Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
"Just the goodest fluffy boy," Ember whispers at the familiar, holding out her fire-free hand so he can climb back up.
The little wizard, who is quite averse to water and baths in general (especially with no adult to force her to bathe), seems quite at home in the stink of the sewers. She does her best to follow along quietly behind her two companions, though pauses on the bridge to squint down into the murky water of the canal before continuing.
As you follow the direction pointed out by the squirrel familiar, you try your best to remain discreet and make as little noise as possible. For the two unarmored members of the group, it’s fairly easy to stay silent, but the gnomish warrior’s armor clinks and clanks with every step, the sound amplified slightly by the acoustic of the tunnel.
After a few minutes of walking, you spot further ahead an opening in the wall on your right, just at the edge of the light produced by Ember’s flame. There seems to be a weak light shining inside the room it leads to, and noise coming within.
Ember extinguishes her own flame as the other light comes into view. "Should we take them by surprise?" she whispers, then inches closer to the hole in the wall to try and make out what the noise is.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The massive blonde bearded warrior nods to the little one below him. "They should get a chance to surrender themselves, but if they go for their weapons..."He whispers back with a grim face, leaving the last part unwhispered. He then focuses on trying to hear anything that might reveal what they will find ahead.
Perception: 4
(Thurodim can send Mr. Bleeches ahead to have a looksie, but Ember's squirrel is probably better at that? :-)
You recognize the noise as voices. You hear at least three different voices. However, you cannot understand what is being said, as none of you know that language. It is distinctively guttural, with several trilled sounds. Without a better look, it is difficult to get more details out of the situation.
"Aggie, can you check it out?" Ember whispers and nuzzles her cheek against the familiar on her shoulder. "We'll look together, yeah?"
As the squirrel heads off towards the room, Ember's eyes turn a cloudy white before they change to look exactly like Aganazzar's--dark and beady. She holds out a hand for one of her companions to take as she's rendered both deaf and blind, her senses now elsewhere.
((If needed for Aggie--Stealth: 12+5 17, Perception: 9+3 12))
Ozyre muses on the voices, his little linguist brain trying to remember what languages he doesn't know. "Hmm... could be Halfling or Elvish, but I doubt they would sound so guttural. Orcish comes to mind, and maybe even Draconic. Perhaps even extraplanar in origin, though that's starting to leave my field of expertise. Or, for all we know, this could be something much older. If this continent has a unique script, holds to reason it would have its own speech, too. Not sure how its native speakers would still be alive or why they're hanging out in the sewers, but that's not all that surprising, since I'm not sure on a slowly decreasing yet still rather large number of things."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
As her rodent familiar goes ahead to explore the room, Ember sees a large open chamber lightly lit by sunlight breaching through the holes of a manhole cover. Just like in the tunnels, the ceiling is about 8-9 feet tall. All throughout the chamber, there is refuse and scrap arranged to make some sort of miniature houses and buildings.
You then begin to perceive what you assume to be the occupants of these houses. You see about two dozens reptilian creatures scurrying about and performing various tasks. You would know these creatures as kobolds, small underground dwellers with a draconic lineage. They don’t seem to have noticed Aggie, being too busy taking care of their lair.
The massive blonde bearded warrior frowns slightly. "I could tell you stories about kobolds that will make you find them less cute little one. There is only one language these little vermin will understand." He quietly growls, readying himself to burst into the kobold lair.
"But, you know..." Ember starts, looking back in Aggie's direction, "a whole lotta people think Aggie and Mr. Bleeches are vermin types too. Sooo... maybe I could try, huh? I'm little like they are and I don't have nothin' sharp or smash-y so maybe I won't spook 'em."
"I can get back here reeeaaal quick if they get nasty."
((How much would you say Ember knows of kobolds, DM? Would she feel there is any possibility of having a peaceful encounter with them? Should've asked this BEFORE my response, but can change it if she'd actually think it's fruitless!))
The massive blonde bearded warrior's jaw clenches as he considers the little one's plan, and finally he reluctantly agrees with a small nod and a low deep grunt.
You would know quite a lot actually about kobolds. They are crafty, brave and resourceful. They never fully integrated to imperial society and often live marginally in packs of varying sizes. There not necessarily malevolent or wicked. They commonly hold a belief that the group is more important than the individual.
