"Beer good. Maybe me join Blue Frog tribe instead, kill enemies of Blue Frog tribe. What mersenrees? What fort? Mersenrees kill enemies of Fort Tribe? So many tribes."
"Beer good. Maybe me join Blue Frog tribe instead, kill enemies of Blue Frog tribe. What mersenrees? What fort? Mersenrees kill enemies of Fort Tribe? So many tribes."
"Blue Frog is all aboot loove an peace, wee feller. Non need tebee gooin' aboot killin' when yoov goot a keg of Bloo Frog."
<Stig looks the pig merchant square in the eyes:>
Loudly:
<Stig hops off the wagon and inspects the pigs more closely, looking for the heftiest of the lot.>
He's still suspicious: Sense motive untrained (1d20=15)
<whispers to Stigwold>
"You think maybe pig man is enemy? We kill?" <hopefully>
"Thaht maht be a violation of loocul soocial moores, laddy. Av soome moore ale, wee woone."
<slowly repeated verbatim>"'Violation of loocul soocial moores?'
"So we no kill pig man?" <shrugs> "Me drink more frog blood."
When the heavily accented, barrel shaped dwarf turns up to (apparently) fix the wheel of the cart, and attention is focused in that direction, Beldan takes the opportunity to quickly rifle through the goblin’s possessions, seeing if there’s anything of interest. He’ll share, of course (well, unless he finds something really good…)
The defeated goblins yield up a tenuous bounty; total of 50 g.p. value in coin of various crowns and denominations and portable, easily salable small weapons and goods.
Much of their gear would be laughed away at the local pawn shop if the vendor was in an amicable mood, or hurled at the seller if a vicious melancholy was upon him.
He's still suspicious: Sense motive untrained (1d20=15)
The man exhibits the artfulness of a broken anvil. He would probably awaken roadkill in the process of sneaking up on it.
There is a grand and cunning game in life, and it's principles march astride the shoulders of men such as this one like wooliers dancing on the back of a herd of sheep paddocked for fleecing.
<slowly repeated verbatim>"'Violation of loocul soocial moores?'
"So we no kill pig man?" <shrugs> "Me drink more frog blood."
At this pronouncement, the man with the herding crook fails his bluff check, if indeed he attempted one.
"Uh, ooright, then...I'll just be down the rod a bit."
“Where do you hail from pigherder?” asks Beldan loudly, throwing the strange little halfling a strange little look. “And where are you headed? I shall buy one of your fine pigs also with the loot from the goblins. Five silver coins you say?”
The defeated goblins yield up a tenuous bounty; total of 50 g.p. value in coin of various crowns and denominations and portable, easily salable small weapons and goods.
Much of their gear would be laughed away at the local pawn shop if the vendor was in an amicable mood, or hurled at the seller if a vicious melancholy was upon him.
Beldan shares out the loot between himself, the two wizards, the dwarf and the halfling (because by that stage they’re there and look a little scary) and the four soldiers …. That leaves approx. 5gp, 5sp and 5cp per share.
He’ll split it so the soldiers end up with the sellable gear and the party members end up with the coin (cos it’s easier that way, unless someone has a hankering for goblin boots or something); so that’s 5gp. 5sp, 5cp each.
At the mention of jink he perks up. He produces a length of twine and grabs one of the nearest squealers with his crook, cinching it up with the twine.
"Ere's this one then, if it does suit you." It's a fine plump squealer.
"We hail from th' Peatside Thorp, is a tidy step ett way; head norther the fort back ett way I come and you've been, a tidy step or a mornin jaunt and that's Peatside Thorp. If you smell it, you can't miss it. (he laughs, the smile quickly squelched with one look at the halfling with the Johnny Weismueller template) Well, here and there, then, here and there; I see the way the wind's blowing, and we're for out of there and off to Saltmarsh then. I'll sell these rutters to make a tidy step with down the rod a bit. I'll be keeping old We Jas there, thoo, in th' back of the wagon. See, she's a magic nose for snuffling up mushrooms and all manner of tasty toadstools, she does."
To the pig-man, speaking very slowly: "Perhaps ye dint hearr soo well laddy, Ah sed AHL___TEK___TWOO! Them twoo there."
<The dwarf holds up two fingers and raps the guy in the head with a guilder - he points to a couple of sturdy looking porkers.>
Beldan takes the end of the length of string (the non pig end) with a nod of his head, placing five silver coins into the man's grubby hand - simultaneously pleased at his bargain buy, and wondering just what he is going to do with a pig.
