His performance complete, and being amused by the entertainment that the Swordlords had inadvertently provided by inviting some unexpected guests, Gromar gets down from the table, grabs another drink from a nearby servant that isn't quite sure how to react to the impromptu performance and starts to mingle a bit. Hearing an interesting conversation regarding the quality of folks being summoned, he joins it. "I suspect you that you are right, fair lady; these kinds of opportunities are as much about cleaning out the streets as they are about building heroes. They will likely group the capable ones together, and everyone else will be cannon fodder sent out to soften the region up. The real question will be who they decide are the capable ones. The region in question is a rough one, and relying entirely on noble blood unused to the dangers of the land would be risky. The odd ones here are quite likely the ones with the necessary skills to survive out there."
Snotboogie turns his attention to the recent arrival prominently bearing the symbol of Sarenrae;
Thank you for giving Snotboogie benefit of the doubt! That flower on your armor... is symbol of dancing-fire-lady-god, yes? Snotboogie like her! Snotboogie knew a man who worshipped dancing-fire-lady-god once. He nice to Snotboogie! Take little baby Snotboogie and his brothers and sisters to the drunk people temple! Teach Snotboogie about fire! Snotboogie not suppose you know if anyone here can help him take chains off?"
Snotboogie thrusts out his chained hands, to demonstrate his predicament, self consciously clutching the rags around his left hand very tightly. Can't let him see it! Can't let the nice people see it!
Serafina wishes she could take back her compliment as the fine gnomish orator snubs her (and to be fair, the nobleman) to join in a conversation a few paces away. Rude people! As she finishes her meal, she stands up, stretching. She suspects she hasn't sat still that long since before...well, before she ended up here. Her dark eyes flutter back to the nobleman, or more likely, the nobleman's son. A pale hand runs its fingers through the ebon tresses, moving them out of her face as she awaits a reply.
the girl seems not to have noticed Gramlag's offer and it seems her mind is elsewhere, shrugging Gramlag looks to remove himself from the doorway as many people appear to be in attendance for this meeting and he is more a road block than anything at the moment.
returning to his seat Gramlag absently speaks to himself out loud saying "It seems there is quite a diverse group here, the fairer folk are no surprise but the more bestial creatures i was not expecting. i wonder how many will be selected for the expeditions, i gather it wont be everyone in this room as large groups get unwieldy after a fashion. I hope i get selected, the simple life has reached its point of expiration and ill be needing to have an adventure one way or another i think."
Gramlag feels mildly out of place in this room full of people, he has never been particularly good at introducing himself to strangers, an odd habit of putting his foot in his mouth has made him a tad unsure of how to start a conversation so he takes his drink in hand an waits for things to start.
Looking down at the little goblin Oh you are correct my little friend I do worship Sarenrae the Dawnflower. Compassion and peace are her greatest virtues so it does not surprise me that a follower helped you we believe that if a soul can be redeemed we should do so and if not may the fires and sword of Sarenrae act swiftly. By the way I am Ederzand.
Seeing the goblins plight Ederzand wishes he could do something but alas he is no locksmith.
Sorry, to see you still in chains but I do not have the abilities to get those off of you.
watching the door while he waits Gramlag notices that the kobolds managed to gain entry good, im glad they're in, seems they have invitations after all and a pair of little lizards can hardly be a nuisance
still watching the door the next entrant catches his eye, a half elf far as he can see, and the fact that she seems a tad uncomfortable among this pack of nobles and their ilk means she is likely to need some company that she isnt afraid will look down on her. time to make a friend perhaps
leaving his gear at his seat he makes his way over. "pardon my intrusion lass but you look like you dont know anyone here and could use a friendly face, me name be Gramlag would you care to have a seat with me while the details of this meeting pass at least? i know no one here and it seems neither do you" Gramlag says, tone a tad gruff to be heard over the conversations of the room motioning to where his gear is resting at a seat by kitchens
Yanda has a initial feeling of suspicion towards the dwarf's sudden forwardness, but it dissipates quickly. She does acknowledge the dwarf with a smile, but she stays quiet until she joins him to the table. This is after getting distracted by the goblin's loud entrance. She felt compassion for the Goblin, it was all alone, like she has been at times. Her conflicted hesitation to help was based on the fact that the Goblin could possibly be dangerous. If she freed the Goblin and the Goblin did do harm to other people within this place, she would feel guilty about it. Guilty because no one truly deserves harm done to them. But, in a world like this, harm still happens. Maybe the Goblin deserved the chains for the crime he committed. Yanda did not know for sure. "I will probably inquire about it later."
the girl seems not to have noticed Gramlag's offer and it seems her mind is elsewhere, shrugging Gramlag looks to remove himself from the doorway as many people appear to be in attendance for this meeting and he is more a road block than anything at the moment.
returning to his seat Gramlag absently speaks to himself out loud saying "It seems there is quite a diverse group here, the fairer folk are no surprise but the more bestial creatures i was not expecting. i wonder how many will be selected for the expeditions, i gather it wont be everyone in this room as large groups get unwieldy after a fashion. I hope i get selected, the simple life has reached its point of expiration and ill be needing to have an adventure one way or another i think."
