Thanks Lagash. Yeah I got a wicked fever, sore throat, cough, and chills. My wife has got it too :( We're pretty miserable right now. Thanks for asking buddy :)
Jeggrim crosses his arms over his burly, bare, tattooed chest. He listens intently to Lagash's statements, honestly surprised by his good tact hmmmm glad I gave the 'ol half-breed half a chance! He may wear the skin 'o an orc but he sure don't act like one! I'm impressed...
Following Lagash's lead, I'm not sure what ye're about, but I noticed the look in yer eyes. The look 'o a man wit a bit 'o business to tend too. The name's Jeggrim, I ain't have a proper surname but folks round here call me Shatterbones, and I'm bettin ye're the type smart enough to guess why Jeggrim smiles a massive toothy grin Mayhaps that we can sit with ye and find out what a cloaked stranger such as yerself is all about.
Feeling like he did pretty well there, Jegg gives a satisfied "humph" hoping that he followed Lagash's lead well enough [Jegg has a low charisma and struggles with "formal" introductions as well as being "appropriate." Most times he is crass, crude, and most importantly just says it like it is with no tact what so ever.
Finally gettin somewhere at least
|Damaran Al' Tugari|
Damaran finally takes the time to survey his surroundings while he waits for the barkeep to bring him his drink. Here now what's this all about spotting the queer group surrounding the cloaked fellow. What in all the hells are dwarves doing chumming around with an orc? He loosens his sword in its scabbard and unbuckles a large pouch on his hip. Better safe than sorry... Looks like they may be looking for trouble.
Finishing his blues jam Fulito checks his hat only to find the same piece of lint he started with.
I have got to find a more responsive crowd he mutters to himself
He soon takes note of all the burly type fellows confronting the man in the red cloak.
now this is interesting indeed
Fulito casts a quick spell to clean the dirt and trash remains from his hat. put it back on his head. He tucks his harmonica back into his pocket pulls out a book and inkpen. flips it open and begins writeing taking notes of the events as they transpire.
should this turn out bad for those involved I want to remember them as they used to be. and if all goes well then this will make a wonderful story.
a million different thoughts flood his head as he jots down the notes of the conversation. moving closer if need be to hear all that is transpiring.
|Damaran Al' Tugari|
Damaran spots the little man writing in his book. HA! What an odd place I have find myself in he says to no one in particular. If he catches the fellow eye he winks and flips him a silver coin. Make me look good!
@Lagash & the dwarves: I don't mean any harm or intend any trouble lol Damaran is precocious.
Jutmon looks up from the book he has been deeply engrossed in. His mug of ale long since empty.
Gill! Another ale when you get the chance.
He looks around the smoky room. Quite the turnout tonight. He comments when the barkeep finally comes around.
So, I mentioned that the site ate my whole background. So I redid it and it's totally different. And shorter. But changing the background, also caused me to change the stat-block. I still want to pursue the EK PRC, but I'm going with wizard at 1st level. It's better. Got rid of the armor and with it, the encumbrance problem.
Anyway the character is mostly complete, still have to post up something about personality, and appearance, but the crunch and background are finalized.
Tagrum, a messy dwarf with tangled hair, trots hastily into the bar. A battleaxe is tied across his back and his simple travel cloths are dirty with mud and sweat. The dwarf is no more than a few feet inside when a wolf runs in after him. Get back, Tagrum cries trying to push the wolf outside. The wolf backs down but looks pitifully up at Tagrum. Fine, he says, but be good.
Tagrum takes a cursory glance around the room. Well, this looks like a jolly place to find work, and maybe get a drink or two.
Tagrum moves over to the bar with the wolf at his heels and takes a seat. Any ale will do, he says gruffly.
Sorry if this is a little late. The background and crunch are all in the alias.
Staryth is currently taking it easy, he nodded to Damaran, "It's odd, alright."
Then he sees another dwarf, Tagrum,
Ok first off my appologies, it's been a 14 hour work day for me and though I did manage to read your posts, I had little time to reply to them in kind. I will try to play catch up all in one post. Hopefully I don't miss anyone.
Gill produces another round of drinks for all that asked for one and as he does so he describes the games of chance mentioned earlier.
Guzzleslop is a game for only the tough and hardy. I give ye a jug o my spoiled brew and ye has to the count of 60 to drink it down without tossing your dinner so to speak. If'n you can manage to get the whole jug down in under the count I will give you one dose of my own brew. The rest o you are more n welcome to make bets with each other on success or failure. Skill challenge where you must make 3 consecutive fort saves at dc 12. If you fail one it means you've gagged and or choked and not managed to get it down. If you do succeed, you get one dose of Gill's finest. Effectively this is a dose of Enhance Water potion.
