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"Oh goody..." Jake says wearily.
"And no-one else bought a round..." Jake mumbles before running outside, scimitar drawn.
Jake sets aside his grumpiness about buying drinks and with a grin starts to dance his own impromptu jig.
Jake sighs as the drinks orders begin...
Jake looks mournfully at his few remaining coins, and buys three pitchers of ale when they get to a suitable establishment.
Jake looks bewildered, "Drinks! What?"
"A wise choice. Jake Nimbletoes," Jake says extending a hand, "And you are?"
Jake says sotto voce to Elmo "Touchy, isn't he?" Aloud he replies, "We are indeed on our way to investigate Orcus cult goings-on. If you're involved, you better watch it! If not, then you can join us in smashing their deluded heads."
"What have dogs got to do with this?" Jake replies, clearly only half listening. "Another victory! Haha!" he adds, clapping Elmo on the back.
"Yeah, you better run! Corellon's power too much for you?! You bet your warty hide!"
Jake utters an unearthly note and seems to glow with divine light. His friends (old and new) feel their spirits kindled and renewed vigour in their limbs.
"Yeah, great..." Jake mutters, "Not much call for that, being a servant of divine will and all..."
"Hold, vile ones! Your doom is at hand!" announces a loud, strident, and somewhat manic voice.
Jake goes to investigate, scimitar drawn.
"Not again!"
"There was a young deva called Michael... who was in a reincarnation cycle, he got born anew, ended up in the- What was that!? Probably nothing."
"I shall go second!"
"Farewell, Yrenn!"
"Indubitably! A good plan, sir."
"Excellent!"
"So, are we walking there? I sort of assumed we were... unless there are ponies to be had."
Jake looks bemused at the dragonborn, "Oh aha! Wait, I get it, you think there's something funny going on! Aha! That's amusing, because I thought they same thing about you two! Being reptiles and all, I only have your word for it that you're both chaps. If the two of you want to, y'know then by all means, but what you get up to is your business. Not that there's anything wrong with that, indeed I have met many valiant folk of the other persuasion. I remember this one time..." Jake goes off onto a ramble.
"Only for today, they'll spoil otherwise. The rest of it is variously beef jerky, biscuits, sausage, carrots..." Jake reels off a list of foodstuffs.
Jake sighs heavily, "Nonono, not just lunch. Lunch is merely one of many essential liminal consumption periods throughout the day."
Jake looks at Elmo sternly, "Because you were off galivanting with this one," he says, thumbing at Ba'az. "Right, I have my equipment ready, as well as the most important item in our, well, my, arsenal."
"There was a young lady from Fallcrest
"Now, where did those knives and forks go..."
Jake will perfect his plate juggling act. "Bone china is the hardest! To catch, that is. It actually breaks pretty easily."
Jake scrawls various notes in red pastel on Elmo's meisterwerk. Examples include: "What about the creepy girls?" "I think you'll find that was my idea!" "Well I knew there was something weird about him..."
"A marshal... huh, well, who knew? Just goes to show you can't judge by appearances." Jake mutters without realising that his mutters are quite loud. "Very well!" he says in a normal tone of voice (i.e. like someone trying to stop traffic) "Such evil must be stopped! We shall accompany you!"
Jake centres himself and a bright light leaps forth from his holy symbol!
Jake slashes in a frenzy but then withdraws, realising that he is in fact not all that good a swordsman.
Jake yells a rebel yell, and dives into the fray, slashing madly at Logan's foe.
"Now, what's all this fuss about?!" Jake blusters, "Aagh! Rats!" he exclaims, firing off a bolt of light.
Jake shuffles his feet in restlessness, "Erm... can we find some cultists to smite, please?" he says in a slightly peeved manner.
"Humph."
Jake harrumphs, "Yeah that was good and all, but they didn't feel the power of radiance quite as much as they ought."
Jake's eyes shine as he directs another musical bolt at the last zombie.
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