Quillary watches the group get ready, her attention drawn to Drusk as he gathers what he needs.
OOC > Going with Passive Insight 15 vs Drusk not trying to hide anything, but DM can tell me otherwise.
"It would appear we are both half elves, then," she says to him, noting some of his elven stuff. She looks about as the crew goes about their business. "What are the rest of them half of, then?" she asks, though Drusk is not sure the question was directed at him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Quillary watches the group get ready, her attention drawn to Drusk as he gathers what he needs.
OOC > Going with Passive Insight 15 vs Drusk not trying to hide anything, but DM can tell me otherwise.
"It would appear we are both half elves, then," she says to him, noting some of his elven stuff. She looks about as the crew goes about their business. "What are the rest of them half of, then?" she asks, though Drusk is not sure the question was directed at him.
Drusk responds honestly. (Can't deceive Passive Insight 15). "No no... Half-orc, half-human. But raised wholly by whole elves...
"To be honest, sometimes the other elf acolytes didn't act elf-like. Especially when they did things different than what they told me an elf should do. Don't know if that was their hearts being holy, if they were being half-hearted, or their flighty natures making them act like their heads were hole-ly."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Jorin is drinking from a cup of breakfast ale, or could it be dinner ale he's simply having for breakfast? Either way, a cup of ale when Quillary comes in with her offer. He smiles broadly, recognizing another of similar...untamed-ness as himself.
He brings a second cup of ale for her as the group goes over the scroll. After discussing the job, he turns to Pascal and says, "My friend, I had planned on forged you a chef's knife like no other in the next couple days, but it seems that will be delayed. I apologize and will set about hammering in the forge as soon as we return.
He then introduces himself to Quillary, "I am Jorin, of the Bodt. What brings you to Waterdeep? You seem as far from home here as I."
Pascal gives a toothy grin, “Ah, you’re too kind, my friend, seems we’ll have to have it finished for a job well done, no?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms- The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon- Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland -Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF!- Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Quillary nods with a smile as Drusk explains. "More fully elf, you, than I, then."
Then she lets him be, and spends a little time talking to herself in odd susurrations while everyone gets ready.
OOC > She whispers to herself in Primordial, fwiw, which now that I've had time to check, is not listed on any of the other character sheets. So, double-secret private language!!
Once the party is assembled, she will lead the way, until it becomes clear she doesn't know where she is going and someone else (Hildi, likely?) leads the way.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
OOC > She whispers to herself in Primordial, fwiw, which now that I've had time to check, is not listed on any of the other character sheets. So, double-secret private language!!
(OOC: That is just a single-secret private language. If she was whispering Druidic translated to Primordial, then it would be double-secret private.)
The party makes it to the City Transport center in time, but it did require some hustling. Besides packing for an adventure trip, you had to lock up the Road's End. You found a street patrol, and informed the guards that the building is locked up for the next 7-10 days.
(One of the patrolmen looked a little too interested about the building being empty, so Hildigrim let it slip that there are traps inside the mansion that would rip the arms off of would-be thieves. The patrolman looks a lot less interested now.)
Jalester was correct in requesting that passengers arrive at the departure gate 60 minutes before the wagon departs, as there was a stack of parchments that had to be read and signed for the City Watch job contract.
Ten minutes before noon, you assemble at a pole with the number "3" on it. Two of the City Watch are standing there. They look a bit depressed, but are friendly to your group.
The first is an elf male with pale skin and blonde-almost-white hair. "You are the other passengers for the wagon to Amphail? Hello, I'm Black Bart."
The other guard is a lady earth-genasi, built like a sumo wrestler with volcanic-dark skin. "Hi, people call me Fanny the Fair. We'll be on the same wagon as you."
A large wagon rounds the corner, pulled by 4 horses with shaggy, knotted hair. Both guards start muttering when they see it. "Oh no, it's Stinky Peat! As if this two-day trip wasn't bad enough..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Jorin gives the guards a quizical look and says, "Black Bart and, uh Fanny Fair...how did you come by those names?"
They both shrug, as they didn't think anything was unusual about their nicknames.
Bart: "My skin and hair used to be quite light. But all this army training outdoors has darkened my complexion, as you can see."
