"Thank you for your hospitality. Would you have any magic dealers her abouts? Specifically looking for a scroll or two. We have fire taken care of pretty handily, but could always use some other things."
"Everlund or Silverymoon would probably be your best bet...we don't have anyone here that practices magic as of yet, not even a priest."
"Perhaps we can sell this necklace. No reason to be carrying 100 lbs of iron for no real reason. And if a fire giant used it for jewelry, it would be of exceptional quality."
"We usually make use of Yartar or Everlund for blacksmithing purposes, but I'd gladly pay you for the iron. Our smith is an old friend of mine, very old, and he keeps busy making horseshoes, nails, and other common things. I can take the iron off your hands—looks like it's worth at least a gold piece or two."
"Oh he does? Well let it not be said Rip Dangerfield doesn't appreciate his fans!" Rip pulls out copies of his next 2 volumes (our adventure so far-ish) and quickly scrawls his name on them "First editions, not even in print yet! Also I get the taller thing a lot, its like nobody knows how tall halflings are." he shrugs as he hands her the books.
Tamalin accepts the books. "Well then, Rip Dangerfield, I'm sure he'll get a kick out of them. He's out on patrol right now, but I'll give them to him when he returns. You might have someone looking for an autograph before long."
"I think the trolls are just dumb muscle for the fire giants. Still haven't figured out what they are doing, only that they are going crazy, attacking villages and generally stirring up trouble. We have been trying to warn people as we go."
"Lass, ah'd rather not say out in th' open. Do ye got a quiet place ta talk?" Flint reveals his Lord's Alliance pin and corporal's rank insignia and guages her reaction. Insight: 26
"Lass, ah'd rather not say out in th' open. Do ye got a quiet place ta talk?" Flint reveals his Lord's Alliance pin and corporal's rank insignia and guages her reaction. Insight: 26
"Always happy to deal with the Lord's Alliance," says Tamalin. You detect a note of shrewd discernment and cunning—Zoar has the air of an entrepreneur, a networker, and a member of nobility. "We try to maintain good relationships with our neighbors. Boys, to your posts," she says to the others accompanying her. "We have business to discuss."
The others acquiesce, grabbing their weapons and heading through the Inn towards the front exit. While they do, Tamalin notes Flint's rank insignia. "A corporal—you fought in the war, then? Against the Many-Arrows, I'm assuming?" She smiles a rather hard smile, one that has a fair bit of pain hidden behind it.
"I think the trolls are just dumb muscle for the fire giants. Still haven't figured out what they are doing, only that they are going crazy, attacking villages and generally stirring up trouble. We have been trying to warn people as we go."
"Well, it seems that this particular fire giant, Zaastrid might have been her name, was enslaving local trolls - at the very least she had the one troll slave based on Marav's observations."
"Regarding the adamantium, we don't know who is helping them, but someone must be - neither trolls nor fire giants are particularly magical, especially in divination magics."
"Interesting," says Tamalin. "So fire giants are the cause of all the unrest with the trolls? I like the theory. But it's troubling me that you say they're looking for adamantium, and yet we have no idea how they're finding it. I mean, what if we have adamantium among us? Will be be a target for these giants? Trolls are easy enough to defend against f you know how, but giants?" she shakes her head. "I don't like our chances. It was bad enough with reports of stone giants to the south, but now apparently we've got fire giants to the west."
"Regarding the adamantium, we don't know who is helping them, but someone must be - neither trolls nor fire giants are particularly magical, especially in divination magics."
"Hold there," says Tamalin, seeming catching a brain wave. "You lot look to be proficient in magic. If the fire giants are using divination magic, as you suggest, do you have any way to stymie them? I suppose you'd need to know details about how they are divining things. But maybe there's a way to block or avert them?"
“Well. They use these rods to find the metal. We have the ones we took off the fire giants we beat. We can use it to tell you if there is any nearby. That way you will know.”
