JonDixonYT

Filthy bags of bones! Grubar shouts, swinging around to make sure that Yllaora is still with him. He had never fought any undead before, only heard stories of twisted men using them to try and steal riches from the dwarves. Thus, he had a deep seated hate for them, despite never having met them in battle before. It felt good to chop two of them down, but he knew that they would have to get rid of the leader if they were to have any chance at this fight. What's to say that he couldn't just re-animate these ones that Grubar had chopped down already? Come lass, let's go and get that gnome! He continues to try to make his way towards Venethe, making sure to stay with Yllaora so they can watch each other's backs. HP:8/13 AC:5

Grubar looks to the others after the vision, to see if they had experienced the same. What in the depths was that all about? What did that silly elf get us into? he thinks to himself, before the surroundings bring him back into the present. He sees Yllaora and...a naked child? I should have never left the hills he thinks, listening to the woman speak. At that moment, the skeletons being their macabre dance. Could this child be somehow related to the skeletons? As the maniacal skeleton king spouts off his drivel, Grubar readies his axe. He had never found from the back of a beast before, but he couldn't risk the vagabond running away and leaving him with his trousers down with all these skeletons. Have you any magic in your fantastic weave for this, elf? he spits out. You know where we could be right now? In a warm inn, with some warm stew and a cool ale, instead of here, with deranged skeletons and devil children. By the hammer.... he grumbles and trails off. He notes the aggression in Yllaora's stance and will follow her into the fray, if she goes that way. HP:8/13 AC:5

Grubar listened with one ear for most of the ride, the rest of his concentration on staying on the pony. His ears did perk up at the discussions of histories though. How much to reveal, he pondered as he listened to the others. As I said at the inn, I'm from the hills to the north. My family fell on some rough times, used to be that you couldn't get a ruby or an emerald that my father hadn't pulled from the rock... his voice trails off. But, now that's changed. I spent some time as a mason's apprentice...and then I discovered that I could handle the surface better than some dwarves, a low chuckle, fishing, of all things. Once my time as a mason was up, I left the hills to search for...something more up here. When they stop, a loud guffaw escapes his lips. Sleep, out here...like an orc? He is astonished. Why would anyone want to sleep under....that, he says, pointing meekly at the sky. It could spit anything onto you at any time. Nay, to an inn I say, where we can get a drink. Speaking of, do any of you have any ale? he asks, hoping to save what's left in his skin for an emergency. Before he can get an answer, Fig points out the lights, and then before he knows what's happening, everyone has taken off. Hey, he yells, trying to coax the pony faster without falling off, wait for me you filthy little vagabond, who's going to save your skin when the goblins that are up there try to skewer you on their spears?!?! HP:8/13 AC:5

present!

I'm around either way, I can post whenever things get rolling. Happy American Turkey Day!

Sorry I didn't get a post in between those DM posts, work is effing bananas at the moment. But I should be able to keep up - I'll let you know if I need a breather Rathrune. I don't expect to though, unless another project gets dropped on my desk.

Grubar stares at the woman. The elfish woman. Who in all the deep taught this elf dwarven? He thought to himself. Perhaps she is trustworthy, if some dwarf thought her trustworthy enough to teach her our tongue...he continues to stare at her as his mind churns through these thoughts. Then he catches himself, "Oh, uh, Huglgla to you as well," he replies. "If its alright with you, I'd like to stick to common, unless its to make fun of the charlatan," his eyes move to Fig after a quick wink in Calista's direction. His eyes move back to her, "are you a healer? I've still not fully recovered from yesterday's ordeal. Perhaps if we get a chance you can have a look and see if you can mend me up a bit more. The better shape I'm in, the more help I'll be should we stumble across some trouble..." Grubar stands and looks at the pony. He is absolutely dreading getting onto another animal. He's not so wounded that he will be able to blame his lack of riding skills on not being able to carry himself. He takes a small step towards the pony, squinting at it and talks to it softly. "Alright...there....boy...now, we're just going to have to get through this together. I don't want to ride you, but since I can't keep up to these other beasts, I guess we just don't have a choice. Now...just..." he reaches for a bit of feed, taking the giant's advice and slowly holding his hand out to the horse. The horse's coarse tongue tickles his hand and he inadvertently lets out a giggle. An extremely rare dwarf giggle. He turns immidiately, his face crimson under his thick beard, to see if anyone had noticed. Harumph, he grumbles, turning back to the horse. As he turns, he's gotten close to the horse and he feels the coarse, warm, wet tongue on his face. Ho! he shouts, stumbling backwards, stepping into a bucket and falling down backwards, making an awful racket . There is no way that went unnoticed. He gets up, picking straw from his hair and beard. How in the blazes did he get any in his beard?!? He grabs some more feed, determined to master this beast. If that pirate can ride these things, there is no way that Grubar will fail. He makes sure to stand as far as possible from the horse's mouth, holding out his hand full of feed. "Fool me once, shame on you, you bugger..." he mumbles to the pony... HP:5/13 AC:5

Grubar grunts to himself, his brow furrowing. "Perhaps if you spent more time learning about this so-called 'weave' and less time pirating around the ocean we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with," he says. "Leave it to an elf to dabble in things he doesn't understand. But, what's done is done and I suppose there's nothing left to do besides go and dispose of these poisons. Captain, have you any supplies that could help us along the way? Perhaps some healing potions or, even better, some antidotes to these poisons?" Finishing his meal, Grubar stands and checks his skin to make sure that its full of ale before they set out again while gathering the rest of his supplies.

