(Khaghtchan) - Winip slips closer to Random and the halfling and watches closely ready to intervene if circumstances demnd.
(Khaboom) - Khloemar fixes the barmaid with a steady, contemplative look and suggets to his companions that they try the temple to make some headway in what is starting to look and feel like a quagmire in terms of aiding their Lady.
Random... The dapper halfling wears green-and-white checkered hose and a bright emerald shyrth of silk. "You look like the type who craves excitement." He opens one hand, and five playing cards flash in his palm. He turns his palm over and opens his hand again, to reveal the cards are now gone. "Would you like to win some of my gold?"
"I do, I do crave excitement," Random said. "But hmm..." Card tricks. He wasn't too sure about this. "Why don't you tell me something about the game? And then I'll decide."
He knew he should be getting to the tavern, and checking on the group, but it was hard for him to resist these games of chance, from these hedgerow tricksters.
It takes nearly three minutes to fight through the crowd, but Runkild survives the elbows, stepped-on toes, dirty looks and returns near the front door of the tavern. There, he finds the man-orc in the patchwork armor. (No one else in the party can see him).
As Runkild struggled through the crowd, Pookas, the owner of The Tavern of the Seven Curses, approaches the group's table, carrying a tray of food and glass of red wine for Malutassial. And for Zagnar, a frothy mug of ale.
The trio sizes-up Pookas as he sets the food and drinks on the table. He's a plump human of about fifty years of age. He wears a chef's white double-breasted jacket and black pants with white pinstripes.
"Hello, friends," Pookas begins, glancing at Khloemar. "Welcome to my tavern. Alexa told me you wish to speak with me."
Outside the tavern, the chipper hobbit explains his game to Random. "The object of the game is to keep your eye on the Jester of Jacks. See him?" The card turns between the knuckles of his right hand. He flips the card into his left hand, and he not-so-deftly buries it on the bottom of three other cards. "Now, kind elf, where is the Jester of Jacks?" It's obvious where the card is. On the bottom of the three cards in his left hand. "That's all you have to do, see? Each time you're correct, I give you a gold piece. But, if you're incorrect, you give me a gold piece. Now then, we play?" He smiles.
Winip watches the two closely, noticing no skullduggery...yet.
Post by marionarsis on Dec 25, 2015 12:03:05 GMT -5
A tough decision, Random McBride thought. On one hand I could win some gold. On the other, I could lose what I just won from singing. "You make it look easy, my good hobbit. Maybe too easy." He rubbed his chin. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass. I'm late for an appointment, and I must be going."
Random went into the tavern without another moment's pause, to look for his mates who went looking for their guide. Pushing open the doors, he crossed the threshold...
At Zagnar, Pookas shrugs. "I've never heard of anyone named Soubriquet. Ever. There are several man-orcs I employ as security around here. They have a natural intimidation factor, you see? Anyway, is that all you wanted to ask me?"
Khloemar looks on attentively. The wood in the tables, he notices, is pockmarked but, otherwise, of an average quality.
Malutassial settles-in and begins to eat his meal and drink his wine. While doing so, he looks around the tavern. A few people, adventuring types by the way they're caparisoned, catch his eye. In one corner, a quartet of humans in armor ranging from a jerkin to plate sit around a table. Another table holds a group of human women, the belts at their waits hold weapons ranging from knives to longswords. Other tables hold lone adventuring types--a half-elven lady in a wizard's robes studies a large book, a dwarf tests the sharpness of an axe, and a red-bearded male has twin swords crisscrossing his back.
The man-orc in the patchwork armor looks down at Runkild, as if to say, Well, what do you want?
As Random opens the door to the tavern, a line of people march out. When he enters he can see his pal, Runkild, standing next to a man-orc, in silence. The man-orc seems to be expecting a question. Further into the tavern, the crowd having thinned, he spies his friends seated at a table. Standing alongside the table is a portly human in chef's whites.
Winip sees the hobbit shrug, palm his playing cards and walk away, heading south into the heart of the village. Winip follows Random into the tavern.
Post by marionarsis on Dec 27, 2015 14:35:28 GMT -5
Random couldn't believe his long elven ears as he walked by Runkild and the man-orc. He thought, What is going on? What are my comrades thinking about?
He chuckled and shook his head. Is it possible, he thought, is it possible the entire party, save for me, wasn't listening to the Baron, and doesn't know our guide's name? Of course, he thought of saying nothing, and watching this folly play itself out.
If they weren't listening to the Baron give them the name of their guide, they probably weren't listening when he told them you can't get through The Swirling Forest without a guide, that you'd die if you tried. So, if he simply stood by, this group would march off into the Swirling Forest without a guide, and promptly get killed. It would serve them right, but with the deaths of five on his head he might lose a day or two of sleep, and he needed his sleep.
He approached the table, and said to the group, "Have you contacted our guide yet?" He looked at the human standing there, in chef's clothes. Surely, he wasn't the guide. "You are asking for a guide by the name of..." He waited, he wouldn't tell them. NO, he had to. No, he didn't. Yes he did. Five deaths, loss of sleep. "Okay, you are asking for a guide by the name of ... BROADAXE, right? Because BROADAXE is his name."
He explained. "Soubriquet is a fancy word Baron's use. It means "nickname." The Baron said, 'Look for a guide who goes by the soubriquet, BROADAXE'. In other words, he was saying look for a guide who goes by the nickname, BROADAXE. BROADAXE is the name of our guide."
He turned to the human standing there. "Is there someone named Broadaxe waiting for us, sir?"
Random looked at the three of them sitting there, and shook his head. "If I'm the only one paying attention in this group, we're in big trouble."
Malutassial was likewise wondering why everyone was asking after someone named Soubriquet. Being somewhat reserved and unassuming by nature, he had not yet reached the point of asking about it though. In any case, Random has raised the issue, which hopefully will clarify the situation and allow us to locate the Man-Orc.