RollPlay -- D&D Campaign Show - Page 24

Beleaguered gnomes bustle about the brimming tavern, toting tankards of ale for their thirsty guests. A portly innkeeper rests behind the bar, polishing glasses with a greasy rag. The tavern is teeming with travelers seeking sanctuary from the autumn chill. They rest near the roaring fire of the tavern, that illuminates the room, casting heavy shadows onto the walls. An Elven woman dances slowly in the corner, captivating her crowd of drunken colleagues.

A naturally nervous gnome scurries his way through the disorderly drunkards only to have his tankard of ale taken from his grasp. He turns to face this ale-stealing fiend, only to find in its place, an oversized half ogre, with his back turned towards him. The gnome sighs sorrowfully, and embarks once again on his journey back to the bar.

The half-ogre sits at the table,dawning pink boots, and drenching his black braided beard in ale, as he devours it. Next to the ogre resides a battle-worn warrior, sharpening his sword, wearing his full suit of armor, as well as a multitude of weapons. Across from the warrior, sits an innocent-looking elf, with long blonde hair, and fiery red eyes. And seated next to her is a tall, ruggedly handsome elf with short blonde hair, and pale green eyes,.

“Hey, Tudabug, grab me one of those,” the female elf points at the tankard of ale in the half-ogre’s hand.

Tudagub lowers the tankard to the table, and stares blankly at Abigael, before slowly returning it to his mouth, and engorging it once again.

Abigael stares angrily at Tudagub, and then comments in Elvish, about the selfishness of the chubby ogre.

Bregor smiles as he stands up from the seat next to Abigail and approaches the portly innkeeper. “Would you happen to have any Elvish wine?” he inquires as he leans against the bar.

The heavy-set innkeeper disappears beneath the bar for a brief moment, and returns with a bottle in hand. Bregor hands the man some silver, and makes his way back to the table.

Vincent Longborn, while sharpening his sword, looks at the barkeeper, and back at his half-ogre companion, “Hey Tubagut, the barkeeper is shaped just like you. Maybe you guys are so similarly shaped, because of all of the drinking.”

Tudagub releases a large belch, and places one of his hands on his gut, “There could just be a lot of muscle under here, for all you know.” He belches again, “A lot of muscle,” and raises the tankard to his mouth once more.

Before Bregor takes his seat at the table with his companions, an older man, with graying hair and bright red robes burst in the door of the tavern, and walks towards the innkeeper. Bregor’s companions notice that something has caught their Elf companion’s attention, and turn their heads, to see for themselves what has captured his attention. The group looks on as the man speaks with the innkeeper. After a couple of seconds, the barkeeper points in the direction of the group. The man in the red robe peers at the group, then looks back to the innkeeper. The innkeeper nods, and the red-robed man shakes his hand, and makes his way towards the group.

Bregor takes his seat among his friends.

The man in the red robe approaches the group. With a puzzled look on his face, the man motions towards the group and asks, “Might I be correct in assuming, that you four are swords for hire?”

Tudagub stares at the man silently, then turns and searches the crowd for a tankard of ale floating through the crowds. He sees one within reach, and plucks it from the tiny hands of another gnome. He glares at Bregor, and then begins devouring the ale once again. Bregor looks at the group, and then back at the man, “We may be, if the price is right.”

The man sort of stumbles backwards and begins, “Well, recently my family home in the hills was attacked by a pack of goblins. They have taken everything from me. I was hoping I could persuade you to get it back.”

Vincent takes a moment from sharpening his sword. He looks at Bregor and nods his head. Bregor returns the notion, and Vincent returns to the task of sharpening his sword. Bregor asks the man, “How much would you be willing to give us for our troubles?”

“Well, umm, you can have whatever money you find on them. Whether it was mine, or someone else’s, you can have it. They stole a lot from our house, and whatever they took you can have, but I would like the actual possessions back, you can keep the money.”

Tudagub removes the tankard from his lips, and belches in the direction of the man. Bregor steps between the man and Tudagub, “Forgive his rudeness...”

The man, clearly flustered, points at Tudagub, “Well, well, wel... they took all of my stuff, and money. That’s why I am here, asking you to get it back. I can pay you with all of the money they have stolen from me.”

Tudagub addresses the man, “When you say ‘stuff’ what exactly do you mean? What items did they take from you?”

The man in the red robes replied, “Well, they took a couple family heirlooms, a sword, and an old crystal ball. I don’t know what it does, but its been passed from generation to generation in my family you see. They took all kinds of silverware...”

