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"Perception Check: 1d20 + 2 (18) + 2 = 20" Hennon swivels to face the newcomer. "Hennon love venison! Hennon am pleased to meet you, Raven." A slight string of drool spills over his lower lip and clings to his tunic and he slowly peels his eyes from the deer carcass and turns to Abbrathil. "Hennon like the name Abbra. Short and nice. Hennon will call you that."
Hennon stares at the gnome and blinks repeatedly, dumbfounded, then begins to nod understandingly. "Antimonal symbols. Yes. Hennon am for liking them, too." He smiles. "Hennon am for liking you, too, Amma --- Abbra --- ... Nev --- ... Small friend." He pats Abbrathil as lightly as he can on the head and then scans the crowd for more adventurers. "Are you for thinking more are coming?"
Hennon grins lopsidedly at the small gnome and stoops to address him, but stops as the Mayor introduces him and waits for him to finish. After the Mayor has turned back to the crowd he offers the gnome his giant right hand. "Herman am not here today. Maybe him show up later. Hennon am here, though, and am liking to say hello to..." he screws up his mouth for a moment, then says "Abbramari."
Hennon slowly rolls his giant, gray-green and currently smooth shaven head from side to side, looking for any indication of who else might be going forward. Seeing none, and growing uncomfortable in his father's scratchy wool cloak, he bends down and places a gentle but slobbery kiss on the forehead of the small old woman next to him. "Bye, Mama. Hennon will miss you." The woman takes one of Hennon's massive hands in her own and squeezes it as a tear runs down her cheek. "Come home safe, Hennon. You're father would be proud of you." Hennon nods once, then begins to move toward the mayor. He stops almost immediately, however, finding the way blocked by throngs of people. Scanning the crowds left and right, and still finding no passage to the mayor, Hennon begins to clumsily pick his way through the crowd, stepping on no shortage of toes and generally irritating everyone he passes. "Pardon for excusing. Hennon am coming through to see the boss." As he nears the front, the crowd begins to part in front of him as they hear his gruff voice - most of them giving him as wide a berth as possible. Somewhere off to his right, Hennon hears some of his former classmates snickering. "Look, Pavel, the half-wit is going!" The other responds in as deep a voice as his pubescent vocal chords would allow "Hennon am sorry for being stupid, but Hennon can chop -- that help?" The snickers spread slightly. Hennon tries to ignore them, but can't and steps on an old man's foot. The man curses and spits on Hennon's foot. Hennon grimaces and looks at him apologetically, "Hennon am sorry. Hennon am sorry." When the half-orc finally reaches the front of the crowd, he slowly and uncomfortably makes his way up to the mayor. A new tunic is stretched tightly over the splint mail that moans slightly as he walks, and a dark gray hooded cloak with the hood down spreads over his shoulders and down his back. A pair of well-worn leather boots cover's his feet and he carries a new backpack easily over one shoulder. Most prominent, however, is the fearsome orc double-axe strapped to the middle of his back. His walk is plodding and uncertain, but his trajectory is straight as an arrow as he trudges toward Mayor Uptal. Stopping before the mayor and his pony, Hennon glances uncertainly back toward his mother, but can't find her in the crowd. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, then says: "Good morning, Boss. Hennon am here and slept well. We go now?" |
