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Ye be needin' ta control de impulses or, liken wit yer bodily functions, ye'll be findin' yerself in a load o' sh!t! Ye best be focusin' on controllin' dem bowels o' yers and leavin' the tough talk ta those what be knowin' it.
*Dravite double moves to A13, getting closer to the gobbos and attempting to assist the dog in combat.*
Hey Skidmark! Keep a eye ta de door, dinnae be lettin' any git by ye!
So, ye thinkin' ye might be wantin' ta get in on de fight 'ere, Skidmark? I can be handlin' de slack if'n ye be needin' time to change yer undies.
Dravite steps to B23 and attacks the gobbo in C22 -1d20+7=19 to hit, 1d12+5=17 damage!
Guess I be needin' ta pick up de slack agin, eh Hudak?! FEEL THE HATRED OF ME HOOK, GOBBO-SCUM!
Initiative=20.
Dernit, Hudak, They jus' be gobbos! No need ta be crappin' youself over dem!
I say we be headin' inta da furnace area, trough de double doors!
Failed listen.
Derned crowd needs to be leavin' so we can be thinkin' straight. Shove off, people! Ye dinnae wanna be a casualty! Nuttin' ta be seein' here!
And dat dere plan is fine wit me! Just be pointin' me ta any danger an' I be ready ta be facin' it.
I could be standin' to rip sumfin up in Gorum's great name if'n ye be wantin' someone ta be takin' on de job o' Gorum's Blessing. So I wouldnae mind to be having 'is blessin' on me hook.
Well, we be visitin' so lets jus' go trough dat door dere. *Pulls out the vicious hook stapped across his back* Let's be fer hopin' nobody be actin' bad in dere or we may be needin' ta "correct" dem. Hehe.
I bin wantin' fer to check oot the Glassworks anywho. Heared dey be runnin' a fair ta great shop dere. Ye gots Dravite on de case!
Congrats, boyyo! Ye managed ta down a glass o' slimey, disgusting, oozing sludge o' fish slime wit oot barfin'! Ye do be lookin' a wee bit green in de gills though....
The Dwarf has a brain. No way was he touching that stuff, he was just cheering on Hudak.
Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!!! Heh-hee!! Go Hudak!
For those who speak giant-
Larken wrote: ..... hoping that Dravite will step in with something inappropriate.
So dat dere dead pup o' yers, did ye 'ave it long? Was da beastie trained to do 'is duty outside? Sure were a big'un, bet dat elephant shovel woulda come in a bit 'andy if'n it weren't! Hee-heh!
Made Sense motive for second one.
In dwarven: Damned humans! Can't even understand simple common-speak! Just gonna nod his freakin' head with that stupid vapid look on his face!
In "common": Barmaid! I be needin' me a Tankard o' yer finest brew!
Failed sense motive.
Dravite butts into the conversation--
Bah! Dey be stinkin' gobbos! Right der be all de reason ye be needin' as fer why we be takin' der lives and pertectin' yours! Jus' be's a shame as we were a wee late fer to save yer dog. Lookt ta be ofa fine pedigree wit more 'eart den most o' de rest in town here! He be fightin' strong til the gobbos got 'im. Poor pooch.
6 charisma in action again.
failed knowledge check.
Dis rock dinnae seem ta be of Dwarven make but it seems ta be fairly sturdy.
I be thinkin' we may be to wantin' ta decide not ta be tryin' da cliffs today. Thar be a bit o' time involved in dis mission an we gots us a dinna' date wit Mr. Deaddog.
Maybe we shoul' be ta arskin' aboot town ta be findin' oot more o' whats on aboot the purple-eyed chick an' da farmboy what was givin' it to her.
We can be ta climbin' on de morrow wit a full-day's light.
I'm for that, also.
Maybe arskin' aboot de town is the anser, we can be findin' oot a bit more on all de tings we be wantin' ta know like aboot da girlie and the chump what was stickin' it to 'er and aboot dis "Chopper" feller.
We be jus' sittin' 'ere flappin' jaws, but wat we be needin' to be doin' is pick a path an' be followin' it. Pick an' let's be on!
Low Charisma in action!
I assume that the outside group had arrived at the Inn and are partaking of the conversation?
Aye, that be a fine ideer. Was der any tracks aroun' the grave? I could be tryin' ta track de graverobber back from whence 'e came.
*grumbling under his breath* Damn elves ne'er seem ta be smart enough ta be "translatin'" a dialect.......must be da narrow eyes dat be limitin' der focus.....
Dravite has decided to tag along with Alwyn and Elisile, not that he can be much assistance but he thinks maybe the proximity with them will help him get to know them.......
*To Elisile and Alwyn* Hey, so where we be headin' t'day? By Gorum, I be needin' ta get sum air! Da large baldie dinnae seem ta wantin' ta leave da bar! Hee-heh...
I be tall, fer a dwarf! An' yeah, I be perferin' da comp'ny o' females, when 'tis comp'ny I be lookin' fer!
Ye' be needin' to bathe or anytin' wit a nose will be ta trackin' ye.
T'wer a good night had by all!
Ack, Dat Lo'J! *points to random areas of Lo'j's person* Ye seem to 'ave a bit 'o skank on ye! An' som' dog hair.....musta been one hell o' a night! Hee-hhaa!
Aauck! Ye' gots barley on de brain, longshanks! Ye must've did more damage to yer already empty skull from gettin' into yer cups las' night, lad.
I was ta thinkin' I was tellin' dorkus that, what'r yer ears stuffed wit warm, soggy barley, or wern't ye listenin' ta what I been tellin' ye?
