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The Seer's Journey - DM Downrightamazed

Game Master downrightamazed

A young refugee girl, blessed by the gods with foresight, is accompanied by six warriors to one of the most dangerous places in the world, where a great hero will die.

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Goblin, you can hit "Preview" instead of "Submit Post" to check the results of your rolls.

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

How many people are you looking for DRA?

Male Human Rogue(Poisoner) 5/ Shadowdancer 6| AC23 T17 F18; HP 88/88, CMD 22, F/R/W 6/14/7, Percep +20 Drkvsn 60', Init +6

When rolling 4d6 for stats, don't we drop the lowest of the 4 dice?

But more importantly, Welcome Goblin! Great to have a new player on board! : )

And Barcus if you're joining this group man that would Rock!

Yeah, Jorzan is right, we do indeed drop the lowest dice on 4d6 rolls.

Recruitment Thread wrote:
For each attribute, roll 4d6, dropping the lowest die. If you rolled less than a 7, re-roll, i.e., 7 is my minimum allowed attribute score.

In that case, the rolls I generated were: 17, 17, 17, 15, 13, 13. Not quite so absurd, but still a 55 point buy.

Goblin: Are you settled on playing a wizard with a cohort, then?

DM Downrightamazed wrote:

Goblin: Hit points are max+CON at first level, roll plus CON at every other level.


Please adjust your HP totals to reflect this. Cohort stats must be done using the "heroic NPC" stat block in the core book: 15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8, assign as you wish.

I know you're excited to get going, and I appreciate that, but please wait for answers to your questions before going off half-cocked, 'kay? I don't know where that "re-roll 1's for hit points" thing came from, but it's a house rule I do not use.

Ok you ot it

Yes an Elven Wizard with a cohort ranger to help us in going overland.

DM Barcas wrote:
Goblin, you can hit "Preview" instead of "Submit Post" to check the results of your rolls.

Ok I was wondering how people got to see what they were rolling so that they could react to it. Thank you.

For those of you play wizards what schools are better than others to specialize in or restrict? Is the Universalist a good option I was looking at that one pretty hard, but people don't seem to like it in the message boards.

Heading out to a father's day event. See you all later.


Male Human Rogue(Poisoner) 5/ Shadowdancer 6| AC23 T17 F18; HP 88/88, CMD 22, F/R/W 6/14/7, Percep +20 Drkvsn 60', Init +6

Any interest in playing a Druid, Barcus? We are still (technically at least) in the midst of a long cross country journey.

Just a thought. I know whatever you pick will be great.

PS damn nice rolls sir!

Male Human Fighter 8, Ranger 3

I think we're actually okay in the wilderness skills department, just in case fixing a perceived lack there was your motivation for selecting that cohort. Kelne and Jorzan both have reasonable skills there.

I think all the different schools have their benefits. The reason people may dislike the universalist school though is that you do sacrifice that extra specialist spell slot at each level, which adds up to a fair amount of spell-slinging. If you want to go for the specialist route, have a look at the different schools on the spell lists and see if there's any with spells you'd seldom if ever use.

Male Human Fighter 8, Ranger 3

Barcas: If you don't mind, I'd like to give a few people outside the existing group a shot at that extra character slot. It's not a personal reflection on you, but you are already in two of the campaigns, and if we keep filling empty slots from within the group, eventually the players in each thread are going to start looking quite similar.


Male Human Rogue(Poisoner) 5/ Shadowdancer 6| AC23 T17 F18; HP 88/88, CMD 22, F/R/W 6/14/7, Percep +20 Drkvsn 60', Init +6

I have nothing against having more and new people come into the game, but at the same time, having a player join who's proven to be a great and reliable poster isn't certainly not a bad thing in my book.

And as for characters looking similar, just take a look at the two characters Barcus is currently playing. Personally I don't find Kyras and Damian to be much alike at all. IMHO, a good player let's each character play itself (for the most part) thus letting it's uniqueness shine forth. Issac certainly seems to me to be the type of player who can and does do this.

Perhaps we could do it like a regular recruitment and DRA can pick the character submissions who best fit in with the group and story line? That way anyone who wishes to can submit a character and we'll be lucky to get the best of the best joining us, whoever that may be.

Yeah, I agree with both you guys, honestly. Justahl? Gray? Either of you guys have anything to add? Right now I frankly want to see both; Kelne's suggestion, and Barcas' new character.

Aasimar Paladin (Shining Knight) L11 | AC29 (t11,ff28) | CMD28 | hp 133/133 | Save F17 R11 W13 | Percep +2 (Nouhves Percep +6)

Let him compete fairly!

Male Human Fighter 8, Ranger 3

Jorzan: Absolutely agreed on the great and reliable front, and I'm confident that the people I'm thinking of qualify as such. It's just a matter of seeing who, if anyone, bites.

The character I thought up is a Samsaran (that's the self-reincarnating race) female Mystic Theurge. Her hook is that she has been coming to the University of Stormfare in each of her reincarnations, where she is a half-believed legend called the Ghost of the Tower. By tradition, the administration leaves an empty office in one of the old towers for her to work in. She's been trying for lifetimes to figure out the exact details of a prophecy that she herself pronounced in a past life many thousands of years ago. This prophecy has something to do with all of the mayhem going on right now with Cassandra. She's a bit spooky and incredibly smart. She'd probably play a lot like the Doctor, though not so angry at Nine, not so quick and charming as Ten, and not so absent-minded as Eleven. (I never watched Classic Who, but I think Two might be the most similar choice.)

Male Human Rogue(Poisoner) 5/ Shadowdancer 6| AC23 T17 F18; HP 88/88, CMD 22, F/R/W 6/14/7, Percep +20 Drkvsn 60', Init +6

As I'm sure we all know high calibre players, I'd be very interested to have an invite only open call competition and see what kind of submissions they can all put up for one of the most awesome D&D threads on any board, anywhere.

