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Aye, a warlord would also be nice to replace the bard for heals But, VV ought have a bit of free reign on 'im.

Deacon sets down his shield in the cave and takes out his everburning torch from within his pack. He busies himself with exploring the inside of the cave to see how far it went, and if there was anything of potential use within it. There wasn't much he could do outside at the moment. Perception...

Just a heads up, I'll be away next week, but I'll see if I can keep updated on the game. Hoping this moves forward soon.

There were definite signs of goblin patrols in the swamp. They even saw one in the distance somewhere. Mathariel tries to pin down if the patrols are moving in any set route.

Deacon nods as the rest of the table sounds off on their talents. "And I suppose I can keep watch at the campsite while you three are scouting. I think, should it be discovered and come under attack, at least one other person and I can hold our ground the rest of you return." He idly picks...

"I think that so long as you, or any of our other allies here, can keep us from drawing too much attention to ourselves, we," he gives his old adventuring companion a nod, "can handle a few isolated patrols."

Deacon eyes the Feywine with curiosity as he pours himself a glass of beer. First something familiar, but he'd make a note to try it later. "Well, it's best if we travel by day, I suppose," he offers between sips, "Past experience tells me that our task will last us at least a few days, so I...

Mathariel shrugs. "Well, unless anyone also has any objections to that idea, I'd follow your suggestion," he offers.

Deacon offers a practiced smile as his name is said. "An honor, m'lord," he says softly but audibly. He moves to the second chair and the Baron's right. He was hardly nobility -- in fact, most of his life he had spent in the service of such people. Still, there was something to be said for being...

"Perhaps," Deacon interjects, rejoining the conversation, "It might be best to discuss these things with our host? I'm sure you're all very capable, or he wouldn'ta summoned you, and I doubt that any of us are planning to charge right at the giants," he says, stepping in to the circle of...

"Then we should plan how we'll get into the city tonight?" Mathariel asks. He looks at the map and looks around the borders of the city for any obvious entrances.

Deacon nods. "Sounds fair enough. I guess they certainly seem confident." He glances back at the rest of the group, giving each of them a proper looking over... now that he got a good look at him, there was something familiar about that fencer, Lucan. Deacon examines him with a curious look on...

Deacon sees Brook moving to the side and follows him off a ways, before lowering his voice so that only the two of them can hear it. "So, Brook, it's been a while since we traveled together. What do you think of our company?" The soldier had his own doubts about them, but he was looking for...

Deacon grunts as Wik whispers his warning. He wasn't so sure of this one. The soldier shakes the thought off as he listens the the exchange between the scholar and the rest. It certainly didn't sound pleasant. He would have dismissed it as rumor and hearsay, had such things not turn out to be...

Deacon recoils slightly at Wik's tirade, "Sorry, I didn't know you cared so much about a band of thieves," he says as he looks him over. The light armor and bow, obviously having seen much use and wear, the perpetual smile, the man might as well have been one of them. Still, he had his doubts...

Now where'd the fun it that be? :P

"These are the same giants, that we're talking about, right?" Deacon asks, tempering the growing overconfidence, "takes more than a bit of heat or a small cut to bring one of them down." the soldier looks at Brook, "I've worked with this man here before. I can assure you all that we both are...

As Deacon nears Miranda, he does certainly notice the air warming up around him and the fires burning in her eyes. In fact, he seems visibly surprised as he nears her. It appeared he was more right than he'd imagined when he came to the conclusion that she was not a commoner. He gives her a scan...

As Miranda enters the common area, she catches Deacon's attention immediately. Her way of dress, her facial features, the way she carried herself, all indicators that she was hardly one of the common folk. Perhaps she was one of the others who had come to answer the summons. Deacon picks...

I agree with everybody above me.