Ember smiles, wide and toothy, up at Big Man, then heads into the tunnel armed with ample knowledge about this marginalized species. Picking Aggie up along the way, she does her best to mimic a couple of the noises she heard the kobolds making so as not to scare them when she enters the lair.
Ozyre jumps in with something. "Just one idea before you hop off: if things don't seem to be going well, maybe try to summon some of that fire that you're so good at. I reckon there's a decent chance on account of their dragon-ish features they might like someone with that kind of power. Or maybe they'll enjoy the warmth. Or maybe they'll be afraid of it. Anyways, it'll have an effect. Or it won't and nothing will happen, which is why running is always a good option."
"Are kobolds cold-blooded? They're obviously reptilian, but they live underground.But they can probably make their own sources of warmth.But then why..."
(What would Ozyre roll to determine if kobolds are cold-blooded for no practical purpose whatsoever?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
As Ember comes up in the chamber and announces herself with an attempt to communicate with the kobolds, they turn suddenly to see what is happening, stopping whatever task they were working on. Much like a bunch of moles peaking their heads out of their holes, they stare at you with suspicion.
After a few seconds of confusion, one yells out a command to the rest in the weird language you heard, which the other kobolds yell back in echo. Some of them skitter away to go hide, while six of them run up to you, stopping about ten feet away and pointing makeshift spears at you in a unified coordination that reveals a very high level of discipline.
One other kobold, slightly taller than the rest and wearing a leather patch over one eye, approaches. His back is standing up straight and he carries a curved dagger to his side that looks like much better quality than the rest of the weapons on display. Speaking in common, he says:
"You are intruding on clan Swiftscale’s nest. Lay down your weapons and identify yourselves immediately, or face the consequences."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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As goes the massive warrior, so goes the miniscule one. He starts to regain his sight as he clink-clanks along in his armor
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
"Just the goodest fluffy boy," Ember whispers at the familiar, holding out her fire-free hand so he can climb back up.
The little wizard, who is quite averse to water and baths in general (especially with no adult to force her to bathe), seems quite at home in the stink of the sewers. She does her best to follow along quietly behind her two companions, though pauses on the bridge to squint down into the murky water of the canal before continuing.
((Stealth: 13+3 16))
As you follow the direction pointed out by the squirrel familiar, you try your best to remain discreet and make as little noise as possible. For the two unarmored members of the group, it’s fairly easy to stay silent, but the gnomish warrior’s armor clinks and clanks with every step, the sound amplified slightly by the acoustic of the tunnel.
After a few minutes of walking, you spot further ahead an opening in the wall on your right, just at the edge of the light produced by Ember’s flame. There seems to be a weak light shining inside the room it leads to, and noise coming within.
Ember extinguishes her own flame as the other light comes into view. "Should we take them by surprise?" she whispers, then inches closer to the hole in the wall to try and make out what the noise is.
The massive blonde bearded warrior nods to the little one below him. "They should get a chance to surrender themselves, but if they go for their weapons..." He whispers back with a grim face, leaving the last part unwhispered. He then focuses on trying to hear anything that might reveal what they will find ahead.
Perception: 4
(Thurodim can send Mr. Bleeches ahead to have a looksie, but Ember's squirrel is probably better at that? :-)
You recognize the noise as voices. You hear at least three different voices. However, you cannot understand what is being said, as none of you know that language. It is distinctively guttural, with several trilled sounds. Without a better look, it is difficult to get more details out of the situation.
"Aggie, can you check it out?" Ember whispers and nuzzles her cheek against the familiar on her shoulder. "We'll look together, yeah?"
As the squirrel heads off towards the room, Ember's eyes turn a cloudy white before they change to look exactly like Aganazzar's--dark and beady. She holds out a hand for one of her companions to take as she's rendered both deaf and blind, her senses now elsewhere.
((If needed for Aggie--Stealth: 12+5 17, Perception: 9+3 12))
Ozyre muses on the voices, his little linguist brain trying to remember what languages he doesn't know. "Hmm... could be Halfling or Elvish, but I doubt they would sound so guttural. Orcish comes to mind, and maybe even Draconic. Perhaps even extraplanar in origin, though that's starting to leave my field of expertise. Or, for all we know, this could be something much older. If this continent has a unique script, holds to reason it would have its own speech, too. Not sure how its native speakers would still be alive or why they're hanging out in the sewers, but that's not all that surprising, since I'm not sure on a slowly decreasing yet still rather large number of things."
