Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: The Aftermath (Rauk x Sigr)

James took a deep breath, listening to the words his companion spoke, and tried desperately to reason out what she may be trying to say. Buscar? Help? He was certain she had an idea to search for an un-damaged vehicle of some sort to escape the city in. Thinking to himself for a moment, he would tend to agree, although judging by the carnage and pure destruction that had ensued, finding an operational vehicle would be no simple task. His muscles ached all over, and his stomach rumbled from hunger. At least thanks to Maite's efforts they would not starve for tonight. James started to feel the warmth of her body next to his but did not register it in his mind in a perverse manner as he normally may. This was solely for survival, and his sanity was already hanging by a thread. Tomorrow. Out. Yes? He said, catching the word 'Maana' as spoken by Maite. We will find a way. Without making eye contact with her, he looked back up to the ceiling, as if to be reassuring himself just as much as he was her. Maybe this was all just a nightmare. One very livid, life-scarring nightmare. This was the last thought that crossed James' broken mind as his eyelids slowly shut and the overwhelming sound of the eerie silence crept in. Sleep well, Maite. He whispered, before nodding off into a deep, quiet sleep, trusting that she would not end up being a criminal who would murder him in his slumber to take advantage of a now lawless environment.
Thread: The Aftermath (Rauk x Sigr)

Maite slept close to James, wanting to feel something warm, something real in all that nightmare. As her awareness started to dim, she could almost imagine that it was Arturo the one next to her, and not just the man she had rescued... ... Mphhh... Maite grunted a bit, waking in the morning with her eyes still shut keeping the light out. She felt uncomfortable and weird, the horrors that had laid waste upon her life still on the edge of her mind. Arturo, qu hora es? she asked, squirming around free until she bumped with James, Es demasiado temprano para ir a- then the events caught up with her, making her open the eyes wide realizing that it wasn't her husband the man there. Ah... lo siento... Maite said, sorry added afterwards, in that accent that made the 'r' roll wild. Tengo que ir al bao... she doubted how to explain. Bao... bao... bath, no, Toy-Let. Toilet she nodded, getting away. Once she was done with the morning needs, almost couldn't recognize the woman in the mirror as she was making use of the sinks there. Of course it was her, but the scares, the worries, it made her look as a ghastly version of herself. Washing her face helped her with that look and the feeling of being still half asleep, getting an idea on the way back. Passing through a booth of tourist information of the mall, she found a map, that wouldn't be as useful as a guide since who knew how the city was now, not to mention that James seemed to know it well, but it would serve as a tool to convey ideas and decide where to go. On the same booth she noticed a leaflet for a crazy summer raffle, making her eyes go wide remembering its presence at the mall lobby. Back to James, they would have to eat something before moving on, but first she wanted to show him her findings. Out. Help. Necesitamos buscar ayuda Maite indicated, pointing in the tourist map out of the city. She wanted to search for her husband Arturo with all her might, but she knew that it would be useless for her to search a city that size without knowing anything. They needed help, the army, something. Why weren't they already here by then? In the movies they always came swooping in to save the day. Igual podemos usar este, tiene las llaves puestas para ensear como suena she added, taking out the other leaflet, the one about the raffle of a sports car that was parked at the mall lobby for people to see.
Thread: The Aftermath (Rauk x Sigr)

