Dusk smiles at Morgan. "No, we should be fine. Let's get back inside. Did you have something warm to drink already? It's getting colder by the minute. I'll get myself some good cocoa – or how we call it, Kakao."
Scarlet "Sneaks" over to yerandell and asks What's up with this guy?
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"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
The roomy eyes of the halfling seem to contemplate Yerandell's question as the two stare at each other for a few awkward seconds. Finally, the old eyes drop to the tabletop and the quivering mouth says, "I'm ... I think I should wait for him."
Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the halfling looks back up at Yerandell and Scarlet, grinning. "Hob!"
Yerandell whispers out of the side of his mouth, "trying to figure that out." When he hears the halfling say Hob, he says, "oh boy, here we go again. Are you Fosco?"
"No, I'm Hob," says the halfling. "Fosco? Fosco's that dim witted son of mine. Why would you bring him up? No account ... " He shakes his head, the firelight glinting off the shiny dome. "I used to be called Hob the Firewalker, but that was too long ago for you to know that." Hob looks around and smacks his lips. "What's a fella gotta do to get something to drink around here?"
As Max sees people coming back in the tavern says Ladies and gentle men who of you want to pay for price less trophies as he says this he loosens his armor now scars are visable throw holes in his armor
I think that i've heard about this.... I think its a curse called multiple personality curse. She says to yerandell. She turns back to "Hob" and asks So do you have any idea where we can find Fosco? If you tell me i'll buy you a drink! She nudges the halfling with her elbow.
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"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
Nine-While-Nine sits up with a start. He had fallen asleep, something that rarely happened this far from the deeper woodlands. He checked his lap and the three-legged fox kit still slept, but it would wake up hungry soon. The green-clad Kenku began rummaging through his satchel, finally finding the oilcloth packet of grubs he had been saving, fattening themselves on sawdust. He snapped one up deftly with his beak, to ensure they were alive and wriggling, before carefully folding the rest in the packet and setting them aside for when his charge woke up.
His arrows fletched , and out of carvings for he day, he surreptitiously pulled a small book from his belt, an elaborately bound little volume of Eladrin poetry. He finds his bookmark and hums as he engrossed himself in ancient verse.
Hob looks back and forth between the Dwarf and the Tabaxi, his extremely bushy eyebrows knitted together. "What are you two going on about? I've never had blackouts. I'm not cursed. And I don't care where Fosco is. Now, you seem like a very nice ... cat ... person, but I can't help you find him. We ... don't have a very good relationship. Never have." His eyes start to wander and his face slackens. "I'm sorry. Who were you looking for?"
Continuing to look slightly confused, the old halfling looks around the tavern. "Woods? This is a tavern." He looks up at Yerandell pleasantly. "Have I ordered a drink?" He looks around the top of his table and then on the ground underneath the table. "I don't see a drink," he mumbles as if talking to himself.
"The tavern's a tree ... " Hob looks around again in amazement, the corners of his mouth turning up. "Reminds me of the time when my magic carpet turned out to be a regular carpet that had been infested by a family of the tiniest pixies I'd ever seen." He looks slyly at the Dwarf. "I might never have known if it hadn't been for that second bowl of beans, if you know what I mean." Hob's body shakes as he laughs a nasal snort. "They couldn't contain their giggles at the sound of my ... er ... trumpet, if you know what I mean." Hob continues to laugh quietly.
The dwarf gives off a short guffaw. That sounds mighty memorable after this, he goes up to the bar and orders the old timer some piping warm soup and some ale
There is a rustling sound coming from the back of the tavern, followed by the sound of a garbage bin being knocked over, followed by a squeal of alarm, and strange mutterings.
"No, no mustn't! Shhh, shhh. We'll get in trouble. Just a snack, then we clean it up. Don't be rude. Well, I won't but I know how you get- Don't you talk to me in that tone of voice!"
If one were to peer behind the charming tavern, they would find a short, filthy, scrawny man with a tormented look on his face rummaging through the garbage, picking through scraps of food and chasing down bugs as they scurry away from the light and back to the shadows of larger bins.
The man's clothes are tattered, and his belongings are meager... those of a vagabond. His smell and lack of hygiene would suggest he has been homeless for some time, and although he seems to be speaking to someone, there does not appear to be anyone there.
Max walks over to the dwarf with a golden dwarven hammer and says would you like it only 300 gold or a couple free drinks because you look like a man that likes to get the job done
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Dusk smiles at Morgan. "No, we should be fine. Let's get back inside. Did you have something warm to drink already? It's getting colder by the minute. I'll get myself some good cocoa – or how we call it, Kakao."
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"Alright," yerandell says to the old man, "where did you last see him?"
Scarlet "Sneaks" over to yerandell and asks What's up with this guy?
