Eyeing the dark eyed lady closest to him for a second but paying no attention to her comment he turns to his brother.
"Brother, it seems you have a pair interested in your company or maybe just your big sword." Dagru chuckles and continues, " Anyway enjoy them while you can. I have other business."
Dagru focuses heavily on the fine speciman of a lady passing around the stein. Now that is my kind of lady.
He picks up the pace and heads to the drinking table. A venture he is all too well acquianted.
"Look at all the faces, I can see you all passed out already. Give me the drink."
Gromar hears the call for a drinking game and sighs. This drink is too good to waste by glugging it down as quickly as possible just to get so drunk one couldn't properly enjoy it. He finds himself in a quandary. Normally one to take control of such a scene, he doesn't want to draw too much attention to himself lest his hosts think he is trying to steal the scene out from under them. Quietly cursing the quibbles of nobility and their inability to share plans so that others could properly act, he takes another ale and sits down to watch the drinking contest.
Gramlag takes notice of the newest entrants to the hall and shifts nervously "a pair o kobolds is harmless enough and a single goblin too will cause little issue, but hobgoblins are a step up and have already presented their crewd demenor, this is becoming a situation where sobriety will be important"
turning to look at the hobgoblin that has sat down at the table not far from him gramlag address him "i welcome you to this hall as it would seem you've gained invitation to be here but you would be advised to treat others here with a wee bit o respect or i will not be the pleasent dwarf i am right now. now please eat, drink and let us pass the time till this meeting is done in good spirits." Gramlag hopes that someone pointing out that their cras behaviour isnt needed or appriciated will calm them enough that nothing serious needs to happen but he quietly shifts his bags under his chair and his shields to a place easily reachable should he need them
The invitation to the game is tempting, even though Rockne has never developed much of a taste for alcohol he rarely passes up a chance to test himself against others, but almost unconsciously he stops his circuit of the room near the hobgoblin's side of the human woman's table. He is far from the heroic type to jump in and protect a woman's honor but he has seen enough bullies over the years to recognize and dislike the behavior. He forces open the fist he did not know he had been clenching and takes a deep breath. Not your problem, let the swordlords handle it.
Wise words yet he does not heed them. As the dwarf's reprimand holds their attention Rockne closes the distance to the table, snagging a nearby chair along the way. Despite his stature he maneuvers the furniture like a man long accustomed to dealing with a world that is slightly too large for him, swinging the chair in front of him and placing it between the woman and the hobgoblin with a loud thud just as the dwarf stops talking. Climbing up to sit he gives the group what he hopes passes for a friendly grin but looks more like clenching teeth against pain.
"Talking big swords are we?" He glances up to where the hilt of the too-large longsword peeks over his right shoulder, then down to the hobgoblin's hip. He gives a shrug of indifference. "Maybe we hear what these nobles talk about what they need, then they decide who measures up? And who doesn't??"
Ederzand watches as Gird comes towards the group talking and smiles as he stands near bows his head slightly and begins to speak, Good evening sir, I am Ederzand cleric of Sarenrae. It does seem as if those attending have grown very numerous. Some suggest that we may have to show our merit against each other. I don’t believe that this will happen for it would seem unwise to injure any of the ones chosen to tame the wild lands they wish us to.
Ederzand suddenly turns this attention to the boisterous two who have entered the hall. And still more arrive and even more diversity. I hope that I am more right than wrong on the possibility to fight here against these good people. I could not in good conscious do that for they have wronged no one.
Turning to Gird and Morvan after the Hobgoblin make the comment about the sheath looking quite confused. It does not look as if the Hobgoblins sword needs another sheath. I do not believe his intention is honorable. We must keep an eye on these two… do you not think.
At the suggestion by Erimriel of the drinking game Ederzand bows his head I am sorry but I do not partake in liquors of any kind, but will be happy to assist any that need healing afterward. Smiling after what he believes is a clever joke he flags down a servant, If it pleases you and you can accommodate I would like a black tea mixed with a bit of honey and mint and then chilled. Thank you
Secretly pleased at being the center of attention, the dark-eyed woman puts her hands up in a gesture of restraint to the hobgoblins, the dwarf, and the halfling who has suddenly wandered up. She almost giggles at the sight, but manages to control herself this time, thankfully.
"Now, now, there's no need for such big talk. I made a jest at their expense and they retorted. No harm done and no honor lost. Although I do thank you for your chivalry, good dwarf and sir halfling." She smiles widely at each in turn, keeping an eye on the hobgoblin out of the corner of her eye, in case he should get jumpy.
