Bruno the Fat NPC's page

I thought we had moved the people down to the secret room on the 2nd floor?!

Yes, that's where they (and you) are now. But the suggestion now is to move the camp down to the wizard's tomb on level 4.

Let me get this straight, you let our prisoner die of starvation when we left him in your care? he says as he loosens his sword in his scabbard.

"Erm... well... easy now."

"No, he didn't starve to death. It was strangulation."

"But we were rationing what food we had, which wasn't a lot. And we had to feed him too. He wasn't satisfied with half-rations. Well, we sure as hell weren't going to give him more than what we got!"

"We've had that bugger here for almost a week. What the hell were we keeping him here for anyway?"

For the record you captured the goblin on day 1, and it is now day 6. The goblin was not simply going to be held in stasis forever, and no one has shown any interest in it for a while.

Only good goblin is a dead one. Shame you let him off so easy.

"Then I suppose you could say that he converted. Nice that a goblin can 'find religion.' Heh."

"And I appreciate the food. Though honestly, I could really kill for an orange right now. Or even a cabbage. There's only so many ways you can cook rat."

Bruno grins at the appearance of the group.

"Welcome back! We were starting to get worried!"

"Not a lot happened while you were gone. You missed a wicked sandstorm though. It started yesterday, and blew itself out a few hours ago. We could hear it howling through the chimney."

"Also, that goblin died. Shame, yes, we were all quite broken up about it. He wouldn't stop screaming about how hungry he was, even when he was gagged. Then he ... ah... strangled himself while we were asleep. It happens to goblins, apparently."

Sample post 1: Dialogue

Bruno looks around the room at the people assembled. He realizes that the narrative of his actions are described in ordinary text.

"This is what it looks like when I speak," he says. "My speech is in bold."

He scratches his chin, pondering the people assembled before them. I wonder if they know that this is what my thoughts look like, he muses. My thoughts and internal dialogue are in italics.

He leans over to the scruffy man. "This is what it looks like when I whisper," he whispers. "The text is smaller and also in italics."

"Umpopo mau mwatabulu tse khohor ma 'e. Pata bu hakeh machek tse fagalor purah," he says sagely.

GM: This is an out of character comment, such as a rules question for the GM. If it is directed at a specific person it helps if you show who it is aimed at.

"All right then... One more trip should do it," Bruno says. He hefts his crossbow and prepares to head back down the stairs.

"Rat meat, eh? Well, I suppose beggars can't be choosers. I hear it tastes like chicken! Heh."

Bruno begins to stoke the small fire they have in preparation of cooking the rats.

How many half-meals do you want to give them? Montague has taken 6 of the 28 rat half meals, leaving 22. Bruno's intent (if given the lot) is to cook up 9 of the half-meals now and dole that out to the NPCs, which would bring them up to 3 half-meals each for the day, enough to bring their thirst and hunger count down a bit.

Bruno rises slowly to his feet.

"Gods, I have the worst hangover I've had in years. It's so unfair that I didn't get drunk first! Hah."

Bruno glad to see you are holding on. As is Thylla and the others I see. We discovered a room inside that has two secret entrances. My suggestion is that we relocate all of you to the room below.

He looks over at the group and nods. "That sounds reasonable. Some of these folks will need help getting down there. We do need water soon."

Points to the goblin, There is always some fresh goblin meat. he says with a grin.

Bruno goggles for a moment and looks at the goblin. Smelldox suddenly looks very scared and starts squirming in his bonds. Bruno looks back to Fistep, and sees that he is smiling.

"Hah! You had me going there for a minute. I suppose you want us to keep an eye on these prisoners?"

Bruno the Fat looks up from where he lies on the floor. He sits up limply as you approach.

"Ahhh... *cough* the conquering heroes return! We were getting a bit worried. So... did you find any water? The food you sent helped, but we're in a bad way here."

"We moved the camp in here to get out of the sun."

Ferrous reaches down to the Hobgoblin's corpse plucking out the crossbow bolt. He looks at it briefly before tossing it to Bruno. You use a crossbow, is it any good? .

Bruno looks like he is melting and is about to faint from the heat. He tries to catch the bolt, but fumbles and drops it. Bending over with a groan he picks the bolt up and starts examining it.

"Nothing wrong with it... it should still be usable. Prolly not made by goblins, actually."

He sits down with a sigh and leans his back against the pyramid wall. "Sorry friends, but all this marching with no water... I am spent. Some of us should go inside to see if there is water inside, but the rest of us can stay here and make a camp in the shade here. We'll be here when you get back."

Bruno gets up with a groan, and clutches his head.

"Ohhh... this 's got to be the worst hangover I've 'ad in years. Which is totally unfair seein' as I didn't 'ave a drop to drink last night."

He rubs his face and tries to shake himself awake, only this seems to irritate his headache further. "Argh. Weird dreams, wot? Thought it was rainin'. Must 'ave been wishful thinkin'."

"Smash em?" Bruno looks about as this is a great joke. "Hah! Smash em indeed! We certainly will! I swear by Bacchus, this trail is paved with orc bones."

Bruno looks expectantly as the wine jug gets passed around, clearly hoping some will be left when he gets it again.

"But always remember this: don't *hic* let them draw you away from the caravan. We don't give chase. If you head out on your own, you could be swarmed, and picked off."

"Besides, if we let the ones that run live, we train them to be cowards. Hah! It's like a *hic* breeding program for wimpy orcs!"

Bruno eagerly accepts the jug back, and seems overjoyed that there is some wine left.

"One day, we should come in force, and sweep the orcs from this miserable plain. But the problem is, nobody else wants this land; it's just miles and miles of dry grass."

"And don't worry, my wizardly friend. We all know what our job is and nobody expects ...*hic*... you to go rushing down there with a sword in your hand. The caravan master is always sure to hire a good number of magicians - it gives us an edge the orcs don't have a counter to. They do have their witch doctors... but not *hic* many."

A trifle unsteady, a heavyset mercenary shambles over to the fire and plops himself down. He takes a long draught from a large clay jug.

"Aye, we did well today. Sent them runnin', we did. We did all right. *Hic*"

"A'course, that was only a probe. A test, if you will. They'll likely be back, in bigger numbers. They won't follow us too far out into the desert, but if their numbers are good they'll have one more crack at us while we're still on the plain, now that they know where we are."

"They'll either come at us full-on, or they'll ...*Hic*... try and threaten us into paying a toll. If they do that, the caravan master will pay it, prob'ly. Not that he's a coward... just practical. The Yaznids'll only ask for a bribe though if they think we're too tough a nut to crack. If they think they can take us easy, they'll fight. But it never goes the way they plan... well, almost never."

"We'll lose a few if they come at us, but this train'll make it through even that. I've done this run three times already, *Hic* and we made it through each time. So don't worry! Have a drink. I'm Bruno, by the way."

Bruno gives you all a big grin and passes his jug of wine to the nearest person.