Vanzaren sighs, "What I'm trying to say Marcon, is that these Redbrands are either going to come after me or Rigel. If I'm the circus master they might come after me because I run the show, they wouldn't be interested in the likes of you because you would all be taking your orders from me. No offense of course," he nods to Rigel, "but work in the circus for long enough and the groups that run cities are always interested in the person who runs the operation, not the person who control the funds. And I'm the only person here who's spent enough time in the circus to be able to play the role of a circus master. Never thought that I would leave the circus only to start my own days later."
Ronk blinks slowly at Vanzaren, taking a moment to mull over the wizard's words. He shrugs. "There haven't been any pitchforks yet. You can never know a real answer if the question is never asked." The bugbears frowns and scratches his chin, looking confused. "Or did my master mean that the question doesn't have to be asked for the answer to be known..."
Marcon huffs, and in a slightly more irritated voice now says, "Let me both re-ITerate and clarify for you, see'n as those sharp ears of yours are apparently not so good at catching new-juan-censes. What I said -- In no certain terms mind'ja -- is that plan don't make me feel any better. Regardless of whose bein' targeted, or why, or where. " He finished rising on that final point as he adds, "Now, Mr. Rigel here wisely said we can sleep on it. And if'n folk in the morn'n still wanna do it then... then fine, I guess."Marcon then looks over to the bugbear, start to say something, only for no words to leave his mouth prior to making a funny face and leaving the table, shaking his head as he began in earnest seeking out the tavern owner.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Sildar listens as the group deliberates over their next course of action. Finding a break in the conversation, he interjects: "This is my first night in Phandalin, so I'm afraid I don't know much more about the locals than all of you. The names 'Glasstaff' and 'Black Spider' are foreign to me, but they sound rather ominous. I'm afraid I need a little more rest before I will be of much use, especially if you mean to adjudicate the Redbrands by force. I must retire for the evening, but the townmaster will be here in the morning to discuss the state of affairs in Phandalin at the eighth hour of the morrow. In the meantime, may you all enjoy some relative safety."
The weary gentlemen tips his brow to the group and takes his leave of them, ascending a narrow staircase in the corner of the tavern to the balcony above and then through one of six wooden doors into the modest accommodations of the Stonehill Inn. Meanwhile, Garet and his goblin "passengers" wander eastward along the earthen lane that divides the small settlement between the north and south. After passing only a few buildings, he sees several drunken hooligans spilling out of a small wood-sided establishment into the street. None of the drunks notice him, but Garet can pick out the word "Glasstaff" several times amid their slurred whoops and shouts.
Back inside the Stonehill Inn, the young barkeep wanders over to the table where the party is gathered. Speaking in a calm and mannerly voice: "Last call, I'm afraid. For drinks and rooms. I'm afraid I don't enough room left for...everyone..." he stumbles over his words as he casts an unintentional glance at Ronk, "...but the Alderleaf farm has a hayloft that they make available to any who needs a roof for the night. Just be careful to avoid the Sleeping Giant across the road...this time o' day the Redbrands are sure deep in their cups and itchin' for a fight."
Ronk gives a small wave when when the barkeep looks at him. He seems unperturbed, but his shoulders sag slightly when they're told about the sleeping arrangements. "A hayloft is better than the woods, at least. Might need someone to come along to help ask, though..."
"Don't worry my fuzzy friend I'll vouch for ya. Let's go collect Garet and find this loft. Bartender! Where might we find this quality establishment of which you speak?"
BARKEEP TO RIGEL: "The Alderleaf Farm is in the far southeast corner of town. Go one block south of here and you'll see a big building with the head of a lion painted in blue on the sign out front - that's the Coster. Hang a left and go until you run out of road. You'll probably find Ms. Alderleaf's boy Carp before you find her...wild imagination, that one."
Outside, Garet notices that all of the drunken men have some sort of red sash tied around their waist or draped around their neck like a scarf. Then his eye catches a small dog trotting up the lane towards him. As it passes by the group of drunks, one of them kicks the pup hard it its ribs and the four men have a hearty laugh about it. The dog yelps in pain and quickly limps off to the north.
