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Thread: Sherwoodshire roleplaying

  1. #251
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    Walker, aware that he's talked quite a bit and may have got a little carried away with possibily-questionable details, settles into his regular comfortable pace alongside the Farmer Giles as he listens in to the conversation. He recognises the sound of the Lizardfolk tongue as Aislinn speaks, but has no understanding of it. (assuming that she is talking in Lizardfolk!)

  2. #252
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    (Apologies, saw Aislinn's reply after I posted that. He would have nodded in her direction to indicate that she is correct.)

  3. #253
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    Marron chips in “Yes, I’ve seen some Ocean Barbarians make scrimshaw.
    Oh, I should explain further about Ocean Barbarian taverns. It's true that you must bring in a weapon – but not to use it! It’s just for show – and they like to compare the blades and workmanship.
    If there is a brawl in the tavern, the Ocean Barbarians only use their fists – and happily pay up afterwards for any damage caused!
    Note that every tavern has a small arena out back where Ocean Barbarians can fight duels with wooden weapons. So they become doughty fighters – but there are no casualties…”

  4. #254
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    Saradoc smiles at Aislinn and replies (in Lizardman) “I learnt Carpentry as a trade when I was young, living in Nevrast.
    Around this time I had a nasty encounter with some vicious Empire troops, who caused me to have a boating accident in which I nearly drowned. I survived by the grace of the Arthurian Way, but lost my hearing. This is why I learnt to read lips.
    Many years later Thrimgol, the Head of the Arthurian Church in Nevrast, cured my deafness – and now I hear noise really well.
    I decided to show my thanks to the Arthurian Way by travelling round Sherwoodshire, protecting good folk
    .”

    DM: Walker and the others nearby do recognise that Lizardman is being spoken (it's a highly sibilant language.)

    Saradoc adds in Common “I know about scrimshaw – when I lived in Nevrast, some visiting Ocean Barbarians made such carvings from whale bones and walrus tusks. I could have a go at that…”

  5. #255
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    Walker cocks his head as he hears the Lizardfolk tongue being spoken. He's heard it before of course, but hasn't really mastered anything other than "Beer please" and "Thank you", and "I come in peace". Those phrases have served him well, but it doesn't seem like that is what these two are saying. He tries to make it obvious that he's not listening in and doesn't understand a word they're saying by turning to Marron, leaving Saradoc and Aislinn to converse.

    "Oh! So are they weapon-smiths as well? I try to take care of my blades as best I can when I'm out on the roads, but I know they need some better care. Maybe when we get back to the Keep, or if we encounter people who can upgrade and strengthen them....?" Walker pats the dagger at his belt. Looking at it, you can see that it's clearly well kept but has been a while without professional care.

    He also pats the sturdy staff, slung over his back. "I have to admit, I wouldn't say no to our friend here - or you! - using some carving skills to make this a bit more ... fancy. You can see..." [ Walker pulls the staff over his shoulder and shows the shaft to Marron] "... that I did start making some tally marks. No, they're not kills... I * shudder* don't like that idea, but I made marks for a tally of places I've been, places I've seen, people I've ..... you get the idea." He shrugs. "Perhaps with some artistic skill I could make this staff a story of my journeys. If you or he [Walker nods over to Saradoc, who is still in conversation in probably-Lizardfolk with Aislinn] could do that, I think it would be amazing to have a walking - hah! - tale of our adventures. Maybe one day when I'm gone someone will find my staff, or maybe it will be passed on to someone... and the carvings in it will show more than just these... [he gestures in a rather embarrassed way at the scratching he's made on the shaft] tallies...." He tails off with another shrug. He's good at shrugs.

    Brightening up, as the others may have noticed he seems to do when things seem to be getting a little too melancholy, "So, anyway, I think it would be most excellent if we could take a small - definitely just small, okay? - amount of the dragon skeleton and between you both, you could carve something maybe for the Count, but also maybe [he lowers his voice] something could be made for the family of Garm...? [brightening his tone again] And I really would think it would be great if you or Saradoc would consider spending some time to sort of make this staff into a journal........ I don't know if what I'm saying makes any sense; it's been a long day, hah."

  6. #256
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    The companionable discussion amongst the party is new to Aislinn--or feels new, anyway--and she listens avidly to Saradoc's background. She isn't exactly nostalgic for the months spent surrounded by the language he's currently speaking. But it's a hardwon skill, learning to understand and speak Lizardfolk, and she was, and is, proud to have done so under chaotic circumstances.

    "You've an able tongue for Lizardfolk," she says, switching back to Common. She doesn't want the others to think they're sharing some secret. "I'm sorry about the accident. I remember your honesty about it the other day. To be sure, I'm uneasy at the thought of sailing somewhere for any lengthy..."

    Distractedly, she reaches her hand up to rub her neck, which is where her headache seems to have moved. Letting her words trail into silence, she hears Walker talking at length about carving and his adventures and the dragon. He's certainly very enthusiastic about that dragon, commemorating the battle in multiple ways.

    He seems a likable man, as far as she can tell, and she can't think of any reason he shouldn't get his keepsake. But the others might not want to double-back to the Crag for the bones to create this scrimshaw thing.

    Aislinn flushes a little and reluctantly slips her hand into the pocket of her skirt. "I just realized," she says to Saradoc, "that I...accidentally took one of the pieces of the dragon's skeleton. From its tail." Her mind races to think of an explanation that won't make her sound, well, like she's a vengeful, superstitious thief. "Master Marron hacked away a bit too hard removing the meat. It flew up in the air and I caught it and intended to put it back but I guess I forgot."

    Her hand fishes out the mid-size segment of tailbone. She closes her fingers around it, reluctant to give it up. But she forces herself to show it to Saradoc. Hopefully he doesn't notice just how carefully it's been rubbed clean of blood and any extra bits of flesh remaining. Not a great match for the 'casual' air she's striving for.

    "Anyway here it is," she adds bluntly. Eyeing the ranger, she lifts the bone just long enough for him to see it, then returns her focus to Saradoc. "Is this enough for carving?"

  7. #257
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    Marron admits “Actually I have kept a piece of dragon bone too. I was going to give it to Count Percival as a memento when we returned to his Keep.”
    Marron slides a large bone out of his pack. “Please feel free to use this.”

    To cover his slight embarrassment, Marron now swiftly answers Walker. “Yes, Ocean Barbarians revere Weaponsmiths and the like – it’s a popular proficiency.

    I know a fair bit about this from a Sage called Merlin, who I met in Freeport. Apart from information, he buys and sells magic items! He makes some himself, but also handles trade with the Empire (as they make quite a lot of stuff.)

    Anyway, I know that it’s easy to keep our normal weapons in good order. Blacksmiths, Metalworkers, Woodworkers and Weaponsmiths can all do it.
    Also all magical weapons are practically immune to any damage!”

  8. #258
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    Saradoc looks both relieved and surprised. “I apologise – but I too snaffled a bit of the dragon!”
    He displays a small piece of bone, looks at the other two bones and adds “Aislinn, I’m sure I can carve something on all three of these.”

    The hobbit turns to Farmer Giles. “Walker has suggested that we make you a memorial for Garm out of dragon bone. Would a simple carving of his name be appropriate?”

    Farmer Giles nods thoughtfully. “That would be a welcome gesture. My family could add that to Garm’s ring you kindly recovered to make a suitable memorial.
    As I’ve said, please come with me to my farm. You can rest there (and maybe do some carving) whilst our neighbours gather for Garm’s memorial service.
    I know folk will want to thank you for your bravery.”

    Saradoc looks pleased. “I’m glad to hear that. I'll use Aislinn's piece for Garm. Then if we bring back the other two pieces of bone to the Keep, I can carve something for the Count.”

    Saradoc turns to Walker. "Your staff is impressive - may I ask if it's magical? If so, based on what Marron said, it would be then pretty safe to inscribe a few pictures on it."
    Last edited by glee; 23 Feb 2023 at 08:45 AM.

