Post by JJFWXVI on Apr 17, 2020 22:11:46 GMT
A combination of tall drinks and small legs means it takes JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI a couple of attempts to clamber onto the stage. The gnome peels off his gaudy yellow-and-green jacket and hangs it over the stool placed there for performers.
He looks around the room, gauging his audience. They’ve already had a couple of songs tonight - as well as a diabolical mime act.
“What’s a Mousefolk Rogue’s favourite move?” He asks rhetorically, mentally shuffling through his repertoire, mouth moving on automatic as he decides on what to perform.
“Squeak Attack!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI says a second later, before some wiseass can interject.
The crowd laughs. Ok. Maybe another he thinks.
“Did you hear about the priest of Tyr who kept casting Spiritual Weapon instead of Spirit Guardians..? They put it down to a clerical error..”
The laughter grows; a couple of punters stamp their feet. That settles it.
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI mugs a huge toothy grin, wild erratic hair emphasising his goofy appearance.
“I say, I say, I say - what’s a bank manager’s favourite subclass?”
A few feeble muttered responses drift up from the audience.
“A Loan Ranger!” The house band, clued into the vibe, strikes a rimshot.
Cheers and groans from the spectators.
“One more, one more.” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI raises his hands placatingly. “You’ve all heard of Walter Dish’nay, I assume? The great Faerunian playwright. Well, guess what he always plays in games of Regicide? A p-aladdin!”
The gnome retrieves his jacket and departs the stage to cheers and whoops. One of the audience - a tall, middle-aged human man with dun coloured hair and suntanned skin - introduces himself as Tomin Althorp and offers to buy the small performer a drink...
He looks around the room, gauging his audience. They’ve already had a couple of songs tonight - as well as a diabolical mime act.
“What’s a Mousefolk Rogue’s favourite move?” He asks rhetorically, mentally shuffling through his repertoire, mouth moving on automatic as he decides on what to perform.
“Squeak Attack!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI says a second later, before some wiseass can interject.
The crowd laughs. Ok. Maybe another he thinks.
“Did you hear about the priest of Tyr who kept casting Spiritual Weapon instead of Spirit Guardians..? They put it down to a clerical error..”
The laughter grows; a couple of punters stamp their feet. That settles it.
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI mugs a huge toothy grin, wild erratic hair emphasising his goofy appearance.
“I say, I say, I say - what’s a bank manager’s favourite subclass?”
A few feeble muttered responses drift up from the audience.
“A Loan Ranger!” The house band, clued into the vibe, strikes a rimshot.
Cheers and groans from the spectators.
“One more, one more.” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI raises his hands placatingly. “You’ve all heard of Walter Dish’nay, I assume? The great Faerunian playwright. Well, guess what he always plays in games of Regicide? A p-aladdin!”
The gnome retrieves his jacket and departs the stage to cheers and whoops. One of the audience - a tall, middle-aged human man with dun coloured hair and suntanned skin - introduces himself as Tomin Althorp and offers to buy the small performer a drink...