Yam looks around at the group and says, "I guess it's not a big deal if it's not in the cards. The deck's stacked against these jokers, anyway. Besides, we're pretty well-suited to the task with a full house and a few aces up our collective sleeve. Let's get straight to it and flush this box. Sorry, Kendra..."
"Thank you little tree"he says accepting the Goodberries from Applebough. He places a fruit in the hand of each villager in the hope they will eat them once they regain consciousness.
Seeing the reluctance of others to scout ahead, Eks will move ahead of the group until he gets to the T the Councilman mentioned. There he will pause until the rest of the party comes into view, at which point he will head east at an easy pace. All the while keeping an eye out.
As you walk further into the rain ahead of the advancing procession, you see a man moving towards you. Running wouldn't quite be the correct term for his activity, although it appears to be what he is trying for. The end results is almost more of a limping hobble. As he gets closer an extremely elderly human comes into focus, clutching his left leg and nearly pulling it along with him as he moves at what is likely his fastest possible pace...just slightly faster than a slow walk for you.
The man is old enough to have reached that age where humans begin to look slightly like oversized goblins. Or perhaps there is a distant relation of goblin blood in the man's veins, diluted through the generations.
"Is everyone all right? I sent one of my digger boys to check on the procession and he came running back saying there was some kind of commotion? I came as quickly as I could to make sure no one was hurt too badly."
Hanging from a sash at the man's belt is a holy symbol to the goddess Pharasma, the Lady of Graves and the Mother of Souls.
"Is the processional behind you sir? They weren't waylaid were they?"
As the rest of the procession approaches the clouds seem to give their last, for the time being. The overcast sky stays everpresent, but at least the rain stops.
"Father Grimburrow! I'm glad Hephanas and his crowd didn't scare you off. We have my father here, thanks to these kind friends. Shall we proceed to the graveside?" Kendra steps forward and envelops the priest in a loving hug.
The elderly man nods, and smiles a grin missing a large number of teeth. He turns and begins to make his way back, the rest of you quickly catching up to him despite his "rapid" pace.
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
In reply to the Father's initial question, Eks replies with "There were no fatalities, but a few men are down. I stabilised them the best I could. Should be no more than a few cuts and a headache or two."
He will then follow the procession, hanging towards the rear and looking back often to ensure no irate townsfolk feel the need to start another scuffle.
Telantha continues helping to carry the casket. She is quiet, deciding this is a solem event and not wishing to ask questions of the others until this is completed.
The assault now past, the procession proceeds to the plot Kendra purchased for her father without any further complication. Two men in simple work clothes lower the coffin into the open grave. Standing at the head of the grave in waterlogged grasses, Father Grimburrow addresses the gathered.
"We gather here to commend the body of Petros Lorrimor to the ground, and to commend his soul to the Mother of Graves, Pharasma. Please kind keeper, guide his trueheart to its eternal reward." Holy water is scattered over the edges of the grave site, and after a moment of silent reflection Father Grimburrow nods to Kendra, inviting her to come forward and say a few words. Tears fill her eyes as she speaks, mostly to herself...
"My father was a kind and genteel man. Always seeking the truth and light of knowledge above all else. A learned man, he retired to this small town after years of serving the University of Lepidstadt both as an august professor and field researcher. It was during his many travels and research that he made a true cavalcade of friends, compatriots, and some times ne'er-do-well associates. I am gratified to have a small number of those in attendance today.
Even in retirement he never stopped seeking knowledge. It was rare the night that I did not see him writing furiously in his journals, or once again rereading a treatise on some ancient religion or otherworldly terror that used to grasp at the edges of our realm. I hope beyond hope his knowledge will help him in the journeys to come."
Coming to the close of her remarks, Kendra looks at the rest of the congregants with tear filled eyes. "If anyone else would like to share a story or remembrance of my father, you are more than welcome."
The floor made open to anyone to speak, a few passing words of common courtesy are shared by Councilman Hearthmount, nothing truly personal but how the community has lost a great ally. The woman with the satchel of herbs introduces herself as Jominda Fallenbridge and explains how kindly Professor Lorrimor was, always willing to help her research new ways to brew tinctures and tonics, or source rarer herbs through his connections in far off lands. Zokar Elkarid has a morose but cheerful smile as he relates a story of a time when the Professor drank a farmhand half his age under the table at the tavern Elkarid owns. There was more to the professor than met the eye.
After a few moments, the rest of the gathered's eyes shift to you, wondering if there will be anything you want to share before the funeral service is brought to a close.
