This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Neya takes a bowl and looks over Ms. Green her eyes fall on the bone hairpin. She fights the urge to take out the one she has in the bag of holding to try and compare. Instead, she tries to rely on her memory.
@Utar: Once you decide not to trust your eyes, your nose begins to pull a double shift. You indeed pick up on the sweet scents of onions, carrots, and other root vegetables, as well as some rosemary or thyme. You inhale again, trying to identify the other scents that are fighting back your exploratory venture. Oh, there is some meat here too; some pork judging by the fatty aroma, though the meat itself looks fairly lean. It also smells a bit irony, so there is a chance that Ms. Green likes to add some minerals/rocks to her boiling stew to add those earthy tones you were enjoying earlier. OR perhaps...
@Neya: You look again at her hair-do: her hair is tied back in a neat bun held in place with a foot-long bone hair pin. You can visualize that pin in your bag. The one she wears is identical to that which was recovered from Rerk in Kabel's Hill. Could she have been gifted one as well, or...
While the group stares at their food, Denae tries to cut the silence with a mundane-sounding question: "So, Ms. Green, have you been living here for long?" The old lady turns to face the half-elf, laughs softly and pleasantly, and then dismisses the question: "We'll talk of those things after we've eaten, dearie."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"'Ms. Green'."Said Doozey in ready agreement with a nod and an apologetic smile. Seeing her then hustle back inside her home, a gnawing temptation to try and quietly follow nearly compells the halfling into motion. Wary, however, of triggering some unseen ward or worse in doing so, the stoutling tempers the desire, and joins Utar by the far looking conflicted. Of course the moment he hears the elder return he's quick to again to put back on the mask of an appreciative guest, and accepted the offering without initial question.
Biscuit unhesitatingly digs into his bowl. Doozey tries, but can't quite fully hide a frown a little seeing the act. He then looks to his bowl, not really examining it like Utar, but staring with his face scrunched up as if in deep contemplation. "I-I-"He starts, looking up once more at the elder with another apologetic expression. "Appreciate the hospitality, Ms. Green. But, I dare not partake in any meal just yet, least it at, well.... at worse come right back out at this current juncture -- part of the reason why I sought your council, in fact."Doozey turns to the woman to explain. "Please, if you would but indulge at least a questions three of mines, these tangled bundle of nerves of mines might be settled enough to finally partake in a meal proper, eh?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Taking another long sniff of the stew, Utar focusses on those scents that don't quite appear to be what he's expecting. After all, having dined at the Tea Kettle, the fest hall with Dornal Whitebeard no less, not to mention the cookings of Mar and now their kobold housekeeper! And while he doesn't quite consider himself a gourmand, it is clear his palatte is somewhat more refined now than it was when he was getting by on rations and on the simple fare cooked at the House of the Hand.
Pushing his sense of smell as far as it can go in identifying the mystery odours, Utar tries to push his mind against what he experiencing in order to attempt to see what is really there and is being hidden.
(OOC Obviously some kind of check is needed but I'm 100% on what it would be. I've settled on Insight to try and mentally push back on what Utar's senses are telling him to see what is really there but quite happy to roll something else or have that roll made by the DM if needed.)
@Utar: You push your senses aside, an effort that seems more arduous than it should be given the amount of meditative praying you have done in your career as a Tormite. The effort pays of, as, in your mind's eye, you notice that something is undoubtedly amiss with the fare. With that conviction reinstated, you reopen your eyes and look closer at the meal within your bowl. Although that floating corn kernel maintains its yellow tone, albeit with a more pale hue, it hardens in constitution and shifts in shape to reveal itself as a humanoid tooth. You had initially considered yourself lucky with a serving blessed by a boiled quail egg. That delicious morsel now looks less oval and more spherical. A lifeless iris turns into view as the eye bobs in the broth.
Ms. Green looks somewhat convinced by Doozey's plea: "Hmmm... If you are promising you'll eat and not wound a lady's pride by refusing her hospitality, then I guess I can make some conversation in the meantime." That said, she still maintains her right to refuse answers: "But nothing too sassy or private. You must treat a lady first before navigating into those kinds of questions, young man."
