While Reginald examines the dagger, Roxaria shares some of what they learned at Tulgi’s house. “We thought she was going to be stubborn about it all, but Eline here managed to ease the atmosphere and she told us much more. Tulgi stole a bunch of relics from Ugorn. Anyways, I’ll let Eline tell her part.”
Roxaria looks at Eline and Trem, “Just after you and Trem left though, I asked Tulgi for a relic and she actually gave me one.” Roxaria points to the ornately decorated dagger Reginald is examining.
”But, that’s not all. Tulgi told me where the remaining relics are. They are with her sister, Hulil. She is located in Croaker Cave which is North of here.”
Roxari sips her wine, moistening her lips after all that talk. She eagerly listens to what the other group has to say and see if there are any connections to be made.
(OOC: Sorry for the late reply--my kids are in town, and I just barely got some time to write!)
Eline and Trem had entered a few moments before Roxaria, and found the table they are all currently at. She notes Trem's outburst, though doesn't react to it. Eline looks then at Trem, and then at Roxaria, and finally intrigued by Reginald's magical production of Urgon's house. She wishes she could do things like that! Anyway, shaking her head a little, she addresses the group at Roxaria's urging.
"So, I had the opportunity to examine Madame Tulgi, and determine a little more of the nature of her affliction, at least...I think so. It was very obviously magical, and is quite likely contagious, though I am no healer or doctor of medicine. I also learned that this affliction has alchemical properties to it. While caution is advised in handling that dagger, Roxaria, we need to get it to an alchemist to determine what the properties are, and maybe, just maybe, might be able to break it down enough to begin determining a clue on how to cure this thing."
She looks around again, and continues. "There's...something else." At first, she notices Trem stiffen slightly, possibly suspecting her of ratting him out for stealing the journal, but she continues regardless. "I noticed in one of her journal entries--something I saw out of the corner of my eye, really--that there was a word that was scrawled in the margins of the entry."
She pauses for a moment.
"Uttolots. Any of you heard that word, name, or description before, whatever it is?"
She rests a hand on Trem's shoulder. "Trem," she urges, "You should tell them what you know, since you seem to know something?"
Absently, Eline's mage hand pulls out her sketchbook and quill, and begins sketching and scribbling again. From what Eline had seen of the dagger given to Roxaria, she has her mage hand draw it. It seems to scribble down notes furiously as everyone is talking.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Vauthok drained another tankard of the gods-blessed mead at the bar top and paid for another before walking back over to the group as Elaine went into detail about what they discovered. The giant nursed his drink and remained silent, letting the more intellectually-inclined members of this newly formed party do the heavy lifting.
He felt a bit of childish excitement at the prospect of watching Reginald perform whatever spell he thought would help identify the dagger. Generally Vauthok hated magic with a passion but the gnome had already done a few things that were impressive. Why not see another?
Uttolots. A odd word. The barbarian wracks his brain in a attempt to recall a instance in the past that he heard that once before.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Secretly, Eline has her mage hand turn to another point in her sketchbook, and pulling the item closer to her, takes the quill pen from the mage hand, and begins drawing with her real hand. Every so often, she steals a look at Trem's face, and sketches. When she feels like there will be a moment when Trem turns his eyes to her book, she quickly and carefully turns back to the dagger she had been drawing earlier. Of course, this was only for concealment's sake. She had probably outlined the same dark line along the edge of the blade more times than she wished to count, but it didn't matter.
Looking up again, she steals another glance at the elven rogue, and turns her attention back to the task at hand.
(12 Dexterity Stealth Check to keep her action at this moment concealed as best as possible.)
The Uttolots are a crime family from Shadycreek Run...
To turn attention away from himself, Trem looks Roxaria dead in the eyes and says:
So we all suspect that the relics might be the cause of this ice-disease and your first reaction is to take one of them with you? By Bahamut's big blue balls woman! What are you thinking?!
Trem seems to collect himself a bit after this outburst.
I'm sorry... It's just, you should be more careful. Maybe Urgon tried to sell some of them before Tulgi stole the rest. We should check Pelc Curiosities before we head to Croaker Cave.
Trem notices Eline sporadically looking at him. Oh, damn, keep your emotions in check Trem! She probably thinks you're a madman if you yell like that! He can't help himself though. That blasted autocratic woman realy gets on his nerves. Well, that wasn't fair, just because a she's a Glassblade doesn't mean... Just be nice to her, Trem thinks to himself.