"Pig good. Offering to new chief. We take pig to chief of Saltmarsh tribe, we kill pig and give heart to chief to eat. Make him very happy. Dwarf smart."
Thank you, sir, for taking it upon yourself to re-allocate our vanquished foes' graft, and no I don't need any extra for conquering the leader. T'was all the goodly thing to do, and of course, a deed done in good heart is it's own reward. Although the coinage is going to be rather convenient.
"Pigherd, we'll trade ye the lot fer this 'ansome feller. Ees a genius."
<gestures to Reise.>
"Rerus"
He happily takes the dwarf's money.
"Ouch, I cannit be taking on another beast of the field; I need try and lighten my load for Saltmarsh."
"Pigherd, we'll trade ye the lot fer this 'ansome feller. Ees a genius."
<gestures to Reise.>
Said to Altai in hushed tones"See, the poor dwarf is so in his cups that he couldn't assist in the retrieval of the load of lager that was under his supervision AND he can't even tell that a fine and noble being of my pedigree isn't a typical beast of burden. Sad, really. I hope the poor sot seeks some help for his affliction.....perhaps I should seek his redemption with my noble acts...maybe allow him to join me in my noble quests and gain some fame for himself, further increasing my legend......*trails off*
The pig tender moves on his way, as do the blue frog teamsters. The morning mist finally burns off, and thunderheads forming out to sea threaten a dreary afternoon.
The serfs moonlighting as traveling salesmen continue their plodding; eggs, milk, a dozen speckled geese, all offered up in turn. The most interesting sales item is an heirloom chair made entirely of reindeer horns that the owner would part with for 9 g.p.
The last one comes plodding up pulling a rickshaw piled high with peat. He's a bent backed raggedy man in his thirties, every inch of him covered in grime, his hands permanently stained a powdery green.
"Good morrow, good sires all! Say, they won't allow me make sales at the Fort this day--I have though, a proposition to make of you. Have an eye on this"...He digs through the peat moss and produces a bucket of spherical, grapefruit sized chunks of bog iron. "This'd fetch a goodly rate in Saltmarsh, and that's too far for my liking. I'm for finding MORE of this, but I'll part with this satchelfor 15 g.p."
appraise d.c. 10 or profession miner d.c.5
knowledge nature d.c. 10 or survival d.c. 15 or profession miner d.c.10
Profession Miner: 1d20 2=20
To the boy with the bog iron.
"Aye laddy, this int natural, an saying yoo this as a Dreadholder. Ahv seen some iron I have. An where dyoo say ye goot this, laddy."
<looks very serious and speaks slowly>
"An I means exactly."
“Where are all these peasants coming from?” Beldan asks incredulously, looking around at the desolate marsh beside the path. He peers more closely at the sphere of bog iron, then pulls away with a somewhat nonchalant look on his face.
“Doesn’t look very valuable to me,” he says sceptically. “And as you say, one would need to travel far to sell it … travelling expenses you know … it would be a meagre profit for me. Fifteen gold pieces is too much, what say you to twelve?”
Appraise(natural 1)-1d20+7=8
Ha! The dwarf would think THAT was worth something. Hummppph! I have better things to do than watch a merchant swindle a drunkard. Altoid! Oh, there you are, my good man. So have I told about my theories involving combustible spellcastings of the evocation persuasion? Well please, allow me to shed some light on.........*Proceeds to attempt to talk Altai into a coma over the course of the next 15-20 minutes*
"Ruhroo? Riron."
<Tenser heads back to the wagon to remind himself of the wonderful aroma of Gittik's crotch.>
“Doesn’t look very valuable to me,” he says sceptically. “And as you say, one would need to travel far to sell it … travelling expenses you know … it would be a meagre profit for me. Fifteen gold pieces is too much, what say you to twelve?”
"I say, 'hello, twelve! Oh, you'll take me down to the Hool river and buy a ride on the gillyboot?!? Don't mind then if you do.'" He spits on his hand and proferrs it to seal the deal. The spit is now green, and his hands are still green, except for the cracks and under the fingernails. They're black with dirt.
“Where are all these peasants coming from?” Beldan asks incredulously, looking around at the desolate marsh beside the path.
"Peatside Thorp and thereabouts; most folk are decided it's best to clear out for the time being. But not me. I'm for more bog iron.
Industrious Peat Pete, they'll call me. My metal balls will make me a fortune."
Profession Miner: 1d20 2=20
To the boy with the bog iron.
