GM Knight's Giantslayer

Game Master Deevor


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GM Knight wrote:

Seara Glak

Rodrik smiles and slaps his stomach, "Ah, well porridge fixings would be the most appreciated, The Siege Stone produces as much as we can eat, and fine and filling as it is it does get a bit boring. You can add most anything to porridge, but the way we cook here in the Long House bland is an improvement. That said I can't let someone I don't know cook for the boys, no offence, but poisoning the guard is an old trick. So tell us a little about yourself, I take it you are interested in the work for tomorrow's ceremony, would you potentially be interested in joining the guard after?"

Kurst coughs and interjects, "A name and any background you would care to share would also be much appreciated. And I for one would relish the chance to have a decent cook around, just because porridge is free does not mean we must eat if for every meal - I am sure many of the men would be willing to chip in to get anything else."

Rodrik frowns, "But we'll never afford those ballistas if we... Well I suppose morale is important, and a none porridge meal would not go amiss..."

I look over at the bartender after my statement pulling off my pack and setting it down. I pull off my Bardiche putting it well within reach, my dark auburn hair is in a few tight strings holding it still but it moves as I walk. My armor and over coat are dirty but well oiled and the scar down my left cheek looks red and raw but no signs of being recent.

The name is Seara Glak, I trained in Last Wall with their city guard there. I always wanted to learn about the City of Man that has defied the Orc hordes again and again. I konw that poisoning the guard is an old trick and I for one would never go that way, no glory in killing someone that way.

I look over at my Bardiche, it is well used and has recently been sharpened and the grips have new leather on them.

Do you get many of the Orc tribes using siege weapons on the town? Or are Ballista just added protection? Do you have a contact in last wall that could get you some?


Dotting for interest.


GM Knight wrote:
Knowing Rodrik: [spoiler omitted]

Sorry, I'll read the handbook more carefully.

Dust smiles as Rodrik responds. The man is the perfect example of how much easier his life has been since he stumbled into Trunau. Rodrik's welcoming attitude visibly lightens Dust's face.

Dust's attention turns to Kurst as he speaks. The points he brings are valid and Dust straightens himself in his chair as Kurst finishes.

"I suppose to answer your questions, I need to share a bit of personal history. As you know, I came to Trunau at an early age. Before my arrival here, I lived in an orc village and was the sole survivor of an attack from a rival tribe. I know not how long I wandered in the wilderness, maybe a year or so." Dust shrugs, "At any rate, by the time I found this place, I had become fairly self-sufficient and proficient at defending myself without the aid of weapons. I have continued training myself, understanding that we live in a dangerous place. I suppose from a tactical standpoint, my particular skill set prevents me from ever being caught unprepared. I am always equipped with the tools I need to defend myself and my allies."

"As far as to how I would react to the guards-" The half-orc sighs heavily as his eyes drift away from Kurst to an empty wall, "I suppose I would continue doing what I have been. I understand that some may hate me for reasons beyond my control. Such is life. I will help no one if I hate them for their prejudice. I must assist when and where I can and hope that one day, I will be acknowledged for my actions rather than despised for my heritage."

Now, regarding my name." Dust reestablishes eye contact as he changes subjects, his voice regaining his usually happy, albeit slightly gruff, tone. "The name I was given in the orc tribe translates loosely as 'purposeless dirt'. In common, we would use the term 'dust devil'. When I came to Trunau, I decided that a new, less orcish, name was in order and Rises from the Dust, my full name, is what I settled upon. It symbolizes my new life here and how I have overcome my past."


A late arrival to the Longhouse, a dwarf woman with reddish-brown hair and, in the fashion of many dwarves, bearing arms and armor. Her ruddy face shows that she's been traveling for some time, with a few smudges of dirt and the signs of having been on the road for a while. She carries a warhammer and a shield as well, and both show the signs of some use. About her neck is a small holy symbol of somewhat obscure design.

Knowledge (religion) DC... let's say 12:
The holy symbol is to Magrim, the dwarven death god.

"Good day," she says in a gruff voice, then the pauses, clears her throat, and repeats "good day" with much less grit. "I've only just arrived; am I in time for the ceremonies?" She looks about as if she's just a bit new and perhaps still getting her bearings.


Dotting, I've got notes about my character in the alias page that you can read if you want, they're mostly just there because I wanted to write them down and figured more writing for you to view couldn't be a bad thing. I'll try to post in character later today.


Little Ben PBP wrote:
Did my submission go unnoticed? I was looking forward to a response!

Trying to go through and respond in order Ben, I'll ensure everyone gets a chance for at least a couple of solid RP posts :) And rest assured that earlier applications will not get any more consideration than later ones. I should be hitting yours shortly I believe.

Edit: Next in fact it seems :)


@Seara Glak the AP will be in third person, rather than first person as you are currently writing, not an issue here, but just want to check you would be okay with that style shift were you selected for the actual game?


Little Ben

Little Ben wrote:
Well, then. This is a great honor! You know that I enjoy attending the Hopeknife ceremony - very stirring - but I've never actually been invited to participate. Perhaps it is my size? Those who know me know that I am not as strong as I look, but it might seem unfair to put me on one side at first appearance. And the ceremony of the Chief's daughter! A double honor good sir.