"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
The roomy eyes of the halfling seem to contemplate Yerandell's question as the two stare at each other for a few awkward seconds. Finally, the old eyes drop to the tabletop and the quivering mouth says, "I'm ... I think I should wait for him."
Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the halfling looks back up at Yerandell and Scarlet, grinning. "Hob!"
Yerandell whispers out of the side of his mouth, "trying to figure that out." When he hears the halfling say Hob, he says, "oh boy, here we go again. Are you Fosco?"
"No, I'm Hob," says the halfling. "Fosco? Fosco's that dim witted son of mine. Why would you bring him up? No account ... " He shakes his head, the firelight glinting off the shiny dome. "I used to be called Hob the Firewalker, but that was too long ago for you to know that." Hob looks around and smacks his lips. "What's a fella gotta do to get something to drink around here?"
"You must have so many stories. After you finished adventuring, did you start having blackouts?" the dwarf asks with a worried expression.
As Max sees people coming back in the tavern says Ladies and gentle men who of you want to pay for price less trophies as he says this he loosens his armor now scars are visable throw holes in his armor
I think that i've heard about this.... I think its a curse called multiple personality curse. She says to yerandell. She turns back to "Hob" and asks So do you have any idea where we can find Fosco? If you tell me i'll buy you a drink! She nudges the halfling with her elbow.
"I want to pull out it's tongue so Timbity can use it as a whip."- W
Scarlet is a red haired wood elf. She is wearing a semi-formal red dress and her green cloak with silver lining. She has a beat up old scimitar at her side. She has dark green eyes and a feather in her hair. Her skin is well tanned.
Max yells Mulitpersonality Curse I got a fix for that its called write it done and it makes one heck of a play
Nine-While-Nine sits up with a start. He had fallen asleep, something that rarely happened this far from the deeper woodlands. He checked his lap and the three-legged fox kit still slept, but it would wake up hungry soon. The green-clad Kenku began rummaging through his satchel, finally finding the oilcloth packet of grubs he had been saving, fattening themselves on sawdust. He snapped one up deftly with his beak, to ensure they were alive and wriggling, before carefully folding the rest in the packet and setting them aside for when his charge woke up.
His arrows fletched , and out of carvings for he day, he surreptitiously pulled a small book from his belt, an elaborately bound little volume of Eladrin poetry. He finds his bookmark and hums as he engrossed himself in ancient verse.
Hob looks back and forth between the Dwarf and the Tabaxi, his extremely bushy eyebrows knitted together. "What are you two going on about? I've never had blackouts. I'm not cursed. And I don't care where Fosco is. Now, you seem like a very nice ... cat ... person, but I can't help you find him. We ... don't have a very good relationship. Never have." His eyes start to wander and his face slackens. "I'm sorry. Who were you looking for?"
"No one, sir, just wondering what brings you to these woods in this weather." The dwarf replies, trying to changing the subject quickly and quietly.
Continuing to look slightly confused, the old halfling looks around the tavern. "Woods? This is a tavern." He looks up at Yerandell pleasantly. "Have I ordered a drink?" He looks around the top of his table and then on the ground underneath the table. "I don't see a drink," he mumbles as if talking to himself.
"Hob? You have yet to order and the tavern in a wood. In fact, its a tree itself. Would you like me to order you some ale and stew?"
"The tavern's a tree ... " Hob looks around again in amazement, the corners of his mouth turning up. "Reminds me of the time when my magic carpet turned out to be a regular carpet that had been infested by a family of the tiniest pixies I'd ever seen." He looks slyly at the Dwarf. "I might never have known if it hadn't been for that second bowl of beans, if you know what I mean." Hob's body shakes as he laughs a nasal snort. "They couldn't contain their giggles at the sound of my ... er ... trumpet, if you know what I mean." Hob continues to laugh quietly.
The dwarf gives off a short guffaw. That sounds mighty memorable after this, he goes up to the bar and orders the old timer some piping warm soup and some ale
There is a rustling sound coming from the back of the tavern, followed by the sound of a garbage bin being knocked over, followed by a squeal of alarm, and strange mutterings.
"No, no mustn't! Shhh, shhh. We'll get in trouble. Just a snack, then we clean it up. Don't be rude. Well, I won't but I know how you get- Don't you talk to me in that tone of voice!"
If one were to peer behind the charming tavern, they would find a short, filthy, scrawny man with a tormented look on his face rummaging through the garbage, picking through scraps of food and chasing down bugs as they scurry away from the light and back to the shadows of larger bins.
The man's clothes are tattered, and his belongings are meager... those of a vagabond. His smell and lack of hygiene would suggest he has been homeless for some time, and although he seems to be speaking to someone, there does not appear to be anyone there.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Max walks over to the dwarf with a golden dwarven hammer and says would you like it only 300 gold or a couple free drinks because you look like a man that likes to get the job done