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The pool of magic grease appeared to have soiled the finerys of the Rouge Ladies' parlour, but the green ooze shimmered and smoked, and left no trace as it soon dissapated.
Coco then wasted no time bounding in to the room and adressing the cowering wretch within. "Get out from behind the desk you little creep!" There was a small struggle then out she marched with a short gnome with greasy black hair and dark sunglasses, who whimpered piteously as Coco bent his right arm around his back and pulled hard his left ear.
She threw him to the floor in the main lounge and he slipped and fell into the gore and wreckage of his late comrades' corpses.
Coco rolls for Intimidate! 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
"Keen bro, magic ring!" Puku takes the ring of protection and clambers up out of the hole, prefering the moonlit countryside to the stuffy claustrophobia of Nana's cellar.
Surreptitiously Eustace produced his fine ivory smoking pipe from within the folds of his sleeve. He put the pipe to his lips and with a click of his fingers he had a flame with which to smoke. He held Ko's gaze for a few moments then exhaled a collosol blue cloud.
The dandy Manorc then prestidigitated the rolling cloud into the shape of a Moa and jockey, and with a profane utterance cast ghostsound .
"...and its Ko on his golden Moa, racing through the checkered flag to become Woodenheads choicest dude ever! Hip hoorah!" Echoed an official voice over the distant sound of a small crowd cheering.
"Im looking to start up a Moa racing club, Im going need some help to get some birds into shape. Shall probably have to start by getting some eggs." Vizigog stated to the boy, " If you're interested, you can show what makes a bird into a good racer."
Puku lay still in the back of the wagon, the blood from his grevious wounds covered him like a black mourning shroud. As the healing energy flowed from Orna, she saw the gush of ichor from Pukus brutal neck wound subside. The meat within the wound seemed to stitch itself together like grasping fingers and the big Orc stirred. He gurgled defiantly from the bloody ruin of his mouth but soon lapsed back into unconciousness.
-10+5=-5 -5 HP for the one tusker
Puku has a pot CLW on his person, would Orna use it on him? Possibly? What would be the thing to do?
"Ah the females, yes, very fine beasts to be sure." Vizigog mused "My compatriots and I have just been up to Opukokino and back with the good ranger Idris. We showed those blackgaurds a thing or two i tell you!"
"But, good Hoiho, I digress, while adventuring about in this magnificent forest, I have seen some amazing feats of dexterity and grace done with ease by the riders of these Moa. Which is breathtaking I assure you, but Hoiho, I wonder, how well can these Birds perform on the flat, on a plain for example?"
"Can they manage speed for lengths of time I wonder?"
"Hey need a helps fulla?" Puku enquires of the old pillick.
Though Puku may have never seen an actual sheep before he's only too eager to try and handle these animals. More to favor this Elder chap than to speed the wagon along.
Mysterious Jaguar wrote:
"Ho ho! There's nothing wrong with her at all, she says your mate here was playing a trick on you! Ho ho!" He chuckles.
"Many thanks, noble young warriors!" Vizigog hands them another copper each. " Now run along, Im sure there is much adventure awaiting young bloods such as yourselves."-2 coppers from personal stash
Vizigog turns now to address the beastmaster Hoiho.
"Noble Mr Hoiho I presume, master of these fine Moa, I am Vizigog, humble adventurer and entrepeneur. It is a fine honour indeed to make your aquaintance."
Roll for diplomacy 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29
"Im extremely interested in these Birds of yours..."
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7
Puku wrinkles his wrinkled nose at the pungent bar of oatmeal soap.
While Im intrigued as to the nature of the grand theft poultry, RPGwise, Vizigog wouldnt care a fig. No offense.
"Well Prof, it seems like a good slice of justice pie has been served hot this day!"
Funnily enough, this week I mysteriously hurt my teste! Aw dats Matrix!
Puku feels the warmth of glory fill his heart for the first time in what seems like an age. By helping these smallfolk he has indeed gained much personal mana. Though none of his kin are here to recognise his spiritual acheivement, he feels the same swell of pride nonetheless.
