Cottar Whitbottom's page

Sorry, everyone. Been under the weather all of last week and the weekend with the flu. I should be back among the living and posting tomorrow.

Standing next to Junior, Cottar nods in agreement with the sorcerer and waiting to hear the smiths thoughts about the shovels. Afterwards, he sniffs the air and asks "What is it that you are throwing on the fire to keep them bugs away?"

"No one is laughing at you, mate," Cottar says as he jumps up on a chair and squats down to the man's level. "What is IT? That doll?"

"Yes, he mentioned you, indeed," Cottar smiles and bows low to the gnome. "Cottar Whitbottom, at your service. And yes, I'll take some of that beet juice." The halfling smacks his neck with his left hand to fend off a stray mosquito while extending his right to offer a friendly hand-shake to Galia. Taking the beet juice from the gnome, he continues speaking while pulling out a small flask and pouring its contents into the juice. "What can you tell us about the happenings here? It's worse than we expected," he says giving the concotion a swirl with his index finger before dabbing off the liquid behind his ear and taking a large swig.

"Yes!" the ragged haired halfling exclaims. "Where did you get the cider? And do they, by chance, have anything a little stronger? Hard Cider? Ale? Beer? No... Damn!" He says clearly disappointed. "Ok, ok. Focus, Cottar," he mumbles to himself.

"Do we have any idea where, near Shimmerford, the mosquitoes seem to be originating? Or any where that seems to be more affected?" He scratches his bushy hair a moment. "Or is there anyone in Shimmerford that may have more information for us?"

Dotting in.