Doozey lets out a sigh of relief, and yet just barely keeps himself from nodding in agreement. He hesitates to speak for a moment at first, and instead looked away with a faint scowl briefly taking root on his visage. But left to his own thoughts for barely a moment more, the stoutling takes a deep breath through the nose, and then lets it out slowly, steeling himself before turning on Jenny with a small but polite smile.
"I believe that be a fair exchange indeed, so long as we're limiting the meal to this current bowl full I have here." He says, raising the bowl up for a second in emphasis. "For even on a settled stomach, I'm afraid we wouldn't be able to tarry here for anything more."The stoutling smile turns apologetic as he gives a little head bow. "But I digress! Hmm... uhmm... let's see... I have so many floating about in my noggin, but... yes... I think these will do."He says, seeming distracted at first, but ultimately finding his focus back on the present. "I suppose my first two questions would be, uhm... U-uhh... Well firstly, I have it on good authority-"He side-eyes the imp. "That a wayward kin of mines by the name of Halvin Redfoot came to these woods to seek you out in particular. And though I'm curious to know the ins and out of that conversation, that would be the height of rudeness to ask, I think. So instead I'll ask... Where is he now?"
"And as for my second one, what do you think it'll take to let bygones be bygones where it comes to the recent intrusion from outsiders of the forest and that of the denizens that call it home? A bold and broad question, I know. But, you strike as someone with the eye for that sort of thing, if not wonderful imagination for the, uhh... open-ended-ehh... inquiries." He asks of greenteeth.
Ms. Green nods along with Doozey's agreement of her terms, finding a nearby seat so she too can sit back for a while and enjoy a bowl of her own stew. As the halfling begins his, in her opinion, long-winded first question, the lady's eyes shift side to side, and her ears twitch for a fraction of a second. "Halvin came to visit a couple tendays ago. I was surprised to find out that he was a Redfoot. Like I said, I hadn't seen a Redfoot in a very long time. And here I am seeing my second one in just two tendays!" She smacks her own thighs while letting out a not-so-polite laugh. "I hadn't the foggiest notion of what he'd want with dear old me."
She then let's Doozey put forward his second question before speaking any further. "It is funny that you came here and are asking me this next question, considering your relative was here a couple of tendays ago asking exactly the opposite. Upon his visit, Halvin soon disclosed that he came to me to try to sway me to end the pact that binds the fey to Phlan's defense."She pauses then to allow herself to laugh at the duality of the two requests. Then, without any hesitation, pity, or repentance in her voice or mannerisms, the old lady returns to the first question proper: "Unlike you, Halvin was quite rude and unappreciative of my hospitality, so I killed him."
Anyone looking at Pipyap at this point notices that the imp has been too invested in devouring his bowl of stew to realize that a confession to his master's murder has been offered so nonchalantly.
"You know," she continues, "This wasn't the first time the pact has been broken. It was violated once when Lord Protector Talaric Daoran sent some men to chop down some of our trees. Then there was that whole deal with the dragon... But I shan't go into further detail about what happened in those cases; I won't trouble you with them."Her face then takes a more serious expression: "Now go on... ask you third question and then fulfill your part of the bargain. We can negotiate around the pact after that."
Utar suddenly realises he's beens looking a little too intently at his bowl but every few moments another horror floats to the surface, a tooth; an eyeball; a sausage that he realises is actually a finger. The half-orc turns a more pallid shade and swallows down on the bile rising in his throat.
Looking around the campfire Utar tries not to look to closely at the imp devouring his own bowl of stew and hopes that none of his other companions take a bite. Given he hasn't been paying total attention to the conversion between Doozey and Ms. Green, he puts his ears to use and tries to catch himself up.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doozey listened with rapt attention, and plainly so at that. But beyond such earnest interest left on full display, even grim confirmations seemingly fail to alter his demeanor. If anything, the stoutling looked almost unsurprised at the news. Maybe a touch disappointed, but little else more in the moment. The fact 'Ms. Green' fails to not quite answer his questions isn't lost to him either. Yet rather than double down and perhaps suffer a similar fate as his kin with such stubbornness, the stoutling took a moment to stare into his broth, and loose himself in thought.
