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Chapter 17 by Wulfblade Wulfblade

Maybe there's something else we should be focusing on, like the actual quest

The Bard would like to provide the answer

SORCERER, straightening up: "Alright, enough tomfoolery. While the Rogue's busy with her 'situation' we can't forget our real objective. The barmaid challenged us to find out the color of her underwear - and we've already solved it! We've got the answer sitting right here in a ball of string!"

BARD: "Point taken; why don't I just go up to her and show her." And I stand up and grab the ball of string off the table, and make my way to the bar. "Can I spare a moment of your time, madam?"

DM: You get up and head to the counter. The barmaid is back at her station, tending to patrons. As you approach her expression flickers between suspicion and expectation.

BARD: Hmm, am I getting hostile vibes from her?

DM: You can roll an Insight check for that.

BARD: > Dice clatter < A fourteen.

DM: She quickly lets you know what's on her mind, as she gestures with a nod of her head towards the backdoor down where the Rogue just fled. "Not really impressing me with your discretion so far, I'll have to admit." You can tell that while she's not necessarily hostile towards the party, these escapades have made her more skeptical whether you're the right group for the job. Convincing her of your worth might be a touch harder than it was a minute earlier.

BARD, glaring: Nice job, Sorc.

SORCERER: >unapologetic shrug and a blatant gander at the Bard's exposed chest<

What's next?

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