Xoblob’s expression shifts in an instant—his usual smirk stretches into a wide, almost cartoonish grin, his painted eyes crinkling with delight. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter, fingers tapping together as if savoring the moment.
"Ohhh, now that is an interesting question." He pauses dramatically, letting the tension build. "Have I seen anything? No… I don’t think so." He tilts his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or… maybe I did? Perhaps something... peculiar? Something worth remembering?"
His grin lingers as he leans back, tapping his pipe against the counter. “Memories can be such fragile things, don’t you think? They become clearer with the right... encouragement.” He gestures vaguely toward the assortment of trinkets and oddities crowding the shelves, his intent obvious.
Whatever Xoblob knows, he isn’t about to share it freely.
Ryder lowers the cowl on his hood and says quietly to Xoblob. "That one there is one of the most powerful mages around. He has quite a lot of power, and I'd be very honest around him if I were you. He'll know if you're cheating him." Deception: 20.
Xoblob picks up the trinket with a lazy flick of his fingers, turning it over in the dim light. His grin falters, and for a moment, his painted eyes seem to dull with disappointment. He exhales sharply through his nose, placing the object back on the counter with an almost offended air.
“Ah. Well. It’s certainly… something.” He gestures at it vaguely. “But where’s the vibrance? The intrigue? The color?” He leans forward, peering at the item as if hoping it might suddenly brighten before his very eyes. “Dull. Lacking flair. A trinket without a story is just an object, and worse—a colorless object is barely worth my time.” He waves a hand dismissively, clearly unimpressed.
Shifting his attention back to Murgen, he chuckles at the claim about Abishai’s magical skill. “Oh, I believe you. I’m sure your friend is a marvel with the arcane, a true master of unseen forces.” His grin returns, sharper this time. “But as I said, I am neutral. Surely, such a gifted mage wouldn’t harm a poor old gnome, one who merely runs the most uniquely hued store in all the City of Splendors?”
His fingers drum against the counter, his expression once again alight with mischief. "Besides, memories are fragile things. Sometimes they return on their own... but the right shade of persuasion can work wonders."
Xoblob picks up the trinket with a lazy flick of his fingers, turning it over in the dim light. His grin falters, and for a moment, his painted eyes seem to dull with disappointment. He exhales sharply through his nose, placing the object back on the counter with an almost offended air.
“Ah. Well. It’s certainly… something.” He gestures at it vaguely. “But where’s the vibrance? The intrigue? The color?” He leans forward, peering at the item as if hoping it might suddenly brighten before his very eyes. “Dull. Lacking flair. A trinket without a story is just an object, and worse—a colorless object is barely worth my time.” He waves a hand dismissively, clearly unimpressed.
Shifting his attention back to Murgen, he chuckles at the claim about Abishai’s magical skill. “Oh, I believe you. I’m sure your friend is a marvel with the arcane, a true master of unseen forces.” His grin returns, sharper this time. “But as I said, I am neutral. Surely, such a gifted mage wouldn’t harm a poor old gnome, one who merely runs the most uniquely hued store in all the City of Splendors?”
His fingers drum against the counter, his expression once again alight with mischief. "Besides, memories are fragile things. Sometimes they return on their own... but the right shade of persuasion can work wonders."
Note: I believe that Abishai was trying to buy the trinket, not sell it.
[[ OOC: Yes I was. I'll reroll for a different trinket and try again 92. ]]
[[ OOC: How is it possible I rolled the same trinket? 42
Abishai tries not to let his annoyance creep into his voice as he puts the dwarven brooch back on the shelf and instead grabs a rank insignia from a lost legionnaire and holds it up to the old gnome. "Please, sir... time is short, and we need to find Floon." He places three gold coins on the counter. "Now, please tell us what you know."
Xoblob lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping as Abishai places another coin on the counter. He stares at the money like it’s the most mundane, uninteresting thing in the world. "Money, money, money... always money," he mutters, waving a dismissive hand. "Everyone thinks it buys all things, but where’s the excitement? Where’s the color?"
But then, between Murgen’s warning and the clink of three very convincing gold pieces, his demeanor shifts. His lips press together in disappointed resignation, and with a begrudging grumble, he snatches up the coins. "I guess this will help me get more... beautiful thingys," he murmurs, eyes glazing over as his mind wanders to possibilities—glittering trinkets, dyed silks, shimmering gemstones. He stays like that for a moment, completely lost in thought, fantasizing about his next acquisition.