"... Apologies, Ms. Greenteeth. That was a fair bit more to process than even I anticipated... a lot... lot more."He admits frankly, sighs softly, and then looks up to the woman -- the creature, meeting her gaze with weary but resolved one of his own. "I know not if there are other villagers yet in your company or among yer... 'collections'. But on the off chance that they are even if distantly so, my last question would be to thusly... To the best of your knowledge, where are the rest of the villagers that entered the forest?" He then, provided noone stop him, downed his bowl's contents in as much of one go as possible.
-Insight: 12. (Namely trying to discern if there's anything intentionally being left out in regards to his cousin.)
You notice that Ms. Green looks a bit unconformable, similar to when someone might be wearing clothes that don't quite fit them well. Other than that, and despite all of your suspicions, the person in front of you is a sweet, doting grandmother. If she is not that, then she must be quite the exceptional actor.
Doozey's next questions gets not only Ms. Green's attention, but also Utar's. She begins to reply: "The villagers were presumptuous indeed. They were foolish to think that they had permission to come into the forest. Four villagers showed up a tenday ago. They were more receptive of my hospitality, having run out of food a few days prior. Of the four, I sent one home as a warning to Kabel's Hill that further incursions would not be tolerated."Looking at you, and with a first instance of non-sweetness in her tone of voice, she adds: "Apparently they didn't get the message, though." She looks away for a moment before regaining her poise: "As for where they are now, well... hmm." She doesn't seem ready to divulge more details, but she begins to smile again.
Meanwhile, both Pipyap and Biscuit seem to be delighted by their respective meals.
@Doozey:
It is clear to you she is not willing to disclose the ultimate fate of Halvin and the others. She knows more than she is willing to reveal at this point.
"Not 'ours'. Mine."Doozey said only after practically knocking back the contents of his bowl, and putting on full display the uncanny gluttony of halflings. "Mm-Mm-Mn. That -- mn... that hit a spot." Biscuit barks happily in agreement, nearly prompting Doozey chide the mastiff.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Well, well... yes, yes, it was Redfoot's bargain to begin with, but I take my answers benefit all of you, so don't be shy and eat up." She looks at Neya, Denae and Utar, while pointing out that Doozey has been eating his portion as an example, and then adds: "Even if not a bargain, it is quite impolite to not partake at this point, don't you think?"
Denae looks at Neya for guidance. She is not surprised a badger and a mastiff would chow it down voraciously, but she is not so eager, and it looks like Neya isn't either.
(@Ori: Please give me a CON saving throw for Doozey and one for Biscuit. This does not count as being poisoned or frightened.)
"Hmmm, I am not so sure we all have entered into this bargain. Doozey has, sure and he's eaten his meal, asked questions and received answers. We simply overheard those answers. If they were meant to be private, you should have mentioned. Now, you have provided us with a meal, and by rights we should partake, however, I don't think that things are quite as they appear, at least not in these bowls anyway. I do not think you are are offering nourishment here. I think that in fact you are entertaining yourself and by extension inflicting disgust and misery on those sat around your campfire. I cannot speak for my friends, but my bowl contains a both a tooth and an eye. Presumably they are the rest of the villagers who came to you?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doozey Con Save(DC ??): 8.
Biscuit's Con Save(DC ??): 12. (If Biscuit would roll a 1, Doozey would use Bountiful luck to re-roll it)
Apart from a bit of brow furrowing and frowning, Doozey seemed relatively unsurprised at Utar's revelation finally coming to light. After all, it wasn't as if the soup was the party's first hag brew, though perhaps a touch more questionable given available ingredients of this particular hag. Biscuit, on the other hand, had truly been blissfully unaware, and it showed in his whimpering as he looked to the delicious smelling pot.
Hearing this, Doozey clicked his tongue to get Biscuit's attention, and motioned the beast over so he could idly pet and calm the beast down as much as possible. "It's alright, boy. There was no helping it."He whispered in Biscuit's ear, then turned back Greenteeth. "Though it could've been perhaps worded with a touch more grace, my companion here, ehhh... has the right of things, I think, for the most part." He conveyed calmly, though side-eyed Utar after that last point. "In fact, considering the 'unexpected nature of our visit', it could be considered ruder still for them to partake, considering this stew was presumably made without the intent of sharing in the first place."He adds with a half smile.
