[Gobtales] Nightwatch

[Mirth]

D'Bruuhl seems moved by the pleas of the squire, but moreso by the persuasive arguments of Rakanishu. He puts his hand on Rakanishu's shoulder in thanks as he addresses the squire.

"Boy, I will return your master's weapon, on one condition. I shall inform Father Pierotous at the temple of Sir Winbie's offense along with all the conditions under which it happened. Your master will have to go there as soon as he is able and face his penance for this. My recommendation will be that he tithe one fifth of his earnings to the church and lay off all hard drink for one year. In addition, he will be required to attend our goblin tribe's council meetings four times during the year."

With that, he hands the short sword back to the squire. As the squire takes hold, he looks long into his face and says, "Neither of you wants to find out what will happen if Sir Winbie doesn't arrive at the temple. Is that understood?" and then D'Bruuhl releases his grip on the sword.

 

[garyh]

[Gob]"D'Bruuhl, that's wickedly brilliant,"[/Gob], Ashgyad observes.

 

[Dalamar]

[Gob]"I liked the council part best. Maybe we will say hello to him sometime."[/Gob]
Glorath finishes his comment with a grin.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Rakanishu smiles.

"That seems quite fair..........I wish your master a quick recovery," he says.

 

[Dog Faced God]

Goubido spits into the street. "Whatever we do, we should do it soon." He stretches, popping the joints in his fingers, arms and spine. A yawn twists his face into a grimace, and he yawns, "I've been awake much longer than I like, and the morning sun hurts my eyes and turns my stomach. Lets get inside."

 

[garyh]

"True," Ashgyad replies. "Let's see if we can crack this mystery..."

Ashgyad heads into the Three-Legged Toad, finally.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Rakanishu grimaces at the sun and follows Ashgyad inside.

 

[Mirth]

D'Bruuhl waits to make sure the squire and his master are leaving, then he follows the others into the Toad.

 

[Dalamar]

[Gob]"What a happy meeting. I told you the so-called 'civilized' races are just a bunch of morons."[/Gob]
Glorath moves inside, ready relieve his throat.

 

[dreamthief]

The squire cowers. "I shall mention it to him, thank you sire," he says, cradling his master in his arms.

The rest of you progress into the tavern. There is a 50ish old woman wiping the tables and who looks ready to mop the floor. "We're CLOSED! It was hard en'f gettin' that stinkin' halflin' outta here!" she says. At one corner you see a man-sized brass toad statue, from which the tavern gets its name. The tavern smells of roast meat, incense and of course, alcohol and vomit.