Gramlag feels mildly out of place in this room full of people, he has never been particularly good at introducing himself to strangers, an odd habit of putting his foot in his mouth has made him a tad unsure of how to start a conversation so he takes his drink in hand an waits for things to start.
Yandasna replys in a polite tone, "There are many eyes upon us. It is best to look our best."
Sitting next to the dwarf, she picks out a handful of grapes to eat. Upon looking at Gramlag's spiked shield curiously, she asks, "Are you a warrior in trade? I have not seen action myself, only read about war in the books."
With a chuckle at Erimriel's question, Morvan said, "Oh, indeed. However, I suspect they may have already chosen some for expeditions. They may even have already left."
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"I'm sorry my lady I was a little distracted"
"Personally my own training as an Inquisitor leads me to believe that some of the attendees interesting proclivities and no doubt history of misdeeds would make them unsuitable to work as an effective team over an extended period of time"
"My opinion is not the decider though, so we shall see were the wind blows, yourself you seem a Lady of the world, less sheltered than myself at least, what do you think?"
Serafina knew all about working as an effective team. In her former line of work, knowing your role and playing your part were paramount to success. She blanches a little at the man's additional title, Inquisitor. She maintains her charming smile, though, nodding at his words.
"Indeed. I have no doubt that there are some real miscreants in here. Not you, of course..." She reaches forward, lightly touching his arm with the tips of her fingers, as she grins up at him. She tilts her head lightly to the side, letting their eyes meet for a second before retreating a step, nodding once again.
She takes a pensive pose, one arm across her midsection, the elbow of the other resting in the previous palm, her finger tapping on the corner of her mouth as she looks up, thoughtful. In truth, she used the distraction to cool off. Lady of the world!? How dare he!? She chuckles finally, shaking her head, "I think that if the Swordlords send half of these folk, they'll turn to banditry themselves before too long. I've seen it happen before when you get unsavory sorts like that together."
"Ettersand. Edder sand. Ederzand. That name is a mouthful. Me am Snotboogie! Pleasure to meet you! Snotboogie not used to seeing followers of dancing-fire-lady-god here in Brevoy. The man Snotboogie know before, he come from far away, from the City of Qat-and-Pesh. Other man say Qat-and-Pesh City have huuuuuuuuu--
Holding the syllable for a long time, the goblin takes his clasped hands, and begins to try to spread them wide as he says 'huuuuuuuuuge' for emphasis, before realizing that the chains limit the range to which he can do so...
"Ow! Really really big temple to dancing-fire-lady-god where there be gigantic fires burning all the time. Snotboogie like to see fires that big someday... You come from Qat-and-Pesh City too?
At this, Snotboogie begins to look around the room, furtively, before moving closer to Ederzand, jumping up on to a nearby bench, and tugging on his sleeve for him to come in closer. He holds up his hands up to his face, and somewhat less quietly than might still be wise, continues:
"Qat and Pesh hard to find here in Restov, but Snotboogie knows where to gets... You need some? Just ask Snotboogie. Snotboogie can get you anything else you needs too. Allnight, Bachelor Snuff, Shiver, Alchemists Kindness, Flayleaf... Snotboogie even have a little garden of Yellowcap Mushrooms!Just, uh... No tell mean guard peoples, okay? Thems not like Snotboogie selling things. That why they put me in chains.
"Also, not tell Snotboogie brother.. Snotboogie not want to get yelled at either. But tell all you friends! Mean guard took most of Snotboogie money! Need to get back in business."
On thinking about the circumstances of his arrest, the goblins tone suddenly begins to sound a bit more somber and introspective. He looks down and begins to speak softly, almost to himself...
"Me hope they didn't hurt Omar..."
Those near the door hear a newcomer engage with the doormen, first scoffing at the very notion that he'd have come without an invitation before thanking them for their diligence in asking for it. The voice is gruff and throaty, a deep and gravelly baritone.
A few moments more sees the door of the guildhall open and Khargol enters, dressed in an outfit that one might find on someone with the intention of finding trouble in the wilds, a combination of a sturdy boots, breeches, shirt, and cloak. Beneath the collar, the glint of a chain shirt can be seen. While likely not the most muscular person in the guildhall, Khargol's height of 6'4", combined with his half-orc heritage and brusque demeanor, are likely to cause people to take notice of him.
Seeing easily over the heads of most of those present, he quickly makes his way through those who have answered the summons. The expression he carries is not one that would invite conversation...in fact, many would probably describe it as grimly determined. The sort of look that one wound find on a "man with a mission," as the saying goes.
