"Thravum, may this Deepflagon Brown Ale quench your thirst for battle when there is no more to be had."
"errr...mmm...thanks...not bad...human..." Thravum appears to have changed hue and is quietly staring down at the tankard clasped in both hands. He's blinking occasionally.
"Thravum, my man. I propose a drinking challenge. Who can hold his ale best? What do you say?
"It's your pointy eared ass. heh." Without waiting for an answer or any formalities Thravum drains his tankard.
"Another round for me and me friends!". You weren't asked.
"Eight gold royals? Which crown are you allegiant to? I'm fairly certain eight of my coin could purchase the entire deer!"
"Four royals buys a pig, fer sooth, but piggies take less finding and killing. By Gruumsh, Ya drive a hard bargain! I throws in the meat fer the same price."
...I throws in the meat fer the same price.
"Well, that seems reasonable but I don't need that much meant at the current moment. If I were travelling soon perhaps. It may be a moot point anyway. I'm looking to winterize some robes, boots, and a bedroll. A pair of gloves and a hat would also be useful. I may need something larger than a deer hide.
If you were to find something larger for me by the end of the week I'd pay a fair market value for the pelt plus an additional 25 percent for your expeditiousness. How does that sound?"
** spoiler omitted **
Thravum generally spends most of his mornings in the training yard, stripped to the waist and pouring flagons for himself from the first bout to the last. He seems to be learning how to fight using both hands and how to defend himself without using a shield. He takes perverse joy in having someone get through his guard. He'll fight anyone and everyone that shows themselves, blunted, edged, or bare-knuckled.
"Battles are rarely won or lost due to the actions and prowess of an individual. They're won because a group of soldiers is greater than the some of their parts. The ferocity and might of a solider pales in comparison to a well trained organized force that fights as a unit. Whenever possible your attacks should seek to set up the attacks of your comrades. Attack to the head, force your enemy to block high so the solider at your side has an opening to attack the legs. Combat is timing. In the heat of battle you must be ready to call out openings to your comrades when the chaos of the field is too great. Be each others eyes and blades.
You drill in groups of three. Two of you attacking one. "See the openings! See the holes! Force them into what you want!" You practice forcing the defense of your opponent to move away from the zones of attack of your partner. When a successful strike is landed you rotate duties, practicing each role. You practice attacking the enemy together, side by side and flanking.
As you're taking a water break and adjusting your kit, Samuel speaks to you. "There are many times when you're not in a position to attack an enemy directly. You could have been separated from the main force, or them you. You must let your eyes and ears reach out, their reach far exceeds the reach of your weapon. A missed opportunity can be all it takes to lose a battle."
Samuel splits each of you up into groups of four. Two trainees spar while the other two coach. The trainees are not allowed to make any decisions and must do exactly as they're told. It's quite slow and unwieldy at first but eventually, you start to get the hang of it.
You have plenty to thing about on the last jog of the day and the next day, you repeat the same drills over and over and over and over.
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Days 2 and 3 Training Sessions
"What a waste of time. I'll go practice on my own. You look out for number 1 in battle. If everyone watches their own ass and kills what's in front of them, the battle's over. This brotherhood nonsense makes me feel like in a damn temple."
If you were to find something larger for me by the end of the week
"Aye."
Rukkh goes looking for exotic beasts. An owlbear, maybe, or a giant version of a mundane creature.
"Florr, you pulled me from the grasp of that vile creature and brought me back to consciousness. Your love for Storm Surge is quite apparent and so I present you... We may need this extra capacity for belongings as the months get colder, and with another horse...
Florr gasps and jumps to her feet. "Oh wow, Oleksandr! You owe no debt to me, but I am so happy to accept your gift!" She runs her hand along the fine leather work. "I cannot wait to try thus out. Storm Surge and I will soon be masters in the saddle!"
She hugs him rather awkwardly with her long arms then toasts him. "A pack horse that get along with Storm Surge is a fantastic idea as well. We do have that wagon." She banter about what future adventures may entail.
Olias attempts to negotiate a cheaper price for the rings:
[dice=persuasion Warmth] d20+6
[dice=persuasion Evasion] d20+6
Inscribe Rune: “Inarth” Returning.
1500g and an Emerald worth at least 50g:
An object returns to your hand when the runes shape is traced into your hand. A circular shape, with a slight spiral with a triangle in the middle. Returns to your hand at a speed for 1ftxgp worth of emerald (minimum of 50ft per round).
