GM Rat Sass's Age of Worms

Game Master Governayle

Roll20 Link
Treasure Log
The Road So Far...
Map of Alhaster


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F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

Solrisa tilts her cup if she is offered the Resinwint.

* * *

Mortimer Smith wrote:
"Background music... a philter or two ... maybe later some dancing... a little serenade ..."

Solrisa’s breath catches as Mort speak about dancing. She’s quite sure she has never heard Mort speak so forcefully and eloquently before, or maybe this particular speech just had particular impact.

She rises to dance if someone wishes to dance with her...and it feels appropriate the situation.


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Roll20 Link- Legacy of Fire | Roll20 Link- Age of Worms

GM Rolls:

1d20 ⇒ 8
1d20 ⇒ 17
1d20 ⇒ 9

Ascaria wrote:
"Yes, I am a bit egotistical, and I am certainly a magical gnome, though the ‘leeches’ are helpful for disease. No god bestows my power, for it came in a time before I even knew the gods. How could I get power from them if I did not first worship them? Is that not the usual manner?”

Hemriss smiles down on the gnome. "There is nothing usual in the manner of the gods. Their desires are their own, who they choose to bless, their rightful decisions. Do you ever worry that your power will suddenly vanish, since you have no god to offend?"

Mortimer wrote:
"We should not dwell on the past, having already quashed it -- with whichever means. Instead, let us reflect on what the great city of Alhaster continues to offer to the future."

"Here, here!" Toris speaks up in support of the giant, the words moving him to answer in the affirmative.

Mortimer wrote:
"Had I though that you had failed in your endeavor to entertain tonight, Your Majesty, I'm sure I would have departed long ago. I couldn't think of anything more perfect than your company and the company of your guests. I only reminisce -- perhaps foolishly and out of my station -- of a slight finishing touch. Background music... a philter or two ... maybe later some dancing... a little serenade ..."

The Prince regards the giant for a moment. "Your ways are rough, Mort. Much like Mariss. I do not deny that your station has its country charm. You've attended other Banquets, then? I'll try to best your reminiscences. Please bear with us, won't you?"

Mortimer wrote:
"Daikon?"

Mahuudril leans forward, opening her mouth poutily, and waits for Mortimer to tine a radish, and place it just beyond her teeth.

Mortimer:

Vulras doesn't appear to notice your refilling of his cup. Likely, he comes to expect the Servants to be at the ready to do so, so a full cup doesn't garner undue reaction. You do notice that the hobgoblins, and Hoff, have kept their attention focused in your general direction, though it's difficult to tell if they noticed your Sleight of Hand.

Eidi wrote:
"We actually stumbled with one of their high priests while we were walking around the Arena's dungeons. I actually took [your beads] from his heretic hands. They will make a better service at your hands, Prince."

Zeech slow claps towards the elder half-elf. "Well done, ser Eidi." The Prince reaches forward, and slaps a gloved hand briskly across Eidi's shoulder. When the hand departs, a green glow of a handprint remains, courtesy of Eri's earlier gifting.

As the drinks continue to flow and the pie is consumed along with the vegetables, the Prince summons his Fool. "Come now, Ominous Fabler, provide some entertainment with one of your stories, while we sup."

"Yes, come now, don't disappoint your Prince!" The heads above chime in, as they are wont to do.

The Ominous Fabler makes his way to the table, and leaps up and onto its center space, where the ugly gnome can come and go as he pleases, dishes be damned.

"I am at your service, Your Gloriousnessess! Let me see, let me see..."

The Fool points to Kilraven. "Our noble!! A cynical man, little disposed to life and love- Less celebration, more celibacy!! Ha HaaaaHa! Let's call him Sir Sullen. One day, he decides that his garden is withered and old, just won't do, if he's to entertain at his residence, so he has several trees from a nearby forest uprooted and resoiled within his gates, with a magical swiftness. Instant Eden!! His garden is the talk of the town, as the city folk rarely spend the coin for the upkeep."

The Fool wanders down the length of the table, until he stands above Lady Lashonna. "Our dryad!! A beautiful, woodland creature, sworn to protect her beloved forest, which now resides in Sir Sullen's garden!! Ooooo, is she upset, too! As far as the eye can see, stone structures, and human rabble, gutter smells and colorless sky." The Fool pulls his hat down over his ears, and sways back and forth in comical consternation. The Lady Lashonna raises her glass with a smile.

"Now, what's a country fey supposed to do, now that they're trans-trunked into the big city? Well, one night not too long after the uprooting, Sir Sullen walks his garden, proud as a peacock, and he comes to hear a voice, sweet siren song. It entices him to the largest tree, where he sees the face of the most beautiful woman he's ever seen!! So, she speaks to him, she does. 'How ever did I come to reside here, you brooding man?'" The Fool now stands above Kilraven, who looks up at the ugly little man, little amused for the attention.

"'I purchased this tree. It's mine. Whoever you are, leave now. I have no time for your trespassing.' Well, you can imagine the autumn colors that rose to our dryad's face, so angry she was to learn her forest's fate. For the primal offense leveled against her, our fair lady fey drinks deep of eldritch magic, and bestows a promise on Sir Sully."

The Fool snags some baby's breath from the centerpiece, and tucks it into his sleeve, using it as a hand. "So long as you continue to imprison my esteemed Oaks, you will be overcome with the urge to defecate under these leaves, no less than four times a day, a bowel movement for each of the seasons, starting with the new moon. Oh, and what intestinal urgency it will be. Free me, and free yourself, you brute." On his last instruction, the Fool swats Kilraven on the nose.

Before Kilraven can return the favor, the Ominous Fabler retreats to others in his audience. "Imagine his indignation!! 'How dare you?! Do you know who I am?! We'll just see who bends first!!' And so Sir Sullen ignores the curse. Days go by, and the ignorant noble plans his first soiree. Little does Sir Sully know, but the evening of his first garden party falls on... you guessed it!!! the new moon!! The day of the party, and Sir Sullen finds himself stricken, I tell you, stricken with the knottiest of guts!! He tells himself it's only a little indigestion, but when he can't take it any more, he bolts out and into his garden, where he drops his drawers," at this point, the Fool has moved over to Mortimer, who stands in for the giant Oak, "and drops the biggest deuce of his life!!" To simulate this, the Fool somehow manages to produce several unwrapped, slightly warm from the body temperature, chocolates onto the giant's empty veggie plate. He does refrain from lowering his pants in the pantomime.

The Fool rubs his belly, content to dismiss the recent pain. "'That can only be a coincidence.' Sir Sullen speaks to no one in particular, but when he looks up, he is met by the steely gaze of the dryad staring at him from the tree trunk." The ugly little man turns to face Lady Lashonna, and finds her staring back at him, with a proper steely gaze.

"The day progresses, and Sir Sullen grows more concerned with each passing hour, each passing 'season'. As the guests arrive, he realizes too late that 'Winter' is coming. But he doesn't rightly know when. As it is his House, and his guests, there is nowhere to hide. He excuses himself to check on the dinner preparations, but in truth, he bolts to the Oak, where he begs to be released from the curse. He promises her the world, that first thing the next morning he will do as she bids, only please release him." The Ominous Fabler looks to the end of the table, where the Lady Lashonna shakes her head, unswayed. The Fabler drops his head, looking at Kilraven with pity.

"When his guests ask to enjoy their port wine and cigars in the garden, Sir Sullen finds himself unable to convince them otherwise, as his garden is the main focus of the dinner party, you see? When everyone is in their place, Sir Sullen assumes the position, and..."

For years to come, what happened on that dinner table during the Prince's 20th Anniversary Banquet would become the stuff of urban legend, so graphic was the pantomime, so visceral the noises, the Ominous Fabler's performance comes to a close with a dryad's vengeance.

Mariss applauds immediately, rising from his chair. Toris is out cold, while the Lady Miszen does her best to see him properly resuscitated. Captain Vulras looks up from his bowed head to check if the coast is clear, while Shag and Montague look at each other, seeking comprehension in each others' eyes.

Hoff snorts, while the hobgoblins finish their blackbird pie, unaffected.

The Lady Lashonna smirks, while Prince Zeech titters after spotting Toris lying in-state.

"I say, Fabler. When you tell a story..." The Prince looks about the table.

"Would anyone like to try and top that story? Or shall I request the next course?"


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Male Human Brawler (15), Thief (0)
Zeech wrote:
"Your ways are rough, Mort. Much like Mariss. I do not deny that your station has its country charm. You've attended other Banquets, then? I'll try to best your reminiscences. Please bear with us, won't you?"

Mortimer shrugs. Since when is dinner and dancing barbaric? "I guess you would know best, Prince Zeech," he says, with a glint of sparkling sarcastic innuendo. "I'm certain I'll not find the rest of the evening's entertainment either boring or boorish. Please, do carry on."

Solrisa wrote:
She rises to dance if someone wishes to dance with her...and it feels appropriate the situation.

