The crew members of the Troubadour waste no time at all getting comfortable in their roles. A bald sailor named Talmar with silver piercings in his ears laughs at a passing comment through rotting teeth. "That's not 'ow I remember the tale!" He flutters his lashes and props his chin on the back of his hands, twiddling his fingers dramatically. "The way I remember the tellin', fair lass tamed the roiling loins."
Igor grins. "The finest and the fairest."
"Smitten. See. I told ye."
The banter continues like this for much of the way through the Lower City, casual, friendly… coded. You quickly realize that the crew of the Troubadour have developed a language all to themselves. Phrases like, The way I remember the tellin', is code for, No one is following us.
Skorbor though keeps his distance, eyes slowly taking in the scenery of the city, moving from side to side, a practiced urban hunter.
It is unfortunate that Symaliea slipped from Arutha's periphery and without a word describing her intent. The half-orc did warn you. Beautiful. Treacherous. Did he forget to add fiercely independent? Perhaps.
The stroll through the city is leisurely. The tension at the gate has all but vanished, and the numbers of people moving about bring a sense of normalcy to the day. The wagon train turns left onto Rotisserie Row. Known for the wide range of sauces, meats, pastries, breads, ales, milks, teas, coffees, both domestic and imported, the bustling street curves north then bends back east. You can't see the end of the road but you can see Symaliea 20 feet ahead talking to a street vendor, haggling over the price of his leather goods. She fumbles with a small coin purse, turning it over, examining its craftsmanship.
"Me." Kelten answers, eyes suddenly cold like a predator targeting prey.
Monduu catches on. "Who," he says in thieves cant.
"Wyrmhoof," Kelten replies back in code.
Gramdal can't help but arch a brow at such a sudden shift in Kelten's jovial demeanor. "Wyrmhoof? Your tail?" He'll reply in The Cant.
Regardless of the reply, Gramdal will nod. "So it's settled. Kelten, you'll lure our friend into our trap. Monduu and I'll be waiting to spring it. " He'll then sign in thieve's cant "Where?"
Eyes sharp as daggers, Kelten explains. "Wyrmhoof is a snitch. Vile gnome. He's Cenareon Bressh's most trusted, most lethal informant. Where Wyrmhoof is, his bodyguard are nearby. In the shadows. With the Cloaks."
A wicked grin plays on his face. "We could always start a brawl here, out in the open What say you, Gramdal?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Under normal circumstances, Gramdal does his best to divert attention away from himself. Cling to shadows. Stay in the periphery. However, circumstances as of late have been very much abnormal. So he nods "Aye. I reckon a bar brawl might do the trick" He looks around. Does he see any particularly surly looking person who is also drunk? You know, the type more amiable to fisticuffs?
Indeed, Gramdal, you spot a large human. Thick. Corded muscles. Grizzly. His leathers are filthy. He looks to be the type of character that might spend time cleaning the webs of his toes with drow. If he wasn't polishing the floor with vomitus. Uncivilized barbarian.
Gramdal takes a big chug of his drink and plant the mug back down. “I hope you’re ready, lads...” he says before he slips away. With nary a word, he makes his way to the brute, and then jabs a couple of thick dwarves fingers into his shoulder. “Ey, ya mouth breathin’, milk drinkin’, tart eatin’, pixie lovin’, baby faced, posy pickin’, pansy!” And then he’ll slap to the ground whatever mug of drink the guy has....and immediately take the dodge action.
Arutha continues to watch the traffic for any potential dangers but also takes note of Symaliea's actions once he catches sight of her. Curious what her game is he watches her for a second before continuing his scan of the crowds. He always feels a little tense when in crowded environments. The use of his swords are always more challenging in closed places.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
OOC: Can i give Cath the help action for his persuasion check?
Yes.
OOC: So I got lost on this a bit. I rolled a 4 for persuasion, but he offered help so I roll with advantage. So do you wish me to make a second roll and you'll use the higher roll to see if we can get Kaiylin the job?
I might have fallen asleep at the wheel on that one myself. LOL. Unless you rolled a 1 for the original roll, the result is a success.
