact that they don't seem quite as elated. It's not really clear if Thokk actually recognize the request but he's up and following the cat anyway. "Kitty, you talk more! Thokk want know where kitty learn to talk. Kitty go kitty school?"
While you continue to discuss the merits of following a strange cat around the city at night, he reaches the door, turns to look back and you'd swear his eyes roll as he heaves a sigh. Trotting back to your table, he nimbly leaps back up and rubs his tail under your noses while purring loudly before hopping down once more and making his way out again, this time with you all in tow.
The waiter quietly thanks whatever deity he's praying to today and begins to clean the table.
You follow the cat out into the brisk evening air; the hubbub of the city providing a discordant yet satisfying backdrop. Looking around, you just manage to catch a glimpse of a tail with a note tied to it slipping around the corner of the tavern. As you give chase, he leads you down one street then another. Through an alley and a deserted shopping district closed up for the night. As you twist and turn, you look around and realize he's leading you to the Beggar's Nest, the most destitute district in Neverwinter. The narrow streets and dirty alleyways seem to press in on you as you continue. Rubbish piles fill corners; shadowy individuals lurking in dark doorways watch as you jog past to keep pace with the cat.
The cat leads you down an especially filthy lane with garbage piled waist high on either side. A deep, stupid-sounding, gravely voice rumbles out. "Ya sh'd know better than t' bring yer friends down my alley, Gus...”
A large, dirty half-ogre emerges from a pile of refuse, grinning wickedly and dragging a large, chipped axe behind him. He hefts it onto his shoulder and looks down at you.
“Now, lil' people,” he slowly drawls, “we can do dis tha’ easy way or tha’ hard way,” and holds out his other huge hand expectantly.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Mis'tuv (Halfling Fathomless Warlock) - The Voyage of the Fallen Star
Meresaa (Vedalken Artillerist Artificer) - Destination Unknown
Hutton Crowcreek (Human Fighter) - Curse of the Crimson Throne
Halis slows down and glares at each shadowy individual as they pass. Several of them startle, glare, or scramble away afterwards as he sends probing, unasked-for telepathic messages to complete strangers, all along the lines of:
"Are you the dark? For I am the light, here to purge you of your sins!"
"I know it's you. I've been waiting to meet you. Face your destiny if you dare, fool!"
"Try me, punk. Just try me. The shadows shall not prevail today!"
He stops with the constant barrage of telepathic harassment when the cat eventually leads the group to an actual threat. He blinks at the hand being offered to him, wrinkling his nose a little, and then sends another telepathic message, this one to the huge half-ogre before him.
"While I appreciate your candor, you should know this habit of reaching out to total strangers is an unhealthy method of promoting disease transmittance. If you're suffering under such a malady, you should simply ask for aid from the temples rather than demand it of total strangers."
Stepping back, he grabs Thokk and pushes his burly companion ahead. "I believe he wants to shake your hand," he murmurs softly. "Put your best fist forward, my good man."
"Sorry, pal," Syl joins Thokk and Halis as they interact with the half-ogre. "I make it a practice not to give hand-outs to anyone that speaks in comic sans."
Syl leans forward to bow a polite greeting, bending one arm up over his mid-section and the other behind his back. As he does the latter, he slowly wraps his fingers around the hilt of his rapier, preparing for whatever might come. "But you are well met," he continues. "although I'm afraid there's no Gus among us."
DM - Above & Below
Thokk, the large, clean half-ogre walks up to the pile-of-refuse half-ogre, grinning warmly and carrying a large, chipped ax on his back. He hefts one hand onto his shoulder as he looks down at the offered appendage, then, a look of recognition crossing his features, Thokk slaps his hand across the other half-ogre's. "High-five!"
Tailing along at the rear if the group as they make their way through the throwing, Delanra questions the sanity of her companion's actions. Humanity, though that term could barely be applied to the assortment of races in their little group, was still a mystery to her. A very intriguing mystery. Seeing the others change direction she assume the cat finally went down one of the aforementioned alleyways... So predictable.