Waking up only a few minutes before Maite had, James was in deep thought before she rolled over and bumped into him. Like any healthy man, James also suffered an incredibly large case of morning wood as his manhood seemed to have a mind of its own and push up creating a large tent in his pants. The poor man didn't want Maite to get the wrong idea, so he hoped that maybe she wouldn't notice. I-it's okay. Don't worry... He quickly said, standing up with haste and turning away in an attempt at hiding his erection, in hopes it would go away before she noticed. James followed behind her, as she went off to find a place for her morning ritual. He did, however, give her the privacy she needed. As he waited for her, he managed to scrounge up some more un-looted energy bars and various non-perishables that he stuffed into a backpack along with several bottles of water. Now equipped with some basic survival gear, he tossed Maite an energy bar and a bottle of water and listened to her speak. Not entirely understanding her, he assumed that she was speaking of a way out. Possibly looking for a bus or some sort of vehicle to escape this hellish warzone. There it was! The sportscar parked in the lobby seemed to be undamaged. A bit of luck at last! He said with a smile, hobbling over toward it. The keys were under the seat, and it had a small amount of fuel. We should try and clear a path to get out in this thing... Maybe over there? He pointed at a large hole blasted in the wall, next to the entrance to the main lobby. There were a few piles of rubble stuck in the way, but nothing they couldn't clear out in a couple of hours. We should probably stock up on supplies and load the car down before we leave, too. Though, James began to wonder... Where would they go?
Thread: The Aftermath (Rauk x Sigr)

After eating and drinking Maite felt better, as good as she could given the circumstances, and when they found the car in perfect state she couldn't help but to be caught on James' optimism and handsome smile. With a way to get out of there they could seek for help, reach the army, emergency services or whoever else had to be on their way to the city. But it wasn't going to be as easy as just taking the damned car and ride to the sunset. Maite couldn't understand half of what James said, but she could see him pointing to the hole in the wall and the rubble that blocked the path out. Esto va a llevar un rato... Maite groaned, looking at the rubble. Cuanto antes empiece, antes terminar she added with a sigh. Approaching the mess at the wall, Maite started to move rubble out of the way of the car, showing as the day before that she was stronger than it could seem at first sight. Maite noticed soon enough that her clothes weren't the best to move around, specially the skirt. Looking at James for a moment, Maite didn't take long to lean to the practical side, removing the beige skirt and the white blouse and tossing them to the car, standing there in her floral bikini. The context was a bit odd, but she wasn't as shy as give it much thought and thanks to that she could move with ease. Now covered with the bare minimum of decency, James could clearly see that the curvy woman had a bit of a sturdy physique. Sure, she was covered with small bruises and cuts everywhere, not to mention quite dirty since the last shower happened days ago, but her fit arms and broad shoulders made clear that she wasn't just soft and tempting. It took quite a while, pausing to drink and rest from time to time, but eventually they managed to clear the way. Maite sat on the hood of the car, panting for air, cleaning her sweat with her discarded blouse that was no longer white. Necesitamos ropa she said, waving her blouse. Ropa repeated, leaning the fabric for a moment over her bust, trying to make James understand that they would need clothes out there. Comida y bebida she added next, the gesture of eating and drinking making things easier to understand. Ah! Gasolina? Necesitaremos gasolina she tried to explain, moving to the back of the car, making a gun like gesture to the gas deposit.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

You all start this adventure as strangers. For one reason or another, you have all arrived in the town of Amphail on the same day. This place is a quiet, pastoral village that serves as a suburban home for many Waterdhavian nobles, and many more prosperous farmers and ranchers. In the center of town is a enormous statue of a proud black horse that has been gelded, most likely by some prankster. Nearby is the only watering hole, The Stag Horned Flagon. It seems like a warm, dry place with a cozy atmosphere. There are some opulent manners here, too, all of them packed up close and tight around the square. There is something that detracts from this otherwise idealistic scene, however. In the center of town is a recently constructed wooden gantry that supports a thick heavy rope that holds up a ragged looking man in an iron cage. His skinny legs hang from the flat bars, swaying in the breeze, and a haze of flies surrounds his pallid form. He is a human, from what anyone can tell, though his face is obscured by long, greasy black hair, and his bony fingers grip the cage helplessly. Two City Watch guards sporting Waterdeep crests on their shields stand guard upon the gantry, leaning on their spears and doing their best to ignore the smell. You can't tell if it comes from the imprisoned man, or just from the area itself, but something foul permeates the atmosphere. In fact, all the locals seem to cover their faces with clean linen cloths wherever you look. One would expect more folk to be out on such a bright, pleasant day, but every window is shuttered and every door closed shut. There are no children playing in the meadow, no young couples holding hands, nor any noblemen out riding their horses in the pasture. There are rats, though. Big fat black dead ones. They've been nailed to the fronts of doors by their tails by the dozen. None are seen alive, at least not yet, but it's obvious Amphail has a rat problem, or did have a rat problem, at least. A smart traveler would head on down the road and avoid such a grotesque scene, but the sun draws down upon the horizon, and the cool winds whip across the valley, leaving a nip in the air. It's a two day journey from here to Red Larch on the Long Road, and rumors of bandit attacks have been hovering around the teamster wagons. Some of you have a reason for being in Amphail, others may just be passing through, but each of you gets the impression that something is going to happen here, good or bad.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

