Barely looking up, he nods to Maghdim "Long enough to know how unpredictable this place can be."
He folds up his parchment and puts it away. He gazes again at Kierro and Corvus before settling his eyes on Maghdim. "Magic will help with some things, but not everything."
Before exiting, Zanyeras picks up his shield and holds it up so the crowd can see the emblem of Torm. He turns in a full circle bowing towards each section, then shoulders the shield, rests his warhammer on his other shoulder and calmly walks out.
"Can anyone direct me to the bathhouse?"
(You hear a friendly but unfamiliar voice behind you as you exit through the gate.)
”It’s outside the competitor entrance and to the right,” Kierro says. ”That was a good fight, by the way.”
Before exiting, Zanyeras picks up his shield and holds it up so the crowd can see the emblem of Tyr. He turns in a full circle bowing towards each section, then shoulders the shield, rests his warhammer on his other shoulder and calmly walks out.
"Can anyone direct me to the bathhouse?"
(You hear a friendly but unfamiliar voice behind you as you exit through the gate.)
”It’s outside the competitor entrance and to the right,” Kierro says. ”That was a good fight, by the way.”
Zanyeras' bows before Kierro. "Thank you for your guidance, and I'm glad you enjoyed our battle." He begins to make his way towards the bathhouse.
Leaving the arena Corvus heads back to his room at the inn. Sitting and taking notes detailing the March with special emphasis on the manner in which the creatures died. Then laid down to sleep for the night. After waking he changes into his new armor and hears to the blacksmith’s.
Zanyeras makes his way to the ticket office since he's not fighting today.
He's left his shield, armor and weapon at the local smithy to be oiled and polished, along with a small purse containing 10 gold. "Please check it over to see if there's anything in need of mending, and take special care to get the stink of those things off of it."
He's dressed out in his vestments, simple linen robes of black trimmed with grey, tiny balanced scales resting on a warhammer shine with a silvery gleam as they dangle from a chain about his neck. A pleasant scent wafts up from the incense burning in his censer as he absently swings it back and forth in time with his stride.
"Blessing of Tyr upon you all!" He nods his head to the ticket taker and gate guards, and passes over the entry fee along with 10 extra gold coins. "Please accept this as payment from Tyr for some of those too poor to afford to see the glories of our battles here."
He smiles, nods again, and walks in, finding the worst spot in the stadium to watch from...
”That sounds fair to me thank you. Now about that little project I mentioned last time.” Corvus pulls a.dart out. “In my work with the dead we have sometimes used devices similar to these darts but that were hollow inside the tip also being a hollow tube to remove or inject fluids in to the cadavers. Do you think you’d be able to make a dart with similar attributes? The tip having a narrow tube that connects to a hollow reservoir in the body?”
Damaia wakes up in the inn. She is a bit upset at both Kierro and herself at getting taken out so easily. She decides she needs a drink... or few. She goes downstairs and sits at the bar. She orders, "Ale. And keep it coming."
By this point, Damaia is on her fourth glass of ale. She's starting to get a bit tipsy. Anyone who walks past the bar will see her sitting at the front, tail swaying playfully from side to side as she continues to drink.
@DM: How do you handle drinking in the RP thread? Is there a specialized rule for it or do we just do whatever when it comes to RPing drinking/getting drunk?
Okay, while I wait for the DM to tell me if there is a specific rule in place for this campaign for drinking, I am going to roll DC10 CON for every glass of ale Damaia drunk. The more rolls obviously equals more failures and more failures equal more drunkness.
141353
Damaia had just finished her 4th glass and accepts the 5th which Maghdim is buying her. She is now noticeably getting drunk.
She responds, not slurring her words yet but definitely acting a bit off, "Yeah. Screw that sword and those dang cleric spells!"
Zanyeras returns from the smithy, still wearing his vestments. His armor is carefully bundled and tied to the back of his shield, along with his warhammer, which is currently being used as a handle. He bows to the room as he enters, then approaches the bar.
"Congratulations, all, it was quite an interesting battle today, I saw some innovative tactics." He passes a few gold across to the bartender. "Please allow me to buy you all a round!"
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“Not bad. Just doing some reading. I see you’ve gotten into magic as well. How’s that going?”
"Oh, just little tricks compared to powers as strong as yours. That last battle was....interesting to say the least."
He looks at Corvus and begins squiggling quickly on his parchment whispering "Insense...in...beak"
Looking back at Kierro he let's out a sigh "I'll need to do a lot to keep up with all of you."
