you miss the pebble and somersault like a cartoon character
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What at first appeared to be a small pebble was, in fact, just the tip of a much larger stone. I stub my toe.
I fall to the ground holding my toe. I am now rolling in the muddy street awaiting the response of the beautiful lady.
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your pride irreparably damaged, you sulk back to the center of town and reassess the landscape
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I land, face-first, in the mud. From here I will await the lady's response
I didn't sulk back to the center of town I want to lie here in the mud for a moment.
Retard. Don't argue with the dungeon master.
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What are you going to do about it bitch?
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Standing besides my friend @Dondi_Fontaine_Houwk, listening to the words just uttered, I scramble through the shelves of the small shop looking for anything worth keeping.
My eyes fall upon a small pair of brazen cuffs and leather belt with a large iron cuff. Perfect, I mutter. These will do. A pair of rugged boots rob my attention. Aye, what is on my feet now is old and worn. I'll have them. There is a breastplate too, gold in color but hard like steel. It is a fine piece, although the chest is clearly fitted for a woman. Better than nothing, I think to myself. To the awe of my compadres I take it off the shelf along with the rest. This will have to do.
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"And just where exactly," you hear as a man steps out of the shadows, "are you going with that? I assume you must have been meaning to pay for that, no? It doesn't look like you have any gold but, well, maybe I can be charmed. That is a very nice breastplate too. Maybe you can make it worth my while, and do a runway."
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Conventional armor does not fit on a Bristlebog's malformed body. His quills and scales, his thick hide and long tusks, provide all the natural protection he could need in the wild. In the crypts however, his mutations might be his downfall.
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7
It's not looking good bros.
I thought the loan was for all of us, I said quietly, holding back my anger. You mean to insult my honor? Do I look like a mere squire to you? I rest my hand on the sheath of my knife. His eyes follow, perhaps surprised by my courage. You foul beast, you will do best to keep these wicked thoughts your own. It is true I am no knight but my reputation precedes me. Does the name Wulfen, Wulfen of Argenbreath, say a thing to you? Tis not a noble name, I know, but from where I come the people know to fear me. Many a man have perished by my hand.
I will take these garments, I will take them and leave you none. That is the price of your insult.
Are you willing to risk life and name for coin, merchant?
@discobot roll 1d20
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I go to town with the bros. Is there a shop? Do we have any moneys?