Juggling knives is basically that. I go gets me sharpest knives from the kitchen and you gots to 'juggle' them. So you takes a swig o my own special brew (fort save dc 12 or lose 2 dex) and then you toss the knife high in the air and catch it on the way down (dex check dc 12). If'n you don't drop the knife or cut yourself you win the prize. So basically you need to make the fort save or lose some dexterity when you do the dex check. If you are successful 3 times in 4 you win 1 potion of cure light wounds.
Tossin the bones is easy. Place yer bets over, on, or under the number 7 and then toss the die. If you roll what you bet you double your money. So lets say I bet 1 SP on 'under' and then toss these die.
2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6
Since I bet under and rolled under I'd win double my money back
Over the course of the evening Gill regales you of the story of the trade dispute. Basically the local traders guild here in Andoran is trying to steal port trade from a nearby port town called Augustana. They are offering financial incentives for inland businesses to ship their trade through Almas instead and over the last decade Augustana has taken a considerable hit. Augustana has hired road agents to disrupt the flow of goods in and out of Almas in an effort to 'encourage' trade through Augustana instead. Almas has retaliated by doing the same. The roads are kind of chaos at the moment and trade has kind of ground to a stop. At any given time, trade caravans are being attacked by agents out of Augustana, Almas, or sometimes even both at the same time. There has been a few reports of agents working for neither side just jumping in and taking advantage. So now the only trade goods that move in and around the area are moved by smugglers.
Staryth, did you not get the implied invitation to join me and Lagash in speaking with the man in the red cloak? Sorry if I didn't make that clear enough...anyways, since at this point my character is tied up waiting for DM response, I'm out for the night. Going to try and sleep off this crud. G'nite all and thanks for another fun day of RPing.
Jeggrim sees the new dwarf with wolf in tow enter the tavern. Another kinsmen? He thinks in disbelief By Torag's beard today just gets more interestin'! And look at his pet! He has the look 'o a wild one too!
As for the red cloaked man. I will try to keep it brief. Those of you who did know arcana checks and such realize that he is casting spells like "detect evil", "detect lies", and so on to try to get a feel for your character.
Attempts to talk with him for the moment are met with polite small talk but little else in the way of his business here in the tavern. He even goes so far as to buy the house a round of drinks ... and not the cheap stuff either. He is obviously a man of means.
For the time being, that is all you are able to get out of him.
Gill smiles at Gilthanis as he chugs down the nearly toxic brew of "Gill's famous moonshine". Immediately you start to feel light headed and to those watching the elf you see he is noticeably wobbly.
Gill hands him the 4 sharp knives and Gilthanis moves over to the designated safety area and starts to juggle. The knives are indeed incredibly sharp and as they come down Gilthanis wobbles a bit and loses his concentration. Each of the 4 knives in turn comes slicing down and the elf fails to catch them safely. He is literally cut to ribbons and blood is pouring from his hands, thighs, and forearms.
4d2 ⇒ (2, 2, 1, 1) = 6 points of damage.
My Gods boy! yells Gill That was horrendous! Ye'd be best served if ye gave up on the juggling! Nay, I forbid you to juggle. Aint never had no on kill themselves before and I won't start tonight.
Despite your losing the skill challenge, Gill gives you the healing potion anyways to stop you from bleeding all over the bar.
Gilthanis, I don't know what was funnier, your rolls or your reaction to them. 8)
Ah, I did miss that Jegg, sorry. Let's just assume Staryth politely declined.
Staryth finds the news on this Almas/Augustina situation intriguing. he's not sure who's in the right though.
"I'll give this 'Guzzleslop' a shot... "
He takes the jug and tries to down it...
Fort save 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16 +2 if this counts as poison
Fort save 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13 +2 if this counts as poison
Fort save 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23 +2 if this counts as poison
He slams it down and says simply as he wipes his beard, "Spoiled? mmmph. Dwarven children down worse than that for fun." he shrugs.
Targum watches Gilthanis try the to toss the knives. Hey elf, give me a try at those knives!
Targum grabs the knives and takes a large swig of the special brew.
Fort Save 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
This special brew tastes a bit watered down to me! Targum laughs.
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Targum looks embarrassed. I guess that's harder than I thought, he mumbles.
@Staryth its not poison, its just a spoiled batch of his homebrew ale that tastes nasty but wont hurt you.
Gill looks at Staryth and says That was impressive indeed. I don't even drink that crap! He hands Staryth the potion.