Grip is a friendly gnome, and keeps his options open for adventurers; he was an adventurer himself. Persuading him won't take much, which is why it's so easy. The question is: Does he have room, and if so, is he willing to bring her on? You are rolling for that.
"Ish yer arm az confiden' as yer mouth," the barbarian manages to say at Gramdal. He slides out of his chair like a gelatinous cube, staring you down with glassy eyes. He squints, looks to your right. Your left. "How many o' ye are there? An' whuh busin'ss do ye want wiff Klarr!"
You have four people seated nearby. Either one of them looks to be the type of customer who prefers not to be disturbed. But this is a taproom, and you are about to roll initiative with a barbarian—a very drunk barbarian.
Gramdal puts his fists up like a boxer. He bounces on his feet, ready to duck and weave. He knows he’s no good fist-to-fist against this guy. So, he will feign a swing and miss, but what he’s really doing is preparing to Dodge.
The chair misses! The dwarf ducks outs of the way, and rolls to one side, only then to spring back up. Since Gramdal was ready to dodge out of the way, can the chair smash into another drunkard and bring them into the fight? “Ha! Me Great Grandma swings better than that!” He’ll take the Dodge action again.
I might have fallen asleep at the wheel on that one myself. LOL. Unless you rolled a 1 for the original roll, the result is a success.
Grip is a friendly gnome, and keeps his options open for adventurers; he was an adventurer himself. Persuading him won't take much, which is why it's so easy. The question is: Does he have room, and if so, is he willing to bring her on? You are rolling for that.
Although your intent is good Cath, your attempts at Persuasion are, shall we say, not very persuasive. in fact you couldn't persuade a rock to roll. Well, maybe.
"No time for talking!" Grip shouts. "Why are you here? What are ye celebrating? A long lost map, perhaps? You unearthed buried treasure?" He pulls up a chair another paying customer was reaching for and spins it under his rump. "A fine tall waits a toast!"
The chair misses! The dwarf ducks outs of the way, and rolls to one side, only then to spring back up. Since Gramdal was ready to dodge out of the way, can the chair smash into another drunkard and bring them into the fight? “Ha! Me Great Grandma swings better than that!” He’ll take the Dodge action again.
Naturally. This wouldn't be a bar fight with flying furniture. :D
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
The crew members of the Troubadour waste no time at all getting comfortable in their roles. A bald sailor named Talmar with silver piercings in his ears laughs at a passing comment through rotting teeth. "That's not 'ow I remember the tale!" He flutters his lashes and props his chin on the back of his hands, twiddling his fingers dramatically. "The way I remember the tellin', fair lass tamed the roiling loins."
Igor grins. "The finest and the fairest."
"Smitten. See. I told ye."
The banter continues like this for much of the way through the Lower City, casual, friendly… coded. You quickly realize that the crew of the Troubadour have developed a language all to themselves. Phrases like, The way I remember the tellin', is code for, No one is following us.
Skorbor though keeps his distance, eyes slowly taking in the scenery of the city, moving from side to side, a practiced urban hunter.
Symaliea is—gone.
Make a Perception check.
Perception 10
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
It is unfortunate that Symaliea slipped from Arutha's periphery and without a word describing her intent. The half-orc did warn you. Beautiful. Treacherous. Did he forget to add fiercely independent? Perhaps.
The stroll through the city is leisurely. The tension at the gate has all but vanished, and the numbers of people moving about bring a sense of normalcy to the day. The wagon train turns left onto Rotisserie Row. Known for the wide range of sauces, meats, pastries, breads, ales, milks, teas, coffees, both domestic and imported, the bustling street curves north then bends back east. You can't see the end of the road but you can see Symaliea 20 feet ahead talking to a street vendor, haggling over the price of his leather goods. She fumbles with a small coin purse, turning it over, examining its craftsmanship.
She shakes it twice.
Contest my Stealth roll, please.
Gramdal can't help but arch a brow at such a sudden shift in Kelten's jovial demeanor. "Wyrmhoof? Your tail?" He'll reply in The Cant.
