One of the small, winged humanoids leans slightly toward Roak, and in a high, thin voice asks, "What's a guy like you doing with the clumsy big ones?"

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 633):

 Leaning around the others to take a look at the one speaking and then to Roak, and then back,  Elboc says, " Huh... He thinks you are on of them? "

Roak chuckles. "Oh, we were traveling together into the desert, but we got lost because of a sandstorm. So, here we are. You chaps seem all right--who are you?"

"The sandstorms can sure be nasty!," the little winged person continues, "My name is Pok," and he sticks his little right hand out in the shaking-hands gesture.

Roak beams and goes to shake Pok's hand. "You can call me Roak!"

Vsaati enters the room, trying to look friendly. She inconspicuously looks around to see if there are any weapons the little ones might bring to bear against the group. "Are you guys hungry?" she asks the little ones. Would it be ok with you if we rested  here a spell and have some lunch (dinner?) with you? How do you guys stay safe down here?"

Vsaati notices no obvious weapons on the small people.

One of the ones in the back of the groups calls out, "I could eat, a bit.  What've ya got?"

Pok shrugs and says, "There's plenty of room and not much going on around here.  You might want to watch out for the slimy green stuff in the room around the corner.  It dissolves just about anything that it touches that isn't stone.  This is just a stop off point for us, now an then, and sometimes a bit of fun."  After a moment's thought, he seems to come to some sudden realization, and says, "You're not with those other stick-in-the-muds, are you?  They've never had much of a sense of humor and never stopped to talk."

Roak snorts. "Are you talking about the guys in masks? No, we just beat 'em up a bit, in fact. Real losers."

Albricht follows Vsaati into the room and lifts his golden mask up to get a better look at the creatures. "Ah right, coulda guessed as much. Wandering creatures. So what do you lot call yourselves? I am called Albricht and I am a dwarf. Vsaati is human as is Sherborne there. You have met Roak our Halfling. And the rest, they are a collection of elves that apparently keeps growing."

Another one of the little people cocks his head hard to the side and says to Albricht, "We're the Bobblesnort Boys!".

Immediately after that, Pok smacks him on the back of his head and counters, "No, we're the Floopwangle Family!"

"I like the Pesky Pixies!" another asserts.

The conversation between them, such as it is, degenerates from there, with what might be good-natured banter and friendly shoving (although elbows to ribs and some nose pulling might give the lie to that).

"These Romans are crazy. Shall we move on?"

Sherborne listens to the banter intently with both amusement and a slight growing concern.  Outwardly he nods at the mention of his name but only looks amused beyond that and remains silent and on guard.

"Ok you Bobblesnort Floopwangle Pixies," Vsaati says, chuckling at their banter. "Is there anything about what's out there you can tell us about besides the slime? Are there any other traps, or maybe some stairs nearby?"

Plathstream nods solemnly. "Though it is to be expected from pixies."

Roak clears his throat, giving Vsaati the stink-eye for being a bit rude, at least from a halfling's perspective. "THANK YOU for telling us about the green slime! You guys are a great help! And the tall pretty one has a good question, though--what else can you tell us about the place?"

Silverglade gets some food out of his pack and holds it outstretched. "Many thanks for the warning about the slime," he says. "Would you like some food?"

"Pixies! I knew it. Makes perfect sense."

Albricht leans in to speak quietly with Elboc. "Perhaps we should leave now before we get too friendly and they attack us for stealing something?"

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 649):

We must continue forward, we should not stay here too long.

In gleeful disarray the pixies fall upon the food offered by Silverglade, alternately stuffing their mouths, mumbling with a full mouth, and talking over one another:

"Watch out for the big bees!"

"They guys with the masks are <mumble> and can't take a joke."

"The big ones <mumble> Zagzon is really <mumble> and will kill them."

"Lots of traps down in the <mumble> room.  Big ones <mumble> and dance around <mumble> really funny!"

"Some of <mumble> have different masks."

Roak nods a lot and then says, "Wait? Who's Zazgon?"

"I was trying to be funny. Geez..." Vsaati quits hissing at Roak, as something the pixies says catches her ear.

"Ooh! Traps! What kind, do tell. My favorites are the kind where a hole opens up in the floor. Are there any like that?" She looks at the pixies with genuine excitement.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:58, Wed 07 Oct 2015.

Rubbing his brow Sherborne comments quietly, "These guys are about as clear as the gods."

"Zagzon? Zaxon?  I dunno.  But the big clods seems to be afraid of it." one of the pixies tells Roak.

To Vsaati, "What would be the good of a trap where the floor drops out?  We can just fly over it."  Another chimes in, saying, "Although it would be funny to leave them with no place to sit," and bursts out into overly-hysterical laughter.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:03, Thu 08 Oct 2015.

Roak also finds this uproariously funny and joins in. "Noplace to sit!"

"What's the funniest ending you've seen someone come to on one of these traps?" asks Silverglade in the hope of getting useful information.