As you approach the quaint and unassuming tavern along a once forgotten road, you immediately notice the resplendent Platinum Penguin adorning the sign. What marginal signs that conflict may have once occurred here have been lovingly patched over, leaving only an idyllic setting nestled amongst the forest.
Your fingers touch the smooth wood of the tavern door and you feel a wave of belonging wash over you. You feel no resistance as you push against the door, the latch smoothly gliding out of it's seat and almost causing you to fall through the threshold. A dozen sets of eyes fall on you as you enter, and crease with smiles as they all raise their glasses and call out a unified "Cheers!"
Behind the bar stands a penguin with an ornate necklace of crystals, who's welcoming smile abates your curiosity of how they came to be in the middle of a forest in Faerûn. They quickly make an arcane gesture, performed with an efficient grace suggesting it has become second nature. A glow, faintly dancing with a full prism of color, emanates from their hands as you feel your mind being tied to others in this place.
 | "Don't worry, hon. Just including you in our Telepathic Bond. You did accept the Terms and Conditions on entering!" she laughs. |
You approach the weathered door of a tavern, nestled within the trees beside the road you've followed for the past several days Your legs feel weary after your long journey. From the side of the building, suspended by tarnished chains, an aged sign prominently featuring a golden griffin speaks this taverns namesake. The sign gently creaks as it swings back and forth, adding a rhythmic melody to the discordant sound of conversation and raucous laughter muffled through the thick scarred wooden door before you. The deep gouges around the handle suggest this establishment has seen it's share of adventurers and not all of them of a kindly disposition.
As you grasp the metal handle and push the heavy door inward, the sound abruptly ceases as all of the patrons inside stop their conversation and turn towards you. At least two dozen sets of eyes evaluate you from sole to crown, though you notice a few scarred patrons with an uneven number of eyeballs.
After a moment's consideration, they seem to collectively determine you not to be a threat and return to their own business. You slink past the tables of varying heights towards the bar, where the proprietor glares suspiciously at you around an impressively bushy beard. Their skin is as weathered as the outside of the tavern itself, deep lines converging at the corners of the sharp eyes that pierce through you. Their voice is as rough as the stale ale spilled across the floor smells, but it cuts distinctly through the din inside the room and carries decades of experience dealing with all manner of adventurer.
 | Innkeeper: "I assume you've got coin? Or you're able bodied enough to earn some? Otherwise you can exit the same way you entered, or through a window. But you'll pay for any broken windows." |
{{This tavern exists apart from the individual campaigns and journeys your character may undertake in life. It is intended to serve as a place all can converse and scratch their role-play itch, whether or not they are an active participant in a specific campaign. If you would like a space to help develop your character, meet some like-minded individuals, or just have fun cracking jokes, you are welcome to do so here. This thread will not explicitly require that you speak in character, and we welcome out-of-character discussion or thoughts about on-going campaigns or about the game of Dungeons & Dragons in general.}}
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TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
The door swings back open and yet another strange creature enters the tavern. Not one that has been seen before, it seems to resemble the Tortle race but is snuggly fit into some attire. Not typical of that of a Tortle. As he hobbles in, he gently closes the door behind him as his Tortle shell becomes apparent. He has a backpack over one shoulder, a boomerang tucked into this odd clothing, and appears to be holding a lute in his left hand. He seems to be smoking a cylinder shape of some kind.
He hobbles around the tavern, not yet entering conversation with anyone. He looks around and sees an empty table in the corner with five empty chairs. He slowly walks over to the table, places his backpack atop, pulls out the largest chair, and takes a seat.
He pulls out his lute, fidgeting with it and strumming it ever so lightly as to not disrupt those around him.
He seems to be waiting... for something.
He hobbles around the tavern, not yet entering conversation with anyone. He looks around and sees an empty table in the corner with five empty chairs. He slowly walks over to the table, places his backpack atop, pulls out the largest chair, and takes a seat.
He pulls out his lute, fidgeting with it and strumming it ever so lightly as to not disrupt those around him.
He seems to be waiting... for something.
It had been a long time since he had been on the mainland. The island he called called home for the last 50 years, is practically inaccessible, even by boat. But here he was.
As he enters the tavern, he notices Tortle Dude in the corner. It was nice to see a familiar face. Tortle Dude would often visit him on the island, but what brought him here? It must be something important.
As he makes his way to Tortle Dude, Kutshort surveys the other patrons to try to determine if any of them are a threat, and who was the mysterious individual who summoned them to this bar
As he enters the tavern, he notices Tortle Dude in the corner. It was nice to see a familiar face. Tortle Dude would often visit him on the island, but what brought him here? It must be something important.
As he makes his way to Tortle Dude, Kutshort surveys the other patrons to try to determine if any of them are a threat, and who was the mysterious individual who summoned them to this bar
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
Tortle Dude looks up and notices Kutshort. A gentle smirk crosses his tortley face for a moment until he realizes Kutshort's demeanor. Is it caution? Is it paranoia? Did Tortle Dude mindlessly wander into a trap?
Tortle Dude has a propensity to not think things through and gets a little reckless. He makes eye contact with Kutshort. His right arm lowers, slowly but firmly gripping his boomerang.
Maybe it will be needed much sooner than he hoped, but he waits to watch what the highly alert Kutshort notices...
Tortle Dude has a propensity to not think things through and gets a little reckless. He makes eye contact with Kutshort. His right arm lowers, slowly but firmly gripping his boomerang.
Maybe it will be needed much sooner than he hoped, but he waits to watch what the highly alert Kutshort notices...
Short Order notices the two newcomers stroll into the tavern separately, but seemingly already to know eachother. He quickly notices the craftsmanship that's gone into the artificial legs one of them has, wondering if one of his kin had been involved. He wouldn't know for sure, having left his home years before.
