Please give me some grace in catching up. My wife's grandfather fell off of a stepladder Thursday so we've been running errands to and from the hospital and their house.
Search Posts
Thanks! I haven't decided if it's genuine or an affectation that Pickle puts on lol
Pickle scratched his chin as he spoke. "Meitremar...descended from Theiltemar who stole a relic from a demon lord. Though this one shares the same doubts that many historians have."
"Hmmm, this one might know something..."
"This one made it safely off the ship, yes," Pickle said as he trotted up to the others. "This one, unfortunately, found nothing to help our investigation. Oh but Quatar may have?" He added with a glance to the logbook.
"This one was had less luck," Pickle said. "Retreating is probably a good idea."
“This one thinks that we should both sneak onto the ship. Double our chances of survival if we get caught…also could double our chances of getting caught,” Pickle said. Then after a moment of mulling over teh options, “This one agrees with whichever one said both! The more the merrier!”
"So, we are in the agreement, yes? To the Runelord's ship? The ship that arrived days before a man came down with a strange illness and eventually fled looking for aid? That ship?" Pickle scooped up his belongings. "This one loves that idea!"
“This one would be interested in knowing what sort of things are stored aboard a Runelord’s ship,” Pickle said. “Ordwi did ask us to investigate it. And,” he tuned his lute while he spoke, “This one can’t be the only one to see the oddity in a ship arriving in harbor and just a few days later a ‘mad’ member of the prominent clergy flees seeking aid?”
"Yes, yes. We could use all the help we can get, this one thinks."
I'm generally okay with people just buying what they need to as long as they clear it with everyone first.
“This one was hoping that you might know something about Sister Vanda and the rest of her priesthood, the Gorumites. Something named ‘Rusthenge’ might seem important to the Lord in Iron, no? ”
Playing catch up. I had to pick my son up from school Friday morning. He tested positive for Strep Throat Saturday afternoon.
Tagging along with Zarzuket, Pickle absentmindedly strummed on his lute as he spoke to tavern patrons for any information of Brother Blanton.
“This one agrees,” Pickle said. “Odd that Blanton would’ve felt such a desire to seek help for Iron Harbor when Vandra claims nothing has happened. Stranger still that Vanda would be eager to question the dero instead of dispatching it.” Pickle Tooth scratched his chin in thought. “A man is unwell. He flees his home. Is targeted by a dero with poison. Then, when his killer is brought in for justice, his sister shows more concern about questioning the dero than the fate of her slain brother? This something is not right, this one thinks. And what of Ragnulf? What discussions are to be had now of all times?...Unless something is dreadful in Iron Harbor!”
The Holiday has released me from its grasp. I'll have a post up shortly.
“This one wonders if sticking to the road would have been safer.” Pickle Tooth cast the same spell from earlier, sending multiple darts flying at one of the centipedes.
The kholo paused after finishing the spell and scratched his chin. "Perhaps we should know what these things are, yes?"
I just got error while trying to switch over to the gameplay thread.
I usually do. Sometimes I don't. But even then it's copy>paste>submit>404>wait a bit to try again>edit post to accommodate others>paste>submit>404
I'm hopeful that when Paizo gets around to their new site, we won't encounter so many 404 errors. I've been trying to post since Friday.
Pickle stood there watching as the others made it across the gap. “This one is regretting that extra helping of sausage this morning…” he muttered. "This one is not so suited for jumping gaps. This one will try but does not have a good feeling."
Heck yeah! Needle Darts!
“That one seems ‘okay,’” Pickle said to Quatar with a smile and a gesture to the gremlin in the tidepool. Pickle bounded forward. He pulled a few bits of metal from a pocket and spoke a few syllables before sending a small volley of darts at the gremlin.
Pickle Tooth stood on his toes to peer over the heads at the body. “This one thinks that you are correct,” Pickle said to Zarzuket. “This one has no way of knowing for sure but, you seem confident enough.” The kholo turned to Quatar. “This man’s dying words were a plea for help for Iron Harbor. This one thinks we ought honor his request." Pickle nodded in agreement with Johedeia "Seven bells, yes.”
Near the band, propped on a lone stool, sat Pickle Tooth. A kholo with aspirations of being a famous adventurer, he held a mug of the pumpkin ale aloft, swaying it back and forth with the rhythm of the band. He liked the tune. It was…fine. But the band had gotten so set in their routine, and so often played the same songs each night, that one could almost use their set list as a means to tell the time. Just once, Pickle wished they would let him join in. He could do that song about the dwarf who invented beer. It was a good song.