  9. #259
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    Walker can't help but narrow his eyes slightly as it appears literally everyone except him has taken a memento from his dragon. >.>


    -


    Putting aside that thought, he nods at Saradoc. "Yes, I believe it has at least some magical properties. It doesn't shoot fireballs or anything - hah! - but it does seem to be stronger and more effective than a simple piece of wood might be. I was gifted it in return for helping some druids who had a deadly menace threatening their a grove... phew, that was a number of years ago! They gave me this and said it would serve me well, as I'd served them... and it has! I should really go and visit them sometime and see how they're doing. But anyway, I digress. I would certainly love if you or Mr Marron here could make this a little more fancy. If anything, it would give me something to show to the druids when I return to them, as a sort of story of what I've been doing.


    ... Yes, it needs a picture of a dragon."
    Last edited by ping; 23 Feb 2023 at 03:11 PM.

  10. #260
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    Aislinn feels a little better seeing that the others--except Walker, ironically--have taken mementos themselves. She's a little disappointed that she won't get her piece back. Then again, it wouldn't be the same once scrimshawed. Could've sold it, though, she thinks with a grudging little frown. Not as if the Count doesn't have enough trinkets and tributes.

    Stubborn, she sidles over to Walker as they continue their brief journey. "You should have the third bone," she says under her breath. "It was on your Crag."

  11. #261
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    Saradoc cheerfully agrees to work on Walker’s staff and suggests a tree (to represent the Druids) and a dragon.

    Arriving at the farm, it is clear that preparations have been made for the memorial service. Quite a few nearby farmers and farmhands have come – and there are even a couple of local Lizardmen.
    Farmer Giles speaks first, then introduces Marron.
    Although brief, clearly the mourners are moved by the ceremony.

    Giles now appoints several farmhands to assist Saradoc in building an outdoor smoking-room.
    (This does not take long and soon the Dragon meat is being treated.)

    Meanwhile Marron is approached by several locals to discuss the Arthurian Way, whilst Walker is congratulated by many for the party slaying the terrifying Dragon.

  12. #262
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    DM: Aislinn makes an Alertness roll.

    Aislinn notices a small group of mourners on the outskirts of the farm. She sees they have gathered round a stile where a stranger is dealing some cards onto the step. An old memory stirs and so Aislinn heads over. As she arrives, Aislinn sees that another stranger is excitedly accepting some small coins from the dealer.

    DM: Aislinn makes a Prestidigitation roll.

    She recognises that the dealer is playing ‘Find the Lady’ (which is a scam where the dealer challenges the onlookers to find one Queen out of three face-down cards – but he actually palms the Queen so the punters always lose. One confederate of the dealer usually wins the first couple of games to draw the onlookers into the scam.)

    Sure enough someone Aislinn can't see insists on going first and wins a couple of rounds. He jokes loudly that 'he doesn't want to use up all the good luck' and apparently moves away. The next local eagerly steps up and loses both his first and second game.

    When he's about to try for a third time, Aislinn frowns, glances over the crowd to find the one winner pocketing his money and watching the game with a keen eye. Without a word she slips in front of the excited locals to be next in line.

    The current player gives up and Aislinn sits down before anyone complains. The dealer does a slight double-take at her bandaged face (Aislinn is used to this) but hides the reaction before he shifts the card around. She watches his swift hands carefully and, when he stops, he challenges her to ‘Find the Lady.’

  13. #263
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    The man in front of her isn't unskilled, Aislinn notes objectively, although she's seen better and more nimble action at many a table. It's not very different from Thimble-rig, which coincidentally she had just been thinking of not long ago.

    When he finally makes the switch she'd have missed it if she didn't know the common move and distraction he's used. Then he asks her to point out the Queen, and Aislinn makes a quick pretense of furrowing her brow in an attempt to discern where her royal highness might have landed.

    She gives a sidelong glance to see if any of her party is around. They're busy. Which is good, as she's not quite certain they'd approve of how much she knows of this sort of trickery. (A tiny part, though, would rather like to impress someone. She feels a lack in her life. Someone to teach her, and praise her for originality. Someone in her past did that for her, and while she can't remember exactly who, she can't forget the feeling, either.)

    After looking from card to card, she exhales and shakes her head innocently. "They moved so fast," she murmurs, as if frustrated. "I've never seen the like. One second I followed her, then suddenly, I... lost track of her." Her eyes shift upwards to meet the dealer's gaze, straight and dead serious. "I don't know if it's even fair to guess. She might have traveled anywhere. On the wings of a bird. Across the square. Of course that's just my fancy. I know she's not truly moved so far away." And her dagger-like focus stabs at the dealer's sleeve, black eyes sparking with pointed accusation even though she wears the faintest trace of a false smile.

    "I can't choose," she says, now a trifle louder so others can better hear. "Maybe it's my fault for playing any such game after so somber a funeral. Luck wouldn't follow such disrespect. Doesn't seem right, does it? I'm sure you agree," she says to the first 'player' who is so clearly working with the dealer. "Even things went so incredibly well for you."

    Aislinn holds her hand out toward the dealer, fingers beckoning not coincidentally at his sleeve again. "Will you return my coin? Have pity on me." Her voice softens again, just for the dealer. "I'll treat you in kind."

  14. #264
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    Saradoc completes the scrimshaw with Garm's name and politely hands it to Farmer Giles, who says he will add that to Garm's Ring as a memorial.

    In the group of well-wishers, Walker has recognised Radagast, a local Druid friend. They shake hands and Radagast congratulates the party then adds "Walker, I see your Staff is of the finest Tsarinan Forest Oak. Very suitable - we Druids value the work that you Rangers do. I wish you luck in your future endeavours - a talented adventuring party like this is something Sherwoodshire needs!"
    Radagast thinks a bit, then continues "By the way, I haven't heard from my illustrious colleagues in the Tsarinan Forest for some time. If you are ever up that way. do drop by and see what is afoot."

  15. #265
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    DM: The scammer makes an Alertness roll.

    The scammer’s eyes widen slightly, then shift to the man Aislinn noticed earlier. It looks as if he's going to defend himself or challenge her but clearly he realises that Aislinn knows exactly what is going on.
    So instead he whispers ‘voice’ and a loud voice from behind the crowd says "Look out! Dragon!"

    While the locals instantly scatter, Aislinn's headache pounds as she feels a vague and unsettling sense of familiarity. She can see the confederate staring balefully at her while the dealer quickly packs up - grudgingly returning Aislinn’s small stake.

    Now that only the two men and Aislinn are left by the stile, the scammer mutters “How come you know so much about the ‘game’? You’re running around with a bunch of heroes working for the Count!"
    He seems resentful and glares at her bandages. "So what's all that meant to be then? Some disguise, is it?"

    The man with him grimaces. "They must be hard-up for heroes. Wouldn't think the Guild'd allow in some pox-laden chit of a girl."

    The two crooks turn away, ready to depart.

  16. #266
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    So much happens at once, Aislinn is overwhelmed with it all. The instant fear of a dragon followed almost immediately by the certainty that not only is there no dragon, but the voice in the back was the dealer. The pain in her head blinds her and she lifts a hand to her temple. Once the crowd has dispersed thanks to the trick--a vile thing to do but also... also...

    ...Also something she can do.

    Or at least, she should be able to do it. She doesn't know how or why she thinks this, but--no, not thinks. Knows. Aislinn stares at the dealer and most of his begrudging remarks pass right through her. "What was that you did," she starts to say, stepping closer. "You--what is the spell? Is it--"

    Then the large man's insults smack her in the face. She's heard insults or intrusive comments about the material bound around half her face for as long as she began using them, but not something so crudely insinuating as pox-laden.

    She claps a hand over her cheek, feeling her skin burn beneath the material. A doxy is what he thinks her, or at least is calling her one. After a shame-filled, aghast moment that feels like a lifetime, Aislinn drops her arm, both hands now turned into fists. "Silence your filthy tongue!" she hisses up at him, then includes the dealer in her glare.