It seems as though something might be happening soon, but he sits on his stool across the room waiting to see if there's a reason for him to join in. He saves coin by fermenting his own drink, but still joins in on the occasional quest to find something new. He's a good judge of character, and these two seem likely to have something good on their minds...
It seems as though something might be happening soon, but he sits on his stool across the room waiting to see if there's a reason for him to join in. He saves coin by fermenting his own drink, but still joins in on the occasional quest to find something new. He's a good judge of character, and these two seem likely to have something good on their minds...
Tommy Boy
noob cannon
Tronte Berrywood stumbles into the tavern. After looking around for only a short while, he had realized how confused he was, and felt nervous to set off on an adventure.
"Woah", said Tronte. "There are a lot of people who are really good at talking or emoting already. Why do I feel like I am eons behind in understanding what to do here?"
Tronte sits at an open table and pulls out some papers scrawled with many notes. He is not really looking to converse with anyone yet, but is keeping an open ear.
"Woah", said Tronte. "There are a lot of people who are really good at talking or emoting already. Why do I feel like I am eons behind in understanding what to do here?"
Tronte sits at an open table and pulls out some papers scrawled with many notes. He is not really looking to converse with anyone yet, but is keeping an open ear.
Tuberius had spent the past day and a half scouting the taverns location and surrounds. Having grown up far from here and very much a loner a direct invitation to visit this particular tavern raised suspicion. Nothing had seemed amiss so he approached with caution thankful for the rare opportunity to enjoy an ale and a meal cooked by someone else.
At a hulking 8-foot and accompanied by his companion kangaroo, Smudge, Tuberius was often somewhat of a circus attraction. He was therefore unsurprised with the glaring eyes when he stooped his way through the tavern door. He was surprised however that a number of the patrons directly met his eyes, this in itself was unusual with most past interactions resulting in furtive glances and mutterings about his pure size.
He noticed one of those looking him in the eyes was a Tortle strumming at a lute at a table in the corner. There were spare seats and while Tuberius was wary of this individual, he was also weary and planned to take one of the spare seats after purchasing an ale from the tavern-keeper.
At a hulking 8-foot and accompanied by his companion kangaroo, Smudge, Tuberius was often somewhat of a circus attraction. He was therefore unsurprised with the glaring eyes when he stooped his way through the tavern door. He was surprised however that a number of the patrons directly met his eyes, this in itself was unusual with most past interactions resulting in furtive glances and mutterings about his pure size.
He noticed one of those looking him in the eyes was a Tortle strumming at a lute at a table in the corner. There were spare seats and while Tuberius was wary of this individual, he was also weary and planned to take one of the spare seats after purchasing an ale from the tavern-keeper.
As Zesty looks around the bar sizing up the crowd within, the Barkeep stares at Zesty, wiping dry a tankard freshly washed with a towel that had seen better days.
Zesty: "Aye, coin I've got. Ale, if you wouldn't mind, barkeep?"
Gently placing a couple coins on the bar, the Barkeep fills the freshly cleaned tankard with ale from the nearby cask. Then, as he tosses the towel over his shoulder, he places the tankard in front of Zesty.
Zesty: "I'm also looking to earn some coin, friend. Know of any patrons setting forth soon that may have need of another able bodied individual?"
Zesty slouches back down onto the barstool, awaiting any information the barkeep can put forth. The time for relaxation may soon come to a close, and being ready is what the artificer does best.
Zesty: "Aye, coin I've got. Ale, if you wouldn't mind, barkeep?"
Gently placing a couple coins on the bar, the Barkeep fills the freshly cleaned tankard with ale from the nearby cask. Then, as he tosses the towel over his shoulder, he places the tankard in front of Zesty.
Zesty: "I'm also looking to earn some coin, friend. Know of any patrons setting forth soon that may have need of another able bodied individual?"
Zesty slouches back down onto the barstool, awaiting any information the barkeep can put forth. The time for relaxation may soon come to a close, and being ready is what the artificer does best.
Short Order approaches Tronte.
"You seem lost" he said to the man. "Are you sure you're up for this? A few people also seem new to town, but an interesting crew seems to be forming. Would you like a drink, or perhaps a bite of this apple?"
Short Order sneakily hits the apple with his hammer, hoping the barkeep won't notice
edit: oh shit a nat 20 lmao. guess that apple is all boozy for you @Tommy Boy
"You seem lost" he said to the man. "Are you sure you're up for this? A few people also seem new to town, but an interesting crew seems to be forming. Would you like a drink, or perhaps a bite of this apple?"
Short Order sneakily hits the apple with his hammer, hoping the barkeep won't notice
edit: oh shit a nat 20 lmao. guess that apple is all boozy for you @Tommy Boy
OP
{{As I said in the other thread, I wasn't expecting you guys to need to roll skill checks in the taverns. This is just a spot to get into character and talk to the other players, yadda yadda. But... I want an excuse to post this image...}}
Gazing around at the menagerie of drunken beings occupying seats around the tavern, you quickly discern that none of them care to pay you much regard. Everyone is nursing their chosen beverage and only appear to have looked up upon your entrance because you let in a cold draft. This is a little surprising, considering you're standing next to an enormous turtle who seems to be off their rocker from smoking some kind of Efreeti-lettuce.
For someone who appears to be fairly perceptive, somehow the human rogue doesn't notice your approach, nor the fact that an oddly yeasty smelling apple has appeared next to the a papers they were examining. You do notice that the barkeep is becoming somewhat suspicious of your drunken demeanor in spite of your lack of patronage.
{{Up to Tommy whether he eats the apple or not, your magical hammer doesn't force things into people's mouths, but he's at least got a Booze Apple to add to his inventory if he wants.}}
A halfing woman burst through the door excitly and uncaring of any eyes that may have turned to look in her direction. She surveys the tavern, and takes a big sniff of the air.
"Is that beef stew, I smell?" She says as she walks very briskly straight at the bartender. "It needs more pepper!"