Fanny: "My family helps organize some of the festivals and faires in our village near Waterdeep. I assumed it was that."
(OOC: Jorin has the military background, yes?) As Jorin talks with them, he can tell that they are not raw recruits, but also not experienced enough to be considered veterans.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Quillary seems put out by the paperwork, but does what she needs to. She introduces herself to the two guards, but only interacts with Bart if she must, so as a result she does not engage in the conversation Jorin starts. When the wagon comes, with the exclamations, she sidles up to Fanny and asks, "Which of the four is Peat?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
When the wagon comes, with the exclamations, she sidles up to Fanny and asks, "Which of the four is Peat?"
As the horses pull up, you understand the expression about how bad it smells in a horse's stable.
Except... the horses have been recently washed. All of that odor is coming from the driver. (OOC: Picture an older 49er from a classic western movie, except muddier.) The wagon stops next to the "3" pole. The driver speaks in a friendly cackle to the group waiting for the ride. "Stow your luggage in the boxes under the bench seats... With the additional cargo in back, it will be a tight squeeze for 6 of you. One of you will have to sit next to me."
Looking around, everyone (including Quillary) has a look of terror, hoping that someone else will take the figurative crossbow bolt for the group. After some hesitation, Drusk walks to the front of the wagon. "The elves in the monastery made me eat nasty things, as part of acolyte training. (Odd how I was the only one doing that training.) With my constitution, I should be able handle a few hours riding in the front."
The rest of you pile in back. It is cramped on the seats, shoulder to shoulder. Black Bart makes sure the canvas flap to the front of the wagon is tied as tightly as possible (to reduce the air flow from that direction), and opens up some of the flaps to the sides and the back (despite the chill in the air). With a "giddyap" the wagon lurches forward.
(OOC: The group can continue their conversations, if they wish... Hildi remembers everything about fermentation, if he wants to resume that discussion from earlier. And after meeting Stinky Peat, Hildi starts thinking about what happens when food goes bad.)
(OOC2: Any similarities with overcrowded airline trips, cramped seats, and passengers with BO, is purely coincidental.)
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Jorin takes one of his handaxes from his belt and begins trimming his nails with it. Despite the bumpy ride, he manages to do do without lopping off any fingers. He looks to Quillary, "What broght you do waterdeep?"
As the trip gets started, Quillary is grateful to not be sitting next to Peat. She also works hard to not sit next to Bart. In fact, she'll take a cramped spot next to Pascal's looming bulk.
Quillary looks up from where she is using a small elvish knife to carve an intricate pattern into one of the sideboards. It would seem to be the only piece of metal she owns. "Mm? Oh, I am searching for a six fingered man who murdered my father." She pauses, then smiles. "No, that is a jest. My father is alive and well, last I knew. It is just that I have... no reason to have come to Waterdeep, except that it was in front of me." She turns back to her carving. "Did you know that beetles smell out a dying tree, then burrow inside and create these beautiful tunnels that finish the job? You cannot see them until the tree is dead and the bark falls off. And then," she looks up at Jorin and anyone else who is listening. "Then a thousand little beetles hatch and come pouring out. Death from life. Life from death."
She looks back at the carving. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Without waiting for an answer, she puts the knife away and turns to the group. "And you? Jorin of the boat. Why are you far from home?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Jorin ponders Quillary's proverb and nods, "A good hunt feeds the village. Life from death, aye." and then adds, "It is, Bodt, though, not boat. Bodt is the name of my tribe. Boat is a vessel that crawls the water. I am traveling myself. As the son of the Maul family, my path was set for me. Eight years of childhood and eight years of learning the ways of my people. Then eight years in Mithril Hall learning the ways of the forge."
He pulls one of the battle axes of his belt and tilts the blade towards her, the blued steel catches the light revealing dwarven runes along with another etching of eight intersecting lines, "After The Hall, I headed out into the world for another eight years. I found my way to waterdeep during that time. Come the end of the year, I will be returning to my tribe to ring the anvil until death speaks my name." A solemn look passes over his face, for a brief moment, before it is replaced by a broad smile as he puts the battleaxe back on his belt, "Until then though, adventure!"
Quillary looks down in an oddly ladylike way (for the spirit of nature she seems to be) when Jorin corrects her. "Bodt, I am sorry. For some, origin is important, I have been told. I meant no disrespect."