Kurst raises a hand, "I am afraid we are not inviting you quite yet, we are trying to get to know possible applicants before we make a decision, just want to make that quite clear - although you are certianly welcome to attend the ceremony even if we do not select you for participation in the tug-o-war. That being said please continue."

Little Ben wrote:


Though I have been through town once and a while, it does not surprise me that you do not recognize me. The name is 'Little' Ben. The druids in charge of this region have me tramping about looking for trouble and asking questions. Occasionally they will send me out on simple diplomatic missions, but, quite honestly, for the most part I am considered of too little experience to be put into the thick of things. Because of my looks, the orcs don't give me too much trouble; heck, anyone can see that I'm too poor to be worth the trouble! Clubs they have aplenty and slings are not really their style, you know. And I look too much like a giant for them to want any of THAT kind of trouble if you know what I mean.

Orcs:
This will only be the case in the areas that are effectively no mans land and with very small groups of orcs. Nearer to settlements and in larger groups they would likely be delighted to take a giant blooded slave, and eager to do so. From what you have experienced it would be clear the orcs do not seem deferential to those of giant blood.

Rodrik nods, "Aye, welcome "Little" Ben, I think I have seen you about a time or two, you are hard to miss! I cannot claim to know much of druids, but my understand is that their allegiance lies more with nature than with man? Is that a fair thing to say? And though as I have said before this job is not contingent upon it, I would be interested to know if you have given any consideration to joining the guard here? I have heard druids can heal and fight, and a big man who can do that could be a heartening addition to Trunau's defences..."

Kurst coughs, frowning at his brother, "Forgive my brother he has a habit of getting ahead of himself. Joining the Guard is not relevant to the issue at hand, and not being interested in doing so will not detrimentally effect your chances."


Aggghhh the Unclean

Aggghhh the Unclean wrote:


Augier stoically endures their discomfort as he sips his ale. My name is Augier, sorry if I didn't say so before.A number of my magics are useful against groups. I can cause a number to fall asleep on their feet and blind with a wave of color and send them tumbling to their arses by coating their feet with grease. If I witness any magic used I can also make an attempt to identify what it is and offer suggestions to counter.

Rodrik glances across at Kurst, some distance away, who nods, "Interesting Augier, such magics do indeed seem like they would be of great use, and it is always good to know what the enemy spellcasters are planning. Now, I am sorry if this seems rude, but I believe in calling a spade a spade, you are possessed of a, well, let's say powerful smell that might give others at the festival some discomfort. If we did choose to employ you would you be willing to do something about it before the ceremony? I am certain the Ramblehouse has a bath tub, or perhaps if you prefer could pick up a nosegay at the market over on The Barterstones?"

Nosegay:
A little bundle of pleasant strong smelling herbs used to ward off foul stenches.


Brin of the Hearth

Brin of the Hearth wrote:

Brin pauses for a moment, taking in the two brothers, then he leans forward and slaps the table. Pointing at the Rodrik,"You care about your town, and that's admirable."

Brin shakes his head,"But the guard's life isn't one for me. I'm more of what you'd call...Brin looks up in the air for moment searching for his words. ...an armed historian for hire. I can certainly help Trunau against its enemies, so long as fires are warm and my pockets jingle."

Rodrik chuckles, and Kurst smiles thinly, Rodrik replies, "Well I can certainly understand a man not wanting to be tied down, and I will warrant that more happens in these hard lands that might be of historical note than in most. Maybe you will even find some inspiration at the festival."

Kurst nods, "We shall shout you once we have decided who to hire, but please know you are most welcome to attend the ceremony even if your participation is not required."

After the contest

As Brin finishes vomiting porridge, that still looks very much like porridge, he turns to see the hefty form of Gellam advancing upon him, beady eyes narrowed, handing Brin small bottle,

"Hah, no fun, ralfing, try finishing this once you get everything up. It will tire you out for a bit, but trust me you will feel the better for it. Let's get a drink at the ceremony tomorrow."

Sense Motive DC 10:
Gellam seems genuine.

Small Bottle:
This sweet and wholesome-tasting blue liquid creates a sense of warmth and comfort. Soothe syrup coats your stomach and makes it much more difficult for you to succumb to queasiness. For 1 hour after drinking soothe syrup you gain a +5 alchemical bonus on saving throws made to resist effects that would make you nauseated or sickened.


Augier sighs. Aye, I'll be taking a bath and using a Nosegay for certain.


GM Knight wrote:
@Seara Glak the AP will be in third person, rather than first person as you are currently writing, not an issue here, but just want to check you would be okay with that style shift were you selected for the actual game?

OK Seara will just have to double check before she post again.


GM Knight wrote:


Kurst raises a hand, "I am afraid we are not inviting you quite yet, we are trying to get to know possible applicants before we make a decision, just want to make that quite clear - although you are certianly welcome to attend the ceremony even if we do not select you for participation in the tug-o-war. That being said please continue."