She stops her approach when she walks past a table with a human and a gnome that has just put an apple on the table. Looking the human over he looks nauseous to her. "Oh no, is he not feeling well? When was the last time he ate? You really shouldn't let your sugars get that low. Oh dear. Would you just kindly eat the apple. You'll feel much better."
Cookie casts Command on Tronte. He needs to do a wisdom saving throw and beat my spell DC of 13.
Ben can't make @Tommy Boy eat the apple, but I can...for his own good of course.
"Is that beef stew, I smell?" She says as she walks very briskly straight at the bartender. "It needs more pepper!"
She stops her approach when she walks past a table with a human and a gnome that has just put an apple on the table. Looking the human over he looks nauseous to her. "Oh no, is he not feeling well? When was the last time he ate? You really shouldn't let your sugars get that low. Oh dear. Would you just kindly eat the apple. You'll feel much better."
Cookie casts Command on Tronte. He needs to do a wisdom saving throw and beat my spell DC of 13.
Ben can't make @Tommy Boy eat the apple, but I can...for his own good of course.
OP
The tavern's yearly supply of apples has accidentally been delivered to the front entrance rather than to the merchant door in the rear. Oops. The bartender has yet to notice the enormous basket of fruit swaying through the crowd, as they're occupied trying to work out how to change the yearly calendar someone carved into a wall.
{{It's New Year's, I guess enjoy yourselves. Still gonna make Tommy roll on whether or not he gets pier-pressured by a baker, though.}}
The door to the tavern creaks open and a small, black, bird-like creature enters. He's wearing leather armor and a cowboy hat, with a large pack of gear on his back and a lute hanging from a strap across his chest. He wearily makes his way to the bar, exchanging a few cautious glances with the other patrons from below the brim of his hat, but generally tries to avoid eye contact. He takes a stool at the end of the bar and addresses the bartender.
"Quite the busy night here. Room and a meal if you don't mind", he says, dropping some coin and making himself comfortable.
Nootie places his pack on the floor next to him and starts to tune his lute, but is surprised to hear the strum of another instrument. He turns to see the large turtle creature at a nearby table.
"Oh, do you already have entertainment for the night?"
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The torrent of recent arrivals to the tavern and the burstings-open of doors that accompany them have roused Moonsprout Beandirt into consciousness. He is laying next to the door on the cold cobblestone floor of the tavern's mudroom, a location he chose for his nap due to its cool and uneven stones, which dig into his back at uncomfortable and awkward angles and "helps align his 'chi'" -- so he claims -- but also because of the small critters he's befriended which scurry through this unlit area of the tavern.
Moonsprout's eyes adjust to the light of the main area of the tavern, and the poorly-defined figures he sees start to become more clear. He is amazed to see a gigantic marsupial, much larger than he had ever seen before, and what more -- nearby is a large (and well-dressed!) bi-pedal turtle creature.
"Dang, they're huge. I bet having friends that big would help me with lots of stuff, like boosting me into trees I want to climb and probably also like some other things I can't think of right now.
I wonder if I can treat that turtle-guy to a head of lettuce or something."
Moonsprout's eyes adjust to the light of the main area of the tavern, and the poorly-defined figures he sees start to become more clear. He is amazed to see a gigantic marsupial, much larger than he had ever seen before, and what more -- nearby is a large (and well-dressed!) bi-pedal turtle creature.
"Dang, they're huge. I bet having friends that big would help me with lots of stuff, like boosting me into trees I want to climb and probably also like some other things I can't think of right now.
I wonder if I can treat that turtle-guy to a head of lettuce or something."
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
The ever so silent Tortle silently watches adventurer after adventurer pile into the Taven. The commotion over the apple, the constant gust of wind as the door continually swings open, a tiny creature smacking that apple while they all wait to see if it's eaten, and perhaps most curious to him - the amount of eyes that have shifted toward but a humble Tortle.
The Tortle reaches into his shell and he pulls out a sword, decent in length it is but it has a unique glow. A special kind of shimmer that shows it's no ordinary sword, it catches the attention of the tiny one in the corner. He places the sword on the table as gently as possible but the clanging metal is enough to draw the attention of those not already eying the Tortle.
He realizes, perhaps it's time to introduce himself. The tortle raises to his feet, places one foot on the chair he once had, and he lifts his voice. A raspy yet soothing voice escapes from his mouth as the Tortle strums the lute a little louder.
"There's confusion and chaos,
There's some apples and beer,
New face after new face,
Our new adventurers are here.
Some of you have looked,
Some of you know me well,
But the most obvious thing,
I'm wearing clothing and a shell.
A roo may be tasty, but not for me,
That lovely creature, why would I eat,
I drink and I snack on simple things,
Apples, lettuce, maybe ale made of wheat.
I see those helping others,
a lovely apple one may eat,
fears that it might be poison,
yet no one has taken a seat.
You may not know my name,
I never meant to be rude,
I won't bite if you join me,
But folks, I'm Tortle Dude."
The group of tavern patrons and adventurers alike had grown silent watching the Tortle strum his lute. His voice is unlike any they have heard. It's soothing, it's relaxing, it's a bit deep with a slight crackle. Perhaps the adventurers will trust him, perhaps not.
Tortle Dude lifts the unique sword off the table and slides it back into his shell. He lowers the lute and takes a puff. He gives the four empty chairs a gentle shove outward.
Tortle Dude sits, he watches, and he waits.
The Tortle reaches into his shell and he pulls out a sword, decent in length it is but it has a unique glow. A special kind of shimmer that shows it's no ordinary sword, it catches the attention of the tiny one in the corner. He places the sword on the table as gently as possible but the clanging metal is enough to draw the attention of those not already eying the Tortle.
He realizes, perhaps it's time to introduce himself. The tortle raises to his feet, places one foot on the chair he once had, and he lifts his voice. A raspy yet soothing voice escapes from his mouth as the Tortle strums the lute a little louder.
