Walf nods his head "Tchotchkes.....Walf say....Ohh uhh...Shiny trinkets! Yes shiny old trinkets and uhhh" Walf points to his neck "Walf forget word....neck tchotchkes. Many shiny trinkets different trinkets" Walf motions to his neck and in a U shape down to his chest then back to his neck "Older than Walf."
(( lol - I'm so confused, isn't the chest inside the ring space with Adaban while he does yoga on it? If so, he'd definitely stop doing his 'mountain pose' at the suggestion the chest can cause the stone curse... ))
(Yes, the chest is inside the ring with Adaban. The contents of the chest have yet to be determined. Detect magic revealed a necromantic aura coming from the captain's quarters, attempt to enter was made, Stone cursed came running out, Durnir broke concentration when he went unconscious. Stone cursed were killed, black skull that popped out of the Stone cursed and hit Durnir were treated as the cursed stone (though not confirmed), Adaban went and got the chest, then went into his ring, and now you're all back here.
Ahryman nods as the lizardfolk explains. "So, how do you get the stone curse? Is there a risk the contents of that chest could spread the curse?"
Durnir says "Well you see, they are caused by artifacts. And I saw.... well, it was far away. I just assumed.... Hmm, you know what, I should probably check that. Don't bother me for a few minutes!"
Durnir will take out his shield and place it on his lap, then holds onto the amulet around his neck, as he begins to mutter. He start to ritually cast detect magic.
Ahryman's golden eyes curiously follows the first steps of the ritual performed by Durnir, fascinated by the magic he is about to perform, his tail moving with excitement in Ivy's embrace. "So, do you all wield magic?" He turns and asks Walf and Ivy, his golden eyes looking between mentor and disciple.
"Ow... Oh.. ahem... Cough cough. What was I saying. Oh yea. No magics here. Nope." Durnir stops his prayer and put's his shield back down. "Just, ahh, just praying to my god, to have a good meal, yup.... That's it. Good old Helm. Great god that one." Durnir realizes he should probably slow down on his drinking, before he starts throwing magic all over the place. One more mead, and that's it. Maybe two. "What were we talking about? Tchotchkies?"
Ivy plenty distracted with ‘their new’ tail, continues to hug it to themself. She absentmindedly pets it as their eyes dart around while listening to the others. An occasional coo or giggle would escape them, however she’d simply smile sweetly at Ahryman’s question. She had identified the curse but was wary about what she could freely talk about in an establishment with patrons that already picked a fight with them because they were different. Therefore, she didn’t fight the distractions, she embraced them.
Ivy then pops their nose into the air to sniff and huff. “Where’s that cheese!” She squirms, hankering for a snack. “please!” She adds with a bounce.
The blue-skinned cambion chuckles as the subject of magic is suddenly hushed down. This could not last though, magic needed to be free, free from the oppressive laws of man.
"I'm sure the cheese will be along soon my dear Ivy." He turns and says softly to the silver-haired half-elf still hanging on to his long blue tail, and he realiezes it didn't seem to mind the attention, coming to rest in her warm embrace.
Ahryman's golden eyes shoots Brynn a curious glance. "The gods, they seem to bother you, I'm sure you have your reasons to doubt them." He says, studying the mercenary with new interest.
The blue-skinned cambion smiles before speaking. "I admit not being particularly god-fearing myself, but I rather thought it was holy men of fear and distrust and not the gods themselves that seek to control the use of magics. No offense Durnir but it is my belief that many men of power, even those of creed, would use that power for their own petty needs, which is most often about staying in power and upholding strict rules to ensure nothing ever changes. What they fail to understand is that this will inevitably lead to uprisings against the oppressors."He explains in a calm voice.
Patricia makes her way back across the crowded tavern, her serving plate now empty, heading behind the bar through the swing door to a kitchen area.
There is a sudden commotion stirring across the room - raised voices and fists slamming on a table. Glancing over toward the sound, you would notice one of the gambling tables has a sore loser.
A human man with a plain bandana, scruff beard and worn overcoat stands up, pointing a finger at a human woman seated at the table. She wears a feathered cap over orange locks and a black and red doublet.
The voices in the crowd dull a bit as some take attention to the dispute, though many just give it just a passing glance and go back to their own recreation. You can hear a bit of what he's yelling, which seems to be a lazy scolding of words that includes 'cheat!', 'bullocks!' and 'fookin' *****!'.
The woman responds in a calm voice, one that you cannot hear, though you do hear a hearty laugh from the folks around that table that have turned their attention to it.
You see the man look around, and then throw his overcoat off - not taking whatever she said very well. He aggressively slides a chair out of his way as he tries to make his way over to the woman, but he is stopped by a fist from one of the men around the table. He staggers back, and a brawl begins. Some people step back to get out of the way, others join in.
In total, about 10-14 people are engaged in this brawl.
"Tchotchkies?" Brynn finishes his mead. Stares at the bottom of his glass then starts looking for Patricia
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Ahryman nods as the lizardfolk explains. "So, how do you get the stone curse? Is there a risk the contents of that chest could spread the curse?"
Walf nods his head "Tchotchkes.....Walf say....Ohh uhh...Shiny trinkets! Yes shiny old trinkets and uhhh" Walf points to his neck "Walf forget word....neck tchotchkes. Many shiny trinkets different trinkets" Walf motions to his neck and in a U shape down to his chest then back to his neck "Older than Walf."