Finally, he blinks and refocuses, as if just now remembering he was supposed to be answering a question.
"Right, right. Floon, was it? Don't know the name, but two well-dressed fellows came stumbling past here two nights ago. Looked alike, similar build, similar fancy airs about them. Didn't recognize either." His fingers drum absently on the counter as he recalls the moment. "Not long after, a group of rough-looking men—five of them, all in black leather—jumped them just outside my shop. Didn't recognize any of 'em, but one of them had a black tattoo of a winged snake on his neck. Nasty-looking lot, if you ask me."
Xoblob leans back, folding his arms. "And that, my dear patrons, is all I know. Now, unless you’ve got something truly remarkable to trade, I believe our business is concluded."
Abishai pockets the rank insignia from a lost legionnaire and nods to the old gnome, "Thank you, sir. Your assistance is appreciated." Abishai walks out of the shop, the not-so-fresh air assaulting his senses. He regroups with the rest of the party and relays the new information he's been given. "Xoblob says a man matching Floon was walking with another fellow two nights ago. The pair were jumped by five thugs dressed in all black. One of the thugs had a black tattoo of a winged snake on his neck." Abishai briefly looks at each party member before asking, "Does anyone know what the tattoo represents?"
Abishai smiles and winks at Ryder, "Thanks for the help back there. I hope someday what you said becomes true."
"Unfortunately, then I wouldn't be as good at saying it..." Ryder says quietly. As he steps away from the building, he thinks hard to see if he ever met a man with the snake tattoo. I'm guessing he doesn't remember. )History: 4.
"I guess we should then carry on to the Skewered Dragon then. Perhaps someone there will know what the winged snake tattoo means." Abishai says as the group tarries in the street.
Yes, the Skewered Dragon Josef responds, thinking to himself, winged snake tattoo, trying to recall if he may know anything about that. History check roll 17+1=18
Ryder steps through the streets carefully, moving like a ghost and guiding his friends to The Skewered Dragon. When they arrive, he glances at Bjorn and Abishai, saying quietly, "What's our next move?"
Xoblob’s expression shifts in an instant—his usual smirk stretches into a wide, almost cartoonish grin, his painted eyes crinkling with delight. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter, fingers tapping together as if savoring the moment.
"Ohhh, now that is an interesting question." He pauses dramatically, letting the tension build. "Have I seen anything? No… I don’t think so." He tilts his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or… maybe I did? Perhaps something... peculiar? Something worth remembering?"
His grin lingers as he leans back, tapping his pipe against the counter. “Memories can be such fragile things, don’t you think? They become clearer with the right... encouragement.” He gestures vaguely toward the assortment of trinkets and oddities crowding the shelves, his intent obvious.
Whatever Xoblob knows, he isn’t about to share it freely.
[[ OOC: Rolling a D100 75 for the trinkets table in the PHB. @DM If you already have a list of trinkets, please let me know. ]]
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Abishia picks up an ornate brooch of dwarven design and asks Xoblob, "How much for this trinket and your... cooperation?"
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Ryder lowers the cowl on his hood and says quietly to Xoblob. "That one there is one of the most powerful mages around. He has quite a lot of power, and I'd be very honest around him if I were you. He'll know if you're cheating him." Deception: 20.
[A paper drops out of a flash of light and drifts to the ground at your feet] -(extended sig)-
Xoblob picks up the trinket with a lazy flick of his fingers, turning it over in the dim light. His grin falters, and for a moment, his painted eyes seem to dull with disappointment. He exhales sharply through his nose, placing the object back on the counter with an almost offended air.
“Ah. Well. It’s certainly… something.” He gestures at it vaguely. “But where’s the vibrance? The intrigue? The color?” He leans forward, peering at the item as if hoping it might suddenly brighten before his very eyes. “Dull. Lacking flair. A trinket without a story is just an object, and worse—a colorless object is barely worth my time.” He waves a hand dismissively, clearly unimpressed.