Eline watches Trem as he grills Roxaria. In one way, he's right: that they shouldn't be idly carrying Urgon's infected relics. On the other hand though...? Wasn't she and Trem doing the exact same thing? She feels a pit bore into her stomach--ashamed of her selfishness. At the same time, however...
Gods...she hated these streams of consciousness that she would often find herself engaging in her mind. She just needed a warm bath, fluffy pillows, and fresh blankets to sleep in. Later, she thinks to herself. That'll come later.
Eline watches the gnome Reginald's illusory model of Urgon's ransacked house, and marvels at its detail. He must be quite a gifted magician indeed! She would have to find time to discuss the finer points of magical theory and praxis with him some time.
Pelc Oddities, and then Croaker's Cave. Should be interesting, she thought absently.
Maybe they all could plot to overthrow the Uttulots Crime Family! That would prove quite exhilerating, indeed! Nevertheless, they had to take things one at a time. She watched the group intently, wondering what would come next.
Roxaria feels an initial shock of guilt course through her veins as Trem lays into her; however, she returns the stare, lips pursed and she suppresses her emotions. Trem may have been right. She very well may have endangered the party, a lack of wisdom on her part; however, Roxaria silently stands by her conviction that acquiring the relic was a good thing. After the grilling, Roxaria quietly focuses on her drink and swirls the intoxicating liquid around. She takes a forced sip, but it is obvious she is no longer thirsty after Trem’s accusation.
When Trem apologizes, she looks up from her drink and quietly responds, guilt creeping out, “You obviously have more wordly experience than I do. I know I have much to learn.” her tone of voice now changes. The pitch begins to rise as she gets indignantly defensive while Trem’s accusation continues to dig at her, “Did you even know that I just arrived here in Palebank yesterday? I was assigned here after I screwed up in Uthadorn. I just wanted to help. To do something right! I really hope that I did not endanger the party and if I did, well…” she stops short before starting up a pity party for herself.
A moment of awkward silence settles in after Roxaria gets that off her chest, her tone of voice drops lower, almost flat that carries personal conviction, “I still believe this was a good acquisition and I hope that Reginald is able to glean something from the dagger that will help us out.”
Roxaria looks at Reginald who is deep in concentration trying to get information from the dagger, then turns back to Trem with a little resignation, “I agree, Trem. We should maybe pay a visit to Elro. Let’s do it tomorrow, though. I’m no longer hungry for dinner.”
In a friendly tone Trem replies (with an easy smile):
Well, I guess we're both screw ups then! Hahaha! Nothing we can do about it now, we'll have to wait for Reginald to finish.
Trem raises his drink and yells:
To screw ups! '
Now, I hope that'll work out, Trem thinks. Hopefully that dagger isn't the cause of whatever is happening. It might be a good idea to talk to Roxaria one-on-one. No need for this hostility to continue.
(OOC: This is why I love this game! Character interactions are the best, especially when drama is created!)
Eline slightly sinks into her chair, feeling that she might have contributed in a way to this--at the very least not standing up for the Glass Blade woman when she might have been able to.
Eline thinks to herself as Trem raises his glass...to screw ups. To screw ups who made poor life choices and got themselves out in this mess. To screw ups who screwed up their superior's orders. To screw ups who couldn't save her mother in time...
((OOC- Yeah, this was some great drama! I can only imagine the awkward tension the others may have been feeling!))
Roxaria tightens her lips, but a slight smile peeks out, like the sun fighting behind thick clouds. She inhales deeply. Trem really was trying to make an effort here. She should acknowledge that. In a quiet, yet affirming voice, “Yes, to us screw ups and misfits.” She begins to ease and open up a little by finishing her wine and looks to Vauthok. “I need something stronger, like a dwarven stout. How’s your drink?”
A pause, and then to Trem and Eline, “Drinks? I’ll buy this round.” Looking to Kha and Reginald, “We need a proper icebreaker. No pun intended.”
Roxaria flags the dwarven barkeep and requests two pitchers of ale, some glasses, a dwarven stout for herself and whatever drink Vauthok requests. She nudges Vauthok with a slight elbow, “You never did tell me where you learned to drink.”
When the commotion between the two elves had began Vauthok had already moved his way over to Reginald to watch the ritual. Taking deep gulps of his mead the barbarian was literally hovering over the gnome as he worked without noticing what exactly he was doing. Fortunately, the beginnings of a argument broke the man from his trance-like stare and he stepped away before he could disturb the little magic-user too much.
