Despite landing a solid blow on Taban, the two follow-up jabs he returned with caught Merrick by suprise with how weighty and painful they landed. He could feel his muscles ache with blazing hot pain as the punches left marks that likely won't go away by morning. Quickly realizing he might be outmatched, Merrick searches for a source of inspiration.
Merrick approached Master Rhurker in the training area after his initial preparations for the training were complete. This was now the second month of his secret meetings and he could feel his talents growing despite the dull aching left in his body each morning after. Squaring up with Master Rhurker, Merrick brings his legs together and bows politely. Like a flash, Master Rhurker descended upon him, slipping his arm underneath the firbolg's bowed head, twisting, and throwing Merrick to the floor from a headlock with relative ease.
"Number one problem all students face..." Master Rhurker began to say as the firbolg looked up in a stunned expression, "...Is expecting every fight to be fair. You do not ask the wyrm to consider decorum and let you finish your kata, hm?"
Master Rhurker laughs as he gestures with his hands for Merrick to stand up, "Heh heh, you will learn in time, Merrick. If both of us were in a fair fight with a dragon, the dragon would certainly destroy us..." Rhurker smiles, "That gives us very little incentive to fight fair, hm?"
As the fog comes into being, the words of Master Rhurker ring true in Merrick's mind. I need to turn these odds in our favor, he thought. He felt his adrenaline kick in as he pushed his immediate pain aside to get back into his topsy-turvey stance. From here, he began his gambit.
Bonus Action: Step of the Wind to Disengage
Merrick moves away from Taban and towards the crowd.
Improvise an action: Merrick attempts to move into the crowd of onlookers and "accidentally" shove them into the ring with Taban. Goal is to get them engaged with Taban to turn this from a duel into an all out brawl.
(Not sure how you'd like me to roll, but here is an athletics check to shove: 10)
Sayax acquiesces and nods to Vlad's suggestion on waiting for the others to go shopping. "We are to meet them at the Thundering Lizard, yes? Did we want to try and talk to any of our top picks for guides before we meet the rest or wait until we meet with them? I'm good either way."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(If that shove works. Ashtear will be joining in. I'll spoiler it. Ignore if the shove doesn't work out in midst of the smoke.
Smoke flies, vision obscures. Ashtear tries her best to keep track of her cohorts in the newly spun chaos but finds little purchase in her endevours. Instead she retains her defense in the chaos trying to figure out whats going on.
As smokes and people yelp and brawl. She feels someone shoved into area randomly and with great surprise. She reacts and decks the poor fellow and gives a shout "WEIRDO! BAR FIGHT! BASTARDS!" and continues swinging and shoving folks.
(Was somewhat close to the fight, and if Merrick is shoving into the brawling area. Its probably fairly close to me. I'm going to roll and attack and roll a 50/50. If it works out. I'll attack either the pushed person or the gladiator with a slug~)
Oranir nods at Vladimir, "Indeed, we could arrange for the innkeepers to get word to them, but no guarantees that the encounter would be as convenient than the one with Musharib, who was already there."
Chaos ensues. Taban calls out in surprise as his next swing connects with air. The hapless onlookers pushed into the circle by Ashtear and Merrick stumble through Laderan's conjured fog. It is difficult to tell, but judging from the confused grunts and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, it seems they stumbled into Taban. Others join in the fight, some jeering gleefully. It seems you have bought yourselves a narrow window of opportunity through which escape might be possible...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ashtear shouts out with an inflection of panic "Holy sh*t Holy sh*t. Hey. Who took my wallet. Ah! Who touched my leg. I'm gonna beat all of you!" Ashtear attempts to lie....
and then run away in the chaos, hopefully with what might be considered excusable instances.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
With Ashtear's cries adding to the confusion Laderan realizes that he has lost any chance to lift Taban's purse as the scene devolves into chaos. He moves away from the fight, up the street towards the edge of the fog and beyond into clear air. Not really knowing what to do now, he reaches his hand back inside the hazy nimbus and draws in more magic, the loose pebbles, and dirt quickly compacting at his fingertips before he releases the biggest sucker-punch of his life blindly back into the fray, aiming it as close to the centre as he can guess at. He continues to hurry away, spying Ashtear and heading her way, quickly summing up the utter failure, "Probably best we don't drink here again..."
