It'll take a day or two to reach Zephyr. Long enough for two small encounters to happen before the party gets there.
Alright. And when you say 'per meal' do you mean 'per person'? Or does one meal cover the whole party?
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Fell, they/she, English, currently obsessed with DnD and other ttrpgs. I do art sometimes. I GM the Daggerheart campaign The Witherwild on this very site.
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Alright. And when you say 'per meal' do you mean 'per person'? Or does one meal cover the whole party?
Has it been mentioned how long it will take for the group to get to Cascade's village?
Jub the Peculiar
Jub followed Brutrumukk's gaze towards the boat. It said a lot about the state of things that a boat driving itself was perhaps the least bizarre thing that had happened to them today. That being said, the boat and the magic that seemed to be around it still made his wary. "If you're planning on hijacking that boat back towards the cottage, you're going to be sorely disappointed," he said. "It's got some sort of enchantment on it to make it go back and forth between the two docks." He glanced over at the barbarian. "I heard somewhere that gnomes are apparently more magically attuned than most other folks so I'm surprised you can't sense it. Maybe that's something they have to train themselves to do..."
As he was speaking, something seemed to occur to him. "Look, if I really can't persuade you not to go to that cottage, there is perhaps another way. I still have a couple more uses of that charm the Witchlight Carnival gave me when I was crowned monarch. Now that we're about the same size, I could try and carry you over there." He didn't exactly want to enter that hag's house again, but if the former bugbear was dead set on it than he doubted he could persuade him otherwise. At least this would save them some time... and the possibility of ending up in the water once more.
Plus, let's be real: in a game about clowns, we needed at least one bard. To play a game about clowns without a bard would be sacrilegious. The clown gods would come down and make sad faces at all of us. It would be very unpleasant.
... realised I should get up a post. I'll try and get one up tomorrow
Me just realizing how squishy our party is.
Yeeeeeeaah. I was originally planning on having Arthek be a cleric, but I realised it didn't really fit him. As he stands now, he can play the healer role but he is, err, not going to be taking hits so great.
Jill Brookes
Location: Camphor's Lab Mentions: @Savo @Rune_Alchemist
After her little encounter with the Rotom-phone, Jill had scooped up the still-irritable Aster and followed the rest of the group back to where Camphor was waiting for them. The professor then handed them each of them a strange device which Jill held up to her face in fascination. When the screen came to life, Jill gave a small squeal that first sounded surprised then became one of delight. Again, this kind of technology was not something she was used to, and even as she followed the rest of the group out of the habitat and back into the reception area, her eyes were glued to her Pokedex. She flicked through the various screens, paying particular interest to the map. She was so transfixed she didn't even seem to notice as the rest of the group started to trickle away, leaving only her and a few others left in the lab. It was only when the purple-haired boy from earlier addressed that she finally raised her head.
"Hmm?" she said. She glanced around herself to make sure he was indeed pointing at her. "Oh, err..." Her mind started rewinding as she tried to figure out what he was asking her. What was it... double battles? "Oh! Okay!" Her face lit up. "Yeah, that sounds great, doesn't it Aster?"
The monkey pokemon, who had managed to get out of Jill's grip and was now climbing up onto the girl's shoulder, looked round in surprise. She looked from Jill, to the purple-haired boy and his Riolu, to the two other trainers and their Pokemon. Then, a big grin spread across her face and she jumped down from her trainer's shoulder and onto the lab floor, getting into a fighting stance.
Posted.
I like to imagine every time Arthek enters the speakeasy and/or King's Chamber, he's hoped the rules have changed, and he complains about the fact they haven't each and every time.
I like to imagine every time Arthek enters the speakeasy and/or King's Chamber, he's hoped the rules have changed, and he complains about the fact they haven't each and every time.
Arthek Yarnspin
"Oh, guess we're moving," Arthek muttered to his Mage Hand as Grimi beckoned them downstairs. The spectral appendage abruptly let go of the quill, almost as if exasperated. "Not to worry, we can continue this downstairs." The half-orc picked up his notebook, closing and gently dusting off the spine as he followed the rest of the group. As they were descending, they joined by two more of their clownish colleagues, the joyful Bozo and the enigmatic Miss Light, both of whom Arthek flashed a small smile towards. However, his attention was mostly focused on Iota, and every time he thought she was looking away, he would steal a glance at her. He still had no idea what she was doing here, but he was determined to find out before this evening was done.
When Grimi offered a mask and cloak to everyone in the group, Arthek held up a hand. "Ah, no need, old boy, I've brought my own," he said. He turned back to his Mage Hand. "Hold this for me, would you?" He handed the notebook to it before turning to rummage around in his bag. After a moment, he pulled out a small mask, a cape and, most importantly, a large flamboyant cap with a feather in it, the last of which he had to shake a few times to get it back to its proper shape. He quickly put these on before taking the notebook back and following the rest of the group into the King's Chamber.
It was at this point he was then faced with that accursed contract Grimi insisted on producing every time they entered this room, and Arthek gave a loud sigh as he was reminded of the rules of this area. He plucked the quill from his Mage Hand's grasp before slipping both it and his notebook back into his bag. "Never mind, it appears I won't be needing your services at this time after all," he said before waving his hand in a dismissive manner. The spectral hand became limp before dissolving into a ethereal blue mist and vanishing from this plane of existence. The author stepped forward. "Really, must we go through this ghoulish ritual each time?" he said, not directed towards anyone in particular. If he understood the irony of him of all people referring to something as 'ghoulish' he didn't show it. Nevertheless, he stepped up and pricked his finger, allowing his blood to be added to the paper. His curiosity for what was about to occur outweighed his outrage at this blatant display of censorship.
... that would probably get Arthek to shut up, tbh xD Or at least, a very quiet "Oh."
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