In reply to GM (msg # 11):

Coins

Barg scrambled to pick up the coin purse and looked on as the two rider beat a hasty retreat, a disappointed look on his face brightened only by the coin purse in his hand

"Thanks be you! Very kind but Barg is needing moss stone not coins! Mistake is forgiven!!"

When the gruff voice spoke, Barg looked at his clothes, poncho and armour and began to strip then and there to let the rain wash over him

In reply to Barg (msg # 14):

Penny looked at the people riding on "Hello! you dropped... they can't hear me can they?" she sighed. She would have to find them in Lichtenfeld when they were done here and give their gold back.

"Which runt are you talking about sir because I'm afraid I won't be doing any stripping until at least three or four drinks in me" Penny strode into the building, wringing out her dress.

Thamkis moved like a woman of her age through the muck after disembarking, stopping to shield Graham's eyes from the goblin's nakedness. She shook her head and with walking stick in hand ambled up to the porch and inside

"He's going to come into this place naked if you don't tell him to put something on . . . just warning you."

"Ha!" The gruff one guffawed. "That's funny. And, sides to walls, he wouldn't be the first one to wonder here about in a birthday suit. Probably not even for a Goblin."

A round off chuckles followed the remark even as half a dozen men, halflings, and an elder gnome with more beard than face set out three mugs of beer, two cups of wine, and one glass of fiery, red dwarf whiskey.

"Well, lassie, it sure seems these boys want to see what's under those clothes!" The voice continued on, less gruff an more laughing.

An unusually tall elf maiden with full rounded hips and shoulders bespeaking of a human parent in her lineage walked out to greet them with a stern look and straight talk, "Come in to eat, to drink, to sing, and to rest. No fighting, filtching, fornicating, or foul mouthery. Now, what can I get for you?"

A massively bulky Orc walked past the half-elf with a equally massive human just behind him. Both wore plate and chain armor with various weapons strapped to them. They spoke in a clipped, guttural language without rancor or joy. As they passed the girl the man spoke to her.

"Abigail thank your mother for the dried meat." He said in a deep voice. "We'll be back for more in ten days. Fighting those damn orcs and goblins in the valley is hungry work."

In reply to GM (msg # 17):

Brengalyn put two silver pieces on the bar top

"A gallon of ale barkeep. In your own time."

Bringing over the ale herself to the party once they were settled, Brengalyn jumped back up to intercept the two armoured fellows talking about mercenary work

"Pardon me gentlemen, you were mentioning orcs and goblins? May I ask, is that a common issue around these parts?"

"Aye, especially in the valley of the Little Snake river." The man said. "We are in the employ of a free company under Captain Arno Trand. He pays well, expects discipline and devotion, and will damn well sure put your poker in a hot fire!"

The two laughed together. The Orc looked Brengalyn over, smiled a jagged scarred smile, and added, "But you can leave that her. There be no drinking, whoring, gambling, or fighting in camp. It's real soldier's work and not for pretenders or the faint of heart."

The man led his partner out into the rain and the two slipped into large packs laden with dried meat with bundles of arrows tied to them. It looked heavy, particularly heavy. The two simply started marching off into the rain talking. Their pace was impressive and would give a horse difficulty in matching for distance over time.

Penny rubbed her hands together seeing the alcohol and stuck her tongue out at the offending party trying to ruin her fun as she got to work on the wine first.
 "That halfling and elf, the ones who just left, does anyone know who they were? They might be coming back for something they dropped"

In reply to GM (msg # 19):

"Sounds absolutely horrid. The drinking and gambling and fighting I mean. Frankly if all your comrades look like you it'd be less whoring and more alms."

She gave a small, almost sarcastic nod and let the men leave, returning to the table and the others

"Well we have a heading on this Arno Trand fellow. He commands a free company of eunuchs apparently, camped by the Little Snake river. Less than five days, likely no more than two days travel by the looks of those two men."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:39, Tue 14 July 2020.

Thamkis made an annoyed face when Brengalyn brought over ales and Penny plunged into a drinking binge, shaking her head. Youth.

She got up, tip-tapping her walking stick and using it to part people as she clambered to the bar and cleared her throat

"Do you have the means to heat some water?"

She placed a teapot on the bar top, an old and weathered artifact

"I've some tea I'd like to drink."

Barg took to guzzling one of the ales brought by Brengalyn, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand

"Barg will be back, must stretch feet."

Hopping down, he moved about from table to table, smiling at everyone he saw. Making his way to the bar he pulled himself up beside Thamkis

"Yes, hello, I would like some bufo please! Extra crunchy. And some streats!"