Action: Eldritch Blast Attack: 9 Damage: 13 + 1 bludgeoning. Anyone hit is knocjed 10ft away.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Merrick grins as the crowd joins in on the melee and admires the ensuring fracas. He had no idea now where Taban was, and that was a good thing as Taban likely had no idea where he was. Stepping deftly to avoid confrontation with any new participants, Merrick listens for any sign of his companions.
Passive Perception 15 or Perception Roll to hear Ashtear/Laderan: 16
(If he doesn't hear them, Merrick will exit the cloud and try to find a vantage point where he can spot them.)
(If he finds either of them:)
Merrick speeds over to the others, grins again anf raises his arm to scratch his hair. He instantly regrets this, as he immediately winces in pain from the bruised ribs given to him from Taban. Gritting his teeth, he regards his companions in a rushed tone, "Erm... I think that's enough, ummm... excitement for one day. Shall we head back to see the others, hm?"
Luck is on your side, as you are able to dash down a side allow without being followed. At least as far as you can tell...
The doors of The Thundering Lizard are open, as ever, directly off from the Red Bazaar. The atmosphere of the chaotic market extends throughout the inn. Patrons include a diverse mixture of local Chultans and travelers from afar. Many stand outside the doors, watching the hustle and bustle of the bazaar in the early evening air.
The main area is split across two levels, the front containing a long bar with a colorful awning, the rear an area of cushions from which the thick smoke of hookah bellows.
Dinner service is in full swing, as waiters carry trays of delectable meat skewers and fruits around to tables.
Signs posted around the establishment advertise an upcoming event. The one and only Volothamp Geddarm is going to be holding an event performing readings from his book, Volo’s Guide to Monsters.
For now, the stage is occupied by a gnome guitar player and a dwarven woman who all but bleats out the words to a series of offensive limericks.
The group finds each other arriving at about the same time.
"Volothamp? Volo? I've heard of him. Some colleagues remarked his writing as insufferably flamboyant and brimming with allegorical references not necessarily pertaining to the truth... But then again, I've never read them myself. Any of you familiar?" the elf sighs as he approaches the establishment, stretching to peek over the heads and as he spots his companions, Oranir points and beckons the others over as he tries to make his way through the crowd and reach them, "We meet once again, friends! A productive afternoon, I presume? We definitely have much to report and discuss, care to find a table and do it over some mugs?" the elf raises his hand and tries to get the attention of one of the attendants nearby, pointing at the tables nearby and his own group in sequence, then returning his attention to the others "So, much learning about the races and its great beasts?"
As Vladimir enters the Thundering Lizard, he immediately shudders. It is, once again, too crowded and noisy for him to truly relax. And that woman singing! Her voice is atrocious, like scraping one’s fingernails on a slate. Her diction was unbearable, slurred, barely understandable, too many gutturals and not quite enough vowels. And the verse! Low, gruesome, and vile. And he doesn’t believe it’s possible to do that with a buckler, no matter how many oozes are involved. The bizarre litany of foul language and impossible humanoid behavior, as well as the remarkably skilled guitar player, has him captivated. He is so absorbed he is having trouble following what is being said. “Yes,” he says, “did Volo race a dinosaur?”
Merrick returns Oranir's greetinds and shares his own with the others. It felt like an age ago when they had last seen one another, given the events from the day. He smiles, trying hard to not wince at the pain he still felt in his abdomen, and tries to speak over the din of the establishment, "Erm... Yes! And it is good to see you again Oranir, Vladimir, and Sayax. I would, ummm... definitely like to take you up on that offer for the mugs," Merrick's head swivels as a tray of freshly roasted meat brimming with juices and smells is carried by him, "And, uhhh, some meat too, hm?"