"Do you know how to create any that may imbue transmutation or evocation abilities in an object? Something that could create light or lights perhaps?"
"Where did you learn your craft? Quite literally crafting a spell into a physical object. It's fascinating to me. Who would you consider the masters of this art? Did they ever transcribe their knowledge into texts?"
Olias declines the rings, and inquires about the bracelets of spell storing.
Would you be willing to go any less?
Olias purchases one bracelet for 10,880 gold and a barrel of the Standard Deepflagon Brown Ale, which he will store in his room, for now.
He purchases a tankard (2cp) and repairs his drum (3gp).
He then makes a plan to speak to Oleksander and Florr about possible spells he can add to his bracelet. What should we add? He talks to Florr about something to heal wounds. He asks Olek if he has any defensive spells that would be useful.
He then makes a plan to speak to Oleksander and Florr about possible spells he can add to his bracelet. What should we add? He talks to Florr about something to heal wounds. He asks Olek if he has any defensive spells that would be useful.
"That is a very fine item you have there Olias. Is that one of the ones Quara was selling? You know it may very well have some magic stored inside of it already from the previous owner...by which I mean the owner who had it before Quara likely beat him dead. Take an afternoon to become attuned to it. You might discover if anything is already locked away in there.
"I have a few defensive spells I may be able to store for you in the future when the bracelet needs a recharge. This will take effort on my part, I cannot provide you with an infinite supply of magic, but if it is late in the evening and I still have some energy and it appears that we are safe I will gladly help."
He then makes a plan to speak to Oleksander and Florr about possible spells he can add to his bracelet. What should we add? He talks to Florr about something to heal wounds. He asks Olek if he has any defensive spells that would be useful.
"What a beautiful bracelet! And very handy," Florr says. "I believe a healing spell would be very useful to have stored in that. I can easily cast one into it. My other spells involve lightning damage and pushing the enemy back away from you, and casting a shield of holy protection around yourself. Plus I can make a huge cloud of fog and create water out of the air. Which would you like? I can cast any of them right now!"
arrows
"Grit, I'd like to make a trade." She pulls a gleaming red amulet with a golden chain from her pocket. "I'm very interested in that Eagle great bow. Plus some arrows to go with it." She gives the amulet to Grit to look at, if he wants to examine it closer. "This amulet has practically saved my life more than once. I have been tougher, in my endurance and ability to withstand multiple dangerous wounds. I have also not been subject to feeling the effects of bad smells and sickness. Though this isn't guaranteed, this amulet truly has helped!"
She grins broadly. "What do you say? The amulet for the bow?"
"I think having a backup heal and some other defense would go a long way. Florr? Olek? Think you could put something like that on there?"
** spoiler omitted **Inscribe Rune: “Inarth” Returning.
1500g and an Emerald worth at least 50g:
An object returns to your hand when the runes shape is traced into your hand. A circular shape, with a slight spiral with a triangle in the middle. Returns to your hand at a speed for 1ftxgp worth of emerald (minimum of 50ft per round).
There are many runes that have been passed through generations of dwarven rune-smiths, but every generation there are less of us. Across the landscape of Yoldorr are monoliths, obelisks, menhirs, ancient runestones. They can be found in subterranean caves and inside mountainsides. No one really knows how they got there, or who made them. I believe the earth itself grew them to share its truths. It's laws. They're connected. Ley lines. If you're in tune with the earth you can see them...feel them. Once a rune is learned and studied it's practiced. The thickness of lines, the depth, the proportions..all very fickle. Some materials seem to be destined for certain runes. Some can be drawn in dirt. These are minor runes. They enchant something else with a singular focus or effect. They can be combined, sometimes with extra effects through synergy.
Master Runes are something else entirely. They don't enchant items, they have inherent magic in themselves. Representations of natural forces that are magical channels. They don't enchant an object. They enchant you. Become attuned to you. The closer you become to the rune the more gifts it bestows. These master runes often manifest themselves in symbolically significant ways, like they have their own will. Your companion was wearing a master rune around her neck. She traded me another for...revealing it.
Inarth will bring the object to you at a speed relative to the value of the gem used in it's crafting. I don't know of any distance limitations, but if it meets an obstacle it may struggle to reach you. Lux is a minor rune that sheds a gentle light but I find a bit of a waste when it comes to resources. I think I remember how to draw it though.
