Normal Day pt 2
That was the plan, you know. Getting the goblins to surrender and give up the booze. When you arrived, though, at th end of the terrible tunnel of awful traps, there were a lot of scared, drunk goblins and one tall, barrel chested, harity man with goat legs and hooves and horns.
He lifts his mug towrads you.
"WELCOME," he booms.
Slurrrrp.
Give up, or even share might work for Ilmig. Fraided gobbers ain't nothing new, so he looks to the behooved one. "Oi! The barrels not bein fer the likes of ye."
Grush is soaking wet and very angry "DEMON!!" she screams, pointing her sword at the horned beast
Sopping wet, annoyed from traps and switches that drop you further into the water or crush you in small corridors. Valkea Sirron hefts her crossbow, nocking a bolt in place after a few checks to make sure it's not waterlogged.
"You do know that's sacramental wine? Do you seriously want to annoy the deity that was ment for. Gods like a bit of a drink to and I'm sure they'd be rightly annoyed at you drinking their stash. Wrath usually tends to manifest itself soon after." she points out, looking back over her shoulders to the rest of the party.
Shara wiggles a finger in her ear. "I think I could hear you the first time, Grush. Or was that the echo?" She says looking at the demon.....and securing her arrow on her bow....
Sarcis lets out a sigh, "Oh like they give a damn." She says to Valkea as her hand reaches back to snag an arrow between her fingers. She gives a rather dry smile, and thankfully she's not drenched either so it's fitting (unlike Grush). "But, I suppose stranger things /have/ happened." A little raise of her crafted eyebrows and the Oruch glances around. "So, anyone for bets on this turning into a fight? I'll put five gold on it."
GAME: Valkea rolls intimidate: (14)+6: 20
Grush is snarling a little, her teeth bared as she gets ready to charge, pulling back her sword arm and hefting her shield infront of her she screams "By Altheas light be gone from the world BEAST!!"
Shara places a hand on Grush's shoulder. "Hang on, Grush. This may not be what it seems."
"Easy, there! Easy!" The fey puts his hands up in a disarming gesture, stepping back and holding up a single tankard. "This is Ceinara's sacramental booze! It's MEANT to be drank and, really, who can blame me? SHe won't mind. In fact, you should all have a seat and have a few cups! There's plenty more, PLENTY more! We can settle this like rational people, can't we?"
The goblins are diving under the table. VAlkea is scary. So is Ilmug. Hell, all of the adventurers are scary and they're all /drunk/.
You've stumbled into what appears to be a makeshift dining area. A large, ovular table dominates it. Numerous barrels of ale have been set up against the wall. A fireplce is roaring to generate heat. Several levers are apparently on the wall. Three of them are in the down position while one remains up. There's are two more exits out of the room aside from the one you came in. Both are behind closed doors.
GAME: Shara rolls knowledge/nature: (10)+10: 20
"Aye, e's gotta point there," Ilmig admits, "'n I ain't be meanin the horns." Doesn't mean he trusts the thing, though. "What need be settled?"
"I thought I remembered your kind." Shara says out loud. 'you're not demon....though your kind looks like it. You're a satyr. The only thing you're guilty of is partying." She then chuckles. "So.....Why did you take the sacremental wine? Other than to drink?"
Ilmig glances back at the oruch chompin at the bit. "Ain't the time ta be rushin in, lass. Not yet."
"What more is there to see! These heritics are cavorting with demons and desecrating the sacrements, Lets just kill them all and be done with it!" Grush shouts, clenching her sword tightly, her body still poised to spring, but holding back. There could be traps orr other dangers she cant see, and she trusts her companions
The crossbow stays aimed though trigger discipline is a struggle as fingers stay away from the mechanism in Valkea's hands. "I'm sure you could have had your boys here lift a keg or three from a tavern after everyone had finished for the night. Rolling a priest just invites all kinds of trouble." again she nudges her blonde hair with a bounce of braided pigtails at the rather aggravated Grush.