As Tagrum takes up the knives, Gill looks concerned. He says Alright lad now don't go cutting yourself to bits like the last one alright?
When it is over he says A fine try. 1 shy of a win!
alright folks, I'm off to bed. I've got another even longer work day ahead of me tomorrow. 7 am to midnight!! Egads I might need some of Gill's brew when I get home. Remember, the cutoff for character submissions will be 4:00 Pacific and I will post the results Saturday. Feel free to have some fun with the skill challenges and don't be afraid to heap praise or scorn on the others misadventures.
Gill looks at Staryth and says That was impressive indeed. I don't even drink that crap! He hands Staryth the potion
Staryth takes Gil's finest, and he likes the feel of it. "I think I'll save this to celebrate my employment when it happens. Thank you, Gill. You're a sporting fellow."
After the small talk with the man in red, Jeggrim returns to the bar to take part in the festivities.
"Easy there, stringbean. I admire your attempt, but best leave hard drinking to folks that can grow a beard."
Bwahahaha! Ain't that right Staryth? And ye know what they say about that don't ye? If yer father don't have a beard, then ye've got yerself two mums! Jeggrim slaps Staryth on his back as he finishes his poke at the elf, wiping tears from his eyes he continues Gill ye crusty bastud let 'ol Jegg have a try at this!
Jegg grabs the drink and pounds it down, scooping up the knives and giving it a go, loudly singing as he does so.
Fort Save1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Reflex Saves1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Jeggrim pounds down the brew without even flinching, then expertly juggles the knives, bouncing on one foot, and bellowing loudly, poking fun at the elf the whole time; I thought ye fairy folk were all fingers and nimbleness, bouncing through the forest like a bunch 'o little girls on their first day 'o school! And just in case yer wonderin, this is how a man wit a proper beard does it!!! After completing the challenge, Jeggrim slams the knives down on the bar top, pumping his fists in victory.
"Pleased to meet you Leanen, honey. I'm Marianne, Marianne Benedict, cleric of Shelyn. Mind if I ask what brings you to Andoran? Its just we don't see many elves and you are so darned mysterious, Brother Borlan says elven art is wonderous, but I've never really seen any."
" Oh, a lover of art? It just so happens that I dabble in the field, though I'm afraid my work would fall short of your expectations" Leanen says, accepting his drink from Gil, "I do faces mostly and then only sketches"
Leanen sits back as the other adventurers try their hand at Gil's games, Carefully observing them and trying to take mental note how their techniques succeeded or failed.
Jutmon listens to Gill, when he explains the issue between Augustana and Almas.
Then he ads his own comments:
Andoran is the beacon of light for the whole, dark world, yet her merchants squabble amongst themselves like petty thieves.
Almas and Augustana would be best served by working together. They both have strengths and weaknesses. If they could only cooperate then Greater Andoran would win. If they do not, then the darkness will prevail.
Jutmon gives Gronk a meaningful look as he says this last. The wizard had been paying at least a little bit of attention to the happenings in the bar around him, even if his nose was buried in the spellbook.
Everything complete and ready for inspection, DM Krallek!
After some strategizing he walk up to Gill "Would you mind if I put some theories to the test?" he inquires, taking the knives and special brew from him.
"The secret, I believe, is speed for this task" Leanen holds his nose and throws back his head downing the brew as quickly as possible.
Fort Save 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
"And if I throw them like so.."
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Leanen moves carefully but precisely allowing the knife to fall into his hands "Yes I thought so".
After exchanging brief pleasentries with the man in red, and understanding that nothing more will be gleaned out of him, Lagash returns to the bar. When confronted with the drinking challenge, he cannot help but frown at the suggestion.
Now, now, boys and girls. Let's drink and enjoy the company of each other but please, I do not want to see spoiled drinks being tossed around - even WORSE, being drank! - He actually seems to be upset at this situation...
Heck Gil! I will pay you NOT to serve spoiled drinks to anyone - even better, I will pay rounds of decent ale to all around if needed, so that no one drinks from that apalling beverage - I'm no obsessed zealot, but drinking tainted beverages is an offense to the Gods, by Cailean! - he adds in, as he toys with the mug symbol pendant around his neck.
|Damaran Al' Tugari|
The call to gamble is too much for Damaran. He looks at the spectacles like a child in a toy shop. Guzzleslop it is! He grabs the swill and begins to fire it down.
Fort:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27+4 Calculated in for Iron Liver trait
Fort:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23+4 Calculated in for Iron Liver trait
Fort:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25+4 Calculated in for Iron Liver trait
AAAHH, that'll put hair on your chin he says looking at the dwarf who had been chiding the elf.