Little Ben deflates a bit at that. "Of course. For such an important occasion you must choose wisely."

GM Knight wrote:

Rodrik nods, "Aye, welcome "Little" Ben, I think I have seen you about a time or two, you are hard to miss! I cannot claim to know much of druids, but my understand is that their allegiance lies more with nature than with man? Is that a fair thing to say? And though as I have said before this job is not contingent upon it, I would be interested to know if you have given any consideration to joining the guard here? I have heard druids can heal and fight, and a big man who can do that could be a heartening addition to Trunau's defences..."

Kurst coughs, frowning at his brother, "Forgive my brother he has a habit of getting ahead of himself. Joining the Guard is not relevant to the issue at hand, and not being interested in doing so will not detrimentally effect your chances."

No forgiveness necessary. I am quite familiar with the necessities that accompany living here. If I were you I would also be looking for reliable men to defend this place. But, as mentioned, I answer to the druidic order and they are unlikely to get involved unless there is some disturbance that endangers the balance of life. Though when push comes to shove I would much rather have one of your men at my back than an orc. Ben chuckles to himself at that. I still haven't 'grown' to the point where I welcome death as much as life. Part of the reason I have such admiration for your Hope Knife ceremony. The way you face death so squarely and embrace the necessity of it when called for. Many druids, myself included, could learn a lot from you.

At this Ben lapses into silence and politely listens to the stories of the other candidates.


Grok hardly notices the cold gazes of the guards, walking past them with his eyes down. Eyes up, you're welcome here. He looks up and surveys the room, nodding and smiling at the other people, although a close observer will notice that it does not reach his eyes. He is tall and thick after the manner of his people, muscles bulging under a heavy looking coat of treated animal skins. He has a longbow slung across his back over his pack, which has a score of arrows sticking out, and looks well used. Across his lower back is a short, broad, heavy looking sword with a strangely long handle.

Grok sticks to the walls at first, walking slowly and keeping his eyes on the rest of the room, looking for the source of the porridge. Just sit down, they're bringing it around. He hesitates, until Rodrik spots him, and calls him over, though he eyes the seat suspiciously at first, and takes slightly longer than a normal person might to sit down. After a few moments, a bowl of porridge is set on the table, and Grok thanks the server sincerely.

Grok waits until Rodrik is done talking, nodding occasionally and smiling that same smile that doesn't reach his eyes, before eating his porridge. He does not use the spoon, instead picking the bowl up with both hands and drinking from it like it's a cup. His right hand looks as though all four of his fingers are badly broken, the outer two bent too far outwards and the inner two broken and shifted forward at the first joint. He uses the hand awkwardly, palming the bowl, and seems to have difficulty closing his middle two fingers all the way. He takes a long first gulp, the porridge turning out to be thicker than he anticipated, before setting the bowl down, careful not to spill or waste any.

Grok's words are rather matter of fact, as though he's not quite sure what they mean, perhaps he's just not quite sure what they should mean, and he speaks with a slight accent, although he is quite understandable. Well, I've traveled far and experienced much in my life, and little of it has been good. Least, little good by your standards, I'm pretty glad to be here now, to have food and civil company. Grok looks around, then his eyes return to the floor for a moment, and he seems in thought.

I was born a slave to the orcs, odd that, since one of them was my father...I never knew which one...well I suppose that's all well and good, I'd probably die trying to kill him if I thought he was still alive, and I'm no use to anybody dead. Here he looks down briefly, then back up, this time with a real smile full on his face and bright in his eyes. And I am use to people alive. Your people, and those around you. He cracks his knuckles, his right hand one by one and his left all at once, then he puts his right hand flat on the table, his middle two fingers so bent that they are mostly in the air.

One of them did this to me, marked me as a slave, made it hard for me to use it for the finer things. But I can swing a sword just as easy as you use that spoon, they showed me how to do that. Not really sure why, I think maybe they might've just liked poking me with long sticks, but I did learn. And I showed myself how to use a bow, despite my hand. He chuckles slightly, to himself, and points to the bent fingers of his right hand. They didn't know that, least, didn't know it till they were coughing up blood. There were lots of them at first, lots of orcs in the camp, but they dwindled, and then they fought each other, and turned into little groups. My group had only twelve, and they ended up my prey. But not before the other prisoners and I escaped. We actually got here, we were right here, I could see the walls. Grok pauses, looks down, his knuckles turning white from the pressure he's putting on the table. I couldn't do it though, I had to go kill those twelve....pushdug-glob... Grok looks down at the floor again, his right hand finding the hilt of his sword, grasping it lightly.

Orcish:

Pushdug-glob=stinking filth

After a moment, he looks up again, smiles his empty smile, and shakes his head slightly. I'd bet the ones I brought back might've mentioned me, but I'd also guess they're out of town by now. That was over four years ago and they were never locals anyhow. Well...eventually I killed those orcs and made my way back. Met a widow and she came with me, we've lived down at the Ramblehouse a few days now, though there's only friendship between us.

