George Gimble
The owner of Gimble's Gaffs & Guffaws in Nende. James Haverson's friend from college. He majored in anthropology in college, and his thesis was on memetic stories and the mutation of folklore when shifting bioregions.
After finishing his bow, Bongo keeps his signature smile, though it does seem wider. "Why thank you! How long have you been on the i(th)land? I thought I was the only clown here!" He's says in an excited tone. "Of course not, of course not, ahuyck! The tale of the Jester has inspired many foylks! His legend created a whole new type of entertainer here in Ossen!" Gimble clicks his heels and does jazz hands. Bongo kept his smile as the words "the jester" left his new friends lips. "Whothe that? I've never heard of thith...jethter you thaid?" "Ahyuck! Well yes, the Jester! Considering a-yer garb I'd assyumed you'd know the tale!" Gimble replies with a smile, straightening his tie. When he pulls on it, it lengthens into a long rainbow scarf and just keeps going and going and going and going and going and [Several minutes later] "The Jester was the most profound clown ina aaaaall of Ossen! Nay--all of Toril! A-hyuck!" He spreads his hands in a rainbow motion. "He could do amAAAAYzing feats of magic! Of wonder! Of slapstick! BUT THEN HE VANISHED!" Gimble slaps his hands to his cheeks. He looks like The Scream painting. "It was-a ruuuumored that he grew old and went into retirement, but no one could tell he was old under all his make-up! But if the stories are true, he scattered pieces of his old clown outfit all around Ossen! Whoever can find his wig, his shoes, and his flower will find the Jester, and are destined to be his replacement!" Bongo puts his hand to his chin as he contemplates what he has been told. "That'th definitely an interethting legend! Have you ever theen thith Jethter? Or at leatht the fabled pietheth of hith outfit?" He was getting curious about this version of the legend. "Me? Ahyuck! No sir, I'm a-hyumble merchant, I'm no adventurer! Ahyuck! But I've seen illustrations of him at the university in the library." His voice shifts and becomes deep and normal. "I majored in anthropology in college, my thesis was on memetic stories and the mutation of folklore when shifting bioregions." His smile returns and he flings his arms open. "The Jester was most likely a halfling from Faerûn, ahyuck!" Bongo's face betrayed him as a look of shock ran across it. He was not expecting the clown to break character so easily, let alone be so knowledgeable in academic research. After a few seconds he realized the face he was making and goes back to his trademark smile. "Well it wath a pleathure meeting you Gimble, I'll make thure to pick up thome thupplieth before I head back to Fortune'th Point!" He reaches his hand out for one final handshake. Gimble eagerly takes his hand. After a good shake, Bongo heads out of the store. He still had a performance to do before heading to the library.
After finishing his bow, Bongo keeps his signature smile, though it does seem wider. "Why thank you! How long have you been on the i(th)land? I thought I was the only clown here!" He's says in an excited tone. "Of course not, of course not, ahuyck! The tale of the Jester has inspired many foylks! His legend created a whole new type of entertainer here in Ossen!" Gimble clicks his heels and does jazz hands. Bongo kept his smile as the words "the jester" left his new friends lips. "Whothe that? I've never heard of thith...jethter you thaid?" "Ahyuck! Well yes, the Jester! Considering a-yer garb I'd assyumed you'd know the tale!" Gimble replies with a smile, straightening his tie. When he pulls on it, it lengthens into a long rainbow scarf and just keeps going and going and going and going and going and [Several minutes later] "The Jester was the most profound clown ina aaaaall of Ossen! Nay--all of Toril! A-hyuck!" He spreads his hands in a rainbow motion. "He could do amAAAAYzing feats of magic! Of wonder! Of slapstick! BUT THEN HE VANISHED!" Gimble slaps his hands to his cheeks. He looks like The Scream painting. "It was-a ruuuumored that he grew old and went into retirement, but no one could tell he was old under all his make-up! But if the stories are true, he scattered pieces of his old clown outfit all around Ossen! Whoever can find his wig, his shoes, and his flower will find the Jester, and are destined to be his replacement!" Bongo puts his hand to his chin as he contemplates what he has been told. "That'th definitely an interethting legend! Have you ever theen thith Jethter? Or at leatht the fabled pietheth of hith outfit?" He was getting curious about this version of the legend. "Me? Ahyuck! No sir, I'm a-hyumble merchant, I'm no adventurer! Ahyuck! But I've seen illustrations of him at the university in the library." His voice shifts and becomes deep and normal. "I majored in anthropology in college, my thesis was on memetic stories and the mutation of folklore when shifting bioregions." His smile returns and he flings his arms open. "The Jester was most likely a halfling from Faerûn, ahyuck!" Bongo's face betrayed him as a look of shock ran across it. He was not expecting the clown to break character so easily, let alone be so knowledgeable in academic research. After a few seconds he realized the face he was making and goes back to his trademark smile. "Well it wath a pleathure meeting you Gimble, I'll make thure to pick up thome thupplieth before I head back to Fortune'th Point!" He reaches his hand out for one final handshake. Gimble eagerly takes his hand. After a good shake, Bongo heads out of the store. He still had a performance to do before heading to the library.
Relationships
Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild
Comments