Nice going Dorvren!
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We could try to find another DM.
Yeah not sure, hopefully he just got busy?
Engir stands stooping in the small hut, his arms crossed over his chest. "Methinks we should get on with murder-make of the goblins, it will be nightfall soon, and bogs can be of uneven footing."
I will wear it with pride!
I have no problem with Ikoma having the cloak.
Engir looks down at the halfling with his arms crossed as he hears his tale. "Well then it does seem something foul is going on in this bog. I am ready to begin the murder-make and be done with these foul creatures."
As door bursts into splinters, Engir prepares to swing his axe at the hidden foe, only to see a halfling bound on the floor. "It seems the fates have intervened on your behalf little one." Engir scoops up the halfling in one hand (not bothering to untie him) and presents him to the party. "I believe this is the actual little one we have come to find."
"Aye, perhaps we should see what trickery is being played out behind the door." Engir moves to the door, readies his axe, then kicks open the door.
Engir kicks over the dead creature with his heavy boot, "Looks like this demon did not take to my axe's smile, his thread now cut." "Ikoma, are you seriously wounded?" Engir then turns to the direction of noise, gripping his greataxe tightly ready to pounce on any more assailants.
I knew there was something rotten in the hut! :)
"By the first world what be this foul demon?" Seeing the creature rush and grapple Ikoma, Engir swing his axe with the a vicious overhand chop at the creature.
Perception:
Engir studies the man and and then looks back at the snake door tightening his grip on his great axe, his corded muscles tightening. "This little one seems to be in the throws of the fever-make or some witch has cast her gaze upon him, we should be wary."
Engir steps into the little hovel. He remains standing, well more stooped over in the cramped space. He is unable to sit in the small sized furniture. "Little one of the bog, where are the goblins with the dragon-smoke, we are here for the murder-make."
After traveling a few miles through the bug infested bog, Engir points out the cabin in the clearing up the trail. "Hmm I believe we have found our warden of the bog, perhaps he can tell us where the dragon-smoke goblins are."[/b]
Dice Rolls!:
Engir looks to the sky looking at the sun, he holds his meaty fist over his eyes to shield them from the glaring light. "The is the right direction," as Engir points to the path in the bog.
Engir hops over the side of the wagon. He stretches a bit, then arms himself with his Great Axe. He looks back at the Chester, "Many thanks for the ride old one." "Now let us find this hermit who lives in the fen."
Engir finishes his meal and finishes the last bit of his mead. He then looks over to Ameiko, "I not be needing a refill of my mug, today I go to the murder-make of the goblins who steal dragon-smoke." He then hoists his axe over his shoulder and steps out to the waiting wagon. He critically looks over the rickety wagon. "You old man who drives to the bog, I am called Wolfeye." He then jumps into the wagon and kicks a few items to the side to make room to sit.
Engir awakes with a hammering pain in his skull. His eyes are bloodshot and his mouth is dry like a man who has been wondering in the desert. He rises out of bed and pulls together his wild mane and ties it back to keep it out of his face for the fight surely to come this day. He dresses in his scale mail and arms himself with his weapons. He descends the stairs to the taproom and throws himself into a seat at a table. He calls out gruffly, "Ameiko, eggs, bacon and mead." "A warrior needs his strength on the day of the murder-make."
"I will lend my axe to this journey, be it goblins or this monster, my axe cares not." Engir then looks at everybody gathered, "Come let us forge our oath-make with a drink."
Engir listens to Sandru's tale, "Sound like this beast you speak of is more of an old crone's hearth tale to scare children." He then adds,"I do hope indeed this beast be real, for it sounds like it may be a worthy foe to meet my axe-smile."
Engir looks up from his now emptied mug to Sandru, "Sandru, I'm not interested in caravan work." "I have found a new job I am quite good at drink-make." "Oh and apparently I have also accepted a job with these mainlanders to cut the cords of goblins who have stolen dragon-smoke."
"Sure let us start the murder-make on the morn then, for now another round of ales to quench the thirst." He then looks at Emerald,"I care not where hole dwellers are, be they cower in the holes or stand to get their cords cut by blades forged in fire of smiths."
Engir looks to Alora,"Aye purple haired one of the smallfolk, I distrust the wyrd-make, it often brings bad omens that strikes out of the heavens upon us like a hammer blow." "Our Gothi of Gorum in our lands however understand the dangers of the wyrd-make, and use the wyrd with caution." And then adds,"I hope you do to smallfolk." Engir downs another ale, "so then let us find these goblins who hide in holes and begin the murder-make."
Engir grabs the offered mug from Dorvern, "many thanks mainlander, surely this will help cool me off." Engir downs the mug with relish. "Murder-make on goblins is it?" "Hardly worth the murder-make, but coin is coin."
Engir lifts his head in anticipation of free drinks on Ameiko. As Ameiko begins setting down the drinks, Engir rudely snatches one, "Hrmm, 'bout time for some ale, my thirst was almost unbearable in these warm lands." Engir then takes a long pull from his mug, "Why you mainlanders live in this heat infested land are beyond me." "Besides it makes you all weak and decadent, too reliant on the wyrd-make. "Not on the blade-make."
Awesome! The wait is over.
Well met all. Looks like a great group! Engir is ready to belly up to the bar, course that is what is main occupation is these days, finding the bottom of his mug. @DM Singer, my character sheet is up to date and ready for review. |
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