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Danger in Rekkenmark

Game Master EltonJ


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Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

Oy, Gameplay here fellas.


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

It was Autumn in Rekkenmark that day. All of the trees have turned to their reds, oranges, and yellows. Most birds have flown South to the Valenar lands already. Some geese and ducks stayed behind. The winter that was coming was not soft.

The bees knew it. The domesticated Sarlonan bee was quickly gathering nectar from the few autumn flowers that were left. But it was also a day that the Rekkenmark Academy accepted new cadets. Each cadet had to go through a thorough interview process to make sure they were ready.


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10
EltonJ wrote:

It was Autumn in Rekkenmark that day. All of the trees have turned to their reds, oranges, and yellows. Most birds have flown South to the Valenar lands already. Some geese and ducks stayed behind. The winter that was coming was not soft.

The bees knew it. The domesticated Sarlonan bee was quickly gathering nectar from the few autumn flowers that were left. But it was also a day that the Rekkenmark Academy accepted new cadets. Each cadet had to go through a thorough interview process to make sure they were ready.

Your group is standing in long lines, waiting for your final interview and assignment to barracks. You might also get a longsword. There is time to meet each other and get to know one another. Who knows? You might get assigned to the same barracks.


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

A pale-faced human woman stands in line, her hands resting alongside her hips. She's older, her face wearing either years or battlefield experience, something hinted at by her quiet watchfulness. The boredom of it doesn't seem to trouble her, perhaps because boredom is preferable to an array of possible horrors.

Yet something about her seems almost magnetic, the same fearful urge to jump that tempts on the edge of a cliff now invites others to talk, though hopefully with less deadly result...


Female Human Slayer 1 HP: 9/11 NL: 0 | AC 16/13/13 | F +2, R +5, W+1 | Per:+5, Init: +5 | Arrows: 39 | Daggers: 4

Just behind the pale skinned woman is a younger, less confident woman. Her ragged clothing marks her as just a commoner, and one from the slums at that. She can feel the stares and hear the whispers all around her. If she could have her way, she would have never come here, but the choice isn't hers any longer. The noble whose men had caught her that night had made it quite clear what her options were, do as he said, or die.

So here I am, a drab songbird amidst a bunch of peacocks, she thinks gloomily.

The line shuffles forward, and the young woman takes a step, only to have the scuffed toe of her boot catch on a not quite level paving stone. She stumbles into Karola and nearly topples the much more nobly dressed woman. She manages to catch herself and Karola before they could fall and feels her face turning red as she step back and bows her head.

"A-a thousand apologies, milady," she says quietly to the toes of her boots as she waits for the tirade she was sure to follow if her experiences with her 'benefactor' are anything to go by.


shifter

Next in line is a shifter male, just come of age. He is wearing decent clothes, though they have been out of fashion for a decade and are probably of a similar age. He is about 6ft and like all of his kind has a uncivilized, almost bestial face. He is clearly in good shape through hard work rather than specific training. His hands are big and if you look at them for even a few moments they clearly have retractable claws. His skin is tanned and covered in more hair than a human.

He looks slightly scared, for he had never been to the city, or any city before. And has probably seen more new people today than he has in his entire life. It is all so big

when the commotion in front of him happens he moves to help. "Are you okay," he asks the ladies.


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

I jerk as someone staggers against me, and my hand twitches towards the dagger belted at my waist. Just an accident, I tell myself, just a fresh recruit, a fresh zombie once one Cyran Warforged's sword has murdered her. Just like my mother. Best not to get too close. Everyone meets the same end, in the end, shambling and undead towards the enemy. Hard to remember I'm not one of them, sometimes.

Except she's a recruit, a cadet, and I am too.

"It's fine," I reply, supporting the young woman with what strength I have. "Watch your step, though. Warforged can hide beneath the dirt, just waiting for you to trip over them, then jump up and kill your whole unit, and there's always traps. We did the same with undead."

The dark memories haunt my eyes as I speak, almost accounting for the coldness of my touch.

"Uninjured ," I tell the man, then pause and soften it. For the first time in my long life, we're not at war. "Thank you."


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

Standing behind the shifter, gazing over the long line, has been the silent and imperial form of one of the Warforged. Dressed in armor that compliments and reinforces the more vulnerable sections of his composite plate, he bares the uniform of a soldier that has been mended but seen much use. The plating is a dark,iron grey with sinew-like connections that are colored much like the color of old blood. A large sword is strapped to his back, as beaten and used as the Warforged himself.