    "If you think me a poor hero... well, mayhap I'm not of the best kind. But my companions are not far--" Aislinn has to cast a sideways glance to see if she's actually accurate. She thinks she sees Walker's tall frame nearby amongst a crowd. In any event, she could call for them, so the truth doesn't matter. "And they'd be quite happy to end the careers of clumsy cheats who'd fleece a grieving crowd. Not to mention trying to escape by stirring up fear of the very beast that killed their friend? A more vile pair of louts I've not seen in--in a--"

    Again the vise around her temples tightens, but she's getting used to it and she shakily continues the questions she had for the dealer. "Listen. The voice thing," she says again, now demanding. "Tell me how you did it and I won't tell my friends what you've been up to. They'd arrest and send you to the Count for sure. Me, I'm fine with you leaving the county, if you tell me..." Aislinn tries not to sound desperate. "Please, the spell. What class is it? How do you--"

    But the men aren't staying around to tutor her in a skill, the memory of which seems to be splitting open her head. They want to be off to escape the crowd, which no doubt will want their hides for not just cheating but frightening them so cruelly. They're not getting away with this. Everyone gets away with things. Not today.

    Regardless of her tiny size compared to the dealer's confederate, she grabs onto his coat sleeve and tries to pull him closer. Given the difference in their weights and strength, Aislinn only succeeds in pulling herself closer to him in the process. But the effect is the same--she bumps up against him and says, sounding more like a girl asking for a present, "Tell me what I ask. It's the least you can do!"

    Aislinn makes a Pickpocketing roll. If successful, she aims for the confederate's pocketed winnings (and anything else she finds there).

  17. #267
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    Walker has been mingling with the village folk that he knows well after his many visits here, impressed as always how these folk can bounce back and support each other in times like this. However, all the while he is on the alert for trouble. He keeps his eyes on his new friends as they move about as well. He notes Aislinn going to the table of obvious conmen who've set up to skim coin from these poor folk in their time of grief. Scum. "Surely Aislinn wouldn't fall for that? She seems timid but not stupid... " As he watches a smile creeps over his face as he realises that she's the one winning here. Staying back among the rest of the crowd he trusts her to handle herself, she looks like she knows what she's doing and isn't falling for their trick, hah!

    Wait, aha! Even better, he sees as they appear to give up on their scamming here, knowing that someone is onto them. Aislinn appears to be confronting them and telling them to quite politely sod off. Nice one, Aislinn. Walker thinks, impressed and slightly bemused by her canniness about gambling tricks and scams.

    At that moment a voice yells out from somewhere in the crowd, "Look out! Dragon!". There are screams from the villagers as they start to try to get to safety. Walker immediately goes on the alert, scanning the horizon. He sends Eye up to get a better view from above the village, but strangely no dragon can be seen. He tries to reassure the villagers closest to him as they go to scatter, "Don't be afraid! Be calm! I've just checked the skies, there is no dragon approaching! It was probably someone thinking it would be 'funny'." His mouth twists as he says that last word, thinking that whoever shouted that must have a pretty warped sense of "humour".

    Trying to calm as many people as he can, he looks back to where Aislinn was standing with the two conmen, and sees one of them strike her across the face, "What?" he thinks in sudden alarm. He begins to push through towards her and sees the scammers apparently leaving, with Aislinn for some reason trying to drag one back...? Bemused he slows his walk and aims to get close while trying to remain inconspicuous, keeping an eye out for if they look like they're threatening violence again. He would like to get close enough to spring in if they look threatening, without interfering with whatever Aislinn is up to. It looks like... he doesn't know what it looks like is happening but it does look like she has it under control, for now. "I hope she's not hurt... she's holding her head... do I go over? Do I let her deal with whatever... this...is?. For now he will linger close and keep a watch on the trio, hopefully picking up some of what is being said. He doesn't really want to eavesdrop per se. That would be rude, but he is fairly close so if he happened to hear anything just by dint of him being close enough to help...........
    Last edited by ping; 08 Mar 2023 at 02:10 PM.

  18. #268
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    DM: Aislinn fails a Pickpocketing roll.

    The confederate spots the attempt and spins round, snarling “You silly bint! I should give you what for...”
    He starts to raise a fist, but notices that Walker is clearly watching – and instead pulls out the coins he stole and throws them at Aislinn’s feet.
    Meanwhile the scammer starts to climb the stile and laughingly says over his shoulder “Oh, I’ll tell you what I did – but you won’t understand it! I used the spell Ventriloquism … and I could have cast Wall of Fog instead. And we’re not staying in Sherwoodshire after your little performance.”

    The two crooks hurry away.

    As Aislinn picks up the coins, one of the Lizardmen who had attended the memorial comes over to her and says sibilantly in Lizardman “Aisslinn? Remember me? I’m Pssthpok and you sstayed with my tribe a year or so ago. How are you doing?

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    As Eye confirms to Walker that there is no sign of a Dragon, the Ranger and Druid Radagast successfully calm the mourners.
    Walker also keeps the two scammers under close observation. He nods and points menacingly when he catches the eye of one of the crooks … the thug promptly stops threatening Aislinn.
    It then appears that the scammers have returned some money and scurried off.

    A Lizardman now approaches Aislinn and says something in a language Walker doesn’t speak (through it sounds like Lizardman…)

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    Barely having time to regret being caught at pickpocketing, Aislinn ducks in alarm with the large man's threatening words and raised fist. But he stops and flings the coins to the ground anyway. Her attention, though, is riveted on the dealer. Ventriloquism. And Wall of Fog? She already knows the latter spell, and the former is so determinedly familiar it's trying to knock itself out of her head to be recognized.

    Dazed, she stoops to the dirt for the coins, gathering both them and her warring thoughts. They're all of a piece. A disembodied voice, the fog... even poor Wolf--assuming he was a phantasm of a wolf and not real. Tricks of imagination. Falsehoods, ruses...

    Her headache is spreading and she just kneels on the ground, absently toying with the coins. (Counting them, to be honest--even this distracted, she can't ignore the value she holds in her hand.) Then she spots Walker, who's looking in concern at her face, which she covers again in fear that the bandages have shifted. No, they are still doing their duty.

    The hissing question in her ear doesn't faze her and she doesn't even register that it's in a different language. "I am all right, thank you sir," she says automatically. "They were just gamblers and thieves, nothing I haven't--"

    Aislinn's brain catches up to what the Lizardman just said, and she spins around. "Pssthpok?!" Dark eyes wide, she examines his familiar face. Many outsiders can't tell much difference between the Lizardfolk--assuming they even bother. But after so much time in their company, Aislinn easily sees the features unique to each individual. "I remember your tribe gratefully. But it is surprising, finding you so far south."

    Now aware that Walker is close enough to hear, she puts the coins in her pocket--fully intending to return them to the man who lost them--and scrambles to her feet, somewhat disheveled. And even more confused than before. First the gambler's false dragon scare, her poor pickpocketing, nearly getting struck, her bandages, the connection between Ventriloquism and her own abilities, and now Pssthpok, a reminder of a group that knows more of her background than even she does. And a reminder of their having protected her from a darkness... she's not sure what, an enemy or monster or other great danger. She felt safer among them than she has since leaving.

    Ashen and somewhat nauseated from everything converging at once, Aislinn turns to Walker and gestures weakly to the stile. "The Dragon was false. Those men, they were trying to steal..." It's the least important thing she can think of right now, and she shakes her head and adds unnecessarily, "They're gone now. They probably saw you coming. Thank you for that, and helping calm the crowd, as well." From the concerned look he seems to be aiming at her face, she wonder if he heard that doxy insult. He seems too kind to believe such a slur--and even if he did, he likely wouldn't make her feel bad for it. Still, force of habit makes her lift her hood back up and tuck her hair beneath it, better hiding her left side, bandages and all.

    "This is Pssthpok," she blurts at last, realizing that she's being rude. She exaggerates his name slightly, since the language contains some sounds not used often in Common. "And this is Walker, a new companion." Aislinn darts a look at Walker, suddenly wondering if he intends to travel with them now. It's a presumptuous thought, but he'd be an asset for sure, even without Eye. Affable, stalwart, loyal, skilled... a worthy compatriot to be sure.