His cool gaze roved between Trem and Roxaria as the drama unfolded. Generally Vauthok would hope for a fight to break out so he could join in but this didn’t seem like that type of situation. Besides, unnecessary violence was his job and no one else’s. He placed a hand on Roxaria’s shoulder momentarily after she had finished, “You did good.” It was short and blunt but Vauthok thought it got the point across. Sometimes to achieve what you want you’ve got to make the dangerous decisions and hope they pay off.
Trem’s obvious attempt at a change in the subject caught the Goliath off guard but he tapped his chin at the question nonetheless. “Yeah.. Well, sort of.” Vauthok grinned madly as a memory played itself out. “Saw her cut a man in two one time.” He traced a line from forehead down his chest to emphasize.
Vauthok raised his tankard with the others in a cheer and laughed boisterously. Yes, to the misfits. Now that was something he could drink to. He answered Roxaria’s question by turning the tankard upside down, not even a drop fell from it. “Stronger the better! Dwarven stout it is!” Now this was more like it! Best way for a party to grow closer? Get absolutely smashed together!
“Self-taught! I’ve spent the last ten years with you lowlanders so I practice daily!” He gave Roxaria a big grin.
In his preparation, Reginald made sure that the silvered maul and other equipment the brought back was close by. "Might as well check everything at once", he thinks to himself. The gnome murmurs the detection ritual slowly, softly to himself. He unsheathes the dagger and examines it, in preparation for the second ritual if it (and any of the other equipment) happens to be imbued with mystic energies. The gnome admires the workmanship, thinking of the smiths of his clan. he checks to see if there is a maker's mark on the blade, which would give them a clue to the region it was made. If this was a magic item, there may be the mark of its creator somewhere on it also.
"Reginald IronCrag" the youngster thinks to himself, "If there is a curse on this dagger, you've surely fallen victim to it by now. No need to be cautious now!"
When he finally finishes the rituals, he announces to the group his findings on the objects in question.
When the commotion between the two elves had began Vauthok had already moved his way over to Reginald to watch the ritual. Taking deep gulps of his mead the barbarian was literally hovering over the gnome as he worked without noticing what exactly he was doing. Fortunately, the beginnings of a argument broke the man from his trance-like stare and he stepped away before he could disturb the little magic-user too much.
His cool gaze roved between Trem and Roxaria as the drama unfolded. Generally Vauthok would hope for a fight to break out so he could join in but this didn’t seem like that type of situation. Besides, unnecessary violence was his job and no one else’s. He placed a hand on Roxaria’s shoulder momentarily after she had finished, “You did good.” It was short and blunt but Vauthok thought it got the point across. Sometimes to achieve what you want you’ve got to make the dangerous decisions and hope they pay off.
Trem’s obvious attempt at a change in the subject caught the Goliath off guard but he tapped his chin at the question nonetheless. “Yeah.. Well, sort of.” Vauthok grinned madly as a memory played itself out. “Saw her cut a man in two one time.” He traced a line from forehead down his chest to emphasize.
Vauthok raised his tankard with the others in a cheer and laughed boisterously. Yes, to the misfits. Now that was something he could drink to. He answered Roxaria’s question by turning the tankard upside down, not even a drop fell from it. “Stronger the better! Dwarven stout it is!” Now this was more like it! Best way for a party to grow closer? Get absolutely smashed together!
“Self-taught! I’ve spent the last ten years with you lowlanders so I practice daily!” He gave Roxaria a big grin.
Roxaria smiles bigger now. The tension easing. She knows that it isn’t completely gone, but for now she can be agreeable with Trem. She thinks to herself, I can be more wary and not endanger the group. Put a little thought into your actions, Rox. I believe Trem won’t lie again. This is all a misunderstanding.
She looks to Vauthok, “Thank you, Vauthok. I just thought it would do us some good to acquire a relic.” She loosens the hair tie keeping her cerulean hair neatly up in a bun according to Glass Blade Dress and Appearance regulations. He runs her hand through her hair and lets it fall around her mid back before tying it up in a less conservative pony tail, sitting high on her head. Vauthok hands her a mug of dwarven stout and offers a salude, “Ten years drinking with lowlanders? Did your clansmen not challenge you enough?” Roxaria teasingly winks at him, “Seriously, lowlander drinking tolerance doesn’t seem like much competition for a Goliath like yourself. Surely you’ve done some quality drinking with your clan? Tribe? I’m not sure about how a Goliath lives in a community.”