Right now, Barcus has my vote (course, he's the only one who's submitted so far, so....; ) But seriously, I like the prophecy angle and a Dr Who-ish PC sounds cool. And Mystic Theurge's are always handy to have around.

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

That would be interesting to see what everyone comes up with. :)

Well if DM Barcus would like to play the spell caster I could play a fighter type. I am sure he will be better at the magic user than I would be. The stats I rolled would make a great Dwarven fighter.

I do have the wizard in hero forge though if DRA has already put a lot of prep into bring him in.

Male Human Fighter 8, Ranger 3

Barcas: Yep, definitely looks interesting.

Goblin: Since we've got all the traditional roles filled, I see no reason we can't have a bit of doubling up. Besides which, a wizard does have access to higher level spells than a mystic theurge, who sacrifices those higher level spells for flexibility.

DRA's campaigns need more dwarves. None of the PBP games have any dwarves.

That said, come up with the concept first and make the mechanics and party fit together later.

DM Barcus since you sound like you might be the one to ask, If I go Wizard with transmutation specialty and necromancy and divination restriction, and my intelligence is 20. At 8th level how many spells do I get to write into my spellbook? Heroforge isn't real clear on that. I don't want to load up the book to find out I only get three of each level or something.

DRA how do you like to play material components in your world. I saw that the sorcerer sometimes bought components, but I thought sorcerers didnt need them.

In my character creation can I spend over 5k on my magic items? I was looking at mithril armor and even +1 was over the limit.

Free: All 0th, 9 1st, 4 2nd, 4 3rd, 4 4th. 2 of each spell level are transmutation.

Any more is paid for.

Male Silastrix Magus (Bladebound Kensai) 11 (HP 83/83 AC 30, T 23, Flat 11 - F+9 R+9 W+8 Init +12; Senses: Darkvision 60ft Low-Light Vision (X2), Per +13

22 but you can also research spells and add them to your spell book. So that's not an exact amount.
editOops 21 I messed up....look at Barcas his is better than mine.

Male Human Fighter 8, Ranger 3

Indeed. Any extra spells you like the looks of you can purchase scrolls for and make a roll to scribe them into your spellbook. I find that eats up a bit in the way of funds, but it's defeinitely worthwhile.

The 5K limit per item was for 6th level characters, so that's probably gone up a bit. I'm guessing no more than a quarter of your level 8 starting wealth on a single item, though you'd have to check with DRA.

5d10 ⇒ (9, 9, 1, 6, 9) = 34

Yeah I will wait for him to let me know before I buy.

Kelne, If I played a fighter type would it bug you?

1d12 ⇒ 10

DM Barcus your character race is from the Jade Regent adveture path right? Did play that adventure?

Male Human Fighter 8, Ranger 3

Not in the least. I'm confident the two characters could be easily distinguished.

1d12 ⇒ 12

Ok guys unless someone has a complaint I am working on another character idea as a backup alternate. He is a Dwarf fighter type with two levels of barbarian thrown in for some added "character."

DM Only:
Would you allow me to play this:
Animal Fury (Ex)

Benefit: While raging, the barbarian gains a bite attack. If used as part of a full attack action, the bite attack is made at the barbarian's full base attack bonus–5. If the bite hits, it deals 1d4 points of damage (assuming the barbarian is Medium; 1d3 points of damage if Small) plus half the barbarian's Strength modifier. A barbarian can make a bite attack as part of the action to maintain or break free from a grapple. This attack is resolved before the grapple check is made. If the bite attack hits, any grapple checks made by the barbarian against the target this round are at a +2 bonus.

As this as well? Hobnail boot to the ____ (Ex)

Benefit: While raging, the barbarian gains a hobnail boot attack. If used as part of a full attack action, the Hobnail boot to the ____ is made at the barbarian's full base attack bonus–5. If the kick hits, it deals 1d4 points of damage (assuming the barbarian is Medium; 1d3 points of damage if Small) plus half the barbarian's Strength modifier. A barbarian can make a Hobnail boot to the ____ as part of the action to maintain or break free from a grapple. This attack is resolved before the grapple check is made. If the Hobnail boot to the ____ , any grapple checks made by the barbarian against the target this round are at a +2 bonus.

Does anyone know if Undercommon is used in this game? I am doing my languages.

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

@Goblin: I'm not sure about undercommon but Dra will give that ruling shortly. Also to make it easier on yourself and him, finish up your character concept and then post a list of all the questions. Along with the character design that way you can just tweak it and be good to go. :) It will also help you to avoid having to wait several hours or days before getting an answer~

Especially since DRA usually takes weekends off, a DM needs there rest ;)

That's my two cents and I look forward to seeing both character concepts. :)

The Goblin wrote:
DRA how do you like to play material components in your world. I saw that the sorcerer sometimes bought components, but I thought sorcerers didnt need them.

[ooc]I handwave material components. If you want to incorporate them into your posts for cool descriptions, as many folks do, then that's way rad, but I don't keep track of 'em. I generally don't hassle about food either. I mean, this isn't the kind of game where you spend time haggling over the price of jerky or something.

The Goblin wrote:
In my character creation can I spend over 5k on my magic items? I was looking at mithril armor and even +1 was over the limit.

The per-item limit applies to everything, including magic items, but at level 8 it should be 6k. Sorry, thought I mentioned that but I must have forgotten. 6000gp is your max for a single item.

As for the "Hobnail Boot" thing you presented, that's quite fine with me. And don't worry about my prep time w/r/t which character you're gonna build; I don't do any intro prep until the build is done. As Min and others have mentioned, go ahead and wrap up your build(s), then make the necessary profiles and link to them so people can check 'em out.