He looks at Rodrik and Kurst, not sure how they will react. Then he says Well, that's my story. I can swing a sword and shoot a bow, and learned quite a bit about how to follow others around by the marks they leave in the ground. And I can survive off that too, off the ground, don't need supplies, never had any. I wonder if you meant to learn all of that, all that I just told you? Can't hurt, I suppose, it's clear I've been in too many fights for civilized folk, have too many scars on my chest, anyhow, so you'd know, best you know the truth. I suppose my time as a slave has made me used to a harder world, everyone here seems so...soft. You just give me your porridge...thank you, I have to thank you, because it's so much better than any other way I've been treated. Grok's words are increadibly sincere, and he looks to make sure that Rodrik and Kurst know he really does thank them. Then his eyes seem to glaze over, like he's remembering something, and for a moment he looks almost like he's about to cry.

But I don't understand it. I don't know why you'd just give things away like this, why you'd invite me here to feed me just because I might be useful...I only know one way to repay you. Only thing I'm good at is killing, and I'd love to kill some of those savages as did this to me Grok points at his hand and keep you all nice and soft. Like a blanket between people and the world, that's what you are, folk like you, with your Hopeknives, they prove that you're still nice and soft. And I'd like to keep you that way, it's so much better than being all crunchy and broken like me... Grok looks suddenly and totally aware of exactly what he's saying, his words become quick and slightly louder, and he straightens his spine, his head rising a full six inches. If I have to join the guard or wander into the woods on my own, I will. I will do what must be done to slay those evil and senseless beings of hate and rage. Whether you have me or no, I will stand outside these walls so that those inside can sleep easy at night, so that they don't have to watch their words and their food, so that they can know what it means to be safe and free. Grok looks almost breathless, but, somehow, more energetic than ever. He pauses for a moment. He leans back, looking somewhat content, as though he has been waiting to say what he's just said for a long time. He opens his mouth, perhaps to say more, then decides against it, and instead fills it with porridge, slurped straight from the bowl.

But you should know, I'm not great with orders. Whatever punishments your folk give out don't mean much to me, I'd rather disobey a law and suffer the consequences than do something bad. You should know this if you will have me.


Brin looks up at Gellam through his hair. Keeping one arm on his knee he reachs out and shakes the mans hand.

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7

"Thank you, good sir. I will put this to use as soon as my guts are able."
Brin takes the bottle and continues to breathe heavily, waiting for his stomach to stop churning.


So one question prior to formal submission. Planning on putting up a halfling monk, but want your ruling on something first. Original weapon proficiency for monks is somewhat limited, even restricting a lot of weapons introduced later that qualify for flurry of blows. Heck, it is even so unintuitive that the Monk's Spade requires taking a feat to be used by the class it is named for. While no official ruling ever seemed to come down from the higher ups on this discrepancy in errata, the Unchained monk has this as its weapon proficiency list: Monks are proficient with the club, crossbow (light or heavy), dagger, handaxe, javelin, kama, nunchaku, quarterstaff, sai, short sword, shortspear, shuriken, siangham, sling, spear, and any weapon with the monk special weapon quality.

Now for the record I am not wanting to submit an unchained variant of the monk (for the most part I prefer the original's pacing better) especially given I am going for the Underfoot Adept archetype. That said, would you be OK with me taking the weapon proficiency from it as a logical rewrite from the Core rulebook?


Knowledge (Local): 1d20 ⇒ 14
Tuva enters, feeling the guard's eyes on her, hating the fact they know she is a Half-Orc, even with all of her efforts to conceal it.
"Maybe I'll need to move away from Trunau, to a faraway place where no one knows that my mother had me with a filthy orc... Halgra of the Blackened Blades, how was my mother capable of it! Why couldn't she had me with a human!"
She moves with grace towards Rodrik and Kurst, having meet them a lot of times.
"Ruby's birthday, right? I would love to see my sisters face if I am in the guards team! And I promise..." - she winks mischievously, and continues in a low voice - "... to let her win, even if I won't make it easy for her and her friends!".
She looks at them with hopeful eyes.
"Please let me join the guards! I am tired of the blacksmithing work! I have made my weapons, and I am ready to use them defending the town! I know my mother thinks I am too young, but I am ready! Please?"
She is a Trunau native, as they are, so they would know everything there is about her - written in her profile - EXCEPT the fact she has a youthful crush on them both!
Hope you like it as much as I do, and thank you for the consideration.


The Emerald Duke

Yes I am fine with you using the Unchained Monk Proficiencies; though I would typically describe myself as a rules stickler, that seems an intuitive enough change/fix, given near tacit endorsement by Paizo through the Unchained Monk.


Overhearing some of the conversations going on after she arrives, Glenda pivots and addresses Rodrik. "It sounds like I'm in time for the ceremony. Is this the right place for me to look for a bed for the night?"

Then her round nose wrinkles slightly and she says, "... and what's that smell?"


Earlier in the day, as Captain Grath approaches Maurie for the first time:

The diminutive woman looks up at the human as he approaches. "Great, just what I needed today. The guard questioning my presence here. The further north I come from Molthune, the more and more wary guards are of non-human strangers. Abadar watch over me and this man."