Settling down at the table, he beckons a server for a frothy mug of the local Nyanzeru specialty and starts off sharing his information. "Erm... so, uhhhh... we did manage to learn about the races. And about the locals,"he smiles and looks at his ribs, then blushes when he realizes no one gets what he is referring to, "I think, erm... there's some unfair business surrounding the betting. Is that right Laderan and Ashtear?"
He pauses, then brightens up as he remembers an important detail, "Oh! Erm... There's an event too that's being held in two days. It's the, ummm... Nanaboos Hacka? Ninibus Hala? Erm... no wait, the Na N’buso’s Haka. Seems like it would be something we could join in, erm.. if we wanted to."
"An event?"Oranir narrows his eyes at Merrick, then his attention is brought to Vladimir, "You misunderstand, friend. Volo is actually a..." and to the arriving waiter, "Oh! Good evening. Um... Let's have a cask of tej and a tray of quippers and chips for starters..." he looks at the others inquiringly, "Reasonable?" then nods at the waiter. He shifts in his seat and leans in hoping to be heard over the buzz, "So indeed there is something about the races, then? Interesting, that's a great opportunity for us to earn some gratitude from the powerful local figure that is that Merchant Prince, and maybe get us something in return that will help in the expedition as we depart. But what about this other event you mention? What kind of event?"
Oranir wipes the sweat on his brow with his sleeve, and takes a sip from his waterskin, "Well, we have had some interesting encounters ourselves. We visited the temple of Savras, the deity of divination and prophecy, that was after one of the acolytes of the temple stumbling upon us in the street and speaking some ominous words to our friend Vladimir." the elf takes a moment to eye Vladimir and check if the paladin has any comments on that event, "The head of the temple, an old man known as Grandfather Zitembe, promised us he would meditate on the matter and may have some guidance for us tomorrow, so we'll probably me returning there briefly at some point. After that, some other acolyte of the temple also managed to grab our attention, she ended up offering to accompany us on the expedition, even promising to contribute in a hefty sum of gold if we allow." after briefly stopping to check the reactions on that, the elf continues, "Also did some research on the jungle guides..."Oranir takes a moment to rummage through his sidebag and produce various partially ripped crumpled parchments with drawings and writing ((#library)), which he spread over the table, "not the most pleasant bunch, many of them sound like, going by the words these have to share on one another. However, I'm sure we can narrow it down to some viable options. I'm particularly fond of Eku and Azaka, even though we have personally met only the local dwarf Musharib." the elf takes a breather and leans back on his chair, looking around to see if the appetizers are coming or not, "Oh, yes! We've also taken the liberty of arranging for our lodging on Kaya's House of Repose. We shared the idea that its more relaxing and luxurious accomodations will be greatly enjoyed in anticipation of a number of... tendays? Months? In the jungle."
Sayax greets the other members of their team warmly as they all rejoin and head into the loud and boisterous Thundering Lizard. He chuckles to himself as he watches Vlad cringe at the atmosphere and is glad they went with the other Inn.
"Merrick, you seem to be wincing a bit, something happen?" Sayax asks once Oranir fills them in with a good summary of what they had been up to so far.
At the mention of his name Vladimir starts and says, "There was a man, named Eshek, who told us to look for the wise guardian of Orolunga, east of Mbala, which he then didn't remember telling us, which was strange. Then we talked to a priest of Savras, who didn't tell us anything useful. But then we met a nice woman, who is going to come with us, named Inete. We might fight some wizards. And then we found the most remarkable inn. It is quiet and peaceful. Not like...this...racket..." And he's gone. Listening to the dwarf again.
Oranir sighs and nods at Vladimir's mentions of "wizards", "Some wizards... Red-robed ones." he eyes the others briefly before continuing, "Not that I've had any particular experience with those, but their infamy is pretty far-reaching."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Listening to Oranir, Merrick can't help but feel a little intimidated by all of the activity that the other half of the party accomplished. What with meeting the local priests, investigating the jungle guides, receiving omens, finding luxurious accomodations, ordering quippers and chips with tej, it all began to make his head spin. He'd have to try and cover for his half, at least show them that they had pulled their weight too.