Male Dwarf Fighter 7/Barbarian 2 AC29 HP128 F+14 W+6 R+6 Perception +14

Ok guys I have my character done in Heroforge and I started a profile with some basics. I will add more in the next day or so.

Male Human Rogue(Poisoner) 5/ Shadowdancer 6| AC23 T17 F18; HP 88/88, CMD 22, F/R/W 6/14/7, Percep +20 Drkvsn 60', Init +6

Sounds very much like Hurin is the way to go with you Goblin, as you'll have way more fun playing a character you're comfortable with.

And as well, hooray for a dwarf in the game! I've always liked the hairy little fellas (course I'd get socked in the mouth for calling one that ; ) and so have also missed seeing them in DRA's games. So welcome aboard Hurin!

Male Silastrix Magus (Bladebound Kensai) 11 (HP 83/83 AC 30, T 23, Flat 11 - F+9 R+9 W+8 Init +12; Senses: Darkvision 60ft Low-Light Vision (X2), Per +13

We've met a dwarf does that count?

So, one of the interesting things about Samsarans from the ARG is that they can trade their racial ability to add two skills as class skills to add a number of spells to a spellcasting class's spell list. For instance, if the first level is a cleric with Wisdom 18, she can add 5 divine spells of any level to her own spell list, regardless of what class they normally belong to. So far, I've selected Faerie Fire and Reincarnation from the Druid spell list. Any other divine suggestions from Druid or Inquisitor?

Additionally, if I went with Wizard first, anyone have 5 decent options from the Magus, Summoner, or Bard lists? She's not a blaster or anything, so mostly support spells.

Her wizard school is Divination (Foresight) and her domains are Fate and Wards. Her diety is Magdh, a minor deity based on the Greek fates. Normally, I'd pick Pharasma as the goddess of prophecy, but I wouldn't want to step on Gray's toes.

Male Dwarf Fighter 7/Barbarian 2 AC29 HP128 F+14 W+6 R+6 Perception +14

Wanted to give you my first wall of text. Hope you like it.

“What the @#$% did you just say to me?!” the dwarf growled threateningly, but with just enough inflection of disbelief that those around him didn’t jump overboard.

“I said! Toss it on da wharf! Are you deaf lately?” *Hurumph!* . . . *Chuckle* . . . “maybe this is why your people are being not liking dah water man, it makes you distant or something the longer we are out, no? Is something wrong witchu man? You da seasick?” twittered the fishing boat skipper.

“Er, uhh , no. No! I just didn’t hear ye right the first time tis all!” Hurin replied as he tossed the wadded nets down onto the wharf where the nimble fingered Halflings waited to earn their keep mending the nets of the fishing fleets that trolled the waters around Omskoldsv.

Hurin knew the colorfully dressed human from some island in the salt ocean was right though, these longer haul trips had made him distant, because they gave him too much time to think. And honestly Hurin didn’t really like being out on the boat this long either, he wasn’t scared of the water, actually he swam quite well, it didn’t give him anxiety exactly either, it just didn’t feel right not having solid ground under his feet for so many days. But, he reflected at least he was feeling something right. The pain was bad some times---like right now . . . “ARRRRRGGHHH! What the . . . TORAG THAT HURTS! Get the #$%^ off me! . . . Jann what in the nine hells kinda fish is this darn thing! Ow! . . . s@!* look at the teeth marks! . . . I’m bleedin like I got hit with a vorpal . . . Gods me flippin hand! Look at this eel thing Jann! It latched onto me hand while I was sortin out the darned brown trout into the baskets. Oh yeah ugly! Bite me will ye! I’ll put me boot to your long toothed tube eyed stupid looking gaping mouth silvery head! I’ll make you into a ugly tuna fish salad right here on the deck.”

“No! Standback! That’s a harvester fish and very dangerous, it is known! It is a servant of the deep old ones! Don’t let it be getting heself off da deck man! Here pin it with da gaff.”

“A what fish? Whoa hey! Careful with that damn bill blade Jann or you’ll be take me other hand off! *SHONK!* Damn Jann you sank that polearm darn near into the bilge man! . . . Eh? What in the 3 tarnations is that stickin out of its busted innards? Is that a human arm!?”

“Yes, da harvester fishes, d’hey farm the limbs of those the deep old ones pull to the lake floor, where no man and no light ever reach alive save those whose limbs and worse are taken to the limb farms to be made nor alive nor being dead, it is known!”

“What kind of fish tale be that one there Jann! The limb was probably some poor farmer sap that the Red Dragon Flight turds chopped up then loaded up into a catapult to launch over the walls, or even more likely some smuggler got caught up in the game, got carved up, and dumped into the bay in pieces. Limb farms indeed. *ho ho ho* An I’ll be a right jolly old elf dressed in a red suit and trimmed in white fur! *hurump* Limb farms he says.”

“D’his here no laughin matter man! You are warned, it is known, whether you decide to believe me or not is your business, but da goings on in da lake be mine man and I’ll be telling you d’his be true. Okay now we be tying off and I’ll be taking d’his here to a Cleric of Pharasma and as fate have it one just came into town.”

“Seriously Jann? You are going to take a slime covered dismembered human arm to a Cleric? And the Knucklehead trout are just coming off the bottom for the spawn!”, Hurin gumbled as he stubbed the slime covered arm derisively with his boot for good measure as he watched Jann retrieve a set of iron clamps and a heavy burlap bag from the wheelhouse. Wait, did that thing just move?!

“Yes I am being serious to you now! No more fishin until d’his things is taken care of, I’ll not be having my boat haunted by dis one’s spirit because I didn’t take care of his body proper . . .”

