It’s been a long godsdamn day having traveled in miserable winter weather on a rut-filled, icy road that splits the Parchwood forest. The Parchwood Timberlands cover the valley beneath the Alabaster Sierras. The foliage of the forest is thick, and many pathways that traverse it are overgrown but the Parchwood Way is the most direct route the party has followed to Drynna. The forest road has been buffeted by cold winds and heavy snow often obscuring the path ahead. In the distance, wolves have been howling all day and hurried your steps allowing you all to reach Drynna at different times of that day depending on when/where you set out. All reached the Red Lady by early winter dusk. You and the rest of the party have been instructed to gather in the Red Lady Tavern and Inn to await further instruction. It was described to you as a uniquely red stone structure on the eastern edge of Drynna. Once inside it’s the usual crowd one might see in a slightly upscale tavern and inn. The clientele looks mostly local but for a few travelers dressed for the heavy winter weather spread throughout the nine tables of varying sizes on the first floor. One large hearth burns bright with a great pyre of logs. The hearth is large enough for a human man to stand in and keep the tavern cozy and warm.
There's a tall, slender, and gray-skinned half-orc with flaming red hair at the bar pulling ales. They have a jovial demeanor and a tusky-toothed smile. They speak animatedly in a husky tone to patrons at the bar while a group of servers of varying species fetch and carry for the tavern's other patrons seated at the other tables spread throughout the large open room. The half-orc's muscular arms as exposed and reveal scars of blackened skin that creep up to their elbows. Their forearms and hands seem to glow as if they have fiery embers in their veins! The half-orc woman seems to also give off a faint wisp of smoke but no one in the tavern seems fazed by the woman's slightly elemental appearance!
Casrian Dullgrave brushes snow from his hood and longcoat as he steps into the Red Lady. He appears to be a man somewhere in his early thirties, dark hair, and unremarkable features. A face easy to forget, a feature he is extremely proud of. ((I'll repost the photo when I get home from work))
He walks to the bar and taps two silver coins on the countertop. "An ale, please, and something warm," he says to the fiery Half-Orc working the bottles.
Casrian takes the opportunity to unsling his backpack to sit with it in front of him, protecting his few possessions. As he does, he scans the room, looking for Bazzura and anyone else of interest in the Inn.
Walking into the inn is a sight almost no-one had ever scene, a large bipedal insect. He is dressed very simply with a fur lined breeches and leather harness made to carry a large greataxe. His strangeness is only intensified by his four arms, the bottom left made out of metal up to the elbow. His chitinous hide is mostly black in color but seems to almost change in the light of the fire. He is almost armed to the teeth with a large greataxe across his back and several smaller hand axes at his hip.
Chak makes his way to a table and sits down, clearing away the others with his strange clacking noises as be tried to communicate. He pauses and grips the table. "I have not adjusted to the taboo you have of speaking mentally. If this is upsetting I apolize but I need meat and a large amount." He sends to the thoughts of half orc behind the bar.
Anon quietly enters the Red Lady, tapping snow off their boots on the way in. Immediately grateful for the warmth of the tavern compared to the cold snowy road. The slender Tiefling turns and briskly walks to the fireplace on the west side of the tavern, stretching out their arms to warm up their freezing hands. Their golden stripes across their face and spiral horns glinting in the fire's flickering light, casting golden shimmers across the tavern's wall and floor.
After the chill leaves Anon's bones, they lower their coat's hood and take a slow look around the tavern for Bazzura; their contact here in Drynna.
The door to the tavern opened and a cloaked figured strode in with wisps of wind and snowflakes in their wake. It pulled back its hood slightly and revealed a female face with soft features emblazoned upon purple skin decorated with odd whorls and swirls. Her opalescent eyes gazed over the common room as she pulled back her hood completely revealing a head of black ringlets that cascaded down over her shoulder. She shook her head to scatter the droplets of condensation that had collected in her hair and dripped down the red bone-like spikes that wreathed her head like a crown.
