'Kestrell inspects the coin, counting out how much he was paid.'
[OOC] Perception check to see if he notices the lock on the chest has been tampered with: 11
'Kestrell counts ten gold pieces that Myren has just handed to each PC present. The innkeep detects nothing of particular note except Myren's mutterings as he makes his way towards the stairway alongside Alwin,'
"Oh... oh my... those two really are quite huge aren't they. And there are so many of these other ones. You all really must be great wariors..."
[OOC] Kestrell does not notice that the chest's lock has been opened.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Alwin just hears Kestrell's call and shrugs as he heads down to receive his coin and room. After listening to the man he just smiles a little "That sh...sh...should be fu..fuu...fun" He just turns around and ascends the stairs to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the area above him.
'Walking beside Myren up the stairs, Alwin hears the innkeep say in a voice that trails off into a mutter,'
"Ahh, yes, that it should, that it should, my good man. That robed tiefling woman was quite persuasive and I don't think the gnomish fellow with her stood still for even a heartbeat the whole time we spoke. As they offered to perform for meals and drinks, and things have been a little dour in these parts of late... well, more so that is, it seemed an offer too good to refuse.
Err, not that I refuse a lot of offers, as my Brenna keeps reminding me. 'You ought to say no more, Myren' is what she tells me. 'Don't be such a pushover, Myren' is another of her favourites. Of course, she's absolutley right, Field Mother bless her golden soul, which is why I'm such a lucky man to have her!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Smiting ones enemies is reward enough, though gold is rarely unwelcome."
'Wazzock follows Myren and Alwin up to the bar and takes her place there intent on finishing at least two or three mugs of cool ale as a part of her reward.'
Pyro follows up the stairs and orders a glass of wine.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I roll to seduce the Half-Orc.
Detective Pyro FlabberGhast the Air Genasi Rogue - Echoes of a Burning Crown (PBP) Praiya Everin the Half-Elf Dragon Born Sorcerer - The Shadows of Eternal Night Larkin Treespeaker the Wood elf Druid- The Champians of the Free North
"Smiting ones enemies is reward enough, though gold is rarely unwelcome."
'Wazzock follows Myren and Alwin up to the bar and takes her place there intent on finishing at least two or three mugs of cool ale as a part of her reward.'
'The staunch halforc easily secures a stool at the bar despite the quickly filling common room and Myren seems only too happy to line up a row of tankards atop the counter. Through the inn's open windows, Wazzock can see the waning sunlight beyond and the cleric watches as a steadily increasing stream of caravan guards, farmers and other locals enter the Oak for drinks, a meal and the possibility of company or entertainment.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Well, Wazzock, it has been an interesting evening so far. To think, I stopped in for a cool drink, and before I knew it we were in the thick of it!"
'Kestrell turns to Pyro and Gibbs':
"So, Pyro, Gibblet, you two are from a traveling circus you say? And you are going to perform tonight? Do you usually have such exhausting fights at all of the inns you perform in? Give me a hint about your performance, what are we going to see at your show?"
Pyro follows up the stairs and orders a glass of wine.
'A plain-faced human girl with something of Myren's eyes and nose approaches Pyro and at the request for wine, says,'
"Aye, miss. Wine we can do, at least now that some brave adventurers have killed the monsters that had taken over pa's cellar. That'll be two silver for a pitcher, it will."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Well, Wazzock, it has been an interesting evening so far. To think, I stopped in for a cool drink, and before I knew it we were in the thick of it!"
'Kestrell turns to Pyro and Gibbs':
"So, Pyro, Gibblet, you two are from a traveling circus you say? And you are going to perform tonight? Do you usually have such exhausting fights at all of the inns you perform in? Give me a hint about your performance, what are we going to see at your show?"
'A seemingly exhausted Pyro sits herself at one of the few remaining empty tables, hailing a passing barmaid with an order for wine. The gobling Gibbs squints his eyes at Kestrell's questioning of his origins, his top lip curling up slightly as he responds,'
"Gibbs come with circus, yes. Tell you that already, elf-blood. Not girl though.