His body has the shaping of a male, standing well over six feet tall. The heavy thuds of his steps can be heard every time that the line moves along. For those who look back, they can see the burning glow of green light emanate from his eyes as he studies the world around him. Scuff marks, dents, and other small damages seem to still exist on him, superficial damage that does not impede but he wear like a badge of honor.

It is the mention of his kind that attracts Custos's attention, his eyes centering in on the three in front of him. With a low voice, slow and melodious, he would speak up.

"The cadet is correct. Ambush via unusual tactics is a preferred maneuver of the undead as well as my kind. Deep waters, thick forests, underground, are all acceptable ambush points. He looked between the three of them and the thought came to him then. "Try not to scare them. That is what Cornelius would advise." -The Warforged thought silently to himself.

He would step in closer and attempt a smile. Attempt being the key word, his face was not constructed with the ability to truly smile in mind. It was a moment of the Uncanny Valley as he looked between before bowing his head slowly.

"I apologize for rudely entering your conversation without prior introductions. I am Custos." The low voice seemed to drone on, the inflections subtle but there. "Is this a discussion of small unit tactics? I would like to observe and give my input if so."


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"War is rude," I reply. "Karnath has enough experts in war, I think. We must learn the arts of a military at peace. Diplomacy. De-escalation. That peace is something we must defend. I hope we won't need small unit tactics," I sigh, "but I suppose we'd better practice them anyway."


shifter

"I know nothing about war, but I do know that something doesn't have to be wearing a uniform to be trying to kill you or take everything you own."


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"Excellent point, lady. There are many things more important in the future than war, though war is usually in the future. Be it among the five nations or external forces beyond our control, conflict is and has always been a foregone conclusion."

The half-elf man steps up to the group, the only ones talking loudly in a line of otherwise subdued cadets. He wears finely-crafted clothing of a fashion not common in Khorvaire, primarily dark in color with of gold- and silver-colored embroidery. His face bears the faint stains of ink; it is clear that at some point he had ritually decorated his face with patterns of dark inks. Despite his strange appearance, he seems cordial.


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

"War is ugly." Custos would respond, his head nodding slightly towards the woman in agreement. "You wish for peace?" His words were very blunt and to the point but she had caught his attention. Custos had a very singular purpose for coming here to Rekkenmark.

When the shifter spoke, the Warforged's unflinching stare would move to the man. "Indeed. Mercenaries, wild beasts, stranger things. There is much that has gone unnoticed here in Khorvaire. Even here in Rekkenmark."

When the half-elf approaches, Custos readjusts where he stands and makes room for the man, giving him room at their small gathering. His appearance was strange, unusual in its style and color. The ink stains upon his face are an odd choice as well, gaining the Warforged's curiousity.

"It is an unfortunate scenario. We must use proper tactics to shift the world into a more advantageous position." Custos would grow quiet then, retreating into his thoughs and taking the time to study those that were at least speaking with him politely. There were quite a few that disliked the Warforged, they were a reminder of the shameful and terrible acts that war brought to the world. Custos enjoyed the moment quietly to himself, savoring and analyzing the interaction.


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"people have always been artisans in the craft of tragedy, but only war can mass produce it. Living flesh made undead warrior- automatons, base metal made living warrior-slaves. The atrocities we make, and those they make in turn... The next war will last only for a Mourning," I say, "then the world will belong only to the shambling dead. Whatever evils lie in our pasts, we must work together to prevent such a catastrophe. The five - four - nations must stand together, and to that end we must rebuild their trust in the honour of the Karnath's military."


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"War is an art. However, art is as much about negative space is as is about what paint you put to canvas. As much about what you don't say as what you say. So, too, are times of peace a necessary part of the art of war."

"As for shifting the world into an advantageous position, as you say, the world is not a single enemy that you can grapple into submission. You'd do as well to grapple the sands in the desert or raindrops in the storm."


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

One of the people in line said, "Hey, be quiet. They are starting to see who can use a sword."

Indeed, they were beginning trials with wooden swords. The swords were made of pine from the forests of Karrnath. Each sword was cut to be a short sword. This must be the last interview of the day.


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

Custos stood quietly, listening to the elf and the woman speak. They spoke eloquently and Custos took in their words, their viewpoints,and internalized them in his own thinking mind. He nodded in regards to Karola's points, the woman was wordy but she spoke of a goal that fit with his own point of view.

