"I don't know about the rest of you, but I need some time with an ale, then a good long sleep." Brocc says, feeling the first signs of exhaustion in his limbs. The adrenaline wearing off now that battle was over. He hefts the bag of gold. "Tomorrow will be soon enough to see about upgrading my gear..."
"We'll need a jeweler to sell some of our loot and split the gold, but none if these shops offer that. Save it for tomorrow, because tonight I rest!" Hatch said, less enthused by the promise of ale than he was of a hot meal and a long sleep.
Tom smiles at Girior “the Fat Frog Inn… sounds perfect, ma’am!” Tom is relieved to be alive and feels closer to his comrades, and is excited and also nervous of what might be to come.
He is surprised to receive another 100gp from the city council. “This is a most generous gesture. I thank you.”And Tom bows. He grew up in a privileged family and so wealth is not new to him… 100gp is peanuts where he’s from…. But this is the reason as well why he ran away from his home village. He wants to escape that life. Wealth is not his driving force.
“Please keep us posted on what you find could've caused this. I feel I need to see this through and I am sure my comrades agree.”
Tom then says “Ah yes, let’s go have a drink lads! We shall deal with the financial nonsense… er, I mean we shall divide the stuff fairly. Until then, cheers gents!”
Tom would consume enough ale to get drunk on this night. Happy to roll for the CON save lol!
Hatch would stick to food and water once he reached the inn. Alcohol just wasn't of interest to him, but he would engage in any singing, dancing, telling of tales, and other celebratory activities gladly enough.
You turn down the alley towards where Girior indicated your lodgings would be.
Beggar's Alley is a narrow, potholed dirt track, hardly wide enough to drive a horse and cart down. Dark and decrepit stone and wood houses line the alley, all of them long in need of repair. There is rubbish everywhere, and the putrid stench of open sewers fills the air. Beggars in ragged clothing stand hunched in doorways, their arms outstretched like lost souls pleading. A rainwater barrel sits outside a home with a reinforced wooden door.
Eager to get rest you pass through and emerge into the market square, the vendors have closed up shop for the day as dusk settles but looking at the signs you see stalls selling weapons, armor, potions, lotions, herbs, spices, grain, livestock, semi-precious stones, jewellery, silk, furs, fine textiles and exotic foodstuffs.
A large stone fountain in the shape of a dragon stands in the centre of the square and a rowdy inn dominates the southern edge, a rather whimsical sign identifies it as ' The Fat Frog'.
Heading inside, the common room is crowded with tired merchants and less savoury types but the barman waves you over, " You;d be Giriors lot then? Heres your keys, six rooms upstairs on the house. I've put a board of cheese, meats and bread in each room and three jugs of ale, wine and water."
"Looks like we will be able to stock up on weapons... Brocc, I am positive you'll be able to find something to upgrade around here by the looks of it. And I think I saw some nice arrows... we best to do some shopping tomorrow morning gents!"
Tom greets the barman once they enter "Why thank you kind sir! That will be most fantastic."
Then to the others: "I'd be happy to stay up and be good company should any of ye' desire a good chat. I'm going to have a few pints down here before I turn in."
Rufus smiles tiredly at Tom and the innkeeper. He graciously accepts a key. He says to his comrades, "I will be taking advantage of the bed. Many thanks kind sir!"
Brocc pauses for a single ale in the common area, then heads up to his bed. He simply nods at the comments about finding weapons in the shops the next day, then is off to bed.
Hatch could definitely go for more axes in the morning, especially if he could find and afford anything magical, although that was a slim chance.
When they reached the Fat Frog they weren't exactly treated to a heroes welcome, but they were treated to just what the half-demon (I think that was this setting's term for tiefling) needed. He ate everything he could stomach, drank deep of water, washed himself up, and then went to bed.
(Hatch is an odd guy, he sleeps in his armor, weapons in hand, he never tosses and turns in his sleep, but he does suffer from nightmares that he sometimes wakes screaming from if you want to roll for that)
The night passed peacefully and the companions were able to get some rest, coming down in the morning the inn is quiet with only a few folks sitting at the tables.