Well, that doesn't look good. Lucretia commented when she took in the sights, the imprisoned man and the dead rats. ...Or smell good, for that matter. she added, twitching her delicate nose. Her voice was but a whisper, but somehow she was sure Stormbringer heard her. As weird as it is to say it, the sword has an ear for idle musings. What did the man do? she asked the first local she met who wasn't a guard - given her profession and history, her aversion to authority was almost instinctive. But she was curious about the man in the iron cage after all, you never know what crimes people could get punished for.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

She would have come into town quietly, but she did not seek to hide what she was overmuch, as really, there was little point. She could keep up a magical disguise for two hours a day, but at the end of the day it was better to bring up that Do'Urden and ask people if they thought he was the only one? Granted, she was not a renegade, but when the sheep outnumber you enough that a stampede poses a credible risk? Better to let them convince themselves with a good example, allusion and letting them draw their own conclusions. Still, as she sits in The Staged Horned Flagon, nursing a glass of wine, relaxing in a darker corner of the room, she would have her own inquires and questions, at least in part of recent events, and how the rats have been effecting the crops and herds, and if that disreputable man in the cage had any connection with all of this?
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

As he walked through the town's streets, Sir Roland wondered just what was going on in Amphail. Everywhere he looked he found rats nailed to doors, and there was a foul stench in the air that he couldn't quite place. If not for the late hour he'd likely have chosen to pass the town on by, but there was something else that made him inclined to stop here. It wasn't anything truly tangible, but he had a feeling that something was going to happen here, and it was setting him on edge. So he'd told his companions to do whatever they needed before the day's end and went off in search of a place for them to stay the night. It wasn't long before he'd found an inn, called The Staged Horned Flagon, and so he walked inside hoping to be warmed by the fire if nothing else. Approaching the bar, he took a seat and looked at whoever was standing there. A mug of whatever ale you have, and if you have a room free I'll take it for the night. He looked around the room after he spoke, wondering who else had decided to stay the night rather than risk traveling in the dark.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

Callie instinctively covered her nose as she entered and traveled a bit through the square in Amphail. Due to her parent's history of being carpenters she has had some dealings with terrible smells from the location, but she definitely wasn't used to the reek of death lying around, even if it were just large rats... Still, the rest of the town seems fine and dandy and that's a good thing, especially after walking around and while it was pretty quiet, there were people around, so it's not a ghost town! Seeing a strange girl looking at a caged man hanging at the square, the voluptuous halfling paid no mind to it and decided to head to The Staged Horned Flagon as it felt most convenient for her since it was the nearest inn after stopping to settle for the night. She heads in with a cheer and a smile before realising she made a bit of noise and the last thing she wanted was for people to recognise her, so she quickly scanned around the inn before sighing of relief and heading to the bar, pushing herself up with some effort to the tall stools. Agh, finally! Halflings, am I right? Needing to pull themselves up for the bigger things! Callie chuckled with a big grin on her face. I'd like some water, if you don't mind. And a place for the night too.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

