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<blockquote data-quote="BoldItalic" data-source="post: 7342134" data-attributes="member: 6777052"><p>Pumped and full of vim, it was then when he did something rash, something brave. He.............. </p><p></p><p>... burst into song and, while singing The Acrobat's Chorus from Wriggletto, leapt into the air, swung from the chandelier, did a triple overhand aerial somersault, sprang off the wall behind one of the ruffians, grabbed the man's cloak and folded it over its wearers head thus causing the hapless ruffian to fumble his attack and stab himself in the knee.</p><p></p><p>And all this whilst unknowingly leaving his coin pouch in Sam's capable hands, where it would be quite, quite safe.</p><p></p><p>Herewulf, meanwhile, was punching his own assailant repeatedly in the face with his mailed fist with the result that the man's face was becoming less and less bruised and more and more healed. Even a vicious-looking scar that the man had received in childhood started to fade. Herewulf rolled 18 on a Wisdom(Insight) check and the penny finally dropped. "Hey, guys," he shouted, "I can do it! I can <em>Lay on Hands</em>!".</p><p></p><p>Then the lights went out.</p><p></p><p>"Who did that?" asked Nord, floating six inches off the ground and trading swear words with a ruffian in a private skill contest to see who know the rudest ones.</p><p></p><p>"Me," relied Jeli. "I found this orb in my pocket, don't know how it got there, but it seems to do <em>Darkness</em>."</p><p></p><p>One of the ruffians groaned. "You do realise, madam, that you've ended this encounter right there? Come on, lads, it's lunch time. They're doing mock boar soup back at the hideout. With croutons."</p><p></p><p>Sam called out to the departing ruffians "Tell Glassteel I said it's not me, it's him. He'll know what it means."</p><p></p><p>Jeli looked at Sam with interest and rounded on Od, Herewulf and Nord. "You three! Outside! There's going to be girl talk going on in here and it's not for your ears!"</p><p></p><p>"All right, all right, keep your hair on," grumbled Od.</p><p></p><p>It was raining outside. Fortunately, the illusion of burnt houses had gone. "What shall we do now?" mused Herewulf, pulling on a waterproof hood to keep his helmet dry.</p><p></p><p>"Getting out of the rain would be a good idea," suggested Od. "Let's try that old ruined manor house up the hill."</p><p></p><p>"Or we could try the provisioners," countered Nord. "It's a bit nearer and I'm all out of ten-foot poles. Anyone got any money?"</p><p></p><p>"Er," said Od, patting his pockets and looking perplexed. "I had ... There was ... Where did I put ..."</p><p></p><p>"Alright, you've made your point, no need to ham it up."</p><p></p><p>"No, really, I think I've lost my coin pouch. I must have dropped it during the skirmish."</p><p></p><p>"Much in it, was there?"</p><p></p><p>"3d6 gp and 1d4 gemstones worth 100gp each."</p><p></p><p>"That's a lot of ten-foot poles."</p><p></p><p>The interior of the trading post was filled with an amalgam of aromas, athough leather and spice, wood and biscuits, chalk and cheese predominated. The trader was a portly gentleman in a leather apron, with a bushy moustache, a slight limp and 'I love Mum' tatooed on his left shoulder, but the three adventurers noticed none of these clues. "What can I get you gentlemen?" he inquired.</p><p></p><p>"We ..."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="BoldItalic, post: 7342134, member: 6777052"] Pumped and full of vim, it was then when he did something rash, something brave. He.............. ... burst into song and, while singing The Acrobat's Chorus from Wriggletto, leapt into the air, swung from the chandelier, did a triple overhand aerial somersault, sprang off the wall behind one of the ruffians, grabbed the man's cloak and folded it over its wearers head thus causing the hapless ruffian to fumble his attack and stab himself in the knee. And all this whilst unknowingly leaving his coin pouch in Sam's capable hands, where it would be quite, quite safe. Herewulf, meanwhile, was punching his own assailant repeatedly in the face with his mailed fist with the result that the man's face was becoming less and less bruised and more and more healed. Even a vicious-looking scar that the man had received in childhood started to fade. Herewulf rolled 18 on a Wisdom(Insight) check and the penny finally dropped. "Hey, guys," he shouted, "I can do it! I can [i]Lay on Hands[/i]!". Then the lights went out. "Who did that?" asked Nord, floating six inches off the ground and trading swear words with a ruffian in a private skill contest to see who know the rudest ones. "Me," relied Jeli. "I found this orb in my pocket, don't know how it got there, but it seems to do [i]Darkness[/i]." One of the ruffians groaned. "You do realise, madam, that you've ended this encounter right there? Come on, lads, it's lunch time. They're doing mock boar soup back at the hideout. With croutons." Sam called out to the departing ruffians "Tell Glassteel I said it's not me, it's him. He'll know what it means." Jeli looked at Sam with interest and rounded on Od, Herewulf and Nord. "You three! Outside! There's going to be girl talk going on in here and it's not for your ears!" "All right, all right, keep your hair on," grumbled Od. It was raining outside. Fortunately, the illusion of burnt houses had gone. "What shall we do now?" mused Herewulf, pulling on a waterproof hood to keep his helmet dry. "Getting out of the rain would be a good idea," suggested Od. "Let's try that old ruined manor house up the hill." "Or we could try the provisioners," countered Nord. "It's a bit nearer and I'm all out of ten-foot poles. Anyone got any money?" "Er," said Od, patting his pockets and looking perplexed. "I had ... There was ... Where did I put ..." "Alright, you've made your point, no need to ham it up." "No, really, I think I've lost my coin pouch. I must have dropped it during the skirmish." "Much in it, was there?" "3d6 gp and 1d4 gemstones worth 100gp each." "That's a lot of ten-foot poles." The interior of the trading post was filled with an amalgam of aromas, athough leather and spice, wood and biscuits, chalk and cheese predominated. The trader was a portly gentleman in a leather apron, with a bushy moustache, a slight limp and 'I love Mum' tatooed on his left shoulder, but the three adventurers noticed none of these clues. "What can I get you gentlemen?" he inquired. "We ..." [/QUOTE]
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