And no, Gibbs not does shows no more. Not... no more. Gibbs hero now. Does hero tricks now!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"I've only met Gibbs today. I am from the Kingdom of Tridents which is found in the sea of Sceptors. What about you Kestrell?"
Pyro raises an eyebrow.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I roll to seduce the Half-Orc.
Detective Pyro FlabberGhast the Air Genasi Rogue - Echoes of a Burning Crown (PBP) Praiya Everin the Half-Elf Dragon Born Sorcerer - The Shadows of Eternal Night Larkin Treespeaker the Wood elf Druid- The Champians of the Free North
"Kingdom of Tridents in the Sea of Sceptors, huh? Is that near the Harbor of Halberds? Or the Haven of Harpoons?"Kestrell asks with a chuckle.
"I'm a cobbler by trade." Kestrell looks down at her boots curiously."Specializing in hard to fit, feet."
"But, I have recently discovered..."Kestrell leans in closer and whispers"That I have some magical ability. I'm not very good at it. It gets away from me sometimes, so am on my way to learn how to control it better."
Alwin just sat with the group – his hands shyly twisting the glass as everyone talked around him. He would occasionally raise it for a drink, glad for the small relief of not having the questions asked of him. He wasn’t as interesting as these other fellows anyways – at least they seemed to find some use for him downstairs and for right now that has placed a somewhat small satisfaction in him.
‘I must continue onward to bring honor – maybe this group would be willing to help…but I don’t want to bother them either. It seems they already kind of forgot I was here, or I'm just not that interesting.’ he thought to himself as he became lost in his thoughts, staring down into the liquid in his glass.
"Magic huh? I wish i could do some of that, most i could do is make someone float"
Pyro chuckles
"And what about you Alwin, you're awfully quiet. Tell us about yourself."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I roll to seduce the Half-Orc.
Detective Pyro FlabberGhast the Air Genasi Rogue - Echoes of a Burning Crown (PBP) Praiya Everin the Half-Elf Dragon Born Sorcerer - The Shadows of Eternal Night Larkin Treespeaker the Wood elf Druid- The Champians of the Free North
Alwin jolted out of his thoughts, caught off guard by the question guided his way. He just took a deep breath “I…I…come fr…fr…from…” he takes a deep breath “I come fr…fr..from Elm…elmcrest. You m..m..may have heard of m…m…my father Em…em…emissary Pawraek.” He just took a sip of his drink as he just begins to turn a little red “I…I’m s…sorry, I st..st…stutter…” his hand grips into a fist, as if a natural habit when trying to break through “when I’m ner…ner…nervous. I tr..try not to tal…k much, no one wa…wants to lis…lis…listen to a ha…lf breed like me anyways.” He just looks down, it is clear from the image he wears on his face that not only has he had to work through the issue of being a half elf to a noble, he’s been berated for his stutter as well.
"Kingdom of Tridents in the Sea of Sceptors, huh? Is that near the Harbor of Halberds? Or the Haven of Harpoons?"Kestrell asks with a chuckle.
"I'm a cobbler by trade." Kestrell looks down at her boots curiously."Specializing in hard to fit, feet."
"But, I have recently discovered..."Kestrell leans in closer and whispers"That I have some magical ability. I'm not very good at it. It gets away from me sometimes, so am on my way to learn how to control it better."
'Gibbs studies the half-elf closely, one eyebrow cocked in apparent interest,'
"Not good, you say. Burn and freeze, yes? Seem good to Gibbs, yes. YESSS! Where you go to learn control, elf-blood? Where you going?"
[OOC] You may all make insight checks and read the spoiler below with a score of 15 or more:
'Gibbs seems genuinely curious about two things right now - Kestrell's talk of magic control and the large iron tankard of mead in front of the gobling. As the yellow-green skinned man continues to scrutinise the sorcerer waiting for his response, he alternates between stooping low over the table to *slurp* from his tankard and sitting up high, fidgeting with his hands below the table as he glances around with narrowed eyes.'
