[DnD] Crusader (GFF D&D Adventure 2)

The dwarf rubbed the bridge of his nose as Argumentus walked past. The big man was right; silent, but right.

"I'm with the lummox. Let's go bed down at the inn for a day. Get some rest, clear our heads, and figure out where to go next in the morning. Or after a few mornings. Need to stock up, lose some weight in our packs. Point is, this place is not where we should be."

With that, the dwarf followed Argumentus. Patting the big bastard on the shoulder and glancing up skyward as he raised the small wrist-bound beads and said a silent thank-you to Kord for listening to his petition.

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

The dwarf paid for a few days at the inn upfront, and then slipped the inn keeper a gold piece to bar the door in his absence. Inside he left the plate mail, as Broden's didn't have any defining markings that would draw attention, and a pack that was 40 lbs lighter would be a boon.

Marching through the city of Freeport, the dwarf took stock of the passing people, the passing shops, trying to see if anyone was openly tailing them. If not, when they reached the HBA headquarters, he would comment to the drow.

"We've come to collect."

He put on his best gruff look and tried to look like a ruffian.

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

The dwarf wasn't going to remind everyone he said this was a bad idea. He wasn't going to say that. But he bloody well thought this was going to be a bad idea, didn't he? He glanced upwards and shook his head, thankful that he served a neutral god, rather than one with scruples.

"Well, this would make twice we'd be locked up for something we were only marginally involved in" he mused. "On the other hand, I'm sure this... pleasant man in his fine vestments means a paid favour. After all, when you're good at something, you never do it for free."

I was speaking idiomatically.

Originally Posted by Bradylama

Argumentus produces the sword from his pack and lays it down on the table. He keeps a firm grip on it so no one can take it away.

"Money."

"MONEY"

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

The dwarf was sullen throughout the horde's travels that day. The death of Broden weighed heavily on his conscience, but he did keep his mind on the tasks at hand long enough to swat Argumentus on the hip at one point and offer him the plate armour currently sitting behind a locked door in the Inn. With Broden's armour securely on his shoulders, he no longer needed it. And the big man could benefit from the added protection.

As the horde slid through the throng, Gabriel stopped by the weapon store and gawked at the Craghammer. It was the weapon he'd always wanted, but the faint glow of power around the opportunistic battle axe made him hesitant to give it up. He was a dwarf who preferred hammers, but he'd live with his axe for now. He did, however, take the time to point Mots at the Executioner's Axe, and tell him he should absolutely buy it.

His only other real stop was Vinely's, where he traded his amethyst for a pair of healing potions. Other than that, the dwarf was generally more gruff than usual, and rather insistent they got on with something to earn some money, and more importantly, keep him busy and his mind off what had just happened.

amethyst for two potions.

FELIPE NO

The dwarf smirked as he saw the choice made by the horde. It was precisely what he wanted: A chance to tip the scales back in return for what they'd been a part of. On to the cemetary.

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