Mulligan holds up a hand in a "hold on a minute" gesture but is a bit late as Rowan has already opened his mouth - Something he's been quick to realize is not always a good thing.
What he means to say, I am sure, is that we'll try our best but can't make any promises.
Mulligan rushes to put the words into Obud's head and then turns to his fellows and repeats much the same over Group Chat.
We barely know what we are getting ourselves into. We cannot make grandiose promises of derring-do and rescues.
Greginald is focussed solely on the gem in his hand, the soft glow from it illuminating his little face as he tries to see if anything is held within, to hear any words of wishes past. He knew at the time that something took his wish, knew something was listening, collecting, but he had no idea that it might be a future version of himself caught in some fey realm listening back...
His attention is caught as the word "promise" leaves Obud's tiny lips, but similar to Mulligan, Greg is too slow to stop the chatterbox of the group from agreeing, "Gah! ROWAN! we are in the fey realms! promises mean a lot more here and I don't think we can keep going around accepting promises that we do not know if we can keep, Languae of agreement is key here, learn these words and repeat after me 'We Will Do What We Can' yeah? thats all we can promise, ok?" the Gnome tucks the wish gem into a pouch hoping it might come in handy later.
Rowan stops and looks at both Mulligan and G'Reg and frowns. He idly rubs the nose of the pony while he runs what he just said back through his head, listening for boastful promises.
He shakes his head. "I think you're the only ones who have used the word promise. Well I guess I just did now but it wasn't to promise anything. I said we're planning on helping set free anyone trapped in there. My mom was good with words and I'm pretty sure planning to help with a task is a far cry from a promise to complete the task. Or does the word promise mean something different here?"
Rowan looks over at Obud and smiles "I wish I could promise success but we could all end up dead in the witch's hall. I'd hate for you to hold dying against us. Or maybe being maimed. If we couldn't walk or crawl or anything, it might be hard to free anyone. Or if we're captured ourselves. You know, there are an awful lot of potential ways to fail. Don't you think that's weird. There's one way to succeed but so many ways to fail."
He looks at the pony again for a moment.
"Mr Obud, is there any reason not to use the invitations to enter the Motherhorn? Wouldn't that be like being invited in as guest? Would Creepy Lyn have to keep us safe then? Though I guess we then couldn't go mucking about inside her tower without permission then if we were proper guests."
Barria heads over the bridge with no issue and stares, a bit in awe, at the pony with the house atop it. What a marvel! This needs to be in the carnival!
As her thoughts run rampant, she eventually hears what is being said and is happy that Rowan made it clear that no promise had been made. She is very curious on what the answer would be to using the invites. And she adds, "Do the brigganocks have any issues with dancing with the korreds?"
"that's something I wanted to talk to the group about..." Greg interjects, "during my sleep it was like my mind left my body and flew away, I abandoned you all, and sought shelter, but everything was odd, dream logic I suppose. I went to the mother horn, I saw iterations of the hag, past present and future, she saw me, chased me off... I don't think she has any plans on being hospitable, from what the korreds say she isn't exactly one to follow the rules."
Obud extends one tiny hand toward Rowan just as the elf is about to unwittingly agree to the promise—but withdraws it when Mulligan butts in.
Very well, says Obud, a twinkle glimmering in his little eye. I won’t hold you to it. Let not they who have not known darkness go thither without a spark. But we shall have to collapse the tunnel behind you... just to be safe.
Then, leaning closer to Rowan, he adds quietly, If you find yourself in great danger, you might use the Lúthmelar you carry. He nods toward the electrum whistle gleaming in plain sight upon Rowan’s neck. Of course… you never quite know who else might answer the call.
When Rowan asks about the use of their invitations, Obud chuckles, stroking his silvery beard.
Ah yes! The Law of Hospitality. "When a friend, an enemy, or a stranger enters your home, you are bound to treat them with grace and goodwill, until they prove, by word or deed, undeserving of such kindness". If you have been invited, and you enter as a guest, you shall be accommodated so long as you remain deserving of it. Even the Hourglass Coven cannot ignore this law, though they twist it to suit their wickedness. But to enter as a thief… his eyes glint knowingly... well, that may undo the rule... unless your cunning is as nimble as Endelyn's.
To Barria, the aged brigganock turns with a softened expression.
To Dance the Three Circles is to show friendship and solidarity between two peoples. When we learned that the korreds had lent aid to Creeping Lyn, we chose not to honor that vow at the next full moon... and saw that the korreds did the same. But if we have both been misled, as you seem to claim, then we would be glad indeed... if the korreds are willing... to rekindle that friendship.
Finally, Obud looks to the whole group, rubbing his hands together with brisk determination.
Creating a tunnel from here to Motherhorn is no small task... miles of stone to bore through. I estimate perhaps eight cycles of the moon…
He pauses, watching their faces fall, and his grin widens.
…for an army of dwarves, that is. Fortunately for you, brigganocks work much faster. Make yourselves comfortable and rest here in my cave. By the time you awaken, the tunnel will be ready.