She recoils a little at the shine of the worked metal, but she gives the axe a polite examination and seems to shake it off as Jorin puts the axe away. "Then you lived underground for eight years?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
As the trip commences, Hildigrim begins, “I couldn’t help but notice your ignorance where fermentation is concerned.” He then begins a long lecture on the process, finding joy in the speaking, and continuing even when no one is listening. He finishes by giving Quillary a friendly smile.
On the wagon, the halfling opens his pack and begins digging around. After a few seconds, his searching becomes a little frantic. Finally, he stops. “Hainard’s hairy toes! The diary’s gone!” He stares at nothing for a few seconds and then slaps his forehead. “It’s at the Charred Remains,” he pouts. He closes his pack and leans against the wagon wall scowling.
Quillary looks down in an oddly ladylike way (for the spirit of nature she seems to be) when Jorin corrects her. "Bodt, I am sorry. For some, origin is important, I have been told. I meant no disrespect."
She recoils a little at the shine of the worked metal, but she gives the axe a polite examination and seems to shake it off as Jorin puts the axe away. "Then you lived underground for eight years?"
Jorin smiles, "None taken, and, aye, underground with Moradin's kin for eight years."
Quillary is polite during Hildi's lesson about fermentation, but during that is when she pulls out her knife and starts doodling beetle galleries on the sideboard.
To Jorin's comment: "That is a part of the natural world with which I do not have much experience," she admits. "Certainly caves are no mystery to me, but the immense galleries and winding tunnels of an underground kingdom... I should like to see that one day."
To Hildi's scowl: "Do you keep a diary, then? Of your experiences? Or of your thoughts? I find they can diverge, though I do not record them."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Jorin smiles broadly, "Should we find ourselves near The Hall, I would be happy to show you. The winding tunnels are not unlike the design you carve. Is there meaning behind it?"
She looks back at the sideboard and runs a finger along one of the trails. "Meaning? Yes, this is how they breed... a central chamber, many paths to separate eggs, cutting through the tree in such a way that it cannot live. It is a cycle, the forest needs trees to die for the forest to survive." She looks up, curious. "Is that how it is under the mountains? Does the delving weaken the mountain itself, that the range may continue?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Hildigrim’s scowl disappears. “I’m afraid I know not what the diary contains. The language is Elvish, but the entries appear to be concealed in code. I’ve been studying the tome for years, trying to decipher the entries, but they continue to elude me. I recently left it at a book store in town. The proprietor thought she may know someone who might help me uncover the book’s secrets. I admit I feel a little lost without it on my person.” He gives a little shrug, then looks at the druid thoughtfully. “I’ve never considered keeping a journal of my own adventures.” His eyes shift from thought to wonder to excitement. “Of course!” He laughs a little nervous chuckle. “Master Volo has to start somewhere. Why couldn’t I?” Still looking intently in Quillary’s direction, but it seems he’s seeing more than the half-elf, Hildigrim nods. “What an excellent suggestion. I’ll start one as soon as we return.” He gives another little nod, then sits back, smiling.
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Quillary watches the group get ready, her attention drawn to Drusk as he gathers what he needs.
OOC > Going with Passive Insight 15 vs Drusk not trying to hide anything, but DM can tell me otherwise.
"It would appear we are both half elves, then," she says to him, noting some of his elven stuff. She looks about as the crew goes about their business. "What are the rest of them half of, then?" she asks, though Drusk is not sure the question was directed at him.
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Drusk responds honestly. (Can't deceive Passive Insight 15). "No no... Half-orc, half-human. But raised wholly by whole elves...
"To be honest, sometimes the other elf acolytes didn't act elf-like. Especially when they did things different than what they told me an elf should do. Don't know if that was their hearts being holy, if they were being half-hearted, or their flighty natures making them act like their heads were hole-ly."
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Pascal gives a toothy grin, “Ah, you’re too kind, my friend, seems we’ll have to have it finished for a job well done, no?”
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms - The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon - Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland - Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF! - Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Quillary nods with a smile as Drusk explains. "More fully elf, you, than I, then."
Then she lets him be, and spends a little time talking to herself in odd susurrations while everyone gets ready.
