GM WhtKnt's Warriors & Warlocks

Game Master WhtKnt

Theria is a fantasy campaign of my own creation. It has all the trappings of traditional fantasy, but it uses the Mutants & Masterminds 3rd edition ruleset.


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Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

Our story begins in the City of Deepwater, in the Grey Minstrel Inn in Trades Ward, where fate has brought each of you individually. This particular day is gray and dreary, the rumbling skies threatening rain. The Grey Minstrel is well-spoken of in the city as a good place to stay and somewhere to find a meal, if not a hot one. The taproom is busy this afternoon and there are few open tables available. Three barmen work the long bar, as numerous barmaids bustle amongst the tables, clearing away dishes and bringing drinks to the guests. A large bouncer stands at each door, armed with a wooden cudgel. A fire is roaring in the hearth, chasing away the chill of the autumn air...


Devon inhaled deeply the scent of the crisp autumn air filled with the hint of rain to come. This trip to Deepwater was his first and his father had finally relented to his insistence to go explore the big city. The half elf narrowly avoided bumping into a pair of human watchmen who ignored the bumpkin gawking at their everyday life. Seeing a sign with a minstrel on it over a doorway he smelled the smoke of roasted meats and other delicious food drawing him in. A few moments later the young man entered the Inn looking around with fascination as he self consciously adjusted the fine bow which was unstrung across his back and the short sword at his hip.
His father had warned him against using a weapon in the city unless there was no other choice but he would not leave his son unprotected completely. Ever since he'd shown a fascination is tinkering with artifice his father had seemed to become increasingly concerned about him, as if he knew it was only a matter of time before the quiet village life would no longer be enough for him. Stories about artificers and warlocks within the great city of Deepwater had captivated him and finally now he was here, rubbing shoulders with them. Wait...had someone asked him a question? He realized the barmaid was looking him over with a impatient look since he'd been caught up in his own head. "I'm sorry...what was that?"


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

A young man, in his early 20s or so, sits at a table near the wall, watching those who come in. He's wearing a thick, dark cloak with a hood (though it seems to be more for warmth than mystery) as his fingers clench a steaming drink.

Even having experienced fall several times since he first left the eastern deserts, the chill in the air never failed to leave Kal feeling half-frozen. He tugged at the collar of his cloak- the enchantments woven within meaning to keep him warm never seeming to be adequate. He took another drink of his spiced cider before waving down a barmaid to get a refill. When the drink arrived, he muttered an incantation to himself, and the steam coming from his mug doubled.

Still.... he had definitely come here for a reason. He wasn't sure what that was, yet, but his little nagging intuition insisted that this drafty old building was the place he needed to be this morning, and so here he was. Hopefully something would happen soon, before his toes froze off.


Dwarf 6 | D&P: 4, T: 8/8 | F: 8, W: 4 | Init: +4 | Senses: perception +5 <darkvision>

Several figures warmed near the fire, some standing, others relaxed on chairs and stools. In their midst, seated on a chair uncomfortably close to the flames, smoldering, sat a stout figure under a rough brown cloth. Long since dry, the stranger lingered motionless as he stared into the flames. On his chest and stomach, softly glowing runes burned back at the fire, obscured only by his position facing close to the hearth.

Grith had been wandering for months, more preoccupied with what was within him than with what was around him, and now he found himself here: the Grey Minstrel Inn. In his hand was a once-cold tin mug now as warm as it was empty. Whatever business he might have here was no more apparent to him than it was to anyone else. But neither they nor he gave it much thought. Everyone was just there for the fire.


"Three mugs, please!" Alcelia said cheerfully, looking rather conspicuously out-of-place pretty much everywhere she went. Most of those she knew - and she knew quite a lot of people - had long since given up asking questions, and several had apparently decided to treat her as more-or-less a part of the weather that would hopefully go away if you ignored her long enough. Still, she had coin and happily slid it over. "Oh, and have you gotten any interesting drinks in? Or new ones? ...Or weird ones?" She was fairly flexible when it came to drinking options.


The great bear heaved a sigh as he drank his boredom away. This was not what he had in mind when he had left his home many months ago, he had planned for adventure and the promise of great deeds... instead he had found nothing but menial labor and the odd job cracking skulls for the local constables. He sipped at his drink, wishing something would come along, something worthy of song and the memory of the generations.

"Another of these... what did you call them? Oh yes, lemonade. Another lemonade."

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Devon's barmaid dutifully asks again. "What will you have? We offer a variety of drinks, fruits, and cold meats."