She strode confidently toward the bar and gave the bartender a smile. She swept her cloak back over her shoulder and took a seat, glancing at the bottles behind the half-orc woman. She reached down to her waist and tested the weight of her belt pouch. Not nearly as much coin as she had started with, but she should be able to afford a drink. She laid a gold coin on the bar.
"Good day, beautiful flame" ,she said in slightly accented Common, "how much of your good ale will this coin buy me?"
Casrian notices no finer details about the room or its patrons that his eyes and ears obverse. A couple of the tables are playing games of chance while others are nursing drinks and low conversations undetectable at Casrian's distance.
With a hood up the party doesn't notice the black-furred tabaxi watches each of them enter the tavern and he sighs to himself as you all scatter. Bazzura remains seated at his corner barstool always left vacant for the slender cat even in his absence.
"I am assuming these visitors are here to solve our little problem," Helvetta, the fire-touched half-orc bartender, begins with a smirk at Bazz but before the tabaxi can retort he watches Vetta's body tense then glare out at the bar looking around before she makes eye contact with Chak and nods. "Interesting crowd," she then hisses at Bazz before letting out a sharp whistle calling a server to the bar. "The interesting once just there," she beings gesturing at Chak as the half-elven server looks to where Vetta gestures, "take them a special," she instructs as the half-elf seems suspicious at first their eyes widen in curiosity looking at Chak.
"Right boss," the half-elven server says happily before disappearing into the kitchen behind the bar.
Pushing off his hood Bazz leans against the bar and stares down Calista after she lobs her compliments at Vetta and the tabaxi smirks.
"A gold will get you a pony keg of decent quality," Vetta replied to Calista with a tusky smile as her fiery appearance seems to glow literally at the compliments. "Three silver will get you a pint and if you're here to help I'd recommend the pint," the fiery half-orc explains gesturing at Bazz.
"Calista," Bazz asks the wizard with a cocked eyebrow and softened smirk. "I'll buy the pint. Join me," he adds gesturing for her to follow as he then gestures at the other party members to come to a table where Chak has chosen to sit.
OOC: Feel free to post at will.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Calista chuckled at the bartender then turned to face Bazz, looking them up and down. She smiled pleasently, her opalescent eyes scintillating in the light of the tavern. She tossed a last glance back at Vetta and shrugged.
"Perhaps another time, beautiful flame" ,she said, then turned back to Bazz, "I would be pleased to accept your offer, but you have me at a disadvantage, oh mysterious benefactor."
She followed him to the table and grinned toothily to the rest. She plopped into an empty chair and laced her fingers behind her head, leaning back slightly. She let her eyes take in each of them, lingering for a moment on Chak. She shrugged and addressed the table.
"I am Calista" ,she said, the grin still plastered on her face, "we are all here for the same purpose then?"
Upon seeing Bazz gesture for them to come sit, Anon will approach the table. Cautious of the insectoid, Anon gives him a wide berth and takes a seat opposite of Chak, keeping their gaze locked on the Barbarian in case of any sudden movements; leaving a clear path to the door, if need be, to flee. "I guess I'll introduce myself... I'm Anonymous, you may call my Anon. My talents include medicine and... healing magics." Anon cuts themself off from saying too much more before turning to Calista adding "I believe so, yes. I'd be happy to hear more on what we can do next to help out the situation." turning their attention to Bazz before falling silent, listening intently.
"I'm Bazzura. I'm the...liason to Westruun," Bazzura nods with a smile. "Each of you came highly recommended by our friends. I can appreciate traveling in this weather," he adds nodding each of you. "Calista, Anon," the tabaxi gestures at the two who spoke then turns to those remainingsilent at the table. "Please, introduce yourselves," he adds looking at Chak, Johymm, and Casrian.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Casrian sips a hot cider and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He meets everyone's eyes, looks away, and seems preoccupied with his steaming cup. He shrugs.