"Ah, ah! Listen to your friends. I'm no demon even if I'm a horned fella. I'm of the Fey lands, my friend, the bright and shining ones. As for trouble... you mean, trouble like several battle hardened and ready warriors showing up at the door of my goblinoid friends here? I'm sure that Ceinara would find all this rather inspired, so you've no fear from her Royal Flameyness." He has a drink from his tankard and offers, "Sit, sit! We can drink from my personal stash if you're concerned for the priest's whiskey while we talk. I have an offer for you all."
The goblins are still hiding.
Sarcis looks between them all and simply shakes her head with a sigh, "Well, thank goodness no one took me up on that bet. I suppose I could spur Grush on though." A frown, she looks between them all, finally finishing with her dark eyes on the Satyr. "Mmm, nah."
The oruch gives a grin and crinkles her nose, "Okay, so you have all these traps on the way in, and now you offer to drink, hm? Why should we just take your word for it?" Sarcis grins wider with an arch of her brows.
"Well, let's be fair, we hardly showed up without reason, /someone/ may have borrowed something that wasn't theirs." Sarcis adds.
"Yes...satyrs are like that. have you ever known a party animal to NOT borrow something that wasn't theirs?" Shara says softly before looking to the Satyr. "Before you make your offer, we do need the Sacrimental wine. After that....we'll listen to your offer......"
Grush hasnt stopped glaring at the Sat- 'Demon' with murder in her eyes. She's been fairly deaf to most of the conversation, the blood pounding in her eyes. She's still poised to spring and seems to be losing patience with the creatures casual attitude.
"Think the main deal is pretty much how much if any of the remaining drink we leave versus letting our angry friend here keep thinking you're a demon and just get to work like she wants." Valkea points out. To the frightened goblins she adds a grin, looking about as malevolent as a half elf woman can without being actually evil. This time in goblinspeak. <<You lot better clear out if a fight starts.>> the warning actually more caring than it sounds.
"The Flame's drink is fer the Flame ta share 'r not," Ilmig admits, "but She be sharin it with them, 'r they take it? 'N what's yer business in alla this?"
The goblins are definitely nodding towards Valkea.
Nodding very much. Theere's a good four or five of them under tha table. They're drunk, sure, but they understand.
The satyr leans against the table, allowing his long dark hair to sweep in front of his eyes before he brushes it away.
"Well, you /could/, but then you'd miss the opportunity. So! Here's my offer: Beat me in a drinking contest and you can walk with the sacred whiskey of our Ceinaran compatriot and show you where the treasure is." Did he say treasure? Yes, he did.
"Lose, you STILL get the whiskey *and* I keep all the treasure for myself. Sound fair? And sicne you're concerned about tricks and poison and what not, I'll go first. And we'll use my personal stash so as to avoid causing you any trouble with a particular Goddes. Dark times amongst the Fey, friends. Dark times."
Steam practically pours out of Grushs ears "Now it offers us DEALS and BARGAINS to try and distract us? Don't you see whats happening?" Grush snaps angrily, looking around at her companions with slight suspicious, concered they may be being swayed by this beasts words
Ilmig's bushy white brows go up as he stares at the horned one. Then his beard says as he looks to the others, in turn, finally coming back around to the satyr. Another long stare, then he explodes.
In guffawing laughter that's enough to make beard wobble and belly shake.
Shara looks to Grush and yells. "ENOUGH!" Shara steps in front of Grush. "You're itching for a fight when there isn't one needed. This is not a demon.....so take a few deep breaths and set your hammer down." She then looks to the Satyr. "How about we take half of the whiskey? If we lose, that's all we get. If we win, we take the rest.....and whatever treasure you're talking about?"
Sarcis steps forward in front of Shara and speaks up, "NOPE! NOP! Not what she said, we will take your deal. All the whiskey plus the treasure on a win /OR/ all of the whiskey and none of the treasure on the lose!" She's very quick to say this before the Satyr even has an inkling to agree
Valkea says, "Well if we're getting the whiskey back regardless. And we're getting paid for that. Anything else sounds more like a bonus." Valkea says and hmmms before looking back at the group.
