digimattic
First Post
Arnir lets everyone know what each of the items are, and tosses the broken bear skull to the ground with a sad shake of his head.
"I'm going to take a potion of Cure Light Wounds, if you don't mind, however the rest of it is not of the utmost use to me. I could take the wand, as I'm likely the most capable of using it, and wouldn't mind the broach, but perhaps Bannock or Alric could make better use of it, given that they seem to be the target of a fair amount of aggression these days...
Bannock, Alric do either of you have room for some arrows, and perhaps this shroud from the bounty hunter camp? The shroud isn't terribly useful to any of us, but someone on our travels may be willing to part with a rather large bit of coin to obtain it. And of course, let's not forget the money!"
Arnir looks out over the bridge, and his hair is slightly tousled by the dry, hot wind. He has left his shirt unbuttoned, and rolled his his pants up to his knee in preparation for what will surely be an uncomfortable couple of days. Since seeing the Fire Forest, he has regarded it objectively and without passion but now as he is on the verge of entering, he cannot help but feel mildly apprehensive and claustrophobic at the thought of being forced to walk a narrow road, surrounded by flame.
Arnir shakes himself out of his state of contemplation and drinks deeply from the flask Torrent provided, grimacing at the flavour. "Mother Mystra, I should have cast Prestidigitation on this bilge water....". Tossing the spent flask aside, he strips a small bit of bark from a sapling and uses it to tie back his hair before walking over the bridge and turning back to see if his companions follow.
"I'm going to take a potion of Cure Light Wounds, if you don't mind, however the rest of it is not of the utmost use to me. I could take the wand, as I'm likely the most capable of using it, and wouldn't mind the broach, but perhaps Bannock or Alric could make better use of it, given that they seem to be the target of a fair amount of aggression these days...
Bannock, Alric do either of you have room for some arrows, and perhaps this shroud from the bounty hunter camp? The shroud isn't terribly useful to any of us, but someone on our travels may be willing to part with a rather large bit of coin to obtain it. And of course, let's not forget the money!"
Arnir looks out over the bridge, and his hair is slightly tousled by the dry, hot wind. He has left his shirt unbuttoned, and rolled his his pants up to his knee in preparation for what will surely be an uncomfortable couple of days. Since seeing the Fire Forest, he has regarded it objectively and without passion but now as he is on the verge of entering, he cannot help but feel mildly apprehensive and claustrophobic at the thought of being forced to walk a narrow road, surrounded by flame.
Arnir shakes himself out of his state of contemplation and drinks deeply from the flask Torrent provided, grimacing at the flavour. "Mother Mystra, I should have cast Prestidigitation on this bilge water....". Tossing the spent flask aside, he strips a small bit of bark from a sapling and uses it to tie back his hair before walking over the bridge and turning back to see if his companions follow.