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Yam doesn't step forward or clear his throat. No introduction. Staring at a bare patch of ground about 10 feet ahead of him, he says, "If you are looking for a rich man, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for things that go bump in thenight." His eyes ever-so-quickly flit to Dragutin, then back down. Almost seeming ashamed for a brief moment. "What I do is messy. I don't spend much time around civilized folk. As such, it's easy to lose sight of the reason I do what I do. I had lost my way when I met The Professor. I had lost everyone and everything. My entire party. For some reason he saw something special in my horrific experience. In me, or so he claimed. It was kind of annoying at first, his incessant question-asking. But then I saw the intensity with which he attacked the unknown. His hunger for knowledge and understanding was astounding. The man could not be redirected or distracted once he set his mind to something. I've seen a lot of things that defy explanation, but that man's resolve and keen mind were near the top of that list of wonders. He reached out to me and connected. He convinced me to get back up and use the pain...the rage..the terror to my advantage..."
He trails off for a moment, seemingly lost in memories. Then Yam takes a deep breath and looks up at the assembled faces.
"Professor Petros Lorrimor was a giant among men. I stand here with you all because I was called. But the fact that I stand at all is entirely because of the greatness of this man. I can only hope that I had any kind of positive impact on his life...he was an enigma so there may be no telling. I don't know what kind of legacy I'll leave on this world but his lives on in me and I'll do my damnedest live in a way that worthy of it. People who live crazy lives like The Professor and me, we don't usually attract a lot of what he called friends, but the fact that all of you have shown up for this restores my faith a bit and honors him. So thank you. Thank you all."
And with that, he falls silent. You realize this might be the first time he's been silent while not "slinking about like shadow."
Telantha stands quietly, not wishing to speak of the things the deceased man had done for her. Those things were hers to keep, and to think on as she stood there and watched him being put to rest.
The diminutive figure of a short Kobold steps forward. Shifting from one foot to the other, it is clear he is uncomfortable. "I hated the Professor. At first. He just wouldn't let it go. Wouldn't leave me alone. But the more questions he asked, the less....painful my memories became"a smile almost breaks across his draconic face. " If it weren't for the Professor, I'd still be shifting caskets through the tunnels and wallowing in self pity. Thanks, then, is due to the man I guess. For not knowing when to stop, or perhaps the opposite."He bows his head and steps to the back of the company.
(OoC - Rolled with advantage in original post as asked, but can I keep my original. Must've upset the dice Lord's as even with advantage I rolled lower )
Dragutin does not speak up to offer a eulogy. While the professor had helped him in the past, nothing he said here was going to reach the dead man's ears. No words would make a corpse's heart beat. Funerals are for the living and I don't give a damn about most of you.
Catching Yam's glance, he sulks even further, thoughts growing erratic. Does the bird suspect me? Of course he does. Look at the rest of this gang, obviously I can't be normal either. Was that a threat? Should I strike first? Does he think I would not pierce the shadows, smell or hear him coming? How easily does bird-flesh rend, how quickly do bird bones -
"... fact that all of you have shown up for this restores my faith a bit and honors him. So thank you. Thank you all."
No, I am misreading. It is not a threat.
He exhales, feeling the tension in his shoulders uncoil and release. For once, there was no fight here. He was not among enemies. Yet. With that, he glances over his shoulder, casually checking to see if the rest of the mob was going to show up. There would be more. There always was.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Applebough's dirge acts as a closing hymn to the proceedings. After the song is complete, Father Grimburrow lowers his head and leads the group in a prayer to Pharasma. Those familiar with Pharasmic rights recognize the liturgy as being from the standard book of prayers, a request from the goddess to protect the body of the supplicant interred here and keep it from falling victim to necromantic magics that are an anathema to the virtues of Pharasma.
Afterwards the group begins to break up. Councilman Hearthmount approaches the group of you with a sad smile for those that spoke over the grave. "Brave and beautiful words lads. Professor Lorrimor was wise in asking you to be here." There is a small tear in the corner of his eye as he looks up at the Treefolk singer. "Well, I've some business to attend to, but I will see you all later this evening at the Lorrimor estate yes? As the chair of the council it falls to me to read the will and act as council if there is anything that must be adjudicated." Without another word he bids you all good evening for now with a nod of his head and turns and walks away more briskly than you would expect from a man of his corpulence. The other councilman, Muricar, falls in behind him rushing to keep up.
After the councilmen depart, Kendra walks up to the party, holding her injured arm at a careful angle. "Thank you for your kind words tonight. They ease my heartache slightly to hear others speak so kindly of my father. Please, come retire to my home until the reading of the will. Unless you have other needs to see to in the interim? You had the look of having just arrived in town when we met, have you already arranged lodgings for the night? I would of course offer my hospitality, but I am afraid the house is quaint...I could accomodate 2 or 3 if need be, but certainly not all of you. Tell you what, take this to the Outward Inn, and tell Sarianna that you are friends of the Professor. She should give you a good rate for a few rooms. Afterwards you can come back to the house and we can talk while we wait for Hearthmount to arrive for the reading."