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
The massive blonde bearded warrior shoots the diminutive giant a look of keep your musings down, keeping quiet while the squirrel scouts.
As her rodent familiar goes ahead to explore the room, Ember sees a large open chamber lightly lit by sunlight breaching through the holes of a manhole cover. Just like in the tunnels, the ceiling is about 8-9 feet tall. All throughout the chamber, there is refuse and scrap arranged to make some sort of miniature houses and buildings.
You then begin to perceive what you assume to be the occupants of these houses. You see about two dozens reptilian creatures scurrying about and performing various tasks. You would know these creatures as kobolds, small underground dwellers with a draconic lineage. They don’t seem to have noticed Aggie, being too busy taking care of their lair.
"It's kobolds!" Ember reports. "Aw, they're kinda cute. They have little hooouussess and they're just runnin' around and doin' stuff."
Retreating from Aggie's senses, she rubs at her eyes then looks up at the others. "Does anybody speak Draconic?"
The massive blonde bearded warrior frowns slightly. "I could tell you stories about kobolds that will make you find them less cute little one. There is only one language these little vermin will understand." He quietly growls, readying himself to burst into the kobold lair.
"But, you know..." Ember starts, looking back in Aggie's direction, "a whole lotta people think Aggie and Mr. Bleeches are vermin types too. Sooo... maybe I could try, huh? I'm little like they are and I don't have nothin' sharp or smash-y so maybe I won't spook 'em."
"I can get back here reeeaaal quick if they get nasty."
((How much would you say Ember knows of kobolds, DM? Would she feel there is any possibility of having a peaceful encounter with them? Should've asked this BEFORE my response, but can change it if she'd actually think it's fruitless!))
The massive blonde bearded warrior's jaw clenches as he considers the little one's plan, and finally he reluctantly agrees with a small nod and a low deep grunt.
(I would determine your level of familiarity with a History check. How much your roll will determine what you know.)
History: 17+3 Dirty 20
Ember
You would know quite a lot actually about kobolds. They are crafty, brave and resourceful. They never fully integrated to imperial society and often live marginally in packs of varying sizes. There not necessarily malevolent or wicked. They commonly hold a belief that the group is more important than the individual.
(Unless Ozyre wants to jump in with anything~)
Ember smiles, wide and toothy, up at Big Man, then heads into the tunnel armed with ample knowledge about this marginalized species. Picking Aggie up along the way, she does her best to mimic a couple of the noises she heard the kobolds making so as not to scare them when she enters the lair.
Ozyre jumps in with something. "Just one idea before you hop off: if things don't seem to be going well, maybe try to summon some of that fire that you're so good at. I reckon there's a decent chance on account of their dragon-ish features they might like someone with that kind of power. Or maybe they'll enjoy the warmth. Or maybe they'll be afraid of it. Anyways, it'll have an effect. Or it won't and nothing will happen, which is why running is always a good option."
"Are kobolds cold-blooded? They're obviously reptilian, but they live underground. But they can probably make their own sources of warmth. But then why..."
(What would Ozyre roll to determine if kobolds are cold-blooded for no practical purpose whatsoever?)
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
Ozyre: (Make a…nature Check? I guess xD)
As Ember comes up in the chamber and announces herself with an attempt to communicate with the kobolds, they turn suddenly to see what is happening, stopping whatever task they were working on. Much like a bunch of moles peaking their heads out of their holes, they stare at you with suspicion.
After a few seconds of confusion, one yells out a command to the rest in the weird language you heard, which the other kobolds yell back in echo. Some of them skitter away to go hide, while six of them run up to you, stopping about ten feet away and pointing makeshift spears at you in a unified coordination that reveals a very high level of discipline.
One other kobold, slightly taller than the rest and wearing a leather patch over one eye, approaches. His back is standing up straight and he carries a curved dagger to his side that looks like much better quality than the rest of the weapons on display. Speaking in common, he says:
"You are intruding on clan Swiftscale’s nest. Lay down your weapons and identify yourselves immediately, or face the consequences."