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<blockquote data-quote="NCSUCodeMonkey" data-source="post: 1220436" data-attributes="member: 2047">Dahlmut blinks and then gives a slight shake of the head.&quot;Yes, Jackobi,&quot; he replies, scrubbing a hand through his slighly matted, black hair, &quot;I know you. How is that boil of yours, anyway? I told you that sheep--&quot; Dahlmut stops mid-glib as he catches sight of something just over Lellard's shoulder and his face falls.&nbsp; &quot;Oh, by the ill coin of Tymora, not now...&quot;&quot;DAHLMUT CREEDSON!&quot; comes a shriek from the other side of the crowd. &quot;Where are you...you...lazy, smelly, overbearing...&quot; Dahlmut almost drops his spear as he hastily makes his way across the street to the bellowing woman. Quite a few men chuckle at the old fisherman as he tries to quiet the banshee. From this distance, it's hard to determine exactly what they are saying, but terse words, and a few coins, change hands before the woman...Bella? Yes, Bella...turns and marches back down the street. She never looks back.Dahlmut tromps back across the sqaure and wearily rests his bulk on one of his spears. After a moment, he seems to feel the stare of Jackobi boring into his skull. &quot;Ah, well...yes,&quot; he mubles as he scratches the underside of his bulbous nose, &quot;Sorry, lad. Perhaps we'll all be better off if we keep our ego's in our pants, eh?&quot;&nbsp; He looks again towards Bella's retreating back.The morning just got even more unusual.&nbsp; Dahlmut Creedson never apologizes.[OOC]D'oh! I was worried about the posts getting a little out of sequence. I'll try to reply a bit faster next time. Also, I thought I'd qualify the statement &quot;old fisherman&quot; a bit. Dahlmut's really only 30something, so still young by D&amp;D (and modern) standards. I tend to view his caricature as old due to his frazzled appearance.[/OOC]</blockquote>

[QUOTE="NCSUCodeMonkey, post: 1220436, member: 2047"] Dahlmut blinks and then gives a slight shake of the head. "Yes, Jackobi," he replies, scrubbing a hand through his slighly matted, black hair, "I know you. How is that boil of yours, anyway? I told you that sheep--" Dahlmut stops mid-glib as he catches sight of something just over Lellard's shoulder and his face falls. "Oh, by the ill coin of Tymora, not now..." "DAHLMUT CREEDSON!" comes a shriek from the other side of the crowd. "Where are you...you...lazy, smelly, overbearing..." Dahlmut almost drops his spear as he hastily makes his way across the street to the bellowing woman. Quite a few men chuckle at the old fisherman as he tries to quiet the banshee. From this distance, it's hard to determine exactly what they are saying, but terse words, and a few coins, change hands before the woman...Bella? Yes, Bella...turns and marches back down the street. She never looks back. Dahlmut tromps back across the sqaure and wearily rests his bulk on one of his spears. After a moment, he seems to feel the stare of Jackobi boring into his skull. "Ah, well...yes," he mubles as he scratches the underside of his bulbous nose, "Sorry, lad. Perhaps we'll all be better off if we keep our ego's in our pants, eh?" He looks again towards Bella's retreating back. The morning just got even more unusual. Dahlmut Creedson never apologizes. [COLOR=Cyan][OOC]D'oh! I was worried about the posts getting a little out of sequence. I'll try to reply a bit faster next time. Also, I thought I'd qualify the statement "old fisherman" a bit. Dahlmut's really only 30something, so still young by D&D (and modern) standards. I tend to view his caricature as old due to his frazzled appearance.[/OOC][/COLOR] [/QUOTE]

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