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Looking a little hurt that all the goblins are dead before he could make it to them Grog turns and starts walking back toward the group. His spirits brighten some to see the child's dog mauling one of the green skin. Upon hearing the scream and barking he will take off to the north as well. "Are we coming to the rescue of a woman or a man?" He askes once he catches up with Ezren.
"Ugly runts are trying to burn the damn town down again..." Grog mutters when he comes to the scene. initiative: On his turn Grog will begin approaching the goblins, but coming at them in a wide arc to stay out of lines of friendly fire.
"Do as the gnome told you, and SHUT THE HELL UP VERMIN!" Grog roars as he hefts his axe overhead and barles toward the singing goblin. If possible Grog charges the singing goblin...if the crowd is too restrictive to charge, he'll move up and attack. battle axe attack (weilded two handed) +2 if charging
"Hurgh? Wha?" Grog shakes his head clear. "What's going on?" He roars at the sight of the bloodied dog and terrified towns folk. He pulls the battle axe out and drops his pack next to the tree (on his action). Initiative:
"Must'a been ancesters of our grey haired friend here then." Grog sais with a grin towards Ezren. You may or may not think much of her magic man, but it looks like Desna smiles upon you."
Grog makes a strang grunting noise which you figure might be a chuckle. "New folk always ask about Chopper, always in whisper too. Haven't been to his island yet, but I'd be happy to go up that way with a group who knows how to handle themselves." He looks around the assortment of warriors and adventurers. "You just might due come to think of it. As for what I can tell you about him...it's not much. Rumor sais the good dour sherif was there when he went down. If we go off playing around on the isle we should probably get with helmlock and pick his brain a little."
A thickly built man walks into the Rusty Dragon, attracted by the presence of new arrivals. He stands a little taller than average, but possesses an abundance of lean muscle, scar tissue, and chain male, giving him an imposing figure. Though not as crude looking as some of his bretheren, he possesses the thick brow and tusks of a half orc. His gear and clothing is travel worn but in good shape, functional with little flare. Several axes hang from his belt and pack, one large and the rest small. He nods to a few employees on his way in, drops his pack off at a small table and sets down. "The usual, if you would." He sais to the serving girl when she makes her way to his table...the usual being a large dark ale and whatever meat is being served. After ordering he turns to the table of new comers. "In for the festival?" His voice is a deep grumble, though not unfriedly. |
