by tumblingdice » Sat Jun 20, 2015 12:58 am
Stephan puts his arm on Athelstan's shoulder. "My friend," he says, pointing to the lower glowing destination, "we just came from there. May I suggest we go here instead." He points to the city at the top of the map.
"Enough talk of plans," Pyotr interrupts. "My brother, you were gone for nearly a month. I thought you were dead. And you," he says, turning to the party, "have been out looking for him. And now. And now, you're back. It is time to celebrate. Darya! Alfana! Stellios! Let us prepare a feast!"
The homestead buzzes with activity as plans to drink, eat, be merry, drink, and drink some more go into action. "And let's not forget," Pyotr says, "there are still horses to be sold. But first, baths for everyone. Especially you, my friend Jorg. You smell like a wet wolf!"
Pyotr's mother Kuzma eyes Jorg with interest as you all shuffle off to bathe, relax and tend your wounds. You can probably squeeze in a nap before the feast begins. Anybody wish to do anything else?
Get thee to the dungeon. Get thee to the dungeon forthwith. Pass not the barbican. Amass not 200 GP.