[DnD] Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

The dwarf picked up his dog and looked around.

"Right. I bet those little people have something to move this rock out of the way. And I bet he'll trade it for this here goblet. Though I sort of want to hit that running goblin with the other dwarf until the goblin is dead."

Healing surges to full.
Reacquire puppy

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

Feeling decidedly better, the dwarf glanced down at where the cleric was saving the goblin from an afterlife of torment. Whatever. His god could totally whip her god.

At any rate, he walked back down to pry himself a dragon's tooth as a trophy, fairly certain no one at home would believe the bit about where he killed a dragon.

Following this up, he'd make for the upper rooms, trying to find where that damned coward goblin ran away to.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Originally Posted by Bradylama

Not one to be left out of any fight, Argumentus follows Gabriel to search for the goblin. When they come upon the door it retreated behind, Argumentus attempts to open it the way he knows best how. (to do it)

The dwarf stepped aside to let the human monstrosity bulldoze (literal bulls pulling a gnomish heavy metal plow, called a doze one suspects) his way into the room. Clearly he want to go to there.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

The dwarf slung his axe over his shoulder, spinning it lazily and splattering gore on the nearby walls. He whistled quietly to himself, his mind on finding and killing whatever it was that shot that goblin he wanted to murderize. Kord had gifted him with great battles, but his monstrous thirst for battle was nigh insatiable and he longed for Kord to test him once again. He and his obviously more badasser deity both needed the heat of war to strengthen them. He kept stride alongside Argumentus as they made their way back.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The dwarf bristled at the insolence of the little creatures. They, with the help of his god, had slain a dragon. What threat were these small things compared to the might of the minions of the dark. Hefting his axe from his shoulder and letting its head thud against the ground with a loud, resounding, threatening, no... INTIMIDATING noise, he glared a hole through the kobold leader.

"Alright you Primitive Screwheads, listen up! You see this? This... is my cut stick! The twelve-gauge double-sided Slayington. Dungeon's top of the line. You can find this in the kobold killing department. That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Retails for about a hundred and nine, ninety five. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and a hair cutting edge. That's right. Shop smart. Shop Dungeon. You got that?!" He bellowed.

"Now, I strongly suggest you take us to the door before we give you these red herrings. I mean candies."

Use intimidate for fun and profit

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

The dwarf looked down at the scroll.

"Well. Ain't that a bitch."

How ya doing, buddy?

The dwarf wanders out towards the explosion, hoping now that a tooth was dislodged in the process.

"Oh hey. The way out. I guess mighty Kord has smiled upon us and smoten the rock asunder. Truly it is an act of the great and mighty god, as he shows us favour for living up to his values." he said, utterly ignoring the perfectly mundane solution like a good believer. Even though it's walking out of the cave with a rock in its hand.

"There's this big hole down here. It's pretty cool. Truly Kord provides."

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

"I don't know about you, Brother, but I'm gonna find the fucker who buried me in that cage and introduce him to Kord's warm love via cold steel."

He patted his fellow dwarf on the back and then smirked. "Who would have guessed a pair of dwarves would leave the underground before a pack of weak-backed non-beards?"

FELIPE NO

The dwarf sighed. Truth be told, he missed the dungeon a bit. As a dwarf, he longed for the soaring ceilings of stone and the dark caverns cried out to him the way a siren might to a sailor. However, it had been too long since he was in a place of reverence to his lord.

"Fair enough, stranger. For starters, you can tell me where the nearest Temple to Kord lies. It's been too long since I offered up a prayer to the god of war in his own house."

It seemed a smart request, given they were in the temple district. He glanced over at not-so-silent-Bob and smirked, despite himself. He may think these people were utter wankers, but they were his allies in battle, and for that they had his loyalty.

Adjusting Murray and Thomas he let his axe slide onto his shoulder, running the hand clutching his shield through his long beard, sighing at the singed quality to its former lustrous glory. He was covered in grit and blood, but he would not wash it away just yet. These were the marks of Kord's favour, and he would not insult his god by walking into his house devoid of proper livery. He took a moment to summon his mastiff, scratching the dog that was as tall as he was between the ears and squinting against the bright light.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The dwarf trudged down towards the town, with the wizard on his heels, looking to find himself a house of worship and maybe a nice armoury.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The dwarf looked over the armour, scratching his chin as he looked at a particular piece.

"All right, mate. I'm liking the look of that there veteran's plate. In my recent travels, I came across this fine piece of dwarven mail." He shifts off the shiny, unbloodied (thank you for the pool, Kord) armour. "I'm thinking these look around equal value. You agree?"

If he does, he looks to trade himself in for some veterans plate armour. "Also, you wouldn't know where a man could find himself an everburning torch, would you?" Short of a glowing, magical holy symbol of Kord, this would suffice for spreading the light of the war god on their next campaign.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

As the shopkeep shook his head, the dwarf shrugged.

