Storm King's Thunder

// the party is separated that's fine, when we gather together, we'll disseminate information - at least that which we want to or remember to share, eg just because I read about Angel and Urgala converse about the sword doesn't mean that Ink knows it //

Quote from Hardcopi >>

//I was thinking we were all relatively close to each other going in and out of buildings. 

By now, Flint is wandering the town looking for the others.

Ink asks Darathra, "Where would a dwarf recommend another dwarf to go eat and drink - that's where we'd find Flint and Angel would be at the Northshield - he's obsessed with Urgala's dogs."

After Darathra gives her suggestion, Ink will suggest to Marav to go to the location Darathra suggests to meet Flint there, ask a favor of Darathra to advise Rip of the same location as he's in the tower's library, and then let them know that Ink will collect Angel from the Northshield....

//Perhaps we can assume that this works out reasonably well and pick up at the tavern?//

//Sounds good to me. We meet up at the tavern. Figure out where to next, sounds like there are some things we need to do in town. Marav is a little annoyed at that wizard who let them fight against the giants without so much as sending his gargoyles to help out.//

Marav claps Ink on the back, "Let's go, get some food, company and rest. I have a feeling that down times are going to be few and far between."

//Marav is gonna make sure everyone knows where the party is at so that if there is trouble they can be gotten quickly. Before we go, the giant ring, are we leaving that or digging that up?//

// I think it's reasonable to assume you find each other :) and yes if you'd like to all be in the Talking Troll, then let it be so. //

// At the Talking Troll Flint shares what Gheldryn told him about stopping there before we leave town //

"Any o' ye know where we bunkin'?"

 //leaving the ring, it's not feasible for us to carry it, but tomorrow morning Ink will study it for an hour and then suggest again to Darathra she secure it until reinforcements come. //

 //Talking Troll it is.... Insert screen swipe here //

Before Angel left for the Talking Troll he would have asked Urgala where else in town could get a room for the night. He would also have said goodbye to her doggies. 

"The Northshield House isn't suitable to host guest right now. Oh, and Urgala, as thanks, said she has an old adventuring friend in Zymorven Hall with a Giant-Slaying Sword and she is sure that he would be willing to part with it if she asked. It could be a useful weapon in case we need to defend another town against giants. Speaking of that Rip, Ink did you ever find out what they were looking for."

//Marav is starting to feel uncomfortable about changing into a wolf around Angel. :D//

The Troll is what Waterdhavians would call a dive: a dim, smelly, low-beamed place crammed with mismatched, battered old furniture and drunks. One of the patrons, in particular, looks very pitiful—a man in traveler's robes, sleeping in a drunken stupor in a corner of the common room, barely noticed by the Troll’s other patrons. He wears an amulet around his neck and holds an empty mug in his lax grip.

The human proprietor is friendly enough, and introduces himself as Kaelen Sarssir. He has a theatrical air about him, and ends many of his sentences with a flourish or bow.

When Sarssir sees you looking around, he says, "Ah yes, part of the roof caught fire two summers ago and has yet to be repaired. The holes in the roof have allowed birds to build nests among the rafters!" This would explain why the air is filled with twittering birdsong and the floor and tables are speckled with little white splotches.

"Got ta be some catch, who'd part wit' a magic sword, an' a giant slayer no less, ta strangers at their door?"

"There's always a catch Flint, always a catch." Marav wants to get a closer look at the amulet that guy is wearing and the guy himself. Pitiful creature with amulet spells something different about him.

Perception: 22

//A plus 4 and I roll a 2... <sigh>//

"Suits me fine Master Sarssir.  A round o' ale 'ere, an' a meal if ye got a kitchen."  With a thumb to the guy in the corner "What's 'is story?"

//Always super active before I get up//

Rip is the last to arrive, and does so in grand fashion! He kicks the door open loudly to get the patrons attention before he begins...

"Thundering footsteps and a clever avian friend were our only warning, Giants were approaching Triboar! With them came Orcs ready for killing, pillaging, and burning! We prepared our defenses alongside Triboar's best and bravest fighters, well the closest at least, knowing full well this would be our last stand! As the Orcs came charging at us upon their overgrown chickens we did not falter for we had forgotten the meaning of fear...." 

Rip regales the patrons the tale of "Terror at Triboar!" with grandiose flair, leaping from table to table as he pantomimed every blow and strike. He even included the efforts to combat the Magmins, but as he wasn't there/didn't see it he made it up. doubling the amount of magmins at least, and telling a harrowing tale of fire and death. By the end of it he had the whole place cheering and celebrating the recent victory, maybe even scoring the party some free drinks as he would occasionally stop mid tale and exaggerate being parched. By the time he sits with the party everybody there considers Rip a true friend (at least until they get sober again) and has received many drunken promises to buy his books.

// Flint returned 1 gem to party treasury //

"A fine entrance lad, yer gettin' better at this."

Marav buries his face in his drink raising his hood and trying to turn invisible and pretending not to notice the halfling.

The tavern; containing around two dozen beings in all, erupts in applause several times at Rip's telling. 

When the halfling bard is done and sits down, the proprietor greets him with drinks in hand. "Hail fellow thespian! I am Kaelen Sarssir, and welcome to the future site of the Talking Troll Theatre. May I interest you in a drink from the cellar?" He distributes the bottles and mugs around the table for the rest of you. 

Quote from DarthAvarice >>

"Suits me fine Master Sarssir.  A round o' ale 'ere, an' a meal if ye got a kitchen."  With a thumb to the guy in the corner "What's 'is story?"