Valamir, Irčne, and Zuberi
Sewers, Dockway
The southernmost goblin stares at Zuberi, mouth agape and finger still plunged deep into his flared nostril. The one just behind is far better prepared. Despite his trousers falling down around his ankles in his surprise, he leaps out of them and sets on Zuberi in a frenzy of claws and fangs. As the monster's jagged black claws raked across unprotected skin, Zbueri would perhaps recall that goblins weren't supposed to have dirty yellow fingernails instead of claws.
Still safe on the other side of the column, the last goblin merely lets out a deranged cackle and sequels, "**** him up, Zog!"
Spoiler: OOC
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Zuberi takes 5 damage. The party may now act. Only Goblin 3 (southernmost) has not acted this round and remains flat footed.
Spoiler: Valamir
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Now close enough to inspect the goblins better, Valamir can see that the goblins are hunched with overlarge shoulders and bulging muscles. Their fingers end in long claws and they don't appear to have any weapons on them. They wear tough boiled leather shirts beneath their rags.
Vai
Six's Tower, Outside Magnimar
The raven stares at Vai's possessions for several long seconds before he squawks and ruffles his feathers. Clearly agitated, he flies back to the open window to speak with its master. A minute passes before the red door creeks open. A mess of wavy black hair peers out, attached to a pale thin face with a patchy beard. "Yes, yes, come in then. Don't just hang on my doorstep like you're confused encyclopedia saleswomen. Biscuits? I mean... have you got any because I'm out. Haven't done the shopping since... what day is it?"
Leaving the door open, the man retreats into the tower. The first floor is devoted to a cozy sitting room with mismatched but comfortable looking furniture. Books and assorted papers, fliers and scrolls are strewn about. One leather bound tome has been wedged under the couch cushions; the spine reads: The Lost Art of Reading Troll Entrails. Over the mantle, there's an enormous oil painting of a nude woman sprawling over a bear skin rug. A roaring, heat-less fire is in the hearth.
"You'll have tea, won't you? Course you'll have tea. You're civilized people! Civilized people take afternoon tea. Erm. Morning tea?"
He scrambles for some teacups from the top cupboard. His already too-short silk robe inches up uncomfortably far as he strains to reaches for the good porcelain.
Shimura
Alabaster District
The boy gawks at Shimura, trying his best to look positively shocked. "You mean to say that a tall, dark and handsome gentleman such as yourself cannot secure a date, even with short notice? You, sir? A fine upstanding member of high society such as yourself who walks little old ladies across the street and pays his taxes on time? Oh, I refuse to believe that sir. You'd best buy a second ticket just in case some beauty throws herself at you on the way to the event!"
He tears off two billetts from his book and offers them over. "Two gold, sir. Best seats in the stadium! You won't regret it."
Re: Peril and Fame (IC)
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