"I think having a backup heal and some other defense would go a long way. Florr? Olek? Think you could put something like that on there?"
Florr touches her amulet. It glows blue for an instant, transferring the glow to her fingertips. She touches the bracelet, and the blue glow swirls once around the object before seeming to melt into it.
arrows"Grit, I'd like to make a trade." She pulls a gleaming red amulet with a golden chain from her pocket. "I'm very interested in that Eagle great bow. Plus some arrows to go with it." She gives the amulet to Grit to look at, if he wants to examine it closer. "This amulet has practically saved my life more than once. I have been tougher, in my endurance and ability to withstand multiple dangerous wounds. I have also not been subject to feeling the effects of bad smells and sickness. Though this isn't guaranteed, this amulet truly has helped!"
She grins broadly. "What do you say? The amulet for the bow?"
He nods. "The Bow, 5 quivers of any of the arrows and your archery lessons are free for a good long while."
The night before the Hunt and Harvest Festival is to begin, you are having your evening meal together in the Drunken Horse. It is getting rather late, and Ulumpha’s stew is particularly hearty and filling tonight. You are chatting and laughing and not paying much attention to anything around you.
Suddenly the door of the Lodge slams open. A short, stout creature stumps into the room. You’d call him dwarvish, though he doesn’t look like any dwarf you’ve ever seen… He has dark greenish brown skin, and his half-brushed tangle of thick brown hair is almost like a forest of seaweed. His mustache is like twists of brown coral, and there is a green tattoo on the left side of his face that sticks out like barnacles. Florr leans in. “Oh! That’s a sea dwarf! Very rare that they leave their ships. He must be here for the Festival.”
This sea dwarf walks heavily around the tables, his keen black eyes scanning every person up and down as he passes. When he passes your table, he makes a grunt under his breath - of surprise? Curiousity? Then he continues to the bar. He raises a finger to Hilda, points at a tankard, and sits, still looking around surreptitiously. He grabs a leftover plate of half eaten bread and begins chewing slowly.
As a last minute errand before the festival, Olias asks around town about the value of the Wand of Secrets.
Rune magic seems to exist.....somewhere else...compared to more popular forms of magic. In many ways it's more exact, more ritualistic but in other ways it's something that's more artistic. Something you feel...
"Quite a fascinating vocation. So much of the world is explained via that which we cannot see."
Oleksandr has Inarth inscribed on his staff. He gives the dwarf an emerald worth gold and the money for the basic inscription.
"Read your dirt? Is that some sort of fortune telling?"
"I think having a backup heal and some other defense would go a long way. Florr? Olek? Think you could put something like that on there?"
"Let me see the bracelet."
"Ekpah, ekpabat..."
Oleksandr's body is surrounded by a shimmering silver aura until he touches the bracelet and then it drains off of him like water coming out of a bath. The bracelet glows for a moment and he hands it back.
The night before the Hunt and Harvest Festival is to begin, you are having your evening meal together in the Drunken Horse. It is getting rather late, and Ulumpha’s stew is particularly hearty and filling tonight. You are chatting and laughing and not paying much attention to anything around you.
Suddenly the door of the Lodge slams open. A short, stout creature stumps into the room. You’d call him dwarvish, though he doesn’t look like any dwarf you’ve ever seen… He has dark greenish brown skin, and his half-brushed tangle of thick brown hair is almost like a forest of seaweed. His mustache is like twists of brown coral, and there is a green tattoo on the left side of his face that sticks out like barnacles. Florr leans in. “Oh! That’s a sea dwarf! Very rare that they leave their ships. He must be here for the Festival.”
This sea dwarf walks heavily around the tables, his keen black eyes scanning every person up and down as he passes. When he passes your table, he makes a grunt under his breath - of surprise? Curiousity? Then he continues to the bar. He raises a finger to Hilda, points at a tankard, and sits, still looking around surreptitiously. He grabs a leftover plate of half eaten bread and begins chewing slowly.
*FPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP* Aengus spits out his beer all over Thravum.
"What in the Nine Hells happened to YOU?" he shouts, pointing at the Sea Dwarf.
*FPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP* Aengus spits out his beer all over Thravum.
"What in the Nine Hells happened to YOU?" he shouts, pointing at the Sea Dwarf.