If the river was handy, why dig a well at all?
As i had thought, in that case...
With a sceptical wrinkle of his pug nose, Puku places the bucket on the lip of the well.
"I smell no taint in this water cuz, why dont you have a Magic at it, if you reckon its patu."
Puku is keeping the Hobbits away from the bucket while he gathers up the well rope (Still attached at either end.)
How far is the River from Oldtree? Surely Puku would have some idea of in which direction it ran in comparison to the village...
Puku draws his skinning dagger from his jacket and with a slash severs the rope. He then proceeds to wind up the rope around the bucket.
"Yous arent gonna go thirsty though, I'll go get a few barrels of water from the river eh!"
I assume theres some old barrels in the inn or do i need to go look for the local chandler?
"The Water's poisened? Ho! Outofit!" Puku ambles through the small throng of Hobbit Housemarms and over to the Well. He deftly reaches over and grabs the Wells rope.
Orna continues to prattle florid words of warning to the little women and as she does so Puku pulls the bucket up from the Well.
Can Puku inspect the bucket with a sniff and try Knowledge: Nature(3), Survival(5) and/or Perception(5) to identify if the water is tainted? Without drinking any of course.
Also, from the swag sack, Vernon takes a look at the MW longbow what we nicked, He attaches the bowstring and pulls the weapon. "Not bad." He grunts and replaces his light crossbow, also taking the 20 arrows.
Vizigog approaches the Prof who is doing jumping jacks and flexing his calf muscles "Check this out Doc, a real dinky-di thralmasaurian amulet!"
Could you once again tell me the exact amount of coin what we found in the chest?
Professer Crowley lead the group back to his lodgings, A fine Darkwood Whare with huge carved and jagged crossbeams.
He hovered on his disc over to a throne carved out of a large log, and with sudden gesticulations and a loud clap the Prof conjured a magical poltergeist who started brewing tea for the weary travellers.
Lambert dissapeared inside the whare and Baasa stretched out in the sun to bask. Prof. Crowley looked to the large Ape "Galadriels grace how big he's gotten!"
Benzo strolled over to investigate a garden of herbs and flowers while Vizigog tapped his pipe out on a rock he was sitting upon. The Manorc packed his cone and took a big hoon.
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O
He blew out a blue cloud of smoke that became a creeping taniwha, slinking along and blowing out its own mini smoke rings.
"Here begins the tale , oh generous host," Said Eustace, his eyes glowing like red coals "...of thassilonian mystery and horror!"
He recounts the tale i guess and have we got Idris with us?
Turn back time a smidge... Puku watched as his tribemates walked of into the bush, Shinise looked back and blew Puku a big smootch. The Barbarian deflated with a huge sigh, and hoped that Crom let him see them again one day.
Vizigog sat 'neath a strange bowered tree. Its white trunk swept up like a frozen dervish to a lush canopy of thick green and berries. The ManOrc seemed enthralled by the shimmer of gold his coins made as they revolved on his fingertipss. He meticulously began counting the hoard for what seemed like the third time today.
Puku stretched out on the flat bed of the wagon, though he was exhausted from the last few days of horror, he was still unable to sleep...transfixed instead on the grey clouds above, and where indeed Moekuri's words of "Destiny" would lead him...
A mere sentence so I can find this thread a bit easier....not necassarily canon if there's more filling to be filled
With one leathery hand Vernon rolls a cigarette and places it twixt his thin crusted lips. He strikes a match and as he lifts it to his craw it flares suddenly and blinds the old bugger. When the spots clear from his eyes he sees Vizigog closely examining some intricate heathen carvings, the Orc seems to be muttering in some vile tongue.
Vizigog eyes glow with a menacing ruby hue as he shakes his 3 tikis also, "Friend, Ive had a really unsatisfactory evening thus far, and if you dont get yourself vanished this instant, you've seen your last sunset, you savvy?"
Vizigog gently grabs one of the Shamans ears and leans in close to his tattooed face "Tell me of this interloping woman, who is she? Where did she come from?"