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There's a loud banging sound as a humongous Aasimar with a thick beard and long hair strolls through the door carrying a dead deer and a great club strapped to his back. He is wearing an outfit made from bear hides and boots made from deer skin. He drops the dead animal unceremoniously in front of the first people he sees and in a thick Kellid accent shouts:
"Feast!"
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An impossibly tall, thin and rather pregnant tiefling female stops and stares at the dead beast. She clutches the scrolls she is carrying and continues to stare, her expression is hidden by a white mask, however her form, draped in black and silver priestly robes, give away that the Phrasman witch is disgusted. As if to add to what she is thinking, the whippoorwill on her shoulder begins to scream in common.
After a few moments the skeletally thin, raven haired woman manages to splutter out. "That is NOT sanitary!"
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Unfortunately godtouched. Fortunately earthspeaker.
Pyrite. Nugget. Defend pathfinders. Kill aspis. Avenge mawangi.
Pyrite, you and your rock monster are friends of Petros the Bear-Slayer. Your enemies are now Petros' enemies, together we shall slay these...aspis...? Is dragon? Petros would welcome a change from killing Orc.
Petros is also sorry for your obvious troubles, to be one of our race is not so easy.
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A tall half elf man chuckles. "And you're CERTAIN you're luckiest? Because you look like a Pathfinder to me."
Aye! Ah've got a direct link to Lady Luck 'erself. That's Goddess Desna ta most folks. She came ta me in a dream, and she says to me, "Seamus," she says, "Ah want ya ta spread the luck around. Tell folks ta believe in the stars, and follow their dreams", she says.
Now, who am ah ta argue with a goddess, specially one dat's always been so good to me clan??? So naturally, ah agreed. And ah've been travelin' the world, spreadin' the luck around, and spreadin' faith in the stars and dreams ever since.
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Respond (in Hallitt) the lord of fire and law. He who sealed the beast within the world. Igniting his venison tenderloin via flame bolt to add a bit more char.
(In Hallitt) You speak my tongue and you are a Pathfinder, so I shall take your hand and call you friend but know this: I trust not the Fire Lord.
(In Hallit) It is against the ways of my people to tell you who to worship, but I believe you honor that divinity at thine peril, friend.
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A tall half elf man chuckles. "And you're CERTAIN you're luckiest? Because you look like a Pathfinder to me."Aye! Ah've got a direct link to Lady Luck 'erself. That's Goddess Desna ta most folks. She came ta me in a dream, and she says to me, "Seamus," she says, "Ah want ya ta spread the luck around. Tell folks ta believe in the stars, and follow their dreams", she says.
Now, who am ah ta argue with a goddess, specially one dat's always been so good to me clan??? So naturally, ah agreed. And ah've been travelin' the world, spreadin' the luck around, and spreadin' faith in the stars and dreams ever since.
Petros needs no luck, small friend. Petros makes his luck with the speed of his leg and the strength of his arm so tell your luck lady to give my luck to friend Seamus and give glory in battle to Petros!
Now You are all Pertros' friends but who is BEST friend? Who has Kellid mead? Or Dwarven Ale? Or fine Elven liquors that taste like music and smell like summer? And who has tale of glory? One cannot eat meat without ale, songs, and tales!
And where are Kellids? Surely Petros is not the only member of his people who was stupid enough to walk south?
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Friend Petros, yer a much larger and stronger man than me, so ah can see how ye'd be great in a fight. Ah'm glad we're on th' same side.
Ah'm not one to be hittin' things with a sword. But if we e'er get sent on a mission together, ah'll ask Desna to bring a bit o' luck to yer sword arm, and help ye strike down th' Society's enemies faster n' easier than ye could on yer own. Dinnae un'erestimate th' value of good luck.
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Friend Petros, yer a much larger and stronger man than me, so ah can see how ye'd be great in a fight. Ah'm glad we're on th' same side.
Ah'm not one to be hittin' things with a sword. But if we e'er get sent on a mission together, ah'll ask Desna to bring a bit o' luck to yer sword arm, and help ye strike down th' Society's enemies faster n' easier than ye could on yer own. Dinnae un'erestimate th' value of good luck.
A thousand cups of wine to you and your luck lady then, friend Seamus.
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I have a variety of alcohols from a little return party I catered for a certain Chelaxian noble. Have a keg my new kellid friend. Dont worry so much about Asmodeaus, see I am small but I have a powerful ally. The law touches all of us connects us binds us. Not crude matter are we, instead we are luminius beings of law.
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Twig takes a deep breath and listens to the conversation, her solid black eyes flick to the Asomdean and she frowns slightly for a second at his prattle about law. She turns to face him. "I'll have to disagree with you, Asmodean. We are all bound by the circle of life, death and birth. We are all made of the same soul-stuff. And we all stand before the Lady at the end of our lives."
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Law - shmlaw
You see I learned the gods when I needed my color spray to knock out the not-so-dead.
Some things break the loop, such as the not-so-dead deadies. Or ask a priest of Your-gonna-throwup.
Laws mean always and that is not always.
Stupid hell knights and their stupid laws not letting me do what I wanna do!
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Violetta looks upon the scene: a charred (not cooked) carcass, men grabbing hunks of smoking flesh from the beast like starved slaves, a giant tent having been erected INSIDE the great hall, kegs appearing as though from nowhere.
She arches a perfect, diamond-dusted eyebrow.