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Bah, arcane magic. Too risky if you ask Wazzock. Listen, if you want reliable spellcasting, you might try asking the gods on high. Even gods as temperamental as my own; they've gifted me with as much as they've taken far as I see it." 'Wazzock talks while chewing on a chicken leg, spewing flecks of partially chewed meat on those nearest her.'
'As the light outside the inn's oft-opening and closing front door fades to dusk, the trickle of incoming patrons continues. With barely a free chair or stool in the house, the noise level of boisterous banter, good natured jibes and ribald laughter carries welcomingly above the lantern-lit heads of all present. Myren, as well as a stout woman and freckled teenage girl, who all appear intimately familiar enough with each other to be kin, are hard-pressed to meet the continuous orders for food and drink that come roling in, though keep up the three somehow do.
The enticing smells of honey roasted boar, spiced potatos and fresh baked garlic bread permeate the room, much to the apparent pleasure of the inn's patrons. Tired miners and farmers, who make up the majority of the people present, seem greatly cheered to find that cool ale and Myren's full assortment of beers and meads are once again available. A number of friendly smiles and acknowledging nods are sent your way as word seems to spread that your group is the likely cause of this most desirable situation.
Just as the woman you assume to be Myren's wife is carving and serving the main meal, and her husband is busily pouring tankard-after-mug-after-tankard at the bar, a curious quartet enter the inn's common room. All but one is distinctive in their own different way, standing out from the majority of the inn's run-of-the-mill patrons. Perhaps the most standoutish is a hulkng bareskinned figure, almost as broad and deep in the chest as he is tall. The block-like figure resembles nothing so much as a walking mound of earth and rock, only discernable as a man on account of his crude trousers, three fingered tree-like arms and black orbs for eyes. The next largest of the four is a tall, red-skinned tiefling woman with a confident stride and daring stare. The exotic looking woman's allure is rakishly enhanced by her form-fitting grey leathers and black satin cloak. As she swaggers into the inn, casting smiles and winks about with abandon, the smallest of the four proceeds to tumble through her legs, before rolling along the floor and then springing up onto a nearby table with amazing agility. The fiery afro-headed gnome with the pale skin and blackened eyes kicks an offending roast potato from the fork of a farmer at the table, sending the confused mans friends into fits of uproarious laughter. The gnomish clown then cartwheels off the table, snagging a laughing mans pork crackle as he does so, to the hoots and hollers of the caravan guards and halforc at the next table. The last of the newcomers seems far less notable, conspicuous for no other reason than the contrast he or she provides and the company kept. The slight and innocuous figure is all-but entirely concealed beneath a thick travelling cloak and voluminous hood.
The concelead figure and the hulking earth genasi somehow secure a table near the inn's door, while the bold tiefling and ever-moving gnome make their way to the bar to speak with Myren, the tiefling woman shouting ahead of herself loud enough to be heard above the din,'
"Ahh, Myren ye lucky son-of-a-leprechaun. We have returned as promised to grant ye and yers a fine show. Ready our meals and drinks, for bein' this wonderous is appetite buildin' work, I can assure ye!"
[OOC] Everyone may make perception checks and read the spoilers relevant to the score they achieve:
DC 10:
'The mix of patrons in the room is predominantly human, dwarvish and gnomish, though there is a handful of lizardfolk at one table and a small group of loud and rowdy centaur drinking out beyond the inn's front door. Myren is standing at the bar, showing off one of the smaller (but still large) wasps that the unusually emboldened man must have retrieved from the cellar to show his customers. The proprietor looks up and twirl's his mustache at the eclectic group's entrance and the tiefling's greeting.'
DC 15:
'One of the lizardfolk at the nearby table seems to command the respect and attention of the other three. While all four figures stand six-feet tall or more and are dressed in the worn though well-maintained attire of trade professionals, the larger figure wears plain black leather pants and vest, and positively dwarfs the others at over seven feet of height. A single platiumum ring pierces and adorns the man's snout.
At the next table over, three caravan guards (two human men and a female dwarf) are laughing at something a one-handed half-orc is holding up. The half-orc's greying hair is thin and fast dissapearing from his balding pate, though there's a livelyness to the man's actions and laugh.'
