Adventure: Love Bites

covaithe

Explorer
"I shall be sure to convey your complaint to the management, sir," The half orc's tone is exquisitely polite, conveying no hint of mockery whatsoever. "Would you like me to fetch a stool, then? Or, was there something else?"
 

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KenHood

First Post
Hacker raises his finger about to enter another diatribe, then stops. "Erm, no."

The gnome seems to struggle with a difficult concept and finally says, "Thank you."

After a moment of scratching his chin, he regains his train of thought. "Dungwringer. Where is he?"
 

Dunamin

First Post
Woe gives the half-orc butler a mean look, assessing whether those tusk have yellowed “naturally” or whether there’s a trace of gold-tipping involved. Then, with absolutely no incentive at all, he starts speculating whether there’s any relation to his gold-tusked nemesis-wannabe.
 

covaithe

Explorer
"Dungwringer. Where is he?"

"Ah, yes. He is in his rooms. If you'll follow me, please?"

The half orc leads you up a flight of stairs and to the end of a long corridor, doors set into the walls at regular intervals. He stops at the last door on the right and raps gently. "Pardon me, sir," he calls softly through the door. "You have callers. May I show them in?" There is a grunt through the door, and presently a series of bolts and latches can be heard opening. This takes several seconds, during which the doorman turns to you and says quietly, "Master Orwell is a valued client, and has certain unique priveleges, such as receiving late callers without notice. But there are other guests present, and for their sakes I would request that you keep your voices low. Good evening." He makes a slight bow, and returns the way he came.

Eventually, the door opens, and Dungwringer's heavily jowled, scowling face pokes out. "Yes? What do you want?"
 

nerdytenor

First Post
Kathalia follows the others up the stairs, pulling absentmindedly on a conspicuous nose-hair.

Eventually, the door opens, and Dungwringer's heavily jowled, scowling face pokes out. "Yes? What do you want?"

Kathalia's face lights up. "CUPCAKES! We want cupcakes!" Kathalia claps her hands together, then catches herself, her pointy ears flushing red. "Um, they, uh..." she manages, stepping back to make room for the others. "They can tell you our, um, plan..." She tries her best to avoid eye contact with anyone for as long as elvenly possible.
 

covaithe

Explorer
Kathalia's face lights up. "CUPCAKES! We want cupcakes!" Kathalia claps her hands together, then catches herself, her pointy ears flushing red.

"Well, aren't you a special snowflake," Dungwringer sneers. "Come on, then. Out with it. You buying information, or selling?"
 

Lord Sessadore

Explorer
Tristan steps into Dungwringer's view at the door. "I think we're buying. But not buying cupcakes. Whatever those are. In any case, we'd like to find out the whereabouts of an alchemist named Father Serevas, who was in the service of the L'irkash family some years ago. Ring any bells?"
 

KenHood

First Post
Hacker pushes himself in front of Tristan, grabs Dungwringer by the nose, and gives it a hard twist. "Apologize, *****. The little lady has done nothin' to warrant your condescending *****. And after you're done apologizing for that, you can ***** apologize for not opening the door and say, 'Hello, Mr. Brass. It's nice to see you again. I appreciate the fact that you're not stabbing me to death for selling you out to the highest bidder after drugging you during a dinner party. How may I help you?' 'Cause if you don't, I'm gonna hop down your throat, dig my way down to that shriveled, blackened thing you call a heart, squeeze the ever-lovin' ***** out of it, and chew my out through your abdomen. Got it, *****? "

Intimidate: 1d20+13=21
 

covaithe

Explorer
"That wasn't even your glass!" Dungwringer whines, giving ground. "How was I supposed to know you'd chug the marquessa's drink when her back was turned? She was four seats down from you!"

He glances at Tristan, glad to have an excuse not to meet Hacker's eye. "Serevas, you say? I think I might have heard something about someone by that name. If only I could remember... Hey, you know what always jogs my memory? The sweet sound of gold exchanging hands!"
 

H.M.Gimlord

Explorer
Mikara smiles, and unties the sack containing her share of the gold from her belt. She reaches dramatically into the bag and produces a handful of gold pieces, "Hey Tristan," she grabs the avenger's hand and shoves the lot into it, "Can you change give me that in silver." She then turns to Dungwringer and smiles, still holding onto Tristan's hand, "That help any?"

There's an awkward pause before Mikara speaks again, making sure the whole while that the sarcasm of her voice is unmistakable, "Oh. You meant gold changing from our hand to yours," When its clear that Dungwringer's sense of humor and greed is not appreciated, she turns back to Tristan and pulls her money out of his hand, finally releasing it, "Sorry. My mistake."
 

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