    Then, to Pssthpok again: "I did as you all suggested, I found another group to join. Not so numerous but as Scouts their skills seemed ideal, and I learned much from them. As you also recommended."

    Aislinn gives a somewhat modified translation of what she's said to Walker. "I told him you're a friend... if I may call you so. And that I am glad to be surrounded by such a brave party." She looks between the two taller beings beside her. She really wants time to digest what she just experienced with the scammer and the spells and how they are all linked to whatever is locked in her mind but clamoring to be free: to what result, she doesn't know--prize or peril.

    Druid Kitty might be the best person to ask. But Pssthpok might have information too; she always suspected her saviors hadn't told her everything. But, to be honest, she also would be glad of company while enjoying a meal. Safe company. Trustworthy and true.

    "I--I ought to return the winnings to the local who lost them," she says, a trifle reluctantly to be sure. Too short to see through the crowd, she looks up at Walker and, describing the man who'd lost those first few rounds with the dealer, asks if he can see the unlucky target.

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    Walker is quietly pleased with himself for apparently looking intimidating just then. He's always tried to be a friendly and cheerful guy - hence why all the people in the villages around are friendly and greet him (and often feed him, hah!) when he ranges by on his travels. He supposes he is fairly tall and also armed, and also has a large hawk on his shoulder. Hmm. Ok, maybe he can see their point.

    He notes that Aislinn seems bothered by something and is still concerned about her injury - is she holding her head from wear that foul person hit her? - , but leaves her to talk to this new person who is pretty clearly talking to her in the Lizardfolk tongue. "Interesting," he muses, "She didn't even hesitate to reply in their tongue...

    After a moment she turns to him and tells him of the dragon. Walker looks relieved.

    "Ah. Well, that is good, in a way. I thought I heard the shout coming from over there [he gestures over the crowd] so I assumed it was one of the villagers, which, truth be told, would have been disappointing. These are good folk and it took me aback to think one of these people would play such a prank as that. Good to know my faith in them can be restored, hah! But that's an impressive trick. You think it was one of the scammers who could cast a spell to do that?"

    "I was just keeping an eye on the crowd in general earlier when I saw you with those conmen. I was concerned at first that you had fallen for it, but I soon saw that you were winning so I left you to it. Next time I look back at you he was striking you - are you ok? Is your head ok? I'm sorry I wasn't closer, I didn't want to intrude and make you feel like I didn't trust you to deal with the situation. I only stepped closer at the end as they were walking away by that point, just in case he tried to harm you again. I guess you really pissed them off by breaking up their little scam, heh."

    As the two converse and Aislinn relays the information to him, Walker tries to practice in his head the very few words he has learned from meeting Lizardfolk in the past. When the pair appear to have finished talking and halting says in Lizardfolk,

    "Greetings Pssthpok, Aisslinn friend"

    He's pretty sure that his pronunciation was terrible, but he is sure that he knows the words for greetings and friend, he isn't sure of how to say "of". He hopes the message gets across and mutters to Aislinn, "I wanted to say Greetings Pssthpok, friend of Aislinn. I don't know if I got it right. Please tell him that's about my limit of understanding, hah!"

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    Aislinn tries to get a handle on her various emotions, and fortunately Walker is able to carry on the conversation without pausing too much for her to answer. His quick changes of subject allow her to wait for her stress to subside before responding.

    It helps that his attempt at the Lizardman's language is, well, charming if not perfect. "You got it very nearly right," she says, showing a rare smile, and passes along Walker's message. "I am lucky to be with fellow travelers who aren't too set in their ways, where other races are concerned. I befriended an Ogre and they did not flinch. I think it shows they aren't likely to... judge whatever I may tell them."

    She belatedly realizes that the ranger seems to have mistaken what occurred between her and the larger of the two scoundrels. "Oh no, he didn't hurt me," she says, forcing herself not to hide from his scrutiny. "Not physically. If you saw me adjusting my..." Her hand flutters up vaguely toward the tan cloth wound around her left side. "He just... made an ugly remark. It's nothing." She's glad to switch subjects. "The other man fooled the crowd using Ven--Ventriloquism, he called it. He stood in one place while a voice--not quite like his own--shouted from several feet away. The skill seems familiar. I think I've heard the like before," she says carefully.

    While she says this she eyes Pssthpok. It's been a while and she's forgotten how much Common he speaks. For his benefit she quickly adds something that seems worth sharing. "My friend thought I'd been struck. It mattered to him. They are not all violent," she adds, glancing at Walker without realizing she's displaying a little wariness while doing so. "Not always. They battle but only when provoked. This lot aren't the ones to start a fight."

    Aislinn hesitates before shrugging slightly. "Ought we to find Marron and Saradoc? With all...this..." She looks back near the stile, indicating the commotion. "...I've forgot what must do next. Other than get those bone carvings," she says with another tiny smile at Walker, remembering his enthusiasm for such mementos. Then her language swiftly switches to Lizardman. "Pssthpok, did you see the red dragon hunting in this area? Had you come across word of it in your travels? It was young and might have family."

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    Pssthpok smiles toothily at Walker and Aislinn.
    He says in Common to Walker “Thank you for speaking my language! Actually I learnt Common from Aislinn and taught her Lizardman in return.
    Now why don’t you two sort out that human that got cheated and then we can talk?”

    Using Aislinn’s description, Walker spots the man in question, who is standing near Marron. Once Walker tells Aislinn this, she signals Marron (using Scout Signalling) to bring the man over.
    Marron finishes reassuring the mourners that there is no dragon and politely escorts the man to Aislinn.
    Aislinn refunds the stake money and warns the man not to fall for such scams in the future. He nods gratefully and wanders off.
    Aislinn then introduces Marron to Pssthpok and they bow to each other. Pssthpok is wearing the holy symbol of the Nimue Way (a tree) and clearly recognises Marron’s symbol (a round table, representing the Arthurian Tradition.) The two exchange polite compliments on their respective beliefs.

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    Pssthpok now replies to Aislinn (in Common) “To answer your question – no, my tribe have not seen any Dragons flying overhead recently.
    You probably know that the Badlands (he gestures to the West) are believed to be infested with Dragons and Giant Insects. As that area is almost all desert, my people never go there. We need to drink water and keep hydrated as well!
    Anyway let me add my congratulations to your party for slaying the Dragon. Sherwoodshire needs adventurers like you!”

    He takes a deep breath and then continues “Aislinn, you may not remember our first meeting. My tribe live near here, but I was visiting my cousin up North near Freeport. He brought you in from the Empire River, soaking wet and half-drowned. You couldn’t tell us what had happened, but clearly you really wanted to get away from there.
    So after you were fit enough to travel, I brought you back to my tribe. Over time we managed to teach each other our languages – and you entertained us all with magical tricks and stories of Ancient History!
    Eventually we suggested you try your luck in the City of Drannasmoor. And now here you are returned – slaying Dragons and dealing with cheap scammers. What will you get up to next?!”

    Marron has listened to the story with great interest and says “I’d like to hear more of that sometime. Meanwhile Farmer Giles has offered us hospitality for the night. I think we deserve a rest…”

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    As Aislinn explains what had happened with the two men earlier, he is not quite sure what she means - surely if they slapped her, then she had done something wrong... like putting them out of some coin, for example! He shrugs, trying to show that he really hasn't looked at or pondered on her dressing. He has met people with all sorts of scars, injuries and disfigurements, so he deliberately raises himself on tiptoes while turning carefully in a circle looking for their companions. He doesn't really need to as Eye has already taken flight from his shoulder and is hovering above the crowd in bird-of-prey-mode. The crowds are starting to thin a bit making is little easier to spot... aha. Gotcha!

    As Eye is scanning the area around, Walker hears Aislinn transferring back into Lizardfolk. He assumes that Pssthpok probably knows the Common Language as most folk do, but Aislinn is clearly fluent so she is doing it for Psshtpok's benefit, not to try to exclude himself. Satisfied that this is good reasoning, He listens in, waiting for any words he might recognise. He suspects there might be one...