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How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
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Mulligan holds up a hand in a "hold on a minute" gesture but is a bit late as Rowan has already opened his mouth - Something he's been quick to realize is not always a good thing.
What he means to say, I am sure, is that we'll try our best but can't make any promises.
Mulligan rushes to put the words into Obud's head and then turns to his fellows and repeats much the same over Group Chat.
We barely know what we are getting ourselves into. We cannot make grandiose promises of derring-do and rescues.
Greginald is focussed solely on the gem in his hand, the soft glow from it illuminating his little face as he tries to see if anything is held within, to hear any words of wishes past. He knew at the time that something took his wish, knew something was listening, collecting, but he had no idea that it might be a future version of himself caught in some fey realm listening back...
His attention is caught as the word "promise" leaves Obud's tiny lips, but similar to Mulligan, Greg is too slow to stop the chatterbox of the group from agreeing, "Gah! ROWAN! we are in the fey realms! promises mean a lot more here and I don't think we can keep going around accepting promises that we do not know if we can keep, Languae of agreement is key here, learn these words and repeat after me 'We Will Do What We Can' yeah? thats all we can promise, ok?"
the Gnome tucks the wish gem into a pouch hoping it might come in handy later.
Rowan stops and looks at both Mulligan and G'Reg and frowns. He idly rubs the nose of the pony while he runs what he just said back through his head, listening for boastful promises.
He shakes his head. "I think you're the only ones who have used the word promise. Well I guess I just did now but it wasn't to promise anything. I said we're planning on helping set free anyone trapped in there. My mom was good with words and I'm pretty sure planning to help with a task is a far cry from a promise to complete the task. Or does the word promise mean something different here?"
Rowan looks over at Obud and smiles "I wish I could promise success but we could all end up dead in the witch's hall. I'd hate for you to hold dying against us. Or maybe being maimed. If we couldn't walk or crawl or anything, it might be hard to free anyone. Or if we're captured ourselves. You know, there are an awful lot of potential ways to fail. Don't you think that's weird. There's one way to succeed but so many ways to fail."
He looks at the pony again for a moment.
"Mr Obud, is there any reason not to use the invitations to enter the Motherhorn? Wouldn't that be like being invited in as guest? Would Creepy Lyn have to keep us safe then? Though I guess we then couldn't go mucking about inside her tower without permission then if we were proper guests."
Barria heads over the bridge with no issue and stares, a bit in awe, at the pony with the house atop it. What a marvel! This needs to be in the carnival!
As her thoughts run rampant, she eventually hears what is being said and is happy that Rowan made it clear that no promise had been made. She is very curious on what the answer would be to using the invites. And she adds, "Do the brigganocks have any issues with dancing with the korreds?"
"that's something I wanted to talk to the group about..." Greg interjects, "during my sleep it was like my mind left my body and flew away, I abandoned you all, and sought shelter, but everything was odd, dream logic I suppose. I went to the mother horn, I saw iterations of the hag, past present and future, she saw me, chased me off... I don't think she has any plans on being hospitable, from what the korreds say she isn't exactly one to follow the rules."
Obud extends one tiny hand toward Rowan just as the elf is about to unwittingly agree to the promise—but withdraws it when Mulligan butts in.
Very well, says Obud, a twinkle glimmering in his little eye. I won’t hold you to it. Let not they who have not known darkness go thither without a spark. But we shall have to collapse the tunnel behind you... just to be safe.
Then, leaning closer to Rowan, he adds quietly, If you find yourself in great danger, you might use the Lúthmelar you carry. He nods toward the electrum whistle gleaming in plain sight upon Rowan’s neck. Of course… you never quite know who else might answer the call.
When Rowan asks about the use of their invitations, Obud chuckles, stroking his silvery beard.
Ah yes! The Law of Hospitality. "When a friend, an enemy, or a stranger enters your home, you are bound to treat them with grace and goodwill, until they prove, by word or deed, undeserving of such kindness". If you have been invited, and you enter as a guest, you shall be accommodated so long as you remain deserving of it. Even the Hourglass Coven cannot ignore this law, though they twist it to suit their wickedness. But to enter as a thief… his eyes glint knowingly... well, that may undo the rule... unless your cunning is as nimble as Endelyn's.
To Barria, the aged brigganock turns with a softened expression.
To Dance the Three Circles is to show friendship and solidarity between two peoples. When we learned that the korreds had lent aid to Creeping Lyn, we chose not to honor that vow at the next full moon... and saw that the korreds did the same. But if we have both been misled, as you seem to claim, then we would be glad indeed... if the korreds are willing... to rekindle that friendship.
Finally, Obud looks to the whole group, rubbing his hands together with brisk determination.
Creating a tunnel from here to Motherhorn is no small task... miles of stone to bore through. I estimate perhaps eight cycles of the moon…
He pauses, watching their faces fall, and his grin widens.
…for an army of dwarves, that is. Fortunately for you, brigganocks work much faster. Make yourselves comfortable and rest here in my cave. By the time you awaken, the tunnel will be ready.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?