Alcelia's server is less talkative and merely shakes her head in response to the query. However, a young man sitting near her leans over and says, 'She won't tell ya this, of course, but if you want exotic drinks, you should try The Diamond Spider Tavern over on Broken Tooth alley. Their specialty is the Spider's Web. Few people make it past the first one!"

The serving girl bustles off to fetch Boris another lemonade, returning with a tall mug full of the liquid. Ursa are not a common sight in Deepwater, though they are certainly not the oddest, and she has no desire to upset Boris.

"Horace!" A patron calls out, "Do you think that the minstrel will make an appearance tonight?"

The barkeep looks up from his work cleaning the bar surface and shrugs. "Eh, who can say? He comes and goes as he pleases."

The door swings wide and a well-dressed man comes in and posts a piece of paper to a board, adding it to the dozens of pieces already there. He gives a quick look about the tavern and then leaves without a word.


"Oh! Um, can I get an ale and some apples? Also some sharp cheese if you have any?" Devon's stomach made a quiet gurgle of hunger as he thought about food. His eyes lit up as he saw the Ursa and other interesting folks by the fire, in his village such sights were rare except the occasional traveler or seeker of his father's crafts. He gave the barmaid a few coins to set up his order as he moved across the room toward the board of paper.

Curiosity was in his nature and he couldn't help but let his eyes be drawn to read the notices and news of what was going on in the area.


"And what does it actually taste like?" Alcelia inquired of the other man. "The best drinks have some real personality to them, not just enough alcohol to make you fall flat on your face after a few sips. Anyone can get drunk - you need real drinks for the rest of us."


Dwarf 6 | D&P: 4, T: 8/8 | F: 8, W: 4 | Init: +4 | Senses: perception +5 <darkvision>

Grith's fragile reverie was disturbed by some of the new guests. As the man posted the paper to the board, Grith considered for a moment but decided to let others have a look before he moved from his comfortable seat by the fire.


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

Kal stood up, his hood falling back to reveal a young-looking face with a set of simple tattoos etched upon it. He walked over to the board, feeling his intuition tugging at him, and studied the new handout.


Borisov watched as the collected masses went to see the new board posting. He sipped at his drink, the proclamation would still be there when he finished. He tossed the last handful of coins he had earned on the table to cover his tab...

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Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

The newest posting is merely one among some three dozen, the older ones lost in the sea of paper. This one reads, "Employment Opportunity! Professor Fyber is seeking strong arms and brave souls to accompany his companion on a hunting expedition. For more details, see Professor Fyber at Fyber's Taxidermy and Museum. Good pay, excitement guaranteed!"

Speaking to Alcelia, the young man chuckles. "Two of them and you won't care what it tastes like! But I hear that it contains three fruit juices, five varieties of hard alcohol, and a "special" ingredient, known only to Spider himself. Rumor has it, though, that the secret ingredient is a drop or two of tincture of opium."


Devon read the flyer and glances over at the human man looking as well. He smiled and gave a nod of his head without saying anything as he went to find a seat at a table. There were many interesting people and even a few magic looking folks in here as well but for the moment his stomach needed to be sated with some food and drink. A hunting expedition sounded interesting but he wasn't sure he if he was ready to commit to anything himself right now without a bit more time to take in the city. There were still so many wonders to be seen here.

As he thought that his eyes glanced over to the fire and the folk there. Man there were some mysterious looking fellows huddled and standing around the hearth. He didn't recognize any of them but that was hardly surprising given his roots in the village of Heavenring where he'd been raised by his father. His eyes roamed over to the bar lingering on the Ursa and the woman who's presence seemed to draw the few patrons around her in. Idly he wondered what it would be like to travel from inn to inn like this and just meet new people and see the world. But that would leave his only family he had ever known and he wasn't sure he could do that.

Somewhere in his thoughts his drink had arrived and he took it up taking a hearty gulp.


"Aaaah, drugs. Best be careful with those." she seemed more amused than anything else. But then, addictive substances generally weren't a long-term problem for her. "So, what's this about a minstrel? Did they find somebody decent to play?"


Dwarf 6 | D&P: 4, T: 8/8 | F: 8, W: 4 | Init: +4 | Senses: perception +5 <darkvision>

They'd had their turn.

Grith stood, the chair loudly announcing its sliding conflict with the floor, and spun the woolen blanket around to land it on the now vacant seat. Broad-bodied and girded only from the waist down, red hair spiked and beard braided, wearing a pair of hammers on either hip, and ember-glowing runes across his torso, the dwarf was somewhat of a spectacle.