Bregor turns to Tudagub, “Just look at his robes you drunkard. He is obviously somewhat wealthy. We might be able to make some decent coin from this.”

The man continues to list off the items stolen from his household, and Tudagub interrupts, “The ball. The crystal ball. I want it. Give it to us if we find it.”

The man, a bit taken back by what the ogre has suggested, “No. No no no no no. No. That is one of the items I want you to get back for me the most. I...”

Tudagub retorts, “You don’t even know what it does.”

“It’s been in my family for 300 generations. It’s mine and I want it.” The man crosses his arms and glares at the massive drunk ogre.

“Well, can I at least see it? When we find it can I take a look at it?”

The throws his arms in the air, “Well, you would definitely see it at some point, between finding it and bringing it to me, will you not?”

Tudagub rubs his chin. After a brief moment he nods, and returns to gorging on his ale. His companions all nod in agreement, and accept the man’s proposal. The man gives them any ideas he has as to where the goblins might be holed up.

“Well, I’ll see you all back here in four, maybe five days?”

Tudagrub lets out another belch, and follows it with a big smile.

“Excellent.” The man replies as he waves a hand in front of his nose.The man in the red robes leave reluctantly, constantly looking back at the group. He continues to shake his head, and talk to himself as he leaves the tavern, looking back occasionally at the group of companions.

The companions sit at the table, discussing their newly accepted mission. Vincent, takes a break from sharpening his sword, and sheaths it. He then stands up, and begins walking towards the dancing elf. He approaches her, as as much charm as he can muster and says to the girl, “You’re pretty. Would you like to have sex?.” He raises one his eyebrows, and gives a half smile as he slowly nods his head.

While this is going on, his companions, including the drunk halfogre, begin laughing loudly at their table. They all stare at Vincent, and the dancing girl, anxious to see how this turns out for their friend.

The girl blushes, and smiles back at Vincent. “I get off soon.”

“Oh, you will, I assure you.” He winks at the girl, and hands her a key to his room. He then struts his way back to the table where his friends are seated.

Abigael interrogates him as he takes his seat next to Tudagub, “Do you think this is wise? We are going on a quest tomorrow. Don’t you need your rest?”

“Some things are more invigorating than sleep. Don’t you worry about me.” Vincent pulls out his sword again, and prepares to begin sharpening it once again, when Tudagub gives him a fist bump. Tudagub then rises out of his chair, and stumbles his way up the stairs and into his room, passing out almost immediately. Vincent returns all of his focus to sharpening his sword.

After an hour, Vincent notices, as several other men approach the dancing girl, and carry on conversations with her. He notices her smiling, as well as the resemblance between their interactions to his initial interaction with her. He approaches the dancing girl once again, “Are you ready to go upstairs?”

She blushes and responds to Vincent, “Well there are some people I still need to talk to, give me a bit of time, and your room number, and I’ll meet you up there shortly.”

Vincent nods and turns towards the stairs. He trudges up the stairs and into his room.

Noticing that Vincent was going upstairs and to bed, Abigael turns to Bregor and asks, “So, do you think you are going to be turning in any time soon?”

In elvish he responds, “Steal whatever you want. I don’t care, in fact I’ll even try to help.”

Abigael blushes at Bregor’s recognition of what was going on in her mind.In elvish she asks him, “Well, do you see anything that you think I could steal?”

“Actually, there is a dwarven merchant over there. He has something gold in his hands, and he keeps turning it over and
over. Maybe you should try to get that?”

“Well how can we distract him so that I...”

Bregor interrupts her, “We? I think you and the ferret can handle this,” and he motions at Mr. Muggwuggles, Abigael’s ferret.

“Alright Mr. Muggwuggles, any suggestions?” she addresses her ferret who is standing on the table in front of her. In response, he raises one of his front paws. “Let’s try it,” she affirms. She then rises from her seat and grabs Mr. Muggwuggles from the table and slowly approaches the dwarven merchant. “Hello, would you like to high-five my ferret?”

“Get that filthy disgusting creature away from me before it gets me sick!” he scoffs at her.

Abigael begins to slowly backpedal away from the dwarven merchant, as he stares at her suspiciously and tightens his grip on the golden object in his hands.

Abigael sits back down at her seat next to Bregor, “Maybe next time,” with her head bowed in shame.