While Reginald examines the dagger, Roxaria shares some of what they learned at Tulgi’s house. “We thought she was going to be stubborn about it all, but Eline here managed to ease the atmosphere and she told us much more. Tulgi stole a bunch of relics from Ugorn. Anyways, I’ll let Eline tell her part.”
Roxaria looks at Eline and Trem, “Just after you and Trem left though, I asked Tulgi for a relic and she actually gave me one.” Roxaria points to the ornately decorated dagger Reginald is examining.
”But, that’s not all. Tulgi told me where the remaining relics are. They are with her sister, Hulil. She is located in Croaker Cave which is North of here.”
Roxari sips her wine, moistening her lips after all that talk. She eagerly listens to what the other group has to say and see if there are any connections to be made.
(OOC: Sorry for the late reply--my kids are in town, and I just barely got some time to write!)
Eline and Trem had entered a few moments before Roxaria, and found the table they are all currently at. She notes Trem's outburst, though doesn't react to it. Eline looks then at Trem, and then at Roxaria, and finally intrigued by Reginald's magical production of Urgon's house. She wishes she could do things like that! Anyway, shaking her head a little, she addresses the group at Roxaria's urging.
"So, I had the opportunity to examine Madame Tulgi, and determine a little more of the nature of her affliction, at least...I think so. It was very obviously magical, and is quite likely contagious, though I am no healer or doctor of medicine. I also learned that this affliction has alchemical properties to it. While caution is advised in handling that dagger, Roxaria, we need to get it to an alchemist to determine what the properties are, and maybe, just maybe, might be able to break it down enough to begin determining a clue on how to cure this thing."
She looks around again, and continues. "There's...something else." At first, she notices Trem stiffen slightly, possibly suspecting her of ratting him out for stealing the journal, but she continues regardless. "I noticed in one of her journal entries--something I saw out of the corner of my eye, really--that there was a word that was scrawled in the margins of the entry."
She pauses for a moment.
"Uttolots. Any of you heard that word, name, or description before, whatever it is?"
Roxaria listens to Eline regarding the word “Uttolots” and thinks back if she’s heard the word or name before.
History: 3
She rests a hand on Trem's shoulder. "Trem," she urges, "You should tell them what you know, since you seem to know something?"
Absently, Eline's mage hand pulls out her sketchbook and quill, and begins sketching and scribbling again. From what Eline had seen of the dagger given to Roxaria, she has her mage hand draw it. It seems to scribble down notes furiously as everyone is talking.
Eline begins sketching this dagger as Reginald prepares to cast a ritual to identify the properties of this weapon
Vauthok drained another tankard of the gods-blessed mead at the bar top and paid for another before walking back over to the group as Elaine went into detail about what they discovered. The giant nursed his drink and remained silent, letting the more intellectually-inclined members of this newly formed party do the heavy lifting.
He felt a bit of childish excitement at the prospect of watching Reginald perform whatever spell he thought would help identify the dagger. Generally Vauthok hated magic with a passion but the gnome had already done a few things that were impressive. Why not see another?
Uttolots. A odd word. The barbarian wracks his brain in a attempt to recall a instance in the past that he heard that once before.
((History: 14 ))
Secretly, Eline has her mage hand turn to another point in her sketchbook, and pulling the item closer to her, takes the quill pen from the mage hand, and begins drawing with her real hand. Every so often, she steals a look at Trem's face, and sketches. When she feels like there will be a moment when Trem turns his eyes to her book, she quickly and carefully turns back to the dagger she had been drawing earlier. Of course, this was only for concealment's sake. She had probably outlined the same dark line along the edge of the blade more times than she wished to count, but it didn't matter.
Looking up again, she steals another glance at the elven rogue, and turns her attention back to the task at hand.
(12 Dexterity Stealth Check to keep her action at this moment concealed as best as possible.)
Reluctantly Trem begins to speak up.
The Uttolots are a crime family from Shadycreek Run...
To turn attention away from himself, Trem looks Roxaria dead in the eyes and says:
So we all suspect that the relics might be the cause of this ice-disease and your first reaction is to take one of them with you? By Bahamut's big blue balls woman! What are you thinking?!
Trem seems to collect himself a bit after this outburst.