“Okay, maybe that sounds like a good idea because at any rate I can use some time on good solid dwarven rock.”, Hurin said while eyeing the arm with a sidelong glance.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++

Hurin shuffled through the twists towards his apartment; once again he was deep inside his thoughts. The Dwarf was vaguely aware of the smoke, every so often the vibration of a siege engine was felt underfoot and he didn’t bother look up as the shadows of the Red Dragon Flights flyers passed over him as they scouted the defenses of the walls in the fading light. In the distance the sound of battle reached his ears like ghosts whispering on the wind, but Hurin was listening to ghosts of his own in his head. A small child’s laughter mingled with the rustling of leaves and a dwarf maid singing a toddlers tune known by mothers of all races was carried to him on the breeze as he strode up the hill towards his hillside cottage with its welcoming cherry wood door. . .

Hurin reached the dull grey weathered wood of his apartment door and entered with his keys, he only had bothered to use two of the five deadbolts last time he left. Entering the two bedroom flat, he stripped off the Ill-fitting oilskin jacket and laid it over the chair at the table. He half heartedly checked to make sure no thief had stolen his gold, he didn’t have any jewels, he had sold them or drank them away after . . . He walked over to the heavy timber mantle that rested over the fireplace and lit the lamp that stood next to it.

Hurin had always been a sentimental dwarf. As a child his lived in the stories of past glory told to him by his grandsire. He especially liked the stories about his great great grandsire Grundelsoot Beholdersbane. After all he had begged his grandsire to wear the very adamantium hobnailed boots Grundelsoot had used to stomp on the Eye Tyrants eye stalks so often he was finally given the boots to use as his everyday footwear. He still had the gifts given to him by his parents on beardling day and when he had left the ranks of military service he had paid to take his old suit of armor with him. He glanced up at the mighty Adamantium Dawrven Waraxe that hung over the hearth and then hung his head. He felt a knot inside knowing that he didn’t deserve to keep and display the Torkrest Clan relic in this hovel. He knew he should take it back to the mountains to turn it over to one of the other Torkrest strongholds to be displayed in a hall of the ancestors as it deserved, but he had lacked the motivation to do it. It was hard enough getting out of bed sometimes, Hurin had lost his drive ever since the plague had taken . . .

He took down the axe with two hands with great reverence and passed a hand over its head remembering what it was like to wield it in battle defending his hills, his honor, his Thane and . . . his small family. He had taken them to the frontier of his Clan holdings, he told his good wife that they would be legends like the dwarves that founded Granite Gape and Rockhome! The Thane was going to establish a new house and would grant name status to all those who dared to enter into the venture. Besides it was fresh air and perfect for . . . for raising the girls. Back then he was so sure of himself, so driven, and so . . . happy. Made a few half hearted swings with the axe then returned it to its place on the wall. He had sworn on that axe to protect his children to the death, but it had failed him to fight off the disease that spread over the settlement survived only by those with the blessing, or curse of the stoutest of constitutions. . .

“The gods and I have done all we can, Hurin.” The weary cleric with the weeping sores had said as he swayed at the foot of the bed next to the distraught dwarf who looked down at his wife and two small children . . . so small, so tiny, so young. Begging almost in rage Hurin grasped the cleric and turned him towards him, “What can I do Father, please tell me! I will do anything! I will climb to the highest mountain! Cut down the largest tree in the forest using a herring, or cut out the bile of a dragon’s stomach if it will save them! Please just tell me!”

“Hold on to them Hurin.”, is all the Cleric had said and held on to them he had.

Father Dobell fell that night even as he still tried to tend to his stricken flock, especially the young ones, for they were the future of the clan that will honor the ancestor’s memory to keep them immortal.

Kinley had succumbed first, her cherubic cheeks covered in sores and blood weeping from her tear ducts, she had just learned to pull herself up on Hurin’s boots a few days before. He wrapped her in swaddle and gave her to Cassandra, whose blood encrusted swollen eyesockets could no longer see. His wife was at the edge of consciousness and delirious with fever, “Hurin? The baby . . . is she ok I can’t hear her.” she croaked through her ravaged throat forcing blood flecked phlegm from her lips.
“She’s here sweetheart, here hold bubbas close to your breast.” Hurin managed to keep his composure, but just barely.
“Hurin I can’t feel her nurse.” Cassandra had said.
“Just hold her sweetheart she’s . . . she’s resting quietly now.” He had said not knowing what else to say and had taken Kendall’s limp body into his own arms as he crawled into bed with them.

A few short hours later Cassandra died in a coughing fit expelling chunks of angry fetid flesh before she stopped breathing. To the end she had been concerned only for the welfare of the children. The disease had left Kendall her eyes so Hurin tried to shield the child from further scarring by carrying her to the hearth room where he rocked her in his mother in laws, now unneeded, empty rocking chair.

“It hurts dada, Is mama sleeping dada?” Kendall had said in a small and week voice. “Yes Sweetpea, she and Kinley are sleeping so we need to stay out here for a bit.”, Hurin had lied. “dada I feel tired, can you sing me and Anabel a song? Anabel feels sick and blood is coming out of her eyes, can you kiss it and make it better dada?” Almost choking with the effort Hurin took the small homemade dolly with the red yarn hair from Kendall’s trembling hand and pressed each of its button eyes to his lips then gave it a beard tickle. Kendall’s sweat soaked body shook a little, but a small smile came to her lips as she said, “silly daddy.”