"But to be clear, the 'show' of hospitality is most appreciated by both myself and my companions here, of that I am certain."Doozey adds, gesturing to everyone else at the end. "And any presumptions spoken is merely the road weariness and poor night's sleep talking and shouldn't be taken too much to heart."Doozey is practically sweating beneath the collar after giving it his all to try and smooth things over. Or was it the effect of the stew causing that...
(OOC: And if another persuasion check is required, see spoiler. Otherwise if more appropriate should a check be called, the above can be considered Doozey aiding Utar.)
@Doozey: The stew is not bad tasting, but this is certainly a strange mixture of ingredients. There are too many flavors here, and the meat is too tough and chewy. As a lycanthrope (arkalothrope?), you have certainly eaten worse. After finishing your serving, you fell compelled to listen attentively to Ms. Green and agree with whatever she has to say. If you feel like offering arguments she might disagree with or you have requests of her, you can't help but doubt ahead of time if they are even worth mentioning out loud.
@Ori: Please see spoiler below.
In addition to being charmed by the lady of the house, you have disadvantage on CHA checks against her. This also applies to Biscuit. Pipyap miraculously saved.
"Yes, yes," Ms. Green waves Utar's concerns away. "A meal is a meal. Why bother if it has some perfectly good but uncommon bits in it? One shouldn't let perfectly good meat go to waste. Have you never killed a rabbit or deer for a campfire meal? Do you not order poultry or pork at your tavern of choice? Those men were dead the moment they entered this forest. If not us, they'd be nourishing a displacer beast or something else out there. Now, be a polite deary and eat your meal. It is just as nourishing and filling as any other stew. Just ask your friends." She waves to point out that Pipyap, Biscuit, and Doozey all seem not have wiped their bowls clean. "You came here to negotiate, did you not. We can do so amicably as soon as you finish your meal."
She turns to Doozey: "As for portion sizes and sharing..." She open a wide grin. "...I knew you were coming and prepared the meal accordingly." She gestures towards the bone pin stuck into her hair. "You did receive my gift after all, didn't you? Don't worry, I'll be sure to pay Serelis a thank-you visit later on."
"Again, there is no need we can't negotiate amicably." She repeats. "But I am only negotiating with those who accepted my hospitality." She points to the cook-pot and the bubbling stew.
(@Ori: She is not inclined to listen to Utar at the moment, so if you'd like to try to persuade her, please roll a second persuasion check, as per the spoiler above.)
"Hmm~ Ms. Green here does bring up many a fair point. 'cause less be honest here. They were never gonna survive in this forest, and all we all knew that. It would've been another story had they at least been accepted by the elves, mind'ja. But then, I suppose if'n my twice-damned and stupid kin succeeded at anything here, it was making sure to keep that option closed off." Doozey admits with a lazy grin, as some of the earlier tension in his shoulders and posture seemed to finally begin to melt away.
Biscuit lazily "Boofs" in agreement, then began hungrily eyeing the bowls of the other party members. "Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I don't understand why there's so much a fuss over a single bowl. Not like we hadn't had something similar in the past. Which reminds me, I really need to figure out their recipe, 'cause that was quite an invigorating meal." The stoutling confesses, eliciting another lackadasical "Boof~"from Biscuit, before the mastiff's head flops back down in the stoutling's lap.
Doozey then turns to Ms. Green and asks, "Say, how many of them did you use in that pot anyways? If'n ya don't mind me ask'n."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
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Neya takes a bowl and looks over Ms. Green her eyes fall on the bone hairpin. She fights the urge to take out the one she has in the bag of holding to try and compare. Instead, she tries to rely on her memory.
History: 20
Extended Signature
@Utar: Once you decide not to trust your eyes, your nose begins to pull a double shift. You indeed pick up on the sweet scents of onions, carrots, and other root vegetables, as well as some rosemary or thyme. You inhale again, trying to identify the other scents that are fighting back your exploratory venture. Oh, there is some meat here too; some pork judging by the fatty aroma, though the meat itself looks fairly lean. It also smells a bit irony, so there is a chance that Ms. Green likes to add some minerals/rocks to her boiling stew to add those earthy tones you were enjoying earlier. OR perhaps...
