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Shankley wrote:There's a village a few miles from here with a temple, you could rest there safely. I can take you if you like.

Shankley shrugs at Thoroar.

Gnome wrote:Fierce indeed. The Orcs of the deep woods even have a special name for me in their own language, that roughly translates as "He of the small stature but giant heart who must be feared like no other for verily he will smite us and grind our bones into a fine powder and raze our dwellings to the ground". Roughly.

I clutch my leg but motion to shoo you away.

Gnome wrote:Please, don't worry about my injury too much - I have been in much more perilous situations than this before. One time I was forced to descend a high mountain with two broken legs and a sack full of gold looted from a dragon's hoard. Painful, but I made it. Just some food and drink will suffice. And maybe some accompaniment along the way. Would one of you kind fellows be able to carry my back pack for me? Maybe the other could carry me? I am only small after all.

Gnome wrote:Also, forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself. I am, as you can see, a Gnome. But what may not be immediately apparent is that you are in the presence of the most widely celebrated Bard in all the land. Princesses trapped in high castles write ballads about me.

But what should you call me?

How about the name given to me by King Kilgannon in honour of my saving his kingdom? No - too formal.

Or the name given to me by a beautiful Elven princess who asked me to wed her? No - you would only blush.

Maybe the name the Kobolds shout in fear when they hear of my approach? No - too difficult to pronounce.

Hmm.

In that case, just call me Glibberig

I sweep off my hat and do an awkward half bow (tricky to bow whilst sat down).

Glibberig wrote:Yes, Glibberig will do - look, it's even in the quotes!

Whoops, bit of a crossover there - started typing before I saw your or Grimmie's reply.

Doesn't matter, still seems to fit.

Shankley wrote:Pleased to meet you Glibberig. I'm Shankley, this is my companion Thoroar. Which way are you heading? We'd be happy to accompany you, if you're going in the same direction.

Glibberig suddenly whips out a small, stringed instrument - completely circular body with a long, thin neck.

Glibberig wrote:I am a Gnome of the road
Travelling hither and thither,
With a song in my heart
And arrows in quiver!

Glibberig wrote:Well, as a Bard I like to travel, to adventure and to see the world. So, wherever you are going, I shall accompany you. I may need a little assistance to get going, but I'm a quick healer.

Shall we away?

Glibberig holds up his arms as if appealing to be carried - much like a small child.

Shankley wrote:We're looking for goblins.

I'll offer my hand up. I ain't carrying no gnome.

Glibberig hands Shankley his pack.

Glibberig wrote:Thank you sir, most kind.

It is only fair, I suppose, that your learned colleague is able to assist me in walking in that case. Shall I hop on top or use you as a crutch? I'm sure it won't be too long before I'm up and walking unaided.

Edit: the pack weighs about 10lbs - light as a feather!

I'll hoist the pack.

Just realised I haven't given Glibberig a description:

He's small (well, durr!) and has white hair that sticks up wildly in all directions. It appears to have things in it for ornamentation - beads, coloured string, a magpie feather.

His outfit looks like it was quite plush at one point, though now it tattered and bloodstained. It looks like it has been stitched up several times as noted by the various coloured patches and thread. It still manages to look quite stylish, in a tinker-chic kind of way.

Glibberig wrote:Thank you Mr. Shankley for carrying my pack
With the trouble I'm having it was weighing on my back.
You will be relieved, and you will thank me,
I shall write you into musical history
Mr. Shankley!

Hobbling to a stand, Glibberig shoulders his instrument and picks up his weapons.

Glibberig wrote:I shall carry my sword for now in case the Orcs return. And my longbow. Although it is quite small. But it's not a shortbow. A short longbow yes, but not a long shortbow - that would just be confusing.

Then again compared to you two fine fellows it may well be a shortbow. That said you're not the biggest bigguns I've ever seen. So maybe a mediumbow for you. Not that such a thing exists of course.

Onwards! Tell me Mr. Shankley and silent bookish one, what adventures have you been on recently? I like to hear tales of daring deeds and exciting exploits.

Shankley wrote:Well, I did meet some spiders a little while ago. The priests sent me to keep an eye on a paladin who was recovering a temple. Lots of spiders lived there, big ones. I, um, cleared them out. With fire. Not my greatest moment, but the temple is now free to be used.

Glibberig wrote:Uncanny! I heard the Tale of the Temple Tarantulas from a traveller but yesterday! I heard the Paladin was most courageous in clearing all of the spiders and returning the temple to its former glory. I believe his name was - Bart?

I have even composed a short ballad based on what I heard.

Glibberig clears his throat and plucks a note

Glibberig wrote:Let me tell you the tale of a man named Bart,
Fierce as a lion, yet gentle of heart.

His courage is legend across the land,
Despatching orcs, and monsters, and villainous brigands.

A Paladin noble, heroic, and bold;
Of his many adventures, such tales to be told!

The townsfolk adore him, and rejoice at his name,
The women they love him, and think thoughts of great shame.

But ladies, I regret, I must tell you frankly,
He has eyes for no other, than his lover named Shankley

Shankley wrote:Careful, little man. I'm of good humour, but the paladin likely wouldn't be.

Glibberig wrote:Humour? It is a ballad for the ages, not some tawdry tavern titter tune! Just think - you're name will sung down the generations!

Thoroar glances at Shankley.

Thoroar wrote:He's a crazy one alright.

Alright, assuming you're heading on towards the forest.

You spend another thirty or fourty minutes along the path till the trees either side of you begin to get dense, and the canopy finally looms overhead to bathe the path in shade and dappled sunlight. The path only cuts through a corner of the forest on the route to wildemill. Shankley's probably familiar enough with the local geography that he knows the forest is actually quite large - it would take a few days at least to walk across it, it's big enough to get lost in at least.

Everyone (Pants, Bali, Roman) make two, count 'em, two spot checks, please!

Spot check 1:

9,+1 = 10

Spot check 2:

20,+1 = oh I say!

I wish WotC had saved that for when we're in combat.

Spot:
Roll(1d20)+5:
9,+5
Total:14

Roll(1d20)+5:
8,+5
Total:13

Spotty spots!
Roll(1d20)+1: 17,+1 = 18
Roll(1d20)+1: 19,+1 = 20
I'm so going to miss my magic missiles.

Good rolls!

Aptly, both Thoroar and Forenrond notice that Glibberig is now somehow completely unwounded. Glibberig doesn't.
In fact, there's not even a drop of blood on his leg any more, and a number of tears and holes in his slacks are miraculously gone.

Glib' and Thoroar both spot three figures up ahead.
One's short, one's tall, and the other stands on four legs.

Gentlemen, welcome to the rest of the party..

Glibberig wrote:Friends for us to adventure with perhaps? Or fearsome enemies sent to destroy us?

One of you want to run ahead and find out?

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D&D Adventure #2: Green Shell Suit