Recent content by Bengt Bertuli

Bertuli grinned. Mimed to offer the pipe, then, put it back between his lips and took another puff. "Sides, Magda," the dwarf said through rolls of smoke. "Didn't no one ever teach ya?" with his right hand he reached to one of the flat red pieces on the board, and jump-skip-hopped it across...

"A pigeon, a raven, and a Canary," A scarred and golden haired dwarf said from a seat, not three strides from the gathering crowd of ne'er-do-wells. Took a drag from his own stem of hookah pipe, and blew the smoke over his shoulder. Oliver coughed as the blueish swirls of vapors danced about...

Sounds fun

Oliver could hardly keep from gawking as the white haired maiden joined them. Bengt sucked air through his teeth and smirked. "Plan is the same as always, little lady," he nod to her, half a welcome. "Stay alive, and stab the thing we aim to kill with the proper, instrument," he grinned, and...

Bengt looked down at the letter, at the seal that stamped it shut in black wax. "Worry mate," the dwarf cracked a grin. Big case rested by his seat, tankard of frothy ale there before him. "Always worry," he nod, and took up his drink, gave it a quaff. The tankard hit the table again with a...

Down in the streets, cloaked as Bengt was, it was easy enough to avoid scrutiny. Long as he kept to the shadows. Stayed quiet. Nothing that weird about a short stocky figure when half the city was out in the streets and some dreaded mage used their magick to scream out warning across the city...

"What rotten luck," Bengt, a dwarf who hid in the shadows of a bell tower, spyglass pulled from his eye. He collapsed the item, and put it in one of the hidden pockets in his jacket. "What?" Oliver, a human, asked. "Looks like a whole fuckin army is makin its way across the fields," he...

Well well, what was this then? An adventurer stuck in a rut, with none but his chubby grub-monger to keep him company. Peh. Best not get involved. Least, that's what Bengt told himself as he sipped his honeyed mead at the bar. He had read the posters. Had a laugh at them. But. Well. It didn't...

All the laughing and hoo ha before a march never quite sat well with Bengt. But who was he to question any of it? Better to just sit back, long and lazy, and enjoy the ale while he could, and the smokin' too. He was particularly fond of the smokin. He'd catch the old Forkbeard's eye, and give...