"Oh, how incredibly rude of me!" The midlander states. "My name is Rodgers, These two acquaintances of mine are Feder," Rodgers lifts an open palm towards his right, prompting the pale highlander to give a toothy grin and an energetic thumbs up. "... and this is Hoja." Rodgers switches the hand for the same gesture, the shorty highlander snapping his fingers and says nothing more.Â
"We just overheard ya gals talkin' about the new Tarot place," Feder speaks up. "And thought that me and my bro over here Hoja could take ya there. Free of charge and everythin'." Feders' tone of voice exudes pure confidence. Hoja just shakes his head, but remains quiet. This prompts Rodgers to speak.
"Don't mind Hoja," a pause. "He's not very talky. And, you two have been selected to be very lucky winners!" The pitch never ended, seeming to never get to the 'shipping and handling' part. "If you go to Tarot's place with these two fine highlanders, you'll be lined up to be front row spectator's of a very promising show this evening. So what do you say? Deal?"
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Meanwhile, in the Weaver's Guild...
"Ugh." A familiar distasteful voice speaks up from a chair. Oscare holds his head up with a clenched chin, supported on by a bulky thigh. "Tell me again... why are we doing this?" The hunter inquires the thin air, seemingly.Â
"Oh come on, Osc. It's not that bad." Another masculine voice rings from behind a large string of hanged clothes. "The Weaver's Guild wanted to get a bunch of guys to perform a little show in the public, it's no big deal. You go out there, you were one of these outfits -- which is possibly a once in a life time opportunity -- and you show those ladies and gentlemen what your body's packin'." A laugh is followed by the lengthy statement.Â
The hunter sighs. "But I have to wear the Behemoth outfit? Why couldn't I wear another one? Like... I dunno, Feder gets to wear the Leviathan outfit..." A complaint? From Oscare?Â
"You'll be the head dancer! Of course you gotta wear the Behemoth one! It makes your ass look scrumptious." Now the whole room is laughing, Oscare digs his face into a towel given to him while a lalafell youth takes measurements of his legs. This was going to be a very exciting evening.
"We just overheard ya gals talkin' about the new Tarot place," Feder speaks up. "And thought that me and my bro over here Hoja could take ya there. Free of charge and everythin'." Feders' tone of voice exudes pure confidence. Hoja just shakes his head, but remains quiet. This prompts Rodgers to speak.
"Don't mind Hoja," a pause. "He's not very talky. And, you two have been selected to be very lucky winners!" The pitch never ended, seeming to never get to the 'shipping and handling' part. "If you go to Tarot's place with these two fine highlanders, you'll be lined up to be front row spectator's of a very promising show this evening. So what do you say? Deal?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, in the Weaver's Guild...
"Ugh." A familiar distasteful voice speaks up from a chair. Oscare holds his head up with a clenched chin, supported on by a bulky thigh. "Tell me again... why are we doing this?" The hunter inquires the thin air, seemingly.Â
"Oh come on, Osc. It's not that bad." Another masculine voice rings from behind a large string of hanged clothes. "The Weaver's Guild wanted to get a bunch of guys to perform a little show in the public, it's no big deal. You go out there, you were one of these outfits -- which is possibly a once in a life time opportunity -- and you show those ladies and gentlemen what your body's packin'." A laugh is followed by the lengthy statement.Â
The hunter sighs. "But I have to wear the Behemoth outfit? Why couldn't I wear another one? Like... I dunno, Feder gets to wear the Leviathan outfit..." A complaint? From Oscare?Â
"You'll be the head dancer! Of course you gotta wear the Behemoth one! It makes your ass look scrumptious." Now the whole room is laughing, Oscare digs his face into a towel given to him while a lalafell youth takes measurements of his legs. This was going to be a very exciting evening.
"Critical fails; for when the GM sobs at night and the players get free checks."