@Neya: You look again at her hair-do: her hair is tied back in a neat bun held in place with a foot-long bone hair pin. You can visualize that pin in your bag. The one she wears is identical to that which was recovered from Rerk in Kabel's Hill. Could she have been gifted one as well, or...
While the group stares at their food, Denae tries to cut the silence with a mundane-sounding question: "So, Ms. Green, have you been living here for long?" The old lady turns to face the half-elf, laughs softly and pleasantly, and then dismisses the question: "We'll talk of those things after we've eaten, dearie."
"'Ms. Green'." Said Doozey in ready agreement with a nod and an apologetic smile. Seeing her then hustle back inside her home, a gnawing temptation to try and quietly follow nearly compells the halfling into motion. Wary, however, of triggering some unseen ward or worse in doing so, the stoutling tempers the desire, and joins Utar by the far looking conflicted. Of course the moment he hears the elder return he's quick to again to put back on the mask of an appreciative guest, and accepted the offering without initial question.
Biscuit unhesitatingly digs into his bowl. Doozey tries, but can't quite fully hide a frown a little seeing the act. He then looks to his bowl, not really examining it like Utar, but staring with his face scrunched up as if in deep contemplation. "I-I-" He starts, looking up once more at the elder with another apologetic expression. "Appreciate the hospitality, Ms. Green. But, I dare not partake in any meal just yet, least it at, well.... at worse come right back out at this current juncture -- part of the reason why I sought your council, in fact." Doozey turns to the woman to explain. "Please, if you would but indulge at least a questions three of mines, these tangled bundle of nerves of mines might be settled enough to finally partake in a meal proper, eh?"
-Persuasion: 16. (if need be.)
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Taking another long sniff of the stew, Utar focusses on those scents that don't quite appear to be what he's expecting. After all, having dined at the Tea Kettle, the fest hall with Dornal Whitebeard no less, not to mention the cookings of Mar and now their kobold housekeeper! And while he doesn't quite consider himself a gourmand, it is clear his palatte is somewhat more refined now than it was when he was getting by on rations and on the simple fare cooked at the House of the Hand.
Pushing his sense of smell as far as it can go in identifying the mystery odours, Utar tries to push his mind against what he experiencing in order to attempt to see what is really there and is being hidden.
Insight - 15
(OOC Obviously some kind of check is needed but I'm 100% on what it would be. I've settled on Insight to try and mentally push back on what Utar's senses are telling him to see what is really there but quite happy to roll something else or have that roll made by the DM if needed.)
(@MB: Insight sounds reasonable to me.)
@Utar: You push your senses aside, an effort that seems more arduous than it should be given the amount of meditative praying you have done in your career as a Tormite. The effort pays of, as, in your mind's eye, you notice that something is undoubtedly amiss with the fare. With that conviction reinstated, you reopen your eyes and look closer at the meal within your bowl. Although that floating corn kernel maintains its yellow tone, albeit with a more pale hue, it hardens in constitution and shifts in shape to reveal itself as a humanoid tooth. You had initially considered yourself lucky with a serving blessed by a boiled quail egg. That delicious morsel now looks less oval and more spherical. A lifeless iris turns into view as the eye bobs in the broth.
Ms. Green looks somewhat convinced by Doozey's plea: "Hmmm... If you are promising you'll eat and not wound a lady's pride by refusing her hospitality, then I guess I can make some conversation in the meantime." That said, she still maintains her right to refuse answers: "But nothing too sassy or private. You must treat a lady first before navigating into those kinds of questions, young man."
Doozey lets out a sigh of relief, and yet just barely keeps himself from nodding in agreement. He hesitates to speak for a moment at first, and instead looked away with a faint scowl briefly taking root on his visage. But left to his own thoughts for barely a moment more, the stoutling takes a deep breath through the nose, and then lets it out slowly, steeling himself before turning on Jenny with a small but polite smile.
