The Invasion of Baskrant (northbound) Judges: N/A, DM: Cute-Hydra

[salt3d]

"I think you're thinking of orcs. The half-bloods aren't nearly that vindictive!"

 

[Donutboy]

Astheone laughs. "Thanks for that image, Esraethan! I'll keep that in mind for next time a half-orc is my target!"

 

[Sasahara]

Esraethan turns to Len. "No, the orcish poetry I've heard doesn't bear repeating in polite company. It is apparently about a man from some place called 'Nantucket'.

"Of course, I might have just met bad poets.

"Now, where are our badges?"

 

[salt3d]

"I'm sure our badges are waiting for us in that room the half-orc directed us to. Unless your memory is better than mine we'd better keep up with the well-dressed blue fellow, otherwise we'll end up lost!"

Len scurries to catch up to Hunzu.

 

[Cute-Hydra]

You move through the building surprised at how well decorated the stone walls are, when you move out of the obvious deserted rooms the military are congregating in you start seeing expensive works of art, paintings and the like.

When you arrive at the room you were directed too, you are consciously aware that you are the latecomers. It is a massive hall with hundreds of seats. Most of them are filled with mercenary looking types such as you. On the stage talking is a human dressed in fine black robes, he is extremely pale and his dark oily hair is limp and clings to his head.

There are some empty seats littered around including at the back...

 

[Sasahara]

Esraethan quietly slips into a seat at the back, not wanting to miss any information that might keep him alive. He looks around at the other mercenaries, wondering what the badges look like. He shudders, picturing a large, ugly badge which will ruin his fine outfit.

 

[Darksteed]

*Hunzu as he moves into the room looks it over for a moment then slips to the back and leans up against a wall. Placing his hands within his suit pockets. Idly waiting for the lecture to come come.*

 

[rb780nm]

Sound of Stone moves into the theatre and takes a seat.

 

[Donutboy]

Astheone slips into a seat next to Esraethan. Then he taps the half-orc in front of him on the shoulder. "You know where a man can get a decent cup of coffee 'round here?" After receiving a nasty glare from the half-orc, he responds, "Guess you're not the coffee type."

 

[salt3d]

The first empty seat Len spots is in the middle of a row, and he makes his way to it without bothering to look for one located more conveniently.

"Sorry; thanks; excuse me; sorry; whoops; excuse me; ta; sorry!"

Upon reaching the seat Len finds it flanked by two burly men, arms folded and legs like tree trunks, leaving almost no space for Len.

"Pardon me; if I could just; excuse me; just a moment." Len's attempts to squeeze into the seat are met with stony faced silence.

Len mutters to himself, "If I could somehow get in from the top, there'd likely be enough room."

Without thinking twice, the dwarf pulls himself up on to the back of the seat in front, and in the same movement leaps from it, performing a somersault and simultaneous 180 degree spin, landing with arms and legs folded between the two men.

Unfortunately for Len, instead of landing on the seat of the chair he becomes wedged between the men, suspended in the air and legs dangling. Unable to elicit a reaction from either of them, Len shrugs and waits for the proceedings.