Merrick responds to Oranir's questioning of the event, "Erm... Yes, it is truly a, ummm.. grand event to take place. The locals call it,"He tries to remember the name, "The grand king's sore trance... uhh, floor stance... I mean, war dance." He avoids making eye contact at his obvious bumbling of the event's name, "There's both a derby and the actual race itself on the following day. It, erm... took much researching but after tedious and, uhhh.. lenghty investigation, we were able to confirm that others may join the second race."
The quippers and chips arrived with the tej. As the server passed out mugs, Merrick made a hand gesture towards the pitchers sitting atop the bar. As the aerver gave a puzzled look, Merrick coughed, "Erm... to pour from the keg?"It was a bad lie, but his thirst got the better of him.
As he turned back to the table, Merrick gives a pained smile to Sayax. Not wanting to detail the trouble that the crew had gotten into and ruin his guise about their productivity, he replies softly, "Erm... oh, I was, ummm... meditating... hard."
(Deception contested check for anyone using insight against my little white lie. Merrick doesn't want to go into details about the little bar brawl they may havd started: 3)
Merrick coughs again to cover his ruse and continues, "Erm... we also found out some interesting, uhhh.. details about the races and other matters. The locals speak of the racers with the most outlandish odds somehow, ummm... winning against those same odds. The payout, they say, is unbelievable, and so too are the, uhhh.. coincidental demises of the winning dinosaur days later."
Feeling satisfied with his investigative reporting, he suavely grabs a plate and begins to scoop fried quipper and hot slices of chips onto it. Stuffing a piece of fish in his mouth, he realized he forgot one last detail, "*Munch* Oh, erm... and *crunch* the locals aren't too happy about *chew chew* the yuan-ti and grung being back *gulp* in the city, hm?"
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Despite landing a solid blow on Taban, the two follow-up jabs he returned with caught Merrick by suprise with how weighty and painful they landed. He could feel his muscles ache with blazing hot pain as the punches left marks that likely won't go away by morning. Quickly realizing he might be outmatched, Merrick searches for a source of inspiration.
Merrick approached Master Rhurker in the training area after his initial preparations for the training were complete. This was now the second month of his secret meetings and he could feel his talents growing despite the dull aching left in his body each morning after. Squaring up with Master Rhurker, Merrick brings his legs together and bows politely. Like a flash, Master Rhurker descended upon him, slipping his arm underneath the firbolg's bowed head, twisting, and throwing Merrick to the floor from a headlock with relative ease.
"Number one problem all students face..." Master Rhurker began to say as the firbolg looked up in a stunned expression, "...Is expecting every fight to be fair. You do not ask the wyrm to consider decorum and let you finish your kata, hm?"
Master Rhurker laughs as he gestures with his hands for Merrick to stand up, "Heh heh, you will learn in time, Merrick. If both of us were in a fair fight with a dragon, the dragon would certainly destroy us..." Rhurker smiles, "That gives us very little incentive to fight fair, hm?"
As the fog comes into being, the words of Master Rhurker ring true in Merrick's mind. I need to turn these odds in our favor, he thought. He felt his adrenaline kick in as he pushed his immediate pain aside to get back into his topsy-turvey stance. From here, he began his gambit.
Bonus Action: Step of the Wind to Disengage
Merrick moves away from Taban and towards the crowd.
Improvise an action: Merrick attempts to move into the crowd of onlookers and "accidentally" shove them into the ring with Taban. Goal is to get them engaged with Taban to turn this from a duel into an all out brawl.
(Not sure how you'd like me to roll, but here is an athletics check to shove: 10)
Sayax acquiesces and nods to Vlad's suggestion on waiting for the others to go shopping. "We are to meet them at the Thundering Lizard, yes? Did we want to try and talk to any of our top picks for guides before we meet the rest or wait until we meet with them? I'm good either way."
Vladimir asks, "Do we know where to find them?"
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
(If that shove works. Ashtear will be joining in. I'll spoiler it. Ignore if the shove doesn't work out in midst of the smoke.