"I believe that be a fair exchange indeed, so long as we're limiting the meal to this current bowl full I have here." He says, raising the bowl up for a second in emphasis. "For even on a settled stomach, I'm afraid we wouldn't be able to tarry here for anything more." The stoutling smile turns apologetic as he gives a little head bow. "But I digress! Hmm... uhmm... let's see... I have so many floating about in my noggin, but... yes... I think these will do." He says, seeming distracted at first, but ultimately finding his focus back on the present. "I suppose my first two questions would be, uhm... U-uhh... Well firstly, I have it on good authority-" He side-eyes the imp. "That a wayward kin of mines by the name of Halvin Redfoot came to these woods to seek you out in particular. And though I'm curious to know the ins and out of that conversation, that would be the height of rudeness to ask, I think. So instead I'll ask... Where is he now?"
"And as for my second one, what do you think it'll take to let bygones be bygones where it comes to the recent intrusion from outsiders of the forest and that of the denizens that call it home? A bold and broad question, I know. But, you strike as someone with the eye for that sort of thing, if not wonderful imagination for the, uhh... open-ended-ehh... inquiries." He asks of greenteeth.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Ms. Green nods along with Doozey's agreement of her terms, finding a nearby seat so she too can sit back for a while and enjoy a bowl of her own stew. As the halfling begins his, in her opinion, long-winded first question, the lady's eyes shift side to side, and her ears twitch for a fraction of a second. "Halvin came to visit a couple tendays ago. I was surprised to find out that he was a Redfoot. Like I said, I hadn't seen a Redfoot in a very long time. And here I am seeing my second one in just two tendays!" She smacks her own thighs while letting out a not-so-polite laugh. "I hadn't the foggiest notion of what he'd want with dear old me."
She then let's Doozey put forward his second question before speaking any further. "It is funny that you came here and are asking me this next question, considering your relative was here a couple of tendays ago asking exactly the opposite. Upon his visit, Halvin soon disclosed that he came to me to try to sway me to end the pact that binds the fey to Phlan's defense." She pauses then to allow herself to laugh at the duality of the two requests. Then, without any hesitation, pity, or repentance in her voice or mannerisms, the old lady returns to the first question proper: "Unlike you, Halvin was quite rude and unappreciative of my hospitality, so I killed him."
Anyone looking at Pipyap at this point notices that the imp has been too invested in devouring his bowl of stew to realize that a confession to his master's murder has been offered so nonchalantly.
"You know," she continues, "This wasn't the first time the pact has been broken. It was violated once when Lord Protector Talaric Daoran sent some men to chop down some of our trees. Then there was that whole deal with the dragon... But I shan't go into further detail about what happened in those cases; I won't trouble you with them." Her face then takes a more serious expression: "Now go on... ask you third question and then fulfill your part of the bargain. We can negotiate around the pact after that."
Utar suddenly realises he's beens looking a little too intently at his bowl but every few moments another horror floats to the surface, a tooth; an eyeball; a sausage that he realises is actually a finger. The half-orc turns a more pallid shade and swallows down on the bile rising in his throat.
Looking around the campfire Utar tries not to look to closely at the imp devouring his own bowl of stew and hopes that none of his other companions take a bite. Given he hasn't been paying total attention to the conversion between Doozey and Ms. Green, he puts his ears to use and tries to catch himself up.
Listening to the exchange, Neya tries to pay attention to "Ms. Green's" body language.
Insight: 13
Extended Signature
Doozey listened with rapt attention, and plainly so at that. But beyond such earnest interest left on full display, even grim confirmations seemingly fail to alter his demeanor. If anything, the stoutling looked almost unsurprised at the news. Maybe a touch disappointed, but little else more in the moment. The fact 'Ms. Green' fails to not quite answer his questions isn't lost to him either. Yet rather than double down and perhaps suffer a similar fate as his kin with such stubbornness, the stoutling took a moment to stare into his broth, and loose himself in thought.
"... Apologies, Ms. Greenteeth. That was a fair bit more to process than even I anticipated... a lot... lot more." He admits frankly, sighs softly, and then looks up to the woman -- the creature, meeting her gaze with weary but resolved one of his own. "I know not if there are other villagers yet in your company or among yer... 'collections'. But on the off chance that they are even if distantly so, my last question would be to thusly... To the best of your knowledge, where are the rest of the villagers that entered the forest?" He then, provided noone stop him, downed his bowl's contents in as much of one go as possible.