"How long are the organizers of this venture going to continue making us wait? Surely they are not intending to send so large a group into the Stolen Lands. Such a company would only invite retaliation from the bandits and ruffians who pollute the place." the half-orc asks, too himself as much as to anyone else present, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back, an air of impatient eagerness to his voice.
"How long are the organizers of this venture going to continue making us wait? Surely they are not intending to send so large a group into the Stolen Lands. Such a company would only invite retaliation from the bandits and ruffians who pollute the place." the half-orc asks, too himself as much as to anyone else present, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back, an air of impatient eagerness to his voice.
as the half orc asked his question to the room as much as himself Gramlag piped in with the best answer he could surmise "the room is getting awefully full and the number of new entrants is starting to dwindle, id imagin its not much longer for us to wait. your likly to be correct id imagin a small squad will be chosen to lead the way and settup forward opperations, too many would attract too much unwanted attention before they could get settled in."
Gramlaged answered with what he knew wasnt really an answer but assumed it was really the best that he knew at the moment and sumizzed the rest were on roughly the same page.
Gramlag also took a moment to meet the smile of the fair woman who was getting the unwanted advances from the hobgoblin, she seemed unperturbed so he was happy that everything seemed to be going smoothly. he also caught the eye of the halfling when he could and gave him a small nod as well, it always helps to have numbers on your side against people who behave in such a manor.
Stupid priests... try to tell Snotboogie what he can and can't do. 'Snot like Snotboogie want to hurt anybody... but anyone who hurt Omar is a bad person, deserves what they get.
The goblin finishes munching on his chicken bone, content that the focus of attention - and suspicion - seems to have moved away from him and on to the other newcomers. Having given up on removal of his chains for the moment, he recedes into his corner and watches the room. On seeing the large woman produce a large bottle and demand a drinking contest, an idea comes to mind.
The goblin sinks back into the shadows, hoping nobody sees him, and begins rifling through his pockets before finding a small white tablet, and swallowing it quickly. He then pulls out 4 vials from his waist and begins carefully mixing the contents between them, occasionally shaking one, and hoping nobody sees the process, which takes a full minute.
The goblin then bursts into the center of the room, declaring at the top of his lungs:
"SNOTBOOGIE WILL ENTER DRINKING CONTEST! Snotboogie can drink more than any longshanks! Snotboogie is best drinker of drinks to ever drink drinks!"
With that, he clambers up on to the table, and, realizing that picking up a stein that is nearly half his height might be difficult, gets on his knees before using the chains on his arms to tip back the glass to his lips for a long swig - though a nontrivial amount does end up all over him and the table, he still pulls back an impressive amount of hooch for a Goblin of his small size before pushing it back upright.
"OKAY. WHO NEXT!?!?!?"
The goblin grins and looks around the room, hoping for a challenger.
"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.
Yandasana responds with a pleasant smile, "Nothing particulary focused, dear. A mix of motivation between external and internal." Yanda does not want to be quick to give out anything to her. Yandasana wears strong mental armor to machiavellian plots. If her weaknesses were picked out of her, she would be at her opponent's mercy. Although, her compassion for other beings is a quality that she never does conceal. Her empathy is what enhances her perceptive skills.
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.
"Perhaps the man will heed to some advice." The advice is given swiftly,"She told me of what you said. Do not worry, I have not judged your character based on it. However, I should give you some knowledge learned that might be to your benefit. Be careful with the choice of words you speak. Honesty is certainty an excellent virtue to uphold with all qualities that are good natured. But, do remember that your words can create enemies as well as allies. Even honesty can be flawed in of itself. If we do end up traveling on the road, make sure to remember that. And remember that in many other contexts. I would like to keep my companions very much alive if I am on the road. I respect your decision to apologize."
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.
The knowledge that Serafina is still wearing the feelings of anger is noted in Yandasana's mind. She does not tell Gird, out of the hope of giving him some peace. As along as Serafina does not hunt him down to give him serious harm, he should be fine.
Upon him leaving, many new personalities come through the door. Surprising to Yandasana is the steady increasing diversity of individuals that were drawn for this expedition. "They must be desperate to get this expedition going. The stolen lands would not be taken by just anyone." Yanda hopes that if she ends up being picked, that she will provide additional grit of her own to succeed. She listens between the exchange of the Hobgoblin and Serafina.
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!"
