Dwarven Legion's of Haela
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((DEX Check (d20) : 18 + 3 = 21))
The bottle smashes up against the door frame as Ty slips out of the Boarshead.
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((Please Roll a Dex check to avoid being hit by said bottle of shiite wine))
Upon receiving the bottle of wine, an insult to any self respecting dwarf, Dwin launches it at the card-shuffling freak.
Sorry about the mess, Misty. I swore I wouldnt do that again…me apologies...
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*Foilir glances at Dwin. Slowly he pulls out a rock and puts the name of "Ty" at the top.
Tugging on his beard, he wonders what cells are open. Or maybe he will toss him in the cell with the deviant Orc, who was caught molesting Fine's farm animals.
He leans over to Dwin and says.*
" <d>We toss im in deh cell when he sober… Me nae want him too drunk teh remember what happen."
Then turning to Ty he smiles and claps
"Very very gud lad... Yeh is un of deh finest bards me has seen."
He motions to Misty to bring him more ale.</d>
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Shortly after Ty leaves, the incredibly loud laughter of the otherwise soft-spoken young druid can be heard all the way from the south fire, or possibly even outside the gates. It's hard to tell.
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Ty finishes laughing, wiping his mouth, once more, with the back of his hand and then rubbing his eyes to clear them of the tears. Hearing the noise of the breaking mug, he raises an eyebrow and glances over towards the two dwarves, smirking. He sees them exchange some dialogue in Dwarven, and nods almost imperceptively. Turning around in his seat, he takes up his mug of bear and puts it back down, empty.
Speaking in a lowered voice, he widens his smirk and mutters in Chondathan, "I don't speak a lick of Dwarven, but I fathom that means . . . " Throws his voice up an octave, "'Why, yes, I am an angry dwarf, surely I must display my anger in bouts of temper tantrums and vulgar insults' . . . " Dropping his voice down an octave lower than normal, he continues, "'Oh, yes, we are two angry dwarves and our rage must be known, so let us brush our beards with fervor!'"
Chuckling, Ty waves a hand to Misty and leans forward as she approaches, talking in the Common tongue, "Hey, Misty. An anonymous bottle of Elven Wine for the perturbed dwarves over there, eh?" He hands her five gold coins, for his drink and the wine, and stands, stretching his back and cracking his knuckles. "I do believe I shall find Oreth and share my amusement with him."
Ty swaggers from the bar, moving at a very slight haste.
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A second dwarf, seated next to the first nods in agreement
[d] I wonder how well he shuffles them cards when they are stuck halfway up his arse…
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:: a thick man with runic tattoos about his bald head glares at the hysterical man as he spills BEER about the table and floor ::
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Watching from a corner, a dwarf's eyes narrow at the sound of the skinny's voice. He grits his teeth and grips his ale mug tighter and tighter, until finally it breaks into pieces sending ale flying.
" <d>Stay yeh tongue er me trade yeh head fer a slice of boar."</d>
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_Ty, while carousing in the Boarshead with the common folk of Norwick, catches wind of the Haelan army's cessation of march, Rando's death in Jandor's office, that Jandor came to a treaty with the dwarves, and Rando's exile from the town.
Banging his hand on the table, a raucous amount of laughter explodes out of Ty; his shoulders shake tremendously, and tears eventually come to the corners of his eyes in his apparent, extreme merriment. Putting his head down on the table in his folded arms, he attempts to muffle the uncontrollable chortles and guffaws, accidently spilling someone's ale in the process.
Throwing his head back, looking toward the ceiling, he bites his lips and blows a few laughs out of his nose, then grabs up his watery beer and takes a long pull; sighing contentedly, still tittering now and then, he grins like a hyena and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Eventually, he gets out, between chuckles, a few words_:
"They . . . They gave 'em . . . Rando's head – HAH! Oh, sweet Tymora's coin, they gave 'em Rando's head! That . . . that—so much respect for Jandor, now—heh, heh—And, he's not allowed in town! How the great have fallen—hah—how Tymora's coin flips." Tyche takes a breath and gulps down more beer. "Heh, heh—Tymora's coin! Rando's head! O-o-o-oh, I am so amused—so amused."
Raising a hand, Ty shouts, slurring slightly, "Barbarian law for life! Whoo!"
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after hearing the news, Anderek wondered to himself what sort of terms would convince the priestess to turn back an army that has already been assembled and put to march
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(( Don't worry Seraph, I'll provoke another war! ))
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((DAMNIT! lol))