Marcon's eyes lights up at the mention of Carp. "Yeah... wild one, dat." He mimics nervously. "Say Rigel. Ya should ask that kid 'bout the thing he found last. Might be it could help ya, if'n ya'll get in the mood fer a bit of nightly "exploration"."He makes a far too animated wink in both Rigel and Ronk's direction. Then with a far too self-satisfied half-smile on his face, he turns back to Toblen, "I'd like to pay up fer three nights, if'n it's alright wit' ya, sir? Fix'n to be in town fer spell or two."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"If you don't mind," Vanzaren looks to the party, "I'd prefer to spend the night here." He stands and pulls some coin out of his pouch to pay for the night.
Ronk waves at the barkeep and his companions and quickly follows Rigel out. "We should probably find Garet, too. He might be okay for a room at the inn, but... Probably not the goblins."
The barkeep collects the coins and hands Marcon and Vanzaren both small iron keys to rooms upstairs. "Thank you for your business. I'll be opening the door early tomorrow so's Mister Hallwinter can meet privately with the townmaster. Harbin Wester is an irritable old coot, so I hope yer night's rest will replenish yer patience as well...you'll need it."
After Rigel exits through the door of the Stonehill Inn, he sees little activity along the main crossroads of the town, but hears a bit of a ruckus sounding up the lane to his left. If he turns to look in that direction, he sees Garet leaning against a building with the two goblins perched on his shoulders. Further ahead, he sees several human males roughhousing about in the middle road, hollering obscenities, laughing loudly and throwing rocks and empty bottles at nearby structures.
The hoods fall silent as they all peer down the darkened town street to see who has dared to question their actions. They can only see the silhouette of Garet who is standing in the shadows of the corner of a building. "Oops, was that your dog? Or you just a dog lover? Well, either way, I'm sorry...that I didn't kick him harder!" The group erupts in laughter, slapping their thighs and holding their stomachs. "You ought to come on over here and teach me a lesson!" The group near chokes with laughter.
Meanwhile Spit and Stopit scamper quietly back towards the Stonehill Inn where they see Rigel as he is stepping out. "Ribbit! Ribbit!" says Spit apparently trying to mimic the sound of a frog in an effort to covertly catch the ranger's notice. If Rigel sees them, the pair springs to attention with eyes wide, arms extended and fingers pointing furiously up the lane towards Garet.
Ronk looks at the goblins and points back to the inn."Tell the others too." The bugbear draws his sword and trots after Rigel, doing his best to stick to the shadows.
While Rigel and Ronk dart nimbly through the shadowy street, Stopit cautiously approaches the front door of the Stonehill Inn. Looking inside he sees Vanzaren and Marcon chatting casually with one another as the slowly move towards the staircase leading to the lodging rooms above. "Psst! Psssssst!" he hisses trying to get their attention. Failing to do so, he picks up a pebble and tosses it into the room. The rock strikes a flower vase sitting atop a small table which promptly shatters spilling flowers and water all over the floor. Puzzled stares follow the broken vase to the doorway where the pair sees the goblin motioning urgently for them to come outside.
Further up the road, Garet steps out of the shadows and into the open, the full measure of his eight feet in height bathed in the dim light spilling out of the windows of the Sleeping Giant. The smiles on the faces of the Redbrands melt away as they observe the angry firbolg affixing his shield as he moves in their direction. "Whoa, now...yer a big fella arent'cha? S'aright, we like a challenge, don't we boys?"
The others don't answer, instead gliding their shortswords out of their scabbards.
Vanzaren sighs, "What I'm trying to say Marcon, is that these Redbrands are either going to come after me or Rigel. If I'm the circus master they might come after me because I run the show, they wouldn't be interested in the likes of you because you would all be taking your orders from me. No offense of course," he nods to Rigel, "but work in the circus for long enough and the groups that run cities are always interested in the person who runs the operation, not the person who control the funds. And I'm the only person here who's spent enough time in the circus to be able to play the role of a circus master. Never thought that I would leave the circus only to start my own days later."
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Ronk blinks slowly at Vanzaren, taking a moment to mull over the wizard's words. He shrugs. "There haven't been any pitchforks yet. You can never know a real answer if the question is never asked." The bugbears frowns and scratches his chin, looking confused. "Or did my master mean that the question doesn't have to be asked for the answer to be known..."
