You're trying to imagine what it would take for a human or an elf to mate with a dragonfly or a butterfly and you just can't make sense of it logistically. Not even gnomes are that small! Flutter wouldn't lie about what he saw, obviously, but...
Aerin, you feel something tickle at your nose. You almost sneeze, but scrunching your face up you manage to hold it back. As you shake the sneeze away you think you hear a faint giggle from nearby.
"Well that's more like it, I say! 'Bout time someone paid roper respects." Pop exclaims. The droning sound descends down into the temple. Suddenly a tiny person with dragonfly wings beating furiously appears hovering amongst the offerings. "No need to address these two." He says with a glance upward. "Ancient they are, but busy too. Warring for centuries if a day. Millennia perhaps. How it always is with nature, innit? Nothing and no one gets along. But balanced." Pop shakes his head.
De'ran:
You start to smell the unmistakable scent of skunk. You're not sure, but it seems to be coming from Thorin.
Thorin:
You start to smell the unmistakable scent of skunk. You're not sure, but it seems to be coming from De'ran.
Sparks:
Flutter spots the butterfly-winged lady fly over between De'ran and Thorin and sprinkle sparkling dust in the air between them.
De'ran is not bothered with the smell so he just looks to Thorin. "The smells of nature are never offensive. What comes from nature always agrees with me and will return to nature." He crouches down and grabs some dirt and rubs it under his nose. "Try that. Should help."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - Jalt Rhogar - Dragonborn Cleric (9)
Sparks, enjoying the antics of the fey creatures chuckles a bit as it becomes clear what the one is doing. He then says... "The legendary city is what we're here for." in De'ren's voice. "Daoine Gloine" In de'ren's voice. "where..." thorin's voice. "Machine of Lum the Mad..." In a sage from Baldur Gate's voice. "Where to now?" In thorin's voice.
Harbek is left scratching his chin some more. “This is sort of a strange place for me. I hope you’ll understand if I don’t recognize your temple, but I’m happy to make a simple offering.”
Harbek sets his pack down and kneels to dig through for a moment before pulling out one of his wrapped rations. Unwrapping it, he pulls out some of the bread and cheese, and breaking off several tiny portions, lays it out before the temple.
"Pop! Pop! My name is Pop!" The creature says, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "But I told you that already didn't I? What should I expect from rogues like you? But, Daoine Gloine you say? Not the Monastery?" Pop looks at Sparks quizzically. "Ain't nobody asked about that place in... oh... hundreds of years at least." Pop squints his face, "But I still don't know where it is so no sense in asking."
((I'm in meetings virtually all day and won't be able to post much more today, if at all.))
Thorin looks at the creature and says: " Please forgive us Pop for not remembering your name. This strange land has thrown us for a bit of a loop. What can you tell us about the Monastery you speak of?"
Sparks changes tact... "Pop!" In the Sprite's own voice. "there's a monastery..." Aerin's voice "hidden around here somewhere." Aerin's voice "Where..." Thorin's voice.
"Now back to the Monastery, not Daoin Gloine? You lot confuse me, you do." Pop says, still looking exasperated. "I've never been. Never will be neither. I stay here and tend the Eternal Battle!" glancing up at the straining creatures, "The Monastery is a few more days up the mountain, Igather," Pop frowns, "but I don't know why you're looking to go there. People don't go to the Monastery, they flee to it. Monks they may call themselves, but they're all criminals and outlaws and fugitives, aren't they? At least the ones come by here have been."Pop cocks his head to the side. "Why you wanna go there anyway? You don't look like you're running."
Before you can answer, he looks at Harbek again, "Say, you seem to be growing! Are you a treant like this'un?"
Harbek, you look down to see tiny leaves poking out from your pockets and the folds in your clothes, even some sprouting from the hair in your beard!
Flutter:
The tressym sees the butterfly winged woman gingerly setting tiny seeds all over Harbek, in his clothes, his beard, his hair, on the tops of his shoes, everywhere. Then she starts sprinkling sparkling dust over the seeds, each sprouting and growing a tiny leaf as she does.
(Does sparks recognize them when Flutter describes them to him?)
(Sparks, give me a nature check)
Nature: 23
Sparks tries to describe what flutter is telling him...
"magic..." Harbek's voice.
"fey..." Estival, fairy dragon's voice.
"creature..." Driad's voice.
He holds up two fingers to indicate two of them.
Sparks:
You're trying to imagine what it would take for a human or an elf to mate with a dragonfly or a butterfly and you just can't make sense of it logistically. Not even gnomes are that small! Flutter wouldn't lie about what he saw, obviously, but...
Garick bows deeply to the two titans. My apologies Elemental Elders, I hope you will forgive me.
