Szilard's eyes flicker across the broken windows as they step into the tavern. He keeps his eyes on the crowd as Pety bickers with the barman, but he doesn't pull all of his attention from the pair. "Shards are the silver ones." he says dryly. "Kra lashesh-" He starts saying quietly, then...
Szilard sees that his ploy is not wholly ineffective and continues with the sale. "That will be just fine. One does not find an accessory like this every day." The hobgoblin pulls out three coins, and hands them over one by one, twirling each one between his fingers and using just a hint of...
Seeing trouble brewing, Szilard grabs the purple glove. While the Tristan talks to Yorin, Szilard talks to Xoblob. "Sorry for the quick temper of my companion. Doubtless a curiosities dealer sees many interesting items, and coincidences happen. I would like to buy this fine glove, by way of...
Szilard listens intently, working through his drink, as Volo goes on. As the beat of the conversation leaves him a pause, he asks, "Not that we won't help, but why come to private citizens, rather than law enforcement? Is there a facet of this that you wish kept quiet?"
Szilard manages to get in a swift jab with the skeletal hand, but it's nearly lost in the rush of action. As things wrap up he goes over the situation in his mind, a reflexive habit to try and make the details stick. He takes Durnan's offer with a grateful nod and sips it while watching Volo...
Szilard takes in the rapidly changing situation without missing a beat. He recites a word of power, and a pale, skeletal hand grabs the stirge plaguing Yorin. Szilard clenches his fist and the hand does likewise, killing the pest.
Szilard calmly takes a swallow of his ale and looks to Alveron. "It never ceases to amaze me how unruly humans can get." he says flatly. Wearing a plain outfit that might have looked nice had it not been as old, Szilard almost looked like a normal accountant. It was only the sharp ears and...
I am interested. I'd like to play a hobgoblin wizard, a disciplined, ambitious soldier-mage who got double-crossed out of hobgoblin society and is hoping to find a way to be appreciated by the not-green folks, so he can still carry out that dream of being the best wizard.
Haunt drops in on an entrepreneurial alchemist he's dealt with before. Letting himself in the back door of the ramshackle shop, Haunt calls lightly, "Mac, you in? I've got some money I might not leave with."
A few minutes later, Haunt is on his merry way, and picks up a simple cudgel to use...
Haunt tells the others he needs to make a few preparations, but he'll meet up with them soon. Once on his own, he goes over his tools twice, and tries to make sure he's prepared for whatever trouble the dusty buckets of bolts can dish out.
"He can see you from the window." Haunt says, sipping a whiskey sour. You notice he's leaning on a support pillar, staying just out of Churl's line of sight. "We should go in, though. Poor man's been waiting all day."
Haunt had spirited though the place a couple times, torn between not...
Haunt walks nonchalantly out of the apartments near the opera house, a caged raccoon under one arm and a jingle to his step. He knuckles his hat to an important looking man, keeping his demeanor in line with his servant's livery. "Got that blasted thing trapped, eh? Took you long enough!" The...
Thisk watches the newcomer for half a moment through cold eyes, as he assesses his choices. With a soft sigh, the hunter steps forward and grabs the snared scholar by the waist, then digs in his heels and pulls.
It takes a few long, worrying moments, but they manage to best the ooze. Gartener...
Sorry, stuff was still mid-download when I posted. Here's Haunt, a shady character you just can't seem to get rid of. He tends to rearrange objects so that important ones belong to the party.
Thisk's tail twitches once, twice. "A mage." He steps further away from the black slime. Twitch. "Some time is saved by a mage's arrival." he says flatly. After a moment, it occurs to him to run down a mental checklist of his possessions, but he doesn't come up with anything he's willing to...
Thisk's tail lashes side to side absently as he listens to Alenas' report. After a moment his thoughts click into place, and he says, "Mages know. No mage is too busy to study unknown magic. They are not curious because they already know."