While waiting for the lady to join them, Quinlan picks up an odd looking hat from his pack.
What do you think I should wear for disguise? This one too obvious? He adds as he puts on the hat and his features suddenly changes to that of a black panther, whiskers and all.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:00, Mon 09 June 2008.

"Neat, for a festival." Caitlin said, who had showed up after what seemed to her a century of sleep. "But it is useless if you want to pass by and be forgotten a second later." she thought to herself.

Caitlin had seen everyone ready and asked the innkeeper for breakfast 'to go'. Since there were no travelling mugs available, she had to settle for a quick sip of some hot coffee before leaving the friendly inn.

With her breakfast bag in hand she turned to smile at Loorn "So, are we ready to go?"

The svirfneblin scowled. "Think I do that too many drow associate with black panthers."

Then he smiled. "Need a hat, you do? Do that I can all by myself. Old svirfneblin trick." He declared, proudly. Too bad he could only keep it up for a limited time, as everyone discovered last night.

"Ready to go I am."

Ah, but I am no Drow, although it does appear my father was... or is. I'm a Dalesman. Quinlan replies, winking. He removes his hat.
Svirfnerblin? Is that the name of your people? Quinlan inquires, clearly interested by the little ones revelation.
What other tricks do you know?

Oh no! He'd said it! "Svirfneblin I am, yes." he answered circumspectly. "And of tricks I have others, but none that at this time you need to know!" After all, the secrets of the svirfnebli were theirs to keep.

Very true. Shall we venture forth then, it's a rather long way to get to the fair? Quinlan asks the small group. As they head outside, Quinlan pulls up the hood of his cloak, hiding his dark face and white hair from the eyes of the casual observer.

Your party heads out on the road, its a solid five hours of walking to Muffin's Honor, you should arrive by mid-afternoon. The road itself is empty of other traveler's, and meanders throughout the gently rolling green hills. Its punctuated with lone trees every so often on hilltops off to the side of the road.

At lunchtime, you stop, grateful to rest your feet. You have located a slightly shady spot under a tree that is not too far off the main road, its at the top of a very small hill. You think you are only about two short hours from town.

Under the shade of the tree, Quinlan stretches out on the grass as he unpacks the bundle of food Darla prepared for him. What a pleasant area this is, reminds me of home. he says, looking at the rolling green hills around them. While looking very relaxed, he still has his bow within arms reach and two arrows stuck into the ground at his feet, ready to be fired at moments notice.

Caitlin quirked an eyebrow when she saw Quinlan ready his arrows for an emergency. It seemed he was just as paranoid as her. The girl let her eyes wander over the horizon and enjoyed the elevated position, it would help greatly to spot any unsuspected threats.

She had finished her breakfast while walking and didn't feel that hungry yet but rather than relaxing, she allowed her mind to wander while observing their surroundings.

Schnickle plopped down on the turf with a weary sigh. It was tiresome travelling with three long-legged big-folk, especially so when busy scouting and sneaking ahead, behind and all around constantly. He was glad for the little breaks and rests.

"No home like mine," he sighed, gazing around. He missed the closed-in caverns, the crystals and gems and mushroom forests, the safety and security of Neblheim.

Seeing Quinlan ready his bow, Schnickle kept his crossbow loaded, just in case.

Loorn was in a solemn mood mainly because he had to travel with the others as that meant he had too keep an eye out for more than Caitlin which in itself was a job that took most of his time normally. As the chatter began he forced himself to too speak, didn't want to come out as a boring guy really.

"Where is your home?" He asked the gnome.

Caitlin was tempted to read the little one's mind but realized it would become problematic should he find out. Instead she sighed and waited for Schnicklegulp's answer.

The gnome frowned. There was no way that would he reveal Neblheim's location, not to anybody. And of course, he had absolutely no idea where he was either; he could be on the other side of the planet, if not another one altogether, after where he'd been. And the landmarks around the caverns of his homeland were likely known only to those who lived there, and would mean nothing to these surfacers.

"No idea have I." he said, saddened and homesick. "Far away and deep underground it is, and very lost am I." he said, evasively.

Eager to make Neblheim live in his mind, Schnickle went on at length about it, still carefully censored of certain things. And slightly embellished. "In a small cavern it is, all around with houses carved from stone - walls, floors, ceiling, and stairs back and forth and up and down they are going. Upwards through it a canal runs, water sparkling from crystal lights by thousands. Svirfneblin like me walk everywhere, safe and happy. Miss it, I do." he finished wistfully.