BadAnime said Well, that doesn't look good. Lucretia commented when she took in the sights, the imprisoned man and the dead rats. ...Or smell good, for that matter. she added, twitching her delicate nose. Her voice was but a whisper, but somehow she was sure Stormbringer heard her. As weird as it is to say it, the sword has an ear for idle musings. What did the man do? she asked the first local she met who wasn't a guard - given her profession and history, her aversion to authority was almost instinctive. But she was curious about the man in the iron cage after all, you never know what crimes people could get punished for. Click to expand... You meet a teamster dozing on the kick plate of his wagon, his face a pock-marked landscape of bad weather, alcoholism, and too many street fights. Beneath his lower lip was a fat wad of tobacco, which resulted in a nasty pile of brown spit just a few feet from his post. He seemed to be an expert spitter and demonstrated this by using the action to punctuate his statements. 'E's a murdrer, 'e is. SPIT. Led this noble band of adventurers to their deaths up at Red Larch, promisin' 'em gold 'e dint 'ave, SPIT, watchen 'em get kilt by skelingtons, SPIT, and heads back to town with 'eir valuables. SPIT. He took a moment to hook a big wad of brown tobacco from his mouth and threw it on the ground, rubbing his lips. Well, maybe not, could just be a coward, an' 'e meant to return the deceased's valuables to their next a' kin. Ol' Crow Eye's a monk, anyway. Or 'es 'sposed ta be. Now 'e's just a nutter. Always blabberin' on, not makin' a' lick a' since to no one. An' he stinks, an' we fink he brought the plague with 'em. I fink that anyway. I fink 'e's possessed. Or a demon. The Lord Warder thinks otherwise. They want ta hang 'em north a' here, but this here's Waterdeep's turf, and city doctrine says the bastard's gotta wait trial 'fore he hangs.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

BadAnime said Well, that doesn't look good. Lucretia commented when she took in the sights, the imprisoned man and the dead rats. ...Or smell good, for that matter. she added, twitching her delicate nose. Her voice was but a whisper, but somehow she was sure Stormbringer heard her. As weird as it is to say it, the sword has an ear for idle musings. What did the man do? she asked the first local she met who wasn't a guard - given her profession and history, her aversion to authority was almost instinctive. But she was curious about the man in the iron cage after all, you never know what crimes people could get punished for. Click to expand... Lucretia encounters a bald man reclining upon the kick plate of a trade wagon. Lean and ugly, he doesn't wear a linen mask, and chews a fat wad of tobacco in the side of his mouth. He hired some adventurers from Red Larch, led them to some ruin by the Dessarin river, and had them eaten alive by goblins and skeletons. His hands were bloody, and in his sack he had the valuables of those he deceived. He somehow escaped burning at the stake, and the City Watch caught him when he came to town yesterday. He spits. I say good riddance. He speaks nothing but madness-- must be possessed by some demon.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

RPG-Girl said She would have come into town quietly, but she did not seek to hide what she was overmuch, as really, there was little point. She could keep up a magical disguise for two hours a day, but at the end of the day it was better to bring up that Do'Urden and ask people if they thought he was the only one? Granted, she was not a renegade, but when the sheep outnumber you enough that a stampede poses a credible risk? Better to let them convince themselves with a good example, allusion and letting them draw their own conclusions. Still, as she sits in The Staged Horned Flagon, nursing a glass of wine, relaxing in a darker corner of the room, she would have her own inquires and questions, at least in part of recent events, and how the rats have been effecting the crops and herds, and if that disreputable man in the cage had any connection with all of this? Click to expand... The matron of the tavern is a middle-aged human woman named Arleosa Starhenge. She raises an eyebrow to seeing a drow walk through her front door, but says nothing of it. She serves good enough wine, cracks a few jokes about the stallion outside, him? Was my ex husband, 'till I turned 'em into a horse an' had 'em gelded, and does her best to be as accommodating as possible, being that there aren't many patrons around this time of day. Roll persuasion to get information from Arleosa.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