    Sure enough, the Ranger narrows his eyes slightly as he hears a word he knows. He understands the word for Dragon and though he couldn't hope to pronounce it, he can, however, often pick up facial expressions so as Aishlinn says this he casts his eye over the Lizardfolk friend. This is something he's not so familiar with reading.


    *[i]Walker would like to check for any facial reaction such as unexpected fear, confirmation that this is known or some sort of quick flick of the eyes. He knows what he would be looking for in a humanoid face but is unsure what to expect to see here. He's not staring, just interested. Learning people is interesting! - See qu in companion thread.
    Last edited by ping; 10 Mar 2023 at 03:48 PM.

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    Pssthpok's fluent use of Common--and the revelation that she was the one too teach him--completely escaped Aislinn's memory. She is about to apologize when he continues to share more of her experiences, which at first sound as if they occurred to someone in a bard's tale. As little rivulets of memories seep through her mind, her headache worsens.

    But she ignores it, too busy trying to send a mute message to the Lizardman to please stop speaking what feels like her whole life's story to a set of men she doesn't necessarily wish to share such knowledge with--especially when she does not know it herself. Unfortunately Lizardfolk culture doesn't use particularly nuanced facial expressions, and so her widened, pleading eyes and tightly shaken head are of no use.

    So she blurts out, if only to quiet him before he starts reenacting whatever else transpired during her months with them: "Yes, of course. Your cousin, Goltrahess--no--Gol'tresshall?" She pauses just long enough to confirm that she has the name correct. "I must owe him much. Those days are long past but a debt is a debt."

    Uneasy, Aislinn pulls her gloves more tightly and gestures in the direction of the farmer's land. "Master Marron, you are right. We must not make Farmer Giles wait on us." She nearly starts to jog towards the path, but stops with a jerk when she decides it would be less obvious--and certainly more polite--to wait for Walker, Marron and the others. "Perhaps at table we might hear more of our party's travels," she adds awkwardly. "I daresay there is much to hear."

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    Walker raises an eyebrow slightly, noting Aislinn's initial hurried departure. It didn't seem to him that anything untoward was being shared, but everyone has their own things they like to keep close to their chests, perhaps.

    Letting Aislinn hurry ahead a short while, he drops back into step with Pssthpok.

    "So, friend of Aislinn, and I hope now friend of mine - I'm known generally as Walker, by the way. Not my real name - that would be rather cruel of my parents hah! - but it's a name that will do! You know Aislinn from before? She doesn't ummm... she doesn't seem too keen to discuss your past experiences in front of us. I think that as a group we've not been together too long and that your experiences with her probably pre-date anything we've done together. Just wanted to to say... I just sort of got the feeling that it was making her a little uncomfortable? Maybe you could catch her in a quiet moment without the rest of us around if you want to reminisce? Sorry, I'm possibly not great at "peopling" but I can spot someone who doesn't really want to have a particular conversation in front of others, if you get my meaning....?

    [Trying to lighten the mood again] "HAH! ANYWAY! I'm sorry for my attempts at your language! I really must be quite an embarrassment! I've passed through Lizardfolk villages in the past and know only the very basics. I'm well aware that you far surpass me with your skills in Common but that isn't going to stop me making a fool of myself by trying to practice other tongues, my lizardfolk friend, Psssthpok! Me buy beer you?"

    [Walker blushes slightly, aware that he has probably completely butchered that phrase but hoping that it's deflected slightly from whatever what making Aislinn uncomfortable.]

    "Giles beer here good but wine better, think. You prefer?" Walker is seriously pushing his language memory to the limits here and it's doubtful that any of this is coherent! Back to Common:

    "Well, Farmer Giles here is well known for being an excellent host and we should have plenty of time to chat about where we've all come from, what we've all seen, and plan where we are going next."

    He nods ahead to Aislinn who, having initially hurried ahead, now appears to be waiting with Marron for them to catch up.
    Last edited by ping; 15 Mar 2023 at 07:04 PM.

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    Pssthpok replies to Aislinn “Yes, my cousin is called Gol’tresshall. He will be happy you remember him. I will pass on your thanks.”

    AS Aislinn moves away, the Lizardman turns to Walker. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing to Aislinn. Our tribe consider her a friend.”
    Pssthpok gives Walker directions to his tribes’ settlement (Walker nods, because he already knows the lake and river that the Lizardmen live near.)
    Pssthpok continues to the Ranger “It is also a pleasure to meet you at last – my tribe have heard good reports about you from local farmers and traders. And of course our thanks to your party for slaying that terrible Dragon.
    I am sure you will be made welcome at Farmer Giles – meanwhile I will return to my tribe.
    May I say one small thing? Whilst I welcome your attempts to speak our language, I would leave that to Aislinn! You have compared me to beer and suggested Farmer Giles is better than wine!”

    Pssthpok heads off.

    As the mourners depart, Farmer Giles welcomes the party into his large farmhouse.
    A servant shows the party to a room where they can rest and prepare for dinner.

  29. #279
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    Walker blushes furiously. He had thought he was doing quite well! He makes a mental note to ask Aislinn for some pointers....

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    Aislinn tries to find a glass or something reflective to make sure that large scammer didn't disturb the bandages too much. If there's a water basin or even just a cloth, she'll also do a basic clean-up of any dust, dirt or anything else that she'd prefer to be without while eating.

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    Aislinn spots a metal trophy which would certainly serve as a mirror. (Apparently Farmer Giles has won it for 'Best Marrow at County Fair'!)

    There is both a wash basin and towel (clearly Farmer Giles is quite well-off.)

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    Walker greets Farmer Giles and any of the farm hands and servants he's met in previous visits. Pleasantries out of the way, he is aware that he is probably not looking his best so politely asks one of the household staff if he could use a bathroom to freshen up a little. He would mainly like to ensure there are no traces of blood on his hands and clothes - if necessary he will change into a spare set of clothing he has in his pack - and will run his fingers through his hair in some attempt at taming it. It doesn't really work, and settles back into its usual wild mess of reddish-brown doing whatever it wants to do.

    Having washed off the grime of travelling, climbing cliffs, slaying dragons, skinning dragons, and then more travelling, Walker emerges from the bathroom looking quite a bit more respectable. You can see perhaps how he is recognised as a respectable figure here; while before he might have more resembled a scruffy travelling scoundrel! He has cleaned his weapons and has on a fresh set of clothes - dark green cloak over worn but good quality leather armour - and generally scrubs up quite well. He can't really do much about his hair, which has a mind of its own, but he manages to make it look at least like he hasn't just been dragged through a hedge backwards.

    Exiting the bathroom, Walker scans the room to see if he can spot his companions, assuming that dinner will be commencing imminently and then they will have to figure out the next step on their journey.... if they are going to stick together? Do they have a common goal?

    Spotting Aislinn admiring one of Farmer Giles' trophies, he heads in that direction. He recalls this particular town fayre from a couple of years ago and plans to tell Aislinn of the runner-up prize for the "best marrow", which, while not the largest marrow, most certainly gave the ladies of the Village Womens' Institute quite a fit of the giggles due to its shape. Everyone agreed that it should have won but the stuffy judges ruled that it was "weight and not shape" that won the day. Ah well. The ladies of the Womens' Institute will definitely remember which marrow won their hearts that year, hah.
    Last edited by ping; 20 Mar 2023 at 06:58 PM.

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    Wiping the grime from her face, neck, arms and hands makes Aislinn more awake and refreshed. She's still tired and somewhat on edge after the encounter with the scammers--and seeing Pssthpok again. But nothing a decent meal and some cider can't mend.

    She starts to rinse out the cloth when, reflected in the shiny metal of the award, she spots Walker at not too great a distance. The memory of the primary thief's actions tickles her memory again, and since she feels safe enough here--even a bit prankish--she tries to see if her earlier instinct about Ventriloquism was based in truth.

    Voice, Aislinn murmurs, and then--hiding her mouth with the small towel--tries to direct her words so they seem as if emanating from several strides behind her companion's position, near a group of women gathered in conversation.