Yarral turns slowly, his black eyes flashing in your direction. You feel a little intimidated, but then, wait - is that a grin? His mustache curls upward in a wide, surprisingly charming grin. "Yar!" he says, rather charmingly. "Me brothuh dwarf! I be a sailor of the great seas, an' I be ragingly glad teh meet yar!" He turns and clumps off the barstool and walks to your table. He sets his tankard down with a thud, grinning at each of you while looking you each of you directly in the eye.
"Now, what be a set o' dwarves, a loverly young lady, and yar fine-lookin' gentlemen sittin' and drinkin' at the same table here? 'Tis a tale of king-size perposhuns, to be sure! One I would be keen to hear, says I." He motions to Hilda. "Me fine lady, a round of yer best ale fer all o' me new friends! On me!"
As a last minute errand before the festival, Olias asks around town about the value of the Wand of Secrets.
Hilda bumps into your on purpose while carrying drinks.
"Haven't seen you around in awhile honey."
Unsure if the dwarves are going to be ornery or jovial towards each other, Oleksandr stands to signal Ulumpha for another round. His primary objective is to get a layout of the room and take hold of his newly acquired, brown mahogany staff. Exquisitely carved to bring out lighter details in the form of geometric patterns mapping the structure of the six major planes. Each plane was then stained with a different tone of oil and where they overlapped the colors did too accordingly. The tones were at their richest at the top of the staff where the wood was carved into six pillars, each pillar a different hue of the dark wood. Inside of the fingers was mounted a milky white crystal.
And after he was done gazing at his new staff again he remembered he was looking about the room and ordering beer, hoping the dwarves weren't going to fight.
*FPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP* Aengus spits out his beer all over Thravum.
"What in the Nine Hells happened to YOU?" he shouts, pointing at the Sea Dwarf.
Yarral turns slowly, his black eyes flashing in your direction. You feel a little intimidated, but then, wait - is that a grin? His mustache curls upward in a wide, surprisingly charming grin. "Yar!" he says, rather charmingly. "Me brothuh dwarf! I be a sailor of the great seas, an' I be ragingly glad teh meet yar!" He turns and clumps off the barstool and walks to your table. He sets his tankard down with a thud, grinning at each of you while looking you each of you directly in the eye.
"Now, what be a set o' dwarves, a loverly young lady, and yar fine-lookin' gentlemen sittin' and drinkin' at the same table here? 'Tis a tale of king-size perposhuns, to be sure! One I would be keen to hear, says I." He motions to Hilda. "Me fine lady, a round of yer best ale fer all o' me new friends! On me!"
"HAH!"Grombar barks, in a way that suggests he slightly too drunk to recognize how loud you're speaking. "Like on a boat? In the OCEAN?" He grabs another from the tray you just ordered. He speaks while drinking in a intelligible muffled gurgle, then he realizes you can't understand him, swallows, and repeats himself. "Why? Did you just escape, are they here?"
"Now, what be a set o' dwarves, a loverly young lady, and yar fine-lookin' gentlemen sittin' and drinkin' at the same table here? 'Tis a tale of king-size perposhuns, to be sure! One I would be keen to hear, says I." He motions to Hilda. "Me fine lady, a round of yer best ale fer all o' me new friends! On me!"*FPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP* Aengus spits out his beer all over Thravum.
"What in the Nine Hells happened to YOU?" he shouts, pointing at the Sea Dwarf.
"HAH!"Grombar barks, in a way that suggests he slightly too drunk to recognize how loud you're speaking. "Like on a boat? In the OCEAN?" He grabs another from the tray you just ordered. He speaks while drinking in a intelligible muffled gurgle, then he realizes you can't understand him, swallows, and repeats himself. "Why? Did you just escape, are they here?"
A laugh rumbles in his throat. "Harhar!" He slaps the table with his broad, dark hand. "Nay nay, me hearty friend! Calm yerself. I be a sailor by perfession, own me own boat and take meself on adventures 'round the world. I like to... collect trinkets, baubles, unique items." You notice several golden, bejeweled rings on his fingers as he strokes his mustache. He looks up at Oleksandr standing. "Sit me good fellah, and tell me about yer staff!" He sips his ale expectantly, griseled eyebrows raised.
