No problem Shadow, you just hang in there.
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"Sure. Caravan's fine. Food and safety in numbers," rumbles Brogg.
Brogg pauses in mid-stride, and looks first to the pilgrims, then back to his traveling companions. "We changing gears or...?"
Brogg continues his determined lumber toward the battlefield.
Brogg continues his slow and ponderous march.
Since no horse can carry someone of his size, Brogg settles for lumbering toward the confrontation, drawing his sword as he goes.
"I guess join the caravan. Might as well be in the middle when things go funny."
"We go there and see for ourselves," says Brogg.
Brogg thinks hard, then says, "I guess. Someone else gets the swords and you want 'em stopped."
"Yeah, if the assassins were in this much of a hurry, we should probably move quick too," says Brogg.
Brogg shrugs as the man hisses at him. "You despise me too. I do what I wanna do, not what I think other people want me to do."
Brogg simply reaches into the bushes and pulls the unarmed man out.
Brogg moves deliberately toward the Winged Victory, his large, hobnailed boots making a heavy thump with each footstep.
Brogg moves quite deliberately toward the building where the men are falling out of the Winged Victory. He puts a hand on the hilt of his massive sword but does not draw it, yet - instead waiting for the guards to recognize that he's not the criminal to whom Gaurm is referring.
Brogg shrugs noncommittally. "If there are always bandits and pirates, then I'll always have work. Which is good. And you might as well stamp them out. It's like... you may not be able to stop every thief, but people still put locks on their chests to stop some of 'em. Stop the ones you can."
Take care Red One, see you around!
As the usual conversation starts again, Brogg sighs heavily and says, "Only gonna finish trouble started by the bad guys. Bandits, pirates, servants of evil gods... that kinda thing."
Brogg scratches his chin and eventually says, "Your mum sounds like a good woman. I agree with the sen... uh... sentiment."
Seated in back, Brogg has nodded off during the boring sermon.
As usual, Brogg stays quiet so as not to inadvertently startle or offend anyone.
"The smaller the person, the bigger the words," observes Brogg.
Brogg says, "So, deliver message, then off to fight? Basically?"
Yeah, been kinda crazy downtime!
Brogg dusts off his hands, having just finished moving the troughs back into their old positions, and pauses momentarily to digest the scene beforehim.
"Hmm, all right. I'll help clean up out here," says Brogg to Gaurm, oblivious to the other goings-on.
"Yeah. Bath and a meal. Sometimes go a long while without gettin' those."
"Wonder how long this'll last?"
Brogg says, "I'm all for putting down robbers and highwaymen."
"Well, this town is willing to sell me a drink, a meal, and a warm bath. Any town willing to do that is on my side, an' that means my sword arm is on theirs," says Brogg with an air of simple conviction.
"I was just gonna take a bath. Now it's gonna be cold."
"Oh, I don't think any of us would want to smash a cook," says Brogg. "I like tasty food more than I like squashing people."
"Well, that's a good hobby," says Brogg. "Must be less expensive to eat smaller portions! I can't do a lot of cooking dabbling because if I burn something or ruin it I can't really afford it."
"Yeah. I'm just hungry, and this is one of the things that was on the food platter," Brogg explains. "Are you a cook?"
"Ah... hello," says Brogg a bit awkwardly as he munches on a whole head of lettuce.
Brogg looks back and forth several times as he takes in the chaos, then finally he shrugs and says, "Guess it's mealtime." With that he follows Gaurm and Felseed.
I will be camping this weekend and may not have internet. Bot if needed!
Brogg shrugs and simply adds, "Not sure how much trouble I can get into while in the bath."
"Yeah, of course. No problem, moving heavy stuff is kinda our thing."
Brogg nods and says, "Yeah, I'm sure that's fine. It's nicer than we usually get." He gives a throaty chuckle.
Briggs says in response to Gaurm's comment, "Friendly is good."
Ayup! Looks like they finally sorted it out.
The half-ogre seated on the fireplace brick stands abruptly, though he ducks his head out of habit to make sure he doesn't strike the ceiling. "Uh, pardon me," he says to the nearest table, so as not to startle them. Finally he makes his way slowly to the bar and says, "Can I get a mug of beer? A big one." He rummages for his pouch and says, "I have money."
Briggs glances about to see if there's a raised brick hearth by the fireplace, where can sit - since nobody makes chairs in his size, anyway.
Brogg does his best to seem unassuming, which is of course a bit tricky given his size. For the most part he stays near Falseed, looking mostly like he's bodyguarding the human.
"Err... no, can't say I have," says Brogg.
Brogg slowly sticks one meaty finger in his nostril, then flicks away an enormous booger, which simply underscores his apparent "big dumb guy" facade.
Bragg nods, but doesn't say much. He adjusts his baldric and takes in the sights of the city with a slightly downturned expression.
"If we stay together people will probably just give us all a wide berth," suggests Brogg. |