"There's confusion and chaos,
There's some apples and beer,
New face after new face,
Our new adventurers are here.
Some of you have looked,
Some of you know me well,
But the most obvious thing,
I'm wearing clothing and a shell.
A roo may be tasty, but not for me,
That lovely creature, why would I eat,
I drink and I snack on simple things,
Apples, lettuce, maybe ale made of wheat.
I see those helping others,
a lovely apple one may eat,
fears that it might be poison,
yet no one has taken a seat.
You may not know my name,
I never meant to be rude,
I won't bite if you join me,
But folks, I'm Tortle Dude."
The group of tavern patrons and adventurers alike had grown silent watching the Tortle strum his lute. His voice is unlike any they have heard. It's soothing, it's relaxing, it's a bit deep with a slight crackle. Perhaps the adventurers will trust him, perhaps not.
Tortle Dude lifts the unique sword off the table and slides it back into his shell. He lowers the lute and takes a puff. He gives the four empty chairs a gentle shove outward.
Tortle Dude sits, he watches, and he waits.
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Content that it isn’t a trap, Kutshort makes his way to Tortle Dude and embraces him as an old friend.
I see you still sing about your immediate surroundings. Maybe a few pints will improve the way it sounds
Kutshort sets down two pints on the table next to Tortle Dude and with a wink says
I’ve yet to decide if I need the pints or you
I see you still sing about your immediate surroundings. Maybe a few pints will improve the way it sounds
Kutshort sets down two pints on the table next to Tortle Dude and with a wink says
I’ve yet to decide if I need the pints or you
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
Tortle Dude smirks and lets out a huff. It resembles maybe a chuckle or even annoyance. Perhaps Kutshort is perceptive enough to tell.
"It's been some time since I last saw you on your island Kutshort. It's been some time since I've seen you at all, yet you haven't changed one bit. It's good to see a familiar face.
Now as for the pints, you may consider them for yourself with what's to come. Better yet, you may consider that two is not nearly enough.
However, should you stumble upon some Efreeti-lettuce, that may be more of my need at this time."
"It's been some time since I last saw you on your island Kutshort. It's been some time since I've seen you at all, yet you haven't changed one bit. It's good to see a familiar face.
Now as for the pints, you may consider them for yourself with what's to come. Better yet, you may consider that two is not nearly enough.
However, should you stumble upon some Efreeti-lettuce, that may be more of my need at this time."
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OP
You suddenly develop tinnitus, the ringing in your ear seemingly collective as every other new adventurer in this tavern also begin to shake their heads or wiggle a pinky finger in their ear holes. After a few moments, the high pitched squeal begins wavering in frequency until you can almost discern words in your primary language.
 | Dungeon Master: "Kindly keep your mitts off of bold green text unless you're explicitly choosing to take an action within these Nine Realms. Picking a color for your dialog is fine, but these are the colors ordained by the Creator. Also, it should be noted that roleplay/actions can only control your character specifically. This includes NPC characters as well, as their souls are of my domain. Even in 'trivial' interactions, you cannot influence the machinations of fate, without first making a request of the dice gods. Furthermore, dice should not be thrown on a whim. You may invoke the wrong fate by rolling something unrelated to the actual situation. Rather, you must state your intention with the mystical bold green words and await guidance as to what facet of your skills is applicable. Remember, you express your desire to perform an action, but whether it requires a die be rolled and with which proficiency it employs is beyond your purvey." |
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
OP
From the darkest corner of the tavern, two blazing eyes transfix on you, seeming to sense how badly you're jonesing for green. An Efreeti merchant slides from behind a table and drifts nonchalantly through the crowd to your side.
 | Efreeti: "So, friend... You seem to be out of salad..? I have the leaves if you can part with the croutons. " |
You get the impression this could cost you more than just coins from your pocket.
 | DM: "Roll a skill check for persuasion with disadvantage (because you're strung out.)" |
{{ @TD, This means you roll twice and need to take the lowest roll. That prior roll you made doesn't count because I didn't direct it.}}
{{ @Tommy Boy, you'd need to make a Wisdom saving throw. Just click here.
.}}
Can Kutshort interject and try to get his buddy a good deal?
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
Tortle Dude gazes deep into the eye of the Efreeti that stands across from him. A little nervous at the cost.From the darkest corner of the tavern, two blazing eyes transfix on you, seeming to sense how badly you're jonesing for green. An Efreeti merchant slides from behind a table and drifts nonchalantly through the crowd to your side.
Efreeti: "So, friend... You seem to be out of salad..? I have the leaves if you can part with the croutons. "
You get the impression this could cost you more than just coins from your pocket.
DM: "Roll a skill check for persuasion with disadvantage (because you're strung out.)"
{{ @TD, This means you roll twice and need to take the lowest roll. That prior roll you made doesn't count because I didn't direct it.}}
Tortle Dude can't help but wonder if he's made a mistake, or maybe a brave ally will come to his rescue.
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@Ben this was a serious request. How would we go about doing something like this during the campaign?
OP
{{Not this time. Filburt got himself into this before you could open your mouth.}}
Your heart (wherever it's located within your shell) drops as the flames of capitalism rage within the eyes of the extra-planar being. They smirk as from within their robes they produce a large head of lettuce, which admittedly smells dank as the Nine Hells. As your clawed hand touches the crisp leaves, a flash of red light momentarily blinds you before fading with a faint "fwoom" sound.
The Efreeti stands before you grinning, now clothed in your fancy business suit. They wink a gleeful eye at you before their shape swirls and folds in on itself, then vanishes with a puff of smoke and the lingering smell of brimstone. You feel cold, and if you possessed nipples they would probably be able to cut glass, but at least you have some more greenery to burn.
{{This is honestly so I don't have to put so much effort into making your character wear a business suit in every image I feel like making. Call it DM discretion.