"Ah, Pathfinders."
Considering - only for a moment - blanketing the whole of the great hall in reversed gravity, Violetta instead teleports to her estate in Korvosa to make preparations for an expedition to the underdark.
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Guess th' Enchantress weren't interested in joinin' th' party.
As fer the conversation, ah've great respect fer all th' gods, but ah'm no fan of Asmodeus. Folks need freedom 'bove all else, ta roam, and ta be themselves. Laws should only be fer protectin' people, not fer trickin' an' enslavin' them, the way devils do.
Tha's why Desna an' me 'r no fans of them devil types.
Ah respect Pharasma, but ah don' look forward ta meetin' her, meself
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Seamus the lord of law is your biggest fan. See he knows where you are, he knows where you're going, and he sent me to help you get there. He was even kind enough to lock up the beast so we have a nice planet to live on. He even teamed up with dawnflower out of the kindness of his heart. Open yours up Seamus, let a little law in your heart.
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you
And me
You just wait and see.
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A wild looking male elf with crude hide armor, deeply tanned skin, and wild dirty red hair walks in the front door. Trotting behind him is an emerald colored triceratops.
"ugh" he grunts and goes and sits down on the floor by the fire.
Jumbo the Triceratops stands next to standing guard. Jumbo's stomach roars.
"Me just get here. Jumbo is hungry. Jumbo eat?"
The elf speaks with a deep voice and an elven accent, but his common is spoken poorly.
Jumbo's Stomach growls even louder.
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So tomorrow Petros goes forth for his first act of duty with those who seek the ways. As with all missions of war Petros knows that such a duty can always be your last. I shall need all the luck and both my arms to make me strong in battle. I dare not pray to Gorum, lest the Mountain God mistakes my pleas for weakness.
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Jumbo belches loudly, his vigil unwavering.
Amani thinks for a moment trying to remember what herbivore means. Coming to a conclusion he says "Jumbo not eat in three days. No eat not good for Jumbo. Jumbo happy to eat. Even meat. Meat makes Jumbo strong." Amani then takes a bite of meat.
He turns to the Ulfen. "Jumbo no gore you? Strange. Jumbo must think you worthy. If Jumbo think you worthy, Me think you worthy."
He then gives jumbo a hearty but friendly pat on the side, rubs him from ribs to crest, then picks off a beetle and eats it.
Jumbo burps again.
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"Three days!"
She puts one hand on her hips and the other under shakes a finger under Amani's nose
" Why hasn't the poor thing eaten in three days! He's a herbavore, he's supposed to be eating almost constantly, a DAY without grazing is supposed to be supplemented with oats..You had BETTER have a good explanation for this! "
She pulls one of the potted plants over to the dinosaur, starring daggers at Amani.
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Harumphs. " Three days without food, you're still lucky he likes YOU!"
She turns to the triceratops and mutters a quick prayer, speaking to him directly "awww its ok! You can wag your tail if you're happy. Now, how about we go to the lawn or someplace you can eat the grass without the gardeners getting mad at you hmmm?"
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Amani lets out a deep, low, growl like a jungle cat at Flutter's insult.
"Jumbo be dead if me no save him. Me kill hungry raptor when me first meet Jumbo. Me save Jumbo life. Jumbo is brother."
He turns to Jumbo and rubs his face just above his beak.
"Go eat the grass of this city. I come get you later."
Turning back to Flutter, Amani looks at her with a stern face and a look in his eyes that seems could tear through you and see your soul. He says sternly,"You be careful. If Jumbo get hurt you will feel the wrath of Amani, you will fear what come from Jungle. You will fear Mwangi. You fear me. Me no want to hurt you. Jumbo like you, so I like you. But beware."
He then resumes eating his meat.
Jumbo then trots over to the door and, turning to look at Flutter, wags his tail.
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Medly glances about as she enters the front hall. She had just arrived with Helmeroc, only to discover a gathering of Pathfinders around a barbecue in the middle of the hall.
The Varisian woman, not certain how to react, sidestepped from the doorway, allowing an Ulfen woman and a Triceratops to go by, as Helmeroc hopped over to the cooked meat and stripped a piece of for himself.
Medly scowled at Helmeroc, and strolled over to the group.
"So...is it normal for Pathfinders to have a barbecue in the front hall? I'm personally not very knowledgeable of Absolam customs, but as I've come a long way from my tribal home, I suppose it would be likely that there are differences." Medly addressed the group as a whole. Helmeroc simply continued pulling bits of meat from his chunk, swallowing them happily.
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A big, ugly tiefling with large, ram-like horns, big tusks, and several scars enters the hall and looks around.
"You are cooking? In middle of front hall?"
He approaches and examines the cooking deer.
"Plain venison? Ptooey!" he spits on the ground in disgust. "Molos can do better than that!"
"I have seasoning here. And sauces!" he takes off his backpack and starts pulling ingredients out of the bag.
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A thin figure, clad in full plate and a blue tabard walks up to the newly sprouted vegetation and pauses at the scene. Following closely behind is a large magestic male lion clad in a light chain barding, complete with shoulder spikes. The pair pause at the scene, look at each other and appear to communicate. The figure removes her helm and shakes out her dark hair.
"Well met my friend, and Erastils blessings be with you. The triceratops is beautiful! Franklin tells me you have food inside. What fare is roasting beyond? Is there to be a feast? I could help!"