CON save: 18
Aerin, you feel something tickle at your nose. You almost sneeze, but scrunching your face up you manage to hold it back. As you shake the sneeze away you think you hear a faint giggle from nearby.
"Well that's more like it, I say! 'Bout time someone paid roper respects." Pop exclaims. The droning sound descends down into the temple. Suddenly a tiny person with dragonfly wings beating furiously appears hovering amongst the offerings. "No need to address these two." He says with a glance upward. "Ancient they are, but busy too. Warring for centuries if a day. Millennia perhaps. How it always is with nature, innit? Nothing and no one gets along. But balanced." Pop shakes his head.
De'ran:
You start to smell the unmistakable scent of skunk. You're not sure, but it seems to be coming from Thorin.
Thorin:
You start to smell the unmistakable scent of skunk. You're not sure, but it seems to be coming from De'ran.
Sparks:
Flutter spots the butterfly-winged lady fly over between De'ran and Thorin and sprinkle sparkling dust in the air between them.
Thorin sniffs a little, looks at De'ran and says: " Dang it De'ran I told you not to eat those mushrooms you found! They didn't agree with you."
De'ran is not bothered with the smell so he just looks to Thorin. "The smells of nature are never offensive. What comes from nature always agrees with me and will return to nature." He crouches down and grabs some dirt and rubs it under his nose. "Try that. Should help."
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - Jalt Rhogar - Dragonborn Cleric (9)
"Ive heard it both ways."
After stifling the sneeze, Aerin looks at the creature and says "We're on a journey, would you be able to help us? Or perhaps we can help you?"
Sparks, enjoying the antics of the fey creatures chuckles a bit as it becomes clear what the one is doing. He then says...
"The legendary city is what we're here for." in De'ren's voice.
"Daoine Gloine" In de'ren's voice.
"where..." thorin's voice.
"Machine of Lum the Mad..." In a sage from Baldur Gate's voice.
"Where to now?" In thorin's voice.
Unless anyone objects? Harbek
Harbek is left scratching his chin some more. “This is sort of a strange place for me. I hope you’ll understand if I don’t recognize your temple, but I’m happy to make a simple offering.”
Harbek sets his pack down and kneels to dig through for a moment before pulling out one of his wrapped rations. Unwrapping it, he pulls out some of the bread and cheese, and breaking off several tiny portions, lays it out before the temple.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Seeing what Harbek does, Garick scrambles to do the same. Turning the flying creature Garick bows again. May I ask what your name is?
"Pop! Pop! My name is Pop!" The creature says, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "But I told you that already didn't I? What should I expect from rogues like you? But, Daoine Gloine you say? Not the Monastery?" Pop looks at Sparks quizzically. "Ain't nobody asked about that place in... oh... hundreds of years at least." Pop squints his face, "But I still don't know where it is so no sense in asking."
((I'm in meetings virtually all day and won't be able to post much more today, if at all.))
Thorin looks at the creature and says: " Please forgive us Pop for not remembering your name. This strange land has thrown us for a bit of a loop. What can you tell us about the Monastery you speak of?"
Sparks changes tact...
"Pop!" In the Sprite's own voice.
"there's a monastery..." Aerin's voice
"hidden around here somewhere." Aerin's voice
"Where..." Thorin's voice.
"Now back to the Monastery, not Daoin Gloine? You lot confuse me, you do." Pop says, still looking exasperated. "I've never been. Never will be neither. I stay here and tend the Eternal Battle!" glancing up at the straining creatures, "The Monastery is a few more days up the mountain, I gather," Pop frowns, "but I don't know why you're looking to go there. People don't go to the Monastery, they flee to it. Monks they may call themselves, but they're all criminals and outlaws and fugitives, aren't they? At least the ones come by here have been." Pop cocks his head to the side. "Why you wanna go there anyway? You don't look like you're running."
Before you can answer, he looks at Harbek again, "Say, you seem to be growing! Are you a treant like this'un?"
Harbek, you look down to see tiny leaves poking out from your pockets and the folds in your clothes, even some sprouting from the hair in your beard!
Flutter:
The tressym sees the butterfly winged woman gingerly setting tiny seeds all over Harbek, in his clothes, his beard, his hair, on the tops of his shoes, everywhere. Then she starts sprinkling sparkling dust over the seeds, each sprouting and growing a tiny leaf as she does.
Sparks chuckles as flutter tells him what the cause of the plants is. he thinks it very amusing and does not explain the cause.
Sparks
You hear the quietest of giggles in your ear, then a whisper, "You like my jokes. I like you." Another faint giggle, "Do you want to fly with me?"
Flutter sees the tiny creature flit up to the side of Sparks head, her face nearly brushing the feathers by your ear she's so close as she whispers.