Pulling at a pouch from her waist she glances inside to judge the amount of coin and nods, handing it over to the first hand that reaches to take it.
The money pouch contains 20 gold, which should be far more than enough to get a "good rate" on rooms for one night, even if you each want your own.
If anyone protests at the offer of money Kendra insists, asking you to see it as a paltry reward for coming to her aid when the ruffians attacked the procession.
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Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Making his way back to town, Eks walks deep in thought. Seeing the professor put to rest had caused more memories to surface than Eks was comfortable with. The feeling of dread from that night. The fact he had survived is what had brought him to the professors attention. Lorrimor had always asked how one Kobold had survived against 3 Ghouls. A question that to this day Eks could still not answer. With his mind elsewhere, Eks almost walks straight past the inn, if it weren't for the cheers and laughter from within, he may well have.
Dragutin snatches at the coinpurse. Then, almost sheepishly, he gently withdraws three coins from it before passing the pouch and the remaining 17 gold along. The coins sully quickly in his wet, muddy palm. He tucks them away, carefully. It was more money than he was comfortable with.
"Miss Kendra, I'm worried those thugs did not learn their lesson. They just tried to kill you, and now they have a wounded pride to fortify their ignorance.," Again, his tone is soft and respectful. "Do you desire an escort back to your home?"
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Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Telantha looks at the coins and shrugs, putting them away. "I will go to this inn, then meet you back at your home." She agrees. After getting directions to each she would head out.
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Yam looks around at the group and says, "I guess it's not a big deal if it's not in the cards. The deck's stacked against these jokers, anyway. Besides, we're pretty well-suited to the task with a full house and a few aces up our collective sleeve. Let's get straight to it and flush this box. Sorry, Kendra..."
Yam has never played cards before.
"Aaaaaaand lift."
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Eks
"Thank you little tree" he says accepting the Goodberries from Applebough. He places a fruit in the hand of each villager in the hope they will eat them once they regain consciousness.
Seeing the reluctance of others to scout ahead, Eks will move ahead of the group until he gets to the T the Councilman mentioned. There he will pause until the rest of the party comes into view, at which point he will head east at an easy pace. All the while keeping an eye out.
Perception 11
Eks:
As you walk further into the rain ahead of the advancing procession, you see a man moving towards you. Running wouldn't quite be the correct term for his activity, although it appears to be what he is trying for. The end results is almost more of a limping hobble. As he gets closer an extremely elderly human comes into focus, clutching his left leg and nearly pulling it along with him as he moves at what is likely his fastest possible pace...just slightly faster than a slow walk for you.
The man is old enough to have reached that age where humans begin to look slightly like oversized goblins. Or perhaps there is a distant relation of goblin blood in the man's veins, diluted through the generations.
"Is everyone all right? I sent one of my digger boys to check on the procession and he came running back saying there was some kind of commotion? I came as quickly as I could to make sure no one was hurt too badly."
Hanging from a sash at the man's belt is a holy symbol to the goddess Pharasma, the Lady of Graves and the Mother of Souls.
"Is the processional behind you sir? They weren't waylaid were they?"
As the rest of the procession approaches the clouds seem to give their last, for the time being. The overcast sky stays everpresent, but at least the rain stops.
"Father Grimburrow! I'm glad Hephanas and his crowd didn't scare you off. We have my father here, thanks to these kind friends. Shall we proceed to the graveside?" Kendra steps forward and envelops the priest in a loving hug.
The elderly man nods, and smiles a grin missing a large number of teeth. He turns and begins to make his way back, the rest of you quickly catching up to him despite his "rapid" pace.
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Eks
In reply to the Father's initial question, Eks replies with "There were no fatalities, but a few men are down. I stabilised them the best I could. Should be no more than a few cuts and a headache or two."
He will then follow the procession, hanging towards the rear and looking back often to ensure no irate townsfolk feel the need to start another scuffle.
Telantha continues helping to carry the casket. She is quiet, deciding this is a solem event and not wishing to ask questions of the others until this is completed.
The assault now past, the procession proceeds to the plot Kendra purchased for her father without any further complication. Two men in simple work clothes lower the coffin into the open grave. Standing at the head of the grave in waterlogged grasses, Father Grimburrow addresses the gathered.