"We're getting it back, he just stated as much. We'd be drinking his stash. As long as one of us abstains we should be fine, they can wake whomever passes out after. and keep the goblins from nicking off with our stuff.""
Shara says, "I'll stay sober. I can always drink later on."
Grush starts back a bit, startled by Sharas yell. It snaps her out o fher bilding fury spiral at least, letting her take a couple of deep breaths. The creature looked just like what she thought a demon would, though it wasn't accompanied by any flames or acrid stench. She grits her teeth angrily, lowering her sword and taking a step back. "I'm sorry if I've acted brashly" she growls quietly, taking a step back "But I want no involvement in its game"
Ilmig finally calms down enough to speak, shaking his head. "Must be too many mugs in already, be makin an offer like that. Ain' none but the Mountain 'n Flame 'n Their kin't can outdrink a khazad... but mebbe ye'll make a good show of it."
"Iiii think my offer stands," says the Satyr to Sarcis with a smile.
He brushes his fingers through his hair and leans back against the table.
A grin at Ilmig follows, though, and he adds, "That's what YOU think. I'd not be so confident. The drinking powers of the Fey are legendary too. You wouldn't be the first overconfident Khazadi I've outdrank. As for the treasure, I'll tell you a tale as we drink! So, who amongst you will be participating? The more the merrier! You wouldn't want to bet all your chacnes on just ONE person, would you?"
Shara says, "I'd say our chances are pretty good, win or lose. It's just a matter of whether we want to get greedy or not. I'm not quite that greedy. I do like music though.""
The bolt is removed by hand from the crossbrow and the trigger pulled while empty. "I'll bite." Valkea volunteers while slinging her weapon back over her shoulder as she heads for the table. The small woman smirking though her eyebrows raise as blue eyes look around cautiously. "Wish me luck." the half-sil says to the group. Hopefully the hangover will be worth it.
Grush sheaths her sword and turns stiffly, walking out of the room to go and lean on the Portcullis. Punching the wall and swearing under her breath
Sarcis raises her hand with a smile, "I'll go for it."
Pulling a rather large flagon from a chest he had sitting against one of the walls, the Satyr picks up the sizable tankards and pours a full mug for each person partticipating. With a smile, he hands them over. "All right. I'll drink first this round. In future rounds, we all drink at the same time." He then downs the first mug. He's just showing you that he's not poisoned them or anything, it seems, out of politeness.
GAME: Sarcis rolls fort: (13)+4: 17
GAME: Valkea rolls fortitude: (3)+4: 7
Ilmig gives the abstainers a nod. Whatever their personal reasons for it, he respects their choice. Even if it means turning down perfectly good drink. He has his own mug ready to be poured when it comes 'round. A sniff, a sip, then gulp after no beard is burnt off.
GAME: Ilmig rolls fort+2: (20)+8+2: 30 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d29+8: (24)+8: 32
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (3)+8: 11
Ilmig lets out a loud belch of complimentary appreciation. "Ain' bad fer grog, but maybe a little weak..."
Well it's not like people really expect even a half-elf to be able to handle a strong drink. And in Valkea's hands, the mug looks huge. Still she does her best and manages to down the whole thing, pausing to breathe a moment before knocking down the grog.
There's a wince when the alcohol after taste hits her and she grins goofily before setting the mug upside down on the table. If only to re-right the mug again to refill on the next turn.
Sarcis slides up to the Saytr, a crinkle of a smile given to him as she sits down next to him, scooting a bit closer to let others sit next to her. A lean over to take her mug, giving a little swirl of the grog as she says with a little hum to her tone, "Down the hatch...?" A grin starts sliding over her lips and she picks it up, drinking it quickly and setting the mug down with a hollow thunk.
Shara chuckles and waves her hand at the Satyr. "Heh. Man. A guy walks into a bar and the bartender says 'Man louie...where've ya been?' the man just sits down and groans. "Sober, that's where I've been."
Granit has arrived.
GAME: Shara rolls perform/comedy: (13)+9: 22
The Satyr just kidna gives Shara a flat look.
"That's your joke? Really?" he asks.