“That was a pretty lame attempt,” Bregor laughs as he speaks in elvish to his companion. “Well, as entertaining as that was, I am ready for some sleep, have anymore brilliant plans?”

Abigael rises from her seat and trudges her way up the stairs and into her room, all the while her head still bowed in shame.

Bregor follows her up the stairs, and walks to his own room.

All of the companions sleep in their beds, and after a couple of hours have passed, Abigael rises from her bed, and creeps towards her room’s door. She slowly opens the door and peeks her head out, scanning the halls for any people. Once she thinks the coast is clear, she slowly makes her way back to the bottom of the stairs. Once she gets there she notices the innkeeper is still awake, and is reading a parchment by candle light near the bar.

Abigael slowly begins creeping her way towards the shelves behind and underneath the bar. She steps as lightly as she can, and sticks to the shadows as much as possible, trying her hardest to be as stealthy as she can. The entire time she is making her way there, all her mind keeps focusing on are the unlikeliness of her success. Her mind torments her with endless thoughts of being caught, but no matter how conflicted she is, she cannot fight her kleptomaniacal tendencies. When she is only feet away from the bar, she opens up the pouch she carries, and Mr. Muggwuggles jumps out of the pouch and onto the ground. Mr. Mugwuggles then makes a dash towards the rear side of the bar, but is noticed by the innkeeper, who grabes a knife from the top of the bar, and begins to chase the ferret shouting, “VERMIN!”
Abigael’s eyes open wide, and she slowly creeps back to the top of the stairs. Once she reaches the stop, she begins stomping her feet, and then walks as loudly as possible down the stairs into the main hall of the tavern, “Oh my god, my ferret escaped my room! I am so sorry!” and she runs over and scoops up Mr. Muggwuggles who dives back into the pouch hanging from her shoulders.

“This..this is your filthy creature?” he demands as he waves the knife at Abigael.

“Yes, he escaped my room. I guess I did not close the door very well.” she responds with her voice shaking.

The innkeeper shakes his head, “Well take that thing back upstairs, and make sure your room is closed up right this time!”

Abigael turns and trudges up the stairs once more, her head bowed in shame again at her failure. She walks into her room, and closes the door tightly. She lies down and falls asleep.

Several hours later, the sun has risen, and with it our heroes. They all make their way down the stairs and into the main hall, where they all enjoy a portion of breakfast, except for the hal-fogre who helps himself to four portions, as well as an entire flask of wine.

After breakfast, and a brief discussion of what happened the night before, the adventurers begin their trek to where the red robed man hinted that the goblins might be. As they trek towards the goblin hideout, they notice a small child running towards all of them. Tudagub, takes another drink from one of his flasks of wine, and continues walking, completely ignoring the small child running towards the party. Bregor looks at Abigael and jokingly remarks, “Hey, maybe you can finally steal something?” and Vincent takes this time to unsheath his sword and begin sharpening it once more.

The small child, panting and out of breath addresses the two elfs and Vincent, “Where are you all going?”

Abigael takes a step towards the gasping child, “Why does it matter where we are going?”

The boy takes a step backwards and motions towards the town, “The guards. The guards asked me to ask you why you were headed this way.”

Vincent looks up from sharpening his sword, “State your business kid, or scram!”

The child’s face lights up, and he begins to stutter when Bregor steps in, “We are travelers, and it is time that we move on.”

The child steps away from Vincent and towards Bregor, “B,b,but its dangerous that way. There are goblins about.”
Vincent sheaths his sword, and begins to follow behind the half-ogre. In the distance he sees Tudagub raise a flask of wine, and motion his arm like he is saying something to him.

Bregor then turns and follows Vincent.

Abigael removes Mr. Muggwuggles from his pouch and holds him out to the small child, “High five my ferret!”

The child, with mouth agape, obliges.

Abigael then turns and follows the rest of her companions as they trek farther away from the town.

After a couple of hours of the party traveling, they come to the opening of some sort of cave. In front of the cave, they see two goblins, presumably standing guard. As soon as the group catches sight of the goblins, Vincent immediately draws a dagger from his pack, and attempts to throw it at the goblins. Before he can follow through with the throw, he feels his arm being held back. He turns to see Bregor holding his arm back. Vincent looks at Bregor with a confused look.

Bregor addresses the group, “I think, maybe we should all prepare, and launch our attacks simul...”

While Bregor addresses the group, Tudagub plops onto the ground, and removes a new flask of wine from his belt.

Bregor continues, “except Tudagub, because he doesn’t have any attacks he can launch from here.”