Shifting his attention back to Murgen, he chuckles at the claim about Abishai’s magical skill. “Oh, I believe you. I’m sure your friend is a marvel with the arcane, a true master of unseen forces.” His grin returns, sharper this time. “But as I said, I am neutral. Surely, such a gifted mage wouldn’t harm a poor old gnome, one who merely runs the most uniquely hued store in all the City of Splendors?”
His fingers drum against the counter, his expression once again alight with mischief. "Besides, memories are fragile things. Sometimes they return on their own... but the right shade of persuasion can work wonders."
Note: I believe that Abishai was trying to buy the trinket, not sell it.
[A paper drops out of a flash of light and drifts to the ground at your feet] -(extended sig)-
[[ OOC: Yes I was. I'll reroll for a different trinket and try again 92. ]]
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
[[ OOC: How is it possible I rolled the same trinket? 42
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Abishai tries not to let his annoyance creep into his voice as he puts the dwarven brooch back on the shelf and instead grabs a rank insignia from a lost legionnaire and holds it up to the old gnome. "Please, sir... time is short, and we need to find Floon." He places three gold coins on the counter. "Now, please tell us what you know."
Persuasion: 19
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Xoblob lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping as Abishai places another coin on the counter. He stares at the money like it’s the most mundane, uninteresting thing in the world. "Money, money, money... always money," he mutters, waving a dismissive hand. "Everyone thinks it buys all things, but where’s the excitement? Where’s the color?"
But then, between Murgen’s warning and the clink of three very convincing gold pieces, his demeanor shifts. His lips press together in disappointed resignation, and with a begrudging grumble, he snatches up the coins. "I guess this will help me get more... beautiful thingys," he murmurs, eyes glazing over as his mind wanders to possibilities—glittering trinkets, dyed silks, shimmering gemstones. He stays like that for a moment, completely lost in thought, fantasizing about his next acquisition.
Finally, he blinks and refocuses, as if just now remembering he was supposed to be answering a question.
"Right, right. Floon, was it? Don't know the name, but two well-dressed fellows came stumbling past here two nights ago. Looked alike, similar build, similar fancy airs about them. Didn't recognize either." His fingers drum absently on the counter as he recalls the moment. "Not long after, a group of rough-looking men—five of them, all in black leather—jumped them just outside my shop. Didn't recognize any of 'em, but one of them had a black tattoo of a winged snake on his neck. Nasty-looking lot, if you ask me."
Xoblob leans back, folding his arms. "And that, my dear patrons, is all I know. Now, unless you’ve got something truly remarkable to trade, I believe our business is concluded."
Abishai pockets the rank insignia from a lost legionnaire and nods to the old gnome, "Thank you, sir. Your assistance is appreciated." Abishai walks out of the shop, the not-so-fresh air assaulting his senses. He regroups with the rest of the party and relays the new information he's been given. "Xoblob says a man matching Floon was walking with another fellow two nights ago. The pair were jumped by five thugs dressed in all black. One of the thugs had a black tattoo of a winged snake on his neck." Abishai briefly looks at each party member before asking, "Does anyone know what the tattoo represents?"
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
"Can't say that I have, but I know someone who might. Perhaps a few someones..." Bjorn says ominously.
Abishai smiles and winks at Ryder, "Thanks for the help back there. I hope someday what you said becomes true."
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
"Unfortunately, then I wouldn't be as good at saying it..." Ryder says quietly. As he steps away from the building, he thinks hard to see if he ever met a man with the snake tattoo. I'm guessing he doesn't remember. )History: 4.
[A paper drops out of a flash of light and drifts to the ground at your feet] -(extended sig)-
"I guess we should then carry on to the Skewered Dragon then. Perhaps someone there will know what the winged snake tattoo means." Abishai says as the group tarries in the street.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
"Agreed," says Bjorn, continuing along the street.
Yes, the Skewered Dragon Josef responds, thinking to himself, winged snake tattoo, trying to recall if he may know anything about that. History check roll 17+1=18
Ryder steps through the streets carefully, moving like a ghost and guiding his friends to The Skewered Dragon. When they arrive, he glances at Bjorn and Abishai, saying quietly, "What's our next move?"
[A paper drops out of a flash of light and drifts to the ground at your feet] -(extended sig)-
"We ask questions," Bjorn says.
"Of who? I'm not very good at investigation, though I'm good at spotting covered tracks."
[A paper drops out of a flash of light and drifts to the ground at your feet] -(extended sig)-