Marl: Sense Motive 1d20 +8 = 16
Ulysses: Sense Motive 1d20 +1 = 9
Horace: Sense Motive 1d20 +5 = 24
"This was a terrible idea. Harper! Let's say we all leave, and forget this happened." Ulysses is fully convinced the smith will kill Horace with the first excuse he gets.
But from his prone position, Horace interjects,
"He kills me, he's dead the next second! Tell him, Lady M.!"
Normally, caution would override heroics on her part, but they're already deep in the mire here, and they need those weapons. Marl draws her saber and steps through the gate.
"You touch that boy, I'll slit your goddamned throat, Harper. And aye, this is what it's come to. Don't think I won't."
Marl: Intimidate: 1d20 +7 = 25
Harper: Sense Motive: 1d20 +4 = 20
The smith's glare strives to destroy Marl through mere hateful expression, but after a second, he relents with a growl, lowering his weapon.
"Just what the devil do ye want? Here to rob me?"
Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.