The tall half-orc takes just a few moments to survey the room, carefully looking from place to place. It is only a slight drop of his shoulders that gives the impression of any sort of relaxation as he moves quickly to take a place near to one of the support columns of the hall, where he takes a rigidly straight stance. While not necessarily exuding an air of unapproachability, it seems that he has no intention of being the initiator of conversation...at least, not for the moment.
Yandasna replys in a polite tone, "There are many eyes upon us. It is best to look our best."
Sitting next to the dwarf, she picks out a handful of grapes to eat. Upon looking at Gramlag's spiked shield curiously, she asks, "Are you a warrior in trade? I have not seen action myself, only read about war in the books."
Happy to see the lass has acknowledged his presence gramlag now can clearly see that she feels like she must act the part of a noble here. "Eyes can watch all they like, my armour is clean and my gear neat, i care not what they think beyond that though your right in some looking down upon some of us."
when she takes notice of his shields Gramlag gets a tad giddy saying "Ive seen no realy action no lass, i patroled with the local militia when the mood took me and i spent time making the armour and shields you see me with today, their quality isnt so great id stamp my name on them and send them to market but they have seen me through a few ordeals and im far more adept with a shield in my hand than a sword id like to think, bloodshed isnt something to do lightly but thieves dont always take nicly to 'stop robbing us' and 'leave now and ill let you live' they tend to react with some aggression when you dont grant them what they demand" recanting the fights that Gramlag has been in he shows that he clearly enjoys the fights but also clearly distastes any time he is forced to kill an opponent.
"my militia commander gave me an invitation to this meeting as a strong arm to aid an expedition if im selected, im curios, if battle is not your forte then i take it you are skilled in other areas? what do you bring to a group if you dont mind me asking lass?" he asked wanting to learn more about this woman as it seems a good way to pass the time before the event begins
"I suspect you that you are right, fair lady; these kinds of opportunities are as much about cleaning out the streets as they are about building heroes. They will likely group the capable ones together, and everyone else will be cannon fodder sent out to soften the region up. The real question will be who they decide are the capable ones. The region in question is a rough one, and relying entirely on noble blood unused to the dangers of the land would be risky. The odd ones here are quite likely the ones with the necessary skills to survive out there."
"Cennon fodder? What is thet? They go die in the Stolen Lends on purpose? I think they'll piss their pents end beg the bendits to spare them. Then we hev more bendits to deal with!" Perhaps alarmingly, unlikely though her version of events might be, the dark haired young woman speaks her mind with an excited grin. It's as if the prospect of even more bandits to overcome is actually preferable to her.
"I hope they take off their chains before they send them south. Thet would make things too easy," she jokes, sparing a quick glance to the goblin nearby.
With a chuckle at Erimriel's question, Morvan said, "Oh, indeed. However, I suspect they may have already chosen some for expeditions. They may even have already left."
Erimriel glowers at the response and gives the room another once over with her gaze, before growling out, "I don't understend. The invitation said to meet here today, et this hour. If heroes already left to tame the lends ahead of us, I will not be heppy, no metter how much pig and drink they stick in my face. Peh! We will be first. Surely they would not do something so eggrevating."
"Some have a much greater distance to travel. I have heard a rumor they intend to send some to the Hooktongue Slough, a swamp on the Western edges of the Stolen Land. Surely whomever would go there would have a much harder time traveling."
To himself, he thought, This woman is intent on going out and being the first. Has she something to prove, I wonder, as I do? And who must she prove herself to?
Looking to the goblin
No the temple where I was raised was quite small and in the country. We took care of the sick and blessed crops. Our fires would be much smaller than those of a grand temple of which you spoke.
Ederzand purposefully skates the discussion on the drugs, Drugs corrupt the mind and soul. This little one needs a guiding presence in his life. Sarenrae I pray you can help him.
turning to the lady
I must agree with you Erimriel, I would think it aggravating if they brought us here only to not allow us to accomplish something. I have lived my life waiting for an opportunity like this and I would not want it to pass me by only to have someone else succeed where I was not given the chance.
He looks down at his hands quickly and then turns his attention back to the others.
I must say this waiting is making me anxious to find out the Lord's decision
Looking up to see what the commotion is at the door Ederzand see the half-orc enter and then looks at the others.
And still more arrive. How much longer do you think this will be?
Snotboogie know when he being ignored!
The goblin hops off the bench, landing somewhat clumsily, tripped up by the chains, and wanders under the table to look at the belts of the assembled revellers...
Lock picks, who has got some lock picks...
Catching the eye of the Aasimar who gave him a glance when he entered the room, he offers only a curt nod of recognition.
However, when he first notices the goblin on the bench jump off of it, the jangling of chains making his movement somewhat less than stealthy, he immediately moves from his positions, his hand moving to rest against the pommel of a sword hanging at his right side. He makes no movement to draw it..yet.