"Yes, sir, how may a humble devotee of Abadar aid you this fine morning?"

Hearing the man's pitch, Maurie is a bit surprised. "Well, there is a shock. I wonder what job he would have that he would need four non-guards for? Furthermore, I wonder why he would ask a non-human non-resident for such assistance? Perhaps I should find out more about what this 'Hopewell' ceremony is before I apply."

Taking gather information DC 5, and then heading for the Longhouse.

Maurie almost walks under the notice of the guards outside the longhouse, but they look down just in time to open the door for her. "Thank you, may the Judge of the Gods smile kindly upon your watch."

Entering into the building, Maurie sits and politely listens to the brothers Grath as they spell out what the job is and why they seemed interested in her as a potential hireling to perform it.

"Interesting that you would ask me to assist in this ceremony. I understand from talking with the townsfolk that it is the marking of becoming a full member of this community, so I am am honored to be considered, of course. Given my size and stature I would think that many would assume that I would make a poor choice for a tug of war game. Still, I assure you that appearances are often deceptive." As if to illustrate her point, she touches the chains around her belt, finding the correct one, and then revealing it to be a small whip composed of nine-segmented metal bars. The halfling smiles at their reactions.

"Trust in the Judge of the Gods is all well and good, but sometimes the laws of society must be defended by more than just words. And in those moments, having more reach at your disposal than merely the length of your arms and legs is an asset when you are as small as I am." As she says this she hooks the dart looking end point through a section of chain further down the whip as she fastens it again like a small belt. Upon further examination the brothers now notice that most of these 'belts' are actually other chain based weapons, hooked in different locations to make for ready drawing.

"My name, good sirs, is Maurie Wyssal, humble monk of Abadar and barrister in his service. I have journeyed to these lands all the way from my monastery in Braganza, south of Lastwall and Nirmathas in far away Molthune. To be entirely truthful I had not originally planned on coming this far north, but tales of brave Trunau standing despite all orcish incursions are actually told in Vigil. I was visiting there on unrelated business, and hearing of this place I felt... called... to visit it and see for myself the strength of the Gold-Fisted one's resolve to keep order and civility in these lands."

Taking a bowl of porridge with thanks, the halfling takes a few spoonfuls before continuing. "I am, of course, willing to aid you in your trials tomorrow should you need my assistance. I promise, I know a thing or two about making those who discount me based on my size alone soon see the error of their ways. I am afraid I am unlikely to be here long enough to join your brave guardsmen permanently, as my order will eventually want me to rejoin them and share my journeys in the world with them. Until that time, however, you may count on me for any aid you require in defense of this brave town."

Sczarni

Glenda Dalduraz wrote:

Overhearing some of the conversations going on after she arrives, Glenda pivots and addresses Rodrik. "It sounds like I'm in time for the ceremony. Is this the right place for me to look for a bed for the night?"

Then her round nose wrinkles slightly and she says, "... and what's that smell?"

Kaddok levels a thumb towards the pungent dwarf on the nearby table.

"Seems yonder dwarf ain't too keen on baths and whatnot. Could be worse, I suppose," he speaks fairly quietly for a big man, looking over his mug.


Aggghhh the Unclean wrote:
Augier sighs. Aye, I'll be taking a bath and using a Nosegay for certain.

I found the delousing powder for you when you do take your bath good Dwarf. Not that you are infested with louse but it is a good precaution to take.

Seara picks up the jar of power, taking a deep breath prior to disturbing the powder on the floor.


Much obliged.


Dunreek Humanschild

"Ceremony is tomorrow, you cannot have an all day party without a whole day! And it is our job to make the selections Dun," Rodrik replies, both brothers eyeing Schaneg with furrowed brows, Kurst in particular going pale.

Dunreek Humanschild wrote:


No fear about my friend here, he won't spray you unless you scare him. I address Rodrick I have still yet to figure out how to get the graffiti off of the walls and stone, I will keep trying as you have asked me too.

Kurst rubs his temple, "That may be, but the responsibility if that happened would be yours. This is a guardhouse, and many guards, are loud, and prone to be boisterous. Rest assured that if there is a stench unleashed in my hall you will be paying the consequences long after you have finished scrubbing the place for the hundredth time..."

"No need for ifs and buts brother, I am sure it will not be a problem. Now let's see, first off I would like to ask why you are content with a put down as a name? There are a few answers that come to mind, but I would like to hear your reasoning, and how you came by it. As for the graffiti well I appreciate your efforts, but we can go back to worrying about it after the ceremony."

While his brother speaks Kurst appears to be trying to glare through the table at Schaneg, flinching occasionally.


Arrack

The guards look surprised at their sudden windfall, but quickly pocket the gold giving deferential nods to Arrack as he moves past them into the Longhouse.