Beleaguered gnomes bustle about the brimming tavern, toting tankards of ale for their thirsty guests. A portly innkeeper rests behind the bar, polishing glasses with a greasy rag. The tavern is teeming with travelers seeking sanctuary from the autumn chill. They rest near the roaring fire of the tavern, that illuminates the room, casting heavy shadows onto the walls. An Elven woman dances slowly in the corner, captivating her crowd of drunken colleagues.

A naturally nervous gnome scurries his way through the disorderly drunkards only to have his tankard of ale taken from his grasp. He turns to face this ale-stealing fiend, only to find in its place, an oversized half ogre, with his back turned towards him. The gnome sighs sorrowfully, and embarks once again on his journey back to the bar.

The half-ogre sits at the table,dawning pink boots, and drenching his black braided beard in ale, as he devours it. Next to the ogre resides a battle-worn warrior, sharpening his sword, wearing his full suit of armor, as well as a multitude of weapons. Across from the warrior, sits an innocent-looking elf, with long blonde hair, and fiery red eyes. And seated next to her is a tall, ruggedly handsome elf with short blonde hair, and pale green eyes,.

“Hey, Tudabug, grab me one of those,” the female elf points at the tankard of ale in the half-ogre’s hand.

Tudagub lowers the tankard to the table, and stares blankly at Abigael, before slowly returning it to his mouth, and engorging it once again.

Abigael stares angrily at Tudagub, and then comments in Elvish, about the selfishness of the chubby ogre.

Bregor smiles as he stands up from the seat next to Abigail and approaches the portly innkeeper. “Would you happen to have any Elvish wine?” he inquires as he leans against the bar.

The heavy-set innkeeper disappears beneath the bar for a brief moment, and returns with a bottle in hand. Bregor hands the man some silver, and makes his way back to the table.

Vincent Longborn, while sharpening his sword, looks at the barkeeper, and back at his half-ogre companion, “Hey Tubagut, the barkeeper is shaped just like you. Maybe you guys are so similarly shaped, because of all of the drinking.”

Tudagub releases a large belch, and places one of his hands on his gut, “There could just be a lot of muscle under here, for all you know.” He belches again, “A lot of muscle,” and raises the tankard to his mouth once more.

Before Bregor takes his seat at the table with his companions, an older man, with graying hair and bright red robes burst in the door of the tavern, and walks towards the innkeeper. Bregor’s companions notice that something has caught their Elf companion’s attention, and turn their heads, to see for themselves what has captured his attention. The group looks on as the man speaks with the innkeeper. After a couple of seconds, the barkeeper points in the direction of the group. The man in the red robe peers at the group, then looks back to the innkeeper. The innkeeper nods, and the red-robed man shakes his hand, and makes his way towards the group.

Bregor takes his seat among his friends.

The man in the red robe approaches the group. With a puzzled look on his face, the man motions towards the group and asks, “Might I be correct in assuming, that you four are swords for hire?”

Tudagub stares at the man silently, then turns and searches the crowd for a tankard of ale floating through the crowds. He sees one within reach, and plucks it from the tiny hands of another gnome. He glares at Bregor, and then begins devouring the ale once again. Bregor looks at the group, and then back at the man, “We may be, if the price is right.”

The man sort of stumbles backwards and begins, “Well, recently my family home in the hills was attacked by a pack of goblins. They have taken everything from me. I was hoping I could persuade you to get it back.”

Vincent takes a moment from sharpening his sword. He looks at Bregor and nods his head. Bregor returns the notion, and Vincent returns to the task of sharpening his sword. Bregor asks the man, “How much would you be willing to give us for our troubles?”

“Well, umm, you can have whatever money you find on them. Whether it was mine, or someone else’s, you can have it. They stole a lot from our house, and whatever they took you can have, but I would like the actual possessions back, you can keep the money.”

Tudagub removes the tankard from his lips, and belches in the direction of the man. Bregor steps between the man and Tudagub, “Forgive his rudeness...”

The man, clearly flustered, points at Tudagub, “Well, well, wel... they took all of my stuff, and money. That’s why I am here, asking you to get it back. I can pay you with all of the money they have stolen from me.”

Tudagub addresses the man, “When you say ‘stuff’ what exactly do you mean? What items did they take from you?”

The man in the red robes replied, “Well, they took a couple family heirlooms, a sword, and an old crystal ball. I don’t know what it does, but its been passed from generation to generation in my family you see. They took all kinds of silverware...”