"Name's Casrian. I know people. How to find things they want to hide. How to hide things they want to find. I don't often get into fights, but I know how to fight to win."
"Got a spot of minor magics," he says. He casts prestidigitation on his cup and for a moment it looks made of bright gold. He casts the cantrip again and the image of a silver coin appears. He casts it a third time, and the coin falls off the cup and into his hand. When he opens it again, all illusions have disappeared.
"Not a proper spellcaster, you understand, but enough to get me in and out of trouble."
"Also, I got a bat," he says, opening his overcoat to reveal a small bat with big eyes. "Her name is Gurdy. Say hello, Gurdy."
Gurdy doesn't say anything, but nuzzles back into the warm coat. Casrian rolls his eyes and pats the bat fondly on the head.
"Thank you for this opportunity, Master Bazzura. Gurdy and I are at your service." Although Casrian says this casually, his shoulders are a little too tense, like someone trying to hide how eager they are to impress a prospective employer.
Chak gives each of his fleshy companions a once over, his mandables clacking but no voice comes from his mouth. Instead one at a time each of those sitting with will hear. "My name can not be pronounced in your language. I am called Chak by the one that fixed my arm. I was only recently made aware that those outside of the hive do not talk with their minds so I was told it is wise to apologize."
"I appreicate the enthusiasm of some of you to begin, " Bazz says just as the half-elf arrives with a second round of drinks and a steaming plate of various meats for Chak.
The half-elf places the plate before the insectoid with a curious smile before nodding to Bazz theb hustling off to other patrons calling her attention.
"Settle in and asks whatever questions you might have. We're waiting on a straggler. I just hope they haven't met an untimely end due to travelingin this weather," the tabaxi sighs. I've arranged a meeting with the survivor of the party the Lodge sent out to the lake which seems to be the epicenter of the disappearances. The Pelor temple isn't the easiest place to asks for favors and they protect their own," the tabaxi explains with a sigh. "So, what are your thoughts? I can't say we know much about whatever or whoever is responsible. It's been nearly a month since this all started and honestly if we don't sort it out fast this town will be overrun with people asking questions about how things are run," he adds smoothing the fur on his head ruffled by his hood.
Anon holds the hot cider in their hands but has hardly started drinking it when the second round of drinks are brought to the table. Embarrassed, the Teifling downs the first drink in quick succession of gulps. Then speaks up; “so no one else has questioned this survivor? Or is it that no one who has is sharing the information gleaned from them?” Anon ponders aloud.
Casrian nods to Anon. "That's a good question. And favors are favors; perhaps there is something we could do for the temple to ingratiate ourselves to them. We will need to speak with the survivor."
He turns to Bazz.
"Has there been anything else out of the ordinary happening? Other than folk being frightened, I mean. Any corpses shown up? Any unusual weather or odd omens?"
"They're not talking," Bazz replies to Anon. "My informant inside the temple says they've been asleep since frankly something sort of a resurrection," the tabaxi adds with a grimace. "When I go...if I go just let me," he adds quickly grasping what looks like a raven's head amulet absent-mindedly around their neck before tucking it away. "We could," Bazz then replies to Casrian. "They aren't uh in need for my fetching services. We could come up with an idea together to gain some favor with the Brightlord," they nodd. "As for strange happenings..." he pauses, "well now that you mention it the daily catches have dwindled considerably on top of fewer and fewer boats going out on the lake. I mean it's been mostly near the water that people have disappeared, " he explains. "But the lake is vast and Rootgarden Marsh beyond is even more dangerous..." they trail off in thought. "I am open to ideas from everyone, " he then says moments later. "I, myself, will avoid the water," the tabaxi shutters slightly. "That's where you all come in," he gestures to the group.