"Sorry, Sol. I guess it is not to be," he rises to help her back into her seat before returning to his seat at the table at Mahuudril's side.

Smiling, he happily places a well shaped and generously proportioned chunk of radish just beyond her anticipating teeth.

He winks conspiratorially at the hobpigeons and Hoff when they happen to glance his way.

~~~

Fool wrote:
"Seasons... new moon .... [ Kilraven is cursed by the dryad sitting at the end of the table, and humiliated at a party he easily could have timed better... ]"

The unceremoniously recruited prop of an Oak known as Mortimer looks at the wrapped chocolate curiously.

Why was I so worried about behaving poorly in this venue?

As the Fool continues with his sordid story, Mort swipes half of the chocolates off of his plate and passes the rest down to Eri. He unwraps one, looks over at Eri, and with it offers to play chocolate toss.

ThrowChocolateIntoGapingEriMaw: 1d20 + 15 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 15 + 4 = 20
Miss: 1d8 ⇒ 4

His first attempt beans Eri square in the nose and richocets neatly back toward Mortimer, and Dex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22 he pulls back the follow through of the throw to catch the chocolate as it flies in mid air. Still fluidly moving, Mortimer throws it again then waits his turn as Eri tries. They take turns in this game even as the Fool yammers on.

ThrowChocolateIntoGapingEriMaw: 1d20 + 15 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 15 + 4 = 35

ThrowChocolateIntoGapingEriMaw: 1d20 + 15 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 15 + 4 = 36

Quote:
"When his guests ask to enjoy their port wine and cigars in the garden, Sir Sullen finds himself unable to convince them otherwise, as his garden is the main focus of the dinner party, you see? When everyone is in their place, Sir Sullen assumes the position, and..."

Mortimer looks from Lady Lashonna to Zeech and back again.

Sense Motive The Lady: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (12) + 19 = 31

Zeech wrote:
"Would anyone like to try and top that story? Or shall I request the next course?"

"Ah, well... what time of year is it?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Is it the new moon, does anyone know?" He looks at Kilraven. "Well, how do you feel? Can you go another round?" He manages not to snicker at his own inadvertent and tasteless innuendo.

"Ascaria, is Toris all right?"


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Male, Gnome
Hemriss wrote:
Hemriss smiles down on the gnome. "There is nothing usual in the manner of the gods. Their desires are their own, who they choose to bless, their rightful decisions. Do you ever worry that your power will suddenly vanish, since you have no god to offend?"

Ascaria thinks a moment, and shrugs, smiling, ”It is a gift surely, as is breathing. Like breathing someday it may cease and I will anguish over its loss, as I would breathing. But I do not worry about offending the power I receive, no.” He does not elaborate but seems comfortable in himself.

During the story telling he notices Mort’s chocolate tosses out of the corner of his eye. He suppresses a giggle, laughing mostly inwardly, as he tries to pay attention to the clown.

Later, after the pantomime…

While Ascaria may feel the first shadow of a faint, he does not follow his friend Toris prostate though he is thoroughly disgusted by whatever that was. He does move to poor Toris however, and check his vitals. (Using his physician’s spectacles to Detect Poison and Diagnose Disease on the poor man.)

If he looks healthy enough, Ascaria will help him back into his chair, providing some water, ”Drink this a moment, before we switch to something stronger to bolster you.”


F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

Solrisa sits back down, unwilling to force a dance when there is not one. She moves back to making joyous, empty, and meaningless conversation with the table, smiling and eating much more slowly than she did when she arrived. She’s never been wise, and was unable to contain her desire to eat and was now paying the penalty.

She has no grand stories to tell, unless the party would like to hear a tale of Rae and probably no one wants that.

She claps and tries to look eager for the next course though she is already very full. She wants to be a good guest.


Male Human Fighter (archer) / Sorcerer (stormborn) / Eldritch Knight 1/7/7

Eri suddenly sees a bit of brown hurtling at his face. He tries to dodge it and sees at the last second that Mort is trying to toss it in his mouth. Mort’s toss is more like an arrow so Eri looks like he’s nodding “No” but in a down-up fashion. The chocolate leaves a brown mark on his nose which he quickly fixes. He then gamely opens his mouth ready for the return.

dex check for catching?: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

He then returns the favor with a fresh morsel as he chews on his own.

chocolate toss: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32 range, Heroes’ Feast

dex check for catching?: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
chocolate toss: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 30 range, Heroes’ Feast


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hp 147/138 (DR 5/B 50/50) | AC 19/13/16 | CMD 19 | F +15 R +9 W +20 (+2 vs enchantments, fear and death effects; immune to sleep) | (Ch: 3/3 S: 10/10 Ex: 2/3 B: 0|0 L1: 5/7|6/6+2/2 L2: 5/7|/6 L3: 5/7|4/6+1/1 L4: 3/5|3/5 L5: 5/5|3/4 L6: 4/4|2/3) | Ini+1 | Senses+20
Skills:
Acro+5,App+11,Bluff+0,Dip+14,Dis+1/11,Escap+16,Heal+8,Know(Arcana+25,Local+ 21,Planes+25,Religion+27,Other+13),Linguis+11,Perf.Wind+3,Prof+6,S.Motives+ 8,SoHand+9,Spellcraft+25,Stealth+1,Concentration+21|+16
Old Half-elf Wizard 3/Cleric (ecclesithurge) 3/Theurge 9 | HR 6 | mage armor 12h, defending bone 10h, see invisibility 4h, heroism 2h, heroes feast 12h

Eidi smiles at the description of the garden, and follows the stare of the Fool when he points to Lashonna. As the story resumes, the half-elf applauds and cheers the Fabler with the others.

When the Outcasts are pushed to profit the opportunity to impress by recalling a story, he looks back and forth at his friends. After a moment of pause, the half-elf stands up and nods at the Prince "Well... if you allow me... this is the story of someone I once met"

The elder coughs and then starts his narrative, but it sounds like the recitation of some time past lyrics "None in the Tercio knew whom that daring and reckless soldier was that to the Legion enlisted... None knew his story, else the Legion imagined that a great sorrow his heart was biting like a wolf"

"Else if who he was someone asked him, with pain and roughness he answered:" Eidi rises his pitch changing then his voice "'I am a man whom fortune wounded with beast claw, I am a Death's boyfriend about to join with strong bond with such a loyal companion'"

"When the blasting most rough was and the fight most ferocious, defending his banner, the soldier advanced... and without fear to the exalted enemy push, he knew to die like a brave and the banner he rescued... And on washing with his blood the burning ground, muttered the soldier with grieving voice:" the elder rises up the pitch once more doing the previous voice "'I am a man whom fortune wounded with beast claw, I am a Death's boyfriend about to join with strong bond with such a loyal companion'"

"When finally he was picked up, within his chest they found a letter and a portrait of a divine woman... That letter read:" once more the bald half-elf tones his voice "'...if ever Pharasma calls you, for me a place reclaim as soon to search you I will go'"

"And with the last kiss that he sent her, his last farewell enshrined him" for a last time Eidi changes his pitch "'For to your side come to see you, my most loyal partner, I made myself boyfriend of Death, I embraced her with strong bond and her love was my banner'"
Perform (oratory): 1d20 ⇒ 15

Eidi smiles bows and calmly sits back down to his chair.

Credits: El novio de la muerte*
*Crazy Spanish stuff follows here


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Roll20 Link- Legacy of Fire | Roll20 Link- Age of Worms

GM Rolls:

1d20 ⇒ 7
1d20 ⇒ 14

It is Lashonna's turn to begin the applause, for the elder half-elf's storytelling. "I quite like the idea of the Love of Death. This is why I attend your festivities, Your Majesty. You manage to find a wonderful array of characters for your table. I am not disappointed in the least."

Zeech raises his glass, first to the Lady Lashonna, then to Eidi. "I think you bested my Fool, when I thought that was not possible."

The Fool openly glowers at Eidi, as he makes his way off the table. "He barely moved! Just stood there, uttering his sappy romantic words... check his teeth! Probably rotting at their roots for all the cloying prose... sheesh..."

The ugly little man is intelligent to shuffle further from Zeech, before deigning to contradict his Lord and Master. He bolts from the room, but returns posthaste, marshalling two manticores this time. Between the two domesticated magical beasts is a huge platter on a sling. On the platter rests a great tojanida shell, filled with a deepening mass of meat.

"Here we are!! Our third course, courtesy of our magnificent chef, Prince Zeech himself!! What you have here is nothing other than Tojbasarrirge!!" The Fabler is very, very careful to pronounce each syllable of the title of your Third Course.

"A rare dish, it consists of an entire tojanida, stuffed with numerous steaks cut from basilisks, which are, in their turn and deep honor, stuffed with tangy breasts of arrowhawks. But wait!! There's more!! Within the very breasts of the arrowhawks rests an entire boned stirge, with exactly three olives impaled on each proboscis. I don't need to tell you that the olives are also stuffed."

The Servants begin their extractions, making sure that each of your plates bears the amalgam of all the meats. As the plates settle before each Banquet Attendee, the social etiquette begins.

Those who partake in the Tojbasarrirge, please make a Bluff check to conceal your disgust, should you want to do so.

Hoff takes advantage of the complicated work of dissecting portions of the Tojbasarrirge to circle the table, and tap on Mortimer's shoulder.

"We've got a moment, and I'm still full of my senses. Let your plate rest for second or two, and join me at a side table. I want to see your strength. We wrestle arms now. Unless your man failed to measure your metal correctly." Hoff shoots a thumb at Ascaria, before moving to said side table, and planting an elbow.

Mortimer, the dwarf Hoff is petitioning you for a best of three arm wrestles. If you accept, please roll three Strength Checks, to oppose Hoff.