"We gather here to commend the body of Petros Lorrimor to the ground, and to commend his soul to the Mother of Graves, Pharasma. Please kind keeper, guide his trueheart to its eternal reward." Holy water is scattered over the edges of the grave site, and after a moment of silent reflection Father Grimburrow nods to Kendra, inviting her to come forward and say a few words. Tears fill her eyes as she speaks, mostly to herself...
"My father was a kind and genteel man. Always seeking the truth and light of knowledge above all else. A learned man, he retired to this small town after years of serving the University of Lepidstadt both as an august professor and field researcher. It was during his many travels and research that he made a true cavalcade of friends, compatriots, and some times ne'er-do-well associates. I am gratified to have a small number of those in attendance today.
Even in retirement he never stopped seeking knowledge. It was rare the night that I did not see him writing furiously in his journals, or once again rereading a treatise on some ancient religion or otherworldly terror that used to grasp at the edges of our realm. I hope beyond hope his knowledge will help him in the journeys to come."
Coming to the close of her remarks, Kendra looks at the rest of the congregants with tear filled eyes. "If anyone else would like to share a story or remembrance of my father, you are more than welcome."
The floor made open to anyone to speak, a few passing words of common courtesy are shared by Councilman Hearthmount, nothing truly personal but how the community has lost a great ally. The woman with the satchel of herbs introduces herself as Jominda Fallenbridge and explains how kindly Professor Lorrimor was, always willing to help her research new ways to brew tinctures and tonics, or source rarer herbs through his connections in far off lands. Zokar Elkarid has a morose but cheerful smile as he relates a story of a time when the Professor drank a farmhand half his age under the table at the tavern Elkarid owns. There was more to the professor than met the eye.
After a few moments, the rest of the gathered's eyes shift to you, wondering if there will be anything you want to share before the funeral service is brought to a close.
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Yam doesn't step forward or clear his throat. No introduction. Staring at a bare patch of ground about 10 feet ahead of him, he says, "If you are looking for a rich man, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for things that go bump in the night." His eyes ever-so-quickly flit to Dragutin, then back down. Almost seeming ashamed for a brief moment. "What I do is messy. I don't spend much time around civilized folk. As such, it's easy to lose sight of the reason I do what I do. I had lost my way when I met The Professor. I had lost everyone and everything. My entire party. For some reason he saw something special in my horrific experience. In me, or so he claimed. It was kind of annoying at first, his incessant question-asking. But then I saw the intensity with which he attacked the unknown. His hunger for knowledge and understanding was astounding. The man could not be redirected or distracted once he set his mind to something. I've seen a lot of things that defy explanation, but that man's resolve and keen mind were near the top of that list of wonders. He reached out to me and connected. He convinced me to get back up and use the pain...the rage..the terror to my advantage..."
He trails off for a moment, seemingly lost in memories. Then Yam takes a deep breath and looks up at the assembled faces.
"Professor Petros Lorrimor was a giant among men. I stand here with you all because I was called. But the fact that I stand at all is entirely because of the greatness of this man. I can only hope that I had any kind of positive impact on his life...he was an enigma so there may be no telling. I don't know what kind of legacy I'll leave on this world but his lives on in me and I'll do my damnedest live in a way that worthy of it. People who live crazy lives like The Professor and me, we don't usually attract a lot of what he called friends, but the fact that all of you have shown up for this restores my faith a bit and honors him. So thank you. Thank you all."
And with that, he falls silent. You realize this might be the first time he's been silent while not "slinking about like shadow."
Persuasion: 17
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Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Telantha stands quietly, not wishing to speak of the things the deceased man had done for her. Those things were hers to keep, and to think on as she stood there and watched him being put to rest.
Eks
The diminutive figure of a short Kobold steps forward. Shifting from one foot to the other, it is clear he is uncomfortable. "I hated the Professor. At first. He just wouldn't let it go. Wouldn't leave me alone. But the more questions he asked, the less....painful my memories became" a smile almost breaks across his draconic face. " If it weren't for the Professor, I'd still be shifting caskets through the tunnels and wallowing in self pity. Thanks, then, is due to the man I guess. For not knowing when to stop, or perhaps the opposite." He bows his head and steps to the back of the company.
Persuasion 14
Persuasion 12
(OoC - Forgot to roll as instructed )
Bowser will stay quiet as well. He continues to observe everyone and was moved by their various speeches.
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Applebough steps forwards, singing a low, mournful dirge.
"A good man
Laid to rest
Many stories left untold
A broken twig
Lifted up
And shown again the world
A mystery
And friend as well
Gathering strangers close as kin
Tomorrow seems
A darker day
For a world without you in
A promise made
Amongst these few
Who gather here to grieve
Your story
I will faithful tell
To any who'll believe."