A tall man, lanky in the way of someone who eats too little and drinks too much leaned over the bar. He smiled pleasantly at Thamkis and said, "Grandmother there is a fire in the room to the left," he nodded with his head, "and a water barrel of fresh water just inside the door. Help yourself to both, freely."

Turning to Barg the man held the smile. Astonishingly enough he simply turned and placed Barg's order with someone back in the kitchen. Turning back to Barg he said, "That will be twenty seven coppers. Would you like a bowl of basted fire weevils for only ten coppers more?"

A tune was struck up. Somewhere further into the way house the cords of a song with a quick tempo was being strummed out on fiddle. In moments toe tapping, from many feet, could be heard as well.

In reply to GM (msg # 24):

Thamkis nodded in thanks and began to leave, but stuck around to listen to Barg's odd order.

"Excuse me . . . "

She reached up and four silver coins clattered on the bar top as she disappeared down on the ground again

"For my friend's order here. Give him the fire weevils."

Moving to get the water and start a boil, Thamkis produced some leaves from her belt pouch for making the special tea she enjoyed. She'd never held her drink well, and hadn't drank since her wedding, more than half a lifetime ago.

Barg dug into the bowls of food set before with relish. Nearly immediately after his first handful of weevils he farted a long, loud, and noxious string of flatulent excellence. People roared with laughter, revulsion, or approval. Thamkis could've sworn she had glanced the Goblin lift off his heels nearly and inch.

"Why must we sell those damnable things!" A young woman, maybe fourteen or so, and bearing the same familial features as the serving maid and the barmnan, complained loudly as she went into the kitchen covering her mouth and nose with her hand. "Oh, Baylick's Balls! I got some in my mouth."

The music in the back of the way house stopped, someone yelled, "Riders, riders on spiders. They're back, they're here!"

Out of the dreary and wet came the thud-dud, thud-dud, thud-dud of the double stomps of scampering giant spiders. A sound that drew Brengalyn's attention from just inside the front door. Taking a step back she met the sight of the men and elves on the porch scrambling to their feet as fast moving shapes emerged from the fog and rain a short distance away.

She side stepped at the sound of twanging bowstrings to slip behind the wall. A heartbeat later a pair of arrows passed by flying into the doorway she had just stood in.

Barg was oblivious. The food was good. And it required his attention. Then an arrow flashed by him, smashed his bufo off the counter in a puff, and stuck in the wall. It was a short, thin shafted arrow with a slim iron arrowhead that had hook off to one side. The feathers of night owls, greasy black and fleck with tiny golden spots, were split into fletching running a third of the length of the arrow. Three silver bands several finger breadths from the arrowhead offered a peculiar marking.

It was a Goblin arrow. A Goblin mercenary's arrow. Barg had seen plenty of them; sometimes heading away from him, sometimes heading at him.

Inside the way house someone began tolling a bell as people began to move away from plates and tankards to retrieve swords, bows, and wands or search a place to get out of the way and stay safe. There were too many children and elders to protect them all if the Goblins came in force. Many mothers herded younglings or drug elders along.

Thamkis stared at the kettle. Such were her days, she sighed, considered if it would be best to let the kettle boil while this was sorted out or if she should set it aside and come back after the threat had passed.

Penny hung back to wait for the fighters to get past then stepping out cast a grease spell on the floor in front of the door. She placed a finger in front of her mouth shushing one of the children before walking out of sight of the frame and grabbing her starknives.

Brengalyn reached behind her for her bow and cursed. It was with Velvet. By the time she got to Velvet she'd likely be at swords and knives, not arrows.

Moving to the porch, she drew her ankus, the engraved haft of the lovely goad twirling in her graceful fingers as she shook her hair, strapping her buckler from it's hanging on her hip to her arm.

"Cover me, they mustn't run before we can drop one. We'll need someone to talk."

Barg looked with horror at his bufo. His bufo! Stuck in the wall!

When he turned back he was not the same goblin he had been these past few days. Well he was, but he was also snarling, angry and bloodthirsty.

Bounding out of the tavern, Barg roared and snarled, spittle flying

In goblin, he shouted a challenge

"Barg is son of barghest, is greatest goblin! You have smashed his bufo! Submit meekly and Barg will only take your ears!"

OOC: Intimidate check 11

To the astonishment of everyone three of the riders pulled up short at Barg's words and seemed genuinely concerned about committing to further action. Brengalyn, followed by two others, descended the steps into the muck and rain to meet the Goblins head on.