@shortkut You did it more or less correctly, though you'd need to make your help action in the magical bold green script to actually count as trying something. But in general if you state you're trying to help another player, you can give them an advantage on their roll, which could cancel out a disadvantage they have to just make it a normal roll.}}
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
Tortle Dude lets out a brief shudder while using his tortle size mitts to rub some warmth into his now bare body.
"Kutshort, my shell is part of who I am. I am now one with nature, the natural state of my people. It's a tad chilly now, but I will find a way to manage. These leaves will help warm my innards and numb part of this loss. Perhaps in our travels, we may stumble upon a Tailor who can make some arrangements."
Tommy Boy
noob cannon
Tuberius turned from the bar, having secured a large bucket of amber ale. Flummoxed he saw the tortle who had been playing the lute had exchanged his clothes with an Efreeti for some of that sweet sticky icky.
He felt a deep despair for the tortle as he stood before them all, nude as the day he hatched, but couldn't help but think mayhaps it was the tortle's own fault for trying to purchase weed in an establishment of such high repute. Alas, he trudged across the room towards the tortle passing a rogue with ornate hand crafted feet on his way.
"Mate, I couldn't help but notice that that cobber took your suit. I'm all for a toke of the leafy didgeridoo here and there but perhaps in an establishment this fine we are better to follow their laws.
If you like I have some of my old shorts, they've seen better days but perhaps they can cover up your twig and berries? Protect your dignity and not offend any of these fine patrons, hey mate?"
Tuberius pulls an old, worn pair of hessian shorts from his bag and places them on the table for the tortle.
{{ @Ben is there a roll I need to do to successfully offer TD some dignity? }}
He felt a deep despair for the tortle as he stood before them all, nude as the day he hatched, but couldn't help but think mayhaps it was the tortle's own fault for trying to purchase weed in an establishment of such high repute. Alas, he trudged across the room towards the tortle passing a rogue with ornate hand crafted feet on his way.
"Mate, I couldn't help but notice that that cobber took your suit. I'm all for a toke of the leafy didgeridoo here and there but perhaps in an establishment this fine we are better to follow their laws.
If you like I have some of my old shorts, they've seen better days but perhaps they can cover up your twig and berries? Protect your dignity and not offend any of these fine patrons, hey mate?"
Tuberius pulls an old, worn pair of hessian shorts from his bag and places them on the table for the tortle.
{{ @Ben is there a roll I need to do to successfully offer TD some dignity? }}
{{not sure that’s possible
}}
OP
{{Nah, you can trade items freely amongst party members, if you're within like 5 feet of each other. If you were at a distance and needed to throw the item then DEX rolls might be needed to see if you throw it well and they catch, etc.
But I'm pretty sure Yurtle has a cloaca, so not overly indecent.}}
As Tortle Dude finishes his song, Nootie claps politely, then turns back to face the bar until the business with the Efreeti occurs in the corner of his eye. His eyes widen, and he starts rifling through his gear. Perhaps this town was more dangerous than he thought. He pulls out his crossbow, pretending to inspect it as to not draw suspicion, and continues searching for bolts. To his surprise, he finds none left, and begins to grow nervous. He checks his body and finds his dagger still stashed safely, and breathes a sigh of relief.
He notices the tiefling glancing at him during his brief panic from another barstool, and decides to speak up.
"Hey mister, you a regular here? Is this place always this crazy?"
He notices the tiefling glancing at him during his brief panic from another barstool, and decides to speak up.
"Hey mister, you a regular here? Is this place always this crazy?"
Cookie looks at the human not eating the apple in that way that mothers do to unruly children.
"So you're not hungry? How about some water?"
She grabs a nearby tankard and drumps the contents on the floor. She sets it on the table and proceeds to wave her hands above the glass making what looks like gang signs and says low under her breath, "make it rain".(casts create water) The glass fills up with water and she slides it across the table. She then pulls a small round pastry out of her pack and sets it on the table in front of her. She stares at the human with the exception that he will drink this water and if he does she will let him the cookie.
"So you're not hungry? How about some water?"
She grabs a nearby tankard and drumps the contents on the floor. She sets it on the table and proceeds to wave her hands above the glass making what looks like gang signs and says low under her breath, "make it rain".(casts create water) The glass fills up with water and she slides it across the table. She then pulls a small round pastry out of her pack and sets it on the table in front of her. She stares at the human with the exception that he will drink this water and if he does she will let him the cookie.
Watching everything occurring around him, Zesty can hardy believe the shenanigans. He takes another sip of his ale and sighs.
He turns to the barkeep and asks, "Is it always this... weird... in here?"
Zesty returns to his ale, waiting for any news on the campaign with bated breath and a reason to leave this bar.
He turns to the barkeep and asks, "Is it always this... weird... in here?"
Zesty returns to his ale, waiting for any news on the campaign with bated breath and a reason to leave this bar.
Having not been specifically told there isn't more lettuce in the bar somewhere, Moonsprout Beandirt palms a head into his satchel while the patrons of the bar are transfixed on the strange display by the singing turtle. Having acquired the head of lettuce he so desired, but also having forgotten the purpose for which he acquired it, he takes a bite of it and nestles back down by the doorway and begins feeding it to the scurrying critters.
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TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
So there Tortle Dude sat, his suit gone. He glances at Kutshort and the newly introduced Tuberius. He lets out a sigh as he finishes his lettuce. He pounds back the the ale offered by his long lost friend Kutshort. He looks up at Tuberious.
"I appreciate the offer. But please don't trouble yourself, something tells me that something will happen. For see, let me tell you the story of how I acquired that suit. If you so choose, you may grab a seat now or after. Or after you hear, you may choose to depart."
Tortle Dude clears the proverbial frog in his throat. He gently plays his lute, not in rhythym of a song - but just that to ease his mood.
"You see, when I was a young Tortle, life wasn't easy. My family and I needed to get by. We took whatever work we could find. We were far away from our home in Chult, trying to do big and exciting things. We finally landed somewhere that no one wants to be.