Marcon huffs, and in a slightly more irritated voice now says, "Let me both re-ITerate and clarify for you, see'n as those sharp ears of yours are apparently not so good at catching new-juan-censes. What I said -- In no certain terms mind'ja -- is that plan don't make me feel any better. Regardless of whose bein' targeted, or why, or where. " He finished rising on that final point as he adds, "Now, Mr. Rigel here wisely said we can sleep on it. And if'n folk in the morn'n still wanna do it then... then fine, I guess." Marcon then looks over to the bugbear, start to say something, only for no words to leave his mouth prior to making a funny face and leaving the table, shaking his head as he began in earnest seeking out the tavern owner.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Sildar listens as the group deliberates over their next course of action. Finding a break in the conversation, he interjects: "This is my first night in Phandalin, so I'm afraid I don't know much more about the locals than all of you. The names 'Glasstaff' and 'Black Spider' are foreign to me, but they sound rather ominous. I'm afraid I need a little more rest before I will be of much use, especially if you mean to adjudicate the Redbrands by force. I must retire for the evening, but the townmaster will be here in the morning to discuss the state of affairs in Phandalin at the eighth hour of the morrow. In the meantime, may you all enjoy some relative safety."
The weary gentlemen tips his brow to the group and takes his leave of them, ascending a narrow staircase in the corner of the tavern to the balcony above and then through one of six wooden doors into the modest accommodations of the Stonehill Inn. Meanwhile, Garet and his goblin "passengers" wander eastward along the earthen lane that divides the small settlement between the north and south. After passing only a few buildings, he sees several drunken hooligans spilling out of a small wood-sided establishment into the street. None of the drunks notice him, but Garet can pick out the word "Glasstaff" several times amid their slurred whoops and shouts.
Back inside the Stonehill Inn, the young barkeep wanders over to the table where the party is gathered. Speaking in a calm and mannerly voice: "Last call, I'm afraid. For drinks and rooms. I'm afraid I don't enough room left for...everyone..." he stumbles over his words as he casts an unintentional glance at Ronk, "...but the Alderleaf farm has a hayloft that they make available to any who needs a roof for the night. Just be careful to avoid the Sleeping Giant across the road...this time o' day the Redbrands are sure deep in their cups and itchin' for a fight."
Ronk gives a small wave when when the barkeep looks at him. He seems unperturbed, but his shoulders sag slightly when they're told about the sleeping arrangements. "A hayloft is better than the woods, at least. Might need someone to come along to help ask, though..."
Rigel tips a nod at the bar keep "Thanks."
Rising he puts a hand on Ronks shoulder.
"Don't worry my fuzzy friend I'll vouch for ya. Let's go collect Garet and find this loft. Bartender! Where might we find this quality establishment of which you speak?"
**This Space for Rent**
Garet will try to remember as many details about hooligans before he moves back
7 Perception (if possible he will ask goblins to help him)
BARKEEP TO RIGEL: "The Alderleaf Farm is in the far southeast corner of town. Go one block south of here and you'll see a big building with the head of a lion painted in blue on the sign out front - that's the Coster. Hang a left and go until you run out of road. You'll probably find Ms. Alderleaf's boy Carp before you find her...wild imagination, that one."
Outside, Garet notices that all of the drunken men have some sort of red sash tied around their waist or draped around their neck like a scarf. Then his eye catches a small dog trotting up the lane towards him. As it passes by the group of drunks, one of them kicks the pup hard it its ribs and the four men have a hearty laugh about it. The dog yelps in pain and quickly limps off to the north.
Marcon's eyes lights up at the mention of Carp. "Yeah... wild one, dat." He mimics nervously. "Say Rigel. Ya should ask that kid 'bout the thing he found last. Might be it could help ya, if'n ya'll get in the mood fer a bit of nightly "exploration"." He makes a far too animated wink in both Rigel and Ronk's direction. Then with a far too self-satisfied half-smile on his face, he turns back to Toblen, "I'd like to pay up fer three nights, if'n it's alright wit' ya, sir? Fix'n to be in town fer spell or two."