Do nay be makin' me go all Fourth Edition on ye! We all be knowin' 'ow dat went las' time.
Ack! Barley an' hot milk! I'll be remembrin to stay away from dat concoction, seems ta be making yer hair fall out an' a bit o' de ol' brain wit' it!
Dravite shovels another huge mouthful of runny eggs and pickled, fried sausage patties into his mouth.
Fin'ly made it down 'ere, eh Hudak?! Been wondrin' when ye be gettin' oot o de pallet. Heh, ye be handlin' yer drink good fer a human! Come on over, de eggs be a bit on de runny side, but de pickled fried pork patties be jus' as good as me own mum made, rest her soul and may Cayden Cailen be guiding her step.
An' it be a Metal tune at heart! I rock!
as the song ends, Dravite smiles slightly, which turns to a light giggle, then to the loudest, deepest gut-laugh that most in town have ever heard. His laughter rumbles through the place for a full minute before he can control himself and start toward the Lyricist.
"Sir, dat be da best music I been hearin' in years! Me pa would think it grand that 'is little boy be gettin' his own tune! By Gorum, I ne'er woulda thunk that a dwarven tune played on a flute would sound so good!" Dravite slaps the skald on the back, in the hearty manner that dwarves do, dislodging anything that might be in his lungs. "Yer own exploits were none to shabby yerself, lad. Ye kept us goin' and gived us focus in de battle, and ye earned me respect wit dat dere whistle. I will be proud ta introduce ye to any dwarves we be meetin' as a dwarf-brother and me own friend! BARKEEP!! A round for dis man-dwarf, 'is throat must be parched!"
To Lo'J- Hey feller, so how be yer pup? Poor fella was a brave un, hope 'e be doin' alright. What be da pooch's name? I takim fer a pet as ye dinnae look ta be a druid or one o' nature's warrior like meself, ye got too much ore on yer frame fer dat. I be thinkin' on da battle and me thinkin' be dat de gobbos are feared o' dogs. Dey seemed ta be testin' oot der nerves by tryin' to kill all dem what were in town. I heard dat dey hated dogs but me thinkin' be dat fear is the motive.
Hey Hudak, check dis out. Da man listens in on me conversations yet he cannae be bothered to help out a bleedin' companion. 'Ad to ave some damned unknown acolyte take da hurtin' off, an now he wans to ear what I gots to be sayin'.
I be needin' anudder drink, and a bit o' bedder comp'ny. Ye be welcome to sip a few more cups wit me, Hudak, whence yer "load" be lightened. *Grabs his pint and heads to the other end of the bar, hailing a barmaid to bring him another round*
Gather Info=15
Hey Hudak, ere! Ave anudder pint! Lookie dis is what I bean earin'. There be quite a bit o bad blood 'tween Sheriff Hemlock and his brudder, Garridan Viskalai. Dis be 'cause Garridan sees Belor as havin' abandoned da Shoanti ways, even ta da extent of translating 'is own surname into its Chelaxian version. And I also heared dis, da grave of de previous high priest, Tobyn, was'd desecrated by some gobbos. His parts was dugged up and carried away by da lil' scum. He died in a fire, 'long wit 'is daughter, what destroyed da original temple long bout 5 yearn ago.
What be ye lookin' at? Oh! She be a tad thin forn me tastes but still quite da looker. Lemme tell ye 'bout da time I wooed dis beauty what owned a bar.....*drifts into a meaningless tale of scandel and dwarf loving, mixed with more drinking than most think possible*
I'll be ta joinin' ya, Hudak. I better pick up some Curative potions, dem others sure be stingy wit' helpin' a fellow.
Bah! De only danger ye be presentin' be to me sensitive nose, wit' dat odor ye call friend, and to me eyes, what wit da signal flare ye be givin' offn dat cavernous cranium ye be callin a head.
Don' know bout no Bardic Clerics of which ye be speakin', but I can attest to ye hittin' hard. Yer stank was what knocked me senseless in battle, not the gobbo's blade!
Aye, Hudak, of that ye speak truly! I be needin' a tankard an some rest. Hudak, lets check de rooms and toss a few pints back. The stink of gobbo be on me an' I be wishin' to wash it off also so 'eres to hopin' that der inn has a couple o' tubs! We should get da rooms takin' care of, flop about a bit in some soapy water and spend the evenin' washin' the stench of battledust an' gobbo blood from our throats. Firs' round be on me!
Somebody needs to be keepin' im oot of danger...
Why, da slack I be expectin', like the firs battle. Ya know, where I practically had to kill meself to pull yer end o' de work! Guess ye were too busy buffing yer dome to get into the fray. Dome-buffer! Hee-heh!
Ye 'ave nothin' to fear, Mayor, I take my duties seriously, and honor my word. I will do my best.
Hopefully tis enuff to cover Hudak's slack.....
Aye, ye be speakin' o' an ancient time. A time when dwarven women had beards. Tis a time referred to as "Second Edition". Tis good to be in de 3rd age, where the dwarven women's chins go hairless!
I've seen lots o' womenfolk toss der guts after a fight but never a hairless one!
I almos' mistook ye fer one o' dem gobbo-dogs last battle, 'ceptin that their breath be fresher.....
Better give dat one the full 5, mayor. He be needin' a new buffin' rag and some polish for 'is great, empty dome. Twould hate to see that thing all scuffed and dirty.....
Heathansson wrote: I was throwing up! Damn delayed adrenaline surge that makes me icy cool in a fight, and useless afterward!!! So ye be thinkin' ya were useful in da battle?
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