Kendall was strong of heart and body like her father, her small frame wracked with disease and the chill of the fever she fought on for three days after her mother had died. Hurin burned everything he could find in the fireplace trying to keep the little girl warm. He tried all the home remedies he could remember his grandmother giving him as a child. He prayed to every god that he thought might listen, but the girl could not keep anything down and fluids kept coming from both ends. Hurin hadn’t slept in over five days. There were so few left able to walk that the pyres no longer burned and the dead lay in the streets outside. By the end of the fifth day of being violently ill Kendall had stopped shaking and was breathing evenly, but shallow. “Can you rock and hold me dada? Dada where is mama and babbas?”
Hurin picked Kendall up and settled into the rocking chair yet again-she was so light now he thought, but tried to keep the emotions from welling up in his voice and eyes as he spoke soothingly to his remaining daughter-“They are still here with us Sweetpea.”, he told her.
“But I can’t see them dada?” She questioned.
“Well not with your eyes Sweetpea, for they are . . . visiting . . . yes, visiting with our mighty ancestors in the hall of the ancients watched over by Torag himself. Now Sweetpea, you need your rest so you can get better, I will sing you a song and you try to rest your little head ok?”
“Yes my little chicken nugget?”
“Love you dada.”
“I love you too Sweetpea, now close your little eyes and I will sing you the song about the lost little sheep on the mountain.” And so Hurin did, he sang well into the night with Kendall’s little hands tangled in his beard and her sick little eyes watching his.

Hurin woke in a panic, sunlight shone into the cottage through the glass paned windows. He had fallen asleep! Luckily he had not dropped the child. He looked down at Kendall and saw that her little fingers were still tangled in his beard and her little eyes were still open and looking up at him, but they were dulled and fixed. The life had gone out of her as it had gone out of Hurin’s heart.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

Hurin dusted the urns and replaced them on the mantle, There hadn’t been enough wood for a proper pyre. The urns were symbolic, something he had bought in an effort to find some closure. . .

He had carried the bodies into the delving that was to be the heart of the new dwarfhold. Not only did Hurin posses great physical strength and stamina, he possessed knowledge of engineering as well. He buried his wife and children in the old way, by placing them under the largest stones he could find. He toiled and used the lifts of the rock works to entomb his family under the greatest granite block he could manage to move with the equipment, He did the same for all the others he could find until there were no more blocks that he could move on his own. After that he covered the bodies in stones he found outside until finally nothing was left to use but gravel from the mines and rock chips swept up from the mason’s crafting areas. He made sure to crudely chisel the names or otherwise mark each of the graves.

The few other survivors were too afraid of contracting the disease to help him with his burial efforts and left with the remaining good and treasures in order to return to the old home they had set out from, but Hurin had claimed the axe as his own, claiming that if they would not help, that he was claiming the right of leadership of the settlement that the axe was the symbol of. Whether they had left it with him out of fear or in pity he didn’t recall, because he was so deep in fatigue and sorrow at that time. Looking at the axe it reminded him of himself. Although the star metal of its blade remained sharp and gifted with enchantment, it was, but a shadow of its former glory. At some time the axe had held even more powerful magics, but had been greatly reduced after being struck by a rod of cancellation in some combat long forgotten. It was shocking how fate could change something or someone in an instant. It was the memories and the legends of its various wielders’ that made the weapon so valuable to the Torkrest Clan and to Hurin. He had sworn an oath on that blade . . . to protect his loved ones. Hurin had failed in his promise.

Hurin thought about going into the spare bedroom, but stopped himself. He had dragged his wife and children’s belongings out of the mountains on a donkey cart, he couldn’t bring himself to part with it. He had packed them into chests and then stacked them in the spare room. He used to go in there and go through and hold onto the stuff. He knew it wasn’t healthy for him. He sold his wife’s jewelry in an attempt to start anew, and then regretted it. When he went back a week later to try to repurchase it the items had already been sold to someone else and he wasn’t able to locate the new owner to try and get it back. He drank through the money and that didn’t help either, well it did, but not that much he supposed. He could have easily found work either in the guard or using his skills as an engineer, but nothing inspired him anymore and he had no conviction. He had met Jann when he had been staring down into the depths of the bay. He had initially been abrasive to the man who had politely asked him if he had been looking for work or waiting to buy fish. Hurin had demanded, “Who the hell wants to know!” and Jann had responded, “The man d’hat has brought his boat into the slip d’hat he had paid for with his own hard earned silver friend. And that man finds a dwarf just a standing there like someone cut off his beard and shat in his fresh tankard of ale! So a man asks himself, is this dwarf here to ask a man for a job, or to buy some fish, or because he is a’thinkin about drowning heself in the waters?”
“What! No I don’t want to buy any of your stinky slimy fare fish monger!” The dwarf had grumpily replied.
“Ah, d’hen a man is right the dwarf is thinking about drowning heself over whatever it is he finds heself a’thinkin about.” Jann replied with his gleaming white smile.
“No! Dwarves never commit suicide what the hell are you talking about!” Hurin grouched.

Unphased Jann continued, “Good then, you be lookin for a job then. Hop in unless you be afraid of getting a little wet and living life a little . . .

Hurin was able to crack a small smile and he returned from his thoughts and looked for tasks to perform around his small home. He owned Jann a lot, but certainly not his life, because a dwarf never considers---*KRAAA-CA-THUNK* “What the $%^# was that!” Hurin yelled dropping his broom and running to the front door. He swung open the door and saw that a giant bolder had just slammed into a building across the street. Then another clipped the brickwork of the iron fitters shop down the street. Following the arc of the siege engine hurled stone he saw the fire rimmed wall of the city and a black moon that hung low in the sky. “What the hell, my whole life there are only (however many moons DRA has in his world) in the sky and now there is . . . wait a minute is that getting bigger? Oh s~*$ that isn’t a moon it’s . . . !”
*whistling then screaming KAAPOOOOOW* as Hurin is lifted into the air then thrown clear of the ruin that used to be his home. The front door is briefly replaced by the boulder after crashing through the loft above, destroying the front wall of the dwelling and coming to rest in the threshold, before the entire structure caves in on itself. And keeps settling with secondary and tertiary crumbling as waves of dust and pulverized plaster are blown over the shocked dwarf and shattered roof riles rain down around him.