A green cloaked figure walks into the bar dusting the snow off himself. His hands move up to pull the hood down revealing a tanned human with short red hair, his beard coming in full matching the same color. The bow across his back and quiver showing wear give him off as a ranger. At his side rest two short swords.
He scans the building and notices the tabaxi and group at the table. He just walks over and smiles a cheerful grin “Apologies for being late. This weather could give a white dragon a run for its money.”
Chak moves to pull the large amount of food towards him, seeming to pause at it being cooked for several seconds. This did not last long before he tore into it, all four arms holding onto various food items. While it did not seem like attention was paid to what was being said, his eyes focused on whomever was speaking at the time. He stays silent for the time being, noticing that his own attempts to communicate as one did among his people had been ignored. It was strange as it was as normal to speaking among most other races within the hive.
Anon winces at Chak’s brutal behavior over his food, shielding their mug from food scraps flying about. When the green ranger approaches the table, Anon greets him with a short nod and a wave of their hand.
“Looks like we are all here, good.” Anon clasps their hands together “on the matter of the church; I could try talking to them as a fellow clergy member, while I’m not a worshipper of Palor I am still a cleric of the pantheon. Maybe if they knew we are here to help and that I am trustworthy, they will let us talk to this survivor.” After speaking for a bit, Anon leans their elbows against the table and places their clasped hands to their lips in silence.
Chak gives Anon a strange look but seems to shrug to himself as he goes back to his meal, silently watching those around him. Occasionally a few clacking noises can be heard as his mandibles click together. Before long he has finished his meal, placing his hand on the table and watching the others at the table closely.
"Stoneheart," Bazz replies as the ranger sits. "Glad to see the weather or the mysterious disappearances didn't befall you. Please everyone I believe a day's travel has tired all of you. Get some rest. If you want to discuss the task further I'll be around as will Vetta and Honor," Bazz points out a new individual, a tall and board shouldered birdlike figure with black-purplishinky feathers.
They arrive in the tavern shaking off snow. They're wearing the cloak and tunic of the city watch which is a dark navy and silver. The Eisfuura sets a large hammer on the ground by the bar as Vetta eager pulls a mug if ale for the harpy eagle like figure. The bird figure toasts the table but returns to Vetta's company.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
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It’s been a long godsdamn day having traveled in miserable winter weather on a rut-filled, icy road that splits the Parchwood forest. The Parchwood Timberlands cover the valley beneath the Alabaster Sierras. The foliage of the forest is thick, and many pathways that traverse it are overgrown but the Parchwood Way is the most direct route the party has followed to Drynna. The forest road has been buffeted by cold winds and heavy snow often obscuring the path ahead. In the distance, wolves have been howling all day and hurried your steps allowing you all to reach Drynna at different times of that day depending on when/where you set out. All reached the Red Lady by early winter dusk. You and the rest of the party have been instructed to gather in the Red Lady Tavern and Inn to await further instruction. It was described to you as a uniquely red stone structure on the eastern edge of Drynna. Once inside it’s the usual crowd one might see in a slightly upscale tavern and inn. The clientele looks mostly local but for a few travelers dressed for the heavy winter weather spread throughout the nine tables of varying sizes on the first floor. One large hearth burns bright with a great pyre of logs. The hearth is large enough for a human man to stand in and keep the tavern cozy and warm.
There's a tall, slender, and gray-skinned half-orc with flaming red hair at the bar pulling ales. They have a jovial demeanor and a tusky-toothed smile. They speak animatedly in a husky tone to patrons at the bar while a group of servers of varying species fetch and carry for the tavern's other patrons seated at the other tables spread throughout the large open room. The half-orc's muscular arms as exposed and reveal scars of blackened skin that creep up to their elbows. Their forearms and hands seem to glow as if they have fiery embers in their veins! The half-orc woman seems to also give off a faint wisp of smoke but no one in the tavern seems fazed by the woman's slightly elemental appearance!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Casrian Dullgrave brushes snow from his hood and longcoat as he steps into the Red Lady. He appears to be a man somewhere in his early thirties, dark hair, and unremarkable features. A face easy to forget, a feature he is extremely proud of. ((I'll repost the photo when I get home from work))
He walks to the bar and taps two silver coins on the countertop. "An ale, please, and something warm," he says to the fiery Half-Orc working the bottles.