You see, in a busy town of dwarves, elves, humans, and more, there are also many animsls. Horses, cows, dogs, cats, even enormous birds. You know what animals do? They shit. Then their entitled tyrant of a leader and his army would step in it. They'd cuss, they'd flail, I even saw one or two fall and spill their ale.
So what does this have to do with my family? Well, someone has to get rid of the shit."
Tortle Dude pauses, takes a deep breath, and fidgets with the edge of the table.
"You see, I come from a family of shit shovelers. It's not good work, but it's work that some peasant has to do so the esteemed royalty doesn't smell like they shit themselves.
Now my suit - I saved up for that suit. Every pile of horse shit I turned in got me a copper, then another, and another. Until I finally saved enough for it. I was done with shoveling other's shit. My Grandtorty was so proud of me.
Moving up in the world, no longer shoveling shit, looking clean and proper, and doing what I love - entertaining. But now that suit is gone. I have my lute, but what do I celebrate?
Before I left, my Grandtorty gave me the sword I pulled out earlier. It's been in the family for many generations. I'm not one for close quarters combat, but it helped him through some tough times. It's not like any sword I've ever seen. Maybe someone can tell me something about it, but given what just happened it's best I keep it to myself.
All he shared with me was, when you get too deep in the shit, the blade will show you the way. Still not sure what he meant by that.
But alas, please do not pity me. Do not worry for that of my dignity, for I have been lower than I am now. Perhaps one day I'll have a new and better suit.
For now. I invite you Tuberius to join us. In fact, anyone is welcome. Assuming you're not shy being around one of my kind in their natural state."
Tortle Dude kicks out the empty chairs, making them easier to sit in.
"I appreciate the offer. But please don't trouble yourself, something tells me that something will happen. For see, let me tell you the story of how I acquired that suit. If you so choose, you may grab a seat now or after. Or after you hear, you may choose to depart."
Tortle Dude clears the proverbial frog in his throat. He gently plays his lute, not in rhythym of a song - but just that to ease his mood.
"You see, when I was a young Tortle, life wasn't easy. My family and I needed to get by. We took whatever work we could find. We were far away from our home in Chult, trying to do big and exciting things. We finally landed somewhere that no one wants to be.
You see, in a busy town of dwarves, elves, humans, and more, there are also many animsls. Horses, cows, dogs, cats, even enormous birds. You know what animals do? They shit. Then their entitled tyrant of a leader and his army would step in it. They'd cuss, they'd flail, I even saw one or two fall and spill their ale.
So what does this have to do with my family? Well, someone has to get rid of the shit."
Tortle Dude pauses, takes a deep breath, and fidgets with the edge of the table.
"You see, I come from a family of shit shovelers. It's not good work, but it's work that some peasant has to do so the esteemed royalty doesn't smell like they shit themselves.
Now my suit - I saved up for that suit. Every pile of horse shit I turned in got me a copper, then another, and another. Until I finally saved enough for it. I was done with shoveling other's shit. My Grandtorty was so proud of me.
Moving up in the world, no longer shoveling shit, looking clean and proper, and doing what I love - entertaining. But now that suit is gone. I have my lute, but what do I celebrate?
Before I left, my Grandtorty gave me the sword I pulled out earlier. It's been in the family for many generations. I'm not one for close quarters combat, but it helped him through some tough times. It's not like any sword I've ever seen. Maybe someone can tell me something about it, but given what just happened it's best I keep it to myself.
All he shared with me was, when you get too deep in the shit, the blade will show you the way. Still not sure what he meant by that.
But alas, please do not pity me. Do not worry for that of my dignity, for I have been lower than I am now. Perhaps one day I'll have a new and better suit.
For now. I invite you Tuberius to join us. In fact, anyone is welcome. Assuming you're not shy being around one of my kind in their natural state."
Tortle Dude kicks out the empty chairs, making them easier to sit in.
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Nootie, Zesty and the barkeep all stared at each other expectantly for several minutes in a catatonic state before the squealing of chairs across the floor freed Nootie from his trance. He grabs his things and waddles over to the tortle's table. As he approaches, he nods and gives a tip of his hat to the more human-y types sitting with him, and desperately tries to avoid looking in the direction of Tortle's pelvic region as he addresses him. (This proves to be quite difficult considering the height differences.)
"Hey fellers, do you uhh need some clothes or something to cover up with?" he asks, placing his backpack on one of the open chairs. He somehow manages to pull a whole ass drum out of it. "My outfits probably won't fit, but maybe you could just kinda.. place this in front of your turtley bits for now? You seem the musical type like myself, so maybe no one will notice", he continues, chuckling a bit.
"Hey fellers, do you uhh need some clothes or something to cover up with?" he asks, placing his backpack on one of the open chairs. He somehow manages to pull a whole ass drum out of it. "My outfits probably won't fit, but maybe you could just kinda.. place this in front of your turtley bits for now? You seem the musical type like myself, so maybe no one will notice", he continues, chuckling a bit.
Tuberius took a seat at the table, while Smudge darted outside to begin his evening patrol. He was surprised and somewhat uncomfortable that the tortle had decided to remain nude. While Tuberius was not a prude, he was certain that laws against indecency would likely be enforced sooner rather than later.
Tuberius was not the type to trust people easily, in fact he only really trusted one other being and that was Smudge. Their communication was only one-way though so even that left Tuberius a loner in his own thoughts. He watched the eclectic bunch giving this tavern their patronage that night and noted that there was no other rangers. While he was hesitant to trust anyone and not the type to lead a quest, perhaps this group would need him to help them navigate their way through danger. While he was young for a firbolg, he was still just passed his 75th nameday so had experienced many things that the others had likely never seen before. He thought how the bards, charismatic as they were, would be particularly unsuited to a quest without a guide.
