D&D 5E Spell & Crossbones

[Hannerdyn]

"Ah!" Cries Hugo in pain and genuine surprise at the brute's cunning. He turns to his audience, now narrating:
"Note that only Gvido's sons are remembered
/ for the father was lost to surging contempt
/ and the mothers of the great babes are but numbered
/ in his own diseased mind, beguiling and fever-swept"

OOC:

Wisdom (Insight) 1d20+2 → [15,2] = (17) to discover Gvido's intent.
Dexterity (Slight of Hand) 1d20+4 → [10,4] = (14) Hugo rocks back on his heels, slightly, using his weight to pull and his lower center of gravity to his advantage.

 

[Fenris]

Viatrix de Smit sighs deeply, clearly Old Zef understanding the burden on her shoulders. She looks over at the gathering of dwarves behind her, those who are semi-conscious nodding in agreement. "Aye, you old sea dog, if you've got a ship and will give us a fair share we'll sweat and bleed for you. Just give us till morning to sober up, er, maybe till afternoon. There's twelve of us--"

A rather short dwarf wearing a red cap with an unusually high-pitched voice pipes up at the end of the bar, raising his finger for emphasis, "Thirteen!"

Squinting at the thirteenth dwarf, Viatrix leans over to one of her fellows. "Isn't that one a halfling or a gnome?" To which one of her inebriated fellows looks closely at the dwarf in the red cap, then shrugs with a bleary expression. "Hmm, well, there's thirteen of us. Thirteen dwarves. It's all of us or none, you know our ways." She spits on her hand and offers it to Old Zef.

Zef looks over at the red-capped dwarf, "I though he were a squirrel." shrugs Zef, spitting into his own hand and shaking the proffered hand. "Aye, a fair share indeed. The ship be a 'coming, along with the rest o' the crew. We have a driven core of officers I tell you and they will get things moving. Now were do I find the thirteen of you tomorrow?"

 

[Quickleaf]

The Insult Arm Wrestling Match
Despite Gvido's crushing grip and cunning, Hugo maintains a slight advantage. Gvido narrows his eyes as Hugo's body weight shifts ever so slightly, his many years of experience arm wrestling catch the strategy just in time to flex his forearm and sink his own weight in the chair. Now sweat is on both their brows and Gvido's muscles really are trembling. The Latvians cheer for Gvido to crush Hugo's arm to splinters, though the dwarves conversing with Old Zef have begun cheering for Hugo.

"Hah! The only crazy one here is you, thinking you can...grrr...beat my oxen strength with those puny guns! Tell me, how does my 'surging contempt' taste now, Dutchman? Bitter like your mother's milk or sharp like cheese?" With those words, Gvido begin to press hard against his opponent's hand, using all his strength to force a deciding outcome.

OOC: Gvido Berzins - Wisdom (Perception) check (advantage from his great insult last round) = 14 1d20+4=15 (edit--should be 1d20+3=14!) 1d20+3=5 Make a Strength check, only doubling your ability modifier (so...still +0 for Hugo), with advantage thanks to your poem! If you win or tie this check, you win the match! If you lose, it will go to opposed Constitution checks (where Hugo's bicep-preserving strategy grants him a +2 bonus). Gvido Berzins - Strength check (double modifier) 1d20+6=14 Insult Arm Wrestling: Progress Tracker 1st Round - Hugo wins! 21 Sleight of Hand (Hugo) vs. 8 Athletics (Gvido) 2nd Round - Tie! 17 Insight (Hugo) vs. 17 Deception (Gvido) 3rd Round - Tie! 14 Sleight of Hand (Hugo) vs. 14 Perception (Gvido) 4th Round...

 

[Quickleaf]

Zef looks over at the red-capped dwarf, "I though he were a squirrel." shrugs Zef, spitting into his own hand and shaking the proffered hand. "Aye, a fair share indeed. The ship be a 'coming, along with the rest o' the crew. We have a driven core of officers I tell you and they will get things moving. Now were do I find the thirteen of you tomorrow?"

Viatrix chuckles with a pained look in her eye. "Well, I expect half of these drunks to be slumped in a corner with their own vomit come morning, or maybe Ulsta will throw 'em out come closing time. But me and the sober ones will be over at Moray's, the provisioner in the town square, till early afternoon getting the last of our meager pay. After that, we'll be back here.

She pauses as a roar goes thru the crowd, cheering on the dwarf and human arm wrestling. Viatrix yells an insult in Dutch at Gvido and chuckles. "Speaking of Ulsta," she gestures to the younger blonde haired dwarven proprietress of the tavern, "her father was a feared pirate captain before he caught the yellow fever. Some of his surviving crew are living in tents near the docks. Old Beck was his old second mate. Might be worth talking to if you're needing more crew. Cheers." She clinks mugs with Old Zef and polishes off the dregs of her ale.