Corvus
”Long enough to have lost twice.“
Barely looking up, he nods to Maghdim "Long enough to know how unpredictable this place can be."
He folds up his parchment and puts it away. He gazes again at Kierro and Corvus before settling his eyes on Maghdim. "Magic will help with some things, but not everything."
Before exiting, Zanyeras picks up his shield and holds it up so the crowd can see the emblem of Torm. He turns in a full circle bowing towards each section, then shoulders the shield, rests his warhammer on his other shoulder and calmly walks out.
"Can anyone direct me to the bathhouse?"
(You hear a friendly but unfamiliar voice behind you as you exit through the gate.)
”It’s outside the competitor entrance and to the right,” Kierro says. ”That was a good fight, by the way.”
Zanyeras' bows before Kierro. "Thank you for your guidance, and I'm glad you enjoyed our battle." He begins to make his way towards the bathhouse.
Corvus
Leaving the arena Corvus heads back to his room at the inn. Sitting and taking notes detailing the March with special emphasis on the manner in which the creatures died. Then laid down to sleep for the night. After waking he changes into his new armor and hears to the blacksmith’s.
Zanyeras makes his way to the ticket office since he's not fighting today.
He's left his shield, armor and weapon at the local smithy to be oiled and polished, along with a small purse containing 10 gold. "Please check it over to see if there's anything in need of mending, and take special care to get the stink of those things off of it."
He's dressed out in his vestments, simple linen robes of black trimmed with grey, tiny balanced scales resting on a warhammer shine with a silvery gleam as they dangle from a chain about his neck. A pleasant scent wafts up from the incense burning in his censer as he absently swings it back and forth in time with his stride.
"Blessing of Tyr upon you all!" He nods his head to the ticket taker and gate guards, and passes over the entry fee along with 10 extra gold coins. "Please accept this as payment from Tyr for some of those too poor to afford to see the glories of our battles here."
He smiles, nods again, and walks in, finding the worst spot in the stadium to watch from...
Corvus
Ducking into Brogan's Battle Gear "How much can I get for this?'' Corvus sets a set of Scale Mail down on the counter.
He looks it over for a couple minutes and then speaks up, "How's 35 gold sound?"
”That sounds fair to me thank you. Now about that little project I mentioned last time.” Corvus pulls a.dart out. “In my work with the dead we have sometimes used devices similar to these darts but that were hollow inside the tip also being a hollow tube to remove or inject fluids in to the cadavers. Do you think you’d be able to make a dart with similar attributes? The tip having a narrow tube that connects to a hollow reservoir in the body?”
Damaia wakes up in the inn. She is a bit upset at both Kierro and herself at getting taken out so easily. She decides she needs a drink... or few. She goes downstairs and sits at the bar. She orders, "Ale. And keep it coming."
Kierro bolts upright in his bed.
“...What is IN that gun?”
He decides to see if Melody’s shop has anything new.
By this point, Damaia is on her fourth glass of ale. She's starting to get a bit tipsy. Anyone who walks past the bar will see her sitting at the front, tail swaying playfully from side to side as she continues to drink.
@DM: How do you handle drinking in the RP thread? Is there a specialized rule for it or do we just do whatever when it comes to RPing drinking/getting drunk?
Damaia says words slowed a bit but not too much, "Yeah sure. I'm not going to say no to free drinks"
Okay, while I wait for the DM to tell me if there is a specific rule in place for this campaign for drinking, I am going to roll DC10 CON for every glass of ale Damaia drunk. The more rolls obviously equals more failures and more failures equal more drunkness.
14 13 5 3
Damaia had just finished her 4th glass and accepts the 5th which Maghdim is buying her. She is now noticeably getting drunk.
She responds, not slurring her words yet but definitely acting a bit off, "Yeah. Screw that sword and those dang cleric spells!"
"You're damn right I will! I won't be done in by some dumb ghost weapon!"
Damaia clinks her glass, spilling a few drops in the process and drinks the rest of it. 19
"You won't see me complaining. Teaming up makes things easier. Muscle in more people and all that." Damaia says as her 6th glass of ale arrives.
Damaia takes another drink from her glass and says, "That's a good idea!" She turns to the bartender and says, "A pitcher of ale."
Zanyeras returns from the smithy, still wearing his vestments. His armor is carefully bundled and tied to the back of his shield, along with his warhammer, which is currently being used as a handle. He bows to the room as he enters, then approaches the bar.
"Congratulations, all, it was quite an interesting battle today, I saw some innovative tactics." He passes a few gold across to the bartender. "Please allow me to buy you all a round!"