Joe simply nods as Greb asks to come along, and the pair begin their walk toward the weaponsmiths area that can be seen from the docks. As the walk continues, Joe breaches the silence with a blunt question. "So, I'm human. What are you? We don't have any kinda people that look like you back home."

Ambling along, the question catches Greb off stride, but he quickly recovers. "Me? Oh, I'm a goblin, much like our friend Boorgrub. Problem is, my extended family saw me as an abomination when I was born with a tail. My parents protected me as long as they could, but eventually the community branded me and cast me out. When I learned how to read I was able to do some research and I found out that folks like me have popped up in goblin society every so often. It turns out that we're an off-shoot race called monkey goblins. Just as ugly as the standard model, but lots smarter too."

"That's harsh. I mean, my dad beat me, but he didn't throw me out. Seems like you are doing alright, though." Gruff and direct, he stops talking about the topic once you both reach the first weapon shop. The shopkeep inside is a bald woman with a powerful build. She has a dirty leather apron, like the type blacksmiths wear.

"Oi, welcome to me shop! What are ye lookin' for today?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:10, Mon 11 Dec 2023.

Greb says "my friend here is looking for a mace. I'm wondering if you have any throwing daggers of either exceptional quality or of cold Iron?"

"Aye, I can help ye with all o' that. Give me a moment to gather some things together." She steps into the back, and you can see a storeroom full of weaponry of all types. a moment later, she returns with a mace and a box of daggers. "The mace will cost ye 15, and I have moth master daggers and cold iron. The masters will run 310, the cold iron are a lot cheaper, just 25 a pop. How many and which ones are ye looking wanting?"

Greb nods. "Have you any daggers designed for throwing? They have farther range than most, balanced for throwing. Usually cost twice as much, but they aren't in common use. Any like that?"


OOC Throwing Daggers were from Ultimate Equipment I think. Range increment 20', costing either 4 gp each or 6 gp. Piercing damage only, not designed for slicing.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:15, Mon 11 Dec 2023.

"Yeah, I got some of those in the back. First, do you want that mace or nah, mate?"

Joe had been taking a few practice swings, and turns back at the question. "Yeah, this will do. 15 for the mace, right?" He hands over the coin, and the shopkeep tucks it away and turns back to the storeroom, returning in a moment with a bandoleer with several of the requested daggers. "5 each. Do you want some of all 3?"

Greb counts out 40 gold and hands it over, saying "all three and the cold Iron dagger, please." He thinks a moment, then asks "has anyone ever enchanted a bandolier of throwing knives with an Endless Ammunition enchantment?"


Greb then turns to Joe. "You know when I said I did some research into goblins? Turns out there is an aquatic version of goblins called grindylows. Have you ever encountered them?"

The shopkeep snorts out a half a laugh. "They might, but it's better to use a returning enchantment on the daggers and key the return location to the bandoleer."

Joe thoughtfully pinches his chin. "Yeah, I think so, but we don't call them that at home. Little goblins with tentacles instead of legs, right? We call them Octogobs. Kinda simple name, I admit, haha."

Greb tells the smith "better, yes. If you have the coin for enchanting daggers AND adding a Returning enchantment. About 16000 gold, at least. The bandolier with a low tier spell made continuous would be less than 5000 gold. A lot closer to my price range."


Speaking to Joe, he says "yeah, that's them. Octogobs, huh? Kinda like that. Supposed to be really nasty things too."

"Yeah, they are wicked hard to scrape off your hull, haha!"

Joe slips the mace under his belt, and turns back to Greb. "So, you're a healer, right? What made you decide to join the rest of this team?"

Greb chuckles. "Surgery is the skill I've felt the calling for. But I have several skills. Scout, linguist, trap disarming when needful. Knife Master. I graduated from killing with blades to healing with them."

"I have to add, your Common is flawless. I'd have thought our languages would diverge over the centuries, but I understand you just fine, Joe" Greb comments.

"Oh, yeah, the captain did that. She spent a wish on making communication easier. We all speak your common tongue, and the ones on the ship with us speak ours. We are just using yours to avoid suspicion."

"Sounds like another language I've got to learn. Fortunately I'm good with languages. I speak about 10 or 12, I think " he remarks.

"That is a truly insane number of languages. What made you want to learn all that?"

Greb smiled. "When I got thrown out, I had to fend for myself. Had to figure out what I was good at. Turns out it was sneaking into places I had no business being in. Advertised myself as a Scout. Spotting someone making plans paid. Knowing 'what was being planned' paid a lot more. Learned a lot of languages for that. Then when I started studying the outer planes I found out that they had their own languages too, and I've been learning those as well. "
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:33, Sat 16 Dec 2023.

"Well, I'll help you learn our common tongue then. For now, where are you heading next?"

Greb says "hoping to find an armorsmith. Would love a lightweight buckler to wear on my arm. Don't have enough mana to keep the arcane shield up indefinitely, so a backup would be nice."

"Sounds fine to me. I'm ready to be drunk, ha! I think I will go find wherever Polly set up shop and start that process. We will see you later at the inn?"

"Sounds Good" Greb agrees, then turns to the weaponsmith. "Do you have an armorsmith in town that you trust? I prefer dealing with people that the other locals actually like."


[Private to GM: On the way to the armorsmith, Greb will be on the lookout for beggars or young toughs looking for a quick score. Greb wants to contact the local Rogue's guild to see if they might know of any interesting local events that the group needs to be aware of. For a reasonable price, of course. ]

"Yeah, go left out of my shop, and look for the red shield on the sign, Beltran will take good care of you."

While traversing the cobblestone thoroughfare, your discerning gaze encounters a figure shrouded in destitution, seated amidst a tangle of weather-worn rags. This beggar, a specter of circumstance, extends a hand of fragility, the gnarled appendage trembling as it reaches out toward you. In the feeble grasp is a receptacle, its meager contents producing a faint symphony of clinking coins—a humble offering in stark contrast to the opulence of the streets you tread. The beggar's eyes, dimmed by the harsh realities of life, beseech with silent eloquence, weaving a tale of resilience amid the tapestry of adversity.