Hikari looks up from his drunken delirium. "A-arm wrestling? I'm t-the g-greatest arm wrestler on this plane! I-I'll defeat anyone who comes forward!" He says this, completely bluffing, with an air of strength. It's rather obvious that, with his scrawny build, he couldn't beat a mouse, yet he'll face all challengers all the same.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
The tender eyes the coins in the table before turning to you. "Y'know, Hikari, that could clear up 'yer debt. I recommend ye' do win."
He leaves the bar, and enters a room in the back. You hear a slight racket before he exits holding a small pouch. "Me money's still on the little one. No offence, Hikari."
Hikari stands there, finally shouting out "W-well, you're losing your money, then!" He sits down across from Arty, glaring directly at him, and tries to ignore the pain that comes with shoving himself into such a little chair. He towers over the boy, even sitting, and reassures himself that it'll be an easy win. "Very well, let's see how this goes."
He offers his hand up, his muscles tensed, ready. Still staring right at the boy, hoping to gain some insight. Thinking of the gold coins, softly landing in his money-pouch. He licks his lips, savoring the smell -- and taste -- of cold, hard coins.
At the mention of being able to do the drinking competition Arty scrambles back to his feet and takes a big gulp from the mug that was set near him. No sooner then the bitter liquid hitting Arry's taste buds, it all came right back out. Spitting and spraying as he hears Pumahk say he couldn't partake. "Ehuu... well since you say I can't" still spitting trying to get the taste out of his mouth, he hoped everyone will realize that he was just obeying Pumahk's instructions, not that he couldn't handle that terribly discussing drink, serious, they pay to drink that?
"Arm wrestling is my specialty, I will have you know," using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his face, "back where I'm from, I'm the best arm wrestler in the world! Aren't I Pumahk?"
Bjorn looks up from his journal wondering what the ruckus is all about. The huge man (for a human) snorts softly to himself as he mumbles to himself, "Where there is a dwarf, there's a drinking contest" he then laughingly shouts in dwarven "Don't drink them too far under the table!".
He thinks about what he is going to do now that he has completed his apprenticeship in the Architect's Guild. Years of building homesteads and roads for minor lords was worth the Journeyman status and the freedom to travel.
The Thri-kreen wearing the Pelor silks attracts his attention. Well... not the insectoid itself, though it is strange. It is actually the map that garners the most attention. He pauses a bit, wondering the correct way to approach the being, then decides on the direct method.
"May the blessings of Sun shine on you. Sorry to disturb you, but I am Bjorne Stahle, a journeyman navigator and mapmaker. Your map caught my eye and I was wondering who was the cartographer who created it".
At the mention of being able to do the drinking competition Arty scrambles back to his feet and takes a big gulp from the mug that was set near him. No sooner then the bitter liquid hitting Arry's taste buds, it all came right back out. Spitting and spraying as he hears Pumahk say he couldn't partake. "Ehuu... well since you say I can't" still spitting trying to get the taste out of his mouth, he hoped everyone will realize that he was just obeying Pumahk's instructions, not that he couldn't handle that terribly discussing drink, serious, they pay to drink that?
"Arm wrestling is my specialty, I will have you know," using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his face, "back where I'm from, I'm the best arm wrestler in the world! Aren't I Pumahk?"
Pumahk had noticed Arty's haste to drink from the mug, and knew from experience had leapt into action without thinking once. He chose not to mention it though as the boy had seemed to learn his lesson, and to be quite frank the spectacle of the whole ordeal was quite amusing to him. "Indeed you are lad!" he exclaims in response to Arty.
Galdrun will put 5 gold down on Arty and sit back and watch the show. Taking care not to draw too much attention, but smiling warmly to anyone who notices him
Rowan settles back in his seat, staff resting against his shoulder, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. The fiddle music had been a welcome sound; honest and heartfelt, the kind that reminded him of harvest festivals back home. But this? A drinking contest turned arm-wrestling match between a monk who could barely stand and a child who'd just discovered ale was disgusting?
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. His fingers tap absently against his mug - water, it should be said, not ale - as he watches the gold start piling up on the bar.
Colorful crowd, he thinks, eyes moving from the enormous man coaching the boy, to the drunken monk, to the insectoid creature absorbed in maps in the corner. Whatever had drawn him here, it seemed he wouldn't lack for interesting company.
For now, he's content to watch and listen. That's how you learn what you're dealing with, after all.
Bjorn looks up from his journal wondering what the ruckus is all about. The huge man (for a human) snorts softly to himself as he mumbles to himself, "Where there is a dwarf, there's a drinking contest" he then laughingly shouts in dwarven "Don't drink them too far under the table!".
He thinks about what he is going to do now that he has completed his apprenticeship in the Architect's Guild. Years of building homesteads and roads for minor lords was worth the Journeyman status and the freedom to travel.