OOC: A bit like this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I...r%27s_Relativity.jpg :)
This message was last edited by the player at 13:15, Thu 12 June 2008.

Your lunch spot offered a delightful respite from the morning travel. Knowing you only have just over two hours to get to town, you set out again with a renewed step and food in your bellies.

After about an hour of traveling towards town, things are becoming a little more wooded. As he is scouting ahead, Snickle notices a few wisps of smoke just over the crest of a small hill along the road. You all begin to smell burning wood as soon as Snickle says something. Its obvious there is no structure ahead, such as an inn that would have a fire. Something seems to be amiss.

Something's on fire... shall we take a look? Probably just trappers or timbermen camping, but it doesn't hurt to find out. Quinlan suggests.
Arming his bow Quinlan moves in the direction of the smoke.
Schnickle and I can scout ahead.

Just before you get to the crest of the small hill, you can hear a pair of dog-like voices, yelping and yapping.

[Private to Schnicklegulp Stoneswiper: you think the voices belong to kobolds]

Where there's smoke, there's... kobolds? He waved at the others to stop and be careful. "Kobolds I hear!" he hissed quietly. "Careful you must be." The nasty critters were tricky and wicked and new, having dealt with them many times before in the warrens near Neblheim.

He scuttled closer, crossbow at the ready, and tried to find where the kobolds lurked.


OOC:
Listen 9, +3 if it really is kobolds
Spot 18, +3 for kobolds
[Private to DM Tarkin: I later noticed you already rolled a Listen check, for Schickle. I guess this is actively looking and listening, rather than passive.]
Hide 24, +3 vs Kobolds
Move Silently 16, +3 vs Kobolds

Up ahead, a large merchant's wagon lies on its side in the middle of the road. Smashed barrels that once contained wine lie in heaps around the ruined wagon. The rear of the wagon is partially burnt, and parts of it still smolder.

At the head of the wagon lie the bodies of a man and a horse.

you see a pair of halflings digging around in the remains of the wagon.

[Private to Schnicklegulp Stoneswiper: you swear it sounds like kobolds still.]

Quiet as a cat, Quinlan follows the small ranger, an arrow on the bowstring. At the sight of the carnage Quinlan finds some cover before peaking again trying to see and hear were the yapping comes from. The presence of the halflings on the site puzzles him; what are they up to?

He waves at the barbarian and his companion to stay back for the time being.

08:45, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 23 using 1d20+8. Spot.
08:44, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 22 using 1d20+4. Listen.
08:44, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 24 using 1d20+7. Hide.
08:44, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 15 using 1d20+7. Move silently.

Schnickle frowned, confused and suspicious. "Heard kobolds, I did. Know it, I do." He gestured to the diminutive forms; they certainly were not gnomes. "These are creatures of what kind" he asked as the others got into position.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:47, Fri 13 June 2008.

Caitlin shushed Loorn, who was probably going to say something in his wonderfully maskuline voice. Although she loved to hear it, she was afraid it would give their presence away. Indeed the sounds the odd gnome identified as kobolds, sounded strangely familiar. Sneaking closer, the girl put more weight on hiding well, than keeping silent. Wondering what the halflings did, she put an arrow into her longbow...

Spot: 12
Move silently: 16
Hide: 23

The two halflings seem to be busy with counting out a large pile of silver coins and twittering on. they seem to be quite excited, to the point where they are fairly oblivious. After a couple of minutes of inspection, you can see the following:

* they are not hurt
* the skin of the man and the horse are a terrible fiery red. The bodies are horribly swollen, and almost seem to steam from several deep punctures on the necks and chests.
* one of the halflings is wearing VERY expensive clothes and is immaculately groomed.
* the other is wearing leather armor.

[Private to Caitlin o'Donnel: you recognize the speech, its draconic. they're babbling on about how lucky they are to have found such a wonderful treasure and they didn't even have to fight for it.]

PL: [Private to DM Tarkin: Quinlan speaks halfling, is he able to hear anything of their conversation?]

PL: [Private to Quinlan Fairfellow: you hear no halfling phrases at all. its all yapping and unknown to you.]

They aren't speaking halfling... what is this? Quinlan whispers.