"Ms. Thornton, a pleasure to meet you! Chomsky Blabbersnitch at your humble service!  These are my fearless companions and friends and new acquaintances!"  The gnome gestures to the group behind him with one hand as he furiously shakes Haila's with the other.  "We seem to be finding ourselves as solvers of problems at the moment involving doors, but no matter, we will have this one open in a jiffy!"

The little gnome strides up to the door and politely raps on it.  "Good day sir!  We wish to talk to you regarding dragons, but this door is in the way!  Doors are very much inconvenient for talking through, wouldn't you agree?  Windows, perhaps, but only if they are open!  On the topic of dragons, such a fascinating subject, don't you think?  I myself am most certainly not a dragon, because I sound like a gnome, and gnomes sound very gnome-like!  If I were a dragon, I would sound something like this!"  Chom reaches into a small pouch by his waist, and produces a small piece of a sheep's fleece.  Looking like he is about to blow his nose into it, he raises it to his mouth and exhales through it, producing his best (and loudest) approximation of a dragon's roar.  He then waits with his head cocked towards the door to see if Mr. Wester agrees with his assessment.

Cast Minor Illusion

"NO! I WON'T OPEN THE DOOR! What do you want?!"

Haila covers her ears and winces at the sound. "It's no use. None of us have been able to get him to open it. Even has his food brought to him. He's terrified and there's nothing to be done for it."

John stands aside so the group who have immediate business with townmaster can tend to it.  That was the well mannered thing to do.   "You should be careful!" He scolded as Ketch proceeded to pound on the tiny door.  Very rude.    "That's no Orc door for you to be beating on!" He said, almost exactly how Ander Shumpard would to him, as a boy, without thinking. 

If Ketch paid him any mind or not, John didn't notice.  Halia introduced herself and the little Gnome, who'd introduced himself as Chomsky Blabbersnitch, did an impressive dragon call.  One that drew a giddy clap from John.   

 "It's no use. None of us have been able to get him to open it. Even has his food brought to him. He's terrified and there's nothing to be done for it."  

It wasn't often that regular sized folks appreciated a Half-Orc running around kicking in doors, but nothing about his meeting of the small group had been normal.  "Shall we kick it in?" He directed at Chomsky.  "Shouldn't be hard.  It's no Orc door."  He noted again stepping forward to shove in next to Ketch at the door.

"Yes,"  Ketch says, with a smile. "You should!  As Gruumsh always says, a door closed to you is asking to be kicked in!"

"Oh no, no, no, no!"  Chom looks horrified at the thought of using brute force to open (or break) the door.  "It is a very nice door you have here Mr. Wester, I'd hate for anything orc-related to happen to it!  We are here because we have persuaded the lovely Ms. Gwynn to return to town in the near future, she gave us a note with such exquisite handwriting, much better than my scratchings with a quill!  Perhaps if I slide the note under the door, you can slide our well-deserved reward under the door in the other direction, and then we can be off to help some more people and make more new friends!"

Persuasion: 12

At this, the gnome drops to his knees, produces the note from a breast pocket of his jacket, and pushes it out of sight towards the Townmaster.  He jumps to his feet, watching the bottom of the door expectantly.

"NO! NO!"

The yelling stops as the note is passed under the door. There is a long silence. Then, "This is Adabra's hand. She says you helped her."

There is a faint sound of a chest closing. One by one, 25 gold pieces slide under the door. 

"Pass me the notice from the board, for the records. There are still two there, correct?"

John raises his hands apologetically, and steps back away from the door.  A chorus of no's, doing their best to drown out a much deeper, solitary, yes. 

Reaching in to his pocket John digs out the flyers.  Holding one in each hand, up towards the door, he nods and answers the Townsman.  "That's right.  Two!"

"Good. Don't need to make more. So many to tell. Hope so much for them. Now go! Before the dragon sees."

"I apologize for his...yeah." Haila shakes her head. "The rest of us are open for business. And will actually look at you. Imagine that."

Xel-Thoth has been in a world of his own since the encounter with the Manticore. He was ashamed how he froze in the midst of danger. Thankfully his companions were made of braver stuff. 

He silently admired Chomsky since it would seem nothing fazes the gnome. 

But his adventure in this world has just begun and one small set-back will not stop him him from moving forward towards his dreams. 

Ketch grimaces as he sees the gold that was slipped out of the door passed out to seemingly everyone but him.  He hadn’t earned any of it, not having been with them when they did, but Ketch would have liked some none the less.  And it’s not like it was uncommon for the smaller folk to give him gold just to make him happy...