The Thri-kreen wearing the Pelor silks attracts his attention. Well... not the insectoid itself, though it is strange. It is actually the map that garners the most attention. He pauses a bit, wondering the correct way to approach the being, then decides on the direct method.
"May the blessings of Sun shine on you. Sorry to disturb you, but I am Bjorne Stahle, a journeyman navigator and mapmaker. Your map caught my eye and I was wondering who was the cartographer who created it".
The Thri-Kreen jumps at the sudden interruption, his eyes returning to a normal (at least, normal for Thri-kreen) as he looks at you.
"OH! Oh! Hi! sorry, I was just focused. The map? I couldn't tell you. I traded it a for a horse some time ago. I can't read it, so I'm just trying to decipher it now."
He seems on guard, either from the sudden social interaction, the fact that anyone showed any interest in him, or another reason entirely, though you can't be sure.
Brion finishes the song, bows deeply and graciously to the tip givers, then starts to catch on to what the young lad is doing. Reading the room, he gets the sense that the one the 'keep referred to as Hikari is playing it up for the boy, which Brion appreciates. Clearly a precocious kid, with an air of the showman about him.
Brion heads over and tries to get the tavernkeep's attention subtly. "What's his debt? He's entertaining the boy, so he's got a good soul, and I don't mind paying it forward. Let me know what he owes and it's yours."
(OOC: This conversation between Brion and the barkeep doesn't have to play out here in the thread, but whatever Hikari owes, Brion will cover)
Just before the word go, or start or whatever they were about to say, Arty quickly moves to the side of table and puts his feet against the leg of the table to help pull with. But his foot missed the leg and only got his waist to but up against the edge of the table, he grabbed with his other hand and pulled his all his might:
Bjorne chuckles again at the display at the other table, says to the thri-kreen, "Just one moment" heads back to his table to retrieve a huge backpack. He returns, settles down, then pulls out 3 compasses, a sextant and a pair of calipers. "Most maps are set up to be used by those who can not read and write with the language to mark locations" as he points at the map. "May I?"
(OOC: if he allows it, I'm using the tool use from Xanathar's, Determine a map’s age and origin DC10 History: Advantage (+4):22 Discern that a map is fake or has hidden messages DC15 Investigation: Advantage (+4): 18 I read and write Dwarven, Sylvan and Undercommon in addition to Common.)
The map, as you find, is written in Undercommon, the language of the beasts underground. It is a simple map, leading to the ruins of a keep deep within the woods nearby. However, as you read it, you notice a note, barely legible, in the corner.
"BEWARE THE MAN WHOSE SMILE LAUGHS"
The warning had clearly been erased before, as if someone didn't want anyone to read such a thing.
(Do any of y'all have the players' handbook on D&D beyond and could share it with me? My attempts at making a homebrew copy of my warlock subclass have fallen short of the mark)
Hikari looks up from his drunken delirium. "A-arm wrestling? I'm t-the g-greatest arm wrestler on this plane! I-I'll defeat anyone who comes forward!" He says this, completely bluffing, with an air of strength. It's rather obvious that, with his scrawny build, he couldn't beat a mouse, yet he'll face all challengers all the same.
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
The tender eyes the coins in the table before turning to you. "Y'know, Hikari, that could clear up 'yer debt. I recommend ye' do win."
He leaves the bar, and enters a room in the back. You hear a slight racket before he exits holding a small pouch. "Me money's still on the little one. No offence, Hikari."
Hikari stands there, finally shouting out "W-well, you're losing your money, then!" He sits down across from Arty, glaring directly at him, and tries to ignore the pain that comes with shoving himself into such a little chair. He towers over the boy, even sitting, and reassures himself that it'll be an easy win. "Very well, let's see how this goes."
He offers his hand up, his muscles tensed, ready. Still staring right at the boy, hoping to gain some insight. Thinking of the gold coins, softly landing in his money-pouch. He licks his lips, savoring the smell -- and taste -- of cold, hard coins.
(OOC: Just a little overconfident...)
Religious frisbee player, writer, goofball, and nerd. Some may say professional for the latter two.
Extended sig here. Send me a PM if you want to chat.
DM: Liquid Swords - A Historical Wuxia Campaign
Player: Marcus Aquillus Arcade (Quil) - 1st Rogue - Pax Romana
At the mention of being able to do the drinking competition Arty scrambles back to his feet and takes a big gulp from the mug that was set near him. No sooner then the bitter liquid hitting Arry's taste buds, it all came right back out. Spitting and spraying as he hears Pumahk say he couldn't partake. "Ehuu... well since you say I can't" still spitting trying to get the taste out of his mouth, he hoped everyone will realize that he was just obeying Pumahk's instructions, not that he couldn't handle that terribly discussing drink, serious, they pay to drink that?
"Arm wrestling is my specialty, I will have you know," using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his face, "back where I'm from, I'm the best arm wrestler in the world! Aren't I Pumahk?"