Submitting Pickle Tooth the gnoll/kholo bard with the enigma muse.
Plans for the Free Archetype would be Eldritch Researcher.
I think we can call it.
I'm still here. I've been watching to see if anyone else pops up.
Pickle slurped on the tea, expecting something truly nightmarish but was pleasantly surprised. "That hill has already come up before," he mused. "This one thinks we should start there. If nothing else, to cross it off our list."
I'm genuinely worried considering Ethel's last post. I hope all is going well for them and nothing major has happened. Also, Tropical Storm Idalia is tracking to hit me directly as a cat 3 hurricane in the next day or so. I may be out for a short while.
Pickle took a seat and smiled down at the breakfast. Now that was more like it! "This one would prefer to start before the rain hits," he said. before popping a piece of bread into his mouth. "Better to have the relief of rain later than to be swarmed while wearing wet clothes. Or so this one thinks."
"No one can be everywhere," Pickle chuckled. When he realized Shay was not, in fact, joking, Pickle strangled his laughter. "Perhaps...a night's rest will do us all good, this one thinks. Hmm?" He glanced to Dorgrum and Ethel.
Pickle leaned in conspiratorially, "You are certain it is not the witch causing these...troubles. Is there, perhaps, a cave, or bog, or some other troublesome place that she is known to haunt?"
Wife and son are cleared of covid and flu as of Thursday. The flu struck me down Thursday night/Friday morning. It hit me harder than it hit my son (I wouldn't be surprised if I had a touch of the rona too courtesy of my wife) but I tested negative for both as of 5 am this morning. I basically got his week's worth of sickness crammed into a few days. Give me some time to catch up, and I should be able to get something posted today.
"Oh? You have spare guns for us to use?" Pickle's tone implied a serious question but the twinkle in his eye gave away the joke.
Pickle squeezed his eye shut and slurped up a bit of the broth before giving up on the meal entirely. He sighed and leaned towards the others. They seemed to be getting somewhere with the barkeep at least. “Odd that everyone blames the witch when you say she is the town’s protector, this one thinks. The Ghlaunderites…they are the cultists we’ve heard about, no? And these two monster hunters, Galia mentioned seeing them as well. Did you happen to see which direction they went?”
Pickle licked his lips as a steaming bowl was brought out for him.
When no such thing happened, Pickle moved the vegetables around with his spoon. "Ethel," the Kholo scooped up one measly hunk of fat from the broth, "this one is ready to be done with this cursed town now." Pickle squeezed his eyes shut and began the arduous task of eating the "meal."
Bruh, the company my wife works for just did a 3rd round of layoffs after saying that there would be no more after the 2nd round. Surprise, surprise, now the c-suites are pushing her department to use AI.
"The inn sounds good to this one," Pickle headed into the building and picked a table for the three of them. After a moment, he flagged down an employee so they could order.
Pickle stretch the top and bottom eyelid of one eye, revealing more of the eyeball. "This one just has big eyes," he said, grinning. "Whatever we decide, this one is confident we should eat first." His stomach growled as if in confirmation.
"Only special humans can see in the dark. Most need torch or magic," Pickle said while poking through the carriage. "Unfortunate," he grumbled after coming up empty handed. He headed back toward the street. "This one would like to poke around a bit more for clues but, if it's getting too late, that is fine too."
"I suppose we could take a look. Perhaps there might be something like that hidden." Pickle joined Dorgrum near the overturned carriage.
"What's the matter, scared of what torchlight might reveal in the spooky forest?" Pickle's chuckle was cut short when a mosquito bit the inside of his ear.
Pickle gave one of the horses a pat on the side, "I am sorry for their fates." He turned his attention to the dwarf, "This one is sure the will mourn the losses." With that the kholo bard headed back over to join the others, all of his teeth showing in a wide grin. "Our first test of mind and body as adventurers, no?!"
"That...that is disconcerting, Pickle said at the wriggling vermin. He set the dwarf down in the road and moved to untether the remining horses from the carriage.
Pickle trotted over to the carriage, making sure to give the horse a wide berth, and helped the dwarf to his feet. "This one is surprised to see you moving," he said. "Come. Away from the horses before they spook again, no?"
|