Right outside of Laurels a stinky gnome rolls out a small rug and a bowl with a couple of coins glued to the bottom. He unfolds a small stool and puts his posterior gently on it and clears his throat. He begins to play his guitar and sing quietly about an overwhelming flood from long ago.
Othoe starts as he sees a Gnome outside Laurels.
ANOTHER Gnome... stay in character remember! What should I do?!
Othoe makes a great showing of striding up to a brother Gnome.
Othoe tries to make it look like it's just two Gnomes catching up on old times...
At the end of the song he lets the silence roll and furtively wipes a tear from his eye.
Does anyone have any requests? Something a little more cheerful, perhaps?
As he waits he takes a furtive sip of something from a bottle. Something dangerous that makes his eyes water when they get close to the rim.
"I hope Miss Laurel is able to see all of us. We seem to have grown in numbers."
Dorial turns to the actual gnome. This poor guy looks horrific. I hope he doesn't have the plague.
"Hi there! What was that song you just played? I don't think I've heard it before."
Dorial makes it a point to stay at least 5' back from the gnome.
In Gnomish
Giles is catching up with his buddy the gnome.
In common
Why yes, that is one of my favorites!
Giles begins a bouncy-beated song about things that frolic and cavort.
As the gnome finishes it's song and drinks the weird concoction, Trafalgar stands aghast. Whats with this gnome, he looks quite disturbed. And what is that he is drinking. Maybe I can detect something in the area at least.
"Hello there yourself. The first song I played is called the Great Flood of Old Garmanthiosle. This one is The Bouncy Bunny waltz. Although it is not a waltz, no bunnies were harmed in its production. Do you have a request? It's alright if you keep your distance. Please, though step close to the bowl and let your glittery change make my favorite kind of music."
Giles begins to play a song about life wasted locked up with dust and parchment. The end of the song calls out to break free and live free in the open air.
No wonder no one I know frequents this place. It's kind of a bummer.
Othoe can't think of any 'old Gnomish tunes'...
"Play something from the old country, play an old Gnomish ditty if you will. Something light hearted."
Othoe drops a few coppers in his bowl and steps away.
Giles can't think of any 'old Gnomish tunes'
"Ah yes. You'll be thinking of 'Sweet Posy's Lament'
Giles smiles broadly at the sound of the copper and adds up the total without even looking.
I wonder if I still have a bit of that hardtack in my bag. I'm not sure if I'll get to eat tonight. Who's being the bummer now.
The crowd shuffles forward, mingling with the members of last night's crowd from The Sitting Duck. Some are noticeably ill, coughing and hacking, and one small child sprawls listlessly near Giles while he waits for his mother.
"will you tell me a stowry?" he asks, though it seems to take a bit out of him to do so.
-----
Across the street, Thaldrin Kreed and his boys look over the crowd, but leave again at Simon's loud display, heading towards a group of young men at the other end of the street. Thankfully, Miss Laurel's crowd seems to block his view of the panhandling gnome, for now.
Dorial asks one of locals that is coughing if she can take a look at them.
Dorial asks one of locals that is coughing if she can take a look at them.
1d20+8
"Are you he *hackcoughcough* helping Miss Laurel?"
A human woman of middling years, her cheeks sag and bellow with each cough. A fine spray of spittle floats in the air between you before dissipating.
Nimeon nods at the proceedings, content to let Simon take the lead as he seems to have a plan.
Are those Threed's boys? Oh, the man himself. Need to make sure he doesn't see me, we didn't part on the best of terms and I've no desire to involve these innocents.
"Of course my man. I'll tell you a story of a little trooper just like you. His name was Chortelee He started his life in sunshine, spending his days outside with the discoveries that can only be made with your feet in a creek and your hands in the mud. Then one day a big, bad man came into town. His name was Too-mean. He was at least as big as two men and he took over. Suddenly all the children were put to work planting beans. It was hard work and it made their backs ache and their fingers bleed. They were told if they stopped working their mothers would be taken away. So they all worked as hard a they could. It took awhile, but slowly Chortelee became big and strong from all the work and led the revolt against Too-mean and his growing group of followers. He swung the final blow that took Too-mean down. Forever after that everyone looked up to Chortelee and never had to work again. The end."
"I bet you are the strongest boy of all your friends. Nothing is going to make you pick beans. What's your name little man?"
Whoa, that boy must have the plague I've heard so much about. I hope my little story helps him get better.
Nimeon nods at the proceedings, content to let Simon take the lead as he seems to have a plan.
Are those Threed's boys? Oh, the man himself. Need to make sure he doesn't see me, we didn't part on the best of terms and I've no desire to involve these innocents.
Kreed and his boys move down the way, though he does throw another look over his shoulder in your direction.
"Of course my man. I'll tell you a story of a little trooper just like you. His name was Chortelee He started his life in sunshine, spending his days outside with the discoveries that can only be made with your feet in a creek and your hands in the mud. Then one day a big, bad man came into town. His name was Too-mean. He was at least as big as two men and he took over. Suddenly all the children were put to work planting beans. It was hard work and it made their backs ache and their fingers bleed. They were told if they stopped working their mothers would be taken away. So they all worked as hard a they could. It took awhile, but slowly Chortelee became big and strong from all the work and led the revolt against Too-mean and his growing group of followers. He swung the final blow that took Too-mean down. Forever after that everyone looked up to Chortelee and never had to work again. The end."
"I bet you are the strongest boy of all your friends. Nothing is going to make you pick beans. What's your name little man?"
"hmmm? My name is ....Mookie. " he has to pause in the middle to get all the words out, and looks confused. After a long moment, he says, "But evwyone has to wowrk."
"Well, that's great Mookie. That will make everyone big and strong. Are you here to get some help from Miss Laurel? I hear she makes lots of people better."
to the crowd:
"Can somebody get my main man Mookie some water? Maybe a sweet or something?"You, ahh you there, Dorial, Do you have something nice for the little man here?"
"Well, that's great Mookie. That will make everyone big and strong. Are you here to get some help from Miss Laurel? I hear she makes lots of people better."
Mookie nods quietly, his little head wobbling a little, "uh-huh. Mamma says... she'll make me feel good... so I don't hafta go to ....to da orfnage. His lip trembles at the last.
Mookie nods quietly, his little head wobbling a little, "uh-huh. Mamma says... she'll make me feel good... so I don't hafta go to ....to da orfnage. His lip trembles at the last.
"Have some of your friends gone to the orphanage?"
Mookie nods quietly, his little head wobbling a little, "uh-huh. Mamma says... she'll make me feel good... so I don't hafta go to ....to da orfnage. His lip trembles at the last."Have some of your friends gone to the orphanage?"
Before Mookie can answer, a woman that looks old enough to be his grandmother than his mother comes hustling up, hurried and harried, and scoops Mookie up.
"It's ok, Mamma got you some tea. You're going to be just fine." With a half hearted smile, she drops one of her few remaining coins into the bowl. "Thank you for keeping him in one spot. He does better when he rests. "
For those six, please jump over to the discussion thread for comments and questions.
As they stroll through the streets of Falcon's Hollow, Sarek spots his cousin and peels off from the group, eager to be with his kin...
I can't take money from these people. Maybe they'll let me play for drinks at the bar.
A short gnome clad in red leathers strides into the tavern, one booted foot after another clicking across the floor. His small hand continuously clutches, unclutches, and clutches again in repetition around the wooden amulet shaped into the form of a red wing on his chest. His little legs swing on either side of a very lengthy sword sheathed down his back.
Am I late?