When he gets to the table he last saw the goblin near, he speaks in a loud, clear voice.
"I would suggest you come out from beneath that table, 'friend', lest some present get the wrong idea of your intentions. The Master of the First Vault does not abide thievery and neither do I."
The goblin wanders the length of the table, looking carefully at - but not touching! - lower halves of the assembled sitting there.
Now if Snotboogie was thief who picked locks, what sort of things would Snotboogie carry...
Just as he sets eyes on a promising prospect, he hears the half-orc attempt to address him, and scrambles out from under the table, already quite far away from the orc, and where he had gone in.
"Snotboogie is not thief! Snotboogie wishes he was thief right about now... Thief could take off these stupid chains. Why everyone think Snotboogie a thief? Did mean guards tell that lie about Snotboogie too?"
At this, the Goblin begins to tear up a bit...
"Guards say Snotboogie a thief. Snotboogie not thief. Guards say Snotboogie an Arse-ist. Snotbgooie not like Donkeys, but he not have any particular problem with donkeys, and he certainly never do anything to them! Guards say Snotboogie is after 'the children'. Snotboogie know some gobbers eat children, but Snotboogie not that kind of goblin! Snotboogie not want anything to do with children! Snotboogie much rather eat chicken..."
At this thought, the goblin looks up and begins to sniff the air...
"Speaking of which, could you pass piece of chicken to Snotboogie? Snotboogie can smell it on the table, but is very high. Hard to climb up and reach with dumb chains on."
leaning under the table to look at the goblin as he hears its sorrow at being mistreated he grabes a ddrumsick off a chicken and offeres it to him saying "I apologize but i have not the skills to deal with your chains little one but as long as you arnt causing trouble i have no issue with feeding you, here, eat at at least fill your belly, ill not judge you till you wrong me or the people here. if you like take a seat next to me and ill reach for anything you have trouble with. and the term you were having trouble with is ARSONist, it means someone who sets fires that cause damage to property, i have no evidence agianst you on those charges so ill reserve judgement. if *I* catch you doing that mind you probly wont wind up in chains you got that?"
Gramlag though he might be being harsh on the goblin but their kind typically needs far more harshness than words. keeping it fed and happy should keep it out of trouble for the evening at least and trouble for another day.
edit:totally forgot some stuff with mr goblin was said in draconic so editing out stuff i shouldnt know
"Cennon fodder? What is thet? They go die in the Stolen Lends on purpose? I think they'll piss their pents end beg the bendits to spare them. Then we hev more bendits to deal with!"
"You are assuming that the existing bandits would welcome them or even bother to ask or listen to them before killing them and taking all their stuff. Or that they would survive their first attempt at banditry. The goal of sending them would be is that collectively they might manage to kill at least a few bandits before dying a completely forgettable death that leaves the streets of Restov with that many less beggars. Perhaps I am wrong, though, and the Swordlords do not have such cynical thoughts going through their heads. We shall find out soon enough, I suppose. In the meantime, there are others to meet, and I don't know how much time I have before they appear, so, enjoy the food and drink, and the best of luck to you, whatever they decide." With a final nod, the gnome turns and looks for the next interesting group or conversation.
leaning under the table to look at the goblin as he hears its sorrow at being mistreated he grabes a ddrumsick off a chicken and offeres it to him saying "I apologize but i have not the skills to deal with your chains little one but as long as you arnt causing trouble i have no issue with feeding you, here, eat at at least fill your belly, ill not judge you till you wrong me or the people here. if you like take a seat next to me and ill reach for anything you have trouble with. and the term you were having trouble with is ARSONist, it means someone who sets fires that cause damage to property, which if i heard you correctly before you certainly are though you were paid to do so. if *I* catch you doing that mind you probly wont wind up in chains you got that?"
Gramlag though he might be being harsh on the goblin but their kind typically needs far more harshness than words. keeping it fed and happy should keep it out of trouble for the evening at least and trouble for another day.
Khargol frowns slightly at the goblin's response, though he does at least remove his hand from the pommel of his sword.
"If you are in chains, I don't think it is for no reason. So tell us, Snotboogie...what have you done that warrants you being put in chains?"
Snotboogie eagerly grabs the offered drumstick and nearly inhales the meat off it, before beginning to gnaw on the bone absentmindedly in hopes of teasing out just a bit more flavor and nutrition. He contemplates simply asking for more, but decides against it, given how most react to him.
Why all these people so afraid of Snotboogie? Lots of longshanks here much scarier than little gobber. Mean snake-man, strong woman who sound like she talk with marbles in her mouth, angry green skin who yell at Snotboogie for being under table... Why they all so afraid of a little goblin?
The goblin wanders off to a nearby column with his chicken bone, and plops down, with a sort of ass-backward falling motion, to sit on the floor with his back to the pillar. He continues to munch on his chicken bone and looks around the room, muttering quietly with his mouth full...