GAME: Sarcis rolls Bluff: (11)+8: 19
Shara chuckles a bit. "Of course it is. I'm just getting warmed up! What? Would you rather have me immediately throw out a zinger, THEN fall flat, Hornball?"
Sarcis lean in close to the Satyr, smiling to him as she pours her own grog up after the bottle is passed to her. "You know, I've heard worse?" She says a soft laugh and then it's moving on to pour Ilmig's drink. She leans over the table, pouring the grog in as she leans away from the Satyr and casts the cantrip to half fill his mug with water as the rest is filled with grog. He /is/ their best chance after all.
While the others plot to reduce the alcohol content in that drink, Miss Sirron just takes her chances with her own rather clearly low tolerance to the grog's effects. Her own drink is poured when the time comes, holding the mug steady in both hands and looking over it to the satyr and the others with glazed eyes and an increasingly goofy expression.
Grush is sitting the the passageway leaning against the wall and reading her small tattered book in the dark.
Granit drinks, no more, no less, than would be polite. He's no stranger to drink, at least.
GAME: Granit rolls fort: (15)+6: 21
GAME: Sarcis rolls fort: (9)+4: 13
GAME: Valkea rolls fort: (18)+4: 22
GAME: Ilmig rolls fort+2: (11)+8+2: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (4)+8: 12
After the next round of drinks is drained, the Satyr burwts out laughing.
"Well, then," he begins. "You're all doing pretty well so far! That's good news. I'm still confident tht *I* shall emerge the victor." He waves his mug, then reaches over to fill it for the third round upcoming.
Valkea has reconnected.
Ilmig makes a face at the taste of his, or lack thereof. That doesn't stop him from belching in courtesy, though it's cut short by a chuckle. "Keep confident, lad, 'n keep drinkin!" Ilmig has his up early in preparation for this round.
Valkea drinks, making sure every drop is gone, luckily she seems to have gotten her liver working well enough and she looks none the worse for wear for the second round, refilling her mug again after righting and thumping it down on the table while empty. While she smiles like it's a victory, a small one at least. The fact that she is affected if not much more shows as her whole face looks bright red.
Granit continues to drink quietly, not doing the talking, just the drinking in a measured manner. He's not trying to prove anything.
Sarcis tips her own back, drinking it down and setting the mug down heavily with a heavy sigh. A tilt of her head as she looks down into the empty vessel for a moment, sort of glazing for a moment. Then she turns to look over at the Satyr. "So says you, but I'm /barely/ even feeling it." Her grin slides along her lips again waiting for the grog bottle to come around again.
GAME: Granit rolls granit: (18)+granit: 18
GAME: Granit rolls fort: (15)+6: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (5)+8: 13
GAME: Valkea rolls fort: (9)+4: 13
GAME: Sarcis rolls fort: (14)+4: 18
GAME: Ilmig rolls fort+2: (11)+8+2: 21
Its a slow process but Valkea is getting closer and closer to wiping herself out. The sound of that Grog being gulped down slowly punctuated after the mug is shown to be empty with an unbidden little belch and a covering of her mouth with both hands in embarrassment and an 'Excuse me' behind those hands. Just lucky her skin can't blush any redder while she gets further toasted.
GAME: Granit rolls fort: (9)+6: 15
GAME: Shara rolls perform/comedy: (5)+9: 14
GAME: Sarcis rolls bluff: (13)+8: 21
Granit keeps drinking slowly, though his pace is starting to flag a little. He looks around for water, dammit.
Ilmig looks over at the sorry and laughs, lifting his mug after its emptied. "Ne'er be pologizin fer drink. Be the nectar of life!"
Shara says, ""You know of Lady Sandiel, right? You know she has to walk sideways to get into doorways, right? So, at her shop, she has an extra wide doorway, just at the hips."