"Close in, you kurs! Close in." A Goblin wearing brigandine armor shouted. He was brandishing a spear in a very businesslike manner as well. "Now, now, on them before they can escape the wayhouse."

"But, it is the son of Barghest!" A Goblin replied in turn.

A passing spider rider used a backhanded swing of a hammer to knock the cowed Goblin from his spider saddle and into the mud with a mighty umph of exhaled air. He seemed to move, but slowly and disjointedly.

"Hello friends! Penny Perseus at your service!" Penny waved at the goblins and placed her hands in the pockets of her dress, "Do you mind explaining to us why you're trying to attack these fine people? There's an awful lot of confusion that I think would be fixed if we could talk things through. Maybe if your nice I can even write a little song about this story once we're done" she strummed a few chords on her instrument as she offered to help the fallen goblin up.
ooc 10:36, Today: Penny Perseus rolled 28 using 1d20+10 ((18)). diplomacy
This message was last edited by the player at 14:39, Tue 28 July 2020.

"A song!" A Goblin called out. "A bard, this battle will make us immortal!"

The commanding Goblin guided his spider up next the exuberant Goblin as he spoke about living on through a bard's tale and thrust his spear through the other's torso.

Kicking the skinny body free of his spear to fall in the mud he shouted, "At them, vermin take your hearts, at them."

Several Goblins roared a war cry and charged at Brengalyn and the two men following her off the porch. A spry goblin bound from his galloping spider's saddle to land on the porch in front of the door with a flaming gourd of oil in each hand. When his feet hit the boards Penny's spell instantly sent him to the boards onto his back. The gourd in his right hand was smashed in an effort to catch himself igniting the oil. A moment later there was an explosion as the other gourd burst in the flames of the fire.

The screams of the dying goblin was a terrible as the stench.

Thamkis looked at her kettle and sighed, goblins. The smelly one was bad enough, and apparently had delusions about his importance to match

Taking the kettle off the fire, she walked out as the lead goblin stabbed his fellow

"Tut, that won't do."

Snapping her fingers and gesturing backwards, she focused the heat of the tea kettle and connected it on a path to the goblin's weapon

OOC: burning disarm, Reflex DC 16 or he drops the spear. If he makes the save, he takes 4 fire damage before the spear cools. If the spear is obviously not metal, Thamkis targets a piece of metal he's wearing. If suitably unable to drop it, he gets no save

She took her walking stick in one hand and beat it against her other palm, ready to teach a lesson or two

OOC: initiative 13 for when it matters
This message was last edited by the player at 02:06, Fri 31 July 2020.

"Barg knows only one song . . . is time for you to learn it."

The runt of the Dunwood dropped to his hands and snarled, roaring with frothing mouth as he bounded forward, unchecked and screaming as he barred his teeth and leapt to bite down on the commander.

"Barg is bravest! Barg is boldest! BARG IS STRONGEST!!"

OOC: attack roll 12 (ouch, lowest possible before natural 1), damage 21, grapple if attack hits and damage doesn't kill of 20, initiative roll of 12

Brengalyn watched the small goblin rage and charge

"We need one alive! ONE! Come on people!! I'm only asking for one!"

Stepping forward she swung to hook on of the goblin's legs and pull them out from under them as they moved closer.

OOC: initiative 26, trip 21 (so if it exceeds their CMD, they're tripped and prone).
This message was last edited by the player at 01:32, Sat 01 Aug 2020.

"Withery. Avoid the porch, use the wind, ah damnation!" The Goblin commander shouted. With a reflexive whip of the wrist he pitched the spear in the mud point first where it hissed and sizzle.

"Bah, use the damn windows." He shouted again and drew a sword from a scabbard at his saddle horn. There was a roar and clack of gnashing teeth that drew his attention. He turned his head in time to see Barg hurdle himself in a bough from the mud, grab the spider the Goblin rode by a mandible and pull himself along, just before one hand and seven teeth collided with collided with his throat just above the brigandine.

The pair toppled into the mud with a splatter and roars of rage.

Barg bit down even harder, enraged by this goblin's refusal to admit his strength!

OOC: attack roll 19, damage 15, grapple 25

"ADMIT! ADMIT BARG IS STRONGEST!!"

"Candlelight and moonlight all around us
I look into your eyes
You hold my hand underneath the table
And I can’t disguise the way I feel
I could’ve wished a thousand wishes
For this night, I can’t believe
That it’s finally me and you, and you and me
Just us, and your friend Barg
Do-do-do do do-do do, Barg
Do-do-do do do-do do, leave!
What’s the deal with your friend Barg--
Hey! How's it going?"
Penny strummed her ukelele.
ooc inspire courage +1