She keeps her constant polite demeanor, unphased by the childish statement. Seeing that the Hobgoblin has sat on the other side of Serafina, she gives out advice to him as well,"You may court Serafina if you wish. But, if she rejects your advances, imagine yourself being poured on by gallons of cold water. That helps me if someone rejects my admiration. And if you would like to hear my answer, I am not interested. Being forward is a good strategy in courting a partner, you get a clear yes or no answer. I wish you both good luck. May you live long and prosper." She gets up and walks away to the curiosity that Serafina pointed out earlier with her eyes. She would rather Serafina get out of her own troubles at the moment. The solution was only to be honest to the hobgoblin.
She approaches Erimiel, "Drinking game? I would rather not participate, but I would gladly watch the spectacle."
The goblin finishes munching on his chicken bone, content that the focus of attention - and suspicion - seems to have moved away from him and on to the other newcomers. Having given up on removal of his chains for the moment, he recedes into his corner and watches the room. On seeing the large woman produce a large bottle and demand a drinking contest, an idea comes to mind. The goblin sinks back into the shadows, hoping nobody sees him, and begins rifling through his pockets before finding a small white tablet, and swallowing it quickly. He then pulls out 4 vials from his waist and begins carefully mixing the contents between them, occasionally shaking one, and hoping nobody sees the process, which takes a full minute. The goblin then bursts into the center of the room, declaring at the top of his lungs: "SNOTBOOGIE WILL ENTER DRINKING CONTEST! Snotboogie can drink more than any longshanks! Snotboogie is best drinker of drinks to ever drink drinks!" With that, he clambers up on to the table, and, realizing that picking up a stein that is nearly half his height might be difficult, gets on his knees before using the chains on his arms to tip back the glass to his lips for a long swig - though a nontrivial amount does end up all over him and the table, he still pulls back an impressive amount of hooch for a Goblin of his small size before pushing it back upright."OKAY. WHO NEXT!?!?!?" The goblin grins and looks around the room, hoping for a challenger."
The goblin's ploy is visible to her, but his intention is not fully revealed.
Yandasana questions the Goblin, "What kind of preparation did you do there? I saw you consuming your extract, trying to get a leg up on the competition? By all means compete, just give a full disclosure before people take up on your challenge."
"Indeed, the woman is right. If you are attempting to cheat your way through this contest, you may not like the way that this ends. You have already displayed quite the penchant for trickery and deceit. It would be no surprise if you tried it again..." Khargol adds to Yandasa's questioning, his eyes narrowed as he stares down at the goblin.
"I do believe there is quite a lot of talking for this to be a game of kinds. Now people please!"
Dagru begins to chant, DRINK... DRINK... DRINK..., while pounding his fist on the table as the stein moved around the table. His voice almost enthralling the others listening to the point of submission and compliance.
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"Indeed, the woman is right. If you are attempting to cheat your way through this contest, you may not like the way that this ends. You have already displayed quite the penchant for trickery and deceit. It would be no surprise if you tried it again..." Khargol adds to Yandasa's questioning, his eyes narrowed as he stares down at the goblin.
Snotboogie not know what you talking about! You saw Snotboogie under table because Snotboogie was looking for things under table. Snotboogie not hiding anything. Snotboogie not lied to you once, and have nothing to hide! Snotboogie was making old alchemical recipe, Alchemist's Kindness! All it do is mean that Snotboogie not suffer tomorrow for the pain of his drinking today! Is not way to cheat! Learned it from priests of Drunk-God-Man! They use it all the time, and have drinking contests all the time, so how it be cheating?
Seeing the Hobgoblins enthusiasm for the competition, the Goblin decides to join in, pounding his foot on the table, and joining in the chant, adding a substantially higher pitch to the chorus:
"Drink! Drink! Drink"!
With a grimace at the rather vulgar attitude of the goblin and the hobgoblin, Morvan excused himself from the table. He had no intention of ruining his senses by joining in a drinking game like that. Let them make fools of themselves. I doubt the Swordlords will be impressed. Grabbing another ale and a plate of food, he headed over to the dwarf, sat down, and said, "Pardon, good dwarf. I am Morvan Fellis. I could not help but note you carry two shields, but I see no weapon. Tell me, what is your weapon of choice?"
Glancing at the halfling and dwarf, Grautak grins mischievously calls out to his brother,"Brother, it looks like we got a couple of dandies interested in me! Har! How you like that?! Sorry boys, this Hobgoblin prefers sheathes that don't rust your sword!!! Har har har!!! He stands up guffawing and makes his way to the bar next to his brother, where he orders a drink.
The girl looked at the plain clothing she wore.
Today was the day she was leaving. Was kinda terrifying- She knew she would have to hope for fortune to smile on her.