Smoke flies, vision obscures. Ashtear tries her best to keep track of her cohorts in the newly spun chaos but finds little purchase in her endevours. Instead she retains her defense in the chaos trying to figure out whats going on.
As smokes and people yelp and brawl. She feels someone shoved into area randomly and with great surprise. She reacts and decks the poor fellow and gives a shout "WEIRDO! BAR FIGHT! BASTARDS!" and continues swinging and shoving folks.
(Was somewhat close to the fight, and if Merrick is shoving into the brawling area. Its probably fairly close to me. I'm going to roll and attack and roll a 50/50. If it works out. I'll attack either the pushed person or the gladiator with a slug~)
21To Hit. for 2 damage.
2 1 - gladiator 2 poor villager.
Oranir nods at Vladimir, "Indeed, we could arrange for the innkeepers to get word to them, but no guarantees that the encounter would be as convenient than the one with Musharib, who was already there."
Art Portfolio
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
Chaos ensues. Taban calls out in surprise as his next swing connects with air. The hapless onlookers pushed into the circle by Ashtear and Merrick stumble through Laderan's conjured fog. It is difficult to tell, but judging from the confused grunts and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, it seems they stumbled into Taban. Others join in the fight, some jeering gleefully. It seems you have bought yourselves a narrow window of opportunity through which escape might be possible...
Ashtear shouts out with an inflection of panic "Holy sh*t Holy sh*t. Hey. Who took my wallet. Ah! Who touched my leg. I'm gonna beat all of you!" Ashtear attempts to lie....
and then run away in the chaos, hopefully with what might be considered excusable instances.
Deception 19+1
Stealth 14
With Ashtear's cries adding to the confusion Laderan realizes that he has lost any chance to lift Taban's purse as the scene devolves into chaos. He moves away from the fight, up the street towards the edge of the fog and beyond into clear air. Not really knowing what to do now, he reaches his hand back inside the hazy nimbus and draws in more magic, the loose pebbles, and dirt quickly compacting at his fingertips before he releases the biggest sucker-punch of his life blindly back into the fray, aiming it as close to the centre as he can guess at. He continues to hurry away, spying Ashtear and heading her way, quickly summing up the utter failure, "Probably best we don't drink here again..."
Action: Eldritch Blast Attack: 9 Damage: 13 + 1 bludgeoning. Anyone hit is knocjed 10ft away.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
(Ashtear does not see that Laderan just murdered some nobody :p)
Merrick grins as the crowd joins in on the melee and admires the ensuring fracas. He had no idea now where Taban was, and that was a good thing as Taban likely had no idea where he was. Stepping deftly to avoid confrontation with any new participants, Merrick listens for any sign of his companions.
Passive Perception 15 or Perception Roll to hear Ashtear/Laderan: 16
(If he doesn't hear them, Merrick will exit the cloud and try to find a vantage point where he can spot them.)
(If he finds either of them:)
Merrick speeds over to the others, grins again anf raises his arm to scratch his hair. He instantly regrets this, as he immediately winces in pain from the bruised ribs given to him from Taban. Gritting his teeth, he regards his companions in a rushed tone, "Erm... I think that's enough, ummm... excitement for one day. Shall we head back to see the others, hm?"
(Merrick joins the others in fleeing the scene)
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
Luck is on your side, as you are able to dash down a side allow without being followed. At least as far as you can tell...
The doors of The Thundering Lizard are open, as ever, directly off from the Red Bazaar. The atmosphere of the chaotic market extends throughout the inn. Patrons include a diverse mixture of local Chultans and travelers from afar. Many stand outside the doors, watching the hustle and bustle of the bazaar in the early evening air.
The main area is split across two levels, the front containing a long bar with a colorful awning, the rear an area of cushions from which the thick smoke of hookah bellows.
Dinner service is in full swing, as waiters carry trays of delectable meat skewers and fruits around to tables.
Signs posted around the establishment advertise an upcoming event. The one and only Volothamp Geddarm is going to be holding an event performing readings from his book, Volo’s Guide to Monsters.