“. . . a boulder . . ..” Hurin numbly stood up and did what any self respecting dwarf in his position would do. He checked for his belt pouch and headed in to the city to have a few stiff drinks.

Holy mackerel.

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

Ha! I knew I wasn't the only one that liked walls of text! xD

DRA is doomed!

Just thought I'd suggest bolding spoken words and italicize thoughts. It makes it much easier to read. Check the "How to format your text" spoiler below the post box for how.

It's well-written, though.

Male Dwarf Fighter 7/Barbarian 2 AC29 HP128 F+14 W+6 R+6 Perception +14

Hurin was grumbling to himself and wondering how the lady of fate could make his life any more hard and miserable than it already was. He left the Retching Rabbit Saloon and turned down the street towards the Raging Swan Bar and Grill intent of finishing the deadly seven pub-crawl. Out of the sky fell a tumblers worth of warm slew that smelled of sulfur and was shot through with curdled blood. “oh just bloody well fine lady of fate!” He railed drunkenly at the black abyss of the city cavern above him with a fist, “Now you have a giant bat s!!* on me head that has a ruptured hemorrhoid! Just bloody well fine bloody bat guano on me last set of clothes mind you! What next eh?”

Hurin cleaned the bloody poopy mess off of himself using his last clean handkerchief. “Well at least you left me a clean handkerchief fickle lady of fate.” He mumbled and was just about to try to walk down the street and fish a silver out of his belt pouch, but the drinks were already starting to have their effect on him. He moved over to a street lamp to get some more light in order to see what he was doing. He had to remove the small suede pouch from his belt so he could see its contents better. Good,he still had one silver and four pieces of gold left in it. He carefully plucked the silver piece out and prepared to replace the gold in the pouch back on his belt when someone knocked into him from behind and sent the pouch flying. “Excuse me, sorry!” a human voice called out in common. Hurin dove forward into the offal of the street to grab the pouch spinning away from him. And grab it he did, but by the bottom causing the four remaining pieces of gold to spill out . . . and disappear into a storm drain. “That’s it! I am going to stomp somebody’s ass for this one! Come back here you bastards!” Hurin yelled at the two humans who looked to be brothers running through the crowd in front of him.

"A trick! A ruse! I'll not be so easily taken in! Ack!" the portly one who looked like a merchant squawked and took off at top speed to cover the last few hundred feet between himself and the gate. He nearly topples over a few other pedestrians, who all shout after him despite his steady mantra of "look out’s and "excuse me’s!”

Looking ahead, Hurin could see that the guards were watching the man’s clumsy approach, but don't seem inclined to do anything about it other than chuckle at the poor terrified merchant.

Also swearing, the man’s younger fit brother was sprinting after the man using his superior agility to avoid the pedestrians the clumsier merchant keeps bumping into. All the while the young rogue looking man kept a frustrated smile on his face while yelling "Zanjor! Brother! Stop please! You can't just run away! Not after all the time ma has spent arranging everything and all the money pa has spent! And really olga isn't that hideous! I'm sure you'll get used to her looks in a while! And the good news is her cooking is so bad you can hardly notice her body odor!"

Getting to his feet Hurin prepared to give chase when he spotted Jann coming towards him through the crowd trying to get his attention.

“Stand aside Jann those two men owe me four pieces of gold and a clean pair of pants!” Hurin stated with determination.

“Hurin, a man hates to tell you, but the boat has been sunk.” Jann said mournfully stopping the dwarfs pursuit immediately.

“What the hell happened Jann?” Hurin said with genuine concern for his friend.

“A Limbal came up from ad depths, a thing of arms and legs from da limb farm. The dead sailor man belonging to the arm must have taken his revenge for I failed to find a cleric.” The islander lamented then continued. “I found the place da cleric was said to be stayin an I went to room 320 and a man saw da door was open so I walked in when da cleric he gave no answer. And when I go into the room I see da man under the sheets so I try to wake him. Except twas no cleric there, it was a man that looked like a farmer dead by poison no less. So I dropped da arm right there where I was standing and ran all da way back to da docks! There I find my pride and joy, not a thing but the mast left above the water. The Limbal pulled itself up on and to da deck and onto the warf sinking her in da process. Guards and some adventurers put da Limbal down dey said, but that is not helpin me out now. Can I stay at your place until I can figure out what to do next?”

“Oh jeez, hey Jann I am sorry man, but my house got crushed by a siege boulder, hey look man, here is a silver piece, go get a room and something to eat you look terrible.” Hurin offered up his last silver to his friend who gladly accepted it.

Now both homeless, penniless and losing his buzz the dwarf found himself sitting at a table in the common room half listening to a bard playing bawdy tune about a cave spelunking dwarven lass and something involving a well endowed hill giant when Hurin realized many of the dwarves in the hall were gathered around one and were riled up over something. It really got his attention when a few uttered a few Oaths of War against Orimar. Curious he strolled over to the group still feeling his suds. “What has got you beardlings so worked up and swearing oaths without the council having formally declared war against the baron who is thought to be an ally of our city!” he said with a confrontational tone half hoping one would take offense and give him a good fight, nothing like a good fist to the face to help a dwarf get out of a funk after all.

“This snow elf woman has news that the Baron is behind the enemies at our gates and the baron himself has sent this.” The member of the dwarf guard replied thrusting a bundle of cloth at Hurin who reflexively took the offered package.