She slid on the robe her mentor bought her, and slid on the hat she made, picking up the quarterstaff she found, she makes speed. The meeting had started a while before, but she never was good with time anyway.
She ran down the road, staff in hand, ready to go on the adventure of a lifetime.
She knew that many of the local wizards knew of her family, so she knew she only had her one master to teach her. And he said, quite clearly, that she needed to do this. Kill those bandits, help the guys build their country, bring him over, have him teach her the remainder of his lessons.
She stumbles into the room, watching the whole drinking contest come into being, and sighs, sitting down at a nearby table.
She hears a whimper inside her hat, as she removes her tiny bunny, "It's okay..." She said, petting it. She looks around, as she lays her Hare on the table. She looks over to the wide array of people here.
"Well..."
She looks to Morvis and Gramlag.
"Presumably to bash folks heads in with." she called out, idly. She slides off the chair, "So... Hello!" The girl sad, standing up. She's rather short, bearly four foot six, and is underdeveloped in most respects.
"I'm Katlin. Katlin Cart." she said.
With a grimace at the rather vulgar attitude of the goblin and the hobgoblin, Morvan excused himself from the table. He had no intention of ruining his senses by joining in a drinking game like that. Let them make fools of themselves. I doubt the Swordlords will be impressed. Grabbing another ale and a plate of food, he headed over to the dwarf, sat down, and said, "Pardon, good dwarf. I am Morvan Fellis. I could not help but note you carry two shields, but I see no weapon. Tell me, what is your weapon of choice?"
Gramlag gets a glint in his eye at the question, he clearly loves answering this one and has gotten it before "Oh but that's the thing laddie, these are me weapons, a shield is heavy and large that's for sure but i make armour for a living back in Brevoy and i heft these things all day long that i no longer notice the weight, i wield these just as skillfully as a man with a pair o blades but unlike him ive got a wall of steel to use if i need to. in fact these shields here are my finest works to date, the spikes crafted and hardened and the straps made specifically for me self, i know its not the worlds best work but im proud to say its some of my best work and im young enough to have lots more ahead of me."
To demonstrate his skills with the shields Gramlag straps them to his arms in just a few seconds and displays his agility while wearing them, looking at the dwarf you would hardly think that they weighed more than the actual armour he was wearing "as you can see lad using these i can hold my oun in a fight with no issues and leave anyone lookin for trouble with the stats to gaze upon!" after his display Gramlag removes the shields again and carefully sets them back next to his seat. "should we have time at some point id gladly have a sparing match with ya and you can see first hand what it be like to face me and me steel"
"ah were are me manners, you gave me you name and i never introduced meself, im Gramlag, i come from Brevoy by invitation of the master of the militia there, i of course not heigh born enough to have been called here on my own merit" Gramlag states with a tad bit of distaste "but should i be selected for this expedition i think i can more than a name for meself and sort that matter out in due time, a dwarf may live long but a legacy can last forever if you set yourself in the hearts of a people" Gramlags's last statement clearly held some weight to the dwarf and those listening could tell that he seemed even more than the words he said want to be remembered, be it a hero or a great king, but a dwarf worth speaking of through more than just dinner.
The girl looked at the plain clothing she wore.
Today was the day she was leaving. Was kinda terrifying- She knew she would have to hope for fortune to smile on her.
She slid on the robe her mentor bought her, and slid on the hat she made, picking up the quarterstaff she found, she makes speed. The meeting had started a while before, but she never was good with time anyway.
She ran down the road, staff in hand, ready to go on the adventure of a lifetime.
She knew that many of the local wizards knew of her family, so she knew she only had her one master to teach her. And he said, quite clearly, that she needed to do this. Kill those bandits, help the guys build their country, bring him over, have him teach her the remainder of his lessons.
She stumbles into the room, watching the whole drinking contest come into being, and sighs, sitting down at a nearby table.
She hears a whimper inside her hat, as she removes her tiny bunny, "It's okay..." She said, petting it. She looks around, as she lays her Hare on the table. She looks over to the wide array of people here.
"Well..."
She looks to Morvis and Gramlag.
"Presumably to bash folks heads in with." she called out, idly. She slides off the chair, "So... Hello!" The girl sad, standing up. She's rather short, bearly four foot six, and is underdeveloped in most respects.
"I'm Katlin. Katlin Cart." she said.