Regardless of the reply, Gramdal will nod. "So it's settled. Kelten, you'll lure our friend into our trap. Monduu and I'll be waiting to spring it. " He'll then sign in thieve's cant "Where?"
Eyes sharp as daggers, Kelten explains. "Wyrmhoof is a snitch. Vile gnome. He's Cenareon Bressh's most trusted, most lethal informant. Where Wyrmhoof is, his bodyguard are nearby. In the shadows. With the Cloaks."
A wicked grin plays on his face. "We could always start a brawl here, out in the open What say you, Gramdal?
Under normal circumstances, Gramdal does his best to divert attention away from himself. Cling to shadows. Stay in the periphery. However, circumstances as of late have been very much abnormal. So he nods "Aye. I reckon a bar brawl might do the trick" He looks around. Does he see any particularly surly looking person who is also drunk? You know, the type more amiable to fisticuffs?
Perception check, if needed: 17
Indeed, Gramdal, you spot a large human. Thick. Corded muscles. Grizzly. His leathers are filthy. He looks to be the type of character that might spend time cleaning the webs of his toes with drow. If he wasn't polishing the floor with vomitus. Uncivilized barbarian.
Gramdal takes a big chug of his drink and plant the mug back down. “I hope you’re ready, lads...” he says before he slips away. With nary a word, he makes his way to the brute, and then jabs a couple of thick dwarves fingers into his shoulder. “Ey, ya mouth breathin’, milk drinkin’, tart eatin’, pixie lovin’, baby faced, posy pickin’, pansy!” And then he’ll slap to the ground whatever mug of drink the guy has....and immediately take the dodge action.
Perception: 7
Arutha continues to watch the traffic for any potential dangers but also takes note of Symaliea's actions once he catches sight of her. Curious what her game is he watches her for a second before continuing his scan of the crowds. He always feels a little tense when in crowded environments. The use of his swords are always more challenging in closed places.
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
OOC: So I got lost on this a bit. I rolled a 4 for persuasion, but he offered help so I roll with advantage. So do you wish me to make a second roll and you'll use the higher roll to see if we can get Kaiylin the job?
I might have fallen asleep at the wheel on that one myself. LOL. Unless you rolled a 1 for the original roll, the result is a success.
Grip is a friendly gnome, and keeps his options open for adventurers; he was an adventurer himself. Persuading him won't take much, which is why it's so easy. The question is: Does he have room, and if so, is he willing to bring her on? You are rolling for that.
"Ish yer arm az confiden' as yer mouth," the barbarian manages to say at Gramdal. He slides out of his chair like a gelatinous cube, staring you down with glassy eyes. He squints, looks to your right. Your left. "How many o' ye are there? An' whuh busin'ss do ye want wiff Klarr!"
You have four people seated nearby. Either one of them looks to be the type of customer who prefers not to be disturbed. But this is a taproom, and you are about to roll initiative with a barbarian—a very drunk barbarian.
Here we go! ((Gulp))
Barfight Initiative: 20
Klarr rolls initiative. 11
Gramdal puts his fists up like a boxer. He bounces on his feet, ready to duck and weave. He knows he’s no good fist-to-fist against this guy. So, he will feign a swing and miss, but what he’s really doing is preparing to Dodge.
"Ye dance like an elf." Klarr grabs for a chair, and swings. The fool has had too many mugs of ale. He may miss. Attack: 10 Damage: 4
The chair misses! The dwarf ducks outs of the way, and rolls to one side, only then to spring back up. Since Gramdal was ready to dodge out of the way, can the chair smash into another drunkard and bring them into the fight? “Ha! Me Great Grandma swings better than that!” He’ll take the Dodge action again.
Persuasion with advantage: 1 3
Although your intent is good Cath, your attempts at Persuasion are, shall we say, not very persuasive. in fact you couldn't persuade a rock to roll. Well, maybe.
"No time for talking!" Grip shouts. "Why are you here? What are ye celebrating? A long lost map, perhaps? You unearthed buried treasure?" He pulls up a chair another paying customer was reaching for and spins it under his rump. "A fine tall waits a toast!"
Naturally. This wouldn't be a bar fight with flying furniture. :D