I don't go to the gym because I'm a cheap ass, but I do referee women's hockey at the local rink, and there is a gym on the second floor behind one of the nets with big windows that overlook the ice. The number of dudebuds that I see standing in front of that window ripping off curls while I'm reffing is hilarious. There are about 2-3 times as many up there, curling in front of the windows as when the men play their games on the same ice.

Yarg, I've just about given up on word processing - let me know if the limited amount of formatting/prettiness of that post is not enough and I'll continue the search.

Grubar raises from bed at the rustling around of the room. He feels better than the day before, although that isn't saying much. He climbs out of the bed and puts his armour on. It seemed like forever ago, but yesterday putting on his armour had saved his life. He nods to the gnome as he sits and begins to eat a hearty breakfast, while listening to the Captain. Remember when the horses and the warriors were turned into frogs. Yesterday, Venethe had said that to him just after he awoke. He had meant to talk to Fig about it, but had forgotten last night. As he is mulling those words over, the vision that he had had at the game came back to him. Drunken silliness with Fig and Yllaora....and Fig doing some sort of magic trick. He furrows his brow in thought, pushing the thoughts aside for the time being as he listens to the Captain implore the group for help. He finishes the plate of food as the Captain finishes speaking. "Aye, I'll do what I can. I would most like to be back in the hills, away from this kingdom and its troubles, but since I'm here and you've helped me, the least I can do is return the favour. It would be best if we could visit with a healer before we depart though, I feel much better this morn, but I'l still not at my best. Do you know where I could find one, Captain?" Another Elf in the group? Grubar scowls to himself. More silliness, no doubt. Probably another pirate. I wonder if this one will be dressed up in green tights and have a wooden sword. Silly elves refusing to grow up... This train of thought stops as Grubar looks to Fig. What memories do you have of the night before last? Our sturdy gnome here asked me a question yesterday, something I said: remember when the horses and the warriors were turned into frogs. Yesterday, as we arrived at the gates, I had a memory of us drinking the night before last, and you mentioned something about a magic trick. Surely, these things must be related? No one had ever accused Grubar of being incredibly intelligent, and it is obvious that he is just now coming to this conclusion. HP:5 AC:5

Do it, but rock full mast the whole time, so no has any need to question.

I'm going to watch this one - Corey if you need/would like another player I'd throw my hat into the ring to fill whatever role may be required. Either way, looks like a fun game!

I've got the same bike!! Here she is alongside the Yukon River. I love riding it. Also, here is my most recent addition, the bike I'm slowly converting to my commuter. I've cleaned her up and put a new and new tires on. Its way faster than my old commuter, an old hard tail that I had with smoother than knobby tires. Sadly, the commuting season is quickly drawing to a close around here.

"A musty hole in the ground?!" The incredulity is evident on Grubar's face. He stands up from the table, the ale tankard in his hand and begins pacing. "The ingenuity of dwarves has persevered over the problem of air circulation underground, and that is why no dwarf settlements are 'musty holes in the ground.' 40 years is just long enough to become competent at something. You have yourself a trade. Its a silly one, on a silly little boat, but a trade nonetheless." Grubar stops his pacing and looks to Fig, thinking of his own apprenticeship, ended just as he had finished. Just as he was learning to fashion useful and beautiful things from the stone all around him, he was forced to leave. He clamps his mouth shut and returns to his seat. "I'll never understand elves and their ceaseless wandering. Find something to do and do it well." he grumbles to himself as he returns to his seat. To have a hearth and a home, that would be just about perfect right now. No silly human drama, no silly elves and their pointless wandering, just a warm home, a wife, family all around...that is all that Grubar could ask for right now. His family flashes into his mind and he wonders what's happened to them since he left. He lifts the tankard to his lips and takes a pull, sighing as he lowers it back to the table. He turns his head to Yllaora. His brain reaches back to what she had said. Flying. If ever there was something that people were not meant to do, that was it. "Flying? Like on the back of a bird? Oy, lass, best thank whatever god you pray to that you aren't still doing that. Those beasts are unpredictable." Grubar shudders at the thought. "People shouldn't even be on those insufferable beasts we rode here, let alone a giant bird with killer talons and beak." He slowly lifts the tankard to his mouth again taking a small sip. "I come from the hills north of here, just at the feet of the mountains. I'm a stonemason by trade, although in truth I've only spent four years plus my apprenticeship, so not even quite a journeyman yet. But its good work, creating something from the earth around you." He eyes move to Fig again briefly then back to Yllaora. "I've also spent some time with our war party, wandering the surface, looking for orcs and goblins. Vile creatures, those. I've never seen an eagle big enough for me to ride, let alone you." Grubar purposefully leaves out any mention of gems, not yet ready to divulge that part of his history. He slowly tears a chunk of roast of and pops it into his mouth, deep in thought. This is not a great start to finding the riches he needs to return his family to their former status. Having said that, there is no way he can walk away from this group of people, not after what they've been through together to date. Not after Yllaora cared for him. Not until he had taught that scoundrel the joy of a hard day's work. Well, that may never happen.