Very little in Tuberius' immediate surroundings was missed by his gazing eyes and while his sheltered upbringing did let him down when it came to fully understanding people and their intentions generally his perception of their overall make-up was correct. He'd had noted, for example, another bard pilfering a head of lettuce before returning to the doorway. There was also a Tiefling at the bar who was taking in all his surroundings in a way that made Tuberius wary of his intentions. More immediately though another bard, this one bird-like, had approached their table and also offered the tortle some modesty. This was an approach that Tuberius appreciated and so he struck up a conversation.
"I tried that he doesn't want the clothes.... say mate that fella sitting at the bar, the Tiefling, are you part of his troupe? I noticed you seemed to catch eyes with each other before you headed over here."
Tuberius was not the type to trust people easily, in fact he only really trusted one other being and that was Smudge. Their communication was only one-way though so even that left Tuberius a loner in his own thoughts. He watched the eclectic bunch giving this tavern their patronage that night and noted that there was no other rangers. While he was hesitant to trust anyone and not the type to lead a quest, perhaps this group would need him to help them navigate their way through danger. While he was young for a firbolg, he was still just passed his 75th nameday so had experienced many things that the others had likely never seen before. He thought how the bards, charismatic as they were, would be particularly unsuited to a quest without a guide.
Very little in Tuberius' immediate surroundings was missed by his gazing eyes and while his sheltered upbringing did let him down when it came to fully understanding people and their intentions generally his perception of their overall make-up was correct. He'd had noted, for example, another bard pilfering a head of lettuce before returning to the doorway. There was also a Tiefling at the bar who was taking in all his surroundings in a way that made Tuberius wary of his intentions. More immediately though another bard, this one bird-like, had approached their table and also offered the tortle some modesty. This was an approach that Tuberius appreciated and so he struck up a conversation.
"I tried that he doesn't want the clothes.... say mate that fella sitting at the bar, the Tiefling, are you part of his troupe? I noticed you seemed to catch eyes with each other before you headed over here."
Nootie gives a puzzled glance at the tortle and sets the drum in front of him anyway for his own sake.
"Oh, him? Nah, I don't know 'im. Don't know anyone yet for that matter, I just got into town. Figured I'd play a little music for the folk here and see what the town has in store for me in the morning... Seemed like he wasn't too familiar with this place either. Was askin' about all this craziness right along with me... Said he was looking to earn some coin, though. Think he's one of them mercenary types..."
Nootie's eyes scan across everyone at the table again.
"Is that what y'all are, some sort of adventurin' troupe or somethin'? Certainly an interesting bunch to come across"
"Oh, him? Nah, I don't know 'im. Don't know anyone yet for that matter, I just got into town. Figured I'd play a little music for the folk here and see what the town has in store for me in the morning... Seemed like he wasn't too familiar with this place either. Was askin' about all this craziness right along with me... Said he was looking to earn some coin, though. Think he's one of them mercenary types..."
Nootie's eyes scan across everyone at the table again.
"Is that what y'all are, some sort of adventurin' troupe or somethin'? Certainly an interesting bunch to come across"
TD
ES COO Shitposting Dept. of GWF
Tortle Dude lets out a soft grunt as he looks around those that have gathered around him.
There's his longterm acquaintance in Kutshort of whom has been providing a steady ale supply. Tortle Dude can't remember when he last visited Kutshort but something about their interaction has reminded him of the old days.
Tortle Dude shifts his eyes to Tuberius. He can't help but think of the cultural difference that led to an interaction that still confuses Tortle Dude. Why did he offer up some used clothing? Has he never met a Tortle? Does he not know this is how I've spent most of my time? Has he never seen a cloaca? Does he know what a cloaca is? Despite the confusion, he is happy Tuberius has joined the table.
And finally, Tortle Dude turns his attention to Nootie. A fellow lover of music, yet unequivocally much different in size than himself. He looks the small adventurer up and down. Tortle Dude smirks softly.
Nonetheless, Tortle Dude seems happy with the three around him even if there is still an empty seat. He motions to the bar for four mugs of ale.
"I can practically smell the distrust and paranoia on you. Yet here you are with a Tortle who just struck a deal in the open with that Efreeti just to get a fix. It piques my curiosity. Enough about me, enlighten me, what has brought you here?"
There's his longterm acquaintance in Kutshort of whom has been providing a steady ale supply. Tortle Dude can't remember when he last visited Kutshort but something about their interaction has reminded him of the old days.
Tortle Dude shifts his eyes to Tuberius. He can't help but think of the cultural difference that led to an interaction that still confuses Tortle Dude. Why did he offer up some used clothing? Has he never met a Tortle? Does he not know this is how I've spent most of my time? Has he never seen a cloaca? Does he know what a cloaca is? Despite the confusion, he is happy Tuberius has joined the table.
And finally, Tortle Dude turns his attention to Nootie. A fellow lover of music, yet unequivocally much different in size than himself. He looks the small adventurer up and down. Tortle Dude smirks softly.
Nonetheless, Tortle Dude seems happy with the three around him even if there is still an empty seat. He motions to the bar for four mugs of ale.
"I can practically smell the distrust and paranoia on you. Yet here you are with a Tortle who just struck a deal in the open with that Efreeti just to get a fix. It piques my curiosity. Enough about me, enlighten me, what has brought you here?"
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Yet again, the door opens and the few eyes that still turn towards the door have to drift a bit down to see the tavern's latest customer. There in the doorway stands a dwarf, bald as the day he was born, with a thick braided beard reaching a good ways down his chest. He walks up to the counter.
"Oi! Barkeep! Can ye be so good as to pour me two ale? One for me right hand an' another for me left!" He says, as he puts a couple of coins on the counter. Taking his two tankards he goes to find a free dwarf-sized spot at a table.
Nac sits down on a chair, putting his ale on the table in front of him. He takes his pack off and puts it on the floor next to him. He takes one of the tankards and takes a gulp. A contented sigh escapes his lips as he looks around the room.
