"I noticed--who'd have a head big enough to wear it, anyway?" Orik takes a bite of sausage.
"It might fit ol' Zincher's head--his ego's certainly big enough. Or maybe one of the Cyphermages..."
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Orik awkwardly chuckles. "I know, right?" GM Rolls:
DC 19 Sense Motive: ...he's hiding it well, but there appears to be a bit of a guilty look in his eyes.
Orik winces. "...yeah."
Orik grunts in what appears to be a mix of disappointment and irritation. "I thought there was. As it turns out, I was wrong."
"Eh, not really." Orik shrugs. "They mostly seem happy to stick around their fancy lodge and look down their noses at the rest of Riddleport, from what I've seen." "Too bad. Some of them have pretty deep pockets."
Orik smirks. "So, how much are you willing to offer me, eh?"
"Straight up? Usually about a gold piece per week." Orik rests a hand on a bag tied at his belt. "Subject to change depending on level of danger & risk involved." "Of course, for intelligent & pretty women, they might get a discount."
"So...how much were that lot in Thistletop paying you?" "Oh, a couple of platinums a month." Orik shrugs. "That's pretty much the only reason I didn't bail on them sooner. If we're not planning on burning any towns down or whatever, my rates would be considerably cheaper than that." "You never know until you ask. And he was at Thistletop for a while, never know what he might have overheard." "Tsuto's always been a stubborn bastard--probably came from either his martial arts training or elven side."
"Well, the ruin doesn't have as MUCH danger since we shut down the runewell and exorcised the ghost of the serial killer haunting it, but there's always a chance my digging could reactivate it, and cause a sinspawn to crawl out. That danger enough for you?" "..." "..." "..." A sly grin spreads across Orik's face. "...you have my attention."
"Definitely." Orik takes another draft of his ale, emptying it. "Your sheriff's been asking me if I'd be interested in guard work, but that's really not my thing. I like danger. Guarding a small town doesn't sound too exciting."
"So, enjoying the Dragon's hospitality? Ameiko sure runs a good establishment." "Oh, well enough." Orik takes a draft of his ale as Eostre's stout arrives. "The booze and food are good and well, but the atmosphere's... well, a bit too welcoming." "It's no Riddleport dive, I'll say that much."
The walk to the Rusty Dragon is calm and peaceful. A pleasant breeze hurries you along, and the sun shines brightly overhead. From the cheers, clinking glasses and general merriment that you can hear outside, the Dragon is quite busy today. Stepping through the doors shows that the common room is packed with patrons, but there's still a few seats available at the bar. A few heads turn as the doors open, and you're greeted with a collective *HURRAH!* in your direction as you step in. Orik is sitting at the bar, looking over his shoulder at where all the cheering is now being directed at. Curiously, Aldern Foxglove is there as well--he's the only person in the tavern who didn't look up at the sound of you entering. |