He walked towards the board with sure and deliberate steps; people did not usually stand in his way for long. Casting his cup aside he pulled the note from the board. One half of his mind quietly warned him against getting kicked out of another tavern, but the other was focused solely on finding some excitement. As he read the note, the latter half prevailed and his mind was made up. That's when he noticed some younger patrons lingering around the board.

"Go home." He said gruffly. "This is a man's work." By this time he'd drawn a few eyes, so he took it as an opportunity. "A silver for the man who can take me to--" He peered closely at the note again, "Fyber's Taxidermy and Museum." He read the name slowly with some distaste. "It's to be a hunt!" He crumpled the note in his hand and discarded it, flames turning it to ash before it touched the floor.


The Ursa chuckles as he stood, licking the last of his sugary repast from his lips. Towering over the dwarf, he loomed like the cave bears and the chasm statues, a monolith a brown shaggy fur wearing even less than the dwarf. His voice growls and rumbles like a gravel slide down a cliff face, "I will take that silver."

As soon as he gets the silver and gets out the door,he is going to ask a resident in the street for directions.

Dark Archive

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Someone chuckles and another patron leans over to speak to Alcelia. "The minstrel they're referring to is the ghost," he explains. "It comes and goes at its whim, but 'tis how the place got its name. It usually shows up when some half-wit bard is tormenting the patrons, but it's not unusual for it to give an impromptu session."


"Hm. Well, probably not a problem." Alcelia said breezily, not especially worried about ghosts that just played music for people. An exorcism was a bit more than totally necessary in cases like that, but she paused and slid some coins across the counter as she noticed a dwarf roaring about man's work.

"......"

This might yet be interesting. A smile flickered about her lips as she stood up and moved over. "The hunting expedition, is it? Think he wants something unusual?"


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

Kal raises an eyebrow at Grith, eyeing the dwarf with a bit of disdain, "Fire mages" he mutters, then turns his attention to the pile of ashes on the floor. With a wave of his hand, they coalesce and flies into his hand, re-forming the poster along the way. He shakes his head, "You people are impossible."

Kal quickly makes his way out of the building and, stepping into an alleyway, takes to the sky, making his way to the museum.

Does that need a roll to know where it is?


Devon looked up confused as the dwarf loudly proclaimed to the room his intent to take the job and then destroyed the paper. Can he do that?? Devon looked around to see if anyone else had taken offense to the destruction and watched as the few other patrons involved themselves in various ways. He sipped his ale and continued to wait for his food keening observing the scene unfold.

Dark Archive

Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

You can easily obtain directions to Fyber's Taxidermy and Museum, which is located in a place called Spice Alley, about three blocks from the inn.

Kal is the first to arrive; the others are en route.


Devon took his simple fare in the Grey Minstrel but the various folk all so excited to leap upon the job with the museum stuck in his mind. He finally finished, letting the others rush toward the job while he ate before standing up, paying and heading out the door. He kept walking down the street his feet carrying him toward the museum. Perhaps he'd hear what this job was before he made any decisions.

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I was waiting to see if Kal wanted to knock or wait for the rest of you to catch up, but I will assume he knocks. I will give details on the morrow.


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

I mean, I don't really know any of the others. There's no real reason for me to wait.

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Kal knocks at the door and a dark-haired, dark-eyed man opens the portal. "Are you here to view the museum, or in answer to the advertisement?" he asks formally.


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

"The advertisement." Kal replies, "It sounds interesting enough, also, it seems like half the tavern is on its way over at the moment."

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"Ah, yes. Very well. Please come in," the man beckons you inside to a storefront lit by a hanging lantern. The floor is carpeted with a wine-colored rug and there are black velvet draperies on all the walls. Display cases and shelves containing taxidermied specimens fill the room. In the northeast corner is a set of stairs leading down with a sign above them that reads "Museum".

Behind one display case, a tall, well-muscled blonde woman with violet eyes carefully cleans and oils a hunting knife. She is dressed in heavy breeks and a beige jerkin with many pockets. On her feet she wears heavy leather boots.

"Miss O'Neil," the man says. "A potential hunter has arrived. Others would appear to be en route." With that, he disappears into the basement.

The woman looks up from her cleaning and nods to Kal. "Welcome. Toots O'Neil. I will be leading the expedition. Please have a look about while we wait for the others." She then goes back to oiling her knife.