"Affirmative. Khorvaire must be stabilized and this academy offers an opportunity for ones such as ourselves to do so." He looked back towards the elf, the metal brows coming together to some semblance of confusion. "Not at all. It is more of a force than a singular entity. With many fronts, many battles."

Custos grew silent again, looking forward as he watched the trials begin. Swords made of pine, practice weapons. Custos almost appeared displeased, he had not expected that there would be a lack of variety. "I must keep the weight difference in mind..." He mused to himself.


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"Ugh, swords. I bored of those two decades ago."


shifter

"I have used a similar blade once or twice, there are a couple of examples in my village though many are longer. More suited for slashing rather than thrusting. How are we to do this? In pairs?"


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

Ilbryn shrugs, and looks around for some officiant who might have the answer.


Female Human Slayer 1 HP: 9/11 NL: 0 | AC 16/13/13 | F +2, R +5, W+1 | Per:+5, Init: +5 | Arrows: 39 | Daggers: 4

"Y-yes, I-I'm fine," she stammers in answer to Kutishek's answer before feeling herself overwhelmed by the sudden gathering around her. She was already nervous about today, and suddenly finding herself in the middle of a mess of people chatting about things she didn't have a hope of understanding (war is an art?) and does her best to slip away without losing her place in line.

Then she sees the swords they are supposed to use, and almost by instinct begins to pick apart the other's stances and routines as they begin warming up. They seemed to be about the right length, but the shape of the blade wasn't like the longknife she was used to, and it seemed to be weighted differently. Not that it mattered. She would have to figure out how to best use the blade if she was going to survive. All she'd been told to do was get into the Academy. If she succeeded, they'd give her another task. If she failed, she was as good as dead.


Female Kalashtar Soulknife 1/Spiritualist (Fractured Mind) 1 | HP 15/15 | AC 15, FF 12, Touch 13 | F +2, R +5, W +4 | Init +3, Perc +4

A young kalashtar woman, the clothes under her armor finely pressed, stood motionless while watching and listening to the group in front of her. Truly the brightest and finest of Karrnath! Just as my parents said of their experience at Rekkenmark, it will be fine training for body and mind with classmates such as these. Perhaps I should interject to remind them that there are far more than 4 nations on this world... As she began to speak, someone else spoke up about testing their skills with swords.

Malavakri's eyes gleamed briefly before she composed herself again. The wooden swords were crude compared to what she could conjure with a thought. But her parents had trained her with such weapons nearly as soon as she could walk. She focused on her memories of that training, and let the sensations drift back to her.

It was time for Rekkenmark to see what Malavakri was capable of.


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

Soon, the swords were given to the party. Then they were asked to show their form with the sword. To perform a couple of basic maneuvers(this requires Martial Weapon Proficiency). "Those that can demonstrate their proficiency with the sword will be inducted into the intermediate swordfighting class" says one of the teachers. "Those who can't, will be taught basic swordsmanship."

After those who shown their basic maneuvers had finished, it was the group's turn to demonstrate their proficiency.

====================================================================

Note: There are a thousand different styles in the real world, and you can separate them by geography. This is Karrnathi Swordsmanship, and think of it like the German school.


Female Human Slayer 1 HP: 9/11 NL: 0 | AC 16/13/13 | F +2, R +5, W+1 | Per:+5, Init: +5 | Arrows: 39 | Daggers: 4

Attack Shortsword (To be a little flashy with it): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Garra takes a moment to get used to the feel of the waster they hand her. She slashes and thrusts with it a few times with each hand before stepping out into the open area for the demonstrations. She drops into a low stance and begins working through a dizzying attack routine that has her circling an invisible opponent while stabbing and slashing them. She holds the waster in a reverse grip with the blade against her forearm. Everything about her style and form screams that she's had no formal training in how to use a blade, or even had an instructor. She's a gutter-fighter that has adapted whatever she could see well enough for her use. More than that, she has skill and confidence that can only come from being familiar with a blade. She learned to fight and survive in the slums, and even if her forms and stances are a little sloppy, there's a brutal efficiency that isn't present in the more formal styles some of the more nobly born cadets used.