Torinn approaches you and repeats his desire to travel to Port Blacksand, " Perhaps we will meet again.", his scaled form departed through the door of the inn and into the morning light.
Connar came downstairs looking rested but bleary eyed.
A young man indicates a table laid with black bread and fried onions and sausages, " Your breakfast, Sirs. As Arranged."
Looking about the common room there are two old men dressed in merchants garb, a chestnut skinned female gnome dressed in colourful silks and a male halfling with chestnut colored hair, light pale skin and a brown leather vest on his chest a small black hooded cloak and leather boots with sheathed daggers.
Hatch came down, mumbled some greetings, and went straight to eating breakfast. He wasn't much of a morning person. He did nod to the new person, Litty.
Thom would come down the stairs and do a few stretches. "Top of the mornin' lads! And lasses!"
He would bid a pleasant farewell to Torinn, and then join Connar for some sausages. He laughs at him when he mentions that we are heros "Bah! Heros we are not! Although it's nice to think so I suppose."Tom grins at Connar then sees Hatch come down, being his quiet self. Tom was sure glad the tiefling was on our side.
Then responds to Litty: "Pleased to meet you Litty. The name's Tom. Ay, we were able to luckily stifle the undeads plans, and you know, stop the dungeon from landing on the city. No big deal." Tom laughs and hopes that Connar does too.
Tom notices Litty standing behind Hatch. Obviously he doesn't see the pickpocket happen because of that roll... but nonetheless he can see the halfling just standing behind Hatch, and he thinks it's creepy. "Have you never seen a tiefling or something, friend? Are you looking at his tail? It's quite interesting, isn't it?" this would get Hatch's attention and ensure no other pickpockets occur I would think.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I need some time with an ale, then a good long sleep." Brocc says, feeling the first signs of exhaustion in his limbs. The adrenaline wearing off now that battle was over. He hefts the bag of gold. "Tomorrow will be soon enough to see about upgrading my gear..."
Rufus nods his head in agreement. He says, "Aye! To the inn for a pint and a bed!"
"We'll need a jeweler to sell some of our loot and split the gold, but none if these shops offer that. Save it for tomorrow, because tonight I rest!" Hatch said, less enthused by the promise of ale than he was of a hot meal and a long sleep.
Tom smiles at Girior “the Fat Frog Inn… sounds perfect, ma’am!” Tom is relieved to be alive and feels closer to his comrades, and is excited and also nervous of what might be to come.
He is surprised to receive another 100gp from the city council. “This is a most generous gesture. I thank you.” And Tom bows. He grew up in a privileged family and so wealth is not new to him… 100gp is peanuts where he’s from…. But this is the reason as well why he ran away from his home village. He wants to escape that life. Wealth is not his driving force.
“Please keep us posted on what you find could've caused this. I feel I need to see this through and I am sure my comrades agree.”
Tom then says “Ah yes, let’s go have a drink lads! We shall deal with the financial nonsense… er, I mean we shall divide the stuff fairly. Until then, cheers gents!”
Tom would consume enough ale to get drunk on this night. Happy to roll for the CON save lol!
Hatch would stick to food and water once he reached the inn. Alcohol just wasn't of interest to him, but he would engage in any singing, dancing, telling of tales, and other celebratory activities gladly enough.
You turn down the alley towards where Girior indicated your lodgings would be.
Beggar's Alley is a narrow, potholed dirt track, hardly wide enough to drive a horse and cart down. Dark and decrepit stone and wood houses line the alley, all of them long in need of repair. There is rubbish everywhere, and the putrid stench of open sewers fills the air. Beggars in ragged clothing stand hunched in doorways, their arms outstretched like lost souls pleading. A rainwater barrel sits outside a home with a reinforced wooden door.
Eager to get rest you pass through and emerge into the market square, the vendors have closed up shop for the day as dusk settles but looking at the signs you see stalls selling weapons, armor, potions, lotions, herbs, spices, grain, livestock, semi-precious stones, jewellery, silk, furs, fine textiles and exotic foodstuffs.
A large stone fountain in the shape of a dragon stands in the centre of the square and a rowdy inn dominates the southern edge, a rather whimsical sign identifies it as ' The Fat Frog'.
