[DnD] All In The Same Boat (GFF D&D Adventure 4)

The elf behind the counter slides the massive two-bladed sword across, looking skeptically at the heavy shield on Garrmondo's back.



A double weapon means Garrmondo's shield abilities are all fucked, it should be noted

FELIPE NO

Delic wanders into Mordenkainen's Magnificent Market, hiking his belt up and his thumbs through the hoops as he greets the man behind the counter.

"EXCUSE ME GOOD SIR, I WOULD LIKE TO BUY SOMETHING FROM YOUR FINE ESTABLISHMENT."

(Doubtless, the man behind the counter is not actually a man, but a mule from the stable adjacent to Mordenkainen's Magnificent Market.)

Nonplussed, Delic walks out of the smelly, grimey store after a stare-down of several minutes and then decides to go to Pay 'n Pray instead.

"EXCUSE ME GOOD SIR, I WOULD LIKE TO BUY SOMETHING FROM YOUR FINE ESTABLISHMENT. ONE POTION OF HEALING."

"WITH SPRINKLES."

Walking back out into the street, Delic struts into Albert's Miscellany. He quietly approaches the counter, trying not to make a scene.

"Did you know the fellow who runs Mordenkainen's is mute? Just how in the F'ronker of Oglash does he do business? ANYWAY, I would like two orders of trail rations. And a lute."

How ya doing, buddy?

1 Die Roll baby this is how I roll

Telling the shiny sword seller he can get bent, (only in not as many words) Garr waddled across the street to join up with Delic.

After waiting for his fellow beefmagnet to be done with his gossip, he looked at the man behind the counter, whom he's never met before, straight in the eye and said

"HELLO MY GOOD FRIEND, HOW IS MY FAVORITE STORE THAT I VISIT ALL THE TIME DOING? THIS ROUGH ECONOMY AIN'T GOT YOU DOWN, DOES IT? NO? THAT'S GOOD TO HEAR!

SADLY I AM NOT SO FORTUNATE, AND MY COIN PURSE (no, not that one, you fool) IS AS LIGHT AS MY ELVISH GIRLFRIEND IS BEAUTIFUL.

I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU COULD CUT A CLOSE FRIEND SUCH AS YOURS SOME SLACK? I NEED A DEAL, HOMEY"

Bluff check

"I'LL BE NEEDING THE FOLLOWING:

1x crowbar
1x drum
5x pint of oil
1x grappling hook
1x hammer"

"I ALSO NEED A SHIRT. JUST PLAIN OLD. Y'KNOW. SECOND OR THIRD HAND. I DON'T CARE. MIGHT EVEN SAY CLASS OF '23 ON IT, I CARE NOT. IF YOU DON'T GOT ONE, WHERE'S THE NEAREST YEE OLDE SALVATION ARMY OUTLET?"

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Seeing the pirate looking for some new clothes, I realised it had been a while since I updated my own image. Changing my robes or boots was out of the question since they were both magic and I had become rather fond of my hat. What I really needed though was a cloak, a mysterious swishy one ideally. I ambled round the shops, hoping to find something appropriate.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Having spent the better part of the afternoon shopping, Garr retreated the inn.

"Hello, good sir. I would like a room in which to stay. I have 4 companions with me, so I will need you to reserve as many single rooms. There is myself, another man named Delic, a slimy little person named....I dunno. Something. He smells like barf. You can't miss him. There is also some dishonourable dwarf and some hot piece of ass elf.

For our accomodations, I need you to assign me a room next to the elf, but assign the dwarf to a room as far away from the rest of us as possible. There's an extra couple of coins in it for you if you give him the basement broom closet.

We'll all be paying seperate, but here's the extra for giving that dwarf the one over."

Pay my way for the inn.
Bribe innkeeper an extra 3 GP to give Soggy the shitty room.

Upon entering his room, Garr carefully put his freshly bought supplies on the table.

Some inspiration had struck him today. He saw someone walking through town who looked like an old friend of his. One Richarde Deane Andersone. His friend was quite the inventor. Thinking back on this man and his ferocious hair style gave Garr the will to to continue with what he was going to do.

Putting the grappling hook so that the central stalk was overhanging the edge of the table, he used his new hammer to wail away on it until he had a sharp 90 degree bend in the metal that was parallel to the orientation (on the z axis) of one of the three metal hooks.

Repositioning the whole piece so that the afformentioned hook was strikable, he used his hammer to bend that hook until it was right up close to one of the others, essentially leaving the apparatus with two hooks instead of three.

Disassembling the drum was the next order of business. Only needing a few pieces of it, Garr carefully took it apart so he had some elastic material and a piece of tanned hide. The remaining wooden shell was of little use.

Using his sword to cut up the hide into a small section, and perforating two opposite edges with the pointy end of his crowbar, Garr affixed the bits of elastic to either end of the hide, and then the opposite ends of those onto one hook each of the ones remaining on his original grappling tool.

Grabbing the crowbar again, Garr laid out the five bottles of oil. Taking the caps off, he put one small hole in each using the sharp end of the implement.

Tearing the shirt up into 5 roughly equal pieces, Garr threaded them through the holes in the caps, before replacing the caps on the jars.

Stretching the elastic bit back a few times, Garr was proud of his handiwork.

But something was missing. The final step.

Garr went down stairs and saw the innkeeper at the front desk.

"Excuse me sir, can I borrow your writing tool?"

Running back to his room, Garr wrote THE FUCK YOU 1000 on the side of his new toy, and then returned the ink and quill to the innkeeper.

Tah-dah, one molotov cocktail launching slingshot

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