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"Laucian, lend me your bladed arm." Ilbryn intones, calling upon an ancient spirit as if he were speaking to the man next to him. In response to the quizzical look he gets, he snatches the wooden sword and swings it about in a distinctly elven sort of way - equal parts flourish and deadliness - as if it were a scimitar wielded by a true Valenar Revenant.

standard action to channel a spirit ally to gain Martial Weapon proficiency to pass this test.

However, nearing the end of his test (1 minute later) he makes a critical blunder, making it obvious to anyone who knows about magic that he had perhaps used an ability to enhance his skill, and would be better suited to basic swordsmanship classes.


shifter

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

For some reason the shifter cannot find a good grip on his practice sword, perhaps due to the differences between his physiology and a human's, so his blocks and thrusts appear weak and untrained. "I swear I have done this before, but something about this blade doesn't sit right in my hand."


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Custos will grip the training sword in his palm, almost seeming to test the feel of it before he goes into combat. To those who have seen fighters before, his movements are quick, forceful, and deadly. He seemlessly switches from one-handed fighting to two-handed fighting, putting on a powerful display for his observers. He is set to join the intermediate swordsmanship lessons.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Custos studies the others, watching the half-elf fight with unbelievable skill. The end of the fight has that small hiccup but Custos makes no mention of it. Everyone has their misstep, he should be fortunate it is in practice. Otherwise, he waits with the other cadets for the testing to be done.


Female Kalashtar Soulknife 1/Spiritualist (Fractured Mind) 1 | HP 15/15 | AC 15, FF 12, Touch 13 | F +2, R +5, W +4 | Init +3, Perc +4

1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 - 4 = 5

Alas, no martial weapon proficiency

Malavakri confidently takes the weapon and proceeds to go through her daily practice attack forms... but fumbles the sword, unused to the wooden weapon. This is not how this day should go! Focus!!

Unfortunately, it has been too long since she held an actual physical sword like this, and her muscle memory is far too tuned to her mindblades. With growing frustration making the situation worse, she concedes to drop the sword back where she picked it up from.

With a deep breath she tries to clear her mind. Bowing to the instructors testing them, she politely asks, "Can I try again, but with a weapon of my choosing?"


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"No," Karola says. 'I know daggers, not swords," she takes the wooden blade, and, experimentally, tries the kind of slash that might work with a smaller, lighter blade, "but this is too long, and it metal, too heavy," she says with a rueful smile. "I'll be needing the basic training I think."


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

The master of swords thought that Malavakri's request was odd. "Very well, you may try again with a weapon of their own choosing." Later, he put Custos and Garra into intermediate swordsmanship. The rest: except Malavakri -- were placed into beginning swordsmanship. Malavakri was given a second chance.

Soon, the longswords would be given. The only exception was the Karrnathi rapier, which would be given to Garra.

75 xp given to everyone who participated.


Female Kalashtar Soulknife 1/Spiritualist (Fractured Mind) 1 | HP 15/15 | AC 15, FF 12, Touch 13 | F +2, R +5, W +4 | Init +3, Perc +4

Malavakri thanks the master of swords and picks up one of the wooden weapons again. Then she closes her eyes and focuses her mind. She mentally asks the spirit within her to guide her hand. Glowing red energy about the same size as the wooden sword emerges from her closed fist.

She then rapidly goes through several of her attack stances, more confident in her proficiency with the mindblade. Then, to finish off, she flicks her wrist causing a portion of the glowing blade to fly off, ricochet off the ground and two walls to strike the wooden sword in her other hand.

Manifests Trick Shot as an immediate action - Doesn't affect attack roll, but hopefully looks impressive.

Throw Mindblade: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 Whoops! Was hoping not to damage the sword too much - if she even hit it.


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

You hit it. IT disappears with a flash of light.

The master of swords put the cleric, the ranger, and the hedgewitch into the basic swordsmanship class. Which is considered to be remedial by most of the applicants. Custos and Garra were placed in Intermediate swordsmanship studies. Garra had a decision to make whether to train in Karrnath's version of the Arte of Defence (German Swordsmanship), because of the art she displayed with the short sword.

Everyone else, but Garra, received a Rekkenmark longsword. Although some of the group had to learn how to use it. Malavakri was the only one that did not recieve a longsword, being a soulknife instead.

Then the group would be put into barracks. Fortunately, the group was assigned barracks C-3.


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"Well, that could have gone better. Thankfully, I'm sure there has to be more to this than swordplay."


shifter

"why they put such a focus on a single weapon I don't understand, I am more of a brawler than a swordsman."