DC 20:
'As the cloaked figure and earth genasi approached their selected table, they'd been beat to the the chairs by another group of six burly dirt-faced miners. Eyeing up the imposing granite faced man, the larger group had seemed in the process of making a claim for the table, until the concealing hood of the smaller figure had lifted ever-so-slightly. This had apparently been enough to change the group's mind, with all six of the hardened men moving away to stand in a group near the bar.
A lean figure in a shimmering chain shirt, with the hilt of an impressively long greatsword showing over her left shoulder, stands quietly watching the exchange from the the corner of the room near an asceding stairwell. The woman's long silver hair is braided intricately, and her white-blue tinted skin and sharply pointed brows and ears mark her moon elf heritage for all to see.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Hey, making someone float is pretty good! I can't do that. I am sure that comes in handy for the circus!"
Kestrell turns to Alwin:
"I haven't heard of your father. What is he an emissary for? Don't worry about your stutter, mate! If people don't like it, they shouldn't get the honor of fighting alongside you, much as we just did!"
Kestrell responds to Gibbs:
"Oh yes, burn them, then freeze them. I can do that. I can do some little, fairly low power, I guess you would say, spells. But anything bigger than that, and I don't have as much control as I should. I'm on my way to the Kingdom of Leyinthalar. My aunt said there are teachers there who can show me how to gain control of these magics before I hurt somebody."
'Kestrell smiles at Wazzock:'
"That is not a bad idea there Wazzock, I may try that if my current path doesn't work out. And who is your patron deity?"
"Oh yes, burn them, then freeze them. I can do that. I can do some little, fairly low power, I guess you would say, spells. But anything bigger than that, and I don't have as much control as I should. I'm on my way to the Kingdom of Leyinthalar. My aunt said there are teachers there who can show me how to gain control of these magics before I hurt somebody."
'At the mention of the powerful Elvish kingdom, Gibbs screws up his face and spits to the side,'
"Elf-blood with fire and frost, good man. Useful man. Full-elves... FOOL elves, not good, not useful. Dangerous though... yes, dangerous! Kiss-yell wise to seek teachin'... elsewhere!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
With a loud boom, the door to inn swings open. In steps a very large man, standing just under 8ft tall, having to duck his head to get through the door. He has grey skin, mottled with dark and light patches in interesting patterns. He has what you would consider a giant sword for a smaller man strapped to his back. He's wearing hide pants and a fur vest made from some kind of animal.
"Ahh, sorry." says the hulking man as he turns to close the door softly. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength." He gives a very warm, welcoming smile as he turns back to the room. He will do a quick perception check as he looks over the people in the room: 4
He carefully approaches the bar, trying not to bother too many people. Once he gets Myren's attention, he will say. "Hello good sir. Are you Myren? I heard you were a good man! I am looking for someone named Fangstalker Broom. Is he staying here?"
With a loud boom, the door to inn swings open. In steps a very large man, standing just under 8ft tall, having to duck his head to get through the door. He has grey skin, mottled with dark and light patches in interesting patterns. He has what you would consider a giant sword for a smaller man strapped to his back. He's wearing hide pants and a fur vest made from some kind of animal.
"Ahh, sorry." says the hulking man as he turns to close the door softly. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength." He gives a very warm, welcoming smile as he turns back to the room. He will do a quick perception check as he looks over the people in the room: 19
He carefully approaches the bar, trying not to bother too many people. Once he gets Myren's attention, he will say. "Hello good sir. Are you Myren? I heard you were a good man! I am looking for someone named Fangstalker Broom. Is he staying here?"
'As the imposing figue had strode up to the door, five young centaur raising tankards outside the inn's entrance pause their banter to watch warily as the huge man barges his way into the common room. At the *CRASH* off the door slamming into the wall an involuntary hush falls momentarily over the room. At the enormous man's apology and smile, conversation gradually returns, though a number of heads continue to follow the massive newcomer as he makes his way to the bar. The mustachioed innkeeper, clearly daunted by the size and directness of hide-clad man, furiously twirls the left side of his facial adornment as he stammers out,'
"Ahh, err, umm, ye... ye... yes, I am. Umm, err, ahh... Myren that is. He's me. I mean, I'm him. Yes, yes... I certainly am!"
