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Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Mallak" data-source="post: 4071593" data-attributes="member: 37105">The old man licks his lips nervously, eyeing the point of Grondar's weapon. He glances over his shoulder to where the steering pole goes out the back of the cabin into the dark water, as if gauging the distance to the slit. He turns back quickly, smiling broadly."Well, why didn't'cha say so? They be wantin' the dead body 'cause he's their friend, like I said. Now, why're you interested in a dead body, eh? You necros?" His eyes dart between them and he lets out a high-pitched giggle. "Hehe...One man's trash is another man's body! All right, then, well, I can't shift this thing on me own, now can I?" he says, walking over to the tarp-wrapped bundle. The two sailors keep a close eye on him. He looks longingly over the edge of the boat to the shore, but another glance at Grondar's spear seems to be enough to keep him in line. He tries to lift the bundle, but it really is too heavy for him.Magyar appears back on the deck of the Pander Ban, spear in hand. The weapon moves his thoughts involuntarily to battle, and with the thought of battle he can almost feel a black crossbow bolt lodged in his side again, the razor sharp head moving about, slicing his insides. Colmarr is watching the barge below, and he can hear most of what is going on. Grondar's dog stands beside him, sniffing the night air. Troth keeps a close watch on the sails, ready to get the boat moving again on a moment's notice. His wounds pain him, but he ignores them, focused on the task at hand.</blockquote>

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