Heading inside, the common room is crowded with tired merchants and less savoury types but the barman waves you over, " You;d be Giriors lot then? Heres your keys, six rooms upstairs on the house. I've put a board of cheese, meats and bread in each room and three jugs of ale, wine and water."
"Looks like we will be able to stock up on weapons... Brocc, I am positive you'll be able to find something to upgrade around here by the looks of it. And I think I saw some nice arrows... we best to do some shopping tomorrow morning gents!"
Tom greets the barman once they enter "Why thank you kind sir! That will be most fantastic."
Then to the others: "I'd be happy to stay up and be good company should any of ye' desire a good chat. I'm going to have a few pints down here before I turn in."
Rufus smiles tiredly at Tom and the innkeeper. He graciously accepts a key. He says to his comrades, "I will be taking advantage of the bed. Many thanks kind sir!"
Brocc pauses for a single ale in the common area, then heads up to his bed. He simply nods at the comments about finding weapons in the shops the next day, then is off to bed.
Hatch could definitely go for more axes in the morning, especially if he could find and afford anything magical, although that was a slim chance.
When they reached the Fat Frog they weren't exactly treated to a heroes welcome, but they were treated to just what the half-demon (I think that was this setting's term for tiefling) needed. He ate everything he could stomach, drank deep of water, washed himself up, and then went to bed.
(Hatch is an odd guy, he sleeps in his armor, weapons in hand, he never tosses and turns in his sleep, but he does suffer from nightmares that he sometimes wakes screaming from if you want to roll for that)
The night passed peacefully and the companions were able to get some rest, coming down in the morning the inn is quiet with only a few folks sitting at the tables.
Torinn approaches you and repeats his desire to travel to Port Blacksand, " Perhaps we will meet again.", his scaled form departed through the door of the inn and into the morning light.
Connar came downstairs looking rested but bleary eyed.
A young man indicates a table laid with black bread and fried onions and sausages, " Your breakfast, Sirs. As Arranged."
Looking about the common room there are two old men dressed in merchants garb, a chestnut skinned female gnome dressed in colourful silks and a male halfling with chestnut colored hair, light pale skin and a brown leather vest on his chest a small black hooded cloak and leather boots with sheathed daggers.
I get out of my seat and approach the group “Oh you’re an interesting group, we’re you the ones that dealt with the undead problem?”
”Me name’s Littyus Latudan but you can call me Litty”
OOC:I’m the halfling btw
Connar looked down at the little halfling, " That we are. The Heroes of Chalice."
" Litty? I am Connar Ravanan....and I'm going to eat some sausages."
“Hello Connor, who are the rest of your friends?”
Hatch came down, mumbled some greetings, and went straight to eating breakfast. He wasn't much of a morning person. He did nod to the new person, Litty.
“I see you must be a paladin” he moves behind Hatch
and he is going to try and pickpocket him Because he must have something valuable seeing as how he is a hero of chalice
22
He’ll take out 5 gold coins
Thom would come down the stairs and do a few stretches. "Top of the mornin' lads! And lasses!"
He would bid a pleasant farewell to Torinn, and then join Connar for some sausages. He laughs at him when he mentions that we are heros "Bah! Heros we are not! Although it's nice to think so I suppose." Tom grins at Connar then sees Hatch come down, being his quiet self. Tom was sure glad the tiefling was on our side.
Then responds to Litty: "Pleased to meet you Litty. The name's Tom. Ay, we were able to luckily stifle the undeads plans, and you know, stop the dungeon from landing on the city. No big deal." Tom laughs and hopes that Connar does too.
Tom notices Litty standing behind Hatch. Obviously he doesn't see the pickpocket happen because of that roll... but nonetheless he can see the halfling just standing behind Hatch, and he thinks it's creepy. "Have you never seen a tiefling or something, friend? Are you looking at his tail? It's quite interesting, isn't it?" this would get Hatch's attention and ensure no other pickpockets occur I would think.
OOC: Dude... what are you doing?
Actually if the DM will allow it, I'd like to roll a Perception check vs. Litty's unnamed roll, to see if Thom might've noticed the theft.
11
OOC: Don't worry about it. Player is gone.