Game Posts

Upon the... thing popping out of the tap, Pageflap gives an undignified Squawk and backs away from it until his back hits the door. Finding the best solution to be killing it with fire, he throws a fire bolt at the black grub thing.

Getting frustrated at his lack of success when it comes to spells, Pageflap decides to go with some higher level magic. It's not very hard for him to use his staff's orb to focus his magic, drawing in water from the lingering steam in the room. He mimes holding a dagger, and one made out of ice forms in between his talons. Aiming at the disgusting little slug, Pageflap throws his newly-made Ice Knife at it.

So the wine will be an interesting twist from our ale days at the Chugging Chasm, but the rules are the same. As we have only two dice we can wait for a fourth, or Iman can choose to side with the winner, or you Aegar, his choice.

Haha, alright alright, spectating might be more amusing. Looks like there will be two shows tonight!

Barendd it's your game. So you go first. After your display of power against that log today you could surely use the advantage!

Well to start off the game a toast to you and Iman for your much more effective fighting than mine, and a toast to Raishe for bringing me back from the brink. A toast to Kit, because I feel he must always be toasted, and a toast to Pageflap our feathered friend.

To those we'll meet on our journey, and to those whom we've already met.

With that, and after many rounds of play, and many more drinks, I may have won the game, but the night is ours, because we are both drunk on this dusty wine. Please, once you're ready, make it back to your bed safely friend. Luckily I don't have to get you all the way back home this time. If need be it looks like Iman is absolutely able to keep you out of too much trouble. With that Barendd, clearly drunk, though not as much as his half elf friend directs his attentions at Raishe.
Oy padre I have questions for you. First, how are you at tracing? I require help with a tattoo and now seems like a great time. Second how did you bring me back from the brink barely worse for wear after taking this bolt to the chest (Barendd holds up the bolt he had stored in his boot)? Third do you recognize the tongue I was overcome with after being healed? Fourth, have you had enough wine? Because I feel like I could use more.
As he finishes his last question Barendd takes a hearty swig from the bottle of wine that was being used for the game while brandishing the bolt around much like he would imagine a wizard would brandish a wand.

He pokes it with the bottom of his staff to make sure it's dead. Once satisfied, he puts his backpack back on, not sure if he'll be comfortable sleeping in this room. He runs off and heads back to the tap room to warn the rest of the party.

Bursting in to the smell of wine in the air, Pageflap points back the way he came. "Something seems a little off?" he can't help but say in Aegar's questioning tone, but he follows it up with that horrible screeching noise the slug made before gesturing to his robes. There is some tiny ice shards that just barely managed to reach him, and a little bit of acid that Pageflap just noticed was blocked by his Mage Armor. He reminds himself to clean it before the armor spell ends.

Crow! You look worse off than Aegar, and he can barely stand on his feet! What are you going on about??

Ah, you look anything but rested or relaxed. Would you like some wine? Should we summon Philcock? Something seemed different about him.

Seeing Pageflap bust into the room, Aegar suddenly stands up bumping the table he was seated at. It becomes clear that seeing his compatriot in trouble, Aegar has sobered up faster than any man in the room. I knew something was wrong here! Tell us Pageflap, what has happened?

Still feeling a bit freaked out by the sickening slime slug, Pageflap gives up on bothering to play charades for now and waves for anyone who wants to to follow him. Leading the way, he stops at his room's door and slowly opens it to peer inside. He opens the door further and walks in, looking around the room before settling his gaze on the faucet. He gestures to the room, letting the rest see what state it is in, before pointing out the dead slug and repeating the screech. "No, this will not do at all!"

Thank the fates you survived, my dear boy! I still need you for tonight's performance!

Iman shovels the grub around with his foot. What in the world is this? Now looking back at the sheriff, Iman steps forward and in an angry, but concerned voice, he asks What is going on?! Is there more of this??