In the deep night small person carefully approaches one of the posters. The gnome takes the ink and quickly improves the poster: "P-P-Pigs!", he says to himself and with snivelling cowardly runs away.
Duerric- peaceful Dwarf murdered by the cowardly Guards in a Jail whilst fighting for the Elvish Rights Ball- great hunter and the haflings lover, killed by the bear in the Viridale Forest Dirt - businessman and house cleaning specialist, still alive
PS: you don't need to ask me, when you wish to response in the forum. If it's not locked, it's open for your responses.
Well after midnight a shadowy figure approaches one of the posters. He crosses out one word and quickly writes a word over it. Soon after he vanishes back into the shadows.
A silver haired warrior passed by one of the vandalized posters, mummuring a musing tone to herself.
"Curious. Those responsible happends to have a mind of a child's. Legions should have little concern to their enemies apparently lacking adult supervision or maturity."
As Peridan walks by, he snorts in laughter at the posters, vandalized as they are, before the Red Blade removed them.
"Someone has a high opinion of themselves."
Characters: Peridan Twilight, one-eyed dog of the Legion, deceased. Daniel Nobody, adventurer and part time problem solver.
[DM] Poltergeist : If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge an intermediate deity's unbridled fury.
Juggra rummages through a trash barrel after a good morning of drinking, that followed on after a good night of drinking before hand. He stuffs bits of old food into his orcan face and wipes something brown and smelly from his cheek with a bit of screwed up paper.
As he sits down next to the trash barrel to watch the sun come up over the spine of the world mountains he looks down at the piece of paper and smiles.
*the bard's hand raises from the layer of two parchments, the spell's completion burning the image of the poster onto the sheet below it. The beakers around him bubble of inks and various other formula, rattling slightly with the opening of the large wooden door and a Legionaire poking his head within.*
"Those damn vandals seem to have nothing better to do Os. We need another fifty copies if you don't mind."
*before an answer or even much of a reaction could be given, the Legionaire departs, bringing a light clinking of the glass beakers once more. The bard merely sighs as he gathers another thick stack of parchment*
"I never should have told them I knew how to do this... Deneir, why do you test me?"
sigpic Osclow Wiltenholm- "I have seen behind the mask and almost miss the bliss of ignorance."
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