At a table nearby he sees an odd gathering of creatures: a tortle, a firbolg, a half elf and a bird creature in a cowboy hat.
"Heh, sounds like the start of a joke" he says quietly to himself. "A tortle, a firbolg, a half elf and a bird walks into a tavern... heh."
As he continues drinking his ale and looking about, Nac sees a few others of note: a tiefling at the bar, a rock gnome and a halfling lass.
Now and then his eyes return to the table of diverse beings, something about it draws his attention...
"Oi! Barkeep! Can ye be so good as to pour me two ale? One for me right hand an' another for me left!" He says, as he puts a couple of coins on the counter. Taking his two tankards he goes to find a free dwarf-sized spot at a table.
Nac sits down on a chair, putting his ale on the table in front of him. He takes his pack off and puts it on the floor next to him. He takes one of the tankards and takes a gulp. A contented sigh escapes his lips as he looks around the room.
At a table nearby he sees an odd gathering of creatures: a tortle, a firbolg, a half elf and a bird creature in a cowboy hat.
"Heh, sounds like the start of a joke" he says quietly to himself. "A tortle, a firbolg, a half elf and a bird walks into a tavern... heh."
As he continues drinking his ale and looking about, Nac sees a few others of note: a tiefling at the bar, a rock gnome and a halfling lass.
Now and then his eyes return to the table of diverse beings, something about it draws his attention...
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WHABAM!
"Kark glob!"
Most everyone's attention is diverted at the entrance to the in as a sudden loud noise followed by what they believe to be a specific choice of words yelled by someone upset. What they see is a large 6'11 creature awkwardly hunch down to get through the door way, whilst rubbing a slightly reddening mark on his forehead, clearly been given to ones who pay no attention to what they walk into.
Aims'Orreh Mwuh'Bwadd, a lumbering half-orc clearly upset at the heightist doorways and definitely not his own ineptitude, steps inside the tavern and pulls the door shut behind him. As he turns around to face the tavern to see a sea of eyeballs staring at him. A flush of red similar to the mark on his forehead appear on his cheeks as the uncharacteristically self-conscious half-orc notices him being the center of attention. He visibly seems to shrink couple sizes as he sheepishly walks around tables with an awkward smile and a small nod at everyone he passes as a hello.
Finally at the side of the tavern he finds a an empty table to sit at, still rubbing his aching red forehead, before hiding his also red face in his hands. Great job you did there Aims. Way to have everyone think your a dumb orc Aims. Maybe next time play a song and dance for more laughs Aims.
"Siiiiighhhh..."
"Kark glob!"
Most everyone's attention is diverted at the entrance to the in as a sudden loud noise followed by what they believe to be a specific choice of words yelled by someone upset. What they see is a large 6'11 creature awkwardly hunch down to get through the door way, whilst rubbing a slightly reddening mark on his forehead, clearly been given to ones who pay no attention to what they walk into.
Aims'Orreh Mwuh'Bwadd, a lumbering half-orc clearly upset at the heightist doorways and definitely not his own ineptitude, steps inside the tavern and pulls the door shut behind him. As he turns around to face the tavern to see a sea of eyeballs staring at him. A flush of red similar to the mark on his forehead appear on his cheeks as the uncharacteristically self-conscious half-orc notices him being the center of attention. He visibly seems to shrink couple sizes as he sheepishly walks around tables with an awkward smile and a small nod at everyone he passes as a hello.
Finally at the side of the tavern he finds a an empty table to sit at, still rubbing his aching red forehead, before hiding his also red face in his hands. Great job you did there Aims. Way to have everyone think your a dumb orc Aims. Maybe next time play a song and dance for more laughs Aims.
"Siiiiighhhh..."
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Nootie fiddles with his lute as the tortle speaks, tuning and strumming it seemingly absentmindedly.
"Well pardner, it's like I said. I came to play some music for people and maybe earn a few coin in the process to get by. Sure I'm a bit paranoid, but you would be too if you hung around the folk I have. Truthfully, though, I wouldn't be here if I weren't hopin' to find somethin'. I aint never seen anyone who looks like me in my life, and I figure the more taverns I visit, the higher my chance of finding one. But until I do I'm just wastin' time here, doin the one thing I love...
Just wastin' time... Time is wastin', time is walkin, you ain't no friend o' mine... I don't know where I'm goin... think I'm outta my miiiind... thinkin about tiiiiiime."
As Nootie starts rambling on in song, the new patrons start filing in.
"....Can ya teach me bout tomorrow, and all the pain and sorrow.... runnin' freeee..."
Nootie casts Healing Word on the half-orc through his singing
(Campaign isn't active on D&DB, but if it was your forehead would've gotten 4 pretend HP lol)
"'Cause tomorrow's just another day... and I don't believe in time"
OOC: You guys might wanna click Remove Formatting instead of black when changing colors because it looks pretty rough in dark mode lmao
"Well pardner, it's like I said. I came to play some music for people and maybe earn a few coin in the process to get by. Sure I'm a bit paranoid, but you would be too if you hung around the folk I have. Truthfully, though, I wouldn't be here if I weren't hopin' to find somethin'. I aint never seen anyone who looks like me in my life, and I figure the more taverns I visit, the higher my chance of finding one. But until I do I'm just wastin' time here, doin the one thing I love...
Just wastin' time... Time is wastin', time is walkin, you ain't no friend o' mine... I don't know where I'm goin... think I'm outta my miiiind... thinkin about tiiiiiime."
As Nootie starts rambling on in song, the new patrons start filing in.
"....Can ya teach me bout tomorrow, and all the pain and sorrow.... runnin' freeee..."
Nootie casts Healing Word on the half-orc through his singing
(Campaign isn't active on D&DB, but if it was your forehead would've gotten 4 pretend HP lol)
"'Cause tomorrow's just another day... and I don't believe in time"
OOC: You guys might wanna click Remove Formatting instead of black when changing colors because it looks pretty rough in dark mode lmao