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Hello. Given the current situation, not any time soon, most likely. Also, join which game? Saturday or Sunday? Our Sunday game is pretty full at the moment.

Klebba tucks his toes, and says, "I'd like to go with you, Swithun. I don't what -- if any -- influence my military rank might have, but I doubt it would hurt."

Ralph watches and listens, his hand never far from the hilt of his sword. OOC: Perception check = 12.

Klebba had been quiet, listening to each new comrade in turn. "I cannot turn my heels to this menace," the halfling says. "If you need me, I am at your service."

Klebba says, "Ye gods, but that sounds...complicated. Less like patching a wound, and more like surgery with an ill-defined purpose. Who this 'Ariamhodary', and what danger does he pose?"

Klebba scratches his chin and nods. "There's much not right everywhere. It's like I taught you. Assess. Diagnose. Treat. What your assessment of what is wrong hereabouts?"

Klebba skips a stone on the river. "One, two, three, four...! Ha! I just can't get past four." The halfling takes another gulp of ale. "Brings me to Bit? Well, honestly, I just tired of being in one place. I'd been in Cade-Crable too long, I think. I'd heard through the rumor mill that Surina...

Klebba bows, chewing another mouthful of apple. The halfling grins hugely. "Ye gods curl my toe hairs!" He walks forward, arms held up in a pugilist's stance, and throws a couple of playful jabs at Surina. "I'd heard rumors my old student was in the vicinity, but to find her so quickly! I say...

Klebba catches the apple and chomps a hearty bite from it, chewing a few times before shifting the hunks of apple into a cheek. He speaks around the food in his mouth. "Have just arrived in Bit," he says, then chews some more and swallows. "Walked in from Cade-Crable, and my feet are killing...

Huh, Klebba thinks, a centaur. There's something I don't see everyday. As Klebba walks on, he passes the centaur and then an elf, both of whom appear to be converging on the stall attracting the attention of the girl and the haggard-looking fellow. "Theramin!" the centaur calls. A faint...

Our Saturday Game is a mixture of d20 Modern, d20 Future, and Call of Cthulhu. Starting Sunday, 9 February, our Sunday Game is Quite Full, Thank You Very Much.

"Opening egress point," the computer says. Part of the ceiling disappears, turning into a square opening about six feet across. A ramp forms from the opening to the floor. "Quickly," says the computer. "Before the creatures find their way inside." OOC: Ye gods! It's been way too long since I...

OOC: I'm lost. Let's assume that Ralph tagged along with the wagon. Where does that put him doing what with whom? :)

Chainmail clinking, warhammer across the top of his pack, shield tied to the pack as well, his bald head covered with a sweat-stained canvas scarf showing part of some sort of blazon, the halfling trudges to the edge of the market. He pauses, stretches his back, flexes his shoulders, lifts each...

Whew. I've not abandoned anything. Life has turned into a cudgel the past several days. I'm gonna starting cudgeling back soon.

Whew. I've not abandoned anything. Life has turned into a cudgel the past several days. I'm gonna starting cudgeling back soon.

Whew. I've not abandoned anything. Life has turned into a cudgel the past several days. I'm gonna starting cudgeling back soon.

"You're yelling again," Ralph said. "That's not very sneaky." Ralph waved back. "Huh. A pixie. Cool." Ralph picked up the pace, falling into line on the cart's path, taking long strides, enjoying the ease with which me moved. "Man, if Coach Savage could see me now." "Relax, dude," Ralph said...