"Hold there," says Tamalin, seeming catching a brain wave. "You lot look to be proficient in magic. If the fire giants are using divination magic, as you suggest, do you have any way to stymie them? I suppose you'd need to know details about how they are divining things. But maybe there's a way to block or avert them?"
Ink sighs and gives a slight face palm, his eyes, if his hands were not blocking them from Tamalin's glance, could be seen given a sidelong look at Angel, "You know - I should have thought about this sooner. Does that blacksmith friend of yours have any lead? Lead can block most divination magic.... I simply cannot believe I hadn't thought of that sooner."
"Lead? Yes, I would imagine Old Ren would have some on hand. He usually works late so you still might be able to catch him at the smithy. How can it block divination magic?"
"And could I see one of these rods?" Tamara asked Angel.
"Honestly, I'm not sure - some metallurgical property of the metal I imagine. Flint understands metal better than I - perhaps he can explain. I'm going to see your blacksmith friend - I know people who would be interested in the metal."
Ink stuffs his gear pack into the bag of holding (relieving his encumbrance), and shoulders the iron necklace. He thanks Tamalin and heads to the blacksmith.
When he's out of earshot, he waves at the party, casts message towards Rip saying, "Angel said too much, try smoothing it over. I don't fully trust her."
“Oh, I’d don’t have them. Ink uses them. I don’t understand a lot about magic so I leave most of it to him. I’m more of the punchy punchy kick kind of guy.”
And as Angel says this he throws out a few punches at the air.
“But I do have two dogs. Would you like to meet them? They’re names are Cade and Scrappy and their super cute.”
"I'm more of a cat person," says Tamalin, after nodding demurely at Angel's martial display. She then rises, dons her breastplate, and checks her weapons. "Well...thank you all for the riveting conversation. We're happy to have you stay with us—I'll make sure that Nhek knows to have some beds ready for you. I'll take my leave now, must make one last round before dusk."
With that, she strides through the Inn towards the front exit. The sun is taking one last peek from behind the hills on the western horizon. You can see gnats dancing in its failing rays of light, as before you the fire crackles warmly.
--
Meanwhile, Ink easily discovers the smithy by means of his ears.
The sharp, steady clank clank clank of metal on metal rings through the lower part of the village, and there on the covered porch of a shake-and-log cabin is possibly one of the oldest humans you've ever laid eyes on. His back is bent, and his limbs are thin but obviously strong, given the way he handles the metal upon his anvil. His long, wispy white beard is tucked into his belted apron, and it's the only hair on his head, save for a fair amount coming out of his large ears. As you approach, he looks up with tired, cloudy eyes and pauses momentarily from his work—an iron band, from the looks of it. Before you even hit the porch, he addresses you. "More scrap metal? You can set it o'er there," he says, gesturing to an empty corner of the porch. He then goes back to hammering.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
While walking towards the smith, Ink takes care to keep a look around him to see if he's being followed, tracked or generally being kept under observation... // Perception 17 //
Ink responds, "Well, I wouldn't necessarily call it 'scrap.' It is an iron necklace forged by a fire giant for a fire giantess. Given their prowess with an anvil and forge, I'm guessing its quality is better than that of the typical 'scrap' iron found. It even has her name imprinted on it in in their language." Ink does his best to show him the Dethek runes on the necklace.
Ink is looking to get two thin sheets of lead, just slightly bigger than size of the ring but still able to fit in the cart. He will try to barter the lead for the iron.
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Tamalin accepts the books. "Well then, Rip Dangerfield, I'm sure he'll get a kick out of them. He's out on patrol right now, but I'll give them to him when he returns. You might have someone looking for an autograph before long."
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"I think the trolls are just dumb muscle for the fire giants. Still haven't figured out what they are doing, only that they are going crazy, attacking villages and generally stirring up trouble. We have been trying to warn people as we go."
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"Well then, how do they find adamantium? And how do you know they're after it?" Tamalin leans in as if hearing a riveting mystery.