I'm sorry... It's just, you should be more careful. Maybe Urgon tried to sell some of them before Tulgi stole the rest. We should check Pelc Curiosities before we head to Croaker Cave.
Player: Any Good Alignment // DM: Lawful Evil
Trem notices Eline sporadically looking at him. Oh, damn, keep your emotions in check Trem! She probably thinks you're a madman if you yell like that! He can't help himself though. That blasted autocratic woman realy gets on his nerves. Well, that wasn't fair, just because a she's a Glassblade doesn't mean... Just be nice to her, Trem thinks to himself.
Player: Any Good Alignment // DM: Lawful Evil
Eline watches Trem as he grills Roxaria. In one way, he's right: that they shouldn't be idly carrying Urgon's infected relics. On the other hand though...? Wasn't she and Trem doing the exact same thing? She feels a pit bore into her stomach--ashamed of her selfishness. At the same time, however...
Gods...she hated these streams of consciousness that she would often find herself engaging in her mind. She just needed a warm bath, fluffy pillows, and fresh blankets to sleep in. Later, she thinks to herself. That'll come later.
Eline watches the gnome Reginald's illusory model of Urgon's ransacked house, and marvels at its detail. He must be quite a gifted magician indeed! She would have to find time to discuss the finer points of magical theory and praxis with him some time.
Pelc Oddities, and then Croaker's Cave. Should be interesting, she thought absently.
Maybe they all could plot to overthrow the Uttulots Crime Family! That would prove quite exhilerating, indeed! Nevertheless, they had to take things one at a time. She watched the group intently, wondering what would come next.
The atmoshere is electric, the tension between Trem and Roxaria fairly evident. This isn't good, Trem thinks. Better ease the tension.
That being said. It's getting late, shall we report our findings to Elro? Or maybe it's better to sleep on it, claer our heads a bit?
To appear more relaxed Trem tries to engage in idle chit-chat.
So, Vauthok, do you happen to know Sorah?
Player: Any Good Alignment // DM: Lawful Evil
Roxaria feels an initial shock of guilt course through her veins as Trem lays into her; however, she returns the stare, lips pursed and she suppresses her emotions. Trem may have been right. She very well may have endangered the party, a lack of wisdom on her part; however, Roxaria silently stands by her conviction that acquiring the relic was a good thing. After the grilling, Roxaria quietly focuses on her drink and swirls the intoxicating liquid around. She takes a forced sip, but it is obvious she is no longer thirsty after Trem’s accusation.
When Trem apologizes, she looks up from her drink and quietly responds, guilt creeping out, “You obviously have more wordly experience than I do. I know I have much to learn.” her tone of voice now changes. The pitch begins to rise as she gets indignantly defensive while Trem’s accusation continues to dig at her, “Did you even know that I just arrived here in Palebank yesterday? I was assigned here after I screwed up in Uthadorn. I just wanted to help. To do something right! I really hope that I did not endanger the party and if I did, well…” she stops short before starting up a pity party for herself.
A moment of awkward silence settles in after Roxaria gets that off her chest, her tone of voice drops lower, almost flat that carries personal conviction, “I still believe this was a good acquisition and I hope that Reginald is able to glean something from the dagger that will help us out.”
Roxaria looks at Reginald who is deep in concentration trying to get information from the dagger, then turns back to Trem with a little resignation, “I agree, Trem. We should maybe pay a visit to Elro. Let’s do it tomorrow, though. I’m no longer hungry for dinner.”
In a friendly tone Trem replies (with an easy smile):
Well, I guess we're both screw ups then! Hahaha! Nothing we can do about it now, we'll have to wait for Reginald to finish.
Trem raises his drink and yells:
To screw ups! '
Now, I hope that'll work out, Trem thinks. Hopefully that dagger isn't the cause of whatever is happening. It might be a good idea to talk to Roxaria one-on-one. No need for this hostility to continue.
Player: Any Good Alignment // DM: Lawful Evil
(OOC: This is why I love this game! Character interactions are the best, especially when drama is created!)
Eline slightly sinks into her chair, feeling that she might have contributed in a way to this--at the very least not standing up for the Glass Blade woman when she might have been able to.
Eline thinks to herself as Trem raises his glass...to screw ups. To screw ups who made poor life choices and got themselves out in this mess. To screw ups who screwed up their superior's orders. To screw ups who couldn't save her mother in time...
"Reginald? Find anything?"
((OOC- Yeah, this was some great drama! I can only imagine the awkward tension the others may have been feeling!))