I will put 10 gold down that the dice will roll high! The man yells to anyone who will listen. Finding that no one cares makes no difference to him as he hoots and hollers.
Whooo! Come on you old bones! He pounds down another drink and lets fly.
2d6 ⇒ (2, 6) = 8
WHAhahahaha! Wooo! The man is clearly starting to get out of hand.
Can we go again? He says near to trembling with excitment.
NO! The knives! he says I will toss knives. Damaran grabs greedily at the next concoction and drains it. He whirls the knives into the air and catches them nimbly. The look of surprise can be seen on his face.
Fort:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Dex:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Dex:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Dex:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
This is not going to go well for me if I am picked. I seemed to have used up all the favor of the dice gods...
that conversation was less than enthusiastic fulito seems disappointed at the boring outcome of that confrontation with the red cloaked man.
but soon the wave of gambling and drinks issues forth and Fulito can't help but notice the man that had given him the silver coin engaging in some games of chance.
what an inspiring show of skill the little halfling comments and quickly jots the experience in his journal.
after he has completed his show of skill
Pardon me but you had asked that I make you look good which, I might add, is entirely unnecessary you have done outstanding on your own, of course a little embeleshment wouldn't hurt.
he puases a mere second to catch his breath. Fulito Ferrywarden bard of the River Kingdoms at your service. and who might you be so that my story, once published, may regal the true tales of your deeds that you name may forever go down in halfling history
Gronk watches the antics with a bemused air. With a sigh and slow shake of his head, he waits for the man in read to say something meaningful.
Yes the end is coming so we must live in the now. And yes, fun for selfs is ok if not hurt others. Not as good as make now better for all, but not bad. Me just not ken ta wail, flail, cutt hands, and get sick is fun for selfs. Oddness...
|Damaran Al' Tugari|
Well met friend Damaran sputters in between gulps of ale. I'll wager my earnings I can't do that again! Anyone care to take that bet? he laughs heartily. Your a musician right? Play us a lively tune to dance to! Damaran rapidly changes the subject while shoveling coins into the halflings hands without care.
Fulito you get
1d20 ⇒ 8gp!
Marianne watches the festivities, her throaty laugh ringing out as the menfolk make fools of themselves. Well making a fool of yourself is usually pretty darn fun in my experience, let's see if I can show them what women are made of.
"Right pass me those knives hon! Dear Shelyn, this smells awful Gill. Well, here goes nothing!" She says taking a swig and setting the mug down on the bar,
Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
"Oh gods, why do people drink this even unspoiled, gah. I think my liver just committed suicide," she maanges, giving the knives a dubious look and picking them up with shaking hands as she steps back into space,
Dex: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
"Hmm, ouch. Maybe if I put a bit of spin on it next time?"
Dex: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
"Son of a hogfish! I'm getting at least one!"
Dex: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
"Haha! And again..."
Dex: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
"Mermaid mammaries! You mother mangling git."
Marianne trying to curse sounds deeply unnatural, something about her voice makes it seem curiously childish when she trie sto swear.
Stamping a foot in tipsy petulance she steps back up to the bar, still covered in blood, and grabs the tankard of spoiled ale tossing it back with a horrified expression...
Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
The first gulp goes down fine, and then her cheeks bulge and she sprays the remainder back into the tankard, looking sickened and flushing scarlet.
"I knew there was a reason I didn't drink ale," she manages weakly wiping her mouth before half collapsing ont a barstool.
Lol, what rolls!
To add a bit of diversity to the mix, I'm going to build an Elf Wizard. Yeah I know: Super original! Think I'll aim for (Lore)master/blaster
4d6 ⇒ (3, 5, 6, 6) = 20 = 17
4d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 6, 6) = 23 = 18
4d6 ⇒ (2, 1, 1, 3) = 7 = 6
4d6 ⇒ (4, 6, 5, 1) = 16 = 15
4d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 6, 6) = 17 = 16
4d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 3, 4) = 11 = 10
4d6 ⇒ (4, 2, 3, 5) = 14 = 12
4d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 2, 1) = 6 = 5
18, 17, 16, 15, 12, 10
"I should bloody well hope not! Have you tried rum Staryth? I know you big gruff manly types can't really drink it for fear of loosing your machismo, but honestly a splash of rum with some pineapple juice is sooo much nicer - my friend Colwin used to magic it cold to, lovely! Blah, when am I going to stop tasting it!" Marianne responds, pulling a face and dipping her tongue into her red wine in an attempt to remove the vileness from her taste buds.