Several of the Attendees use the dwarf's challenge as distraction from immediately cutting into their cuts...


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Male, Gnome

Ascaria continues to work on Toris quietly while Eidi tells his story. Pleased that the party has once again proven its supremacy over Zeech and his ilk, he retakes his seat in time for the next course.

Tackle of basilisks, I can’t eat this!

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17

He makes a show of moving it about on his plate a bit, and quaffs a bit more wine as a cover. When Hoff walks up to Mort, he pays keen attention, ready to start buffing or healing or whatever. He does not trust that man. When he hears the proposition, he wonders how Mort will react. Such a random show of strength could go either way, at the whims of Desna. Surely there is some better way of testing strength.

Short of direct assault of course… But then again, a pugilistic duel would certainly go Mort's way. He wonders if he should suggest such a scheme, and decides against ratcheting things up further.

He watches, and waits, avoiding his' food'.


F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

Wow. That is some meat tray. Holy cow.

Solrisa make no effort to disguise that she is not eating, she's eating what she can, delightfully, but also regretting that she is already so full. Nonetheless, she persists. She eats what she can eat, trying at least one of every single different meat that there is.

She only stops nibbling to move over to watch and cheer for Mort.

"Oh, Morty-poo! You're so strong, you can't help but win!" Solrisa smiles and cheers for the giant.


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Male Human Brawler (15), Thief (0)

Mortimer tears up a little as Eidi finishes his story, a barely audible sigh betrays his emotions. He claps with the others, wiping the tear from his eye.

"Not only is my friend Eidi great at reciting stories, but he makes the most scrumptious breakfasts I've ever tasted," he declares proudly, directing the information mostly toward Lady Lashonna.

Mort hovers over his plate, attempting to discern which part of it would be best to dig into first.

Bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Mort's uncharacteristically shaking hands and cringing eyes betray his attempts to hide his complete disgust.

Hoff wrote:
"Let your plate rest for second or two, and join me at a side table. Unless your man failed to measure your metal correctly." Hoff shoots a thumb at Ascaria.

Mortimer nods and immediately stands not giving his plate any further consideration. Nah. Maybe we can make it last for more than just a couple of seconds. "Well, he's not really known for his metal appraising skills," Mortimer jokes, deliberately taking the dwarf too literally.

He plants his elbow across from Hoff's at the table, leaning over it a fair amount in order to do so, and tries to figure out how to engage Hoff's much shorter forearm.

It's like arm wrestling an eight year old.

Strength: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Strength: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Strength: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7


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hp 147/138 (DR 5/B 50/50) | AC 19/13/16 | CMD 19 | F +15 R +9 W +20 (+2 vs enchantments, fear and death effects; immune to sleep) | (Ch: 3/3 S: 10/10 Ex: 2/3 B: 0|0 L1: 5/7|6/6+2/2 L2: 5/7|/6 L3: 5/7|4/6+1/1 L4: 3/5|3/5 L5: 5/5|3/4 L6: 4/4|2/3) | Ini+1 | Senses+20
Skills:
Acro+5,App+11,Bluff+0,Dip+14,Dis+1/11,Escap+16,Heal+8,Know(Arcana+25,Local+ 21,Planes+25,Religion+27,Other+13),Linguis+11,Perf.Wind+3,Prof+6,S.Motives+ 8,SoHand+9,Spellcraft+25,Stealth+1,Concentration+21|+16
Old Half-elf Wizard 3/Cleric (ecclesithurge) 3/Theurge 9 | HR 6 | mage armor 12h, defending bone 10h, see invisibility 4h, heroism 2h, heroes feast 12h

Eidi's eyes shine bright and his chest goes breathless as he notices the Lady Lashonna took interest on his tale. The half-elf sits without even paying attention to the Fool's envious comment.

The elder is already full and starting to feel bad about eating so much food when he is not used to. But this being Zeech's personal dish, the bald man does not want to insult their host and picks up a piece of tojanida.
Bluff: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5
Eidi cannot hide his retching as he eats. He quickly excuses himself the best he can "Mmm... it seems my elderly stomach is not made for such sumptuous long banquets. I think I would better go and see how the challenge goes for my friend Mortimer. I beg your pardon"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34

Without further ado, Eidi stands up and joins the table with Mortimer and Hoff. As the giant's arm tenses up into a brutish mass of muscle, the half-elf compares with his own, then looks at the dwarf "I would rather take attention at that knuckle of yours Sir Hoff. There is a reason we call him the Giant"


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Roll20 Link- Legacy of Fire | Roll20 Link- Age of Worms

The Giant versus the Dwarf draws many eyes to the side table. "Best of three, eh? That way, neither of us can claim luck."

Opposed Strength Check v DC 17: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Within several seconds, Hoff's forearm brings Mortimer's to the table! B'kruss barks his pleasure, with V'russ laughing moments later.

Hoff smiles toothily, and pinwheels his arms, taking in the applause where he can get it. Vulras and Kilraven look on with mild interest, while they abstain from further forkfuls of the Tojbasarrirge.

Toris does his utmost to retain the color in his cheeks, having Miszen's and Ascaria's ministrations to thank, while weakly clapping for Round 1.

"I get you again, and we're done." Hoff struts up to the table, and places his elbow back in prime position for Round 2.

Opposed Strength Check v DC 22: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

The muscled men press hard, and Round 2 draws out three times as long as Round 1. When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, the dwarven wrist gives out, and Mortimer's meat hook drives Hoff's hand into the table, at long last!

This time, the Banquet Attendees are more enthusiastic in their applause, despite the hobgoblins' silence. Mariss hoots loudly, mocking the hobgoblins, while encouraging others to join in. This gets Shag and Montague going, as well as Vulras. The Lady Lashonna perks up, now that the two pugilists are tied.

Hoff seems to understand well enough that the bout is not over, rubbing his wrist to ready himself. "Well done, I must say. That was some power you've got."

Opposed Strength Check v DC 7: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

When the twisted arms resolve their conflict, it is Mortimer's hand beneath Hoff's, and a respectable round of applause rises up in the Banquet Hall. Several onlookers return to their plates, and begin to tease away salvageable pieces of meat.

Hoff doesn't let go of Mortimer's hand, using his current grasp to pull the giant into a bro hug. "You had me worried there, Mauler!" Hoff clasps Mortimer on the shoulder, as he lets the giant's hand go. "You're made of good metal. Not many would step up to a challenge, and do it so publicly. I'm going make you an offer- you want a genuine mercenary life, you come find me and mine. I'll bring you in as an officer, no grunt work for you. Black Stone Wolves could use a man like you." Hoff points a finger towards, but not into, Mortimer's broad chest. "No hurry to answer. You give it some thought. Just don't wait too long. Fresh blood and all."

Mortimer:

Hoff has been made Helpful, through your arm wrestle courtship.

Meanwhile, it's apparent to the Prince that his dish is going over like a bronze-dipped butterfly. Within several bites, Zeech claps his hands. "That's more than enough. It won't do to ruin your appetite, when we've got another two courses coming. Servants!!" The Prince points to everyone's plates, and waves them away, no matter the state of consumption. The Tojbasarrirge disappears from sight, though its smell certainly lingers.

Those of you who sipped the Resinwint, please make a Fortitude Save DC 16 now. Failure, and you suffer a -2 penalty to Wisdom, until further notice.

As the Fourth Course begins, huge covered tureens are brought out. Within shudders a strange purple jelly. The Fabler comes out of hiding to make his pronouncements.

"Observe, good people!! Purple worms are a notorious menace in certain areas of the world, and their propensity for eating everything that moves is known to adventurers far and wide. The tribesmen of old learnt of a way of cooking the poisonous tail sections of the purple so that the poison is neutralized. But the recipe has to be precise in its preparation!! Very precise." As the bowls of shuddering purple glop are placed before each of the guests, the Fabler speaks up again. "I wonder if any of our guests is brave enough to taste the dish before our Prince puts his health at risk for deliciousness..."

As is becoming the trend, most of the Attendees turn towards any and all of the Outcasts, allowing them first pass over their dishes, before they themselves partake.


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Male Human Brawler (15), Thief (0)

On the third round, Mortimer tries but finds his heart is not at all into such contests of strength. He is more than pleased to be able to participate in a distraction that saves everyone from vile plates. He grins at Hoff as he tries to take his arm back from the victorious dwarf, but finds himself sucked into a bro hug.

Hoff wrote:
"You're made of good metal. Not many would step up to a challenge, and do it so publicly. I'm going make you an offer- you want a genuine mercenary life, you come find me and mine. I'll bring you in as an officer, no grunt work for you. Black Stone Wolves could use a man like you."

Mortimer nods, "Black Stone Wolves, sounds interesting! I'll definitely consider it," he says thankfully. At least he seems more well groomed than Osgood... work sounds more interesting too...

He immediately stands to help Eidi into the nearest chair -- the vacant one next to Lady Miszen. "Here, here -- watch your step -- there you go."

Trusting the servants to do their jobs, Mortimer strides back to his chair, waits for the ladies to be seated before taking his own.

Bronze-dipped Butterflies
~~

Fool wrote:
"I wonder if any of our guests is brave enough to taste the dish before our Prince puts his health at risk for deliciousness..."

Mortimer glances at Hoff. "Another three rounds?" He pokes at the purple glop.