    "Why, that's the stalwart fellow whose Crag now boasts the bones of the fierce dragon he helped defeat!"

    Aislinn watches in the mirror-like metal to see if the ranger can hear anything, a tiny and unaccustomed smile hidden by the towel over her mouth.

    I'll use purple (as in "purple prose") to denote the words Aislinn might use when throwing her voice. Does the success or failure of this require a check of some kind? From what little I'm seeing via research maybe Charisma or Performance maybe?

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    DM: Aislinn makes a Ventriloquism roll.

    (Aislinn, as part of your back story, I've added the non-weapon proficiency of Ventriloquism; when the characters go up a level (soon!), your sheet will include that ability and your chance of success.)

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    Quote Originally posted by choie View post
    ""Why, that's the stalwart fellow whose Crag now boasts the bones of the fierce dragon he helped defeat!"
    "

    Heading over towards Aislinn with a slight smile on his face as he recalls the phallic marrow, Walker is startled by a voice from behind him. He jumps and turns, seeing a group of women who appear to be gossiping and who are now most definitely looking in his direction. It's not clear who spoke, but they've all turned to look at him. Walker is aware that he's quite a recognisable figure, having visited here before and also being fairly tall and, well.... ranger-ish. He can't really think of a more accurate description, hah! Regardless, he does a sort of look-around in a poor attempt at pretending he thinks they might be talking about someone else nearby.

    He is aware that he's probably blushing at this point so puts his head down and heads straight to Aislinn, ignoring the gossiping women.

    "Hah. Umm. Did you hear that? Should I go say something? Just... look like you're talking to me, hah. Well, you are. Well, I mean, you would be if I wasn't talking at you, hah. Um. Sorry, babbling. I was going to tell you about this trophy, it's a funny story actually, because, umm, well, yes, I saw you looking at it. First prize! Hah! The ladies over there [he gestures vaguely while trying not to look over at the gaggle of ladies] didn't think that Farmer Giles' marrow should have won, hah, but the judge was too prudish to give the podium place to the crowd favourite, hah! It looked exactly like a giant... well... [Walker gestures vaguely, realising that this tale is probably getting more awkward than confronting the gossips]. I... um. Yess, well. Anyway. Tis a fine trophy. Umm. Are they still looking at us? Is anyone else looking? That was quite a loud exclamation. Are they coming over? Where's Marron got to? I think if they want to ... I don't know... ummm, thank us or something we should all be here. Argh. Not good at peopling like this and it certainly shouldn't be me they're looking at, are they still looking? Can you hear anything? I didn't see which one called out, though I think it's probably the one with the pink scarf. I know her from around the village and she's always done that fluttery-eye thing. Heh. Help."

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    Marron appears from behind the group of women, clearly also having 'tidied up' for dinner. He looks relaxed.

    Meanwhile the group of women are looking around with a puzzled air.

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    Walker raises an eyebrow. (Would he have recognised if the voice that called out was male or female? ie. seeing Marron there, would it be logical to him that the voice was Marron, or still just some unknown or female voice?)

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    Walker definitely recognised the voice as female.

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    [loudly]


    "AH! Marron! Good to see you there! I think these lovely ladies were just talking about you!"

    [He shoos Marron in the direction of the confused-looking women]

    "Apparently you slew a dragon! Very impressive! Wow! Much awesome! Wow!"

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    Aislinn, who started out amused by Walker's evident confusion, remains silent and somewhat confused herself. And not a little bit wary. The silence is understandable, since Walker can provide both sides of a conversation all by himself--probably a result of spending too much time alone and needing to release his pent-up thoughts somehow.

    The reference to the vegetable and its shape, though... Of course Aislinn's not a prude; that's not a luxury afforded to her. But the tenor of the conversation is unexpected and adds an uncomfortable reminder that she's in a party consisting of two men, now with the possibility of a third if Walker is to join them. They all seem friendly and well-meaning, no harm to them. But does she know that? Besides, one man may be harmless. A group of them?

    A beast may ignore prey it scents on the wind while alone. A pack are more likely to be bold enough to act on their instincts.

    Aislinn shakes away the concern. They're all Arthurians, that should be enough to ensure their trustworthiness. Still. To her, nature holds more power than lofty ideals.

    Walker's passing along the credit to Marron, however, eludes her understanding, and when there's finally a space between the ranger's words, she blurts, "But the compliment was for you. Why wouldn't you accept it? The ladies might be interested in your company."

    A sudden thought strikes her and provides comfort. She's from a city and observed many sorts of people, and while she can't remember specific details of her own past, the general sense of just how varied life and tastes can be has certainly survived whatever happened before she woke up in the company of a Lizardfolk healer.

    So she adds, with understanding and a little lilt of hope in her voice, "...Unless you aren't interested in theirs." A fact that would certainly come as a relief. She casts an eye at Marron, curious about his own reaction, but a more pressing thought occurs to her. "Master Walker," Aislinn begins awkwardly. "How much do you know of... magic? The different types and abilities and such?"

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    Realising that he's been babbling, Walker is relieved when Aislinn finally speaks up.

    "Oh, hah, Yes I figured it might have been directed my way. I'm just not very good with compliments, heh. People can be far to quick to make a hero out of a simple action or ascribe great deeds to one person when it was the actions of many working together. The saints know we have all seen examples of that happening. And anyway, I'm pretty sure they're not interested in me in any... other way, if you catch my meaning. I um. Well. I think it's sort of known that I'm not ... lets just say I'm not really into the attentions of ladies, hah? I know it's not really spoken about but nobody seems to mind if I keep myself to myself and don't bother anyone, and I think in general I'm seen as useful and I certainly don't bother anyone... heh. Lets just say that they won't be chasing me down as husband material. Um. Yes."

    Walker trails off, slightly wary about how this might be taken.

    "ANYWAY. compliments - deserved or otherwise - aside, do we have a plan of action from here? For my own part, I've enjoyed my time recently travelling with companions. It does get a tad lonely out on the roads and Eye [who is perched up in the rafters nearby] isn't much of a talker, hah. She's a good listener but then again I don't think she has much of a choice in that, heh.

    "Were you people on a mission before we came together at the keep? I, for my part, was just doing my usual ramblings... I have a sort of route that takes me through the villages. In general, I pick up some herbs from places I know, pick up news and gossip and any information about ailments or issues with crops or bandits and the like from the villagers, then bring them back - herbs and news - to the Keep and to Druid Kitty. She makes potions and salves which I can take back with me when I head out again, or sometimes it's some knowledge about what's ailing their crops or animals, or sometimes it's a matter for the Count and he sends out his men to tackle a particular problem such as bandits. It's only occasionally that I come across a creature that's an imminent threat to a village, or something like a rabid wolf that's a menace and can be fairly easily dealt with, and swiftly.

    "But yes, that's my life in a nutshell. I ..., Walk. Hah. In terms of magic, I.... I am quite ashamed and sad to admit I don't have any ability whatsoever. The teachers and scribes in the Keep have tried - hah, believe me, they tried - but it's just something beyond my grasp. Sort of like...." [Walker pauses, seeming to be trying to put it into words] "...like, when you watch a master baker create a cake. You watch her measure all of the ingredients and you take a note of exactly how they are added together and mixed, and you take a note of exactly how hot she makes her oven and how long she places the mixture in, and it comes out as a beautiful masterpiece..... then you follow the exact steps and it just flops into a sort of half-burned-half-gooey mess? Magic to me is like that. I have spent some time with people who can use magic. I've watched the hand gestures they use and listened to the words, but it's just beyond me.

    "I have seen some quite powerful magic cast; there are some powerful mages who have passed through the Keep here. But mainly I've seen magic on a smaller scale. Even quite a few of the villagers in the places I pass through have some minor magic that tends to run in the family, from what I can tell. Just things like making the water in the well safe to drink, or making the nighttime lanterns a little brighter than you'd expect from a simple gas-lamp, heh. Small things, not gigantic lightning storms or fireballs or death beams or anything, hah! I don't even know if those are possible, but I would think maybe someone might be powerful enough?