Sarcis downed the third round, a shake of her head as she glances back, "Let's hear another one, Shara!" The Oruch's mouth pulling into a rather amused grin. Shara again tries to hold the Satyr's attention with bad jokes, Sarcis gives a half-hearted laugh, a little sigh where she says the words, her hand flicking off to the side, all a distraction to cover the fact that - as she pours with her right hand - her left creates the water to take up the other half of her mug. Ilmig, after all, was looking fine. She on the other hand was starting to feel it a little.
"You know." Sarcis says as she passes the grog to Ilmig, and then leans back in close to the Satyr, "She really can be quite amusing. In the right circumstances anyway. /Fo-o-o-r instance/, drink enough and she is absolutely hilarious." And with that she crinkles her nose and starts in on her next round of grog.
GAME: Ilmig rolls fort+2: (11)+8+2: 21
GAME: Sarcis rolls fort: (17)+4: 21
GAME: Valkea rolls fort: (17)+4: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10
Laughing uproariously, the Satyr finds that hilarious!
Then he asks: "Who is Lady Sandiel?"
He shr ugs, then pours more alcohol for himself. He's pretty deep in the tanks now, and to be honest, he'd been drinking before you got here. If he hadnb't been, well... his tolerance is a feierce and fearsome thing, that much is certain. When the grog container is passed back to him, he pours once more. This thing never seems to run out of grog. Then he passes it back out again.
"You are not so bad! We will have a good time finding the treasure!"
Huh? (Type "help" for help.)
GAME: Sarcis rolls fort: (4)+4: 8
GAME: Valkea rolls fort: (8)+4: 12
Valkea lets out an ahh sound as the next drink is knocked down easily enough. And not kicking in so quickly so she upends the mug, frowning and grinning at as close to the same time while she checks to see how wobbly she might end up being when she gets back up. At least after all this, being soaked from the swim earlier stopped being annoying. And there might be treasure on top of the payday.
Ilmig eyes the grog container suspiciously. "Ye sure there be enough in there ta finish this?" After the satyr pours his own mug, he chuckles and adds, "Ye sure ye got enough left in ye ta finish this, ol' goat?"
GAME: Ilmig rolls fort+2: (14)+8+2: 24
Celeste has connected.
Sarcis lets out a giggle as she downs her next one and then it's another one shortly there after. Rounds four, and then round five, and she's filling up for round six as she lets out a sigh and says in her - slightly tipsy - tone with a hum cutting into it, "She is a short elf, that is a delight to buy clothing from. Though I fear that Sandy will not stock much in your style." She crinkles her nose, "I don't think she stocks for - erm - digitigrade legs."
Ilmig gulps down his latest mugful, finally taking a moment after to dab at his beard for cleanup. Then he blinks and looks at Sarcis. "Weavers be gradin legs, now? May be this grog is more potent than I knew..." He eyes the mug a moment and then Sarcis again.
Valkea burps again, though by now the blonde half elf really stopped caring about at least table manners. In fact she's thoroughly amused by the sounds she makes. That wobbling getting her almost falling off her seat before she grabs hold of the edge of the table with both hands. "Oookay, now the table is spinning. Isn't grog like meant to be diluted rum or something. Mighta got that ratio backwards!" she slurrs out slowly and peers into her mug. "Maybe I'm a round behind or ahead. Dunno, keep it coming." she says in acknowledgement of the challenge.
Ilmig lifts his mug to Valkea. "Jes keep on hand on yer mug, th'other on the table."
Sarcis looks toward Valkea and gives a mildly amused smile, except for a rather repugnant look and a crinkle of her nose in distaste as she burps. A shake of her head and she looks back toward the Satyr, "So, why don't you tell us why you decided to steal that whiskey anyway?"
"Oh, that's easy. I needed adventurers. Inevitably, he'd send them after the whiskey when a 'bunch of cruel goblins' beat him up. Don't worry about it, though. He owes me about eight hundred pieces of gold anyway, so he sorta deserved it." The goblins are still hiding under teh table.
"'Course," he pours more grod for himself, "that doesn't get to the fun part. TREASURE! Y'see, there's a war brewing, gentlemen. Get it? Brewing? There's a war bvrewing. The Dark Fey have been arming th4emselves for some time, readying to wage...war. Ha. HAhahaha." Slurp.