"aye lass, more or less to bash heads in with, but more to prevent me own head from meeting the same fate, it's a pleasure to meet you katlin, me name is Gramlag but ill respond to gram, dwarf or just "hey you" if you prefer." gramlag says with a chuckle "word of advice though id keep an eye on your rabbit there, while civilized folk likely wont touch it we are not fully surrounded by civilized folk at the moment and id hate to see anything happen to it"
"aye lass, more or less to bash heads in with, but more to prevent me own head from meeting the same fate, it's a pleasure to meet you katlin, me name is Gramlag but ill respond to gram, dwarf or just "hey you" if you prefer." gramlag says with...
"JoJo's a tough little bunny, he won't be stolen so easily," She said with a mild air of smugness.
Meanwhile, she gestured to her bunny to jump onto her shoulder, which it did.
"Never thought it would be viable, to have two shields. I was always taught that two shields were redundant. You know, shields not being really weapons, sacrificing offense to clumsily hold one handed shields in both hands."
She looks around, and asks for a cup of milk from a barmaid, if there is one.
As Yandasana matter-of-factly gives her opinion on current events, the sorceress is again seized with a fit of the giggles, which she has masterfully overcome twice now. She courteously waits for the woman to take her leave before her lips curl up, dimples prominent as she chuckles lowly, trying not to be overheard. It wouldn't do to alienate potential allies.
Seeing her dwarven rescuer engaged in another conversation, she turns her attention to the gallant halfling who had come to defend her honor. She overhears the dwarf's conversation, however, and her brow furrows. Stay out of it, Serafina. Just shut up! She turns back to the halfling, her expression growing exasperated, as though there was a problem she just couldn't solve! Unable to stem the tide of curiosity, she turns back to the dwarf. "Gramlag, isn't it? What do you do if someone is say, a hundred paces off, and shooting you with arrows or magic?"
There, it was out. She tilts her head to the side, expression flat, her demeanor not condescending, just curious.
"oh i certainly don't get a benefit to my defense from wielding two shields i do get A benefit. And the combat style ive developed is more suitable for small combat, an army certainly couldn't use shields as weapons en mass. the style is very similar to boxing but youve got large hunks of heavy metal on your arms to swing around as well" Gramlag said to reply to her thoughts on his choice of combat attire happy that someone has taken interest in his peculiar weapon style.
Turning to face the elegant woman he responds quite plainly "I'd be required to either close the gap or flee of course. i have training in bows and would use one if i had it on hand, i lacked the funds to bring one with me tonight but should i join the expedition im sure that will change quickly. battle is equal parts planning and reacting and not every fight can be won, retreat is a perfectly viable option if it means you live instead of die" Gramlag guessed based on the question that this girl probably hasn't seen a lot of combat, being a dwarf he has seen many more years of life and while not all too experienced he probably has seen a thing or two more than she has
Rockne chuckles under his breath as the woman critiques the dwarf's weapon choice. But its the dwarf's response that breaks his silence.
"Retreat? Go into a fight thinking you can't win, youre gonna lose. Don't give your all, you've given your enemy an advantage." He pauses for a moment to reconsider is words, resuming with what he hopes is a more even tone. "From what I've seen, all the planning in the world goes right out the window once the blows start flying and the blood starts flowing. In the heat of battle.....your heart, that commitment? That's all you have between you and the boneyard."
"Well, that makes sense." She said, "Alright."
She looks over to Serafina, "Get into full cover, send your archers up to high ground. If he posseses high ground, have the warmage launch a few magic missiles at them until he's down, or lay down a silent image of a wall in the way. Magic is far more difficult, ideally, you'll want a cleric who can cast spell resistance, or a scroll of spell resistance, silent image to block their view with a wizard casting obscuring fog to add a miss chance for the fighter. Follow it up with archers or Wizards readying to fire arrows at the Wizard to make him have to concentrate, fail, and not cast his spell."
The girl looks over to the Halfling, "Well, my dad always said that, if you can avoid a fight, try to. Take most advantages you can get."
She shook her head, "I don't like fighting. I'm horrid at it. And even in battle, tactics are very important to posses- Flanking and knowing your wizards tactics my dad told me is very important. Also, try not to die is a very important thing- He told me there's no shame in running when outnumbered and outarmed."
"Have a horse underneath you and you can close the distance to the archers... Run right over them! Of course a smart warrior would bring his own bow."
"agreed having a way to shoot back would be ideal, but combat isnt always ideal and you work with what you have. i do like the lasses plans to obsure the opponent with magic but was responding under the assumption that it was meself versus the archer or mage, if i had more tools at my disposal that certainly opens some options" gramlag replied to the responces for his answer. this girl has quite the tactical mind and gramlag is certainly like what he hears when she speaks of battle, seems she respects her father and for good reason as he has taught her well thus far.
