Same here - dropping in from time to time, and ready to pick up at any point.
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Lotar keeps quiet, eyes skimming the little hill for more of the madness that befell them in the tent.
Lotar continues to saunter toward the hill. His eyes scan the hill for anything suspicious -- though at this point most everything is suspicious, after the jester, the light, the people who didn't see the light... Perhaps I shoulda taken that left turn at Alburk on the way to the aboveground...
Lotar begins to walk with the crowd. He mutters to the closest of the group, I saw ye jump at the flash, too. Why d'ye think no one else saw it? He looks suspiciously at his empty tankard.
Despite having a half-full tankard in hand, Lotar springs nimbly out of the box, rolls sideways across the balls of his feet, and comes to a stop just short of the stage. He has spilled but a few suds. Lotar glances at his beer. Still there. Well played, laddie. One audience member begins to clap, then realizes that no one else is clapping and that the rolling dwarf must not be part of the show. Lotar looks up and sees that several other audience members are giving Lotar and his companions odd looks. Did they not see the explosion? Lotar offers to help Varian and Kearra up, then returns to his seat and hides his face behind his tankard.
Lotar grins---trying not to beam---at the crowd's approbation of his response to the jester. He stacks a silver on top of the coins Varian gives the candy girl. And a mint fer me, thank ye He makes an attempt at a grandfatherly wink - - and more or less carries it off.
Lotar remains stone-faced, his eyes fixed on the jester. Better'n'a headless one. Got anything funny? Yer hat don't count.
Lotar grits his teeth at the jester's mock beard. His hand goes to his knife. Ere, come closer and I'll shave ye, fool.
Lotar grunts disapprovingly at the announcement of tickets going fast and tries to subtly nudge forward through the crowd. He is, however, only so subtle...
Lotar shrugs, then claps along with the smith. Should be somethin' interesting, or they wouldn't keep prattling on about how the "big finale" is coming. I'd reckon it beats watching mushrooms grow, and so as long as that's met I won't complain... much.
Lotar watches the dancers prepare themselves and stifles a yawn. He then elbows his way toward the counter of the beer stand to get another round.
Aye, what's to compete? They're all just prancin' around. He takes a sip of beer and nonetheless watches intently as the competitors prepare to begin. Tho I heard in Lemygrad there's a "metal dance" competition, where the band plays steel drums, sheets of copper, zithars with steel strings, and so on, hard as they can, and the last lad 'oos not pushed off the floor or knocked over wins. He shrugs. Wonder if that Kearra'll knock anyone over?
Lotar takes his beer and a seat that will give him a view of the dance competition. PRost!
Lotar turns to Varian. All right, lad, looks like ye owe me a silver. Let's spend it at that beer stand over there - I've a mind to drink until the finale starts.
Dude, Costco has a magic items aisle?! That's worth the price of membership by itself! ;PPP
Lotar claps emphatically. Ha HA! He looks over at Varian and gives him a wee nudge. Ha Haa! Three cheers for the winners!
That's the spirit, lad. A regular gambler's likely a degenerate, but a small wager once in a while is jest good fun. He turns toward the stage and hollers, Git 'em, Pushie!
Lotar watches the competitors in the first round, then leans over to Varian. One o'them's got to have this. Friendly wager? I'd put a silver on the old man, but that woman's got some muscle.
Lotar turns the band over in his hands, inspecting it closely as the lady behind the counter explains it to him. As she finishes, he says, Many thanks, lass, and turns to join Varian. Ooh, mithril! He might have the better prize! He grins at the man's obvious excitement. Let's go see that strength contest, lad. I'd like to see if the old man or the she-orc can win it.
I was about to link a video of some classic Billy Idol song, but they're all too classic for words.
Lotar smiles broadly at Varian's compliment. He is immediately distracted by the parchment pieces. Hmm, some concoction, something I won't be able to read, and a (probably human-made) wrist-thing with a bad joke. I'd best try the wristband.
After Varian's second attempt, Lotar steps up. That's no' bad, lad. 'Ere, I'll show ye how ta do it.
Lotar grimaces after missing the last one. Shouldn't'ae had that last pint. That toss was off, and me accent's showing somethin' awful right now.
Lotar looks at Varian as they stroll to the ticket booth, then the ring toss booth. Well, lad, hokey spells and arcane nonsense are no match for good steel at yer side, that's fer sure. Good to know yer not some fool that throws yer life at any pile o'coin that comes along. His eyes harden for a beat.
Lotar rolls his eyes at the dance competition. He goes to offer money to Pushie and Pasie, but Varian beats him to it. Lotar goes with Varian toward the ring toss. Looking for work, are ye? Judging by the way ye drew yer sword in there, ye seem like a lad that works a rough trade. I'm looking fer work myself.
Lotar watches as the others begin to leave. These freaks are too entertaining not to keep up with for tonight. I can drink myself to sleep later. He downs what remains of his beverage, leaves proper coinage for the bartender, and heads out.
Lotar gives Kearra a sidelong glance as she nudges him. A half-orc that wants to be drinking buddies? Things are very different here. He stops mid-guzzle and stares agape when Pushie disappears, then starts to set down his mug when Varian draws his sword. He picks his mug back up as the threat of violence dissipates. At the mention of the possibility of summoned ale, he shoots Melanie a worried glance, then shoots daggers at the bartender. Probably not summoned, but sometimes doctored. Barkeep may have some fenwhistle - he seems to like his herbs.