Producing a flute from his pack, he continues the melody softly fading to nothing as he returns to the crowd of gathered mourners.
Performance: 9
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
2nd roll for advantage (edited my post to add roll just before you responded), Persuasion: 14
So 17.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Advantage roll: 11
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
(OoC - Rolled with advantage in original post as asked, but can I keep my original. Must've upset the dice Lord's as even with advantage I rolled lower )
Dragutin does not speak up to offer a eulogy. While the professor had helped him in the past, nothing he said here was going to reach the dead man's ears. No words would make a corpse's heart beat. Funerals are for the living and I don't give a damn about most of you.
Catching Yam's glance, he sulks even further, thoughts growing erratic. Does the bird suspect me? Of course he does. Look at the rest of this gang, obviously I can't be normal either. Was that a threat? Should I strike first? Does he think I would not pierce the shadows, smell or hear him coming? How easily does bird-flesh rend, how quickly do bird bones -
"... fact that all of you have shown up for this restores my faith a bit and honors him. So thank you. Thank you all."
No, I am misreading. It is not a threat.
He exhales, feeling the tension in his shoulders uncoil and release. For once, there was no fight here. He was not among enemies. Yet. With that, he glances over his shoulder, casually checking to see if the rest of the mob was going to show up. There would be more. There always was.
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Applebough's dirge acts as a closing hymn to the proceedings. After the song is complete, Father Grimburrow lowers his head and leads the group in a prayer to Pharasma. Those familiar with Pharasmic rights recognize the liturgy as being from the standard book of prayers, a request from the goddess to protect the body of the supplicant interred here and keep it from falling victim to necromantic magics that are an anathema to the virtues of Pharasma.
Afterwards the group begins to break up. Councilman Hearthmount approaches the group of you with a sad smile for those that spoke over the grave. "Brave and beautiful words lads. Professor Lorrimor was wise in asking you to be here." There is a small tear in the corner of his eye as he looks up at the Treefolk singer. "Well, I've some business to attend to, but I will see you all later this evening at the Lorrimor estate yes? As the chair of the council it falls to me to read the will and act as council if there is anything that must be adjudicated." Without another word he bids you all good evening for now with a nod of his head and turns and walks away more briskly than you would expect from a man of his corpulence. The other councilman, Muricar, falls in behind him rushing to keep up.
After the councilmen depart, Kendra walks up to the party, holding her injured arm at a careful angle. "Thank you for your kind words tonight. They ease my heartache slightly to hear others speak so kindly of my father. Please, come retire to my home until the reading of the will. Unless you have other needs to see to in the interim? You had the look of having just arrived in town when we met, have you already arranged lodgings for the night? I would of course offer my hospitality, but I am afraid the house is quaint...I could accomodate 2 or 3 if need be, but certainly not all of you. Tell you what, take this to the Outward Inn, and tell Sarianna that you are friends of the Professor. She should give you a good rate for a few rooms. Afterwards you can come back to the house and we can talk while we wait for Hearthmount to arrive for the reading."
Pulling at a pouch from her waist she glances inside to judge the amount of coin and nods, handing it over to the first hand that reaches to take it.
The money pouch contains 20 gold, which should be far more than enough to get a "good rate" on rooms for one night, even if you each want your own.
If anyone protests at the offer of money Kendra insists, asking you to see it as a paltry reward for coming to her aid when the ruffians attacked the procession.
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Eks
Making his way back to town, Eks walks deep in thought. Seeing the professor put to rest had caused more memories to surface than Eks was comfortable with. The feeling of dread from that night. The fact he had survived is what had brought him to the professors attention. Lorrimor had always asked how one Kobold had survived against 3 Ghouls. A question that to this day Eks could still not answer. With his mind elsewhere, Eks almost walks straight past the inn, if it weren't for the cheers and laughter from within, he may well have.
Dragutin snatches at the coinpurse. Then, almost sheepishly, he gently withdraws three coins from it before passing the pouch and the remaining 17 gold along. The coins sully quickly in his wet, muddy palm. He tucks them away, carefully. It was more money than he was comfortable with.
"Miss Kendra, I'm worried those thugs did not learn their lesson. They just tried to kill you, and now they have a wounded pride to fortify their ignorance.," Again, his tone is soft and respectful. "Do you desire an escort back to your home?"
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Bowser turns to Dragutin and shifts his attention to Kendra. "Yes, those ruffians could still be out there."
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Telantha looks at the coins and shrugs, putting them away. "I will go to this inn, then meet you back at your home." She agrees. After getting directions to each she would head out.