7
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Canary subtly looks over at Drakor’s and Rika’s conversation, through the group to make sure she doesn’t see- and staring more at Drakor to make sure if she does see that she’ll think Canary is looking at Drakor.
Which might slightly impact how well she actually sees Rika. But who knows.
Hi! To find out what I can do, say @discobot display help.
“Well, that’s rather vague.” If Paprika had a cat’s tail, she would have swished it in mild annoyance. This is the most natural method of communicating this sentiment for somebody who grew up roleplaying Warrior Cats. “Either you especially require the protection of the baron or you’re exceptionally distractable. I doubt you’d phrase it as protection if your family were merely tight on money.”
“As for your question, my memory is excellent.” (And fantasy France exists.) As Paprika speaks, she fiddles with her sleeves a bit in boredom. “Tell me about the weapons you’re carrying.”
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(U see the this also:)
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Drakor brightened. “Ah, yes. This here is a very high quality falchion.” He gestured to the large sword at his waist. “A two-hander, of course. Big problems require big solutions.”
He unrolled a sling from his belt. “Of course, range is also very important. Ammunition for this thing is practically free, and it does a lot of damage for how compact it is.”
He nodded to the greataxe on his back. “This is my father’s greataxe. I mostly use it for crowd control, though admittedly a halberd or a staff would be a significant upgrade. Still, my father killed a dragon with it when I was three, so I’m not getting rid of it.”
He tapped a small dagger at his belt. “This is a dueling dagger. I like to use it in my off hand - helps me parry strikes and presents an extra threat for my enemies to keep track of.”
Drakor unslung his pack and withdrew a long staff with a metal head at the end. “Depending on the situation, I’ll pair the dagger with either this warhammer or my short sword.”
He took the aforementioned sword out of his bag, letting the light of the tavern shine on it. “It’s a bit old, and definitely seen better days, but this was my first weapon.”
He smiled wistfully at the sword, then began slowly returning the weapons to their storage places.
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Once he was done, Drakor looked at Rika.
“My apologies, Miss Moselle,” Drakor said, extending a hand. “I fear we may have started off on the wrong foot.”
His gaze turned piercing. “Tell me, in your time here and traveling in the area, have you seen a man missing an eye pass through here?”
“That must be exciting. It looks quite expensive.” Paprika’s enthusiasm was measured, but she didn’t seem actively bored. “I’m sure the baron has a few hidden away worth a hundred times as much.”
“Interesting. Thank you.”
“Your father was a warrior as well, then? Most interesting.”
Between the inherited weapon, the sentimentality, and the fact that Drakor’s out on his own with a mission to protect, probably dead.
“Deadly.”
“Of course.” Paprika only half-paid attention to the weapons as Drakor opened his pack: instead, she glanced inside the bag to see what else was inside.
@discobot roll 1d20
(Perception)
Paprika shook Drakor’s hand firmly, feeling slightly awkward at the difference in size between the two hands. “It is of no concern to me. People like you are more interesting.”
Hah. I bet I could lead him anywhere I want with the right answer to that question. Killed his father without even taking the axe? How wasteful. Shouldn’t have left him something to remember the old man by. Still, this seems as interesting a mystery as any.
“There’s an old man who lives in River’s Bend missing an eye. He trades in exotic goods: herbs, fabrics, spices.”
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(9)
A large poncho is obscuring most of the items in the pack; however, you are able to catch a glimpse of an abacus, a long rope, and what appears to be an iron pot.
Drakor’s face was impassive. “Anyone else missing an eye?”
The careful observer might count that as a back to back question, and that would certainly be true.
Drakor, however, did not care.
Seems like he’s not playing the game anymore. Well, that’s information itself.
“The implication of my only giving one example was that there are no more.” Paprika shrugged a little. “I am happy to help you look, though.”
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Ah. I still have to ask him something else.
Paprika searched for something interesting to ask him, but came up somewhat short. How dead is your father? Do you have a crush on that girl? Sell me your falchion? She had, by this point, gotten fairly bored of asking questions, though to stop would be to lose the game she was playing.
Unfortunately, precisely at the moment it became clear she knew nothing about his quest, Drakor had become boring. He hadn’t known the rest of the party for long, so she couldn’t needle him much about that. His revenge-based motivations were clear; his parents too dead to matter; his visual air of mystery evidently just a way of obscuring that he was a half-orc. Too polite, not hiding any powers, just a search for a one-eyed man that she couldn’t even start on. Weapons, revenge, weapons, revenge.
Paprika scrunched up her face in frustration.
“What the hell is that girl’s name again?”
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After a pause, Paprika spoke again. “Wait. I get two questions, since you asked two. What magic have you seen her do?”
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Drakor sighed slightly. “Unfortunate.”
He refocused. “You said you had an excellent memory. Surely you can remember something as simple as a name?”
He raised an eyebrow. “As for magic, I have not seen her do any.”
@discobot roll 1d20)
(Bluff)
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(16)
(You can roll sns motive to see if it was a lie)