For now, the stage is occupied by a gnome guitar player and a dwarven woman who all but bleats out the words to a series of offensive limericks.
The group finds each other arriving at about the same time.
(Actions?)
"Volothamp? Volo? I've heard of him. Some colleagues remarked his writing as insufferably flamboyant and brimming with allegorical references not necessarily pertaining to the truth... But then again, I've never read them myself. Any of you familiar?" the elf sighs as he approaches the establishment, stretching to peek over the heads and as he spots his companions, Oranir points and beckons the others over as he tries to make his way through the crowd and reach them, "We meet once again, friends! A productive afternoon, I presume? We definitely have much to report and discuss, care to find a table and do it over some mugs?" the elf raises his hand and tries to get the attention of one of the attendants nearby, pointing at the tables nearby and his own group in sequence, then returning his attention to the others "So, much learning about the races and its great beasts?"
Art Portfolio
As Vladimir enters the Thundering Lizard, he immediately shudders. It is, once again, too crowded and noisy for him to truly relax. And that woman singing! Her voice is atrocious, like scraping one’s fingernails on a slate. Her diction was unbearable, slurred, barely understandable, too many gutturals and not quite enough vowels. And the verse! Low, gruesome, and vile. And he doesn’t believe it’s possible to do that with a buckler, no matter how many oozes are involved. The bizarre litany of foul language and impossible humanoid behavior, as well as the remarkably skilled guitar player, has him captivated. He is so absorbed he is having trouble following what is being said. “Yes,” he says, “did Volo race a dinosaur?”
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Merrick returns Oranir's greetinds and shares his own with the others. It felt like an age ago when they had last seen one another, given the events from the day. He smiles, trying hard to not wince at the pain he still felt in his abdomen, and tries to speak over the din of the establishment, "Erm... Yes! And it is good to see you again Oranir, Vladimir, and Sayax. I would, ummm... definitely like to take you up on that offer for the mugs," Merrick's head swivels as a tray of freshly roasted meat brimming with juices and smells is carried by him, "And, uhhh, some meat too, hm?"
Settling down at the table, he beckons a server for a frothy mug of the local Nyanzeru specialty and starts off sharing his information. "Erm... so, uhhhh... we did manage to learn about the races. And about the locals," he smiles and looks at his ribs, then blushes when he realizes no one gets what he is referring to, "I think, erm... there's some unfair business surrounding the betting. Is that right Laderan and Ashtear?"
He pauses, then brightens up as he remembers an important detail, "Oh! Erm... There's an event too that's being held in two days. It's the, ummm... Nanaboos Hacka? Ninibus Hala? Erm... no wait, the Na N’buso’s Haka. Seems like it would be something we could join in, erm.. if we wanted to."
A waiter shows you to your seats and passes out scribed copies of the venue's colorful menu (See Discord #library). "What'll it be?" he asks brightly.
"An event?" Oranir narrows his eyes at Merrick, then his attention is brought to Vladimir, "You misunderstand, friend. Volo is actually a..." and to the arriving waiter, "Oh! Good evening. Um... Let's have a cask of tej and a tray of quippers and chips for starters..." he looks at the others inquiringly, "Reasonable?" then nods at the waiter. He shifts in his seat and leans in hoping to be heard over the buzz, "So indeed there is something about the races, then? Interesting, that's a great opportunity for us to earn some gratitude from the powerful local figure that is that Merchant Prince, and maybe get us something in return that will help in the expedition as we depart. But what about this other event you mention? What kind of event?"