Casrian takes the opportunity to unsling his backpack to sit with it in front of him, protecting his few possessions. As he does, he scans the room, looking for Bazzura and anyone else of interest in the Inn.
Perception: 13
Walking into the inn is a sight almost no-one had ever scene, a large bipedal insect. He is dressed very simply with a fur lined breeches and leather harness made to carry a large greataxe. His strangeness is only intensified by his four arms, the bottom left made out of metal up to the elbow. His chitinous hide is mostly black in color but seems to almost change in the light of the fire. He is almost armed to the teeth with a large greataxe across his back and several smaller hand axes at his hip.
Chak makes his way to a table and sits down, clearing away the others with his strange clacking noises as be tried to communicate. He pauses and grips the table. "I have not adjusted to the taboo you have of speaking mentally. If this is upsetting I apolize but I need meat and a large amount." He sends to the thoughts of half orc behind the bar.
After the chill leaves Anon's bones, they lower their coat's hood and take a slow look around the tavern for Bazzura; their contact here in Drynna.
The door to the tavern opened and a cloaked figured strode in with wisps of wind and snowflakes in their wake. It pulled back its hood slightly and revealed a female face with soft features emblazoned upon purple skin decorated with odd whorls and swirls. Her opalescent eyes gazed over the common room as she pulled back her hood completely revealing a head of black ringlets that cascaded down over her shoulder. She shook her head to scatter the droplets of condensation that had collected in her hair and dripped down the red bone-like spikes that wreathed her head like a crown.
She strode confidently toward the bar and gave the bartender a smile. She swept her cloak back over her shoulder and took a seat, glancing at the bottles behind the half-orc woman. She reached down to her waist and tested the weight of her belt pouch. Not nearly as much coin as she had started with, but she should be able to afford a drink. She laid a gold coin on the bar.
"Good day, beautiful flame" ,she said in slightly accented Common, "how much of your good ale will this coin buy me?"
Casrian notices no finer details about the room or its patrons that his eyes and ears obverse. A couple of the tables are playing games of chance while others are nursing drinks and low conversations undetectable at Casrian's distance.
With a hood up the party doesn't notice the black-furred tabaxi watches each of them enter the tavern and he sighs to himself as you all scatter. Bazzura remains seated at his corner barstool always left vacant for the slender cat even in his absence.
"I am assuming these visitors are here to solve our little problem," Helvetta, the fire-touched half-orc bartender, begins with a smirk at Bazz but before the tabaxi can retort he watches Vetta's body tense then glare out at the bar looking around before she makes eye contact with Chak and nods. "Interesting crowd," she then hisses at Bazz before letting out a sharp whistle calling a server to the bar. "The interesting once just there," she beings gesturing at Chak as the half-elven server looks to where Vetta gestures, "take them a special," she instructs as the half-elf seems suspicious at first their eyes widen in curiosity looking at Chak.
"Right boss," the half-elven server says happily before disappearing into the kitchen behind the bar.
Pushing off his hood Bazz leans against the bar and stares down Calista after she lobs her compliments at Vetta and the tabaxi smirks.
"A gold will get you a pony keg of decent quality," Vetta replied to Calista with a tusky smile as her fiery appearance seems to glow literally at the compliments. "Three silver will get you a pint and if you're here to help I'd recommend the pint," the fiery half-orc explains gesturing at Bazz.
"Calista," Bazz asks the wizard with a cocked eyebrow and softened smirk. "I'll buy the pint. Join me," he adds gesturing for her to follow as he then gestures at the other party members to come to a table where Chak has chosen to sit.