OOC > She whispers to herself in Primordial, fwiw, which now that I've had time to check, is not listed on any of the other character sheets. So, double-secret private language!!
Once the party is assembled, she will lead the way, until it becomes clear she doesn't know where she is going and someone else (Hildi, likely?) leads the way.
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
(OOC: That is just a single-secret private language. If she was whispering Druidic translated to Primordial, then it would be double-secret private.)
The party makes it to the City Transport center in time, but it did require some hustling. Besides packing for an adventure trip, you had to lock up the Road's End. You found a street patrol, and informed the guards that the building is locked up for the next 7-10 days.
(One of the patrolmen looked a little too interested about the building being empty, so Hildigrim let it slip that there are traps inside the mansion that would rip the arms off of would-be thieves. The patrolman looks a lot less interested now.)
Jalester was correct in requesting that passengers arrive at the departure gate 60 minutes before the wagon departs, as there was a stack of parchments that had to be read and signed for the City Watch job contract.
Ten minutes before noon, you assemble at a pole with the number "3" on it. Two of the City Watch are standing there. They look a bit depressed, but are friendly to your group.
A large wagon rounds the corner, pulled by 4 horses with shaggy, knotted hair. Both guards start muttering when they see it. "Oh no, it's Stinky Peat! As if this two-day trip wasn't bad enough..."
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Jorin gives the guards a quizical look and says, "Black Bart and, uh Fanny Fair...how did you come by those names?"
They both shrug, as they didn't think anything was unusual about their nicknames.
(OOC: Jorin has the military background, yes?) As Jorin talks with them, he can tell that they are not raw recruits, but also not experienced enough to be considered veterans.
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Quillary seems put out by the paperwork, but does what she needs to. She introduces herself to the two guards, but only interacts with Bart if she must, so as a result she does not engage in the conversation Jorin starts. When the wagon comes, with the exclamations, she sidles up to Fanny and asks, "Which of the four is Peat?"
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Pascal also sidles over to the genasi to listen.
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms - The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon - Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland - Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF! - Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
As the horses pull up, you understand the expression about how bad it smells in a horse's stable.
Except... the horses have been recently washed. All of that odor is coming from the driver. (OOC: Picture an older 49er from a classic western movie, except muddier.) The wagon stops next to the "3" pole. The driver speaks in a friendly cackle to the group waiting for the ride. "Stow your luggage in the boxes under the bench seats... With the additional cargo in back, it will be a tight squeeze for 6 of you. One of you will have to sit next to me."
Looking around, everyone (including Quillary) has a look of terror, hoping that someone else will take the figurative crossbow bolt for the group. After some hesitation, Drusk walks to the front of the wagon. "The elves in the monastery made me eat nasty things, as part of acolyte training. (Odd how I was the only one doing that training.) With my constitution, I should be able handle a few hours riding in the front."
The rest of you pile in back. It is cramped on the seats, shoulder to shoulder. Black Bart makes sure the canvas flap to the front of the wagon is tied as tightly as possible (to reduce the air flow from that direction), and opens up some of the flaps to the sides and the back (despite the chill in the air). With a "giddyap" the wagon lurches forward.
(OOC: The group can continue their conversations, if they wish... Hildi remembers everything about fermentation, if he wants to resume that discussion from earlier. And after meeting Stinky Peat, Hildi starts thinking about what happens when food goes bad.)
(OOC2: Any similarities with overcrowded airline trips, cramped seats, and passengers with BO, is purely coincidental.)
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Jorin takes one of his handaxes from his belt and begins trimming his nails with it. Despite the bumpy ride, he manages to do do without lopping off any fingers. He looks to Quillary, "What broght you do waterdeep?"
As the trip gets started, Quillary is grateful to not be sitting next to Peat. She also works hard to not sit next to Bart. In fact, she'll take a cramped spot next to Pascal's looming bulk.
Quillary looks up from where she is using a small elvish knife to carve an intricate pattern into one of the sideboards. It would seem to be the only piece of metal she owns. "Mm? Oh, I am searching for a six fingered man who murdered my father." She pauses, then smiles. "No, that is a jest. My father is alive and well, last I knew. It is just that I have... no reason to have come to Waterdeep, except that it was in front of me." She turns back to her carving. "Did you know that beetles smell out a dying tree, then burrow inside and create these beautiful tunnels that finish the job? You cannot see them until the tree is dead and the bark falls off. And then," she looks up at Jorin and anyone else who is listening. "Then a thousand little beetles hatch and come pouring out. Death from life. Life from death."