“And what would the Baron be sending a message for using a scrap of cloth as its wrapping.” Gaffed Hurin, knowing that the Baron of Orimar was well known for his opulence and continued to express his skepticism while he was unwrapping the small item within, “His lord ship wipes his as with silk made of gold thread and . . .!” Hurin’s voice stopped in his throat, revealed in the cloth was a dismembered finger and though it was freakishly elongated, it was easily recognizable as that of a child’s, and torn from the hand no less. “what matter of monster would do such a thing to a child?” Hurin breathed in shock.

“A Vampire . . . the Baron is a vampire and he tore this finger off a child he kidnapped and tortured the child and is holding the boy in his keep. Now he demands the surrender of the boy’s younger sibling within the hour or he will torture the boy further. We are recruiting a force of dwarves willing to take to the way gates in order to stop this monster, rescue the boy, or take revenge against those who would use such tactics and involve a child not more than ten years on this earth!” , the guard proclaimed to the cheering approval of those around him who were dwarves working their emotions into a battle rage.

Hurin slammed his open hand down on the oak slab tabletop and spilt the wood as though he had struck it with an axe clean down the middle. Who would do something like this to such a sweet innocent child, didn’t they know how important a thing a child was! The last vestiges of his mental armor cracked and his sadness, pain and memories all came spilling forth filling him with his emotions. He stood there transfixed in a way that caused some of the others present to think that he was staggered drunk or simply touched in the head.

“You’re wasting your time with this one Grumble, this is just some burnout that lives in the twists. He is a fisherman no less!” One of the dwarfs scoffed and shared a chuckle of approval with his group of friends before he was doubled over and hugging the adamantium steel toed hobnailed boot that had suddenly sprouted out of his midsection before he was lifted up by his neck by the bedraggled looking dwarf holding the dismembered human finger not an inch from his eye.


A dwarf on a mission Hurin arrived back at his ruined home. He began heaving the debris out of the way, lifting fallen timbers and clearing stones until he dung his way down to retrieve the Axe of the Thanes. He pulled it from the sundered fire place where it still remained on its mounts, undamaged by the collapse of the building around it. Freeing the axe, Hurin made quick work hacking his way to the area that was once the second bedroom venting his rage on the wood, stone and iron that was in between him and his goal.

Finally he brought the axe down on the heavy iron banded chest’s lock cleaving it in two. He ripped open the lid and began preparing himself for battle strapping on his dwarf built armor set with the visages of his ancestors piece by piece. He dusted off the reinforced and spiked darkwood shield and slung it over his left shoulder. He put his cloak on and fastened the boar headed double clasps across his chest after securing the axe harness over his right shoulder. Once he was finished brushing, oiling, braiding and adorning his beard with his ancestral beard weights, Hurin the strung the heavy leather split hide haversack over his shoulder. He reached into one of the smaller pouches expecting to find his wedding ring, but instead his gauntleted hand closed upon something soft.

With a quizzical look on his face Hurin drew the thing into the open and found himself staring into the blue button eyes of Anabel, Kendall’s beloved toy. Tears threatening to run down his face the dwarf lord smoothed the red yarn hair back and fixed the dollys pink lace dress with his large callused fingers. He brought the doll up to his lips and kissed each of its eyes, then gave a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching and gave the doll a beard tickle. “I am sorry to have failed you Cassandra and the kids, but I am even sorrier that I have dishonored your memory and the memory of my ancestors since you were taken from me. Today I have a chance to redeem myself. Today I will have a chance to bring my blade to bear against something real that it making a child to suffer the way the red death did you. Gods willing I will destroy the creatures that did this.” Hurin said drawing forth the finger to look at it again. “And should I die in this endeavor may the gods see fit to lift my spirit to the halls you now inhabit.”

Hurin carried a small bag from the wreckage and set it aside. He drew a flask of oil and poured it over the pile of children’s and women’s things and other flammable materials and set the pile alight after setting his teeth. He briefly considered placing Anabel on the bonfire as well, but clutched the doll to his neck before returning it to his bag. He located his wedding band and slipped it back on his finger.

Then with heavy metal ass kicking music blaring in the back ground he picked up the small bag he had set aside and walked in slow motion away from the blazing house behind him and towards his destiny <sorry I just had to put that part in>

Before joining the assault party at the gates, Hurin located Jann at the Juggling Gryphon Inn. The groggy human stared at the contents of the bag and blinked up at his dwarven friend who now stood before him in armed and in lordly attire. “A man doesn’t know what to say!” Jann blinked down at his fishing hand turned seigebreaker.

“Don’t say anything dam it! That is my mom’s and grandmother’s tea sets, and there is some gold pieces mixed in there as well. Use what you need to fix the boat or buy a new one if you have too. Just don’t waste the stuff and if you can keep what’s left and use it. That stuff has a lot of sentimental value to it and don’t let some pawn shop owning gnome cheat you out of it either, those are dwarf crafted and of the highest quality! I am not going to say goodbye, but if I don’t see you again . . . I want you to know . . . well that fishing with you wasn’t so bad, actually it was kind of a good thing. . . Ah hell Jann, you are the closest thing to a family I have anymore, just know that I appreciate everything you did for me, you ah, you ah were there for me when I needed it.” Hurin blundered out before turning to leave and adding over his shoulder, “Well anyway I hate farewell speeches so I am just going to go. I’ve gotta put my boots to some vampire ass!”

“And stay dead this time you red capped little freak! Hurin yelled at the undead fey as he unceremoniously booted him off the end of his axe then gave it an extra cleave through its cap and another hobnail boot stomp it its cloven head for good measure. Who the hell would reanimate red caps as undead; those buggers are bad enough when they are alive! Oh yeah a vampire that pulls the fingers offa little ones hands!

The sounds of battle coming from one of the ball rooms caused Hurin to grab his axe and rush over the dead wolfguardsmen towards the melee hacking and shield bashing his way through the hallways as he went.