OOC: Feel free to post at will.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Calista chuckled at the bartender then turned to face Bazz, looking them up and down. She smiled pleasently, her opalescent eyes scintillating in the light of the tavern. She tossed a last glance back at Vetta and shrugged.
"Perhaps another time, beautiful flame" ,she said, then turned back to Bazz, "I would be pleased to accept your offer, but you have me at a disadvantage, oh mysterious benefactor."
She followed him to the table and grinned toothily to the rest. She plopped into an empty chair and laced her fingers behind her head, leaning back slightly. She let her eyes take in each of them, lingering for a moment on Chak. She shrugged and addressed the table.
"I am Calista" ,she said, the grin still plastered on her face, "we are all here for the same purpose then?"
Upon seeing Bazz gesture for them to come sit, Anon will approach the table. Cautious of the insectoid, Anon gives him a wide berth and takes a seat opposite of Chak, keeping their gaze locked on the Barbarian in case of any sudden movements; leaving a clear path to the door, if need be, to flee.
"I guess I'll introduce myself... I'm Anonymous, you may call my Anon. My talents include medicine and... healing magics." Anon cuts themself off from saying too much more before turning to Calista adding "I believe so, yes. I'd be happy to hear more on what we can do next to help out the situation." turning their attention to Bazz before falling silent, listening intently.
"I'm Bazzura. I'm the...liason to Westruun," Bazzura nods with a smile. "Each of you came highly recommended by our friends. I can appreciate traveling in this weather," he adds nodding each of you. "Calista, Anon," the tabaxi gestures at the two who spoke then turns to those remainingsilent at the table. "Please, introduce yourselves," he adds looking at Chak, Johymm, and Casrian.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Casrian sips a hot cider and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He meets everyone's eyes, looks away, and seems preoccupied with his steaming cup. He shrugs.
"Name's Casrian. I know people. How to find things they want to hide. How to hide things they want to find. I don't often get into fights, but I know how to fight to win."
"Got a spot of minor magics," he says. He casts prestidigitation on his cup and for a moment it looks made of bright gold. He casts the cantrip again and the image of a silver coin appears. He casts it a third time, and the coin falls off the cup and into his hand. When he opens it again, all illusions have disappeared.
"Not a proper spellcaster, you understand, but enough to get me in and out of trouble."
"Also, I got a bat," he says, opening his overcoat to reveal a small bat with big eyes. "Her name is Gurdy. Say hello, Gurdy."
Gurdy doesn't say anything, but nuzzles back into the warm coat. Casrian rolls his eyes and pats the bat fondly on the head.
"Thank you for this opportunity, Master Bazzura. Gurdy and I are at your service." Although Casrian says this casually, his shoulders are a little too tense, like someone trying to hide how eager they are to impress a prospective employer.
Chak gives each of his fleshy companions a once over, his mandables clacking but no voice comes from his mouth. Instead one at a time each of those sitting with will hear. "My name can not be pronounced in your language. I am called Chak by the one that fixed my arm. I was only recently made aware that those outside of the hive do not talk with their minds so I was told it is wise to apologize."
"I appreicate the enthusiasm of some of you to begin, " Bazz says just as the half-elf arrives with a second round of drinks and a steaming plate of various meats for Chak.
The half-elf places the plate before the insectoid with a curious smile before nodding to Bazz theb hustling off to other patrons calling her attention.
"Settle in and asks whatever questions you might have. We're waiting on a straggler. I just hope they haven't met an untimely end due to travelingin this weather," the tabaxi sighs. I've arranged a meeting with the survivor of the party the Lodge sent out to the lake which seems to be the epicenter of the disappearances. The Pelor temple isn't the easiest place to asks for favors and they protect their own," the tabaxi explains with a sigh. "So, what are your thoughts? I can't say we know much about whatever or whoever is responsible. It's been nearly a month since this all started and honestly if we don't sort it out fast this town will be overrun with people asking questions about how things are run," he adds smoothing the fur on his head ruffled by his hood.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Anon holds the hot cider in their hands but has hardly started drinking it when the second round of drinks are brought to the table. Embarrassed, the Teifling downs the first drink in quick succession of gulps. Then speaks up; “so no one else has questioned this survivor? Or is it that no one who has is sharing the information gleaned from them?” Anon ponders aloud.
