This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
OOC note: I'm looking for a DM. Until I find one, I'm going to be the DM and a player. I'll send interested parties my notes.
Half-Elf's Sleight of Hand:20 Noble's Perception: 4 A lithely built half-elf with blue eyes is tossing a coin purse up and down, smirking at his mark from behind as he passes by. The man adjusts his hood as he spotting the Yawning Portal and sliding on in at a random table that may or may not have others at it, snagging someone's mug on the way when they're distracted by their darts game. If it has other people, well. This guy don't know 'em. But he flashes a friendly smile. "Hello, may I sit here?"
I botched that up. Editing just looks suspicious, so I'm restarting over.
The Half-Elf's hand slips into the purple clad noblewoman's belt. Slipping her purple purse out with zero difficulties. She didn't notice, and probably won't notice until she gets home. The woman with the parasol just kept walkin' down the street, not singing do ma dum baby dam uh dumb eh do, on this rainy Spring day. The man looks up as a droplet gets in his eye, looking annoyed. Pulling his hood up, he starts walking off. Smirking as he counts the gold. 15. More than his zero. Spying the Yawning Portal, he slips in. To both get out of the rain and to spend his gold.
He finds himself sitting at a sturdy wooden table lit by a brightly burning candle and littered with plates cleared of food and half-drained tankards. The sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables over.
Then all the noise is eclipsed by a shout: "Ya pig! Like killin' me mates, does ya?" Then a seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure-but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl. The half-elf finds himself drawn to the spectacle. "Five against one? Now that's not fair."
Ducking under others, he joins in. Knuckles held up. Ready to enter the fray on the Half-Orc's behalf. He is not the only one.
For on the way to knock the Half-Orc's teeth in, the human knocked a dragonborn clad in splintmail aside, causing his trey and food to go flying off. Irritated, the red dragonborn makes way to grab at the nearest human friend of the man with the eye tattoo.
This single act caused a chain reaction. For the food went flying and the potatoes, the gravy, the chips and the quipper smacked right into a woman's face. This woman, saw the source of it all. That man with the ink. This human lady was going to stay out of it. But her dress is ruined now. Blue eldritch energy starts to gather in her hands, before she remembers that this isn't Baldur's Gate and she can't simply ask the guards to dump the dead bodies in an accomodating ditch. Still. This slight won't go unpunished.
Meanwhile, a cleric of Tymora watches this all go down. The human cackles gleefully, as they join in. Stating. "Ah, why the hell not!"
Another man watches impassively as his studies are interrupted. "Brutes." murmurs the man as he flips a book.
OOC note: I'm looking for a DM. Until I find one, I'm going to be the DM and a player. I'll send interested parties my notes.
Half-Elf's Sleight of Hand:20 Noble's Perception: 4 A lithely built half-elf with blue eyes is tossing a coin purse up and down, smirking at his mark from behind as he passes by. The man adjusts his hood as he spotting the Yawning Portal and sliding on in at a random table that may or may not have others at it, snagging someone's mug on the way when they're distracted by their darts game. If it has other people, well. This guy don't know 'em. But he flashes a friendly smile. "Hello, may I sit here?"
I botched that up. Editing just looks suspicious, so I'm restarting over.
Half Elf's Sleight of Hand roll: 15 Noble's Perception roll: 9
The Half-Elf's hand slips into the purple clad noblewoman's belt. Slipping her purple purse out with zero difficulties. She didn't notice, and probably won't notice until she gets home. The woman with the parasol just kept walkin' down the street, not singing do ma dum baby dam uh dumb eh do, on this rainy Spring day. The man looks up as a droplet gets in his eye, looking annoyed. Pulling his hood up, he starts walking off. Smirking as he counts the gold. 15. More than his zero. Spying the Yawning Portal, he slips in. To both get out of the rain and to spend his gold.
He finds himself sitting at a sturdy wooden table lit by a brightly burning candle and littered with plates cleared of food and half-drained tankards. The sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables over.
Then all the noise is eclipsed by a shout: "Ya pig! Like killin' me mates, does ya?" Then a seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure-but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl. The half-elf finds himself drawn to the spectacle. "Five against one? Now that's not fair."
Ducking under others, he joins in. Knuckles held up. Ready to enter the fray on the Half-Orc's behalf. He is not the only one.
For on the way to knock the Half-Orc's teeth in, the human knocked a dragonborn clad in splintmail aside, causing his trey and food to go flying off. Irritated, the red dragonborn makes way to grab at the nearest human friend of the man with the eye tattoo.
This single act caused a chain reaction. For the food went flying and the potatoes, the gravy, the chips and the quipper smacked right into a woman's face. This woman, saw the source of it all. That man with the ink. This human lady was going to stay out of it. But her dress is ruined now. Blue eldritch energy starts to gather in her hands, before she remembers that this isn't Baldur's Gate and she can't simply ask the guards to dump the dead bodies in an accomodating ditch. Still. This slight won't go unpunished.
Meanwhile, a cleric of Tymora watches this all go down. The human cackles gleefully, as they join in. Stating. "Ah, why the hell not!"
Another man watches impassively as his studies are interrupted. "Brutes." murmurs the man as he flips a book.
It is here I will be presenting roster characters with their character sheets.
Hi
can l play?
can I too?
Aluqwyn - D&D Beyond (dndbeyond.com)