Oranir wipes the sweat on his brow with his sleeve, and takes a sip from his waterskin, "Well, we have had some interesting encounters ourselves. We visited the temple of Savras, the deity of divination and prophecy, that was after one of the acolytes of the temple stumbling upon us in the street and speaking some ominous words to our friend Vladimir." the elf takes a moment to eye Vladimir and check if the paladin has any comments on that event, "The head of the temple, an old man known as Grandfather Zitembe, promised us he would meditate on the matter and may have some guidance for us tomorrow, so we'll probably me returning there briefly at some point. After that, some other acolyte of the temple also managed to grab our attention, she ended up offering to accompany us on the expedition, even promising to contribute in a hefty sum of gold if we allow." after briefly stopping to check the reactions on that, the elf continues, "Also did some research on the jungle guides..." Oranir takes a moment to rummage through his sidebag and produce various partially ripped crumpled parchments with drawings and writing ((#library)), which he spread over the table, "not the most pleasant bunch, many of them sound like, going by the words these have to share on one another. However, I'm sure we can narrow it down to some viable options. I'm particularly fond of Eku and Azaka, even though we have personally met only the local dwarf Musharib." the elf takes a breather and leans back on his chair, looking around to see if the appetizers are coming or not, "Oh, yes! We've also taken the liberty of arranging for our lodging on Kaya's House of Repose. We shared the idea that its more relaxing and luxurious accomodations will be greatly enjoyed in anticipation of a number of... tendays? Months? In the jungle."
Art Portfolio
Sayax greets the other members of their team warmly as they all rejoin and head into the loud and boisterous Thundering Lizard. He chuckles to himself as he watches Vlad cringe at the atmosphere and is glad they went with the other Inn.
"Merrick, you seem to be wincing a bit, something happen?" Sayax asks once Oranir fills them in with a good summary of what they had been up to so far.
At the mention of his name Vladimir starts and says, "There was a man, named Eshek, who told us to look for the wise guardian of Orolunga, east of Mbala, which he then didn't remember telling us, which was strange. Then we talked to a priest of Savras, who didn't tell us anything useful. But then we met a nice woman, who is going to come with us, named Inete. We might fight some wizards. And then we found the most remarkable inn. It is quiet and peaceful. Not like...this...racket..." And he's gone. Listening to the dwarf again.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Oranir sighs and nods at Vladimir's mentions of "wizards", "Some wizards... Red-robed ones." he eyes the others briefly before continuing, "Not that I've had any particular experience with those, but their infamy is pretty far-reaching."
Art Portfolio
Listening to Oranir, Merrick can't help but feel a little intimidated by all of the activity that the other half of the party accomplished. What with meeting the local priests, investigating the jungle guides, receiving omens, finding luxurious accomodations, ordering quippers and chips with tej, it all began to make his head spin. He'd have to try and cover for his half, at least show them that they had pulled their weight too.
Merrick responds to Oranir's questioning of the event, "Erm... Yes, it is truly a, ummm.. grand event to take place. The locals call it," He tries to remember the name, "The grand king's sore trance... uhh, floor stance... I mean, war dance." He avoids making eye contact at his obvious bumbling of the event's name, "There's both a derby and the actual race itself on the following day. It, erm... took much researching but after tedious and, uhhh.. lenghty investigation, we were able to confirm that others may join the second race."
The quippers and chips arrived with the tej. As the server passed out mugs, Merrick made a hand gesture towards the pitchers sitting atop the bar. As the aerver gave a puzzled look, Merrick coughed, "Erm... to pour from the keg?" It was a bad lie, but his thirst got the better of him.
As he turned back to the table, Merrick gives a pained smile to Sayax. Not wanting to detail the trouble that the crew had gotten into and ruin his guise about their productivity, he replies softly, "Erm... oh, I was, ummm... meditating... hard."
(Deception contested check for anyone using insight against my little white lie. Merrick doesn't want to go into details about the little bar brawl they may havd started: 3)
Merrick coughs again to cover his ruse and continues, "Erm... we also found out some interesting, uhhh.. details about the races and other matters. The locals speak of the racers with the most outlandish odds somehow, ummm... winning against those same odds. The payout, they say, is unbelievable, and so too are the, uhhh.. coincidental demises of the winning dinosaur days later."
Feeling satisfied with his investigative reporting, he suavely grabs a plate and begins to scoop fried quipper and hot slices of chips onto it. Stuffing a piece of fish in his mouth, he realized he forgot one last detail, "*Munch* Oh, erm... and *crunch* the locals aren't too happy about *chew chew* the yuan-ti and grung being back *gulp* in the city, hm?"