Bregor turns to Tudagub, “Just look at his robes you drunkard. He is obviously somewhat wealthy. We might be able to make some decent coin from this.”

The man continues to list off the items stolen from his household, and Tudagub interrupts, “The ball. The crystal ball. I want it. Give it to us if we find it.”

The man, a bit taken back by what the ogre has suggested, “No. No no no no no. No. That is one of the items I want you to get back for me the most. I...”

Tudagub retorts, “You don’t even know what it does.”

“It’s been in my family for 300 generations. It’s mine and I want it.” The man crosses his arms and glares at the massive drunk ogre.

“Well, can I at least see it? When we find it can I take a look at it?”

The throws his arms in the air, “Well, you would definitely see it at some point, between finding it and bringing it to me, will you not?”

Tudagub rubs his chin. After a brief moment he nods, and returns to gorging on his ale. His companions all nod in agreement, and accept the man’s proposal. The man gives them any ideas he has as to where the goblins might be holed up.

“Well, I’ll see you all back here in four, maybe five days?”

Tudagrub lets out another belch, and follows it with a big smile.

“Excellent.” The man replies as he waves a hand in front of his nose.The man in the red robes leave reluctantly, constantly looking back at the group. He continues to shake his head, and talk to himself as he leaves the tavern, looking back occasionally at the group of companions.

The companions sit at the table, discussing their newly accepted mission. Vincent, takes a break from sharpening his sword, and sheaths it. He then stands up, and begins walking towards the dancing elf. He approaches her, as as much charm as he can muster and says to the girl, “You’re pretty. Would you like to have sex?.” He raises one his eyebrows, and gives a half smile as he slowly nods his head.

While this is going on, his companions, including the drunk halfogre, begin laughing loudly at their table. They all stare at Vincent, and the dancing girl, anxious to see how this turns out for their friend.

The girl blushes, and smiles back at Vincent. “I get off soon.”

“Oh, you will, I assure you.” He winks at the girl, and hands her a key to his room. He then struts his way back to the table where his friends are seated.

Abigael interrogates him as he takes his seat next to Tudagub, “Do you think this is wise? We are going on a quest tomorrow. Don’t you need your rest?”

“Some things are more invigorating than sleep. Don’t you worry about me.” Vincent pulls out his sword again, and prepares to begin sharpening it once again, when Tudagub gives him a fist bump. Tudagub then rises out of his chair, and stumbles his way up the stairs and into his room, passing out almost immediately. Vincent returns all of his focus to sharpening his sword.

After an hour, Vincent notices, as several other men approach the dancing girl, and carry on conversations with her. He notices her smiling, as well as the resemblance between their interactions to his initial interaction with her. He approaches the dancing girl once again, “Are you ready to go upstairs?”

She blushes and responds to Vincent, “Well there are some people I still need to talk to, give me a bit of time, and your room number, and I’ll meet you up there shortly.”

Vincent nods and turns towards the stairs. He trudges up the stairs and into his room.

Noticing that Vincent was going upstairs and to bed, Abigael turns to Bregor and asks, “So, do you think you are going to be turning in any time soon?”

In elvish he responds, “Steal whatever you want. I don’t care, in fact I’ll even try to help.”

Abigael blushes at Bregor’s recognition of what was going on in her mind.In elvish she asks him, “Well, do you see anything that you think I could steal?”

“Actually, there is a dwarven merchant over there. He has something gold in his hands, and he keeps turning it over and
over. Maybe you should try to get that?”

“Well how can we distract him so that I...”

Bregor interrupts her, “We? I think you and the ferret can handle this,” and he motions at Mr. Muggwuggles, Abigael’s ferret.

“Alright Mr. Muggwuggles, any suggestions?” she addresses her ferret who is standing on the table in front of her. In response, he raises one of his front paws. “Let’s try it,” she affirms. She then rises from her seat and grabs Mr. Muggwuggles from the table and slowly approaches the dwarven merchant. “Hello, would you like to high-five my ferret?”

“Get that filthy disgusting creature away from me before it gets me sick!” he scoffs at her.

Abigael begins to slowly backpedal away from the dwarven merchant, as he stares at her suspiciously and tightens his grip on the golden object in his hands.

Abigael sits back down at her seat next to Bregor, “Maybe next time,” with her head bowed in shame.

“That was a pretty lame attempt,” Bregor laughs as he speaks in elvish to his companion. “Well, as entertaining as that was, I am ready for some sleep, have anymore brilliant plans?”