    "In terms of other magic, I know that Druid Kitty has magic both in terms of spells and also her potions. She can... I don't know how to explain it... sort of ... bottle? a spell? Eye up there [Walker points to his eagle companion] from what I understand is a Familiar. She is bound to me, she's magical. Usually a quite powerful magic user would be able to summon a creature such as Eye, and use her to be able to scout... I can use her to carry messages, we can communicate in our minds... But, obviously, having no magic of my own, Kitty made a potion that sort of .... bottled up that spell. So that I could use it, and now I have Eye. I don't know exactly, but I get the idea that the ingredients and components that went into that potion weren't easy to come by, not like the fairly common herbs I bring back from my travels which she mixes up to make potions that I can deliver to the villages to cure their foot-rot or ease childbirth, hah. I think this was a great favour to me and probably cost her more than she will ever admit to me.

    "But yes, sorry to disappoint on the magic front there. I know there's healing magic, I know there's magic that can be destructive, I know there's subtle.... I don't know how to describe.... mind magic? Stuff that can make people see or hear or sense things? I've certainly met some more cunning tricksters than those two earlier who can use subtle magics to manipulate their punters or cause distractions. [He shrugs] There's probably a bunch of fancy names for these things but as I say - and I know I do say a lot, please do tell me to shut up - it's all a bit beyond me. I've not got the right sort of brain for it, I don't think."

  42. #292
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    DM: Saradoc makes a Stealth roll.

    Saradoc pops up with his completed scrimshaw for Count Percival.

    He announces that a hobbit merchant (who was at the funeral) has hired him to escort a wagon to the Count's Keep.
    He continues "I hope it's all right if I take this job. I can carry the Dragon Hide we skinned, plus the plants for Kitty and tell the Count exactly how we slew the beast.
    That lot should earn us all a generous reward in magical items!
    Also how about if Walker takes my place in our group? He knows this County well and is a better Fighter than me."

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    Marron smiles and acknowledges the nearby women.

    He comes over to the others and says solemnly "They look nice, but I honestly need to fight evil before settling down."
    Marron points at his Holy Symbol. "The respected Cleric Gawain was slain by those forest bandits and they took this off him. I want to use it on Undead!"

    He then looks a bit embarrassed and mutters "Sorry if I'm a bit pompous - but I do feel strongly that I'm doing the right thing.
    As for Saradoc's request, I agree. He can give the good news to the Count and it will be interesting to see what we get offered!"

    Finally Marron turns to Walker. "Look, I'm not the leader or anything. Aislinn, Saradoc and I were tasked by our respectable Scout Guild with exploring Sherwoodshire, making friends with the Count and finding a base for a branch of the Guild here. Will you join us? Speaking for myself, you'd be most welcome!"

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    Walker similarly nods in a sort of acknowledging-but-awkward way towards the women, still unsure who called out, then says to Marron,

    "Are there rumours of undead nearby? As I was just saying to Aislinn, my basic purpose here in this region is to travel between the villages and ... well... help where I can, collect and deliver news where I can... If an extra person could be of help to you, it's almost literally on my planned path, hah!

    "I've certainly heard of Sir Gawain; he was well-respected in this area and I know we all mourned his passing. We all - and, to be fair, by that I mean me, Kitty and her two apprentices - had some thoughts about his demise. I mean no disrespect at all, of course, but he was known to be a strong knight. It seems.... just oddly wrong that his life should have been taken by mere bandits................. though, I suppose, that is the line that we tread...?" [Walker shrugs awkwardly].. I don't know. It just didn't seem right.

    [Walker nods deferentially to the holy symbol] I think that I would like to find out more about what went on there. If that's okay with you, of course. I don't know where you were planning on heading, but if our paths are converging, I wouldn't say no to helping you with yours as long as we have the same goals in mind... which I think we do."

    Looking around to see Aislinn's reaction to this (and also surreptitiously ducking behind Marron to get out of line of sight of the women), Walker continues,
    "Look, I ... I'm just going to continue on my way, which may happen to converge with yours. I ... I recognise that symbol and I know that it must mean a lot for you. Do you have any news on actual undead in the area, or was this just a bandit attack? I personally haven't heard rumours of undead and as you know, the villagers around here are.......................... well, yes." [Walker shuffles slightly] ..... we take quite a lot of what they say with a rather large spoonful of salt, but sometimes what they say is worth listening to. Sorry, that sounded crass, I didn't mean to suggest they talk bollocks all the time. Though they do a bit.... *meep*"
    Last edited by ping; 29 Mar 2023 at 08:21 PM.

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    There has been much to listen to, and Aislinn does so without expressing much until all the others have spoken their piece. "It will be a boon for you, Master Saradoc; I am sure we all wish you the best luck." To Walker, who seems to have confirmed her guess about his interest in women, she offers a small smile and bids him a welcome, if he does choose to join them. She thanks him for his magic information--there may not have much of it, but what little he had seemed generously shared. His storytelling abilities really would be useful to a bard. She wonders if he has any interest in training as such, and plans to ask him when next the opportunity arises.

    Saradoc's proposed itinerary gives her pause, and she raises a question. "Do you mean we won't be returning to the Keep first?" she asks Marron. "Only I had hoped to speak with Mistress Kitty."

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    Walker looks between the two of them, unsure if he's being invited along for the ride here. Aislinn seems to be inviting him along, but he's not too sure what the plan is...

    "Umm. Well. I thought my plan personally was to head back to the Keep to give the news of the dragon, and our most excellently carved bone... catch up with Druid Kitty and also see if there is news from elsewhere that might need my attention.... but that's just my usual way of working, hah! Wander, do a thing, head back, get info, wander back out to fix the thing, come back..... but if Marron has something pressing and you'd have my company then I'd join if you'd like. I just wonder if there's perhaps some sense in going ........ well, wherever we're going... [he raises an eyebrow at Marron] ...straight away or if going via the Keep is going to take us out of our way too far?

    "I suppose, from my perspective, I'm accustomed to travelling alone and only really do.... "peopling" ... in short bursts, such as this gathering. I don't know if I'd be tolerable for any length of time. I've not really been with any group for a length of time, hah! I'm probably not a good companion for longer terms... I don't know.

    "Ok, so here's my thoughts... how about we travel together to the Keep? Saradoc is heading there anyway, I have these herbs [Walker gestures to his pack] from the Crag that I would like to deliver to Kitty, and I think Aislinn? You would like to visit the druid too? I mean, all of this would depend on whether your friend here has a pressing need to do.... well... whatever it is? [Walker looks again at Marron, trying to judge how urgent the need is for him to go].

    "Either way... hmm. I think I would personally go to the Keep, but if you have a personal and pressing quest that I can help with, Marron, then of course I'll help you if you'll have me. If we decide to go with you, then I'd like to pass these herbs on to you, Saradoc to pass on to Druid Kitty, She knows what she requested and I think I managed to get most of them."

    Turning to Aislinn, Walker nods his head slightly in response to her welcoming tone, then says,
    "It seems that you would like to return to the keep, and to Druid Kitty? I suppose that we are at a bit of a split here... I am happy either way, I can send my news and herbs along with Saradoc... though it would be good to talk in person there I suppose... but similarly I'm aware that Marron here has something possibly more important. I am free either way, if you'll have me... otherwise I will just continue on my usual route, hah! And I suppose we'll probably cross paths at some point, whichever you take!"

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    Marron hastily explains "Sorry if I didn't explain properly. I have no specific knowledge of any Undead around here. However wherever the Mordred Cabal are, there are evil Mordred Clerics - and they always use an evil spell (DM Animate Dead) to create and control Undead. Therefore I deduce the presence of UNdead somewhere in this County!
    This Holy Symbol (he taps it) means I can destroy some Skeletons and Zombies every round in a battle. So if we meet such monsters, leave those Undead to me and hunt down the Mordred Cleric controlling them - he won't be far away...