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Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

Meanwhile, en route to the tavern, the others can hear the sound of clanking and a deep gravely voice calling out, "Salmagundi! Fills yer innards, keeps yer warm!" Coming into view is a wagon being pushed by a burly, mustachioed man dressed in eye-blinding motley; a wide-brimmed hat with multi-colored feathers, a striped shirt, breeches, and knee-high swash-topped boots. A cutlass hangs from his waist and a dagger can be seen peeking from the top of each boot. A small monkey rides on the man's shoulder. Along the sides of the wagon are a number of tin cups, rattling and clanking as it moves. "Salmuagundi! Wouldj'a like some?"


Devon stopped to inspect the man's wares and smile at the animal who he hoped was being treated well by this merchant. "What is Salmuagundi? I've never had some before."


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

Kal nods in greeting as he takes his hood down, revealing a messy head of dark hair with a strange gleam to it as he looks around the room. After a while, he leaned against the wall and pulled out a book from... somewhere, and started reading through it.


"It's something you should try at least once." Alcelia said, leaning towards Devon as the cart came nearby. "Of course, I say that about a lot of foods, so I'm probably not the most trustworthy person on the subject..."


Devon turned to look at Alcelia his eyes widening. "You! I saw you back at the inn?" Apparently the sharp eyed half elven youth had picked up on the more...colorful personalities in the inn despite not directly engaging with them. His eyes went down then back up taking her in as he swallowed and tried to think of something to say to this beautiful and intimidating person. Horns were...definately not something you saw every day. "Um...do you want some Salmuagundi?"

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Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

"Salmagundi be me own creation. I puts in several cuts o' meat, some fish, lots o' onions, and a secret blend o' spices," the man says. "Would you like mild, medium, or dare yer try sun's sweat?" He cuts off a piece of bread from a breadbox on the side of the wagon, then sweeps his hand over the cart in an invitation (and to allow the aroma of the salmagundi to filter into your noses). The whole smells delicious. "One piece of silver buys yer a chunk of bread slathered with yer flavor o' choice. For an additional fee, I has some drink available to cool yer tongue." The monkey helpfully points at the tin cups that adorn the side of the wagon.

It is at this point that a small gaggle of children approaches the wagon, the oldest of which looks to be about 12 and the youngest perhaps 5 winters. "Slimon!" they call, almost in unison. The man merely smiles and fishes in his pocket, producing several pieces of candy. He gives one piece to each child, starting with the youngest.


Devon smiles seeing the man having sweets for the children of the city. He fishes into his purse knowing he'll have to work hard to make this up but the food does really smell delicious and will warm his insides as he walks toward his destination. He produces a silver piece and offers it to the monkey. "Very well...I'm feeling adventurous today. I'll have medium sir."


"I'll take your hottest." Alcelia said pleasantly. "It's really not so bad once you get used to it." she added to Devon in a conspiratorial whisper. "People have a remarkable propensity to get used to any food if they can stomach it long enough... though I once saw a man fall flat on his face after eating something a bit too wild. Better to start weak and work your way up."


Dwarf 6 | D&P: 4, T: 8/8 | F: 8, W: 4 | Init: +4 | Senses: perception +5 <darkvision>

Grith walks the road with purpose, his eyes moving about as though to find the museum at any moment. He spots the boy from the Grey Minstrel with a very vivid woman, speaking with some kind of street vendor. Being largely unamused by such, he keeps his pace and moves past them.


Boris continues to walk his path, using his immense bulk to push his way past any who would block his way. He barely keeps an eye on the dwarf as he moves, making sure he does not lose the small man in a crowd.

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Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

@Devon and Alcelia: The salmagundi is as good as Slimon claims and hot to boot! Even the medium is well-seasoned (Fortitude save at -2 or require a drink) and the sun's sweat is hot enough to burn a hole in your cheek (Fort save at -4 or require a drink; Fort saves are not necessary for those immune to fire)!

@Boris and Grith: You arrive at the appointed place and are met at the door by a dark-eyed, dark-haired man who, upon seeing you, raises an eyebrow and says, "You must be the others of whom the gentleman who has already arrived spoke. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable. Are there others to follow, or does this complete your entourage?"

@Kal (and Boris and Grith, when they come in): The woman who has been cleaning her weapons glances up briefly. You're the hunters, eh? Tell me, have you hunted dragons before?" It is difficult to tell whether she is joking or not.