 

[Unsung]

"A king's wage to a boy of his ilk," declares Gunner Teague, after Samuel Sawyer runs off, coin in hand. The gunner is puffing on a cracked, discoloured pipe which he does not own, but ought to find its way back into the tavern before it is missed. "More fool would he be, not to deliver your message, but will he dare return for the balance of his reward?" The old man seems to be speaking to Nia Steeleyes. No one else seems nearby.

However there is a wary reverence to his stooped posture, and the liquor is only one small part. His head is lowered, his one eye turned aside. Young Sam Sawyer is not alone, it appears, in his superstitious fear, be it of Sea Witch or Tengu King, Old King Rook and she of eyes of steel.

"No doubt the urchin be accustomed to a clout on the head for his supper, and naught else. A kindness of ye, lady," Teague nods. Still he avoids meeting her uncanny gaze with his own.

 

[Hannerdyn]

Guns you say? Man, I've seen what cannon can do to cattle, and I'll re-create the memory before this rabble... So prepare... your ox-hide... for a broadside!" Hugo roared, pouring every ounce of will, hernia and alcohol into a new assault.

OOC: Strength check with advantage:
1d20 → [8] = (8)
1d20 → [1] = (1)

 

[Fenris]

Viatrix chuckles with a pained look in her eye. "Well, I expect half of these drunks to be slumped in a corner with their own vomit come morning, or maybe Ulsta will throw 'em out come closing time. But me and the sober ones will be over at Moray's, the provisioner in the town square, till early afternoon getting the last of our meager pay. After that, we'll be back here.

She pauses as a roar goes thru the crowd, cheering on the dwarf and human arm wrestling. Viatrix yells an insult in Dutch at Gvido and chuckles. "Speaking of Ulsta," she gestures to the younger blonde haired dwarven proprietress of the tavern, "her father was a feared pirate captain before he caught the yellow fever. Some of his surviving crew are living in tents near the docks. Old Beck was his old second mate. Might be worth talking to if you're needing more crew. Cheers." She clinks mugs with Old Zef and polishes off the dregs of her ale.

"Thanks for the tip. I will look Old Beck up." Zef offers. Zef then wanders back over to the arm-wrestling. Walking up behind the human Old Zef proffers a gem "Hugo, ain't you beaten this mental midget yet? I am surprised he can speak and move his arm at the same time."

 

[Quickleaf]

Gvido's muscles are really shaking now, and he's starting to sweat onto the table. They've pushed each other to the breaking point. Growling at Old Zef's comment, he squeezes poor Hugo's hand like he's trying to pulp sugarcane or press whey in a cheesecloth. "Rrr...The only broadside you'll be hitting...hnnnr...is the tavern floor when I finish you! At least it won't be a long drop for a squat legged toad!" The Latvians are starting to chant Gvido's name, pounding the table, sending reverberations thru the competitors' elbows.

OOC: Gvido Berzins - Constitution (arm wrestling proficiency) check 1d20+3=15 Make a Constitution check with a +2 bonus and with advantage for a great apropos insult last round! Insult Arm Wrestling: Progress Tracker 1st Round - Hugo wins! 21 Sleight of Hand (Hugo) vs. 8 Athletics (Gvido) 2nd Round - Tie! 17 Insight (Hugo) vs. 17 Deception (Gvido) 3rd Round - Tie! 14 Sleight of Hand (Hugo) vs. 14 Perception (Gvido) 4th Round - Gvido Wins! 8 Strength (Hugo) vs. 14 Strength (Gvido) 5th Round...

 

[Fenris]

Quickleaf
[sblock] Zef will use his minor conjuration ability to make a small, cast-iron oxen figurine (10 pounds though!) appear in Gvido's lap and drop heavily onto his genitals. No trying to cause injury really, but rather as a distraction, both symbolically ie an oxen, to unnerve him as well as the physical distraction of a 10 pound piece of iron landing on his manhood. While being as discreet as possible of course.

Edit: Oh and as soon as Gvido sees it and realizes what it is in his lap, it will disappear. [/sblock]

 

[Hannerdyn]

"The only thing 'Finnish' here are the spirits of your embarrassed ancestors!" cried Hugo, his voice up an octave from the pain in his hand, the burn in his arm and the bunched muscles in his neck. He thought he might black out. For all of it, he took sudden energy from coming up with a decisive pun. Win or lose, the battle of sharpened tongues was his to claim, at least.

OOC: [sblock]I must have done something to the people at Invisible Castle. Something terrible.
Constitution roll, +2, with advantage.

1d20+4 → [2,4] = (6)
1d20+4 → [2,4] = (6)

Sadvantage[/sblock]