pods6827 said As he walked through the town's streets, Sir Roland wondered just what was going on in Amphail. Everywhere he looked he found rats nailed to doors, and there was a foul stench in the air that he couldn't quite place. If not for the late hour he'd likely have chosen to pass the town on by, but there was something else that made him inclined to stop here. It wasn't anything truly tangible, but he had a feeling that something was going to happen here, and it was setting him on edge. So he'd told his companions to do whatever they needed before the day's end and went off in search of a place for them to stay the night. It wasn't long before he'd found an inn, called The Staged Horned Flagon, and so he walked inside hoping to be warmed by the fire if nothing else. Approaching the bar, he took a seat and looked at whoever was standing there. A mug of whatever ale you have, and if you have a room free I'll take it for the night. He looked around the room after he spoke, wondering who else had decided to stay the night rather than risk traveling in the dark. Click to expand... Entering the tavern you find the matron engaged in conversation with a dark-skinned elf in revealing clothing. The older woman turns to you, nods, and stands up from the table and walks over to the bar. She hears your order, proffers a pewter mug of frothy ale, and slides a room key over the counter. Five silvers for the room, four coppers for the drink. Is there anything else I can do for you, fine sir? I'm afraid our rooms are modest, but they're clean, and dry, and the beds are soft. After a pause, the matron fidgets with the bar cloth and averts her eyes. I apologize for that drow, sir. I know it's akin to lettin' an orc into the establishment, but she seemed civilized enough, and she wasn't tryin' to harm nobody. I know it ain't propper, but... well, I can't just kick her out now I've taken her coin.
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

the fill-in said Callie instinctively covered her nose as she entered and traveled a bit through the square in Amphail. Due to her parent's history of being carpenters she has had some dealings with terrible smells from the location, but she definitely wasn't used to the reek of death lying around, even if it were just large rats... Still, the rest of the town seems fine and dandy and that's a good thing, especially after walking around and while it was pretty quiet, there were people around, so it's not a ghost town! Seeing a strange girl looking at a caged man hanging at the square, the voluptuous halfling paid no mind to it and decided to head to The Staged Horned Flagon as it felt most convenient for her since it was the nearest inn after stopping to settle for the night. She heads in with a cheer and a smile before realising she made a bit of noise and the last thing she wanted was for people to recognise her, so she quickly scanned around the inn before sighing of relief and heading to the bar, pushing herself up with some effort to the tall stools. Agh, finally! Halflings, am I right? Needing to pull themselves up for the bigger things! Callie chuckled with a big grin on her face. I'd like some water, if you don't mind. And a place for the night too. Click to expand... The landlord of the Stag-Horned Flagon is serving a tall regal human male in polished chain mail at the bar next to you, and over in the other corner is a mysterious dark elf who sips wine and watches over events with keen green eyes. With a smile the matron serves you a tall glass of fresh well water free of charge, and hands you a brass key from a hook on the wall. Yer in luck, girlie. Got one more left. It's yours for five silvers. You'll be right next door to this handsome fella here!
Thread: D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

She raises an eyebrow at the mention of the transformation and gelding of a former lover, even as she listens in to the comments about her, before she speaks, her voice amused and not betraying any of the sarcasm she would be feeling. I must admit, I had not thought to encounter a powerful wielder of the art amongst the humans. I had assumed that your kind were blind savages, barely eking a living through raiding and cannibalism in some of the danker tunnels and crevasses. She chuckles, and there is amusement in it, as well as interest. It would appear alas, that the information I possessed requires considerable revision. She sighs, looking somewhat put out, though at the same time, excited. But where there is life, there is the chance to learn and expand on what one knows. But then, as the lady Waukeen teaches, Saesi air vyror ail eir sol, sher shor cyrdaedi tystaer ei kaeraes vyrorol ail si shasol. She switched over to Elven at the drop of the hat, though she did lean forward a bit. So, I am curious, is there a local custom involving rats? See more Elvish to common translation There is profit in all things, but with knowledge comes a greater position in the bargians. Persuasion roll 21