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"If you don't mind," Vanzaren looks to the party, "I'd prefer to spend the night here." He stands and pulls some coin out of his pouch to pay for the night.
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Rigel thanks the man and places a silver piece on the table before turning and heading out the door.
**This Space for Rent**
Ronk waves at the barkeep and his companions and quickly follows Rigel out. "We should probably find Garet, too. He might be okay for a room at the inn, but... Probably not the goblins."
The barkeep collects the coins and hands Marcon and Vanzaren both small iron keys to rooms upstairs. "Thank you for your business. I'll be opening the door early tomorrow so's Mister Hallwinter can meet privately with the townmaster. Harbin Wester is an irritable old coot, so I hope yer night's rest will replenish yer patience as well...you'll need it."
After Rigel exits through the door of the Stonehill Inn, he sees little activity along the main crossroads of the town, but hears a bit of a ruckus sounding up the lane to his left. If he turns to look in that direction, he sees Garet leaning against a building with the two goblins perched on his shoulders. Further ahead, he sees several human males roughhousing about in the middle road, hollering obscenities, laughing loudly and throwing rocks and empty bottles at nearby structures.
Garet quickly puts goblins behind him takes and shouts to the bandits
"M...mister! Why d..did you do t.that?!"
The hoods fall silent as they all peer down the darkened town street to see who has dared to question their actions. They can only see the silhouette of Garet who is standing in the shadows of the corner of a building. "Oops, was that your dog? Or you just a dog lover? Well, either way, I'm sorry...that I didn't kick him harder!" The group erupts in laughter, slapping their thighs and holding their stomachs. "You ought to come on over here and teach me a lesson!" The group near chokes with laughter.
Meanwhile Spit and Stopit scamper quietly back towards the Stonehill Inn where they see Rigel as he is stepping out. "Ribbit! Ribbit!" says Spit apparently trying to mimic the sound of a frog in an effort to covertly catch the ranger's notice. If Rigel sees them, the pair springs to attention with eyes wide, arms extended and fingers pointing furiously up the lane towards Garet.
Rigel motions to Ronk to follow him. He encourages him on by saying,
"Garet's down this way, and it seems there may be some trouble. "
Rigel quickens his pace to a fast walk. He.prepares himself to draw weapons and sprint to Garet's aid.
**This Space for Rent**
Garet stands tall, fixes his shield on arm and takes few steps in direction of the gang
'N..nature should not be treated like that! This small creature was not a threat to you'
Ronk looks at the goblins and points back to the inn. "Tell the others too." The bugbear draws his sword and trots after Rigel, doing his best to stick to the shadows.
Stealth: 17
While Rigel and Ronk dart nimbly through the shadowy street, Stopit cautiously approaches the front door of the Stonehill Inn. Looking inside he sees Vanzaren and Marcon chatting casually with one another as the slowly move towards the staircase leading to the lodging rooms above. "Psst! Psssssst!" he hisses trying to get their attention. Failing to do so, he picks up a pebble and tosses it into the room. The rock strikes a flower vase sitting atop a small table which promptly shatters spilling flowers and water all over the floor. Puzzled stares follow the broken vase to the doorway where the pair sees the goblin motioning urgently for them to come outside.
Further up the road, Garet steps out of the shadows and into the open, the full measure of his eight feet in height bathed in the dim light spilling out of the windows of the Sleeping Giant. The smiles on the faces of the Redbrands melt away as they observe the angry firbolg affixing his shield as he moves in their direction. "Whoa, now...yer a big fella arent'cha? S'aright, we like a challenge, don't we boys?"
The others don't answer, instead gliding their shortswords out of their scabbards.
ROLLING INITIATIVE:
20 - RONK
5 - RIGEL
16 - GARET
8 - LOUD MOUTH
5 - EYE PATCH
5 - GREEN TEETH
22 - PEG LEG
INITIATIVE ORDER:
Shortsword: 22 vs. AC 18, dealing 7 piercing damage on a hit.Shortsword: 7 vs. AC 18, dealing 4 piercing damage on a hit.(OOC: SURPRISE ROUND - Ronk attacks first with advantage. Then the initiative order will begin with Peg Leg.)