Serafina nods at the dwarf's response, trying to and failing to cover up her smirk at his expected reply. Nobody suspected a nice-looking woman with no armor on was a veteran of many skirmishes, and she liked it that way. She keeps her next questions to herself, however, not wanting to rub salt in the fellow's wounds. To each his own, perhaps the dwarf had tricks up his sleeves that she was unaware of, as she had her own that she kept secret.
Turning her attention to the child that has joined the conversation, the sorceress's demeanor is both amused and annoyed. What in the Nine Hells was the kid talking about? Serafina had just mentioned what Gramlag would do in a certain situation, and now the child was mentioning full battle tactics. She smiles down patronizingly at the little girl. "And aren't you cute! Who are you here with?"
Slightly distracted by the girl Ederzand fails to respond when the topic turns interestingly on battle. This girl has to be with someone she said her father is he around. I can not think one so young would be given a task of taking on bandits and monsters.
upon hearing the talk from the halfling about not giving up snaps him out of his daze.
My good halfling, Rockne was it not? It is wise to prepare and one should always give his or her all when battling a foe, but the wise old warrior is one that also knew when he was over matched and decided to retreat. Ones heart may be in the boneyard if it stops beating.
turning to the little girl, Yes my child are you here with your father that you spoke of?
Ederzand smiles genuinely with compassion and concern for the safety of the little girl.
"och, all ya can stop looking down on the lass, she clearly has a smart head on her shoulders and while she is certainly young she isnt that far off what could be concidered an adult so coddling her wont help. she seems the bookish sort if you ask me so i dought they had her pegged for stranglin bandits, i hope it more along the lines of plannin, or perhaps she is magically inclined as he battle tactics would imply."
Gramlag turns to katlin and addres the girl directly "tell me lass can you handle yourself if things go a bit sidways? how firmly do you have that head on your shoulders?"
Hearing his brother's voice and the talk of battle made Dagru tired of the drinking game. He moved away from the table and about the Guildhall to eye the potential competition for the push into the Stolen Lands while continuing to listen for his brothers voice.
Outsiders, Dwarves, Humans, Elfling types, goblinkin, reptilian, hmmm... what a strange bunch indeed?
He does not greet or talk to anyone directly but continues to roam the room looking for someone he may call leader.
I wonder if either I or Grautak will run this show. Only time will tell.
"At her age we were already hip deep in war training. Although her tactics are sound, her sword arm doesn't look too strong! Knowing how to kill a man and killing a man ar two entirely different thing."
"There is truth in that, but the sword-arts are far from enough. A strong body is important, but more important is a strong mind. The one with something to believe in, who knows for what they fight, is already stronger than the indiscriminate murderer. A strong mind of conviction is unlikely swayed in its belief and the arm behind that mind will certainly strike true."
Erimriel chokes down a swig of what is nearly straight vodka at this point and slides the stein down to the next unfortunate in an unending chain of libational punishment. To her credit, she holds her drink well for one that seems relatively young, though the bits of perspiration on her brow and the growing openness of her voice and demeanor betray the alcohol's toll. Overhearing the discussions of strategy, she doesn't manage to suppress a few scoffs, but ultimately manages to hold her tongue. Gorum does not favor cowards. And they want to send a child into the wildlands with goblins, kobolds, and a weaponless dwarf—to rely on the child for strategy? Utter madness!
Looking to Gramlag and nodding Ederzand feels a bit ashamed for hisown assumptions. You are most correct honorable dwarf.
Ederzand turns to the young lass and bows his head.
Forgive me young lady. I am Elderzand. Pkease tell me how you came to be here Edezand smiles warmly.
These masters have gathered a large and diverse group. I only pray they allow me to participate. And pray if they choose this young child i be allowed as well to ensure her safety.
“Hey, I’m here on my own!” The little girl said, “I was sent by my master to continue working on my traning.” She said bluntly.
“And I’m not cute. I’m a wizard.” She said. “Smarter than you, probably.” She said, “I can speak five languages. How many can you speak? So don't go talking to me like I'm an idiot.”
She stands tall, “I am a wizard, and I’m tough!” she said rather proudly, “And the smartest girl you’ll even meet!” She said, using prestedigitation to make magic glitter flutter around her head as she says “Meet” to accentutate this.
She then teleported to the other side of the dwarf, smiling, “Understandable? I’m good at Magic, you know, so I’d say yes. And I know more about Magic than most folks know the backs of their own hands.”