Rodrik smiles warmly in return, while Kurst tuts very quietly an expression of mild irritation playing across his plain features. Rodrik returns the handshake and chuckles, "Ah, I am afraid we have neither the time nor crowd for that, my works tend to be lengthy affairs. Have a copy of my latest work though, sadly a bit too controversial for Trunau, I have plenty believe me," he says retrieving a slender book from the bench and passing it to Arrack. "You will hear the Ballad of the Bloodmarch tomorrow, I am proud to say it has become something of an anthem for Trunau. But to the matter at hand! We would pay you the coin, but of course you are free to donate it to the Sanctuary or where you will. A word of warning though Trunau folk have always been suspicious of folk that do not hold their coin close - we are a copper pinching lot I am afraid. Now you say you Trunau is your birth home, I'll own to being curious to hear more of than, but only of course if you are willing to share? And you say you are reluctant to accept an official position... I can understand that, there are inevitable restrictions. Anything to add Kurst?"

Rodrik's Latest Work:
The Other Side of Contempt
This six-stanza monody weaves the tale of a young half-orc whose orc mother died when human raiders overran the orc settlement in which he grew up.

Kurst glances up, "Hmmm, let us say hypothetically that someone were to pelt you with a rotten cabbage, or some such during tomorrows festivities - I am afraid many in Trunau have little love for half orcs. What would you do?"


Arrack takes the book with a nod.

Well, I look forward to hearing it! and what good is coin if not for a merry time and some good food? As for my ties here, let us say I left at a very, very, young age, and there is likely few if any that noticed it or that would remember me.

He then looks toward kurst and sighs slightly.

Even outside of this town my kind are treated, at best, with a caution and suspicion. That said I rarely find reasons to blame people for that, half of my blood comes from a wild beast who I believe has no knowledge of happiness and I pity them that, but only that. When I first meet people, they have nothing to judge me by save my appearance and heritage. That said, many, after I provide them with actions and character to judge come to trust me and see I am of little difference to them. Others sadly, cannot get past my heritage and but tolerate me at best, with them I can but continue to work to prove them wrong. That said, I'd be willing to sacrifice my life to protect those towns, or even just those that continue to distrust and scorn me. Why? Because even though they may hate me for whatever reason, that alone doesn't make them bad people. And people can change, they often do...

he glances down and gives a slight two nods before looking back to kurst.

You asked what I would do if someone pelted me with rotten food? Well, I'd take little heed to it, and if they hit me squarely, call it a good shot. I've long since learned the best reaction, is a positive one. Often catches them off guard.

after a brief pause, He makes a motion as if he just had an idea. You know, I think I'll donate my coin to the girl tomorrow. I bet she'd like that.


Glenda listens to Arrack's description of his philosophy and lifestyle, occasionally nodding along, though she's not properly part of his conversation.


Cromwin Ganson

Rodrik smiles, while Kurst makes an expression somewhere between smile and wince.

"Welcome Cromwin, we can certainly speak about finding a position for you on the Guard, having your own mount could be a big plus, as is having training in fighting as a unit. We will be looking to take in some new members shortly, which is pretty much always true to be honest - though of course I cannot make any promises. Funny though to hear little Ruby referred to as a women, twelve summers hardly seem sufficient, but those are the hypocritical ramblings of an old man and you have the right of it, hard though that is... Hmmm, let me see questions... Kurst?"

Kurst looks Cromwin up and down and shrugs, "This is unrelated to the matter at hand, but I am curious. In the event of a siege, or a prolonged period where orcs are close enough in numbers to prevent practical foraging do you think a horse could be sustained upon porridge? Honestly it is something I had not considered before, perhaps you could try to see if your mount will eat a few bowls? Do you know your father's plans for such an event? Siege, rather than a potential porridge eating horse I mean."


The halfling woman can't but smirk at Kurst's question to Cromwin. "Having tasted the porridge, it is possible... but only if his horse isn't very picky. Though to be fair, honest porridge like this has a grain element that the horse should be willing to eat raw. The real question is less pleasant though, and less tactful to ask: How many families will have to give up their food rations so that your horse can remain combat ready in a prolonged siege? And further, would you be willing to kill and slaughter it to see those same families fed a few nights longer?"

Maurie keeps her musings to herself, however, as she does not want to be rude during the man's interview.


Kaddock
He openly gawks at the porridge eating competition, cracking a smile at the rhyming jests.

"Seems you lot are fond of poetry and rhyming. I like it."

Rodrik chuckles, "Well I am no performer, only a writer, and young Brin seems capable of a great deal more spontaneity than I. Truth be told most in Trunau are less than discerning when it comes to cadence, meter, or even rhyme, but they know what they like and generally do not have time to consider layers of meaning or read between the lines."

Kurst barks a laugh, his expression sour, but more self mocking than angry, "Alas poor Rodrink, he would have been better born a Taldan fop, or Chelaxian dilettante. But fortuitously he was also born a fine warrior, you would think by rights I ought to have been gifted one of those talents by the gods."


Seara Glak

The name is Seara Glak, I trained in Last Wall with their city guard there. I always wanted to learn about the City of Man that has defied the Orc hordes again and again. I konw that poisoning the guard is an old trick and I for one would never go that way, no glory in killing someone that way.