"Now ermf Snotboogie *mmgrrmgm* thief, where Snotboogie hide..."
The goblin continues to chew as he speaks...
Snotboogie already tell you! *Grrrmmmfffhds* lie about Snotboogie! Ask any of Snotboogie customers, he *honeffsst* merchant! Sell Qat and Pesh and Shiver and things! Have little hole in sewer where he live with Omar and keep shop and sell concoctions and herbs to halflings and gnomes from the docks! What wrong with that?
"Now If guards do anything to Omar... Then Snotboogie do something! Snotboogie go to guards house and burn it down and hurt they friends! See how they like what they did to Snotboogie and Omar done to they!"
The half-orc snorts derisively at the idea of arson. "You will do nothing of the sort or I will bring you in for the crime myself. If the guards act outside their purview they will be arrested and tried for those crimes against the city."
"Abadar preserve us, where would we be if everyone went off seeking vengeance for wrongs, be they perceived or actual? Society would collapse into anarchy! The rule of Law must be upheld above all else...and certainly above petty personal grudges."
No one interested in a wagger? Anyone know any good bounties around?
The half-orc snorts derisively at the idea of arson. "You will do nothing of the sort or I will bring you in for the crime myself. If the guards act outside their purview they will be arrested and tried for those crimes against the city."
"Abadar preserve us, where would we be if everyone went off seeking vengeance for wrongs, be they perceived or actual? Society would collapse into anarchy! The rule of Law must be upheld above all else...and certainly above petty personal grudges."
"i certainly agree with the sentiment though i understand those that do seek revenge, emoions can cloud the mind of the less will full. gramlag stated to the large man that was admonishing the goblin. "plenty of seats sir, find a place we have a bit of a wait head of us it seems and there is plenty to eat while we wait. tell me whose invitation brought you here? id love to learn more about my fellow potential mates"
Seeing the nobleman is a bit preoccupied, Serafina dips a shallow curtsie to him, then takes her leave of the man's company, grateful for the reprieve. An inquisitor, and a rude one at that! She threads her way through the crowd, her slender figure working to her advantage as she manages to deftly avoid running into anyone.
Her eyes drift to the commotion at a table near the entrance, and her full lips settle into an amused expression. It seemed the carnival was still running full tilt, and had even added a couple of new attractions. She listens to the banter between the goblin, dwarf, a half-orc, and some young man. Spying the holy symbol, she nods to herself. A priest, of course. And apparently an ambitious one, trying to convert the likes of those! She chuckles, seemingly at nothing.
She makes her way over, all the same. Boredom has ever been her bane. Boldly, she takes a seat beside the woman with the startling blue eyes, turning her head to the side to look at her as she sits. "Quite the gathering tonight, isn't it? What do you think of all this?" The tall woman sits up straight, posture perfect. Don't! Don't! Like a beacon, the woman's nose draws her eye, the sorceress noting the bent angle it assumes on the woman's otherwise fair face. The lady didn't seem the sort to brawl, but her nose had been broken, all the same.
To cover, Serafina smiles in a friendly way at the woman, reaching for the first piece of food on the table she can find. An orange! Satisfied, the raven-haired woman proceeds to peel the fruit while waiting for a response.
No worries! I'm a bit new to PBP, so I'm kind of learning formatting conventions on the fly; my fault for not spoilering it the first few times. Now I know why!
Happy to see the lass has acknowledged his presence gramlag now can clearly see that she feels like she must act the part of a noble here. "Eyes can watch all they like, my armour is clean and my gear neat, i care not what they think beyond that though your right in some looking down upon some of us."
when she takes notice of his shields Gramlag gets a tad giddy saying "Ive seen no realy action no lass, i patroled with the local militia when the mood took me and i spent time making the armour and shields you see me with today, their quality isnt so great id stamp my name on them and send them to market but they have seen me through a few ordeals and im far more adept with a shield in my hand than a sword id like to think, bloodshed isnt something to do lightly but thieves dont always take nicly to 'stop robbing us' and 'leave now and ill let you live' they tend to react with some aggression when you dont grant them what they demand" recanting the fights that Gramlag has been in he shows that he clearly enjoys the fights but also clearly distastes any time he is forced to kill an opponent.
"my militia commander gave me an invitation to this meeting as a strong arm to aid an expedition if im selected, im curios, if battle is not your forte then i take it you are skilled in other areas? what do you bring to a group if you dont mind me asking lass?" he asked wanting to learn more about this woman as it seems a good way to pass the time before the event begins.
Yanda listens intently while at the same time satiating the rumbling of her stomach. She nods in approval to Gramlag's statement of opinion on bloodshed. What excites him of the expedition, Yandasana is the opposite. Despite suffering from bouts of melancholy, she remains cheerful though. Maybe the dwarf's positive spirit helped her out?
