Angry Jawa's page

Sorry to hear about your employment woes, Heathy. Hopefully your upcoming hunt will yield results very quickly.

As for where to go next, I don't think we can afford to ignore the red shirt angle. It looks to be a time-consuming endeavor, which I find worrisome, however if memory serves, our illustrious and excellent DM seemed to indicate that time easily abused in this game/setting (setting being PBP, not the campaign setting, of course). Therefore, I think we should chase it down. Heck, we may not have to go trucking after the dude. Red shirt might have info that we could pursue here. We won't know until we get our hooks in.

The swordman trundles forward.

"Aye. You lot piss off."

The swordsmen stop, bow to eachother, and face the two newcomers.

"Thith ith totally dithwethpectfulll!"
one of them says with a lisp.

He has the largest incisors you've ever seen on a human.

"I agwee!" says the other buck toothed varment.

"What'th it going to be little mithy?"

says the first.

BAHAHAAHAHAHHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! That, sir, is AWETHOME!!!

Rholf tries to put an end to the undead nasty that tried to hit him.

+1 Warhammer Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

But the dance of ineptitude continues unabated...

*The peanut gallery gasps, then cheers wildly*

"Perhaps I could gain us simpler interest." Rholf offers, as Leik approaches the gate (Anywhere on the map that puts me out of direct view from the gate is fine, Mr. DM.) Rholf then quickly lays out his idea; "I could be looking for some kind of assistance in removing these." he points to the flames constantly rising up from his hair as he says this last bit. "I'm sure that, between Edwin and myself, we could get them to open the gate, and give us a 'tour' of the place..."

"A litter it is, then!"

Rholf says, then goes about helping get materials for the litter together and assembled.

Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

"These are made with jagged rocks and mud, right?"

=)

Gilgar screams viciously at the worg "Dog! Ye need skin in this game. Ye either fight aside us, or yer two b!4ch dogs fight aside us. Either that, or we take all yer mushrooms and go now."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Moving forward one step, tensing every muscle, veins standing up. I look as though I'm going to charge at any second, shaking slightly as a low growl begins deep in my chest, my eyes narrow to slits, and a snarl curls my upper lip. Props to Elvis!