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"Aye, sounds a plan, an' a righ' sound one wit' tha righ' dwarf in tha lead, what." Graval says, adjusting the straps on his overstuffed pack to prepare himself for the long journey. "An' iffen tha townfolks say tha road is clear, we can be makin' good time ta Mallaby's sweetie so le's stop tha...

Glad everyone is safe, HMG. I'm sure everyone will understand if your real life takes precedence over PbP.

The dwarf stands, armed crossed, looking over the map and their proposed travel plan. "Aye, tha' makes sense, unless tha father dun wan' ye ta be marryin' his daugh'er, what," he says in a very off-handed way. "This tha way the lass took on her own jour...joorn...her own trip?"

Graval laughs loudly, holding his stomach. "Aye, got plen'y o' them ta spare, what. Tha fancy Lord Mallaby was kind enough fer offerin' his dandy wine, don' fer doubtin'."

Graval mulls over the paladin's statement a moment, letting the words wash over his foggy thoughts. He may call it by a different name, but perhaps the dwarf feels the same way. "Or get yerself stuck in tha doorframe, what," he chuckled, following Goldenhorn below decks.

Graval gives a momentary frown. "All tha ale an' all me hearin' from ye is: 'cannae keep wit' yer pred...predigi...wit' yer grea' drinkin' abili'y, ye migh'y dwarf!'" "God sword?" he inquires a moment before turning toward Eraden. "A paladin, aye. Wha' say ye, paladin? Ye here fer love or fer...

"Aye, fer true. Talles' hunk o' moun'ain e'er seen, tha' one." The dwarf gives Spider a hearty handshake to welcome him onboard. Even though they just met each other, Graval had a feeling the half-orc was a true and honorable companion, someone he could drink a few pints with, as well as cleave...

Graval Metalrent, doing it for love. Taking swigs from the rather expensive bottle of wine like he was drinking the cheapest ale to be found, Graval stands before Lord Mallaby's ship. He's fully outfitted for battle, plate armor covering his vitals, a shield strapped to his back and an old...

"Auch, travelin' by sea. Me belly's gonna hate me fer this." Graval finishes the wine in his glass in a single gulp and, seeing Zardi leave, drinks the goliath's wine as well. "One fer tha road, what." He collects his gear, snags the bottle of ambrosia still sitting on the table and offers...

"Aye, indeed. Iffen yer needin' help wit' some skulls ta chop, Spider, me axe be right there wit' ye. As long as they gots some coins fer libera...liberar...coins fer takin'! Haha!" The stout and ale smelling dwarf followed the large half-orc over toward Mallaby and gave an exaggerated bow, his...

"Aye, he does. He seems like a new con...contenn...like tha new winner fer 'fancy lad!' Hahaha!" he throws back the rest of his eighth, or tenth, ale and offers another suitably dwarven belch. "Wha' do ye think o' these folk lookin' fer help, Spider? Interested in makin' a bit o' coin? Tha...

Graval Metalrent (Level 1 Dwarf Fighter) First character who might qualify for adventure. If you scale it to 4-6 level, though, I'll obviously be unable to attend.

The dwarf does look aghast on seeing Spider's hair in his ale but shrugs as if the hair isn't the worst thing that's been in his drink before. His eyes grow wider, though, when Spider gives a quick count on their little wager. "I see ye tryin' ta cheat, ya durned sneak!" He upends his mug, and...

The dwarf watches the dark elf's grand display whilst drinking yet another ale; his bushy eyebrows raise a bit at the sound and light show that goes on during his speech but he appears keenly interested. When all is said and done, and the dark elf returns to his seat by the bar, he places his...

"No need fer ye money, lad. Yer fellow elf-kin is payin' fer tha time bein'." He points to the dark elf clad in blue sitting near the end of the bar while motioning for yet another ale. He's going to make that elf regret his shiny platinum piece even if he has to drink himself unconscious - not...

Sipping on his ale between tearing hunks out of a rather large lamb leg, the dwarf nods sagely as he listens to Spider's outrage - or as sagely as possible with a beer soaked beard and pieces of meat lodged in his mustache. "A real trage'y tha'. A cause worthy o' some skull smashin', me thinks."...

"Agen' o' tha schism, eh? Ne'er heared o' him afore. Wha's about him so in'erestin'?" The last couple of words are drowned out as he finishes his fourth ale in five minutes. By the by, thanks for all the welcomes. : )

Graval Metalrent - also belch master. "This is me kinda place, what. Ever'one buyin' me drinks and offerin' introd...intr -- 'ellos!" Graval grabs hold of Spider's proffered hand and gives it a hearty shake. "And ye be right o' that, Spider, I been th' belch master fer four years runnin', don't...

Graval Metalrent, door kicker extraordinare. Upon hearing that another is paying to get him drunk, the dwarf snatches up the gold piece with one hand while simultaneously upending the refilled mug into his gaping maw with the other. The ale, once again, mostly stays in his mouth; only a few...

The barroom door opens with a resounding crash, letting the rain and smell of ozone seep into the common room once again; following close behind the swinging portal clanks an armed and armored dwarf, water flowing off him in rivers. With nary a twitch of his arm, he sends the door crashing...