"Lady Miszen do you -- do you recognize that spice?" he asks, slowly pushing the bowl away. "I don't think anyone could -- that smell ...," He looks at Zeech gravely. "If I were you, I just would't eat any of that."

He pushes the goo further from him and politely asks a servant for some vegetables.

Even Eligos at least had peanut butter.


F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

1d20 + 18 ⇒ (20) + 18 = 38 Fort vs. wine

Solrisa claps and cheers for Mort, barely faltering when he loses and she congratulates Hoff smartly with a sharp slap on the back.

She walks Mort back to his chair, still smiling. ”You were so good there, Mort! You’ll get them next time!”

And she sits to resume her dinner, the festivities still fascinating her. As the purple jelly is revealed, Solrisa leans forward in her seat as purple is her favorite flavor after cheese and ham.

Grabbing what she hopes is the proper spoon, she bravely rises to meet the jellied dish in a culinary battle. She dips her spoon in and puts it to her mouth.

1d20 + 18 ⇒ (16) + 18 = 34 Fort vs. jelly as needed


Male, Gnome

Fort: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 (I’m also immune to disease in case it’s more than just a poison.)

Ascaria is very pleased, and a bit surprised, at how the arm-wrestling tourney turned out. He wonders idly if Mort threw the last round. After some thought he thinks not, though he has a hard time thinking of the dwarf as stronger than big Mort.

Mort wrote:
”Lady Miszen do you -- do you recognize that spice?” he asks, slowly pushing the bowl away. ”I don't think anyone could -- that smell …,” He looks at Zeech gravely. ”If I were you, I just would't eat any of that.”

Smiling he returns to his seat, scarcely noticing the switch-er-roo that Mort pulls with Eidi. He’s much more concerned with the food in front of him. He adjusts his spectacles and takes a closer look. (Detect Poison & Diagnose Disease through my glasses)

If they register as safe, he pokes at the mass with his fork, ”You certainly do offer the most unusual foods Lord Zeech. Clearly you have spared no expense to entertain us!”

He’ll try an admittedly small bite, ready to reach for the wine as needed. But he's curious... despite Mort's warnings.


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hp 147/138 (DR 5/B 50/50) | AC 19/13/16 | CMD 19 | F +15 R +9 W +20 (+2 vs enchantments, fear and death effects; immune to sleep) | (Ch: 3/3 S: 10/10 Ex: 2/3 B: 0|0 L1: 5/7|6/6+2/2 L2: 5/7|/6 L3: 5/7|4/6+1/1 L4: 3/5|3/5 L5: 5/5|3/4 L6: 4/4|2/3) | Ini+1 | Senses+20
Skills:
Acro+5,App+11,Bluff+0,Dip+14,Dis+1/11,Escap+16,Heal+8,Know(Arcana+25,Local+ 21,Planes+25,Religion+27,Other+13),Linguis+11,Perf.Wind+3,Prof+6,S.Motives+ 8,SoHand+9,Spellcraft+25,Stealth+1,Concentration+21|+16
Old Half-elf Wizard 3/Cleric (ecclesithurge) 3/Theurge 9 | HR 6 | mage armor 12h, defending bone 10h, see invisibility 4h, heroism 2h, heroes feast 12h

Fort: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 21

Eidi taps Mortimer's shoulders when the dwarf ends victorious "Too much distractions in here man..."

The half-elf seems hesitant to accept Mortimer's chair offering, but he risks offending Zeech in the end for an opportunity to sit next to Miszen and Loshanna. Once again the elder leaves the staff over his lap "Ah, excuse me, I don't want to take all of Zeech's attention. I guess I shall well accept Mortimer's invitation to sit here"

Eidi does indeed stick a piece of worm in the fork and eats it "Are you ladies as full as me? I guess I will only try this one..."
Fort: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 22

"It is actually tastier than I thought" the half-elf savors the strange food "Purple worms are terrible menaces. I once met a dwarf that claimed having been swallowed by one of those gargantuan beasts in the Darklands and survived it by cutting it whole from inside out"


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Roll20 Link- Legacy of Fire | Roll20 Link- Age of Worms

GM Rolls:

1d20 ⇒ 5
1d20 ⇒ 4

Mortimer wrote:
"Another three rounds?"

As Mortimer makes his way with Eidi towards Lashonna's end of the table, Hoff shrugs his shoulders, and casually works his way towards Zeech, and the half-elf's recently warmed chair. "Perhaps we will, after the Banquet's done." The dwarf plops down on the chair, leaning forward to examine Eidi's old wine glass for signs of sip.

For a moment, Shag Solomon looks at the unoccupied seat adjacent to the Prince, but settles back down, once it's apparent that the game of musing chairs is afoot.

Mortimer wrote:
"Lady Miszen do you -- do you recognize that spice? I don't think anyone could -- that smell ... If I were you, I just wouldn't eat any of that."

Lady Miszen leans towards Mortimer, her nose wrinkling. "I think it's cardamom. That, or clove. My palate is not as refined as I'd like it to be, especially when the dishes are so exotic."

The Prince looks askance at the giant, while he nods to a Servant nearby to see another portion of vegetables brought to the giant. "Really, Mortimer. If you walked away from everything that smelled off to you, you'd never get laid. Look, your maiden-warrior is diving right in."

Solrisa finds the dish quite lovely, for the meat's preparation. The sauce, and the mixed berry confit, all lend to a very robust mouthful.

"Ooooo, let's toast the Lady Solrisa!! I know just the pour. Fabler, fetch the C'rosch!!"

It takes very little time, as several Servants enter the hall after the Fabler finds them out. The glass bottles are also purple, and chilled to frost. "A local spirit, which echoes blackberries and several spices, it is the big, hairy brother to the Resinwint!"

Fresh glasses are filled, and all raise theirs to the maiden. The Lady Miszen gestures respect, but doesn't sip, as before. Everyone else partakes of the potent pour. Those who drink of the C'rosch, please make a Fortitude Save DC 20.

Ascaria wrote:
"You certainly do offer the most unusual foods Lord Zeech. Clearly you have spared no expense to entertain us!”

Zeech raises his glass in the gnome's direction. "You are very welcome. Not every day one dines on purple worm, eh? You, at least, have the good manners to acknowledge the effort made to see you well fed and well drank."

As the C'rosch flows, so do the words from several Attendees. Kilraven especially. Lord Malaven (Kilraven) becomes a bit louder, and loosens his collar, as he gets comfortable in his chair.

"So, imagine yourselves patrolling the northern coast. Nothing but rain for days, mud under your feet, and the cold has found its way into any cut in your clothes. We were marching for the final outpost, when we noticed we could barely see a dozen yards in front of us. Couldn't see the watchlight, that's for sure. For our fatigue, we failed to notice that we'd been flanked by a guerrilla band of orcs, who used the rain as cover to slip closer to our hind. When the battle broke out, we were outnumbered, five to one. The only thing that evened the odds was the coastline, and being able to push back quick enough to set a line. We fought for hours, you know. Hours. We'd slaughter a good number of orc, they'd fall back, then we'd clash again. I'd lose a few good soldiers each pass, but we bled them slow, and eventually we had ourselves several piles of orc bodies, which became our fortification against further incursions. Ground would have soaked with blood, had the rain not rinsed it clean." Kilraven beckons another fill of C'rosch, then grows quiet.

B'kruss slips into the silence with his own tale of hobgoblin exploits. "Once had to leap a thirty-foot chasm, chasing down a wounded dragon to its lair. Split second calculation, I'll admit, otherwise it would have made the cave entrance, and kept its life. I buried my blade deep in its side, and saw the life drain from its lizard eyes. That hoard was worthy of several Banquets!!"

Stories of braggadocio continue, and several of the Outcasts are encouraged to participate. Should you decide to participate in the storytelling, please roll an Intimidate check. Highest roll will shine.

Eidi wrote:
"Ah, excuse me, I don't want to take all of Zeech's attention. I guess I shall well accept Mortimer's invitation to sit here. Are you ladies as full as me? I guess I will only try this one... It is actually tastier than I thought. Purple worms are terrible menaces. I once met a dwarf that claimed having been swallowed by one of those gargantuan beasts in the Darklands and survived it by cutting it whole from inside out."

The Lady Lashonna pouts her rather full lips. "I am getting full, though I rather enjoy the Prince's wine cellar." The Lady winks at Eidi. "As for your dwarf acquaintance, it's nothing I'd ever brag about. Best strategy for fighting a worm like that? Keep well away. Getting swallowed by some monstrosity like that is pure recklessness. That gets you killed for what? Honor? Glory? Those words must have sounded hollow in the worm's gullet."


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hp 147/138 (DR 5/B 50/50) | AC 19/13/16 | CMD 19 | F +15 R +9 W +20 (+2 vs enchantments, fear and death effects; immune to sleep) | (Ch: 3/3 S: 10/10 Ex: 2/3 B: 0|0 L1: 5/7|6/6+2/2 L2: 5/7|/6 L3: 5/7|4/6+1/1 L4: 3/5|3/5 L5: 5/5|3/4 L6: 4/4|2/3) | Ini+1 | Senses+20
Skills:
Acro+5,App+11,Bluff+0,Dip+14,Dis+1/11,Escap+16,Heal+8,Know(Arcana+25,Local+ 21,Planes+25,Religion+27,Other+13),Linguis+11,Perf.Wind+3,Prof+6,S.Motives+ 8,SoHand+9,Spellcraft+25,Stealth+1,Concentration+21|+16
Old Half-elf Wizard 3/Cleric (ecclesithurge) 3/Theurge 9 | HR 6 | mage armor 12h, defending bone 10h, see invisibility 4h, heroism 2h, heroes feast 12h

Eidi winks an eye to Mortimer as the chairs dance seemed to work good enough.

The half-elf drinks the C'rosch.
Fort DC 20: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34

"I was told the dwarf fought to save his friends Lady Lashonna" Eidi slightly laughs at the elf's words and takes another sip at the C'rosch further loosening his mouth "Still... I adhere with you that wise people shall remain away from worms" the half-elf casts a stare at Lashonna, then Zeech and lastly on Miszen.

Although he keeps an ear on it, the elder is too charmed by Lashonna's close presence to participate in the storytelling. Instead he quickly follows up on his response to the elven woman chaining up with the information he really wants "But I guess there is a time in life we all have to decide we either fight or see our people's fall, isn't it?" Eidi tries his most pleasant smile "I am told you yourself fought a group of heretics here in Alhaster not that long ago Lady Lashonna. What did you fought for? If not Honor and Glory, perhaps friendship commitment like the dwarf of my story?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34