All right, the regular plate then. I know a little false-god worshiping heathen would enjoy this chain mail anyway.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The dwarf shrugged into his hefty plate, his back straightening and his smile broadening slightly. Many people would slip into the heavy armour and wilt, but a Paladin of Kord brightened at the weight pressing down across his shoulders. The steady clank of metal as he stepped resounded deliciously to him, putting him alongside the warriors who had lived and died for the deity from time immemorial. Strapping Thomas onto his back, the skull-stick worn like the Samurai standard, and Murray the hat quickly altered so the jaw hinged open around his head's armour. Most prominent, however, was the raised fist of Kord, the chain wrapped around his forearm, the icon dangling from his right wrist.

Feeling properly displayed, he untucked his braided beard from the armour so it could hang free as he strode into Vinely's Ecumenical. He slipped 50 gold on the table and hefted the healing potion in his hand. He had faith in his god's power to find him battle, but he was also a practical man as well as a zealot, and the longer he could stand in battle, the longer he could bring glory to his righteous cause.

His transactions complete here, he slipped the vial onto his belt and continued down the street, whistling quietly to himself. Some Dwarf standard, the lyrics had long been forgotten, but the tune had never left their collective memory. Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: .

He stopped short before the window of Herbert's Miscellany. Inside he saw, glowing faintly with the light of a fallen star, precisely what he'd wanted all this time. Stepping across the threshold, he approached the shopkeep and motioned over his shoulder with a movement of his head that caused Murray's jaw to bounce comically around Gabriel's face at the everlasting torch and the rations. 51 gold later, the dwarf tucked the light into his pack and moved to go about his business. He was half out the door when he noticed Herbert's small bin marked 'curiosities'.

A tear nearly slid down his cheek as he reached in and withdrew the biscuit. Stonemeal. It couldn't be. A dwarven delicacy his grandmother used to make. Most palettes couldn't tolerate the fierce flavours, but to Gabriel, to any dwarf, this was escargot. Or maybe duck liver pate. The point is, he was buying it. He was buying it right now. He barely let the shopkeep tell him the price before he wrapped it, with reverence, and slid it into his pack.

Nearly bumping into Brigid--in her new chainmail--on his way out, he indicated with a nod of his head the inn he'd seen on the way in. After their recent trials, all he wanted was a hot bowl of stew, an exceptionally tall mug of dark ale, and a bed that was more than a bedroll on a stone floor.

The bearded-wonder slipped into the inn, sliding his money for a few days of room and board across the counter to the inn keep. The man had helpfully scrawled his name on his shirt.

Hello My Name Is:
Jymmee

Very helpful. The dwarf inquired about dinner and then made for the steps. Reaching his assigned room he pulled Thomas from his backpack, looking around for a moment before he caught Jymmee coming up the steps.

"Oi there, Innkeep. You wouldn't have a place I could keep this for the night, would you mate?"

The Innkeep stared at him for a long few seconds before he replied, "let me ask you a question. When you came rolling in here, did you notice a sign out in front of my Inn that said Dead Skull-Stick Storage?"

The dwarf sighed and began to answer. "Jymmee, you know I ain't seen no... "

"Did you notice a sign out in front of my Inn that said Dead skull-stick Storage?"

There was a pause before the dwarf said "no. I didn't."

"You know WHY you didn't see that sign?" Persisted the innkeeper.

"Why?"

"'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead skull-sticks ain't my fucking business, that's why!"

The dwarf glared for a moment and grumbled "could have just said no" before he picked up Thomas and retired to his room until the dinner hour came around.

Purchase Healing Potion 50gp
Everlasting torch of light to bring light into the dark places of the earth 50gp
2 trail rations 1 gp
Stonethingy biscuit 30gp
Two nights in an inn with food and water and no dragons 1 gp.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

The dwarf was drawn towards the defense of Bordrin. It was the closest to true war listed, and Kord would surely heap strength and favour upon him when he brought glory to his god in battle.

However, Kord had no love for those that disturbed the rest of the honoured dead. A warrior should stay in the ground once he has fought his last, and Kord had no love for those that escaped the natural cycle of battle and death. However, he had no want for land. Land was for those looking to find their feet on solid ground, and his metal-shod soles screamed out for the uneven ground of the mercenary lifestyle.

"I say we retrieve the sword. If anyone would know what lousy dead-man-walking threw us in that pit, it would be a Lord. Or he would be able to point us in the right direction, at the very least."

He grinned and hefted his axe slightly.

"Though I've no problem if we separate some heads from some zombies en route."

I was speaking idiomatically.

Lenny here and I both think we should help this Lord, so as he can help us in return.

Most amazing jew boots