'Merely standing for a few drawn out wide-eyed moments, the apron-clad man eventually blinks a few times, before seemingly remembering himself. With a nervous *cough* and a clearing of his throat, Myren continues,'
"Ahh, Broom you say? No... I mean, yes. I mean, no, he's not here right now, but yes, he is staying here. Err, yes, that's it. Exactly how it is, indeed!
Umm, would you like to wait... with a tankard perhaps? We've cool ale again, courtesy of some brave newcomers to town..."
'The clearly anxious man's words trail off as he pours a large metal stein full of frothy ale before the giant new arrival even answers, which Myren then places upon the full bar before looking around at the realisation that there are no free stools available.'
[OOC] With your perception check, read the relevant spoilers from post #527. The huge man also notices a burly, dirt-stained dwarf three stools down handling what appears to be a large dead insect - possibly a bee or wasp.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
'Kestrell counts ten gold pieces that Myren has just handed to each PC present. The innkeep detects nothing of particular note except Myren's mutterings as he makes his way towards the stairway alongside Alwin,'
"Oh... oh my... those two really are quite huge aren't they. And there are so many of these other ones. You all really must be great wariors..."
[OOC] Kestrell does not notice that the chest's lock has been opened.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Walking beside Myren up the stairs, Alwin hears the innkeep say in a voice that trails off into a mutter,'
"Ahh, yes, that it should, that it should, my good man. That robed tiefling woman was quite persuasive and I don't think the gnomish fellow with her stood still for even a heartbeat the whole time we spoke. As they offered to perform for meals and drinks, and things have been a little dour in these parts of late... well, more so that is, it seemed an offer too good to refuse.
Err, not that I refuse a lot of offers, as my Brenna keeps reminding me. 'You ought to say no more, Myren' is what she tells me. 'Don't be such a pushover, Myren' is another of her favourites. Of course, she's absolutley right, Field Mother bless her golden soul, which is why I'm such a lucky man to have her!"
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"Smiting ones enemies is reward enough, though gold is rarely unwelcome."
'Wazzock follows Myren and Alwin up to the bar and takes her place there intent on finishing at least two or three mugs of cool ale as a part of her reward.'
~♡~
Pyro follows up the stairs and orders a glass of wine.
I roll to seduce the Half-Orc.
Detective Pyro FlabberGhast the Air Genasi Rogue - Echoes of a Burning Crown (PBP)
Praiya Everin the Half-Elf Dragon Born Sorcerer - The Shadows of Eternal Night
Larkin Treespeaker the Wood elf Druid- The Champians of the Free North
'The staunch halforc easily secures a stool at the bar despite the quickly filling common room and Myren seems only too happy to line up a row of tankards atop the counter. Through the inn's open windows, Wazzock can see the waning sunlight beyond and the cleric watches as a steadily increasing stream of caravan guards, farmers and other locals enter the Oak for drinks, a meal and the possibility of company or entertainment.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Kestrell follows Wazzock and Pyro upstairs.'
"Well, Wazzock, it has been an interesting evening so far. To think, I stopped in for a cool drink, and before I knew it we were in the thick of it!"
'Kestrell turns to Pyro and Gibbs':
"So, Pyro, Gibblet, you two are from a traveling circus you say? And you are going to perform tonight? Do you usually have such exhausting fights at all of the inns you perform in? Give me a hint about your performance, what are we going to see at your show?"
'A plain-faced human girl with something of Myren's eyes and nose approaches Pyro and at the request for wine, says,'
"Aye, miss. Wine we can do, at least now that some brave adventurers have killed the monsters that had taken over pa's cellar. That'll be two silver for a pitcher, it will."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'A seemingly exhausted Pyro sits herself at one of the few remaining empty tables, hailing a passing barmaid with an order for wine. The gobling Gibbs squints his eyes at Kestrell's questioning of his origins, his top lip curling up slightly as he responds,'
"Gibbs come with circus, yes. Tell you that already, elf-blood. Not girl though.