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Male, Gnome
Zeech wrote:
Zeech raises his glass in the gnome's direction. ”You are very welcome. Not every day one dines on purple worm, eh? You, at least, have the good manners to acknowledge the effort made to see you well fed and well drank.”

Ascaria smiles at the man, if a bit thinly, and as he turns another way, slides his fork back down on the table. He’s done with the purple worm, however it tastes. He just doesn’t trust Zeech. He also begs off the C'rosch, mindful that he may need his wits about him yet with this ‘party’. It’s already feeling over-long, and he’s worried about fatigue, though he has plenty of restoration for the party should it come to that.

As various folk tell their stories, Ascaria wonders which of his adventures is most fitting for the audience. In the end, he leans toward his youth, and a simpler life. At an opportune break in the conversation, he begins his own short tale.

”When I was a wee-lad, just learning my trade as it were, I would go down in the mines with the other miners, mostly as I had no parents to tell me it was dangerous!” he grins, remembering those fun days, ”I spent hours down there with the men and women - always careful to stay well out of the way. In those days I had little power, but I could provide light, so I was always casting that little cantrip in the nooks and crannies that were hard to reach by torch or lantern.”

”A real help to the miners I was, even with that simple trick, for the deep places of the world are a dark place. Well, one day there was a slide, a minor collapse, at the edge of the mine’s deepest shaft, near where I was playing. In a slide, everyone runs, first away, then back, to save those who might not have been quick enough on the running away part of the task.”

”Well, there were two trapped in the slide, a husband and wife team working a seam deep in the earth. They were, are, both exceptional miners, who just got unlucky that day. The digging began immediately, and the woman was brought out first. A bit bruised to be sure, but whole, on the whole, and breathing. It took rather longer to peal the man from beneath all that dirt and rock.”

”I threw light here and there, and even created a little water for the miners to drink in their increasingly shorter breaks as they struggled to reach the man still pinned below. But reach him they did and he was alive!” Ascaria beams, very nearly glowing as he sometimes does when he’s very happy, or summoning a particularly powerful spell.

”His foot and ankle were mangled, and he couldn’t walk - which was a real problem where we were in the mine. Getting him to the surface in one piece was going to be a feat of engineering. Meanwhile the man was in pain, so much pain! As the miners made plans for the ascent, I moved in closer to provide a little water for the man, to at least try and ease his suffering a little, when I found I had a greater power than that to offer.”

”I took his foot in my hands, and in one quick motion, straightened it, and healed it, all with a touch so light he didn’t notice it but for the cessation of the pain. In a short time, he stood, and found he was able to put weight on it. It was still tender, and it would be a while before he was well enough to go back into the earth, but he was well enough to hobble out of that mine - intact.”

’Ascaria,' he said, ’you are better than any mine canary we’ve ever had!’, and that’s how I got my nickname, Canary!”

Ascaria beams at his audience, hoping they enjoyed the tale half as much as he enjoyed remembering it. He’d earned a small pouch of gold from the miners guild for that one, which he lost at the gambling table, though it took hours of fun to do so.


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F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

1d20 + 18 ⇒ (6) + 18 = 24 Fort (C'rosch)

Solrisa very much delights in the drink for her. She thinks it's lovely that she is acknowledged though she doesn't understand why. Nonetheless, she partakes.

Solrisa listens to both Eidi and Ascaria, not going to interrupt. She smiles and laughs and offers her own story.

"Now I don't know if any of you know my sister, Rae, but she's just a lovely, kind person and my best friend. But it wasn't always that way. We were sisters and sometimes we fought and although I was always wrong, she always forgave me," Solrisa starts sweetly, remembering her sister with fondness.

"It was the last day of Snow and Creams, which means Mum would take us for the magically cold Tazelwyrm milk and shaved ice. I love it. My sister, Rae, loved it too. But she ate hers fast...which caused her head to hurt, very much. And because her head hurt, she took my frozen Tazelwyrm frozen cream and threw it on the ground! She didn't want me to get hurt! Although I wanted the it, I'm glad she saved me. I thought I might get mad at her for ruining my dessert, but no, she was just saving me." Solrisa beams around, happy with her story.

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 Intimidate


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Male Human Brawler (15), Thief (0)
Eidi wrote:
"Too much distractions in here man..."

"Maybe just the one," Mortimer says helping Eidi into the chair between the ladies, then with his staff.

Solrsia wrote:
She walks Mort back to his chair, still smiling. ”You were so good there, Mort! You’ll get them next time!”

Mortimer shakes his head, confused by Solrisa's apparent pugnaciousness. "That was -- that was getting to know someone. It was fun!" he says, stopping to look her in the eye. "The greatest victory is that which requires no battle." He waits for her to seat herself, then takes his own seat.

He cringes when Sol, Eidi and Ascaria partake of the Purple. Nope. Already had my worm quota for the day... He stares at the purple glop.

... I could really use some grilled mackerel.

Lady Miszen wrote:
Lady Miszen leans towards Mortimer, her nose wrinkling. "I think it's cardamom. That, or clove. My palate is not as refined as I'd like it to be, especially when the dishes are so exotic."

He takes one sniff of the C'rosch, and decides it doesn't go with mushrooms or cabbage. Not even trout were any to be offered. He places it even farther away from where he placed the purple glop.

Mortimer nods. "'Exotic'. I've heard that about 'licorice'. I suspect it doesn't go all that well with vegetables either, though."

Kilraven wrote:
"I'd lose a few good soldiers each pass, but we bled [ the orcs ] slow, and eventually we had ourselves several piles of orc bodies, which became our fortification against further incursions."

Mortimer chomps on a chard salad as Kilraven speaks, and nods appreciatively. Between mouthfuls of red veined green he says, "A fort of dead orcs, then? Wow!"

B'pigeon wrote:
"Once had to leap a thirty-foot chasm, chasing down a wounded dragon to its lair."

He is less than impressed with B'kruss's tale. I have been there, done that. Only ... more involved.

He stops eating completely when Ascaria speaks, just so the crunching of various cruciferous vegetables do not impede his ability to hear what the fair gnome has to say.

Ascaria wrote:
”... I took his foot in my hands, and in one quick motion, straightened it, and healed it, all with a touch so light he didn’t notice it but for the cessation of the pain. In a short time, he stood, and found he was able to put weight on it. It was still tender, and it would be a while before he was well enough to go back into the earth, but he was well enough to hobble out of that mine - intact.”

Mortimer claps, truly impressed. "Wow! I've never heard you talk about that before! That was really -- I never knew that happened! You never talk about -- your past! You should feel free to do it more often!" He never talks about the mines... Hope it is not the Big Hairy Brother that's doing the talking...

Eidi wrote:
" [ ... the Dwarf and the Gargantuan Worm Beast ... ] "

Mortimer becomes aware of the fact that some of the cabbages provided to him could have been more fresh. He feels the telltale sign deep in his gut as it rumbles slightly.

Lady Lashonna wrote:
"Getting swallowed by some monstrosity like that is pure recklessness. That gets you killed for what? Honor? Glory? Those words must have sounded hollow in the worm's gullet."

Mortimer frowns. "Indeed. It would have been better had they just used a Potion of Gaseous Form to escape that wormy fate," he says with some authority, speaking from experience. "Of course, it would have been best if they had never have had to deal with an such an ordeal in the first place."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (9) + 17 = 26

He pushes his plate away, resigned to feigning fullness for the rest of the evening event.


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Roll20 Link- Legacy of Fire | Roll20 Link- Age of Worms

GM Rolls:

1d20 ⇒ 5
1d20 ⇒ 12
1d5 ⇒ 2

Eidi wrote:
"But I guess there is a time in life we all have to decide we either fight or see our people's fall, isn't it? I am told you yourself fought a group of heretics here in Alhaster not that long ago Lady Lashonna. What did you fought for? If not Honor and Glory, perhaps friendship commitment like the dwarf of my story?"

The Lady Lashonna looks upon the half-elf's wizened face, a light smile on her own features. "Oh? Who did you kiss, for someone to tell you such things? Everyone should know their place, don't you think? Heretics seek to disturb the general welfare; no one should tolerate that. Or are you asking me who my friends are?"

Ascaria wrote:
”’Ascaria,' he said, ’you are better than any mine canary we’ve ever had!’, and that’s how I got my nickname, Canary!”

The Table enjoys the gnome's storytelling, for the most part. The hobgoblins increase the audibility of their purple worm consumption, uninterested in origin stories such as Ascaria's. The others at the Table seem genuinely interested in hearing the tale of the mines to its conclusion.

Hemriss speaks up. "They didn't actually cage you, did they? I can only imagine your treatment at the dirty hands of miners."

Captain Vulras responds. "Come now, miners are the salt of the earth. Sure, they must enjoy their drink after they clean up, but mining is serious work. The darkness is the great equalizer, and our Ascaria here sounds like quite the ally."

Shag Solomon raises a glass. "Oh, he had a sterling reputation about Diamond Lake. I knew several of the miners, myself. They professed their good fortune to have a healer among them. Saved them from having to pay the local priest for his healing."