Yeah, I'm generally against transcribing accents, but that's because of the (few?) people who go over the top. I'll continue ta play it by ear, and if we've a wee issue I'll straighten 'er out. I would use the unreadable over the top style for when Lotar speaks dwarvish, but I suppose I really should be using Norwegian or German (or Hebrew) for that. Oy. מה אתה הולך לעשות
Old Man Stremf FTW! Also, I'm still not sure whether to stay off the "dwarven" Scottish accent or jump in with both feet. Comments and suggestions accepted.
Lotar grins and shrugs. Heh. Ye should see some of the old miners and smiths where I come from. If 'e hasn't keeled over, a codger that's spent his life at the coalface kin still handle most young bucks. We say 'e's got "ol' dwarf strenth." Well, that's old man strenth right there.
Friend dwarf? That's a new one I suppose you're right, greenie. I come here looking for good work for a good axe, and all I get's the faire and this interesting pair. He half-salutes Pasie and Pushie with his mug. Then he shrugs. Might as well pl- I'm not much for faire games, but I can DRINK by day and drink more by night! Lotar holds his mug high, drains it, and looks for a refill.
Lotar throws his head back with a mighty laugh as well. He grins at Pushie. Not bad for an old duffer! Not bad at all! Yer friend may not be the brightest, but she knows how to play the shark, and she's got a strong arm to back her up. You all here for the fair?
Lotar takes a sip of beer and leans back. Sweet! I like this halfling and her old man, too. Ye gods, he looks almost as fit as me! Don't hurt 'im too bad, old fella. We need that pouring arm in good condition. Ha!
Lotar's ears prick up at Varian's comments about trusting dwarves and he strolls toward the growing group. Any human that knows to trust dwarfs about ale, smithing, and architecture's got to have a good head on his shoulders. Grumbling in his belly reminds him that, like Pushie, he likes to eat, too. However, he's just a bit too slow to catch the barkeep. I'll- Damn hasty humans. Seeing that Kearra is engaging his new buddy Varian, he turns to Pasie, Thanks fer the round, wee lass. Here's to ye! You and yer, uh, pal new to town as well?
Lotar eyes the bartender. Well, I'll take my dwarven brew un-doctored, if you please. Tell whoever is your head brewer that good dwarven stout isn't to be futzed with, and if I'm here for any length of time I could teach them a thing or two... He then turns back to Kearra, his features wrenched as if in thought or confusion. "Indescribable" - that's a pretty big word you've got there, lass, but you've used it right. The thing you might not know, and ol' Gutweed over there certainly doesn't, is that while most surface folk will tell you that ale and stout are different things, a stout is really just a style of ale - it's still a top-fermented beer that's kept at surface-room temperatures to ferment, just with some roasted barley or sugar added... He pauses to watch her face for a moment---There's no way a green-skin follows this---then continues. In any case, no one should ever ruin good dwarven beer with glance at bartender, fern juice! Now that he's set everyone straight, Lotar sticks a thumb in his belt and looks over the place. Sure'n there's nothing like a good dive, though.
Lotar looks at the battle-worn face raising an eyebrow at him. Not that you'd know the difference, but this barkeep- he jerks an accusative thumb toward the bartender- put Salty Gutweed Fern in your dwarven stout! Lotar's voice rises as he turns toward the barkeep. Now it sounds like garbage, and it is, BECAUSE IT TAKES AWAY THE TASTE OF THE ALCOHOL! Arms akimbo, he shakes his head at the bartender, but just as he opens his mouth to admonish the bartender for the double crime of (a) serving good stout to a greenskin and (b) putting a SALTY FERN in beer without irony, a halfling gets up on a barstool and starts offering to buy drinks. Lotar shuts his trap and waits for the bartender to make the next move. This place is getting VERY interesting very quickly.
Lotar glances over his shoulder at the noise from the street, but keeps his focus on the bartender's challenge. "Prove your worth, eh?" He cranes his neck toward the half-orc.
Before the barkeep of the Hare's Shanty stands a ruddy-faced dwarf, pointing and waving at the innkeeper as though lecturing a child. You need to double-hop this swill if it's not served within two weeks of kegging! Personally, I'd use the aromatic hops they grow by the Inland Sea - sure, they cost more, but they add a crispness that this drek sorely lacks. Have you no pride? Do you like for your beer to taste like watered-down horse piss? Feckin' humans. Half of 'em wouldn't know good beer if they drowned in it. The other half wouldn't care.
I'm likely to be trying to get a(nother) drink as well, perhaps even giving the head brewer some unsolicited advice, whether he appreciates it or not.
*raises hand, waves it like teacher's pet ready to answer a question* Bringing back something from the recruitment thread:
Sounds about right to me. Getting and using teamwork feats (those two in particular) could be fun with all this melee action. I see Lotar getting right up in the middle of the action, smashing whatever gets in the way. As we go on and he becomes more comfortable with the idea that going down in a blaze of glory might not be necessary, I'm toying with the idea of using a shield and going pretty tanky. We'll just have to see how it goes...
HARR! Looks like we might be seeing some action! Looking forward to the party of fighting and feats (and vibrating halflings)! I'll echo the yuge THANKS to Roycilo for his heart and balls - Here's to ye! |