"Aye laddy, this int natural, an saying yoo this as a Dreadholder. Ahv seen some iron I have. An where dyoo say ye goot this, laddy."
<looks very serious and speaks slowly>
"An I means exactly."
"It's natural found in the Peat in the Hool Marshes, it is. Wasn't alway. Is now, these last of month.
I've a mind to take on some lovely Journeymen Bog Iron hunters!!! I'll start a concern, I will. A lovely guild is in the works."He flashes a genuine, winning smile. He still has more teeth than the ones he doesn't have any more, and by a wider margin than some.
"Looks lahk yoo goot yerself a wee bucket o' iron, Beldan ole son. Perhaps ye kin sell it te the smith. Well, lits bid these fellers a good day and lighten the poor mules load a wee afore we hit the road agin."
<Stig drains another pint of Blue Frog. Having finally emptied the 18th keg Stig notches the tap with his axe.>
"Demeged in the gooblin attack twas. I swear it."
<Get's back onto the wagon.>
Beldan hastily counts out twelve gold coins and presses them into Peat Bog Pete’s hand, trying not to touch said hand himself, then takes the proferred sack of iron.
“Yes, maybe the smith will give me a decent price for it. You seemed precious curious about this iron,” he says casually to Stig as they climb back atop the wagon. “Anything I should know?”
"In the hool tis yoosually the size 'n shape 'o rabbit turds. Impuure but stable, doesn't roost like mined iron. This ain't yer yoosual boog iron. I reckon we oughta geev the smithy e wee gander."
"Ay, goot tards. Lil mittel goot tards...and now, I'd hate to see the arse of the goot that squimmied those apples out. Say, then...I'm off to put this coin to good use."
He abandons his rickshaw of peat where it is, and heads down towards the ocean, thereby ostensibly to head toward the Hool River's delta and the gilly boat...
“And there goes Peat Bog Pete, off to his annual visit to the brothel no doubt,” comments Beldan. “Given the quality of young ladies I’ve noted in some of the hamlets on my journey hereabouts, that gold should see him negotiating affections for a month or more.”
"Odd. Unless, of course, they truly are the droppings of a gargantuan iron rabbit."
"Iron rabbit? Mighty the warrior that kills. Where iron rabbit, me kill, get glory."
"Jes foollow the giant carrots, wee feller."
"Giant carrots? Me no see. Ah, dwarf tell joke. Very good. (Me kill later for mocking.)"
"Odd. Unless, of course, they truly are the droppings of a gargantuan iron rabbit."
Come now, I thought you were smarter than that. The humongous 'rabbit' or whatever other type of 'eater' would more likely be flesh and blood with an ability to consume huge amounts of dirt, stone and raw ore. The ore would theoretically be unprocessed by the 'beast' and thus be excreted through the creature's digestive system. An iron rabbit would not have the internal organ properties that could process any type of organic or non-organic matter.
Pretty simple logic that I am surprised you missed...guess everyone can't be as logical as one such as.....*trails off*
"Tall human full of iron sh&t!"
"Tall human full of iron sh&t!"
*speaking in a loud tone meant for people who have problems with cognitive skills*
LITTLE WARRIOR. ME VERY SMART, SAY MUCH BIG WORDS YOU NO UNDERSTAND. ME SORRY YOU NO GET SIMPLE SCIENTIFIC FACTS. ME TRY TO TALK SIMPLER FOR YOU. Whew! That is quite taxing, trying to interact with the daft....I must give more respect for the people who work with the mentally handicapped....perhaps with my fortunes from my epic adventures I can fund.......*trails off*
"Iron rabbit? Mighty the warrior that kills. Where iron rabbit, me kill, get glory."
ROFLMAO!!!
*speaking in a loud tone meant for people who have problems with cognitive skills*
LITTLE WARRIOR. ME VERY SMART, SAY MUCH BIG WORDS YOU NO UNDERSTAND. ME SORRY YOU NO GET SIMPLE SCIENTIFIC FACTS. ME TRY TO TALK SIMPLER FOR YOU. Whew! That is quite taxing, trying to interact with the daft....I must give more respect for the people who work with the mentally handicapped....perhaps with my fortunes from my epic adventures I can fund.......*trails off*
"NOW YOU MAKE SENSE, TALL FULL-OF-IRON-SH!T HUMAN. (Me really kill him later.)"
"Okay cheeldren, enough's enough. Eff Ah gootta stoop the wagin there's goona be all hell te pay."