D&D 5E (2014) Witcher: Mother of Monsters
- Thread starter Quickleaf
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Fenris
Adventurer
Fergus had never flinched from her punches before, but this time, due mostly to the dark, Elora managed to punch him loveingly right in an open claw wound. Fergus tried to conceal that pain and quick movement as best he could. He looks at her with a hang dog expression. "My apologies lassie. I did hear you, I did call back, but there were three of the beasts and for some reason, I was having difficulty with them. Perhaps the blood moon betwitched my blade, I don't know. My I am sorry I was not able to attend to you. Though I am glad to see you here and hopefully unharmed?" says the witcher as his own blood is forming a red spot on the grass.
Quickleaf
Legend
http://i.*****.com/pkrp0qb.jpg
Leaving Old Nan's ruined cottage for the time being, you make your way to the Inn of the Sojourn Plough. Several alarmed villagers peer from shuttered windows or hurry home off the streets of Lower Posada bathed in the ruddy light of the red moon. Two village toughs with hardened leather caps and clubs stand guard over the entrance to the inn, where two torches have been lit. They appear to be only half-drunk, but upon seeing Tamaran, one taps his fellow's shoulder to get his attention.
"Oi told ye, there were elves afoot in the woods tonight, Breemly! Quick, we've to run for it or he'll pox our loins, e' will!" The one says, clutching his fellow by the arm as the two stagger off into the night.
The Sojourn Plough straddles the line between quaint and rustic, with a thatch roof that could do with a bit of repair. When you enter through the main door it squeaks loudly on its hinges and is nearly blown wide by an incoming gust of warm air brought down from the mountains. As is often the case with small villages like this, the ground floor of the inn serves as a watering hole for locals and travelers. Tonight, however, there is only one sullen bearded man drinking in a corner by the fireplace. A bumbling portly man, who some of you already know as Guilehelm the Innkeeper's Husband, nervously washes down the tables, eyes darting outside to the supernaturally red moon.
Swallowing, he approaches with a pitcher of sourdough ale and oats. His nubby fingers shake as he sets it down at your table, glancing sidelong at Tamaran before quickly catching himself. "E-evning. It's once in a blue moon that we get a red...well, that is to say...the saying is a bit off...it's...ah...ahem. Excuse me," he stutters.
Leaving Old Nan's ruined cottage for the time being, you make your way to the Inn of the Sojourn Plough. Several alarmed villagers peer from shuttered windows or hurry home off the streets of Lower Posada bathed in the ruddy light of the red moon. Two village toughs with hardened leather caps and clubs stand guard over the entrance to the inn, where two torches have been lit. They appear to be only half-drunk, but upon seeing Tamaran, one taps his fellow's shoulder to get his attention.
"Oi told ye, there were elves afoot in the woods tonight, Breemly! Quick, we've to run for it or he'll pox our loins, e' will!" The one says, clutching his fellow by the arm as the two stagger off into the night.
The Sojourn Plough straddles the line between quaint and rustic, with a thatch roof that could do with a bit of repair. When you enter through the main door it squeaks loudly on its hinges and is nearly blown wide by an incoming gust of warm air brought down from the mountains. As is often the case with small villages like this, the ground floor of the inn serves as a watering hole for locals and travelers. Tonight, however, there is only one sullen bearded man drinking in a corner by the fireplace. A bumbling portly man, who some of you already know as Guilehelm the Innkeeper's Husband, nervously washes down the tables, eyes darting outside to the supernaturally red moon.
Swallowing, he approaches with a pitcher of sourdough ale and oats. His nubby fingers shake as he sets it down at your table, glancing sidelong at Tamaran before quickly catching himself. "E-evning. It's once in a blue moon that we get a red...well, that is to say...the saying is a bit off...it's...ah...ahem. Excuse me," he stutters.
Azurewraith
Explorer
"Pox yer loins? You must 'av me confused with one of wit tother elves, I'll eat yer skin while its still attached." Tamaran retorts as the men retreat mimicking there bumpkin accent.
As the ale and sourdough arrives Tamaran notices the glance from the fat man, one out burst was enough he wouldn't want his new companions to think he was some hardline radical.
"Quite in here tonight, don't tell me you d'hoine are scared of an off colour moon"
As the ale and sourdough arrives Tamaran notices the glance from the fat man, one out burst was enough he wouldn't want his new companions to think he was some hardline radical.
"Quite in here tonight, don't tell me you d'hoine are scared of an off colour moon"
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Fenris
Adventurer
"Do not mock them elf. Your race has done enough to sow and reap ignorance among enough peoples. You may wander back onto the darkness of the forest if you cannot be civil outside of the trees." snarls Fergus to the elf.
Fenris
Adventurer
"If he wishes to keep his tongue in his mouth, he should watch the words that fall from it then. You know something of our mission it appear then elf, and have offered your help, unasked. Speak of how you came to us then." adds Fergus
Azurewraith
Explorer
"I would watch ones own tongue, lets not forget who invaded who shall we, nor who the real freak around here is. I come under order's from Enid an Gleanna to help with your task of escorting Odvara. Apparently you are having issues. Tamaran quickly retorts at Fergus without even thinking almost on instinct.
Fenris
Adventurer
"First of all it is whom. Secondly, that is not germane to the issue at hand. And thirdly, standing in the woods and watching someone fight and doing nothing about it doesn't fit even an elvish definition of helping" replies Fergus
Azurewraith
Explorer
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"It helped me greatly nothing like a bit of recon"
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