She looks back at the carving. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Without waiting for an answer, she puts the knife away and turns to the group. "And you? Jorin of the boat. Why are you far from home?"
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Jorin ponders Quillary's proverb and nods, "A good hunt feeds the village. Life from death, aye." and then adds, "It is, Bodt, though, not boat. Bodt is the name of my tribe. Boat is a vessel that crawls the water. I am traveling myself. As the son of the Maul family, my path was set for me. Eight years of childhood and eight years of learning the ways of my people. Then eight years in Mithril Hall learning the ways of the forge."
He pulls one of the battle axes of his belt and tilts the blade towards her, the blued steel catches the light revealing dwarven runes along with another etching of eight intersecting lines, "After The Hall, I headed out into the world for another eight years. I found my way to waterdeep during that time. Come the end of the year, I will be returning to my tribe to ring the anvil until death speaks my name." A solemn look passes over his face, for a brief moment, before it is replaced by a broad smile as he puts the battleaxe back on his belt, "Until then though, adventure!"
Quillary looks down in an oddly ladylike way (for the spirit of nature she seems to be) when Jorin corrects her. "Bodt, I am sorry. For some, origin is important, I have been told. I meant no disrespect."
She recoils a little at the shine of the worked metal, but she gives the axe a polite examination and seems to shake it off as Jorin puts the axe away. "Then you lived underground for eight years?"
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
As the trip commences, Hildigrim begins, “I couldn’t help but notice your ignorance where fermentation is concerned.” He then begins a long lecture on the process, finding joy in the speaking, and continuing even when no one is listening. He finishes by giving Quillary a friendly smile.
On the wagon, the halfling opens his pack and begins digging around. After a few seconds, his searching becomes a little frantic. Finally, he stops. “Hainard’s hairy toes! The diary’s gone!” He stares at nothing for a few seconds and then slaps his forehead. “It’s at the Charred Remains,” he pouts. He closes his pack and leans against the wagon wall scowling.
Jorin smiles, "None taken, and, aye, underground with Moradin's kin for eight years."
Quillary is polite during Hildi's lesson about fermentation, but during that is when she pulls out her knife and starts doodling beetle galleries on the sideboard.
To Jorin's comment: "That is a part of the natural world with which I do not have much experience," she admits. "Certainly caves are no mystery to me, but the immense galleries and winding tunnels of an underground kingdom... I should like to see that one day."
To Hildi's scowl: "Do you keep a diary, then? Of your experiences? Or of your thoughts? I find they can diverge, though I do not record them."
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Jorin smiles broadly, "Should we find ourselves near The Hall, I would be happy to show you. The winding tunnels are not unlike the design you carve. Is there meaning behind it?"
She looks back at the sideboard and runs a finger along one of the trails. "Meaning? Yes, this is how they breed... a central chamber, many paths to separate eggs, cutting through the tree in such a way that it cannot live. It is a cycle, the forest needs trees to die for the forest to survive." She looks up, curious. "Is that how it is under the mountains? Does the delving weaken the mountain itself, that the range may continue?"
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. I love it so.
Hildigrim’s scowl disappears. “I’m afraid I know not what the diary contains. The language is Elvish, but the entries appear to be concealed in code. I’ve been studying the tome for years, trying to decipher the entries, but they continue to elude me. I recently left it at a book store in town. The proprietor thought she may know someone who might help me uncover the book’s secrets. I admit I feel a little lost without it on my person.” He gives a little shrug, then looks at the druid thoughtfully. “I’ve never considered keeping a journal of my own adventures.” His eyes shift from thought to wonder to excitement. “Of course!” He laughs a little nervous chuckle. “Master Volo has to start somewhere. Why couldn’t I?” Still looking intently in Quillary’s direction, but it seems he’s seeing more than the half-elf, Hildigrim nods. “What an excellent suggestion. I’ll start one as soon as we return.” He gives another little nod, then sits back, smiling.