The Era of Citadel: Citadel [IC]

[Theoboldi]

Answering the fairy by ever so slightly brightening his smile, Zom did his best not to show any reaction to Velduvian's words. Hopefully it would hurt his pride. "Thank you for listening, Cierrah. I wanted to just take a moment of your time to apologize.

Not for me, but for Nigel's earlier behaviour. When he reapproached the cage because he thought you were in danger, he showed a very clear misjudgement of your abilities. I do hope that, despite his misplaced heroism, you did not feel that he insulted your ability to fend for yourself when he forced help upon you that you did not ask for. Later, I'll have to spend a moment to reprimand him for his actions."

He gave a short, courteous bow before finishing his words. "That is all, or at least as much as I think his highness will allow. If you will excuse me now, it is time for me to return to my friends. Say what you want about that troll, he does brew up quite a good soup."

Zom meant his words as he said them. And though he partly also had returned to provoke Velduvian into further anger against him with them, that was just a lucky side-effect of his actions.

[Dycize]

"Hmm... But there was no mercy here. Unless you consider being sent alone in the Underdark without arms to be mercy. A simple execution might be favorable... But it all depends on how you see it. For one, I am favorable to such displays. Show your victory, strip your opponent of its pride then of his life, and keep the weaker minds busy."

He, again, marks a pause.

"But I digress. For a topic I do not care much about, I do talk a lot about it, hm? Ah, I appear to be doing it again."

His last words seemed... Playful. Kjalgaar looked like he was enjoying talking, and even more, awaiting the dragon's reaction.

[Comissar]

Scatha's eyes narrowed slightly, though in mirth or annoyance it was difficult to tell, "I believe you misunderstand me. Vlaade understands the rule, the display is for those who do not. The demonstration is not for those who see the true way of things."

[Dycize]

Kjalgaar frowned slightly.
"Ah so that is what you meant. Pardon the misunderstanding. But it seems we do share an opinion, afterall."
There was another pause.
"But I believe I have not introduced myself... I am Kjalgaar, should you find the necessity to call out my name."
He followed with a slight bow and kept on looking at the dragon.

[Prehysterical]

The events of the past few minutes have been sending the troll's mind in circles. After hearing the reports of the others, Nigel has no desire to go out into the square.

She got beat so easy... Does Vlaade have a fetish or something for cutting arms off?

An uncomfortable vision pops into Nigel's head of himself being trapped in Vlaade's sanctum, the dark elf's laughter echoing off the walls as the troll's arms are torn off, regenerated, and torn off again for the rest of his life...

Shuddering from the horror, Nigel turns to regard Mr. To- Kjaalgar, he reminded himself, only to find Ch'tikk asking about supper. Seeing that the frog-man was now conversing with the black dragon, Nigel rubs his chin as he considers his options. After the events of this afternoon, Humble Pie is the first thing that comes to mind. Get a hold of yourself, lad. Two things are for sure: Vlaade needs to go down, and marching right up to his front door is a stupid idea. Patience.

Pulling out his trusty cauldron, he makes use of his waterskin and magic mug to fill it up again. Nigel regards it for a moment before deciding on something more daring for this evening's meal. After dicing carrots and potatoes into the mix, he brings out the main ingredient from his magic bag: a pair of chuul arms, which he cracks open with his bare hand before carving the meat out of the inner shell and dumping it into the cauldron. Settling back into his familiar element, Nigel begins singing a ditty he had come up with while cooking food in the past:

Spoiler

Show

Craft (Cooking): (1d20+10)[11]
Obligatory Perform (Oral): (1d20-1)[5]

Spoiler: When the Kitchen Goes to Hell

Show

“Dear gods bless, what a right mess!
What happened here, pray tell?
Better start praying, or you’ll start paying,
when the kitchen goes to Hell!”

“Weeell… First I tried to make an olive black-eyed.
Or am I thinking of a pea?
Our stash of greens was very lean,
So I boiled ‘em up for tea!

Found some bugs under the rugs
and I squished ‘em up for juice!
Threw ash from a pyre into the fire
when it really needed spruce!

Woke up in the morn and tore the ears off corn;
I was in for a big surprise!
I’ll hear the screams in my dreams
After gouging out a potato’s eyes!

Well, that’s that, me lads, you heartless cads.
Go ahead and wish me well!
Come on down, join me underground,
in the kitchen down in Hell!”