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"Lass, ah'd rather not say out in th' open. Do ye got a quiet place ta talk?" Flint reveals his Lord's Alliance pin and corporal's rank insignia and guages her reaction. Insight: 26
//Sheesh with that insight roll I am pretty sure you know anything about her you want to know.//
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"Interesting," says Tamalin. "So fire giants are the cause of all the unrest with the trolls? I like the theory. But it's troubling me that you say they're looking for adamantium, and yet we have no idea how they're finding it. I mean, what if we have adamantium among us? Will be be a target for these giants? Trolls are easy enough to defend against f you know how, but giants?" she shakes her head. "I don't like our chances. It was bad enough with reports of stone giants to the south, but now apparently we've got fire giants to the west."
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“Well. They use these rods to find the metal. We have the ones we took off the fire giants we beat. We can use it to tell you if there is any nearby. That way you will know.”
Angel offers as a solution to her problem.
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// FINALLY! :D I'm running errands but will hope to post again sometime tonight. //
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"Lead? Yes, I would imagine Old Ren would have some on hand. He usually works late so you still might be able to catch him at the smithy. How can it block divination magic?"
"And could I see one of these rods?" Tamara asked Angel.
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"Honestly, I'm not sure - some metallurgical property of the metal I imagine. Flint understands metal better than I - perhaps he can explain. I'm going to see your blacksmith friend - I know people who would be interested in the metal."
Ink stuffs his gear pack into the bag of holding (relieving his encumbrance), and shoulders the iron necklace. He thanks Tamalin and heads to the blacksmith.
When he's out of earshot, he waves at the party, casts message towards Rip saying, "Angel said too much, try smoothing it over. I don't fully trust her."
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“Oh, I’d don’t have them. Ink uses them. I don’t understand a lot about magic so I leave most of it to him. I’m more of the punchy punchy kick kind of guy.”
And as Angel says this he throws out a few punches at the air.
“But I do have two dogs. Would you like to meet them? They’re names are Cade and Scrappy and their super cute.”
"I'm more of a cat person," says Tamalin, after nodding demurely at Angel's martial display. She then rises, dons her breastplate, and checks her weapons. "Well...thank you all for the riveting conversation. We're happy to have you stay with us—I'll make sure that Nhek knows to have some beds ready for you. I'll take my leave now, must make one last round before dusk."
With that, she strides through the Inn towards the front exit. The sun is taking one last peek from behind the hills on the western horizon. You can see gnats dancing in its failing rays of light, as before you the fire crackles warmly.
--
Meanwhile, Ink easily discovers the smithy by means of his ears.
The sharp, steady clank clank clank of metal on metal rings through the lower part of the village, and there on the covered porch of a shake-and-log cabin is possibly one of the oldest humans you've ever laid eyes on. His back is bent, and his limbs are thin but obviously strong, given the way he handles the metal upon his anvil. His long, wispy white beard is tucked into his belted apron, and it's the only hair on his head, save for a fair amount coming out of his large ears. As you approach, he looks up with tired, cloudy eyes and pauses momentarily from his work—an iron band, from the looks of it. Before you even hit the porch, he addresses you. "More scrap metal? You can set it o'er there," he says, gesturing to an empty corner of the porch. He then goes back to hammering.
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While walking towards the smith, Ink takes care to keep a look around him to see if he's being followed, tracked or generally being kept under observation...
// Perception 17 //
Ink responds, "Well, I wouldn't necessarily call it 'scrap.' It is an iron necklace forged by a fire giant for a fire giantess. Given their prowess with an anvil and forge, I'm guessing its quality is better than that of the typical 'scrap' iron found. It even has her name imprinted on it in in their language." Ink does his best to show him the Dethek runes on the necklace.
Ink is looking to get two thin sheets of lead, just slightly bigger than size of the ring but still able to fit in the cart. He will try to barter the lead for the iron.
Storm King's Thunder - Ink, Elven Bladesinging Wizard
Core City: APbPA - Ormond, Human Twilight Cleric
The Inferno - BG:Dia - DM
They keep me rollin'