<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/86/90/5f/86905f15ad3dd2cfb780ac1359c494ff.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><em>Oloven Dane (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=308778.msg15006511#msg15006511)</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><strong>Tagging:</strong> Dahlya, Gobbie, "WTF"<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Street Bazaar<br/>HP: 20/20 | AC: 12 | Spell DC: 13 | Spell Slots: 1st - ●●●●  2nd - ●●</span><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Oloven threw a quick grin his partner's way as he overheard her apt explanation. And as the goblin offered up their suspicious meat sandwiches, he gave a half-hearted "why thank you," and accepted them almost as graciously as he accepted his mug of ale. He'd learned not to judge food too harshly in his time, but as he examined it more closely, he realized this may have been asking a bit much.<br/><br/>Luckily, his worries were cleansed as the full-blood prostitute across the way bent over into a salacious dance only the thickest of dwarves had mastered. And for a slim and flexible elf, she was performing incredibly well. "My, she is a pro. Not many can adopt the art of twerking with such zeal and clapping ferocity."<br/><br/>But be that as it may, he wouldn't sit there gawking the entire time. He knew how to be subtle--or at least he remembered sometime in the past few seconds. With that in mind, and his composure mostly regained, he turned back to the goblin merchant just in time to see the less-than-legal brew he was pulling out. Part of him wondered whether a dutiful Orzhov would blackmail him with this contraband, or taste of it and decide if they could do business.<br/><br/>"Hm, what have you got?"<br/><br/>Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to make a choice. After seeing a familiar symbol--one currently being scrubbed away by a cantankerous giant turned whorehouse bouncer--he only had a second to share a glance with Dahlya before the fucking thing exploded!<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Intiative: 5 (again!)</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Result: Oloven rolled: 1d20, adding 2 to the total<br/>Comment: Initi<br/>Result: 3, <br/>Total: 5</div></div><br/><br/>The explosion of musty, fetid beer and mushroom sent him to the ground in a fit of gagging coughs. And when he recovered from it, he expected to get into a shouting match with the bastard who endangered their lives. Instead, he was greeted by a nightmare creature from the depths of hell. "What the fucking fuck...?" he called, sounding far less suave than usual as he struggled to overcome his dizzyness and fumbled to keep hold of the coin case.<br/><br/>Then he realized something. It was blind, but it could hear.<br/><br/><em>'Shit'</em>