"The treasure, or what's left of it, will help us."
Valkea grabs the mug and might have actually lost track of which round it is. Still she does pour the next round for herself while the others still drink. If they're still drinking. "So is like you're recruiting or juss looking for folks to procure weapons an' stuff?" Valkea asks, trying to process the explaination from the satyr. And make sure the grog isn't spilled before everyone drinks.
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17
GAME: Valkea rolls fort: (20)+4: 24 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
GAME: Sarcis rolls fort: (2)+4: 6
GAME: Ilmig rolls Fort: (18)+8: 26
Sarcis shakes her head a little bit, downing her next round and... oh damn it all, it's catching up to her as the world takes one slow turn. She closes her eyes for a moment, letting out a long exhale as she forces herself into the present. Keeping her perceptions focused on what she can and stopping the world from it's slow turn. She draws in a breath, then another exhale, as she nods and motions toward Valkea.
"L-l-l-ike she shaid." She nods and licks her lips before looking toward the Satyr, her head turns slowly and her eyes sort of flicker back and forth as everything stays a little fuzzy for her. An arch of her eyebrows and she forces the focus again. "Show-" A pause.
"Ahh," Sarcis starts again, "War. Err, War and you-shed that you need-epons? Errr. /W-w-w-why/ lure-ss?"
That sense of challenge kicks right into drunken determination as Valkea drinks with the others, shaking her head and whipping those two braided pigtails agaout her own face as she tries to keep the liquor from hitting her any harder. The conversation only barely hitting those pointy ears poking out of her hair.
Shara chuckles a bit at all the drunks. "and this is why elves don't drink..."
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL)
Dreaining down the rest of his mug, the Satyr starts to answer before Sarcis says something that makes him start laughing. He tips over in his chair and crashes to the ground, suddenly laughing even harder.
"Treasureeee. Good adventurers love treasure, right? Ahahahha. We split it! Sound good? Yeaaaaah. Shit."
He pulls a set of pipes from his pocket and blows on them.
...Satyrs are renowned for their pipe playing! Just.. not... this one. RIGHT NOW. IT'S AWFUL
GAME: Granit rolls fort: (16)+6: 22
GAME: Granit rolls fort: (2)+6: 8
GAME: Granit rolls fort: (3)+6: 9
Shara says, "worried you might 'break it'?" She then chuckles."
"Toootally winning this thing!" Valkea states at Shara's comment. Maybe if she was all elf she'd be a bit more sensible but she's also half human and a country girl. Can't keep up the haughty elfness non stop. Hair needs to be let down, preferably before you are too drunk to fumble with the leather ties keeping her braids together. Those pipes though, they really are awful enough that it makes Valkea wince and cover her ears in terror.
Sarcis gives another look toward Shara, and frowns before it's back to the Satyr. She lets out a snicker that grows into a giggle and then a laugh at the Satyr tipping, then landing and playing. She continues to laugh before she responds, "No way!! You said we get it not split it! Hah!!"
Granit squints, eyes bleary. He sits back. boneless, staring agog at the horribleness of the music. "Thash fucking terrible."
"Oh, you get to keep it," he says, laughing.
And then he passes out. You're gonna need him to wake up first to find out about this 'treasure'.
Shara stares at the satyr. "Typical Satyr. Drinks until he passes out."
Granit points an accusatory finger at the satyr. "Thaaaaat bastard." He enunciates as clearly as he can. "He can't get away wish that."
Sarcis starts to giggle and looks around with a heavy sweay, "Quick! QUICK! Whosh got ink?! Lesh wr-r-r-ite Dork on'im!"
(New BB message (3/107) posted to 'Plot Announcements' by Whirlpool: Normal Day Totally Part 3 (CLOSED))
Sarcis knocks over her chair and scampers over toward the fire, giggling like an idiot as she digs out a bit of cold charcoal from near the fire before stumbling back over. She sticks her tongue out from the corner of her mouth and writes "DURC" Then crosses it out, followed by "DORK" on the Satyr's forehead. "Wosh'ext?!"