I look over at my Bardiche, it is well used and has recently been sharpened and the grips have new leather on them.

Do you get many of the Orc tribes using siege weapons on the town? Or are Ballista just...

Rodrik waves a hand dismissively, "We are not accusing you Seara, but we do need to maintain our precautions - with the best will in the world we are unlikely to pick up on such a plan if they send someone with the talent for that sort of duplicity. Regulations are a pain in the posterior 999 times out of a thousand, but that other 1 time they are like to save the day so we stick to them - even at the cost of a night of good food. Oh getting equipment is not a problem, paying for it and transport is, but frugality is only a virtue in moderation - like most things. As for orc siege weapons, Kurst?"

Kurst straightens and leans forward, "Typically the orcs do not have the patience, or technical skills for their manufacture. There are few suitable trees in the vicinity so for them to bring siege weapons to bear on any real threat would likely require the rise of some great leader with the power to compel them to act against their natures. Of course that is the nightmare scenario any way. In truth Trunau is built more for slaughter than defence it is a..."

Rodrik elbows his brother, "Enough of that Kurst, not everyone shares that opinion and hopefully we won't need to test it in our lifetimes, or long after."


Dust

Any no need to worry, I have a lot of information that the Player's Handbook does not, some of which I am imparting throughout this recruitment. Plus while I am asking people to read it I do not expect anyone to have anything like a perfect knowledge of it :)

Rodrick nods, "Appreciate the story, so I am right to think you prefer Dust as a given name to Rise? I wish that it were different, but it is a hard thing to ask people to accept half orcs with everything the orcs have done to them and theirs. Fortunately there are many good half orcs here in Trunau working to change peoples opinion, many of whom have earned respected places here, I am sure you can do the same with time and patience."

Kurst sighs heavily, "A fair answer to a hard question, and one I am sure you will end up tackling all too often. I wish you luck with it, yours is as good an answer as any I can suggest."


I didn't think you were accusing me at all, just wondering about why such powerful defenses were needed. I had a bit of a look at your town on the way in and I would say it looks to be well defended. I can also understand regulations. Last Wall is build upon them and it will be what holds back the stem of Orcs not just the men and women who fight. As to your statement about technical skills I agree it just appeared to me that long range siege weapons could be used but again you are right about Orcs not having the patience for that.

Seara makes here way back to the back again to fill up her cup of water, she sits back down shortly there after.

So the guard is looking for more people I assume by the questions you are asking of all those who enter? What different jobs opportunities does the guard have?


Cromwin grows serious at the question, pausing for a long moment before answering. "Anvil will eat the Seigestone's porridge if need be. I know my family tries to keep a store of grain and vegetables such that if we're forced to retreat into the town, we'll have feed for our horses. That won't last though, not for a protracted siege, or if we don't have time to get it." Cromwin grimaces, making a face of disgust as he thinks about the tasteless magically created porridge. "It isn't very good for them in large quantities, but porridge is based on grain. In case of a protracted siege, Anvil and any of the horses we've trained will eat it to stay combat ready. We're eternally grateful for the siegestone; not only for the security that it provides us personally, but also...well, in a siege, eventually you have to slaughter the livestock once the food begins to run out. Putting down Anvil would be like cutting out my own heart, but war forces hard choices. The siegestone saves us from having to make that choice."

"Anvil could have a little bit as a demonstration. Give me a bowl, and we'll see." Cromwin whistles, a low tone that carries across the room and out the door. He grins over at Kurst. "Don't worry, Anvil and I have done a lot of work on moving around inside. He'll be careful." A few moments later, a large black stallion covered in hide armor walks through the door. He looks aorund, and on seeing Cromwin with his arm raised at the table, begins to pick his way across the room, carefully avoiding the soldiers, hooves clopping on the wooden floor.

"Everyone, this is Anvil." Cromwin strokes his horse's mane as he looks into his eye. "Alright boy, its time for some food. Won't be as tasty as the carrots, but trust me, its not so bad." Cromwin takes the bowl of porridge and offers it to Anvil, who gives him a dubious stare and a soft whicker of protest. Cromwin holds his eye, and Anvil acquieses, lowering his head and eating the bowl before licking it clean.


Glenda Dalduraz

Rodrik looks the dwarf over, before nodding and smiling a welcome as he gestures to the bench across the table from him, "Yes you have arrived with time, the festival does not kick of until tomorrow. Normally this is not the place for a new comer - it is a barracks not an Inn - but as it happens we are auditioning a few folks for some easy work, participating in a tug-o-war at the festivities. Its as much a way to get to know new folk and outsiders in case they end up participating in Trunau's defence as anything else. So if you are interested tell us about yourself, and if you care to share how you ended up in Trunau and any future plans all the better. Oh, and I am Patrol Captain Rodrik Graf, and the gloomy one besides me is my brother Patrol Captain Kurst Graf."

Kurst gives a half hearted wave, before returning to scowling in disapproval at a horse that seems to be licking the last specks of porridge from a wooden bowl.


