Hera the Owl |
White owl splay dribbles down the Dwarf's bald forehead and the hairs in his ears stand up straight. "Two can play that game ya obnoxious feather duster!"
He clears his throat and sends his own renegade bodily fluid flying up at the bird.
But probably at long range. ;p
Gwendolyn the Strange -CORE- |
Gwen bags the orb, allowing the mist to dissipate without even Imrizade's fan breaking from the stress of it.
Moments later Nigel rushes into the room, accompanies by a team of pathfinder healers. One of the healers notes:
"You guys are in so much trouble. Zarta wants to see you all 'in her office...'"
Gwen turns invisible.
And that is a wrap folks. Those who do want to help, this time only may use your knowledge(arcana) as your day job check for this scenario. Any final questions, sing out.
Sure, I'll try the know (arcana) check.
knowledge (arcana): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28 BOO-YAH!
Grog half orc |
Gwen turns invisible.
Grog looks around.
"Where'd Gwen go. I guess she misses out on me buying a round of ales!"
Hera the Owl |
Gwendolyn the Strange -CORE- wrote:Gwen turns invisible.
Grog looks around.
"Where'd Gwen go."
"Whoo?"
Ironshanks Magee |
Gwendolyn the Strange -CORE- wrote:Gwen turns invisible.
Grog looks around.
"Where'd Gwen go. I guess she misses out on me buying a round of ales!"
"Don't worry, it won't go ta waste... unless its one of them pumpkin spice ones, then I'll save it for her." Off marches the full plate exoskeleton known as Ironshanks Magee.
Grog half orc |
Grog rubs his chin. "Ironshanks, I don't know what you dwarves are up to but I haven't heard of a "pumpkin spice" ale. I'll ask the innkeeper for regular ones!" He slaps the dwarf on the back. "Let's go!"
Ironshanks Magee |
Grog rubs his chin. "Ironshanks, I don't know what you dwarves are up to but I haven't heard of a "pumpkin spice" ale. I'll ask the innkeeper for regular ones!" He slaps the dwarf on the back. "Let's go!"
"Don't pin that albatross on Dwarves! I can only imagine it was them damned Gnomes or Humans for thinking up that crap!"
GM Aerondor |
And with friendly words of pumpkin pies the team separates to go their each own way,
each knowing it is likely they will meet another day.