(( lol - I'm so confused, isn't the chest inside the ring space with Adaban while he does yoga on it? If so, he'd definitely stop doing his 'mountain pose' at the suggestion the chest can cause the stone curse... ))
(Yes I think it is but someone mentioned having it...but i don't think we physically have it. As for it being cursed, we have no idea I don't think)
(Yes, the chest is inside the ring with Adaban. The contents of the chest have yet to be determined. Detect magic revealed a necromantic aura coming from the captain's quarters, attempt to enter was made, Stone cursed came running out, Durnir broke concentration when he went unconscious. Stone cursed were killed, black skull that popped out of the Stone cursed and hit Durnir were treated as the cursed stone (though not confirmed), Adaban went and got the chest, then went into his ring, and now you're all back here.
Durnir says "Well you see, they are caused by artifacts. And I saw.... well, it was far away. I just assumed.... Hmm, you know what, I should probably check that. Don't bother me for a few minutes!"
Durnir will take out his shield and place it on his lap, then holds onto the amulet around his neck, as he begins to mutter. He start to ritually cast detect magic.
(are you doing this with any amount of discretion? if so, give me a stealth check
Ahryman's golden eyes curiously follows the first steps of the ritual performed by Durnir, fascinated by the magic he is about to perform, his tail moving with excitement in Ivy's embrace. "So, do you all wield magic?" He turns and asks Walf and Ivy, his golden eyes looking between mentor and disciple.
Walf looks at Ivy and kicks Durnir under the table “Magics?! Walf No know Magics”
"Ow... Oh.. ahem... Cough cough. What was I saying. Oh yea. No magics here. Nope." Durnir stops his prayer and put's his shield back down. "Just, ahh, just praying to my god, to have a good meal, yup.... That's it. Good old Helm. Great god that one." Durnir realizes he should probably slow down on his drinking, before he starts throwing magic all over the place. One more mead, and that's it. Maybe two. "What were we talking about? Tchotchkies?"
Brynn had physically tensed when Durnir started his gesturing but is seeming to relax eyes darting around the crowd. "Helm?"
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Walf coughs "Ghost man have chest. Ghost man poof with chest. Ghost man name Adaban. Durnir Dwarf God in sky Helm"
Ivy plenty distracted with ‘their new’ tail, continues to hug it to themself. She absentmindedly pets it as their eyes dart around while listening to the others. An occasional coo or giggle would escape them, however she’d simply smile sweetly at Ahryman’s question. She had identified the curse but was wary about what she could freely talk about in an establishment with patrons that already picked a fight with them because they were different. Therefore, she didn’t fight the distractions, she embraced them.
Ivy then pops their nose into the air to sniff and huff. “Where’s that cheese!” She squirms, hankering for a snack. “please!” She adds with a bounce.
just an unstable unicorn.
Brynn scoffs at Walfs answer. "Hmmph Of course. Gods" he mutters lowly
Laissez les bons temps rouler
The blue-skinned cambion chuckles as the subject of magic is suddenly hushed down. This could not last though, magic needed to be free, free from the oppressive laws of man.
"I'm sure the cheese will be along soon my dear Ivy." He turns and says softly to the silver-haired half-elf still hanging on to his long blue tail, and he realiezes it didn't seem to mind the attention, coming to rest in her warm embrace.
Ahryman's golden eyes shoots Brynn a curious glance. "The gods, they seem to bother you, I'm sure you have your reasons to doubt them." He says, studying the mercenary with new interest.
He lowers himself in the chair. "All they do is cause trouble fer people dealing with this supposed magik n what is right n wrong to them"
Laissez les bons temps rouler
The blue-skinned cambion smiles before speaking. "I admit not being particularly god-fearing myself, but I rather thought it was holy men of fear and distrust and not the gods themselves that seek to control the use of magics. No offense Durnir but it is my belief that many men of power, even those of creed, would use that power for their own petty needs, which is most often about staying in power and upholding strict rules to ensure nothing ever changes. What they fail to understand is that this will inevitably lead to uprisings against the oppressors." He explains in a calm voice.
Patricia makes her way back across the crowded tavern, her serving plate now empty, heading behind the bar through the swing door to a kitchen area.
There is a sudden commotion stirring across the room - raised voices and fists slamming on a table. Glancing over toward the sound, you would notice one of the gambling tables has a sore loser.
A human man with a plain bandana, scruff beard and worn overcoat stands up, pointing a finger at a human woman seated at the table. She wears a feathered cap over orange locks and a black and red doublet.
The voices in the crowd dull a bit as some take attention to the dispute, though many just give it just a passing glance and go back to their own recreation. You can hear a bit of what he's yelling, which seems to be a lazy scolding of words that includes 'cheat!', 'bullocks!' and 'fookin' *****!'.
The woman responds in a calm voice, one that you cannot hear, though you do hear a hearty laugh from the folks around that table that have turned their attention to it.
You see the man look around, and then throw his overcoat off - not taking whatever she said very well. He aggressively slides a chair out of his way as he tries to make his way over to the woman, but he is stopped by a fist from one of the men around the table. He staggers back, and a brawl begins. Some people step back to get out of the way, others join in.
In total, about 10-14 people are engaged in this brawl.
Walf snorts at the commotion. He lets our a quiet little yelp at the sight of sweet rolls hitting the floor