The Prince perks up when Shag finishes his thought. "It would stand to reason that your local church of Diamond Lake was erected to honor my Father, no? I would hope you paid your respects there, of course." Zeech looks Ascaria over, his eyelids somewhat heavier for the C'rosch.

Solrisa wrote:
"She didn't want me to get hurt! Although I wanted the it, I'm glad she saved me. I thought I might get mad at her for ruining my dessert, but no, she was just saving me."

Solrisa's story receives its own 'respects', as several Attendees smile, and nod at the conclusion of the maiden's contribution.

Zeech makes no effort to stifle a laugh. "You certainly subvert expectations, Solrisa. We're all discussing matters of life and death, and here you regale us with a simpleton's take on spoiled sweets. Your sister sounds intimidating, at least."

Mortimer wrote:
"Of course, it would have been best if they had never have had to deal with an such an ordeal in the first place."

The giant once again rises above in his own storytelling of escaping the digestive tract of a great worm.

Kilraven's normally nonchalant facial expression has turned to one of admiration. "Not many would put themselves up to such risk, as hardly any would walk away from such danger. Was it your plan to gut the beast from the inside, knowing you had a way out?" Lord Malaven seems genuinely interested in the answer.

Mortimer wrote:
He pushes his plate away, resigned to feigning fullness for the rest of the evening event.

When Mortimer pushes his plate away first, it doesn't take long for others to do so, as well. Servants begin to clear the table of your Fourth Course, making way for the Fifth, and Final, Course.

The smell of cloves, honey, and cinnamon wafts through as a single, black manticore enters with a nearly eight-foot-tall cake. The cake itself is shaped like a ziggurat, but crowned with a marzipan figure of Zeech surrounded by light and with angel’s wings.

Everyone applauds loudly as the cake is levered onto the table, but as they do, the cake begins to fall apart. Large rents appear on the side, and the marzipan Zeech begins to list. Suddenly, the marzipan Zeech topples, sliding down the side of the cake in an avalanche of delectable frosting to strike the table hard enough that the head snaps off!

It rolls across the table to land in Eidi’s lap.

The caketastrophe causes a few stifled chuckles and giggles, but for the most part the Attendees do an admirable job covering their mirth. The hate in Zeech's eyes is palpable, as he looks across the table at all in attendance.

Bluff Checks, if you're so inclined...


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Male, Gnome
GM Rat Sass wrote:

Hemriss speaks up. "They didn't actually cage you, did they? I can only imagine your treatment at the dirty hands of miners."

Captain Vulras responds. "Come now, miners are the salt of the earth. Sure, they must enjoy their drink after they clean up, but mining is serious work. The darkness is the great equalizer, and our Ascaria here sounds like quite the ally."

Shag Solomon raises a glass. "Oh, he had a sterling reputation about Diamond Lake. I knew several of the miners, myself. They professed their good fortune to have a healer among them. Saved them from having to pay the local priest for his healing."

The Prince perks up when Shag finishes his thought. "It would stand to reason that your local church of Diamond Lake was erected to honor my Father, no? I would hope you paid your respects there, of course." Zeech looks Ascaria over, his eyelids somewhat heavier for the C'rosch

Still quite pleased with himself, Ascaria tries to answer all the questions and comments as they come in. ”No, no cage, nothing like that. The miners are rough, but gentle in their own way. I was, if anything, their mascot. As the good Captain says, the darkness is quite an equalizer.”

He nods to Shag Solomon, a little concerned about him bringing up the local church, an entity with whom he did not always see eye to eye. But when the Prince chimes in, he gets truly nervous, ”Oh yes, I was there every feast day. Of course, I did not know the church was dedicated to your father at the time, having not met you yet, or I would have given him the honor due. As for the healing, the priests didn’t like going into the mine.” He shrugs trying to look innocent.

Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14 (To try and remember some anecdote about his father from his few times in church.)
Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28 (He did go to church on the required feast days, but never any other time, unless he had to. So while he’s not lying, he is stretching the truth.)

When the caketastrophe occurs, Ascaria, at first, thinks it’s part of the entertainment, continues to applaud, and looks for something to come crawling out of the confectionary. When it’s clear from Zeech’s face that this was unintended, he wipes the smile from his face and grows quiet, waiting to see how Zeech will respond.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14 (To hide his smile and look cool.)


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hp 147/138 (DR 5/B 50/50) | AC 19/13/16 | CMD 19 | F +15 R +9 W +20 (+2 vs enchantments, fear and death effects; immune to sleep) | (Ch: 3/3 S: 10/10 Ex: 2/3 B: 0|0 L1: 5/7|6/6+2/2 L2: 5/7|/6 L3: 5/7|4/6+1/1 L4: 3/5|3/5 L5: 5/5|3/4 L6: 4/4|2/3) | Ini+1 | Senses+20
Skills:
Acro+5,App+11,Bluff+0,Dip+14,Dis+1/11,Escap+16,Heal+8,Know(Arcana+25,Local+ 21,Planes+25,Religion+27,Other+13),Linguis+11,Perf.Wind+3,Prof+6,S.Motives+ 8,SoHand+9,Spellcraft+25,Stealth+1,Concentration+21|+16
Old Half-elf Wizard 3/Cleric (ecclesithurge) 3/Theurge 9 | HR 6 | mage armor 12h, defending bone 10h, see invisibility 4h, heroism 2h, heroes feast 12h

Eidi cheers both Ascaria and Solrisa stories with an applause "I was wondering for long now why you were called Canary"

When Mortimer completes his own depiction of the large worm combat the half-elf opens his eyes wide in rememberance "Oh yeah, that was most impressive, you need guts to fight in there. Every adventurer should carry one of those gas potions"

But Eidi does not forget Lashona and he comes back to her as soon as he can "You are an intriguing woman Lady Lashona. And a very difficult one to talk with. I had to perform many humiliating acts of entertainment to have my opportunity to pass you that question..."

The half-elf observes the cake coming and points to those around him, specially to Miszen "Nice ziggurat. I wonder where does Zeech get his inspiration from"

And then he turns back to Lashona "Yes, I do agree order is important to an extent, and yes, I was somehow trying to guess who were your friends at that time" the half-elf smiles back to her "But for most I was trying to decipher whether if I have any opportunity to become one of those friends. Oooops!!!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (19) + 0 = 19
The elder is interrupted by the caketastrophe and looks at it in his lap with surprise, then he tries to open wide his smile "Well... I love the present Lord Zeech" the half-elf takes a portion of the marzipan with a finger and tastes it at mouth "How did you know I am a fan of marzipan?"


F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

I'm offering the bluff check, but I don't think Solrisa needs it. She wouldn't laugh at this. She's not the kind to laugh at the misfortune of others.

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18 Bluff

Solrisa would help if she is close enough, offering napkin and hands to clean things up.


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Male Human Brawler (15), Thief (0)
Lashonna wrote:
"Oh? Who did you kiss, for someone to tell you such things? Everyone should know their place, don't you think? Heretics seek to disturb the general welfare; no one should tolerate that. Or are you asking me who my friends are?"
Eidi wrote:
"You are an intriguing woman Lady Lashona. And a very difficult one to talk with. I had to perform many humiliating acts of entertainment to have my opportunity to pass you that question..."

OOohh, wow! What is the score now? Lady Lashonna: 7*, Eidi: 0. She carefully deflects every question he's asked. Maybe he's delving too hard. Maybe he should instead ask her where she got her head gear.

He thinks back on the Fool's story:

Fool wrote:
"As far as the eye can see, stone structures, and human rabble, gutter smells and colorless sky."

I wonder if Sir Sullen is really Zeech, and Lady Lashonna is the Dryad of that story.

"I heard about this forest once" his voice becomes soft and bright as he reminisces, "-- an endlessly verdant canopy dappled with pastel shades of orange red, yellow and blue. Dark red bark clad trees so big you could drive Zeech's carriage through them -- not that any would dare touch them. This forest -- full of fey magical creatures -- was so enchanted that no one lucky enough to even stumble upon it can enter without the very blessing of the forest herself."

He pauses, lifting his C'rosch filled glass in a gesture of respect, before placing it back on the table without actually partaking.

"It is said that if you stay long enough, you succumb to all of the intoxicating charms of the enchanted forest, growing old there never wanting to leave her alluring gaze or to be forgotten by her. To enter unwelcome is to never be seen or heard from again. Not a forest that I would want to pick a battle with."

* He's given Lashonna at least 3 extra points for the possession of stunning grace, and 1 for the tiara.

Shag wrote:
"Oh, [Ascaria] had a sterling reputation about Diamond Lake. I knew several of the miners, myself. They professed their good fortune to have a healer among them. Saved them from having to pay the local priest for his healing."
Zeech wrote:
"It would stand to reason that your local church of Diamond Lake was erected to honor my Father, no? I would hope you paid your respects there, of course."
Ascaria wrote:
"Oh yes, I was there every feast day..."

Mortimer, this time more somberly, quietly reminisces about Diamond Lake, her smithys and armories, and the mine shaft leading to the Triad's strongholds sporting the products of Osgood's very own forges.

They were all into Asmodeus.

"I assure you," Mortimer growls authoritatively. "All of Diamond Lake paid the church it's due respect -- at least they did up until it was destroyed."

Kilraven wrote:
"Not many would put themselves up to such risk, as hardly any would walk away from such danger. Was it your plan to gut the beast from the inside, knowing you had a way out?"

Mortimer grins and nods solemnly. "If you know Heaven and you know Earth, you may make your victory complete. Had my friends not already killed it, that indeed would have been my contribution."

