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Sic Pixie's Carrion Crown Adventure Path
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<blockquote data-quote="Sic_Pixie" data-source="post: 5930844" data-attributes="member: 52403"><p><strong>Grembor finds himself home alone ...</strong></p><p></p><p>Grembor waking in Chastel that morning drags himself from the bed and takes a wander downstairs; apparently everyone forgot he was there and left him in the tavern. They all had a relaxing morning bathing then running round the town buying things. Grembor staggers down mid morning to the looks of disgust from the owner; “tis past checking out time you will ave to pay for another night” he shoots at Grembors still sleep sodden form as it slumps at the bar. Fishing out a couple of gold he tosses it towards the surly barkeep who snatches them from midair with hands faster than his size would suggest possible.</p><p></p><p>Mumbling he asks about his companions and he is informed that they have already departed earlier that morning. Thanking the barkeep Grembor snatches something to eat from the kitchen which is preparing lunch and strolls outside into the bright sunlight shading his eyes from the light with a raised hand.</p><p></p><p>Taking a walk around the town he accosts some passerby’s till he finds the answer to his questions. With a more purposeful slouch he heads towards the dodgier side of town to see if he can find a tattoo artist and maybe pick up some tattoo equipment. The streets get closer together and the buildings lean in towards one another shutting out most of the light; his boots squelch as they land in the mud and excrement that paves the walkway. Eventually he finds the location he was looking for and walks into the disreputable looking establishment without noticing the amount of attention he is drawing. Attention of the wrong sort. …</p><p></p><p>The small hovel of a tattoo parlor is run by a vicious and evil looking old crone with a single bulbous eye peering out from greasy grey hair; wearing little more than a set of mis matched clothes which look to have been fished from the river. However she grunts at Grembor in what he assumes is in greeting and asks if she has some tattoo supplies he could buy from her. With a furious face she screams at him to get out of her shop and never darken her door again as she can’t afford the competition while brandishing a small but very sharp looking blade in one hand while the other is holding a series of needles. Grembor backs out of the shop and into the street in surprise at the furious outburst.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sic_Pixie, post: 5930844, member: 52403"] [b]Grembor finds himself home alone ...[/b] Grembor waking in Chastel that morning drags himself from the bed and takes a wander downstairs; apparently everyone forgot he was there and left him in the tavern. They all had a relaxing morning bathing then running round the town buying things. Grembor staggers down mid morning to the looks of disgust from the owner; “tis past checking out time you will ave to pay for another night” he shoots at Grembors still sleep sodden form as it slumps at the bar. Fishing out a couple of gold he tosses it towards the surly barkeep who snatches them from midair with hands faster than his size would suggest possible. Mumbling he asks about his companions and he is informed that they have already departed earlier that morning. Thanking the barkeep Grembor snatches something to eat from the kitchen which is preparing lunch and strolls outside into the bright sunlight shading his eyes from the light with a raised hand. Taking a walk around the town he accosts some passerby’s till he finds the answer to his questions. With a more purposeful slouch he heads towards the dodgier side of town to see if he can find a tattoo artist and maybe pick up some tattoo equipment. The streets get closer together and the buildings lean in towards one another shutting out most of the light; his boots squelch as they land in the mud and excrement that paves the walkway. Eventually he finds the location he was looking for and walks into the disreputable looking establishment without noticing the amount of attention he is drawing. Attention of the wrong sort. … The small hovel of a tattoo parlor is run by a vicious and evil looking old crone with a single bulbous eye peering out from greasy grey hair; wearing little more than a set of mis matched clothes which look to have been fished from the river. However she grunts at Grembor in what he assumes is in greeting and asks if she has some tattoo supplies he could buy from her. With a furious face she screams at him to get out of her shop and never darken her door again as she can’t afford the competition while brandishing a small but very sharp looking blade in one hand while the other is holding a series of needles. Grembor backs out of the shop and into the street in surprise at the furious outburst. [/QUOTE]
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