[Game thread] Skull Ruins Pokerole

[Iron]

The old man whistles a descending note and thrusts his hands into the air. His clay workstation, now a mess of spikes and concavities and whirls and veins, begins to make a crackling noise. He hastily says "Poik! Poik! Poik!", the sound of dripping water, and a few more craters appear. Then his entire creation begins to harden as if kiln-fired. When the last corner of his work has changed from reddish-orange to dusty gray-brown, a chime sounds, and the entire thing drops into nowhere as if the bottom of the trestle has dropped out.

He stands up, stretches, cracks his knuckles, and smiles at you all. One stride carries him to a wall, where he scoops out a big hunk of clay with one crabbed hand. This he plops onto his trestle, and with a "Hssssssss" from the man's mouth, the clay smooths itself out into a flat plain. Pop! Whistle! Poik! a few broad features appear on the featureless plain.

Before he sits down, he nods to the group. Then he speaks for the first time. "Eh, eh, eh, you passed my little test! Very well done! Not every trainer could have done it! What brings you to the Tusk, eh, eh, eh? And would you think me a poor host if I worked while you talk?"