~~~

GMSass wrote:
Everyone applauds loudly as the cake is levered onto the table, but as they do, the cake begins to fall apart. Large rents appear on the side, and the marzipan Zeech begins to list. Suddenly, the marzipan Zeech topples, sliding down the side of the cake in an avalanche of delectable frosting to strike the table hard enough that the head snaps off!

Bluff: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 3 + 2 = 15 +Feast

Mortimer laughs out loud and stands, brushing the splattered frosting and nutty confection off of him, then applauds. "Oh, very good, very good! Well played!" he says, trying to compliment the Prince for the caketastrophe as if he, like Ascaria, also thought it was part of the entertainment. He stops laughing and catches his breath. "Woo! For a minute there I... he pants, while pointing to the cake remains "I was worried a worm was going to pop out of there." He turns to Lady Mahuudril and asides, "There are these parties, you know..."

Ignoring Zeech's demeanor and still standing, Mort glances at his blue yo-yo as if it were a sundial before quickly returning it to his pocket. "Oh, my! Where does the time go?" He starts to head his way toward Eidi's side, hoping to lead some of the dinner party off the premises.


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Roll20 Link- Legacy of Fire | Roll20 Link- Age of Worms

GM Rolls:

1d20 ⇒ 9
1d20 ⇒ 7

Ascaria:

In Diamond Lake, a popular gossip watered itself down fiercely- local girls who would seek to avoid naming local boys when they found themselves with child would instead name Asmodeus himself as the likely Father. This usually set up an unhealthy tension between the parents and the pregnant. Maculate Conception...

Ascaria wrote:
"Oh yes, I was there every feast day. Of course, I did not know the church was dedicated to your father at the time, having not met you yet, or I would have given him the honor due. As for the healing, the priests didn’t like going into the mine."
Mortimer wrote:
"I assure you, all of Diamond Lake paid the church it's due respect -- at least they did up until it was destroyed."

Prince Zeech rolls his inebriated eyes, as Outcasts speak out. He doesn't even lift an eyebrow when the giant mentions the destruction of Diamond Lake's Church of Asmodeus...

Eidi wrote:
"You are an intriguing woman Lady Lashonna. And a very difficult one to talk with. I had to perform many humiliating acts of entertainment to have my opportunity to pass you that question...But for most I was trying to decipher whether if I have any opportunity to become one of those friends."

The Lady Lashonna cocks her head, a smile that would otherwise distort from the odd angle looking quite elegant on her features. "I certainly didn't intend on frustrating you. I frequently find myself embattled with would-be suitors and petitioners, so perhaps I should consider lowering my conversational defenses more often. I do appreciate all you've had to suffer to find yourself at my side. What woman wouldn't?"

Mortimer wrote:
"There are these parties, you know..."

Mahuudril utters a low laugh. "I do." She sips her C'rosch, allowing a very red tongue to alight upon the rim of her glass, and make lazy circles, before taking another sip.

Eidi wrote:
""Well... I love the present Lord Zeech! How did you know I am a fan of marzipan?"

The sinister gnome is caught with his jaw mostly descended, as the half-elf steps in to lighten the dour mood of the Prince. When several other Attendees laugh at Eidi's pronouncement, Zeech's baleful stare softens into brooding silence. As the Servants do their best to dissect the cake and see everyone served, the destruction of the masterpiece becomes a much less defined debaucle.

Shag declines his cake, speaking on headiness and hand-eye coordination. Everyone else seems quite taken with the baken. Kahve is carted out, and the evening's dinner winds down. Several Attendees also avail themselves of pipes and cigars, stepping away from the Table to light up.

Mortimer wrote:
"Oh, my! Where does the time go?"

Oddly, Mortimer's pronouncement coincides with a brisk hand clapping. The Ominous Fabler is once again at something. This time, his hand claps bring more Servants, and some Guards, to break down the main table by sections, and remove them from the Grand Hall. This leaves the expanse available for what it was intended to host- a dance.

With the conclusion of the great feast, the Fabler calls for the dance of the dead, the traditional Alhaster close to important ceremonies. Typically, dancers dressed as the dead founding fathers of the city perform the dance, but this time the Fabler commands his skeletal minions to do the duty. As well, a small chamber orchestra sets up, and begins to perform adequately on their various instruments, all of them stringed.

Zeech, still angry at the failure of the fifth course, does not take part, and instead watches silently from a throne.

Toris wastes no time in entreating the Lady Miszen to a waltz. Captain Vulras does his best to uphold chivalric standards, and asks if Solrisa would enjoy a twirl.

At the same time, Mariss moves toward the Lady Lashonna, obvious in his intent to take the woman onto the dance floor...

With the sound of music filling the Hall, smaller groups break off to speak away from the musicians. Hemriss joins Zeech on the dais, where she speaks inaudibly, while the Prince listens, and looks on.

...

After watching a bit of the dexterous entertainment, Zeech stands, and departs the Grand Hall. The skeletons soften their song, but do not stop. Nary a word from the choir of heads above, as the Prince utters not a single word. The Attendees applaud the Prince with varied gusto, before accepting their cues to follow assigned Servants back to the awaiting carriages.

The dwarf Hoff makes a point to cuff Mortimer on the shoulder, demonstrating his reach, but barely grazes the giant's shoulder, for poor aim. "You remember what I told you. You lookin' for work down the line, look me up."

B'kruss and V'russ walk behind Eri, a little too closely, occasionally barking something in Goblin tongue to amuse the other.

