Lagash nods at Jeggrim - True, but also we may be alienating a fellow traveller, when also we don't know if it will be the last chance to trade some words with her. Lagash raises his mug at Marianne, offering: Friend, an idea for you and for all, let us raise our drinks and toast to what our heart calls out - I want to know what's deep inside all of you that now stand around me - be truthful or lie if needed - in the end it will always say something about you. I will start myself. Lagash's eyes seem to freeze there for a second, and his fanged maw seems to soften ever so slightly, but he immediately returns to his usual somber self, proclaiming: To Revenge. And with that, he pours his mug down the throat and looks intently to Marianne, waiting her toast.
Seeing the halfling wrapping around Marianne, Lagash cannot help a grin. Marianne, you are absolutely right - I have been on the road for too long now, and I guess it is wearing down on all the shine and politeness that I may have garnered over the years... I guess boys will be boys, and we are all getting carried away by the environment we are in.
Lagash is surprisingly cordial, barring any half-orc misconceptions. He seems brooding and to himself, but also having no qualms in making new acquaintances, and promptly returns Jutmon's greeting with an outstretched hand. May I offer you a drink then? What will you be having? Books you say? I pack quite a few in my backpack - what is the subject that gets you so concentrated in such a rowdy atmosphere?
Wow I was missing this assembly :D Hope you sre well on the way to recover Jrggrim Lagash has been brooding in the corner - he is fond of partying as the next one, but he seems to be getting restless. Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 BAM!! I have to hand it to you Fulito, I have never seen such a many skills gathered in a single person - my hat off to you SIR! - he comments taking off his hat and bowing deeply. Now you dwarven boys, I mean... I would get into that game but I do not want you to be put to shame by an half breed so... He lets out a roaring laughter but then falls suddenly silent. A few seconds later, sternly gazing into each of the surrounding troupe he adds: Now listen. I do not stand in the way of free will, that is the stuff of gods, though not any that I would esteem much, but then again, on this one you need to heed me - Marianne, I will be your bodyguard for a month; Fulito, I will SING with you; Jeggrim and Staryth, I will arm wrestle you both; Damaran, I will dance with you; and Tagrum, I will pay you rounds for a month and a half - but please, no more spoiled drinks now. And this time I am serious.
After exchanging brief pleasentries with the man in red, and understanding that nothing more will be gleaned out of him, Lagash returns to the bar. When confronted with the drinking challenge, he cannot help but frown at the suggestion. Now, now, boys and girls. Let's drink and enjoy the company of each other but please, I do not want to see spoiled drinks being tossed around - even WORSE, being drank! - He actually seems to be upset at this situation... Heck Gil! I will pay you NOT to serve spoiled drinks to anyone - even better, I will pay rounds of decent ale to all around if needed, so that no one drinks from that apalling beverage - I'm no obsessed zealot, but drinking tainted beverages is an offense to the Gods, by Cailean! - he adds in, as he toys with the mug symbol pendant around his neck.
Lagash walks up to the man in red's table and pauses there for a moment. By the way, I picture Lagash bearing the looks of Solomon Kane (the comics one, not the movie), for those that are familiar with it - would be the epitome of the Inquisitor, without the gun of course :D Looking from below the rim of his wide brim hat, he observes the man for just a split second, before saying: Good evening Sir, I am not much for the wiry sly approach, and I dislike skulking, or tip-toeing around the matters at hand - I am sure you have noticed our... colorful congregation at the bar over there, as much as we have noticed your careful observation of the gathered assembly at this... hm... fine alehouse... As he removes his hat, Lagash cannot but show again that constant hint of a smile at the corner of his fanged mouth. Now... We have been told that you would be the person to address if we were to be looking for an employment, mainly with a dash of adventure. And by looking around at the remaining patrons, I do not hesitate in saying that, whatever the tasks, if any, you may have in mind, you would surely be looking in the right direction if at us. And let me add that, whatever information you may need, there is nothing like an open discussion - no need for divinations, just straight questions over a mug of fine ale. On us of course. Diplomacy if needed: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Let me see if I can bring any additional insight as to this persons' intent. Lagash observes the man intently - he seems to have no qualms in showing that he is observing him. Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
In the meantime he keeps on going at his ale and turns to Marianne: I have to admit I am getting a tad tired of all this waiting game - I guess my orc half - he winks at the dwarves - seems to be pulling me to action. I'm starting to feel the urge to go at that table and just sit down for a chit chat.
If the world will ever come to an end, I'm guessing it will only happen for the rebirth of something else - i don't think the cycle will ever stop. But there is enough madness going around to make it end, of that you can be sure of... - Lagash adds matter of fact while he gulps down on his ale. But you know what, in spite of all the merry dancing, singing and drinking, I do think we are here for a reason - I for one will not stand idly by, while this "end of the world" comes about - I'll sink my teeth into it, and pass judgment if i need to. I intend to stick around for a loooong time. - he puts in with another smile.
It's not hard to recognize the symbol of Cayden Cailean hanging around this half-breed neck - standing for Freedom, Ale, Wine and Bravery, usually held dear by those holding freedom and adventure in high regard, opposing tyranny and oppression on principle. The fact that this is a God that willingly accepts challenges when they are issued, may account for some of the bravado spewing from this half-orc standing in front of you... You are absolutely correct master dwarf, but worship is sort of a strong word - let's say Cayden and me are travelling companions. He smiles as he raises his mug at Jeggrim: Thank you for the drinks short-breed! The next round is on me.
Lagash stares at Jeggrim for a moment, the hint of a smile always playing at the corner of his lips, then offers: Well, I don't tend to bleed much - still have to find someone that can actually put their money where their mouth is, and draw anything but a smile from my face. But hey, stick around and you may find out - With a laughter he adds: As for trusting me, you better not, because I will not be trusting you until you offer me an ale!
The massive half-orc that has been sitting in the corner, stands up and walks to the other side of the tavern - by midway he addresses the halfling: Your voice drifts way beyond your size friend, I was not expecting that at all - the tone was not much to my liking but the melody was simply fabulous. Good work! From there he heads up to the dwarves, and the lady next to them - I'm not much for trying to impress anyone but... Any of you know who that one is? By the way, I am Lagash.
The half-orc sits to one side of the room, quitely surveying the scene - his feet are casually thrown over the table, alongside a well tended slender blade and a buckler shield. One of the patrons, slightly innebriated by the watery ale, trips over himself, almost landing on top of the silent Lagash - a short, tense moment ensues, during which their eyes are locked and it seems the stern half-orc will throw himself at the drunken man. Better go along your merry way fool, and careful where you step, lest you create any more aggravation. Begone! - he adds with a low snarl, as the poor soul turns tail and runs off as fast as his alcohol numbed legs allow. Lagash settles back in his chair, signaling the serving wench for another ale, and throwing a toothy, mischievious grin towards Marianne. |