Bjorn looks up from his journal wondering what the ruckus is all about. The huge man (for a human) snorts softly to himself as he mumbles to himself, "Where there is a dwarf, there's a drinking contest" he then laughingly shouts in dwarven "Don't drink them too far under the table!".
He thinks about what he is going to do now that he has completed his apprenticeship in the Architect's Guild. Years of building homesteads and roads for minor lords was worth the Journeyman status and the freedom to travel.
The Thri-kreen wearing the Pelor silks attracts his attention. Well... not the insectoid itself, though it is strange. It is actually the map that garners the most attention. He pauses a bit, wondering the correct way to approach the being, then decides on the direct method.
"May the blessings of Sun shine on you. Sorry to disturb you, but I am Bjorne Stahle, a journeyman navigator and mapmaker. Your map caught my eye and I was wondering who was the cartographer who created it".
Cats go Moo!
Pumahk had noticed Arty's haste to drink from the mug, and knew from experience had leapt into action without thinking once. He chose not to mention it though as the boy had seemed to learn his lesson, and to be quite frank the spectacle of the whole ordeal was quite amusing to him. "Indeed you are lad!" he exclaims in response to Arty.
Galdrun will put 5 gold down on Arty and sit back and watch the show. Taking care not to draw too much attention, but smiling warmly to anyone who notices him
(Alot riding on Arty and his -3 str modifier!)
Rowan settles back in his seat, staff resting against his shoulder, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. The fiddle music had been a welcome sound; honest and heartfelt, the kind that reminded him of harvest festivals back home. But this? A drinking contest turned arm-wrestling match between a monk who could barely stand and a child who'd just discovered ale was disgusting?
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. His fingers tap absently against his mug - water, it should be said, not ale - as he watches the gold start piling up on the bar.
Colorful crowd, he thinks, eyes moving from the enormous man coaching the boy, to the drunken monk, to the insectoid creature absorbed in maps in the corner. Whatever had drawn him here, it seemed he wouldn't lack for interesting company.
For now, he's content to watch and listen. That's how you learn what you're dealing with, after all.
The Thri-Kreen jumps at the sudden interruption, his eyes returning to a normal (at least, normal for Thri-kreen) as he looks at you.
"OH! Oh! Hi! sorry, I was just focused. The map? I couldn't tell you. I traded it a for a horse some time ago. I can't read it, so I'm just trying to decipher it now."
He seems on guard, either from the sudden social interaction, the fact that anyone showed any interest in him, or another reason entirely, though you can't be sure.
(Arm wrestlers, make an athletics check.)
Brion finishes the song, bows deeply and graciously to the tip givers, then starts to catch on to what the young lad is doing. Reading the room, he gets the sense that the one the 'keep referred to as Hikari is playing it up for the boy, which Brion appreciates. Clearly a precocious kid, with an air of the showman about him.
Brion heads over and tries to get the tavernkeep's attention subtly. "What's his debt? He's entertaining the boy, so he's got a good soul, and I don't mind paying it forward. Let me know what he owes and it's yours."
(OOC: This conversation between Brion and the barkeep doesn't have to play out here in the thread, but whatever Hikari owes, Brion will cover)
Just before the word go, or start or whatever they were about to say, Arty quickly moves to the side of table and puts his feet against the leg of the table to help pull with. But his foot missed the leg and only got his waist to but up against the edge of the table, he grabbed with his other hand and pulled his all his might:
Athletics: 4
Bjorne chuckles again at the display at the other table, says to the thri-kreen, "Just one moment" heads back to his table to retrieve a huge backpack. He returns, settles down, then pulls out 3 compasses, a sextant and a pair of calipers. "Most maps are set up to be used by those who can not read and write with the language to mark locations" as he points at the map. "May I?"
Cats go Moo!
(OOC: if he allows it, I'm using the tool use from Xanathar's, Determine a map’s age and origin DC10 History: Advantage (+4):22 Discern that a map is fake or has hidden messages DC15 Investigation: Advantage (+4): 18 I read and write Dwarven, Sylvan and Undercommon in addition to Common.)
Cats go Moo!
The map, as you find, is written in Undercommon, the language of the beasts underground. It is a simple map, leading to the ruins of a keep deep within the woods nearby. However, as you read it, you notice a note, barely legible, in the corner.
"
BEWARE THE MAN WHOSE SMILE LAUGHS"The warning had clearly been erased before, as if someone didn't want anyone to read such a thing.
(Do any of y'all have the players' handbook on D&D beyond and could share it with me? My attempts at making a homebrew copy of my warlock subclass have fallen short of the mark)
(OOC: created a campaign page for content sharing: https://www.dndbeyond.com/campaigns/join/7067543609578859) figured I'd set it up since I have many of the books
Cats go Moo!
(I appreciate it)
Galdrun opens up a mental connection with Bjorne "Anything interesting?"
(Waiting on DM :)
Cats go Moo!