The Goblins Fan Forum

Calrick got lost in thought while eating, pondering about teeth and how they serve to break food down into smaller and smaller bits, and is a bit confused by the question... "I won't be eating all the time, but I prefer to do it at least a couple of times a day! The food fuels the mind, you know!" He pats his ample belly.

Aimee looks at her porridge, then at Kryz,

"I generally only eat five times a day, cardinal meals and two snacks. How often do dragonborn eat? I can try and skip the snacks I guess if you'd like!"

She smiles obligingly at Kryz and then over to Balin. See Balin still reading she asks, with a knowing wink at Kryz,

"So, is Calrick certified?"

"Doing what?"

"Looking in my mouth and stuff. It's pretty weird. I'm used to people looking at me funny, but it's not like I escaped from a zoo or something... I eat just like everyone else - same meals, same food. Well, except kids I guess. Halfling children are definitely a favourite, but they're hard to catch."

Aimee spits some porridge on the table as she snorts out a laugh. She wipes it up with her sleeve.

"They are nimble!"

"Oh! You like them too? Cool!"

Balin looks up from his reading, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly.
"I must have done something horribly wrong in the past." he mumbles soto voice.

Saca, having already packed, eaten breakfast and waited outside for the remainder of the group that Gundren hired, opens the door to the Inn and peeks inside, impatiently.
When she spots Kryz, Aimee and Balin, she hollers: "There you lot are. Are you ready to go soon? You heard Gundren yesterday, if we take longer than four days, he'll think we got killed or nicked his stuff, so get a move on, please."

Aimee points at Saca and says to Calrick,

"That's the other dwarf I was talking about. What's I say about her hair? Orange right?"

Aimee is done with her porridge but has the barkeep fill her waterskin with wine before grabbing her bag and going happily out to look at the horses.

((At this point it is probably dawn as Aimee and Balin got up an hour before. It's great that Saca was so excited to meet the horses she was up and outside waiting, in the dark, for everyone else to get there . ))

Balin sighs, finishes his tea in one gulp, and heads out with the others to look over the cart.

The group leaves the inn to find a cart, full to the brim with various supplies, had been delivered broght and early. It is pulled by two cart horses, and there is a bench for the driver big enough to fit two. (Maybe 3 if the dwarves and gnome don't mind squeezing in). In the very back are 5 bags filled with trail rations, enough for 4 days. If the space was consolidated well enough, there might be enough room for one other person to sit at the back of the cart. Either way, it looks like somebody is walking

Balin shrugs. "We should take turns walking. Maybe two hours each time. I can go first, unless someone else really wants to."

"Yes, definitely more of an orange red."

Calrick finishes off his breakfast and skips out to the cart, jamming a floppy cap on his head over his spectacles. He clambers aboard, puffing a bit at the effort.

"I've got little legs, so I'll just ride, don't want to slow us down, we're on a timetable, you know."

Saca raises an eye brow when she sees Calrick. "And who, pray-tell, are you?"

To the others she says: "Anyone of you ever driven a cart before? Or at least dealt with draught horses at all?"

"That's quite a mouthful. Mind if I just call you Rick?
And what is it you do? We're supposed to be guarding this cart and it's contents here, and if you don't mind me saying so, you're not exactly build like most people would picture a ... conventional guard."

"Oh... well, if you must shorten it, I'd prefer Cal to Rick. As for what I do, you're right, I'm not conventional."

His face gets very serious.

"I have the Sight... I can see right through you... through each and every one of you.", he points at the other new guards in turn.

"Line up there, and face me. Hold up some number of fingers behind your back and I'll open my Sight to see right through you and tell you how many fingers you are holding up. Go on then. I'll wait."

Kryz gets all excited and lines up, hands behind his back.

Calrick hops up onto the cart seat, his eyes roll back in his head and he extends a finger at Kryz, loudly calling out the number of fingers he's holding up.

((If Kryz changes the number, he calls out the new number immediately!))

Saca doesn't seem impressed and does not line up, nor hold up fingers. "Somehow I doubt that would help us with a bandit attack, Cal. Unless your 'sight' enables you to see them coming, before we get into trouble with them..."

Cal unrolls his eyes.

"What if they are on the other side of a tree, and I can see them and you can't, hmmm? Besides, I didn't say it was the ONLY thing I can do, so now hush."

His eyes roll back and he calls out whatever number Kryz has up.

Balin looks on, sighs, and walks around to the front of the horses. He spends a couple of minutes making friends with them ( animal handling: 1D20+2 = [18]+2 = 20 ) then gets a grip on the reins near the bridle. "Mount up. We're burning daylight. You can entertain yourselves on the road."
Once everyone else is on, he'll start leading the horses from the front, heading out into the city and making his way to the appropriate gate.

"I daresay when they are behind one tree you can see already, it will be too late to avoid them. But your other skills might come in handy, depending on what they are."

Saca nods to Balin and says "If you're happy to lead the horses, I'll keep an eye out to the rear. You never know where trouble will come from."
She then takes up a position behind the cart, ready to follow it when it starts moving.

She also begins to do a (perception guidance) cantrip on herself, renewing it every time it wears off.

Calrick sighs at the chronic serious-itis that plagues all dwarves before turning to Aimee.

"How about you? How many fingers, how many fingers..."

Aimee is delighted to have someone else with talents on the trip and climbs in the back of the wagon to let Cal do the number trick on her as they roll out.

She then whispers in his mind,

"I can do tricks too!"

Calrick calls out a few of Aimee's numbers when the hooting of an owl turns heads.

"Lewis! Hush!", Calrick hisses, stomping his foot as his feathered conspirator, a small owl perched behind the party, gives up his game.

When Aimee whispers in his head, he jumps with surprise before clapping, "Ah, excellent, excellent!"