Major Tom

9/10 for Harley's joker also cuz you're an admin

"'En did I agree 'o drunken singin'?" After a quick pause Posco shrugs it off and goes to celebrate the upcoming festival.

Yeah, dis would be awesome. The clashing of Halfling shovels against the rugged iron of the rogue automaton, make it happen.

Posco Bramble, not knowing any better, reads the original notice and shouts to no one in particular. "I knew i'! I 'old 'em all bu' 'ey didn' believe me! Delvers be as ro'en as me uncle's corpse!" Plonking a cookpot over his big head and snatching up his trusty iron shovel Posco runs over to the edge of The Witch Woods and stays on the look out for any o' dem filthy Delvers, grumbling to himself occasionally. "Bloody Delvers ... hrm .. livin' in 'ha' ugly rock ... bein' all evil-like .... blinkin' big uns ..." ​Eventually growing tired and forgetting why he was out there in the first place, Posco trots back off to his burrow for a mid day nap.

Nice guide on da pickin' o' da locks, enjoyable and interesting to read.

After watching Lavimellia re-write the note and pin it back up, Posco Bramble runs up to the note tears it down, rips it up, and stomps on the little bits of paper left over. As he mashes the rest of the note into the mud with his hairy feet he shouts to himself. "Ain' no proper 'Alflin' sposed 'o learn any wa'er magic!" Suddenly Posco stops. "Wai'." He mutters to no one in particular. "If wa'er is a type o' liquid ... and so is ale .. OH BLOODY BRAMBLE BUSH! I've jus' deprived some 'Alflin' from learning' 'ow 'o conjure up ale!" Posco quickly tries to recover what's left of the note but to no avail. After a quick glance about the area he slowly backs away, then breaking out into a mad dash hoping that no one saw him commit his crime against ale magic.

After, so rudely, being told to put his bottle of brandy down. Posco Bramble finishes construction on his lousy barricade, then climbing atop it and beginning to drunkenly sing something about the color red and the color black.

With a bottle of brandy in his hand, Posco Bramble the Halfling, cheers and rejoices as he gets to building a small barricade outside of the Hollyfrost brewery. "Down with the Hobbits!"

What is your stance on the current state of the increasingly violent protests pertaining to the economical position of the Scout's of LOTC? What did I just say and why?

((I CANT DEAL WITH THESE FEELS YOU FANTASTIC BIRDMAN/WORDSMITH)) Posco Bramble weeps like a baby over Felix's grave. His dearest friend, gone.

Posco tears down the flier, mumbling to himself as he throws it into the river. "Us 'Alflin's 'ave bad experiences bein' ring bearers, bad experiences ..."

Posco turns to Bolo as he stomps his foot on the ground. "Me 'ead ain' big!"