And no, Gibbs not does shows no more. Not... no more. Gibbs hero now. Does hero tricks now!"
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"I've only met Gibbs today. I am from the Kingdom of Tridents which is found in the sea of Sceptors. What about you Kestrell?"
Pyro raises an eyebrow.
I roll to seduce the Half-Orc.
Detective Pyro FlabberGhast the Air Genasi Rogue - Echoes of a Burning Crown (PBP)
Praiya Everin the Half-Elf Dragon Born Sorcerer - The Shadows of Eternal Night
Larkin Treespeaker the Wood elf Druid- The Champians of the Free North
"Kingdom of Tridents in the Sea of Sceptors, huh? Is that near the Harbor of Halberds? Or the Haven of Harpoons?" Kestrell asks with a chuckle.
"I'm a cobbler by trade." Kestrell looks down at her boots curiously. "Specializing in hard to fit, feet."
"But, I have recently discovered..." Kestrell leans in closer and whispers "That I have some magical ability. I'm not very good at it. It gets away from me sometimes, so am on my way to learn how to control it better."
Alwin just sat with the group – his hands shyly twisting the glass as everyone talked around him. He would occasionally raise it for a drink, glad for the small relief of not having the questions asked of him. He wasn’t as interesting as these other fellows anyways – at least they seemed to find some use for him downstairs and for right now that has placed a somewhat small satisfaction in him.
‘I must continue onward to bring honor – maybe this group would be willing to help…but I don’t want to bother them either. It seems they already kind of forgot I was here, or I'm just not that interesting.’ he thought to himself as he became lost in his thoughts, staring down into the liquid in his glass.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
"Magic huh? I wish i could do some of that, most i could do is make someone float"
Pyro chuckles
"And what about you Alwin, you're awfully quiet. Tell us about yourself."
I roll to seduce the Half-Orc.
Detective Pyro FlabberGhast the Air Genasi Rogue - Echoes of a Burning Crown (PBP)
Praiya Everin the Half-Elf Dragon Born Sorcerer - The Shadows of Eternal Night
Larkin Treespeaker the Wood elf Druid- The Champians of the Free North
Alwin jolted out of his thoughts, caught off guard by the question guided his way. He just took a deep breath “I…I…come fr…fr…from…” he takes a deep breath “I come fr…fr..from Elm…elmcrest. You m..m..may have heard of m…m…my father Em…em…emissary Pawraek.” He just took a sip of his drink as he just begins to turn a little red “I…I’m s…sorry, I st..st…stutter…” his hand grips into a fist, as if a natural habit when trying to break through “when I’m ner…ner…nervous. I tr..try not to tal…k much, no one wa…wants to lis…lis…listen to a ha…lf breed like me anyways.” He just looks down, it is clear from the image he wears on his face that not only has he had to work through the issue of being a half elf to a noble, he’s been berated for his stutter as well.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
'Gibbs studies the half-elf closely, one eyebrow cocked in apparent interest,'
"Not good, you say. Burn and freeze, yes? Seem good to Gibbs, yes. YESSS! Where you go to learn control, elf-blood? Where you going?"
[OOC] You may all make insight checks and read the spoiler below with a score of 15 or more:
'Gibbs seems genuinely curious about two things right now - Kestrell's talk of magic control and the large iron tankard of mead in front of the gobling. As the yellow-green skinned man continues to scrutinise the sorcerer waiting for his response, he alternates between stooping low over the table to *slurp* from his tankard and sitting up high, fidgeting with his hands below the table as he glances around with narrowed eyes.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"Bah, arcane magic. Too risky if you ask Wazzock. Listen, if you want reliable spellcasting, you might try asking the gods on high. Even gods as temperamental as my own; they've gifted me with as much as they've taken far as I see it." 'Wazzock talks while chewing on a chicken leg, spewing flecks of partially chewed meat on those nearest her.'