Casrian nods to Anon. "That's a good question. And favors are favors; perhaps there is something we could do for the temple to ingratiate ourselves to them. We will need to speak with the survivor."
He turns to Bazz.
"Has there been anything else out of the ordinary happening? Other than folk being frightened, I mean. Any corpses shown up? Any unusual weather or odd omens?"
"They're not talking," Bazz replies to Anon. "My informant inside the temple says they've been asleep since frankly something sort of a resurrection," the tabaxi adds with a grimace. "When I go...if I go just let me," he adds quickly grasping what looks like a raven's head amulet absent-mindedly around their neck before tucking it away. "We could," Bazz then replies to Casrian. "They aren't uh in need for my fetching services. We could come up with an idea together to gain some favor with the Brightlord," they nodd. "As for strange happenings..." he pauses, "well now that you mention it the daily catches have dwindled considerably on top of fewer and fewer boats going out on the lake. I mean it's been mostly near the water that people have disappeared, " he explains. "But the lake is vast and Rootgarden Marsh beyond is even more dangerous..." they trail off in thought. "I am open to ideas from everyone, " he then says moments later. "I, myself, will avoid the water," the tabaxi shutters slightly. "That's where you all come in," he gestures to the group.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
A green cloaked figure walks into the bar dusting the snow off himself. His hands move up to pull the hood down revealing a tanned human with short red hair, his beard coming in full matching the same color. The bow across his back and quiver showing wear give him off as a ranger. At his side rest two short swords.
He scans the building and notices the tabaxi and group at the table. He just walks over and smiles a cheerful grin “Apologies for being late. This weather could give a white dragon a run for its money.”
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
Chak moves to pull the large amount of food towards him, seeming to pause at it being cooked for several seconds. This did not last long before he tore into it, all four arms holding onto various food items. While it did not seem like attention was paid to what was being said, his eyes focused on whomever was speaking at the time. He stays silent for the time being, noticing that his own attempts to communicate as one did among his people had been ignored. It was strange as it was as normal to speaking among most other races within the hive.
Anon winces at Chak’s brutal behavior over his food, shielding their mug from food scraps flying about. When the green ranger approaches the table, Anon greets him with a short nod and a wave of their hand.
“Looks like we are all here, good.” Anon clasps their hands together “on the matter of the church; I could try talking to them as a fellow clergy member, while I’m not a worshipper of Palor I am still a cleric of the pantheon. Maybe if they knew we are here to help and that I am trustworthy, they will let us talk to this survivor.” After speaking for a bit, Anon leans their elbows against the table and places their clasped hands to their lips in silence.
Chak gives Anon a strange look but seems to shrug to himself as he goes back to his meal, silently watching those around him. Occasionally a few clacking noises can be heard as his mandibles click together. Before long he has finished his meal, placing his hand on the table and watching the others at the table closely.
"Stoneheart," Bazz replies as the ranger sits. "Glad to see the weather or the mysterious disappearances didn't befall you. Please everyone I believe a day's travel has tired all of you. Get some rest. If you want to discuss the task further I'll be around as will Vetta and Honor," Bazz points out a new individual, a tall and board shouldered birdlike figure with black-purplishinky feathers.
They arrive in the tavern shaking off snow. They're wearing the cloak and tunic of the city watch which is a dark navy and silver. The Eisfuura sets a large hammer on the ground by the bar as Vetta eager pulls a mug if ale for the harpy eagle like figure. The bird figure toasts the table but returns to Vetta's company.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.