-Insight: 12.
(Namely trying to discern if there's anything intentionally being left out in regards to his cousin.)
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
@Neya:
You notice that Ms. Green looks a bit unconformable, similar to when someone might be wearing clothes that don't quite fit them well. Other than that, and despite all of your suspicions, the person in front of you is a sweet, doting grandmother. If she is not that, then she must be quite the exceptional actor.
Doozey's next questions gets not only Ms. Green's attention, but also Utar's. She begins to reply: "The villagers were presumptuous indeed. They were foolish to think that they had permission to come into the forest. Four villagers showed up a tenday ago. They were more receptive of my hospitality, having run out of food a few days prior. Of the four, I sent one home as a warning to Kabel's Hill that further incursions would not be tolerated." Looking at you, and with a first instance of non-sweetness in her tone of voice, she adds: "Apparently they didn't get the message, though." She looks away for a moment before regaining her poise: "As for where they are now, well... hmm." She doesn't seem ready to divulge more details, but she begins to smile again.
Meanwhile, both Pipyap and Biscuit seem to be delighted by their respective meals.
@Doozey:
It is clear to you she is not willing to disclose the ultimate fate of Halvin and the others. She knows more than she is willing to reveal at this point.
"Now, now..." Ms. Green says. "Those were three questions and three answers, and we made a deal. It is time for you to fulfill your half of it."
Utar looks down into his bowl again then immediately regrets it as the soup returns his gaze.
"Sorry, I zoned out trying to, uh, warm my hands on my stew. What's is our end of the bargain again?"
Neya looks down at the soup and says, "It was partaking of our gracious host's cooking in exchange for conversation, yes? Just to confirm."
She wafts her hand over the bowl, gives it a sniff and notes, "Hmm... I think we might have seen a similar recipe, before."
Extended Signature
"Not 'ours'. Mine." Doozey said only after practically knocking back the contents of his bowl, and putting on full display the uncanny gluttony of halflings. "Mm-Mm-Mn. That -- mn... that hit a spot." Biscuit barks happily in agreement, nearly prompting Doozey chide the mastiff.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Well, well... yes, yes, it was Redfoot's bargain to begin with, but I take my answers benefit all of you, so don't be shy and eat up." She looks at Neya, Denae and Utar, while pointing out that Doozey has been eating his portion as an example, and then adds: "Even if not a bargain, it is quite impolite to not partake at this point, don't you think?"
Denae looks at Neya for guidance. She is not surprised a badger and a mastiff would chow it down voraciously, but she is not so eager, and it looks like Neya isn't either.
(@Ori: Please give me a CON saving throw for Doozey and one for Biscuit. This does not count as being poisoned or frightened.)
DM's Screen:
Pipyap CON: 21
"Hmmm, I am not so sure we all have entered into this bargain. Doozey has, sure and he's eaten his meal, asked questions and received answers. We simply overheard those answers. If they were meant to be private, you should have mentioned. Now, you have provided us with a meal, and by rights we should partake, however, I don't think that things are quite as they appear, at least not in these bowls anyway. I do not think you are are offering nourishment here. I think that in fact you are entertaining yourself and by extension inflicting disgust and misery on those sat around your campfire. I cannot speak for my friends, but my bowl contains a both a tooth and an eye. Presumably they are the rest of the villagers who came to you?"
Doozey Con Save(DC ??): 8.
Biscuit's Con Save(DC ??): 12.
(If Biscuit would roll a 1, Doozey would use Bountiful luck to re-roll it)
Apart from a bit of brow furrowing and frowning, Doozey seemed relatively unsurprised at Utar's revelation finally coming to light. After all, it wasn't as if the soup was the party's first hag brew, though perhaps a touch more questionable given available ingredients of this particular hag. Biscuit, on the other hand, had truly been blissfully unaware, and it showed in his whimpering as he looked to the delicious smelling pot.