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"I've seen many a mage run clean through," I shudder. "Some of them were my friends. There was power in a sword, in this Last War, but in the next, no swords' strength will be enough. Honour and showmanship, even with a blade, must keep this peace."

I pause.

"Barrack cee-three. It seems we will have the chance for many more such discussions. Maybe we'll become the warrior-philosopher's Karnath needs after all."


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"I agree. Any weapon can lend power to a man, but words can lend power to a nation."


Female Human Slayer 1 HP: 9/11 NL: 0 | AC 16/13/13 | F +2, R +5, W+1 | Per:+5, Init: +5 | Arrows: 39 | Daggers: 4

Garra accepts the offer after pondering the consequences of standing out so much. She was only told that she had to be admitted, and her "benefactors" had failed to stipulate how much attention was too much. Besides, she could use every advantage she could get if it all went south on her.

She walked in silence to the barracks they'd been assigned, and prayed to whatever god would listen that her "patrons" would forget about her.

Karola Kraal wrote:
"Barrack cee-three. It seems we will have the chance for many more such discussions. Maybe we'll become the warrior-philosopher's Karnath needs after all."

Great, more conversations I don't have a hope of understanding.

Her steps become a little more heavy as she followed the group.


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

Custos seemed fine with the longsword, though his stance always seemed to change despite the teacher's insistence to wield the blade with one hand. He would listen for a moment before reverting back to his two-handed stance, calmly discussing the advantage of using his maximum strength and leverage. In the end, they let the Warforged do as he wished, though the construct kept the longsword they have given upon his hip.

Within the barracks, Custos remained relatively quiet. He observed the three who were discussing the tests, some complaining of their focus on swordsmanship while others. He cleared his voice, speaking slowly to the three.

"A uniform, a standard weapon, creates cohesion and similarity. It helps present a solid force, not a disorganized group of individuals." He seemed to stop, considering the fact that he may have spoken out of line. These three spoke so well, like Cornelius had. "It was the same when I was first created. A sword was given to us all, we all learned the same steps, the same moves. Only later, through experience, development, and observation, did more unique combative styles begin to appear."

He slowed down though, watching the girl who seemed heartbroken walking behind the three of them. She had fought savagely, her instincts natural and vicious. There was not a delicate hand, she had learned from necessity. He would move right in front of her, looking down at her from his high height.

"You fight with poor discipline but with great instincts. You have fought to kill, to survive, haven't you?" They were questions of the most personal and blunt sense. His head would turn slightly as he spoke. "I wish to train with you. You have an unpredictable nature that would be good to learn from. In time, will you spar with me?"

His eyes twitched over towards the kalashtar as she approached. He had seen psionics in combat before, he was even witness to some of the very few yet powerfully skilled Psiforged. "You mind is precise, deadly. I would wish to spar with you as well."


Female Human Slayer 1 HP: 9/11 NL: 0 | AC 16/13/13 | F +2, R +5, W+1 | Per:+5, Init: +5 | Arrows: 39 | Daggers: 4

I'd say Garra's more resigned than heartbroken. After all, she's practically the only uneducated person in the group, and philosophy isn't something you pick up on the streets, unless it's the rough and gritty kind.

Before Garra can tell the nosy tin-man to kindly shove off and leave his nose out of her business, she's being asked if she'd spar with him. The sudden interest made her suspicious, after all, no one paid much attention to her unless they wanted something, but there's something in the back of Garra's mind that causes her to bite off the response she was about to give.

"If m'lord wishes it," she answers formally. That was something that she'd learned from an early age, a gutter rat was lower than everyone else on the social ladder, and you always properly address you betters.


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

After Malavakri posts, time will pass.


Female Kalashtar Soulknife 1/Spiritualist (Fractured Mind) 1 | HP 15/15 | AC 15, FF 12, Touch 13 | F +2, R +5, W +4 | Init +3, Perc +4
Custos The Sentinel wrote:
His eyes twitched over towards the kalashtar as she approached. He had seen psionics in combat before, he was even witness to some of the very few yet powerfully skilled Psiforged. "You mind is precise, deadly. I would...

The kalashtar bows to the warforged, "I would be honored to spar with you, my new compatriot."