The Lady Miszen seeks out Ascaria as representative of his team, talking while walking out to the carriages. "How much longer will you remain in Alhaster, do you think? I wonder if our paths will cross in the days to come." Toris happily interjects. "Something tells me it won't be hard to keep track of this illustrious band of yours. Made a name for yourselves in Egorian, already making waves in Alhaster!!"

Shag Solomon and Montague Marat find themselves towards the back of the mass, slow walking in case the Prince makes a farewell showing on the steps of the Palace.

The Lady Lashonna takes Eidi's arm, and follows the flock en masse to the Vertiginous Terrace, and the entrance road.

"Your group intrigues me, master Eidi. I would host you in Mistwall, in two days' time, if you're still visiting Alhaster for the duration. We might speak more freely within my own Manor. Some say that my wines are fit to compete with the Prince's."


Male, Gnome
GM Rat Sass wrote:
Prince Zeech rolls his inebriated eyes, as Outcasts speak out.

”Oh, right!” Ascaria smacks his forehead, ”Women afraid to name the fathers would chose Asmodeus as the father. I forgot all about that! I’m so sorry your father didn’t want you.” He adds sincerely and full of pity.

But it doesn’t last long as the dancing commences. As with most things, Ascaria is quite content to join in the fun, and asks Lady Miszen to dance as well, if he can get past Toris. He’s not making any moves, simply trying to enjoy the moment with his new friends. Either way, he claps along with the music - when appropriate, and even sometimes when it’s not.

When Zeech departs, Ascaria applauds with the others, though perhaps for different reasons. For with the absence of Zeech, Ascaria knows they can finally leave this macabre hall with the floating and not so floating undead. In the end, he tries to keep up with Mort and Eidi, not wanting to split up too much.

“GM Rat Sass” wrote:
The Lady Miszen seeks out Ascaria as representative of his team, talking while walking out to the carriages. "How much longer will you remain in Alhaster, do you think? I wonder if our paths will cross in the days to come." Toris happily interjects. "Something tells me it won't be hard to keep track of this illustrious band of yours. Made a name for yourselves in Egorian, already making waves in Alhaster!!”

”Of course my friends! Our paths must surely cross again in the by and by. We shall be in town, er, a few days. At least. I think.” he looks to the others and shrugs, ”A lot depends on things outside our control really.” he smiles and lets them know where the party is staying, being pretty sure their enemies already know that tidbit so it’s safe to share freely.

“Lady Lashonna” wrote:
"Your group intrigues me, master Eidi. I would host you in Mistwall, in two days' time, if you're still visiting Alhaster for the duration. We might speak more freely within my own Manor. Some say that my wines are fit to compete with the Prince’s.”

Ascaria grins like a madman and nods along, hoping Eidi will accept.


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hp 147/138 (DR 5/B 50/50) | AC 19/13/16 | CMD 19 | F +15 R +9 W +20 (+2 vs enchantments, fear and death effects; immune to sleep) | (Ch: 3/3 S: 10/10 Ex: 2/3 B: 0|0 L1: 5/7|6/6+2/2 L2: 5/7|/6 L3: 5/7|4/6+1/1 L4: 3/5|3/5 L5: 5/5|3/4 L6: 4/4|2/3) | Ini+1 | Senses+20
Skills:
Acro+5,App+11,Bluff+0,Dip+14,Dis+1/11,Escap+16,Heal+8,Know(Arcana+25,Local+ 21,Planes+25,Religion+27,Other+13),Linguis+11,Perf.Wind+3,Prof+6,S.Motives+ 8,SoHand+9,Spellcraft+25,Stealth+1,Concentration+21|+16
Old Half-elf Wizard 3/Cleric (ecclesithurge) 3/Theurge 9 | HR 6 | mage armor 12h, defending bone 10h, see invisibility 4h, heroism 2h, heroes feast 12h

"You honor me thinking such an elder could be trying to pose as a pretender Lady Lashonna" Eidi exacerbates being stooped over "We here know the truthiness of time as it passes. It is comforting to share those thoughts with someone that might understand. If that is your case, perhaps we will have time to talk about it at another moment. Now... if you would excuse me, I have to fix this somehow..." the half-elf stands up and shows the marzipan stuck at his tunic. He then looks for a calm room in the mansion to clean himself up, perhaps profiting to have an interesting glimpse of what is around.
Stealth: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
Perception: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (14) + 20 = 34

Once in a calm place, he uses prestidigitation and mending to clean up himself before he comes back to the dancing hall. There he keeps his small-talk with everyone who might seem interested and otherwise enjoys the dance and music.

As the evening wraps up and Lady Lashonna takes him the elder nods to her and smiles wide "Oh! I am sure Mortimer and Ascaria will be very happy to try out that wine. We are probably staying after all. Ok, let's meet in a couple of days. My Lady" Eidi attempts to take the elf's hand and kneel to have a kiss at her hand "There are sure businesses that will mutually benefit each other if we can talk them in a more relaxed environment"


F Half Elf:
HP 126, F18R14W15,Dip+13,Fly+6,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+17, Spllcrft +17,UMD +21

Sorry for the delay, my head has been up my ass.

Solrisa switches between smiling, frowning, and clapping over Eidi’s plight and how he is handling it. She helps Eidi get cleaned up, and then escorts him to the dance. She claps and oohs at the skeletal dance, hanging with Eidi for the duration.

“Lady Lashonna” wrote:
"Your group intrigues me, master Eidi. I would host you in Mistwall, in two days' time, if you're still visiting Alhaster for the duration. We might speak more...”

Solrisa smiles a big smile, but resists hugging Lady Lashonna and accepting the offer, allowing Eidi to do the accepting. And she claps gleefully when he does accept, finally able to release her joy at the offer and allow the anticipation to build up.

Though she is still very full, she is still quite amped up from the party and wonders what’s next.


Male Human Brawler (15), Thief (0)
GmSass wrote:
Oddly, Mortimer's pronouncement coincides with a brisk hand clapping. The Ominous Fabler is once again at something. This time, his hand claps bring more Servants, and some Guards, to break down the main table by sections, and remove them from the Grand Hall. This leaves the expanse available for what it was intended to host- a dance.

"Really?! That was so hard?!"

GmSass wrote:
With the conclusion of the great feast, the Fabler calls for the dance of the dead, the traditional Alhaster close to important ceremonies. Typically, dancers dressed as the dead founding fathers of the city perform the dance, but this time the Fabler commands his skeletal minions to do the duty. As well, a small chamber orchestra sets up, and begins to perform adequately on their various instruments, all of them stringed.

Non-party attenders are attempting to dance...

Mortimer looks as to whom is dancing with whom.

Ascaria should cut in on Toris... Solrisa's in harmless hands... I pity Mariss. Lashonna will take him out at the knees... That would be way too kind...

GmSass wrote:
Hemriss joins Zeech on the dais, where she speaks inaudibly, while the Prince listens, and looks on.

He turns to Lady Mahuudril. "Would you like to ... dance?"

He dances with himself if necessary, surreptitiously attempting to attain a closer proximity to Hemriss and Zeech for eavesdropping purposes.

Perception: 1d20 + 24 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 24 + 2 = 28 +Breakfast?

Post Dancing

Hoff wrote:
The dwarf Hoff makes a point to cuff Mortimer on the shoulder, demonstrating his reach, but barely grazes the giant's shoulder, for poor aim. "You remember what I told you. You lookin' for work down the line, look me up."

Mortimer winces at the dwarf's effort -- mainly because no one else ever bothers. He nods solemnly. "I promise!"

Lady Miszen to Ascaria wrote:
"How much longer will you remain in Alhaster, do you think? I wonder if our paths will cross in the days to come."
Toris wrote:
Toris happily interjects. "Something tells me it won't be hard to keep track of this illustrious band of yours. Made a name for yourselves in Egorian, already making waves in Alhaster!!"

He cares not to interject in the banter of the little people, should any be put out by his nigh 'giant size'. Besides, he knows Ascaia has got this, being a little person himself.

Mort falls in line behind Eidi, failing to offer a supportive arm before Lashonna.

Lashonna to Eici wrote:
"Your group intrigues me, master Eidi. I would host you in Mistwall, in two days' time, if you're still visiting Alhaster for the duration. We might speak more freely within my own Manor. Some say that my wines are fit to compete with the Prince's."

OHH, SCORE! Wait, what?! She wants the lot of us too?!

He makes small talk with Eri while the Elder goes to clean his tunic.

"Did you see that 1800 year old wine, er ... cask? Who does that?"

Eidi wrote:
As the evening wraps up and Lady Lashonna takes him the elder nods to her and smiles wide "Oh! I am sure Mortimer and Ascaria will be very happy to try out that wine. We are probably staying after all. Ok, let's meet in a couple of days. My Lady" Eidi attempts to take the elf's hand and kneel to have a kiss at her hand "There are sure businesses that will mutually benefit each other if we can talk them in a more relaxed environment"

Mortimer rushes to help the elder Eidi up from his knees. "Indeed," he says supportively, "Give it some time, maybe. Say, two days?"

That's enough time to check out the abandoned church !

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