Abigael rises from her seat and trudges her way up the stairs and into her room, all the while her head still bowed in shame.

Bregor follows her up the stairs, and walks to his own room.

All of the companions sleep in their beds, and after a couple of hours have passed, Abigael rises from her bed, and creeps towards her room’s door. She slowly opens the door and peeks her head out, scanning the halls for any people. Once she thinks the coast is clear, she slowly makes her way back to the bottom of the stairs. Once she gets there she notices the innkeeper is still awake, and is reading a parchment by candle light near the bar.

Abigael slowly begins creeping her way towards the shelves behind and underneath the bar. She steps as lightly as she can, and sticks to the shadows as much as possible, trying her hardest to be as stealthy as she can. The entire time she is making her way there, all her mind keeps focusing on are the unlikeliness of her success. Her mind torments her with endless thoughts of being caught, but no matter how conflicted she is, she cannot fight her kleptomaniacal tendencies. When she is only feet away from the bar, she opens up the pouch she carries, and Mr. Muggwuggles jumps out of the pouch and onto the ground. Mr. Mugwuggles then makes a dash towards the rear side of the bar, but is noticed by the innkeeper, who grabes a knife from the top of the bar, and begins to chase the ferret shouting, “VERMIN!”
Abigael’s eyes open wide, and she slowly creeps back to the top of the stairs. Once she reaches the stop, she begins stomping her feet, and then walks as loudly as possible down the stairs into the main hall of the tavern, “Oh my god, my ferret escaped my room! I am so sorry!” and she runs over and scoops up Mr. Muggwuggles who dives back into the pouch hanging from her shoulders.

“This..this is your filthy creature?” he demands as he waves the knife at Abigael.

“Yes, he escaped my room. I guess I did not close the door very well.” she responds with her voice shaking.

The innkeeper shakes his head, “Well take that thing back upstairs, and make sure your room is closed up right this time!”

Abigael turns and trudges up the stairs once more, her head bowed in shame again at her failure. She walks into her room, and closes the door tightly. She lies down and falls asleep.

Several hours later, the sun has risen, and with it our heroes. They all make their way down the stairs and into the main hall, where they all enjoy a portion of breakfast, except for the hal-fogre who helps himself to four portions, as well as an entire flask of wine.

After breakfast, and a brief discussion of what happened the night before, the adventurers begin their trek to where the red robed man hinted that the goblins might be. As they trek towards the goblin hideout, they notice a small child running towards all of them. Tudagub, takes another drink from one of his flasks of wine, and continues walking, completely ignoring the small child running towards the party. Bregor looks at Abigael and jokingly remarks, “Hey, maybe you can finally steal something?” and Vincent takes this time to unsheath his sword and begin sharpening it once more.

The small child, panting and out of breath addresses the two elfs and Vincent, “Where are you all going?”

Abigael takes a step towards the gasping child, “Why does it matter where we are going?”

The boy takes a step backwards and motions towards the town, “The guards. The guards asked me to ask you why you were headed this way.”

Vincent looks up from sharpening his sword, “State your business kid, or scram!”

The child’s face lights up, and he begins to stutter when Bregor steps in, “We are travelers, and it is time that we move on.”

The child steps away from Vincent and towards Bregor, “B,b,but its dangerous that way. There are goblins about.”
Vincent sheaths his sword, and begins to follow behind the half-ogre. In the distance he sees Tudagub raise a flask of wine, and motion his arm like he is saying something to him.

Bregor then turns and follows Vincent.

Abigael removes Mr. Muggwuggles from his pouch and holds him out to the small child, “High five my ferret!”

The child, with mouth agape, obliges.

Abigael then turns and follows the rest of her companions as they trek farther away from the town.

After a couple of hours of the party traveling, they come to the opening of some sort of cave. In front of the cave, they see two goblins, presumably standing guard. As soon as the group catches sight of the goblins, Vincent immediately draws a dagger from his pack, and attempts to throw it at the goblins. Before he can follow through with the throw, he feels his arm being held back. He turns to see Bregor holding his arm back. Vincent looks at Bregor with a confused look.

Bregor addresses the group, “I think, maybe we should all prepare, and launch our attacks simul...”

While Bregor addresses the group, Tudagub plops onto the ground, and removes a new flask of wine from his belt.

Bregor continues, “except Tudagub, because he doesn’t have any attacks he can launch from here.”