She thinks in contemplation first, then responds, "I am not sure if I will be able to provide any help. My knowledge needs context to be applicable. Same as your knowledge, some people will swing the sword, some will not. I have only heard of the Stolen Lands being dangerous. "
She pauses for a moment to click her mind into the dwarven language. This does not sound like rough dwarven. It is fluent with all the elegance and subtly of a native dwarven speaker.
After responding to the dwarf, she gets caught up on the activity. The large Half-Orc entrance and commotion with the goblin caught her eye. She looked around to see the colorful assortment of people at the table. Throughout all these exchanges, she can not particularly pick out every conversation, but she remains observant. She hopes that Half-Orc doesn't have the intention to strike down the goblin. Having a one-way passage to the Stolen Lands is a punishment in of itself.
Seeing the nobleman is a bit preoccupied, Serafina dips a shallow curtsie to him, then takes her leave of the man's company, grateful for the reprieve. An inquisitor, and a rude one at that! She threads her way through the crowd, her slender figure working to her advantage as she manages to deftly avoid running into anyone.
Her eyes drift to the commotion at a table near the entrance, and her full lips settle into an amused expression. It seemed the carnival was still running full tilt, and had even added a couple of new attractions. She listens to the banter between the goblin, dwarf, a half-orc, and some young man. Spying the holy symbol, she nods to herself. A priest, of course. And apparently an ambitious one, trying to convert the likes of those! She chuckles, seemingly at nothing.
She makes her way over, all the same. Boredom has ever been her bane. Boldly, she takes a seat beside the woman with the startling blue eyes, turning her head to the side to look at her as she sits. "Quite the gathering tonight, isn't it? What do you think of all this?" The tall woman sits up straight, posture perfect. Don't! Don't! Like a beacon, the woman's nose draws her eye, the sorceress noting the bent angle it assumes on the woman's otherwise fair face. The lady didn't seem the sort to brawl, but her nose had been broken, all the same.
To cover, Serafina smiles in a friendly way at the woman, reaching for the first piece of food on the table she can find. An orange! Satisfied, the raven-haired woman proceeds to peel the fruit while waiting for a response.
Yandasana looks at her with a smile, "Lots to think about. Hard to keep up with all the commotion that is going on. A large amount of personalities here. Quite diverse, I would say." She continues politely, "No need to carry a facade with me. You can ask me about my nose. I saw that the man you spoke to earlier angered you. You look charming, dear." Yandasana's compliment was sincere and empathetic. She takes a sip of her drink and sets it down. With the early life that Yandasana had, she had to be perceptive of other people. "But since you asked a question... I might as well respond with a question, how did that man anger you so? My name is Yandasana Fethen." She reachs out her hand for a handshake.
"Serafina Trimble." The sorceress grins widely as she accepts the proffered hand, nodding. "I know what you mean! I can hardly concentrate with all the conversation and movement going on around me." Serafina has the decency to blush slightly at the woman's blunt statements, her grin turning into an embarrassed half-smile as she releases the other woman's hand. "I was more curious than anything else. I would expect the lady over there to be sporting a broken nose. You seem more the bookish type, like me." She lets her dark eyes flit to Erimriel for a moment as she indicates her, before turning her attention back to Yandasana.
"Well, the fellow was quite blunt, which by itself isn't so bad. But he had the nerve to call me...what did he say, a 'Woman of the World'! He might as well call me a whore!" She rolls her eyes, sticking a slice of the peeled orange in her mouth and chewing and swallowing before continuing. "Although with the scant attention I've drawn so far, I wonder if I should have dressed a bit more scandalously. So what draws you hear, Yandasana? Ready to become a worldly woman, like myself?" The dark-haired woman chuckles huskily, pushing her hair out of her face.
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Serafina walks away and Gird snaps out of his reverie, he'd allowed himself to be distracted in that moment by the hubbub at the door.
Ah yes the ladies can't resist my wooing ways, I should probably check out this other Inquisitor of Abadar, get an impression of the competition
Gird is approaching the commotion so that he can get a better look at the half-orc and his keen perception allows him to hear part of the conversation of the two ladies.
Wow.. I made Serafina angry. I better fix this
Gird approaches Serafina and Yandasana and stops a few feet short.
"My Lady Serafina it appears I owe you an apology, I meant no disparagement of your character, I merely meant to point out that I have lead a sheltered life and I said it in a hamfisted way, I hope you'll accept my apology and continue your conversation in peace" Gird gives a short bow.
"Looking et all of this food they have made for us, I think thet we will be waiting a while yet until the doors close for a final time." Her own mention of food brings Erimriel to the realization that her own plate has been all but cleaned of the Swordlords' generosity. She half-stands from her seat and begins piling the plate full anew, first with another generous helping of the succulent pork, a fat knish, and a few olad'ya.