Fort Save: 1d20 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 - 2 = 3

Devon nearly spits out the far too spicy meat as his eyes begin to water and his nose opens up to practically breath flames and his tongue feels like it is on fire. He grabs a mug off the cart not waiting to pay first and chugs it before getting out the coin for the drink and paying.


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

Kal narrows his eyes and frowns slightly, "I know the theory. Never had the opportunity to do so myself, though. What's this one done to deserve a hunt?" he asks, unwilling to kill a dragon for the mere 'crime' of existing.

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@Kal, Grith, and Boris: The woman smiles a predatory smirk. "Nothing, actually. We're going hunting for something slightly less dramatic. Ever hear of an ankheg? Nasty beasties. They can spit acid and burrow faster than a man can walk. There's a lair of them near the city and they've been terrorizing farmers. The Lord Mayor wants them cleaned out and is offering a nice reward for anyone who does so. That and Professor Fyber wants one. So we'll need to bring one back largely intact."


Dwarf 6 | D&P: 4, T: 8/8 | F: 8, W: 4 | Init: +4 | Senses: perception +5 <darkvision>

"Entourage? How many do you need? I'd meant to do it myself." Grith answers the man at the door, mild confusion as evident as his pride. "There'd better be gold in it."

----------------------------

Grith strides in to hear the description of the ankheg. "Sounds like a real menace. Shouldn't be--" he pauses, processing. "...intact, meaning...?" He strokes his red beard nervously.
He shoots a puzzled look to the boyish figure who had beaten him here, wondering both how he'd arrived so fast and why he was so eager to be monster food.


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

"Ankheg? You get those out here? I'm used to them being in more sandy regions. I've fought a couple. Never tried to take one in alive, but it should be doable. Anyway, I may as well introduce myself" he says as the dwarf from the bar enters, "My name is Kal, and I am a sand-elemental transmuter." he has a curious accent that's tricky to place, but his dress indicates he's initially from somewhere warm.


Fortitude: 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 2 - 4 = 11

"Aaaah, that's the stuff." Alcelia said, seeming very pleased by the heat. She pat Devon on the back a moment later. "Hah! First time with something like this?" she asked, amused but also just a little bit concerned for his health. That had looked awfully hot, judging by the way he went for a drink...

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Roll20 Maps: Borderlands 1 || Borderlands 2 || Carrion Crown || Forge of Heroes || Skull & Shackles || Mad Mage of Undermountain ||Weird War I

@Kal, Grith, and Boris: "Not alive," Toots smiles, "Just intact. Undamaged. The professor is a taxidermist. Yes, we do get ankhegs around here. They're a bloody nuisance for farmers. Not nearly so much as bulettes, but those are much rarer, fortunately.

"And we'd best be prepared for several of them. As I said, this is a nest. Probably at least two adults, and a number of nymphs. If it were just the one, I'd go by myself. There is some gold in it. The professor will pay decently for an intact corpse."

@Devon and Alcelia: Slimon laughs goodnaturedly as Devon partakes of the soothing liquid. "I'd go easy on that if I t'were you, lad. That grog be strong stuff!" True to his word, the drink is exceedingly strong in alcohol content.


Male Human Mage Initiative +3; Dodge +4, Fortitude +5, Parry +4, Toughness +5, Will +7 (-0 Penalty on Toughness)

Kal nods thoughtfully, "Gold doesn't hold much interest for me- I was an alchemist for a while, and a good one at that- do you know if the professor would be willing to allow me access to some of his library or research in lieu of payment?" he asks.


Devon slows down drinking as his hearing catches up with his thirst right before the alcohol hits him. He sways dangerously trying not to fall against Alcelia as he holds out his coins toward the monkey. "Oh...yesh thats a bit...stronger then I thought...there was a thing...I was gonna do..." He looked over at Alcelia and at her spicy food that seems to hardly bother her at all. "Thatsh impressivve. What is your name?"


"Just call me Alcelia." she said, clearly rather amused still. "Would you like to sober up a little? I'm guessing you'd rather not feel drunk all afternoon, but I learned some time ago that I should stop assuming what other people want..."


"I'm not drunk! I am Devon Bowyer, son of Geoffrey Bowyer of Heavenring Village. I am going to go see a man about a museum...I mean a poster. But this fellow and his furry friend enticed me into stopping for a taste of their delicious Sal-Saluga-Salamandagundi. I actually am not even sure why I am going to the museum place...that dwarf seemed pretty mean about the job thing and I should probably not get too involved with some job I don't know anything about..." He seemed to be in a befuddled state consuming his treat and the grog in equal parts before he started to resume his trek down the street.

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