Hearing this, Doozey clicked his tongue to get Biscuit's attention, and motioned the beast over so he could idly pet and calm the beast down as much as possible. "It's alright, boy. There was no helping it." He whispered in Biscuit's ear, then turned back Greenteeth. "Though it could've been perhaps worded with a touch more grace, my companion here, ehhh... has the right of things, I think, for the most part." He conveyed calmly, though side-eyed Utar after that last point. "In fact, considering the 'unexpected nature of our visit', it could be considered ruder still for them to partake, considering this stew was presumably made without the intent of sharing in the first place." He adds with a half smile.
"But to be clear, the 'show' of hospitality is most appreciated by both myself and my companions here, of that I am certain." Doozey adds, gesturing to everyone else at the end. "And any presumptions spoken is merely the road weariness and poor night's sleep talking and shouldn't be taken too much to heart." Doozey is practically sweating beneath the collar after giving it his all to try and smooth things over. Or was it the effect of the stew causing that...
(OOC: And if another persuasion check is required, see spoiler. Otherwise if more appropriate should a check be called, the above can be considered Doozey aiding Utar.)
Persuasion: 12.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
@Doozey: The stew is not bad tasting, but this is certainly a strange mixture of ingredients. There are too many flavors here, and the meat is too tough and chewy. As a lycanthrope (arkalothrope?), you have certainly eaten worse. After finishing your serving, you fell compelled to listen attentively to Ms. Green and agree with whatever she has to say. If you feel like offering arguments she might disagree with or you have requests of her, you can't help but doubt ahead of time if they are even worth mentioning out loud.
@Ori: Please see spoiler below.
In addition to being charmed by the lady of the house, you have disadvantage on CHA checks against her. This also applies to Biscuit. Pipyap miraculously saved.
"Yes, yes," Ms. Green waves Utar's concerns away. "A meal is a meal. Why bother if it has some perfectly good but uncommon bits in it? One shouldn't let perfectly good meat go to waste. Have you never killed a rabbit or deer for a campfire meal? Do you not order poultry or pork at your tavern of choice? Those men were dead the moment they entered this forest. If not us, they'd be nourishing a displacer beast or something else out there. Now, be a polite deary and eat your meal. It is just as nourishing and filling as any other stew. Just ask your friends." She waves to point out that Pipyap, Biscuit, and Doozey all seem not have wiped their bowls clean. "You came here to negotiate, did you not. We can do so amicably as soon as you finish your meal."
She turns to Doozey: "As for portion sizes and sharing..." She open a wide grin. "...I knew you were coming and prepared the meal accordingly." She gestures towards the bone pin stuck into her hair. "You did receive my gift after all, didn't you? Don't worry, I'll be sure to pay Serelis a thank-you visit later on."
"Again, there is no need we can't negotiate amicably." She repeats. "But I am only negotiating with those who accepted my hospitality." She points to the cook-pot and the bubbling stew.
(@Ori: She is not inclined to listen to Utar at the moment, so if you'd like to try to persuade her, please roll a second persuasion check, as per the spoiler above.)
(OOC: Oof! But, it all checks out. And he'd still feel somewhat inclined to try, if but to keep her from becoming unnecessarily upset.)
-Persuasion: 26.
"Hmm~ Ms. Green here does bring up many a fair point. 'cause less be honest here. They were never gonna survive in this forest, and all we all knew that. It would've been another story had they at least been accepted by the elves, mind'ja. But then, I suppose if'n my twice-damned and stupid kin succeeded at anything here, it was making sure to keep that option closed off." Doozey admits with a lazy grin, as some of the earlier tension in his shoulders and posture seemed to finally begin to melt away.
Biscuit lazily "Boofs" in agreement, then began hungrily eyeing the bowls of the other party members. "Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I don't understand why there's so much a fuss over a single bowl. Not like we hadn't had something similar in the past. Which reminds me, I really need to figure out their recipe, 'cause that was quite an invigorating meal." The stoutling confesses, eliciting another lackadasical "Boof~" from Biscuit, before the mastiff's head flops back down in the stoutling's lap.
Doozey then turns to Ms. Green and asks, "Say, how many of them did you use in that pot anyways? If'n ya don't mind me ask'n."
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.