"Oh you mean me. Sigh."
The gnome doesn't realize they are talking about him for a few moments, since his name isn't really Sunny, and he forgets they mean him from time to time. Then he's prompted forward and he silently pads up to the door, listens ear against it, then checks the door for traps or locks.
Chapter 2: Phandalin
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Vardaen
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Tresendar Manor
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
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Shurijo
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Tresendar Manor
The Deep Gnome walks to the closest (one going south) door and inspects the hinges and the locking mechanism. Based on his observation, he is confident that it is not locked. As he presses his ear near the door, he hears several deep, gruff voices in he believes might be a Goblinoid language. Based on the inflections, it sounds like the gruff voices are issuing orders or making threats.
Unable to translate Goblinoid, the Deep Gnome shrugs and makes his way to he other door (one going north). His visual inspection reveals the same as the other door - he is also confident it is not locked. From this door, he hears a strange rattling sound followed by shouts, cheers, and groans. Base on his experience, it sounds like humans. The shouts, cheers, and groans are followed by a minute or so of gabbling and then another rattling sound followed by more shouts and groans. This repeats for a while with the spacing varying.
Unable to translate Goblinoid, the Deep Gnome shrugs and makes his way to he other door (one going north). His visual inspection reveals the same as the other door - he is also confident it is not locked. From this door, he hears a strange rattling sound followed by shouts, cheers, and groans. Base on his experience, it sounds like humans. The shouts, cheers, and groans are followed by a minute or so of gabbling and then another rattling sound followed by more shouts and groans. This repeats for a while with the spacing varying.
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Vardaen
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Tresendar Manor
Moving back to the middle of the group he shrugs, "Goblins..." he points south , "...men in heat?" he points north.
"The doors are not locked, so the choice is more difficult of course." He exhales long.
"The doors are not locked, so the choice is more difficult of course." He exhales long.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
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RorytheRomulan
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- Location: US
Tresendar Manor
Arveene blinks at the gnome's description. "Grogg, what do you remember from when you were here last? The layout, any big names?"
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Vardaen
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Tresendar Manor
The deep gnome then recalls his own visit to gamble some. "Perhaps they are training, fist fighting. Probably not lucky enough to have it be my first thought." He draws his blades and lowers his head a bit, a grin on his face, he's ready to slice some guys up.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
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RorytheRomulan
- Level 12
- Posts: 1841
- Location: US
Tresendar Manor
The noble lady breathes a sign of vexation, but despite this appears calmer. "We're about to find out. I'm entering. I want you next to me. You too Grogg. Look tough and stand in the way of the door, keep it wide open. The rest of you, keep hidden if you can - Sasha, cover your badge - and make ready for a fight."
Arveene smacks her face to feel brave and raises her hand to knock on the north door, then to enter, without waiting for someone to approach from the other side.
Arveene smacks her face to feel brave and raises her hand to knock on the north door, then to enter, without waiting for someone to approach from the other side.
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Othniel
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Tresendar Manor
Sasha nods and does as Arveene suggests. If she's annoyed that the other woman suddenly takes charge, she doesn't show it. Perhaps she wants to evaluate Arveene's leadership capabilities.
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Shurijo
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Tresendar Manor
Arveene polity knocks on the door and Grogg pushes the door open, the group sees...
Several worn tables and chairs are scattered around this large room. Wooden benches are drawn up against walls decorated with draperies of brown and red, and several ale kegs are propped up and tapped.
Four tough-looking human warriors wearing scarlet cloaks are gathered around one of the tables. A stack of coins and trinkets is heaped upon the tabletop between them.
As three of the group glances over to the door, one of them begins to slide coins out of the collection into his lap. All of them appear to be slightly inebriated as they quickly stand and draw their blades.
Several worn tables and chairs are scattered around this large room. Wooden benches are drawn up against walls decorated with draperies of brown and red, and several ale kegs are propped up and tapped.
Four tough-looking human warriors wearing scarlet cloaks are gathered around one of the tables. A stack of coins and trinkets is heaped upon the tabletop between them.
As three of the group glances over to the door, one of them begins to slide coins out of the collection into his lap. All of them appear to be slightly inebriated as they quickly stand and draw their blades.
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RorytheRomulan
- Level 12
- Posts: 1841
- Location: US
Tresendar Manor
Arveene opens her mouth to speak, and nothing comes out as she narrows her gaze at the gamblers getting up and drawing their weapons. Fear for her life forces her to drop her plan, and she climbs on top of a barrel.
She steps across the barrels to gain some distance, then she turns and points her finger at the one in front and to the right of the party. The melody he hears is like a gothic dirge sung in a nothic's raspy tenor, as though it were feasting on his soul.
Dissonant Whispers
She steps across the barrels to gain some distance, then she turns and points her finger at the one in front and to the right of the party. The melody he hears is like a gothic dirge sung in a nothic's raspy tenor, as though it were feasting on his soul.
Dissonant Whispers