lmao
(15)
(12)
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(I dunno how anything works. What dot hese numenrs mean. Should I provide you information. How much information)
(He has a large sword (falchion) at his hip, a greataxe on his back, and a dagger in his belt.)
“There was an itinerant blacksmith,” Drakor said with a straight face. “Are you looking to equip yourself?”
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(it’s a divination spell)
(the dm would give me the information)
https://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/ears-of-the-city/
The elderly woman who runs the tavern seems to have embraced the “tall oak” theming. The interior walls are decorated in paintings of extremely large oak trees, with tiny inch-high buildings for scale, and the counter where people order has arboreal designs carved into the wood. Compared to Goosewing or even Granite Hill, there seem to be fewer forms of entertainment available; no one is singing, juggling, or otherwise performing, and while there are a few people playing cards, none of them seem to be betting money, even pocket change. Still, there are plenty of people eating, drinking, and chatting with their friends and neighbors.
It’s not too hard to get rooms for the night, although the owner seems rather cantankerous; it’s not like you can go to some other inn if she’s rude, and she clearly knows it. Still, assuming you don’t mind a bit of grumbling about how kids these days can’t tolerate a little sleeping on the floor (“why, when I was your age, we thought we were lucky if we had blankets!”) (this claim seems highly improbable to you), she’s willing to rent out the floor at a price of ““““just”””” two links per head (“and be grateful it’s not higher!”)
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Would this appear to be a complete ripoff?
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“I’m interested in clothing of all kinds.” Paprika gestured a bit with her bolts of fabric. “That’s a well-fitted shirt — it looks tailored. I’m not so familiar with weaponry, though. Your sword looks unusually… polished. Was that the blacksmith’s as well?”
(if it isn’t, he’ll just pay for it for the group)
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“Yes, he was rather skilled.” Drakor replied impassively. He drew the blade, though he angled the dangerous side away from the woman, instead holding it up to the fading light so she could see the craftsmanship better. “You said you’re interested in clothing? Are you an artisan?”
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Well, on the one hand, she’s charging you the equivalent two days’ wage for an ordinary laborer to sleep on the floor — you paid slightly more in Granite Hill, but in Granite Hill you at least had a bed. On the other hand, you can probably afford it, and it’s not like you know of anywhere else to rent a room in this town. It does sound like it would at least come with meals, so it’s not as much of a ripoff as it could be?
[it’s book prices, but I’ve been cutting book prices in some cases where I feel that trying to charge book prices would simply result in no one purchasing the service. She is definitely Taking Advantage Of Having A Monopoly.]
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(btw if you would like to roll sense motive at any point against drakor’s bluff just lmk)
Wanderer will decide that he doesn’t care very much and pay the amount.
“I am, although that’s not really relevant right now.” Paprika mostly ignores the blade Drakor is showing off to her, instead closing her eyes to think again.
@discobot roll 1d20
18
(24 for Sense Motive)
(are you sensing drakor?)
(Ya sorry for not clarify)
“…know she’s rude, but she does good work. Come on, you know you can’t sew a hemline for shit, and her prices are fair…”
“…business with her father was terrible, of course, but that doesn’t mean she has any right to act like that. It’s no use getting all up in my business about something so trivial, don’t you think?”
“Quite right, Mother, quite right.”
“And calling me dishonest just for…”
“…don’t understand why he’d do something like that, his daughter isn’t even grown. Erastil won’t look kindly on him, that’s for certain.”
“That’s just an old legend, dear.”
“—Well, it’s not him presiding over Judgment, but that doesn’t mean he’ll see it favorably…”
“…those damned Rostlanders, trying to act like they’re doing us a favor warning us about the ‘bandits’ hiding in Southpond’s woodlot. And where did those bandits come from, huh? Sure not Issia…”
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