And speaking of happy, he had a distinct lack of it from not even getting to knock the door in. If he didn’t get some chance to pound the word of Gruumsh into someone or something soon, he decided, he will just need to invent one!

”More jobs to do,” Ketch said loudly grabbing at one of the papers in the other Half IRC’s hand. “C’mon,” he demanded, keeping the ‘before I start preaching to you all’ part under his breath.

Erevan

"Let's retire to the inn to discuss our future jobs" he says motioning to the north.

Quote from Kaemgen >>

"Yes,"  Ketch says, with a smile. "You should!  As Gruumsh always says, a door closed to you is asking to be kicked in!"

 'That's not how doors work.' Tyrgram muttered underneath his breath. The entire time the scene was unfolding before him, he had been silent. Part of it was because he knew he wouldn't get a word in regardless, what with the Gnome running his mouth like he breathed through his ears. On the other hand, they seemed to have picked up two rather large, hulking and brutish looking additions to the group and he was more keen on knowing just exactly what they would have to deal with.

Well, at least one of them seemed to have a modicum of common sense, bordering one the edge of meekness even. The other... stereotypes exist for a reason, Tyrgram reasoned. He doubted the "glory" of this Gruumsh one could compare to the beauty of his lady but to each his own. 

'What are the other two requests again?' Tyrgram asked. 'Something about Dwarves and...?'

"Gnomes!"  Chom practically yells the word in delight.  "Magical inventions, tinkering with all sorts of contraptions, what fun it will be!  Aren't you looking forwards to meeting even more gnomes, Horace?"  The hawk familiar perched on the gnome's shoulder finds something fascinating to stare at in the distance, clearly not wanting to even entertain the thought.

"No!" John grunted as Ketch lunged for one of the flyers in his hands.  Shifting his stance and grabbing both papers in his left hand, he extended them away and used his right forearm to stave off the other half orc.  "We should choose together!"  He pleaded at the "rude" Ketch.  What a site it mustve been to see such hulking figures wrestle and grapple like children.  It might have continued, but he heard one of the men ask about the information on the flyers.  At which point John immediately gave up both flyers to Ketch.

"Go on.  He's asking you a question!"  He juts his chin at Ketch in a jerky motion, urging him to relay the information, and putting on his most casual face while crossing his arms over his chest.

Ketch growls in frustration and annoyance.  "I came to the job board to get job!  Then I am swarmed by little ones with the chitter and the chatter.  And you?!?  The biggest of them all, but the littlest too!  And I still have no job!"  Ketch stamps a foot, balls his hand into a fist and begins to raise it... until he notices the two crumpled notices in the hand."

"Go on.  He's asking you a question!" he hears the maddeningly gentle orc shout at him. (But he does seem to have some fire in there somewhere, Ketch notices.)

Ketch growls again, this time frustrated at himself for having lost the thread of the conversation.  Someone had asked him a question?  About what?  Still staring at his hand, Ketch's mind snatched out at whatever threads it could remember, not wanting the sniveling nice guy to show him up.  "Gnomes," he repeated softly to himself, a bit unsure but quickly deciding that that was right.  "Gnomes!" he said with much more assurance.  "This one right here says gnomes," he says pointing first at the papers in his fist and then absently toward the little crowd around them.  "And as Gruumsh says: Gnomes it is!"

With that, Ketch shoved the posting back into the John's chest and let go of them, stalking off in whatever direction he was already facing.  They would either catch up and eventually he'd follow them toward the gnomes, of they wouldn't and he'd walk into the sunset with his pride intact... And surely would find something to preach about Gruumsh to.

Erevan

With his suggestion of retiring to the inn left by the way side, he listens in amusement to the half orcs bickering. With the final words grunted, it seems that the group had......decided. Gnomes. He thinks to himself - Let's hope some of them are a little....less talkative. A smile crosses his face at the thought.

Tyrgram watched John and Ketch go at it. They reminded him of bickering, little children. He would have smiled at the notion of it, were it not that these "little children" were two hulking, brutish half-orcs who both looked fully capable of ripping each others' arms off. 

'Right...' He dragged the word out and watch one of the two half-orcs stomp off. 'Gnomes it is then, I guess. Surely they cannot all be...' He glanced at Chom. 'In immediate danger.' Tyrgram decided to end his sentence on. 

"If you're going to Gnomengarde, it's that way." Haila points in a southwesternly direction. "Have fun. And hope to see ya back."

"Much obliged, Madam, much obliged!  Not a moment to lose!  Come on everybody, our new friend knows the way!"  Chom attempts to catch up to Ketch, and fails, as he spends more time gesticulating excitedly to the others than catching up with the comparatively long-legged half-orc.