    Walker, you are most welcome to join our little band - perhaps we should celebrate by giving ourselves a name?

    Now we have been invited to a feast by Farmer Giles (and then to stay overnight) and it would jolly rude to refuse.
    However Saradoc can leave immediately (Saradoc nods) and use the merchant's wagon to carry the Dragon Hide and Kitty's plants straight to the Keep.
    After we rest, we can perhaps gather any information and rumours (Marron winks at Walker) before returning to the Keep ourselves.
    By then, the Count and Druid Kitty will undoubtedly have prepared a reward for our efforts!"

    Marron pauses for breath. "Is that OK with everyone?"

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    "Yes, Marron," Aislinn says, "that sounds like a good plan. We're here to dine for now. There's no urgent need to speak with Mistress Kitty, I... I suppose." In truth she's noticing a restless feeling in her muscles, as if she needs to stretch or run, and a sense of anticipation accompanies it. She's expecting something, she realizes, and has been ever since the run-in with the scammer. Something to give her a purpose? Something that's eluded her?

    She just doesn't know, and so she just massages her arms while thinking. I might ask Marron what he thinks. Or we might meet up with some knowledgeable stranger?

    In the meantime she bids Saradoc farewell for now, wishing him ardently a safe journey all on his own. He seems likely to enjoy it, though.

    Which leads her to reflect on Walker's remarks about his not being used to spending time with people for very long. She understands the discomfort, being so wary of others herself, but that doesn't seem to be what drives his need to travel alone.

    Whatever it is, he continues to mention it, along with his willingness to stay separate for part of their travels, and Aislinn's sympathy breaks her own habit of keeping out of others' lives and business.

    If Marron busies himself with parting with Saradoc, Aislinn will take advantage of a moment of privacy and speak quietly and understandingly with Walker. (She keeps a respectful distance from him, as he seems willing to do with her.) "Sir, if you... if at some point you don't feel comfortable in others' company, or feel concern that you're sort of... trapped, that there are too many people... saying yes to traveling with us needn't feel like an unbreakable bond. You may go and come as you like. We each of us might have our own preferences, or even tasks of greater priority, at times."

    She pauses, then adds: "And--and if we are somewhere that gives you discomfort, I will assist in helping you extricate yourself. A diversion so you can take some air or solitude. I think..." Aislinn glances at the ladies for a second before quickly returning to Walker. "I think I might be able to do that." Ending with a fleeting smile, she pulls edgily at the fabric of her hood and waits.

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    Walker nods in agreement to Marron's statement.

    "Yes, I agree, we need to stay this evening. If you, Saradoc, have matters elsewhere and want to get a headstart to the Keep then I'm sure that the grand show of ... us three... [Walker gestures vaguely at himself, Marron and Aislinn] will be enough to satisfy the villagers here. I do also agree that it would be seen as rude for us all to bugger off just after arriving, hah! Here, take this pack and just tell Druid Kitty that I managed to get The Herbs From The Crag. She'll know which I mean. Oh, actually, some of them are a bit singed... ehhhhh....no don't worry about that she'll figure it out. And- heh - I guess the dragon hide and scales are self explanatory! Do ask her if she's any 'top-ups' for existing potions... again she'll know what I mean hah."


    "As to joining you..." Walker addresses Marron and Aislinn, "I'd be pleased to, if you'd have me. I just fear that I'd be something of an annoyance, hah. Since I was young I have always just been ... annoying to be around I assume? Heh. Put social awkwardness in a pot, add in some general inability to say the right thing around people, being over-friendly or not-friendly-enough (... and not knowing the difference, heh!) then a pinch of possible skill with being stealthy, tracking and hunting, and add a final dash of not minding one's own company, et voila! [Walker gestures to himself]. I generally get by by myself because I don't irritate other people if I'm not around them for long, hah, I can keep a good conversation going - well, as I say, it's the only way of ensuring an intelligent response, hah? - Heh. Hmm. Ok. Well anyway. Just so you know, I'm well accustomed to roaming these areas alone. The people in the villages know me and give me shelter and gossip, and I don't stay in any place too long. People will know me and are generally kind and helpful, and I never outstay my welcome... or talk as much as you are allowing me to do, hah! Most of my conversation goes to Eye and I am really not quite sure how much say she has in the matter." (Walker glances up to Eye, perched in the rafters, and if an eagle could raise an eyebrow and give *THAT* look, she does. Walker is definitely getting The Look)

    "So, if you'll have me, I'll tag along with you on whatever you think is important. As I say, hah, again, I say many things! As I say though, I don't really have a particular mission unless I hear of something as I pass through a village or if the Count directs me to a certain place. I'm sure that... again, if you'll have me... tagging along with wherever you are leading is basically what I'd be doing anyway. Assuming, of course, we don't get some all-hands-on-deck-red-alert from Saradoc when he gets to the Keep?

    [DM question because I don't know - how far can Eye go from me? I know I can only communicate for a certain distance, but does she poof out of existence at a distance? Narratively, if the answer from DM is that yes, she will disappear at a certain distance, pretend the next paragraph didn't happen. ASSUMING that she can go far from me and then return and communicate:]

    "I can send Eye along with Saradoc and she can communicate with me for a short while, then after she's out of range she can just observe anything and fly straight back to us with the news or any issues. It will save a little on travel time if we get word from the Keep that there's something that needs our attention, hah."

    Stepping away from Marron and Saradoc, Walker smiles at Aislinn, while still keeping a good metre or so distance, "Thank you, I don't know why I'm saying that, but I think that you... get me.... maybe. Most don't. Just... thank you for understanding. I'm not adverse to travelling with people at all. Just things like this [he gestures at the room] and people being up in your face is a bit much. I'm fine, honestly, totally fine with people when I'm out on my travels. It's sort of a different situation, isn't it? I mean, coming into a village, and a couple of people want to tell you about their cow that definitely got hexed by that witch who - by the way - is most definitely a witch because her nose is wonky, then another couple might tell me about how their sheep are being picked off during the night by thieves, or the tavern keep might have.... ok, there I am again talking. I really ought to stop that. It's what I think people find odd about me. I don't like people close to me, but I also just ... talk. Too much, it seems. People like to talk to... at... me and I think I'm a figure that sort of attracts the attention of "Someone Who Likes To Be Talked At" (Walker says this with audible capitalised letters)

    "I'm still talking. Yes, I know. Sorry. Help. It gets worse if I'm nervous. Are those women still looking?"
    Last edited by ping; 30 Mar 2023 at 12:28 PM.

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    Aislinn nods, still sympathetic, though a bit overwhelmed. In addition to some phrases that are new to her--what can a red alert be?--it seems that a conversation with Walker does somewhat resemble being among a noisy crowd and trying to pay attention to multiple discussions at once. Perhaps that is what it feels like to him, too. But the raucousness is inside his own head, which of course he cannot escape.

    "I think you are very fortunate to have Eye," she says, following his upward glance. "And while I don't understand the... the bond between a Familiar and its--its--" Aislinn is at a loss for words and gestures with a flutter of her hand to Walker. Is he the Eagle's friend? Master? Owner? None of the three seems right.

    "...Between you two," she continues, "I expect it takes something special to earn such loyalty as you share. If she can recognize your quality, I'm sure we will too." Aislinn lowers her voice. "I don't know much about Marron yet either, nor does he know me. We're all in the same boat."

    She massages her arms, still feeling the strange buzzy sensation but also exhausted by all the time she's spent in others' company herself. She's spoken more than in quite some time--certainly more than she remembers clearly.

    Walker's last question rouses her guilt. She meant to bring him amusement and pride by her use of Ventriloquism, not discomfort or anxiousness. "Don't worry about them," Aislinn assures him softly. "The truth is..."

    Is she able to tell him the truth? He might be hurt by what might easily be misunderstood as a mocking prank. She's embarrassed to make her admission now. She'll have to work her way up to it over their meal. "The truth is they're looking around for someone else to discuss. They're grateful, that's all."

    Flushing slightly, she starts (and encourages Walker to join her, if he wishes) toward wherever the meal will be presented.

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