Unsure if the dwarves are going to be ornery or jovial towards each other, Oleksandr stands to signal Ulumpha for another round. His primary objective is to get a layout of the room and take hold of his newly acquired, brown mahogany staff. Exquisitely carved to bring out lighter details in the form of geometric patterns mapping the structure of the six major planes. Each plane was then stained with a different tone of oil and where they overlapped the colors did too accordingly. The tones were at their richest at the top of the staff where the wood was carved into six pillars, each pillar a different hue of the dark wood. Inside of the fingers was mounted a milky white crystal.
And after he was done gazing at his new staff again he remembered he was looking about the room and ordering beer, hoping the dwarves weren't going to fight.
During the week of the Festival, the nights at the Drunken Horse are far more crowdy and racous than normal. Many people don't have seats and smoke fills the air. There's the constant sound of heavy tankards dropping against the heavy wooden tables, loud conversations and laughing.
A laugh rumbles in his throat. "Harhar!" He slaps the table with his broad, dark hand. "Nay nay, me hearty friend! Calm yerself. I be a sailor by perfession, own me own boat and take meself on adventures 'round the world. I like to... collect trinkets, baubles, unique items." You notice several golden, bejeweled rings on his fingers as he strokes his mustache. He looks up at Oleksandr standing. "Sit me good fellah, and tell me about yer staff!" He sips his ale expectantly, griseled eyebrows raised.
"Gold comes from mountains not the sea! ARYA daft?"
WOULDJA SHADDDDUPALREADY?! A chair sails from accross the room and smashes against Grombar's head.
Grombar reaches and throws a tomahawk in the direction of the thrower.
"Sit me good fellah, and tell me about yer staff!" He sips his ale expectantly, griseled eyebrows raised.
"What? This? There's really not much too it. Just a decent piece of lumber carved in a fancy way. Had it made custom out of slightly larger piece of wood. Helps me walk."
Grombar reaches and throws a tomahawk in the direction of the thrower.
[dice=Tumblin Tomahawk]1d20+6
[dice=Damage]2d6+4
Rurik steps out from the crowd *CLANG* he intercepts the maulaxe before it reaches it's intended target. It glances off his shield and flies back into Grombar's hand. He shouts to Grombar.
"You've had enough ale."
He turns to the thrower of the chair, a young teenage boy that's been working loading and unloading merchant carts all day.
"Leave now."
The teenager hurries out with a terrified look. His friends following behind.
The bar grows quiet for a moment.
Then resumes its volume.
"You float on wood, in the ocean? Willingly!? If rocks don't float in it, it ain't worth floating on. Sides, sandblasted critters'll chew yer damn leg off! Till ya stick em. Heh." Thravum wipes Aengus' beer from his chest, licking his fingers clean. "You get punished by yer clan? Plenty'a gold n trinkets to find where there's good solid ground under yer feet."
As a last minute errand before the festival, Olias asks around town about the value of the Wand of Secrets.Hilda bumps into your on purpose while carrying drinks.
"Haven't seen you around in awhile honey."
"Indeed, my dear. I've been on quite an adventure. Very dangerous. We're lucky to still be alive, truth be told, but of course, heroes are hard folk to kill. And, with a silver tongue like mine, I can talk my way out of anything... or into anything, depending on the situation." Olias winks at her.
Olias turns on the charm:
"Sit me good fellah, and tell me about yer staff!" He sips his ale expectantly, griseled eyebrows raised."What? This? There's really not much too it. Just a decent piece of lumber carved in a fancy way. Had it made custom out of slightly larger piece of wood. Helps me walk."
"Arrr," he grumbles. You see his eyes zero in on the staff, intricately observing every carved pattern and admiring the white gem. "Reminds me uhva staff I discover'din Hag's Hollow, a scurvy, shady, tree-less spot in duh Coastal Forest. Dem hags enchant der staffs for ridin' in the air, and dey shoot mean, icy blasts!" He chuckles, almost jovially, his rings clinking on his tapping fingers. He leans in towards Oleksandr. "Yer wouldn'tna be interested in summat like that, now, would yer?" He locks eyes with you, and you feel compelled to at least consider his offer.
Suddenly, the maulaxe is thrown and Rurik steps in. Yarral sneers at that direction of the young boy, clearly agitated that his conversation was interrupted. Once it has settled, his gaze locks on Oleksander. "What say ye?"
As a last minute errand before the festival, Olias asks around town about the value of the Wand of Secrets.Hilda bumps into your on purpose while carrying drinks.