~♡~
'As the light outside the inn's oft-opening and closing front door fades to dusk, the trickle of incoming patrons continues. With barely a free chair or stool in the house, the noise level of boisterous banter, good natured jibes and ribald laughter carries welcomingly above the lantern-lit heads of all present. Myren, as well as a stout woman and freckled teenage girl, who all appear intimately familiar enough with each other to be kin, are hard-pressed to meet the continuous orders for food and drink that come roling in, though keep up the three somehow do.
The enticing smells of honey roasted boar, spiced potatos and fresh baked garlic bread permeate the room, much to the apparent pleasure of the inn's patrons. Tired miners and farmers, who make up the majority of the people present, seem greatly cheered to find that cool ale and Myren's full assortment of beers and meads are once again available. A number of friendly smiles and acknowledging nods are sent your way as word seems to spread that your group is the likely cause of this most desirable situation.
Just as the woman you assume to be Myren's wife is carving and serving the main meal, and her husband is busily pouring tankard-after-mug-after-tankard at the bar, a curious quartet enter the inn's common room. All but one is distinctive in their own different way, standing out from the majority of the inn's run-of-the-mill patrons. Perhaps the most standoutish is a hulkng bareskinned figure, almost as broad and deep in the chest as he is tall. The block-like figure resembles nothing so much as a walking mound of earth and rock, only discernable as a man on account of his crude trousers, three fingered tree-like arms and black orbs for eyes. The next largest of the four is a tall, red-skinned tiefling woman with a confident stride and daring stare. The exotic looking woman's allure is rakishly enhanced by her form-fitting grey leathers and black satin cloak. As she swaggers into the inn, casting smiles and winks about with abandon, the smallest of the four proceeds to tumble through her legs, before rolling along the floor and then springing up onto a nearby table with amazing agility. The fiery afro-headed gnome with the pale skin and blackened eyes kicks an offending roast potato from the fork of a farmer at the table, sending the confused mans friends into fits of uproarious laughter. The gnomish clown then cartwheels off the table, snagging a laughing mans pork crackle as he does so, to the hoots and hollers of the caravan guards and halforc at the next table. The last of the newcomers seems far less notable, conspicuous for no other reason than the contrast he or she provides and the company kept. The slight and innocuous figure is all-but entirely concealed beneath a thick travelling cloak and voluminous hood.
The concelead figure and the hulking earth genasi somehow secure a table near the inn's door, while the bold tiefling and ever-moving gnome make their way to the bar to speak with Myren, the tiefling woman shouting ahead of herself loud enough to be heard above the din,'
"Ahh, Myren ye lucky son-of-a-leprechaun. We have returned as promised to grant ye and yers a fine show. Ready our meals and drinks, for bein' this wonderous is appetite buildin' work, I can assure ye!"
[OOC] Everyone may make perception checks and read the spoilers relevant to the score they achieve:
DC 10:
'The mix of patrons in the room is predominantly human, dwarvish and gnomish, though there is a handful of lizardfolk at one table and a small group of loud and rowdy centaur drinking out beyond the inn's front door. Myren is standing at the bar, showing off one of the smaller (but still large) wasps that the unusually emboldened man must have retrieved from the cellar to show his customers. The proprietor looks up and twirl's his mustache at the eclectic group's entrance and the tiefling's greeting.'
DC 15:
'One of the lizardfolk at the nearby table seems to command the respect and attention of the other three. While all four figures stand six-feet tall or more and are dressed in the worn though well-maintained attire of trade professionals, the larger figure wears plain black leather pants and vest, and positively dwarfs the others at over seven feet of height. A single platiumum ring pierces and adorns the man's snout.
At the next table over, three caravan guards (two human men and a female dwarf) are laughing at something a one-handed half-orc is holding up. The half-orc's greying hair is thin and fast dissapearing from his balding pate, though there's a livelyness to the man's actions and laugh.'
