conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: drack: Some cliche plot  stuff  BS happened, and now everyone's met and is settling down for the night.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: JanusJones: "I'll take first watch."   The amazon leans against a palm, her massive bow in hand.  The air is crisp and cold near the oasis, and there's a salt tang in the air from the nearby sea.  She looks over at the men, disdainfully.   "Which of you oafs do I wake when I need to sleep?" 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: drack: Brant laughs a deep hearty laugh before spitting out his savage words.    "You don't look like good screamer big girly!    Scratching his unshaven face he further emphasizes his point.    How you wake us when ogre come?!"  
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Vhaidara: Strongrunner watch second. 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: JanusJones: Nandi nods to the massive beast, then points her chin at Brant.   "You seem to understand the concept - wake that fool and explain it to him when your watch is over, would you?" 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Vhaidara: The brute nods, the drops to the ground, sound asleep.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: drack: Brant, taking the comment as directed at him, laughs a short harsh laugh before allowing his voice to boom through the camp.    Lord Brant no servant or little girly man,  Lord  Brant sleep until girly scream wake him and tell him kill time.    With that he gestures for some of his servants, ones that look like they'd be "good screamers" to stand watch.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Illven: Marigold just sets up her bed roll and passes out, wondering what she had gotten herself into.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MichaelGoldclaw: The elf came back from behind the trees, pulling up her leather pants. she finds a spot to lie down on her side in an appealing manner  "Well, elves only need to trance for four hours. You can split a watch for four hours and I'll take over." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: drack: Brant watches unabashed as the elf woman pulled up her pants, winking, before again allowing his voice to roll through the campsite.   "Lord Brant's blood bubbles with fire after sitting atop Noble Steed   (the horse's name)   all day!  Has anyone else bubbling bloods and passions to let flow?!    Standing there the man looks oddly ridiculous, his armor, made of some strange clay, clung to him as a second skin with a large protrusion that a boatmen might call a "keel", but which others might just call plain old "ridiculous".  The icy blades at his side looked dangerous, but it's hard to take a man seriously when he walks around with a grappling hook hanging on his shoulder beside a quiver, and two whole tower shields.  Most proper knights hardly bothered with one, and those who had one were more often then not infantry and cannon fodder.  Worse every step he took shook sever bags of marbles hanging at his waste which only made the keel all that much more ridiculous.
  
   
   Spoiler 
  
  Sorry mates, not really GMing, just tossing up a thread for RP in the mean time to give us all something to do while we wait.  ☹️
   
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: JanusJones: Nandi nods assent.   "My thanks.  Saves me from kicking that fool with the big mouth and tiny c0ck awake."   She nods in Brant's direction and winks, grinning, then stalks off into the trees.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Zanos: Atulg finishes hammering in the stakes for his four-man tent, nearly filling the entire thing on his own. A curious sight among adventurers, he carried no armor or weapons, clothed only in old trousers and a leather cloak spliced together from a half-dozen animal hides. He pulls of his cloak and hood, revealing his poorly concealed horns, tossing it on the ground. He folds his legs and closes his eyes, trying his best to relax and meditate.
  
  His eyes remain shut, but he is remarkably well-spoken for such a creature.   "Wake me if you have need of another pair of eyes. And  Lord  Brant, I suggest you keep the sharp ends of your weapons in our enemies. They are not toys."  