Speaking around a mouth half-stuffed with fritters, Erimriel says, "Most seem like they hev not been a real fight yet. What about the lot of you? Hev you come for first blood, or hev you already tasted conflict?"
Seeing the group around him grow larger makes Ederzand a little nervous. He is definitely not used to being around so many people all vying for chance to shine as it were.
Hearing the Half-Orc Ederzand nods in agreement.
I believe you are correct. We must work to help those that can be redeemed and act swiftly against those that can not.
looking at Snotboogie.
I do believe that you and your friend have been wronged but the good Khargol is correct. You can not try and perform vengeance upon those that have wronged you with out trying and work it out first. But I am sure your friend will be fine.
Turning to see the raven haired beautiful woman walk through the crowd he is struck more by her grace than by her beauty. How do people move so gracefully like that I always feel so clumsy especially in this armor.
He is snapped back at hearing Erimriel speak. Almost blushing at Erimriel's question he blurts his answer out almost without even thinking.
I have had much experience in the way of healing and giving blessing, but have only tested my merit with my sword and shield in the practice ring
Jek Jer looks around. So many tongues. And they are discussing stuff I can't understand.
Responding to Erimriel's question, Morvan said, "I have had only my training in the ways of the Swordlords. Such training, however, is demanding, and I have had my share of injury. I look forward to facing a true test of combat, for it is only through experience my uncle will put me forth to join the ranks of the Swordlords."
Taking a plate of food from a passing servant, Morvan began stripping the meat from a boar haunch, watching the scene with the half-orc, the goblin, and the scion of House Medyved. If that goblin is going on the expedition, I hope someone removes his chains. He's useless like that.
"Eager to test your blade, eh? A good philosophy to hev, I think." Erimriel allows a brief smile as she seems to have found some measure of common ground to discuss with the unusual distribution of the guildhall's occupants. "I hev grown up with many warriors—Gorumites one end all. There was one called Alexov who was a Swordlord I believe. He carried with him a blade much like your own. But his seng with lightning when he swung it. Gods, could thet men drink! Tall end hendsome, too. It was a shame thet he was killed by giants, but they said he hed a good death." She suddenly looks as if she has had an epiphany.
"I see now. . . they hev brought the creatures here so we cen prove ourselves worthy of this expedition! I wonder if we will hev to fight them here in the grend hall or outside in the street?" Erimriel begins sizing up the goblin and the pair of kobolds. She's still not sure what to make of the snake-man with the big pet snake. "They do not seem like much of a chellenge, though. Hev they something stronger chained in the beck? A centaur, perheps?"
She notices the priest's gaze rest on her, and starts to sway her hips a little more while walking. Men were such easily-swayed creatures. A little sashay, a smile, and most were putty in your hands to work with as you saw fit. She lets her lips curl into an inviting smile, her dark eyes resting on the man as she continues. Stop it! Quit drawing attention to yourself! Suddenly, the woman looks away, continuing to her destination beside the other dark-haired woman.
Hearing the nobleman's apology, she looks up to him and nods. "Your apology is accepted, my lord. Perhaps I was wearing my feelings on my sleeve, as some say." Aye, you said it in a hamfisted way. Likely because no one dared teach you the difference. Best learn that now, pretty boy. She continues to look up at him for a couple of breaths, sweeping her hair out of her face with a pale, slender hand, before turning back to Yandasana.
Ederzand notices the dark haired young lady's gait change as she moves towards the group. It seems she may have hurt her hip the way it just started to move out more. Should i offer healing. No if she needs it she will ask.
Turning to Erimriel
By Dawnflower's grace i do not believe they will have us fight any who stand in the hall. I for one will not spill innocent blood and i see nothing wrong anyone here has done.
"It is good to find a kindred spirit amongst all those gathered here." Khargol says with a nod to Ederzand, glancing at all those who have gathered together at this one table now.
"We seem to be gathering quite the crowd to this place. Surely the Swordlords do not intend to send so large a number on this quest. Too large a group would draw too much unwanted attention and invite a concerted effort toward eradication."
"Regardless...it has been my experience that it is easier to relate to others if formal introductions are made. If I am, for whatever reason, not chosen for this expedition, it is my desire to be kept apprised of its status. I am Khargol Uzgurn, follower of Abadar. Make no mistake, though I follow the Master of the First Vault, I am no priest. I am more an...enforcer of Abadar's ideals."
Gromar wanders around the room, quietly taking in each conversation before moving to the next, slowly but surely taking a measure of all those gathered.
Rockne walks briskly down the street. He is only a block away from the guildhall when he notices that he has blood on his knuckles. Again. The halfling stops in his tracks, deep in thought for a moment, before finally just using the inside of his cloak to wipe his hand. Noticing the armorer across the way he heads over in that direction. Barely noticing the shouts from the two riders forced to quickly yank the reigns Rockne walks right up to a shining suit of mail and squints to see his reflection, trying to make sure there is no other blood. Unfortunately, while the armor gleams in the sunlight it is not quite enough to serve as a mirror. With another shrug he heads off to the guildhall hoping for the best.