Her hare nudges her shoulder, pointing behind her, and casting prestedigitation to make her spit taste like chocolate milk.
She takes a breath, and bows to the cleric, “As I said before, here on my Masters request- He had other things to do, but was invited- And he said that I could probably handle it better than himself!” She said.
She looks to the half-orc cavileer, "Yeah- Not good with swords. At all. Didn't stop my father from spending ten hours a day trying to teach me how to fight, though."
"And so spunky, too! Yes, you are too cute. And so confident, as well. Look at you with your little sparkles!" The woman's dark eyes practically sparkle with malevolence as she looks at the little brat. Five minutes in the wild, with that mouth, and they'll be digging her a shallow grave.
Still, she has to resist joining in the magic show, if for no other reason than to one-up the little braggart. She turns to the Halfling, rolling her eyes as she smiles. "You always wonder how bad a child you were when you look on one as an adult. What's your story, sir halfling? What brings you here?" She takes a large swallow of something fruity, feeling a twinge of kick in it. Definitely alcohol...she would have to be careful.
The goblin, being next in line, takes another long drink from the stein. Coming up for air afterwards, he belches loudly, but shows no signs of the amount he's just imbibed, aside from fouler than usual breath, and the smell of beer and vodka that have spilled all over his ragged garments.
He wanders over to the young girl, now surrounded by a swarm of tut-tutting adults who seem to have completely forgotten how recently the presence of a goblin was the great affront to their honor and valor as warriors being chosen for this expedition.
"Snotboogie can show off his tongues too!"
"Not just that,"
The goblin pointedly ignores the talk of battle tactics... if Omar was here... we show them longshanks how to fight like world's smartest goblin... if Omar were here...
"Well, my dad always said that, if you can avoid a fight, try to. Take most advantages you can get."
She shook her head, "I don't like fighting. I'm horrid at it. And even in battle, tactics are very important to posses- Flanking and knowing your wizards tactics my dad told me is very important. Also, try not to die is a very important thing- He told me there's no shame in running when outnumbered and outarmed."
Rockne bristles at the child's reply but does his best not to show it. Thinking back to growing up with Malik he estimates the girl is barely a teenager based on her size. He takes a deep breath to temper his reaction. He has hit a woman before, of course, anyone is this line of work who says they won't is a fool, and he has even hit a child or two if they deserved it, but somewhere deep inside him a line is drawn at hitting young girls.
While he tries hard to forget the years when Malik owned him he still remembers how to supress his anger and behave 'properly'. "I'm sure there's times when its the smarter choice m'lady. But you say 'retreat', sounds like 'turn tail and run away' to me." He hopes that is enough to avoid offending her.
He turns back to the woman Serafina. "Earned my invite, same as most here. Maybe 'earned' more than others." He turns his head briefly at the big-talking hobgoblin before making eye contact with the woman again. "Started building up a reputation when I arrived in Restov a ways back. Some of it good, some of it not so good, but good enough to prove I'm the kind of guy you want with you when trouble starts."
Rockne smiles as he thinks to himself, Unless you're the one causing them all the trouble, you dast little idiot.
The halfing takes a sip of his drink as well, realizing that he is enjoying the conversation. Makes sense: of all the braggarts and fools in the room this woman is the only one that has not annoyed him yet. "Hard to pass up a chance like this; an invite to go on a quest, travel to strange lands in the name of fame, battle and glory. Only a fool would say no!"
"Men, nou pa gen nenpòt nan moun sa isit la, nou??"
Anxious to join in the huddled conversation around the sparkling girl Dagru pushes his way into the mix.
Time to see who here is truly useful and how.
"So we look to amaze with the tongue today do we friends? I bet we all can speak a few so let's play a little game. It could be a drinking game but I see some of you do not partake of the spirit.Say here is the rule. You start by one person saying a sentence in one language and then person who received the message repeats or rephrases it in another langauge to someone else. For Example. I will say something to Snot here in one language and he will say it to someone else in another."
Dagru shifts over to get a clear look at Snotboogie.
"Snotboogie you ready?"
Dagru motions to the Snotboogie to pass it along. "Go ahead pass it along. I know you can speak a few languages. It will be fun!"
Grinning at his brother, Grautak knew what this was about.
Ahh brother, so much smarter than I me. Good, create a diversion and I will examine this girl more.
Grautak's eyes watched the girl closely. He never trusted wizards. He and Dagru had killed the Numerian Hammer's wizard for his treachery. Magic was all well and good and had its place, but in his experience, wizards had a bad habit of betraying their friends. He would have to keep an eye on this girl. Young or not, she had ability.
