(why is my roll luck good now)
A young, elegantly-dressed woman catches Wanderer’s eye as he looks around. She gazes at him for a moment, then over to each of the other party members, one by one, tilting her head a little.
Paprika takes a few steps toward Wanderer, carefully clutching several bolts of fabric close to her chest. As soon as the distance is appropriately closed, she greets him in her most polite tone of voice:
“Good evening and welcome to Talloak. I am Rika Moselle. Would you happen to be looking for something…?”
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Drakor was at a loss for words. She had given up her own chance at a masterwork quality weapon so that he could have one? A beautiful, lovingly hand-crafted implement of combat made by a Baron’s own smiths? And she had just set that aside?
No, not just set aside - she was offering it to him. Suddenly Drakor was aware of just how many weapons he owned already, while poor Canary only had a single (very small) dagger to her name.
No, this would not do. He could not accept this. It was simply not right.
“No! It is yours!”
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“…”
“…Okay.”
I feel bad. But I- don’t really have the will to convince him. I think he’d just feel worse. If I pushed it.
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He nods.
“You would be correct. My group is looking for lodgings for the night. Not looking to stay long.”
“You cannot give up a weapon of such quality! That is not fair- no, not just unfair, that is unjust.”
He drew the spring blade from his sleeve, blade still retracted. “At a bare minimum I could offer you a trade. But even then-” he gestured at the relative disparity in size between the spring blade and the falchion. “-I still feel that this is not a good deal for you.”
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(I assume Talloak has an inn? If not, negate this)
“Well, the inn is nearby. I suggest you make it there quickly. It’s been quite the journey for you, after all, coming through Goosewing from…”
“…Okay.” Canary has the same look on her face from when she agreed to keep the sword.
She passes it to him, and takes the spring blade.
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16, 12
(“Inn” is overstating it a bit, but there’s a tavern that, in addition to its primary source of income (selling alcohol) and secondary source of income (selling food), also rents out sleeping space on its floor. You could also invite them to stay at your own residence, if you wanted to, though some people disprefer inviting strange adventurers to their houses, given that if said adventurers decide to, say, rob them in the night, they wouldn’t necessarily have much recourse.
Technically, there’s also the Ghost House (a house that’s been boarded up for safety after its owner died and rose as undead, and the first person who tried to fight them also rose as undead – or so you’ve heard, this was before you were born), but this is about as good of a place to stay the night as it sounds.)
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(so all things considered, the inn/“inn” is probably their best bet,)
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Drakor rustled around in his pack. “Are you certain you do not want a sling, too? Or a dueling dagger?”
“Not really. …No.”
1 Like
Interesting.
“I’ll take your advice. Thank you.”
In that case, revise:
“Talloak unfortunately lacks any beds for rent, though I’ve known visitors to sleep on the tavern floor, if that is acceptable after your long journey. Granitehill is quite the distance away.”
(will not revise the statement)
Drakor looked unconvinced - who would turn down a free weapon unless they were trying to be polite? - but he decided to let the matter drop. “Very well,” he sighed. “But if you change your mind, just let me know.”
2 Likes