Of course there had to be guards. Two of 'em too. Got to try and keep it together.... He adjusts the straps holding the oversized sword to his back as he walks up the stairs. At the top he hands his invitation to the guard on his left. Because he draws his sword to the right. The halfling says nothing but looks the guard in the eye, part of his mind hoping to avoid trouble while another part practically daring the guard to say something.
Unaware of the recent business with the kobolds and the goblin, Rockne is surprised as the guard lets him through with nothing but a weary wave of the hand. With a smug look that practically says "yeah, that's right" he strides through the doors and into the hall.
He is glad to see that while the room is getting quite full their hosts are not yet holding court: so teaching those two idiots a lesson had only cost him a few minutes and a new stain on his cloak. The halfling gets himself a drink and slowly walks a circuit around the room with his ears open for any interesting conversations to insert himself into.
Just outside the guildhall a loud exchange of words can be heard between the doormen and a pair of newcomers.
A doorman yelsl, "Stop where you stand beasts!"
It is quickly followed by a deep clear voice which responds even louder back at the doormen "Calm yourselves, look upon our papers. We are emissaries from the House Garess. Yes, we are guests invited to the guildhall. Now excuse us.
Following the first voice is a much harsher and gruff voice, "Yeah, what he said."
The doors open and two stout darkly clothed males enter. "Good day all of the Hall. Let me introduce myself, I am Dagru. To my side is my companion and my brother, Grautak. Now where is the ale and the women?"
Her interest piqued...well, to be fair, it was always piqued, she glances towards the commotion at the door. Her eyes widen slightly with amazement and more than a little mirth at the new arrivals. All we need is a sphinx and a drake and we'll have ourselves a little carnival here. She eyes the pair of hobgoblins as they enter, listening to their calm rebuttal of the entry guards.
At 'Dagru's' introduction and subsequent demand, the sorceress first grins a tight-lipped smile, trying to hide her amusement behind a well-placed hand. Her smile grows, however, ivory-colored teeth showing as her cheeks flush. A throaty chuckle builds up and can be heard by those close to her. She can help it no longer. "The ale is all around you, good sir. But I believe the establishment you are looking for is across town, in the more run-down areas. Here there be more swords than sheathes." She grins widely, dark eyes fairly alight with mischief.
Grautak gives the human woman an appraising eye and saunters up to her table.
"Yes, you are right. There are more swords here than sheathes, but the sheathe my sword is looking for appears to be here," he says with a leering grin and sits at Serafina's table.
Seeing another pair of creatures step into the room, Erimriel is convinced of her theory. Although they do seem a bit well spoken, it is likely they will be forced to endure more than tests of strength in the southern lands. Perhaps some of these creatures were here to test their wits and cunning as well? Ah! Thet explains the others, then.
"How innocent cen they be? I hev heard stories of these creatures, end they always despoil end burn all in their peth. It is very strange thet they allow them to roam the hall freely and sup with those they intend to gether for the expedition, though. Peh! This makes my head hurt. We must drink to fix this." Erimriel rises from her seat in a clamber, returning moments later with an enormous stein and bottle gripped firmly in one hand while her other arm wraps securely around a pony keg. She slams the latter down on the table with a loud thud! that rattles all of the dinnerware arrayed thereon. She places the bottle of vodka beside the keg and then fills the stein until the cream colored head begins rolling down onto the table. With a proud grin, she calls out, ""
Awaiting no response, Erimriel swallows a gulp from the beer filled stein and places it on the table. She unstoppers the bottle of vodka, giving it a brief sniff and wince before pouring some into the stein.
Khargol considers the drinking game for a moment, but then stops himself from accepting. One or two would be fine, but if the goal of the game was to see just how sot drunk one could get before passing out, it wasn't his type of game. Getting that inebriated left too much chance of one failing to be in control of oneself and that he could not abide.
Morvan looked over at the commotion at the door as the two hobgoblins storm into the hall. By the First Sword, a pair of hobgoblins now, and claiming to be from House Garess? The Swordlords cannot have intended for them to be sent by Garess. Surely they must have stolen the invite or something. As Erimriel comes back and calls out the drinking game, he said, "Enjoyable as I am sure it will be, if we are to test our mettle to prove ourselves, it would be best to keep our wits about us. Therefore, I must decline in participating in the game. Perhaps in celebration of our selection to the expedition."
Ewwww!! The sorceress' big mouth always got her into trouble when she tried to improvise, in this case to be funny. All this talk of swords and sheathes, and now the brute was sitting near her with that despicable look on his face. Serafina gives it a moment's thought, then quickly comes to the usual decision she makes: casting her troubles on someone else.
She continues to chuckle, turning to Yandasana, "Did you hear that? You have an admirer!"