Griznuq Gaming

Far too drunk right now. Get back to me tomorrow.

Harrison was tired. It'd been a long day that left him with more questions than answers, though he hated asking questions. Instead he liked to try to analyze things for himself. He found that if he remained observant, with a little luck his questions were usually answered in due course anyway. That way, he could pretend he knew all along. He didn't like looking like he didn't know something. The problem with that approach was that if the information didn't present itself, he'd simply never know.

"Alright," he said wearily. "Thanks."

His thanks tasted a little sour in his mouth. Yes, Michael was helping him, but he really seemed a little more interested in the outcome than someone who was just doing a good deed would be.

Harrison wondered if Michael's motivation was to have another set of eyes in the Clergy, rather than another friend.

Whichever it was, Harrison would take it. If they wanted to use him, he was fine with using them.

More confused than ever, Belwar let the discussion hang in silence, until both he and Zurn were lost in thought. Now, the only thing that was clear to Belwar was that nothing was clear, except for what he thought he should do. If Moradin wanted Belwar to do his holy work, Belwar reckoned there'd be no real way to avoid it from happening anyway.

Belwar decided he'd just stick to doing what he thought was right, and let the pieces fall where they may. One thing was certain, that temple wasn't meant to be jammed with bugs. Belwar would restore it to it's former glory, because that's what he thought was the right thing to do.

Harrison isn't going to say anything unless it's required of him. He's sort of on information overload at this point, being 10 and what not...

Harrison nodded slightly. "I am," he said with a shrug.

Harrison is in complete observation mode. Harrison will let whatever's going on between the two of them, stay between the two of them.

After a couple days of awkward silence, Harrison said "Hello."

Laren regarded her cautiously a moment. "Yeah, that'd be nice... Toasted, perhaps? Some honeybutter?" He asked in a tone that suggested he was saying more than he was saying.

Interesting, Laren thought... Lasher was a name he knew as the leader of the Duskshrouds, and he wasn't afraid of Oscar the way this "Finkle" was. Still though, he was giving off a friendly vibe, perhaps of equality. He wasn't afraid to flex his proverbial muscle on front of Oscar. He was also not apparently bothered that Oscar now knew his real name. He obviously felt that Oscar was either an ally, or simply not a threat.

The panic on Finkle's face was a different story. Either he was afraid of Oscar, or he was just afraid of anyone who stood up to him. Laren suspected it might be a little of both. His hasty retreat from the Pint was clear evidence of the latter.

Laren threw back his head and let to a belly laugh, followed by a deep gasping inhale, and another round of laughter. "I'll be seein ya later master Dwarf! And ye too, there Fribble!" He began walking in the opposite direction he had been, and stopped only to fake a punch at the youth and shout RAA! followed again by his gut clenching laugh. "Ah, the youth! Scared o' me and my muscles!" he flexed at the few who'd gathered and watched. "I'm so strong!! From upwind!!"

He hoped it wasn't too odd, Oscar suddenly walking a different direction, but he wanted to allow the two a moment to get some distance between them before he decided what to do next.

He was intrigued by his notion that Oscar may have some measure of respect among the ruffians of the city, and considered approaching the guards at the door to the presumed hide out and see what he could gather by just standing in front of them and staring blankly... But then, he also imagined Lasher was on his way to the Pint, possibly taking the round of Hawkberry Brandy as an open threat. Since it was on Laren's tab, he figured he should be there, should trouble happen.

With a sigh, he decided to leave this side adventure he'd concocted in his head about Oscar being some kind of king pin, and get back to what was important. Once the two were back under way, he stopped dead in his tracks, made a show of looking around as if he'd just realized where he was, and turned back around in a bit of a hurry. He didn't want to lose sight of MacTeague.

"Have you seen my chicken??" he asked no one in particular. "Here Gerry! Bok! Bok! Buh-GARK! Where's my chicken!?"

Laren was shocked at the familiarity in the old Dwarf's tone, and began to wonder, as he had earlier if perhaps there was more to Oscar than there appeared to be.

Laren leaned in closer to the couple, and let his face go dead cold. He dropped his voice to a dire tone that spoke of pain and death, and said "Don't let it happen again." He planned to watch their reactions in the next two or three seconds, and follow up with another ridiculous belly laugh. If they grew scared, his suspicions would be confirmed, Oscar was known and respected (if not feared) by the ruffians, which COULD mean he'd need a different disguise! If they looked shocked or standoffish, the silly laugh would diffuse the situation, and he'd bid them farewell. ...if everything went right, that is.

I think he's saying "No." Seems to be less "Go train in paladin" and more "Go do the right thing, and it'll just happen". I think you have some creative license here. but it's ultimately going to be up to Moradin.

"Let's do it," said Harrison.

Laren reflexively got his arms up in time to stop himself from smashing face-first into the cobblestone street, and hoped no one saw it, and thought it odd. Oscar wasn't exactly cat-like, after all.

He shuffled to his feet, and dusted himself off, which didn't make him any cleaner. He turned to the wagoner, and shook a fist at him, "Awe, you went and dirtied me trousers!" she said, followed by an outrageous wheezing laugh.

Laren offered a hand to help up the other two. "I ain't seen drivin that bad since the last day I drove!"

Harrison thought outloud as they walked.

"Well, I think if we can't trust everything she says, then chances are, ANYTHING she said, could be, or could be not, true. I wonder if there really IS an Angelus, and if no one knows about him, why's he that powerful?"

Harrison shook his head. He kept talking, not waiting for a response. "What if Jonah actually WAS this Angelus person? Maybe he "got banished" because he was almost discovered, or something?"

"I wonder what this key actually goes to? If we ever need leverage over her, I bet Jonah would be pissed to know she sold it for 50g. I mean, supposedly he told her to keep it secret AND give it to his successor. That's TWO things, and she didn't do EITHER of them."

"What's up with her daughter? Why'd she smile at me like that, and how come she only said hi to me, and not you?"

Sooo....