The fighting was dying off now and the Vampires minions appeared to be in full retreat. Hurin had been so caught up in the slaughter that he hadn’t noticed that there were no other dwarfs left around him. He entered into a great room that had a obviously been the scene of an epic battle, Those are signs of sorcerer’s battle magic to be sure, hopefully on our side, Grimble said that there were other forces arriving separate of ours.

The entire keep was shaken to its core, the walls of the fortress crumbled away and a section fell away entirely revealing that the city was being attacked by a new army, one with dragons, and heavy siege weapons. As the floor began to crumble Hurin scrabbled over the uneven surface and through another doorway at the opposite end of the of the room and barreled right into the scaled nose of a dragon perched at the top of a landing in a chamber so large that Hurin had the impression that the magical beast had be able to land a top it after flying itself to this roost. Damn the bad luck! So this is how it ends, huh lady? “COME ON YOU OVER GROWN LIZARD YOU AREN’T GOING TO DIGEST THIS DWARF AT LEAST WITHUT A LITTLE INDIGESTION AND I AM FIXING TO TAKE A FEW OF YER HORNS WITH ME BEFORE I DIE! HAVE AT THEE!”

And dwarf and white dragon did battle at the top of the landing overlooking the grand entryway below. The axe bit into dragon’s flesh and claws tore at the dwarf trying to penetrate his armor and bypass his spiked magical shield. Frost and icicles clung to the roof and walls and ice clung to Hurin’s beard. The thrashing dragon pulverized marble handrails and rained rubble down atop the new combatants streaming in through the broken gates below. Hurin had battled valiantly and gave a good showing of himself, one worthy of a ballad for the dwarf battled like he had nothing to lose, but intended to sell himself dearly. Too bad in my greatest battle none shall be here to witness this and tell the living of my deed, though I feel the eyes of my ancestors upon me!

The dance went on for several minutes, but the dwarf had expended himself and was horribly outmatched. The bloodied dragon sensed its prey weakening and circled in for the kill. Hurin turned the dragon’s maw away with the shield bellowing with the effort as the sinews in his neck screamed at the same. He blocked the claws with the axe and scored another small nick on the dragon. The dragon’s wing buffet was blunted as Hurin raised his boot and kicked off the incoming blow, but the second one found its mark and the dragon’s tail knocked him off his feet and sent him sprawling across the floor in a heap until he came to rest painfully against a tapestried wall. Struggling to get to his feet Hurin could feel the blood rushing in his ears and the intake of the dragon as it inhaled to bring forth its cone of cold yet once more. Hurin’s shield arm was stunned and held useless under him. His right hand still had a death grip on the Axe of Thanes. ON your feet get on your feet! “ Low there do I see my father! Low there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers! Low there do I see a line of my people stretching back to the beginning! Low they do call to me to take my place among them to take my place among them in the Halls of Torag! Where the dead may live FOREVER!”

Hurin had managed to get himself into a half crouch to meet the expanding cone of icy death expanding in slow motion towards him. He brought his reflexively turned his head and began to raise the axe to shield his face, but it was moving too slow and would never cover it in time he thought to himself. His eyes caught every detail of his coming death and strangely he noticed the tapestry behind him was a scene of the City of Stormfare. Heh, I would sure rather be there right now!

Hurin’s stomach lurched as he was pulled off his feet and though the tapestry. Its some sort of dimensional passageway! A portal!

His stomach lurched yet again as he felt himself falling again, this time onto the streets of Stormfare.

Male Dwarf Fighter 7/Barbarian 2 AC29 HP128 F+14 W+6 R+6 Perception +14

Well I took the time to format the bolds and italics in word, but obviouly it doesnt post that way.I hope that you guys like it. And I wanted to write enough that the other players know a little about my character.

[Bold]Text[/bold] (except just B instead of Bold, or I for italics).

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

I enjoyed it :) but once your in-game it will be a wee bit smaller lol. Excellent post and bravo good sir. :)

As the others have said look at the How to format your text and click on the show button. Then when you type stuff out on word you can just start putting the [b ][/ b] [i][/ i] stuff in. It becomes a habit eventually. ;)

Male Dwarf Fighter 7/Barbarian 2 AC29 HP128 F+14 W+6 R+6 Perception +14

damn I just spent like an hour fixing the whole thing and it still didn't fix all of it. Oh well I will do it better in game for sure. I guess I have had my first instance of messageboard eaten post!

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

with the message board, you can't edit a post if it is more then an hour old or goes over the 1 hour mark while your editing it. I wish I knew who to email and say hey this should be bumped up to 24 hrs but just remember that after an hour the post will be as is and you'll have to make a new one if you wanted to re-word anything~

Male Dwarf Fighter 7/Barbarian 2 AC29 HP128 F+14 W+6 R+6 Perception +14
Min Bein'Meleth Rámalóce wrote:
with the message board, you can't edit a post if it is more then an hour old or goes over the 1 hour mark while your editing it. I wish I knew who to email and say hey this should be bumped up to 24 hrs but just remember that after an hour the post will be as is and you'll have to make a new one if you wanted to re-word anything~

Ahhh! Again I thank you Min, I reworded and editited it, and made it all pretty, I tried going back in the brouser too, but it didn't save there. Lesson learned.

DM Barcus are you going to post a background story too?

Male DraRid 9 - HP 66/66 AC 23, T 14, Flat 19 - F+7 R+10 W+6 Init +4; Senses: Superior Low-Light Vision (X4), Darkvision 60ft; Per +14

Anytime! You'll get the hang of it soon. :) Firefox is a good browser if you want to avoid the post monster eating your posts as it has some sort of save function. Or typing it up in Microsoft word and pasting it when your done works too. ;)

The monster has gotten me many Many times. :(

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