DC 20:
'As the cloaked figure and earth genasi approached their selected table, they'd been beat to the the chairs by another group of six burly dirt-faced miners. Eyeing up the imposing granite faced man, the larger group had seemed in the process of making a claim for the table, until the concealing hood of the smaller figure had lifted ever-so-slightly. This had apparently been enough to change the group's mind, with all six of the hardened men moving away to stand in a group near the bar.
A lean figure in a shimmering chain shirt, with the hilt of an impressively long greatsword showing over her left shoulder, stands quietly watching the exchange from the the corner of the room near an asceding stairwell. The woman's long silver hair is braided intricately, and her white-blue tinted skin and sharply pointed brows and ears mark her moon elf heritage for all to see.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Kestrell tells Pyro:'
"Hey, making someone float is pretty good! I can't do that. I am sure that comes in handy for the circus!"
Kestrell turns to Alwin:
"I haven't heard of your father. What is he an emissary for? Don't worry about your stutter, mate! If people don't like it, they shouldn't get the honor of fighting alongside you, much as we just did!"
Kestrell responds to Gibbs:
"Oh yes, burn them, then freeze them. I can do that. I can do some little, fairly low power, I guess you would say, spells. But anything bigger than that, and I don't have as much control as I should. I'm on my way to the Kingdom of Leyinthalar. My aunt said there are teachers there who can show me how to gain control of these magics before I hurt somebody."
'Kestrell smiles at Wazzock:'
"That is not a bad idea there Wazzock, I may try that if my current path doesn't work out. And who is your patron deity?"
'At the mention of the powerful Elvish kingdom, Gibbs screws up his face and spits to the side,'
"Elf-blood with fire and frost, good man. Useful man. Full-elves... FOOL elves, not good, not useful. Dangerous though... yes, dangerous! Kiss-yell wise to seek teachin'... elsewhere!"
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
With a loud boom, the door to inn swings open. In steps a very large man, standing just under 8ft tall, having to duck his head to get through the door. He has grey skin, mottled with dark and light patches in interesting patterns. He has what you would consider a giant sword for a smaller man strapped to his back. He's wearing hide pants and a fur vest made from some kind of animal.
"Ahh, sorry." says the hulking man as he turns to close the door softly. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength." He gives a very warm, welcoming smile as he turns back to the room. He will do a quick perception check as he looks over the people in the room: 4
He carefully approaches the bar, trying not to bother too many people. Once he gets Myren's attention, he will say. "Hello good sir. Are you Myren? I heard you were a good man! I am looking for someone named Fangstalker Broom. Is he staying here?"
'As the imposing figue had strode up to the door, five young centaur raising tankards outside the inn's entrance pause their banter to watch warily as the huge man barges his way into the common room. At the *CRASH* off the door slamming into the wall an involuntary hush falls momentarily over the room. At the enormous man's apology and smile, conversation gradually returns, though a number of heads continue to follow the massive newcomer as he makes his way to the bar. The mustachioed innkeeper, clearly daunted by the size and directness of hide-clad man, furiously twirls the left side of his facial adornment as he stammers out,'
"Ahh, err, umm, ye... ye... yes, I am. Umm, err, ahh... Myren that is. He's me. I mean, I'm him. Yes, yes... I certainly am!"
'Merely standing for a few drawn out wide-eyed moments, the apron-clad man eventually blinks a few times, before seemingly remembering himself. With a nervous *cough* and a clearing of his throat, Myren continues,'
"Ahh, Broom you say? No... I mean, yes. I mean, no, he's not here right now, but yes, he is staying here. Err, yes, that's it. Exactly how it is, indeed!
Umm, would you like to wait... with a tankard perhaps? We've cool ale again, courtesy of some brave newcomers to town..."
'The clearly anxious man's words trail off as he pours a large metal stein full of frothy ale before the giant new arrival even answers, which Myren then places upon the full bar before looking around at the realisation that there are no free stools available.'
[OOC] With your perception check, read the relevant spoilers from post #527. The huge man also notices a burly, dirt-stained dwarf three stools down handling what appears to be a large dead insect - possibly a bee or wasp.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea