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Dagart looks at the newcomer curiously, the stench overwhelming. Unsure of what to say, he looks around at the other companions..hoping one of them knows how to politely get this smelly guy away from them.

Aramil and Kaliska follow the tall man towards the cabins.

Dagart nods at Faust. "Dagart Kromdain...and aye, I'm here for these Caverns. From th' sounds o it, these be no child's play...took the leg o the smith next door, they did, and he looked like he could swing a blade."

As Aramil walks out of the tower, he pauses to take a look around. Hundreds, no, thousands of people all seem to be bustling about on their own business, paying no heed to one another. He turns to the halfling next to him. "It's all so...big. I'm afraid I might become lost. Will you come...

Why does it list the hit dice as "9" instead of "9d10+18"?

I'll guard the rear.

That's what this guy uses, he just does the molding and painting for you.

Re: Vanlail, Walks into the Dancing Griffon Dagart grunts softly, trying not to spill his mouthful of ale. After swallowing, he turns to the newcomer. "It's tolerable. A bit too much fermentation, and the color's a bit off, too. Might be a case of..." The dwarf trails off as he takes...

Well, it doesn't really say, but small weapons weigh half as much. Maybe it's the same length, but thinner, so a halfling can wield it easier. Maybe halflings dance around a bit more as they're fighting and are better at ducking in and out of an opponent's fighting space, effectively...

What she said. Only thing keeping it from being perfect is the fact that "Zheenkeef" is a funny name. :D

*clutches his Hero Builder's Guidebook in his hands and whispers to it* It's okay, my precious...I still loves you, I do. We knows you're nots as silly as Swords and Fistses.

Dagart grunts his condolences to the smith for the loss of his leg. "I'd love t' hear more about these caverns, but I'm dead thirsty from the road." He nods in the direction of the Silver Griffon. "Find me there when ye're finished around here and I'll buy ye a drink. Good luck, and may yer...

Amaril nervously sits on one of the chairs and glances around the room, inspecting the paintings. Why anyone would want to paint a forest rather than live in one is a mystery, but the elf appears impressed by the attention to detail. He notices the others siding the pouches into their pockets...

Aramil looks frightened at the strange creature answering the door, and his hand instantly strays to the hilt of his sword. As the rest of the travelers head inside, he stays behind, looking around nervously. Kaliska sniffs the ground and trots through the door without a care in the world, and...

Dagart clasps hands with the dwarf in a friendly greeting. "Might fine shop ye run here, brother. Shame that your talents are wasted making blades for the too-talls around these parts. Name's Dagart, son of Dragnor, son of Daldain, of the Kromdain clan. I don't figure much of our brew makes...

"You may pet Kaliska, if she wishes to be petted. As for my mask..one could just as easily ask why you don't wear one.

"But I have been invited. Every night, as the moon hangs high in the sky and I let the trance take over me, I see this very same structure. Rising high into the air, the sun glistening just as it is now. Tell me, human...what manner of place is this? Be it the home of some demon?"

Aramil jumps slightly as the halfling calls out to him. "Sneaky small ones around here," he thinks to himself. The elf crosses his arms in front of his chest and nods his head in a gesture of greeting, then turns back to the door, looking at it despondently. He turns back to the halfling once...

Rolls are under "Meepo2" Stats: 16 12 15 12 15 18 12 becomes 18 18, 18, 16, 15, 15, 12 Aramil Male Wild Elf Cleric (Fenmarel Mestarine) Level 1 Str: 15 Dex: 20 (18 + 2 racial) Con: 16 Int: 13 (15 - 2 racial) Wis: 18 Cha: 12 Hit Points: 11 AC: 19 (18 without buckler if using bow), 14 flat...