"Haven't seen you around in awhile honey."
"Indeed, my dear. I've been on quite an adventure. Very dangerous. We're lucky to still be alive, truth be told, but of course, heroes are hard folk to kill. And, with a silver tongue like mine, I can talk my way out of anything... or into anything, depending on the situation." Olias winks at her.
Olias turns on the charm: [dice=Charm (Charisma Check?)] d20+6
She winks and you.
"I need to get back to work."
"Thravum, my man. I propose a drinking challenge. Who can hold his ale best? What do you say?"It's your pointy eared ass. heh." Without waiting for an answer or any formalities Thravum drains his tankard.
"Another round for me and me friends!". You weren't asked.
"Hey Thrav, we still doing this thing??" Olias downs another tankard and orders another round for the table.
"You have to start taking two at a time."
"Thrav, *hiccup* sing us a song, eh? Something with some spirit. I don't want to be the only one serenading us the entire time."
Suddenly, the maulaxe is thrown and Rurik steps in. Yarral sneers at that direction of the young boy, clearly agitated that his conversation was interrupted. Once it has settled, his gaze locks on Oleksander. "What say ye?"[/dice]
Oleksandr starts, pauses and looks into the sea dwarf's eyes
"You float on wood, in the ocean? Willingly!? If rocks don't float in it, it ain't worth floating on. Sides, sandblasted critters'll chew yer damn leg off! Till ya stick em. Heh." Thravum wipes Aengus' beer from his chest, licking his fingers clean. "You get punished by yer clan? Plenty'a gold n trinkets to find where there's good solid ground under yer feet."
Yarral grins and shakes his head. You hear a rattling under his chin, where several golden chains are twisted together. "Me hearty! Nay, I be a sea dwarf! My clan lives on duh sea, we have fer generashins. We have made our way sailin' and explorin'." He drinks his beer slowly. "'Sno gold in duh sea. I explore duh coastlines, make maps, find gold and jools, meet people. Den cast off an' do it again!" He pats his pockets. "Might have summat yer might be interested in too, me dwarven friend!"
"What say ye?"
"Me hearty! Nay, I be a sea dwarf! My clan lives on duh sea, we have fer generashins. We have made our way sailin' and explorin'." He drinks his beer slowly. "'Sno gold in duh sea. I explore duh coastlines, make maps, find gold and jools, meet people. Den cast off an' do it again!" He pats his pockets. "Might have summat yer might be interested in too, me dwarven friend!"
Oleksandr tries to change the subject.
"You live at sea? Have you ever been to Solnevo?"
"Aye, I'll drink mine and yers ya squirrel kissin elf" Thravum noisily drains both tankards. A majority of the beer ends up in his mouth.
At your suggestion, Thravum starts to "sing". It may or may not be a song he's heard before. You definitely haven't. It's vaguely reminiscent of a cross between Carl Lewis, Rosanne Barr, and this
Oleksandr tries to change the subject.
"You live at sea? Have you ever been to Solnevo?"
The sea dwarf cheers (at least, you think it's a cheer - it's pretty gutteral) and lifts his tankard. "Aye, aye! Beauteous place, says I! An' full o' intrustin' objects ter find."
He pats his pack slung over his shoulder and in his lap. He leans in. "I be there in Solnevo, 'splorin' an abandoned temple to an evil god. Liked his followers to bring 'em trophies of beasts or summat. Found me some rather rare treasures." He grins and you see a gold flash. "Lemme know if year interested in checkin' out me wares. And that goes fer all of ya!" he calls, lifting his tankard again and draining it.
He then watches the drinking contest. "Ten gold on me dwarf cousin!"
"Well done. But can you handle 4 at a time?"
It becomes apparent that Olias and Thravum's contest to see who can create the larger hangover is going to take a while. After seeing the sea dwarf encourage them and socialize with the rest of the tavern in general, Oleksandr becomes a bit more comfortable with his presence.
"So, what kind of items are you trying to sell? Nothing cursed I assume?"
"I got a cursed *hiccup* thingy... You put it on your foot and whoop! To the Moon! Bye!!" Olias starts laughing uncontrollably.
"Thravum, you doing another round or calling it quits? Remember, you do 2!"
Olias has a hard time holding his tankard, but, no doubt foolishly, gets ready for another round.