He was interested in this master. What man would send a child to do his work? Perhaps he and Dagru could groom the child more to their liking. Maybe a wizard who hadn't quite grown up yet could be made to eschew their treacherous ways. He would have to discuss this with Dagru.
Not unkindly, Grautak looks at the girl and says,"Pretty words don't always get you out of trouble, and neither does magic. I am glad your father taught you some swordplay. If you want, me and my brother are more than happy to continue your training in the sword. You will need it in the wilds, even with your considerable magic ability. I could also teach you to ride. Being up on a horse will help even some disadvantage for you. I'll even let you ride my horse."
"Snotboogie not speak Dwarven, buuuuuuut...
The girl bunched her fist at the pompous woman.
"I'm not cute!" she cried, making her drink taste and feel like dirt in her mouth.
She turns to the goblin, speaking in somewhat fluent, brutish goblin-
"Uunt togaan, tac dar o'k mech daal an okaan dec, rhor daac daan dhach kelaan dhen, daan'kaan kokec, duur or khruun duur!"
She then swaps languages,
She stands up, and swaps to Halfling,
She switches gear to Gnome,
She tries to stand, tall and proud, her staff slightly larger than herself.
She stands taller, and says to Gramlag in Dwarven,
She stands tall again, staring at the halfling, "Makes more sense than sending a thousand men to the slaughter." she said.
She breaths in, calming herself down from her flurry of words.
"Anyway, yeah, who could? I mean, it's a amazing chance." she said.
"Yes, that would be... okay. I'm absolutely horrid, though, doubt you could teach me if a teacher of fifteen years can't." she chuckled, "And I doubt I'll do well with horses. Dad tried to get me to ride one, ran into a branch, and fell out of the horse." she chuckled.
Khargol narrows his eyes as he listens to the little chained up goblin, his hand dropping once more to the pommel of his sword as he speaks back, probably surprising all the goblinoids present, by using their own tongue.
And then, for good measure, speaks loudly and clearly enough that all nearby can hear him. "For the benefit of those who do not understand the Goblin tongue, this little one seeking to join this expedition has just told his comrades it would be a good idea to begin killing us if the selection process takes too long...and followed by suggesting that it might be beneficial to go ahead and kill a few of us now in the hopes that some might run away."
At this, the goblin begins to shriek...
"NOW WHO IS LIAR? SNOTBOOGIE SAID NO SUCH THING. LYING LIAR OF LIES. Snotboogie say that it not efficient to kill aaaaaaallllllll the gobbers and hobbers in Stolen Lands. Is good to speak Goblin and tell 'em to leave! Then kill a bunch so they listens! Isn't that why we all here?"
At this, the goblin jumps down and begins to kick the half-orc in the shins...
"LIAR. LIAR. LIAR. LIAR. Snotboogie thought counting god not like liars! LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR..."
This... continues for a while.
The woman grins as she rolls her eyes once again, the drink taking on its fruity taste with but little effort. She winks at the child before turning her attention back to the gallant halfling. "And perhaps those who lead the charge against the untamed wilds might find some renown and the ambitious can find power to suit them, no?" She cocks her head as he speaks in a tongue she can't understand, taking another sip of her beverage.
The sorceress overhears the serious half-orc, her curiosity piqued. The man had clearly misunderstood the goblin's intent with his words, but she remains silent, choosing instead to enjoy the growing spectacle. She puts a slender pointer finger in front of her lips as her brown eyes latch onto the halfling, just in case he understands goblin as well, while a mischievous smile makes its way onto her features.
The glare at the woman is practically visible.
Katlin sighs.
"He's telling the truth. He was tatalking about the goblin, saying that killing the goblins would take too much time, and ththat it's easier to tell then to go away."
Grautak turns his eyes to the half-orc and then gives his brother a knowing nod. Best watch for this one. Either he is daft or he plots to remove the goblin.
Grautak makes his way back to Serafina's table and sits in the chair he formerly vacated. He doesn't say anything or even look at anyone at the table. His eyes remain fixed on the half-orc for a few seconds and then return to the girl.
All the commotion and various languages hold little interest to the Halfling. Silly little tree-marking contest. What nonsense. Just keep your mouth shut and stay out of it!
What does grab Rockne's attention is the goblin, who he had not noticed before. More specifically, the goblin's chains. His eyes narrow to slits and he talks through clenched teeth.
"Anyone know why he's in chains? If he's not a criminal, there's no reason to treat him that way. Talk is fine but who can show some talent with lockpicks? Someone needs to get those off him."
"Now."