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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Grassy Gnoll" data-source="post: 6775717" data-attributes="member: 6788652">Alejandro woke up. His eyes still closed, the last thing he remembered was a snarling goblin face inches away from his, a splash of blood, and a sensation of movement, feet running on sand, and the sound of laughter - maniacal laughter - and the feel of the cloth bag in his hands that he picked up from the goblin mage.Slowly, the events pieced themselves back together in his mind. He groaned. The laughter, that hideous laughter. That was his own. He rolled over in bed...With a start he opened his eyes, sitting bolt upright. Archibald, who as usual had been asleep in his shirt pocket, leaped away onto the sconce on the wall that served as a bedside table.Looking around, the gnome saw he was in his small berth on board the Guild ship. His quarterstaff was propped up against the end of the pillar that supported one end of his ship's hammock. Too late, he remembered his bed wasn't his usual pallet of cushions under the hollow tree in the Undercity.[sblock=Sea legs] Dex check: <a href="http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=105702" target="_blank">_: 1D20+2 = [7]+2 = 9</a><a href="http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=105702" target="_blank"></a>[/sblock]With an undignified tangle of hammock under, over and finally under again, he fell with a thump onto the floor of his room.Looking up towards the ceiling, he saw the daylight filtering through the round porthole in the wall, and heard the muffled sounds of the docks below. With a worried squeak, Archibald scurried down the post and across to him.[sblock=Mousese] Al? what the hell was that? Did you hit your head? Are you OK? Is there cheese? Should I find a healer? Did you say cheese?[/sblock]The gnome laughed and took his companion in his palm, nuzzling his fur.He remembered Shen picking him up and throwing him at the wizard goblin. A grin broke out on his face as he recalled his cricket stroke, swiftly followed by a familiar dull ache settling on his heart as he recalled his parents once again. And Nora! He sat up. The Red Death! The anger returned to his eyes as he found himself finding a deeper level within himself, a place where the rage at the injustice of his orphaning, the death of his parents, the plight of the Underdark citizens, the pain he felt when he should have been decapitated by that goblin in the tunnel. How he should have died at the hands of the brigand on the bridge. He realised that his rage was a tool he could use to protect himself, to protect his companions, Archie, even that nutjob of a poisoner. But even as he felt his mastery of his rage settle, he knew that beneath it lay a far greater rage, a frenzy he knew somehow instinctively he could call upon to make his foes suffer.But first, Nora.Or breakfast.As he stood up, he realised he was clutching something in his hand. Looking down, he saw the bag that he swiped from the wizard. A half formed memory surfaced of him telling the half orc guild member who tried to help him into bed that it was "my loot and to get your murdering bloody hands off it or so help me I'll collect your balls and hang them on my club".He sighed.Another friend made then.As he shook open the bag he felt his wounds had healed and with his newfound awareness of his anger, he felt somehow stronger, tougher. He opened the bag to have a quick peek inside, Archibald running up to his shoulder and looking in, too.[sblock=Mousese] Is it the cheese you were telling me about?[/sblock]</blockquote>

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