"Hey Garf, the wazzock at the back has pied the hoodies. You'd better fledge off before you get narked."
[sblock=rolls]Solveig's Bluff (1/2 Fellowship):
1d100=4
Thugs' Willpower:
1d100=50, 1d100=55, 1d100=16 [/sblock]
"No gamon, mot?" said one of the thugs, his cutlass still dripping with the dwarf's blood. "I ain't the kind o' lurch ta get hooked."
"Righto," agreed another, wiping his blade. "We's had a chat wit' the shorty inat, they've heard the news. Les rub it afore we drops a glove."
They cleaned their blades, sheathed them, and turned to leave the Laughing Goblin. The third brigand swung the crossbow around threateningly, then followed his compatriots out the door.
[sblock=translation]"Are you not lying, lady? I'm not the sort to be abandoned by his peers and arrested."
"You're right. In my estimation, we've killed our short, hirsute friend, and the patrons of this establishment have received our message of intimidation. Let us leave this place before the authorities show up and sentence us to having a hand removed, as is the common penalty for brigandry."[/sblock]