As they pass through dirtier streets toward the more disparate area of the city, Del lifts her skirt a little, trying to avoid them hem from getting sullied on the refuse and who knows what that litters the walkways. "I seem to recall mention of both alleyways, and that I didn't care to have this outfit soiled tonight, and by the smell, there are worse liquids than ale round here..." She pauses as the half-ogre appears and extend his hand with a drab attempt at extortion.
Muttering to herself so only those closest can hear, she finishes"I also recall mentioning 'last in a lifetime experiences', but why would anyone want to listen to my perfectly sensible, and apparently accurate musings about where this was heading." As Thokk seems to be trying to make friends, Delanra shouts over. "Thokk, Halis may well be right, your friend doesn't smell too healthy, best let him.be on his way, and try not to half kill it, like that bugbear you thought was a giant stuffed teddy and gave an overly enthusiastic hug too!"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Hayle followed the others out of the bar. Walking along with Delanra, she chatted idly about the trip down the coast. As they followed the cat through the street, her steps picked up and she had a bit of bounce. Then the cat turned into the alley.
"Ya sh'd know better than t' bring yer friends down my alley, Gus...” As the half-ogre steps out, Hayle's hand drops down to her dagger and she watches carefully.
Gus? Was that the cat's name?
Halis had gone very quiet. He was probably trying to do his mind trick thing again. Doesn't he know that never works? Hayle thought. But she appreciated his next move of pushing Thokk forward. If there was anything Thokk was good at, it was being a shield between them and any potential danger. The high-five though took Hayle by surprise. Was thokk unaware of what the other half-ogre was trying to do?
"Thokk, Halis may well be right, your friend doesn't smell too healthy, best let him be on his way, and try not to half kill it, like that bugbear you thought was a giant stuffed teddy and gave an overly enthusiastic hug too!" Hayle worked hard to suppress a laugh as she thought about both the absurdity and likelihood of this scenario. She could just see Thokk pick up a Bugbear and hug him to death.
As all of this happened, Hayle considered her options. Best bet was that the half-ogre would simply be confused by Thokk's actions and they could keep walking, but in the event of things going sideways...Her minds eye started to reach deep into her soul, where the tentacles of an other-dimensional being writhed, waiting for her call.
Halis tries to keep from palming his forehead as Thokk gives the other half-ogre a high-five. He pulls himself up to his full height - all 5-foot-nine-inches of it, and frowns down, or rather, up, his nose as the two half-ogres, his eyes slowly glowing a brighter and brighter silver as he speaks. Directing a finger to the one currently claiming ownership of the the alley, he says slowly and clearly,
"This, good ser, is most certainly not your alley. For one, it is much too clean. For two, this alleyway is city property. I'm sure you haven't properly filed a claim to it with the city government. While we can appreciate the fact that the guard prefer to spend their time in cleanlier areas of the city, we can't ignore that they leave the case of citizen policing and arrests in the hands of indivudiuals such as ourselves. And while you may be but one, we are many. As you still have both of your hands, I trust that you can at least count on your fingers and realize this fact.
Besides, I do not like people who threaten cats. Now please step aside before this needs to get messy."
Intimidation: 21
(Hey, Thokk, can you give his hand a nice squeeze for advantage while we talk? -> 24)
(I'm guessing that roll was to convey that to Thokk wordlessly. I'll make an Insight check to see if he grasps what you're trying to get across. - 18 )
It seems he does... sort of.
Thokk gives the half-ogre a big enthusiastic hug.
(Give me a contested athletics check vs his con to see how our fella reacts.)
Athletics: 16
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Mis'tuv (Halfling Fathomless Warlock) - The Voyage of the Fallen Star
Meresaa (Vedalken Artillerist Artificer) - Destination Unknown
Hutton Crowcreek (Human Fighter) - Curse of the Crimson Throne
(Did you mean that's the Athletics check, or was that supposed to be his Con check? Or did you mean roll a grapple? Either way: 18.)
(It was more to see if they can match each other's squeezes. He's not swayed by words but a significant enough show of strength might help. Hot Shots! style)
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Mis'tuv (Halfling Fathomless Warlock) - The Voyage of the Fallen Star
Meresaa (Vedalken Artillerist Artificer) - Destination Unknown
Hutton Crowcreek (Human Fighter) - Curse of the Crimson Throne