Roxaria tightens her lips, but a slight smile peeks out, like the sun fighting behind thick clouds. She inhales deeply. Trem really was trying to make an effort here. She should acknowledge that. In a quiet, yet affirming voice, “Yes, to us screw ups and misfits.” She begins to ease and open up a little by finishing her wine and looks to Vauthok. “I need something stronger, like a dwarven stout. How’s your drink?”
A pause, and then to Trem and Eline, “Drinks? I’ll buy this round.” Looking to Kha and Reginald, “We need a proper icebreaker. No pun intended.”
Roxaria flags the dwarven barkeep and requests two pitchers of ale, some glasses, a dwarven stout for herself and whatever drink Vauthok requests. She nudges Vauthok with a slight elbow, “You never did tell me where you learned to drink.”
<<OOC - Oh yeah! More awkwardness is sure to follow!>>
Eiswein for me please! Or any sweet wine will do.
Player: Any Good Alignment // DM: Lawful Evil
When the commotion between the two elves had began Vauthok had already moved his way over to Reginald to watch the ritual. Taking deep gulps of his mead the barbarian was literally hovering over the gnome as he worked without noticing what exactly he was doing. Fortunately, the beginnings of a argument broke the man from his trance-like stare and he stepped away before he could disturb the little magic-user too much.
His cool gaze roved between Trem and Roxaria as the drama unfolded. Generally Vauthok would hope for a fight to break out so he could join in but this didn’t seem like that type of situation. Besides, unnecessary violence was his job and no one else’s. He placed a hand on Roxaria’s shoulder momentarily after she had finished, “You did good.” It was short and blunt but Vauthok thought it got the point across. Sometimes to achieve what you want you’ve got to make the dangerous decisions and hope they pay off.
Trem’s obvious attempt at a change in the subject caught the Goliath off guard but he tapped his chin at the question nonetheless. “Yeah.. Well, sort of.” Vauthok grinned madly as a memory played itself out. “Saw her cut a man in two one time.” He traced a line from forehead down his chest to emphasize.
Vauthok raised his tankard with the others in a cheer and laughed boisterously. Yes, to the misfits. Now that was something he could drink to. He answered Roxaria’s question by turning the tankard upside down, not even a drop fell from it. “Stronger the better! Dwarven stout it is!” Now this was more like it! Best way for a party to grow closer? Get absolutely smashed together!
“Self-taught! I’ve spent the last ten years with you lowlanders so I practice daily!” He gave Roxaria a big grin.
In his preparation, Reginald made sure that the silvered maul and other equipment the brought back was close by. "Might as well check everything at once", he thinks to himself. The gnome murmurs the detection ritual slowly, softly to himself. He unsheathes the dagger and examines it, in preparation for the second ritual if it (and any of the other equipment) happens to be imbued with mystic energies. The gnome admires the workmanship, thinking of the smiths of his clan. he checks to see if there is a maker's mark on the blade, which would give them a clue to the region it was made. If this was a magic item, there may be the mark of its creator somewhere on it also.
"Reginald IronCrag" the youngster thinks to himself, "If there is a curse on this dagger, you've surely fallen victim to it by now. No need to be cautious now!"
When he finally finishes the rituals, he announces to the group his findings on the objects in question.
(Awaiting DM's comment :)
Cats go Moo!
Reginald senses through his ritual that this is a magical +1 dagger.
(Arcana check please)
Roxaria smiles bigger now. The tension easing. She knows that it isn’t completely gone, but for now she can be agreeable with Trem. She thinks to herself, I can be more wary and not endanger the group. Put a little thought into your actions, Rox. I believe Trem won’t lie again. This is all a misunderstanding.
She looks to Vauthok, “Thank you, Vauthok. I just thought it would do us some good to acquire a relic.” She loosens the hair tie keeping her cerulean hair neatly up in a bun according to Glass Blade Dress and Appearance regulations. He runs her hand through her hair and lets it fall around her mid back before tying it up in a less conservative pony tail, sitting high on her head. Vauthok hands her a mug of dwarven stout and offers a salude, “Ten years drinking with lowlanders? Did your clansmen not challenge you enough?” Roxaria teasingly winks at him, “Seriously, lowlander drinking tolerance doesn’t seem like much competition for a Goliath like yourself. Surely you’ve done some quality drinking with your clan? Tribe? I’m not sure about how a Goliath lives in a community.”