She looks at the others who were chatting earlier, "My name is Malavakri, born in Karrnath, but kalashtar only the second generation removed from our homeland. It is my privilege to begin this journey with you all. My hope is to learn together and bring honor and glory to our peoples." With another bow, she finishes her brief speech that she practiced for this day. Then Malavakri greets the others less formally, learning what she can about them and settling in for the training ahead.


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

Adding to the kalashtar's speech, the half-elf continues, "And I am Ilbryn ir'Manimar. Though my tree grew from Aereni soil, the branches spread even to this grim land, the land from which the seed fell in the first place."


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"Karola Kraal," I introduce myself. "My father died invading Cyre, my mother and just about everyone I knew died when the Cyran's invaded us and raised their estate to the ground. I was thirteen, and I've been fighting that damned war ever since. I wanted the Cyrans to pay, you understand, for the longest time," I slump. "Now they're all dead, and not a jot of joy does it bring me," boneless, I slide backwards onto my bunk. "I'm just... tired," I say.


shifter

"I am kutishek, from a small village on the edge of the karrn forest called Tros. I am not entirely sure how I got accepted into this place."


Male Human Psion 10/Atlanteologist 10

Looks like your characters are getting to know each other, still. One more day of this and I'll start you on your first adventure.


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

LOL, fair enough. I shouldn't do posts on Nyquil but here I am nonetheless. Heartbroken was the only word that came to mind, blame it on the Warforged's inability to really get humans yet. :P

The strangest sound would leave the Warforged at the mention of "m'lord", a laugh. It had that monotonous tone but it still held the mirth of a full-belly laugh.

"I am no lord. None of us are now. We are soldiers, one and all." He turned and listened to each person introduce themselves, watching them carefully and studying their faces. The look of exhaustion upon Karolla, the poise and regality of both the kalashtar and the half-elf's introduction.

"You may call me Custos. It was the name given to me by the man who rescued me from deep within the Mournlands. It is with his connections that I was selected to become a cadet within the most honorable Rekkenmark Academy. He looked down at the shy woman, nodding towards her.

"What is your name, comrade?"


Female Human Slayer 1 HP: 9/11 NL: 0 | AC 16/13/13 | F +2, R +5, W+1 | Per:+5, Init: +5 | Arrows: 39 | Daggers: 4

Riiiiiight. Bet you my last copper that the nobles don't see it that way.

Garra just shrugs and remains quiet until she notices that all eyes are now on her.

"I-I'm Garra," she stammers out, "just Garra. I'm not anyone special."


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"War doesn't distinguish," Karola says. "It grinds us all down until we're ground up, then we raise the bodies from the dead and march them back into battle. Commoner or noble, grey zombie flesh or bared skeletal bones all look alike. Whatever peace we can build for Karnath now, warforged and shifter, noble and or commoner, will be built together, or nothing will be built at all. Besides," Karola barks a short, horrible laugh, "in war, it's only the monsters who stand out."


HP: 16/16 AC: 19 (20) FF: 18 (19) TA: 11 Fort: +5 Ref: +1 Will: +3, Init: +2, Per: +6, Hero Points: 1

Custos seemed to frown at the mention that she wasn't anyone special at all. The thought seemed illogical, this was where the sons of kings would be sent to train in the arts of war. To be here and to be "nothing special" seemed to a paradox of some sort. He didn't push her though, the girl seemed nervous enough as it was.

The Warforged made his way down the aisle, looking over the bunks. Custos wasn't foolish enough to believe that they weren't being watched. A Shifter, a commoner, and a Warforged all at Rekkenmark? Those of older, bluer blood might be already eyeing them as target.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Those low-burning green eyes would look upon Karolla, his face changing into that mockery of a smile. "I am sorry for the lost of your comrades, I too lost many in The Last War. You seem to have a hatred for the undead that are common to Karnathi tactics. Why is that?"


Female Dhampir Cleric 1, Fort+3 Ref+1 Will+6 AC15 Init+1 Percept+6 SenseMotive+7 XP250 GP102

"I don't hate the undead," I reply. "The willful among them are just... people, no different you or I. The will-less are just automatons, and there's no more sense in hating them than a sword or a shovel. The things that that shovel's existence has made possible, the use people have made of that shovel... the things I've done with it..." I sigh. "I'm emptied out of hate, even for myself. The future will be built by the survivors, and the Last War is one only the awful survived." I blink. "No offence intended. I neither judge nor ask your history."


M Half-Elf (Aerenal) Hedgewitch (TG) 1

"I'm glad I missed it, then."

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