Little Ben

Rodrik frowns, "Are there no orc druids then? Or would they be of a different order? Must you obey orders from higher ups in your order or is the organization less formal than that? Forgive me, but paranoia is a survival trait here, and I will own to being suspicious of the goals of an organization who's goals and motives I do not understand..."

Kurst shrugs, "I doubt such an organization has a rigid command structure Rodrik, you tend to think as a Guard or a Poet, and I suspect neither would apply here."


Grok the Wronged

Rodrik nods along as Grok speaks, while Kurst watches the half orc over steepled fingers. After a long pause Rodrik speaks, "It is a hard story Grok, but I am glad you are here. But I think you have it wrong, you think of our ways soft, but I say instead we are well treated, and honed. Think of a blade, which is surer? One that is oiled polished and sharpened, or one that is battered and rusted after constant clashes? There is a reason we have been able to stand strong against the orcs and that is because though on a one to one basis orcs are stronger, we fight and live together in a way that their brutality does not allow for. Would you fight better after being bruised and mistreated, going hungry, or healthy, trained, and well fed? Taking care of our community lends us strength, it does not diminish it..."

Kurst interjects, "Twelve orcs? Are you saying you killed twelve orcs alone, with a bow? If that is what you are saying I shall have to hear that tale, because at the moment it reeks - though apparently that is no longer a concern since the Great Hall is now a veritable menagerie..." He casts a dark look at Anvil, and beneath the table.


"Please forgive me if I'm in the wrong place, Captain," replies Glenda. "I was directed here while asking about the ceremony."

Brushing her holy symbol lightly, she says, "My name is Glenda Dalduraz. I've come from Janderhoff. I served as an acolyte in the temple of Magrim."

Though the mention of the death god is usually enough to make anyone dour, Glenda seems to be more upbeat and less grumpy than most dwarves. She continues, "I spent several years in the service there, but it was suggested to me that my talents could be put to good use in places where our kin need help - places like Trunau. You've become quite famous, you know, holding out while surrounded by orcs. I decided to take a pilgrimage here, learn more about the town and how it has continued to survive in the constant face of the threat of death - something well within Magrim's purview. A learning experience for me, a chance to help others and bring comfort and aid to them as well."


GM Knight wrote:

Little Ben

Rodrik frowns, "Are there no orc druids then? Or would they be of a different order? Must you obey orders from higher ups in your order or is the organization less formal than that? Forgive me, but paranoia is a survival trait here, and I will own to being suspicious of the goals of an organization who's goals and motives I do not understand..."

Kurst shrugs, "I doubt such an organization has a rigid command structure Rodrik, you tend to think as a Guard or a Poet, and I suspect neither would apply here."

Well, the druidic order is a strange thing. We all serve a common goal, the protection of the order of life and nature's cycle, but it seems, at least to me, the more powerful the druid becomes the more unworldly they become and the more at one with nature. Even to me, a druid, their ways seem strange. I've been told to move a pile of rocks from one creek to another with no explanation as to why. Well, that is not exactly right. The explanation was "to facilitate harmonious amphibious vibrations." When I asked what does that mean I got a fish eyed stare, as if to say "you call yourself a druid?" Beats me why they have me hoofing it all over the place but they seem to have singled me out for extra training or something. Again, I've learned that figuring their motives out is an exercise in futility. Perhaps when I've learned more I'll understand. But if a higher druid tells you to move rocks, you move rocks, even if you don't know why. THAT's something I'm sure you understand Rodrik, even if the chain of command resembles spaghetti more than what you are used to in the guard.

As for whether you should fear the druidic order, that really depends on what you do. I certainly don't see you as a threat to nature. I can't imagine them, us I guess, caring one lick about your enterprise here. I do, but perhaps that is why they keep picking me for these jobs. Most of the other druids are too busy to visit towns and farmsteads and see how things are going. I'm not even sure if they care, or if it is just for my benefit somehow. I'd LIKE to think it all serves a purpose.

Now if you were to burn down an entire forest or start making an undead hoard, then you might have some druidic visitors of the unpleasant kind.

As for orc druids, I've never met one but I suppose it is possible. Their nature seems a bit at odds with nurturing nature. Hey, that's catchy! Anyway, orcs seem brutish, self-centered, foolish, and unable to look at the big picture. I'm just not seeing it as a likely match. An orc is more likely to burn, raid and steal than protect, nurture and grow anything.


Indeed, your softness is your strength. I'm broken, not even as good a fighter as I could be, that's not really what I meant. Your community, Trunau, it protects all those inside of it, that's the softness of the community, like a shield, but... Grok searches for words for a moment, not sure what to say, before finally continuing. It's like a shield, but more than that, it's like the whole arm that holds the shield as well. And the people inside, they're soft as well, maybe like you mean, but not soft like weak, soft like...like cushioned. Grok seems satisfied with his explanation, nodding to himself, and drinking more porridge.

I did kill those 12, and I had my sword and armor as well as a bow...I found four of them isolated, then I looked for their camp and attacked with fire while they were sleeping. It actually took me a few days to kill them all, but as you say, that's a tale for another time. Grok becomes increasingly agitated as things get noisier and more chaotic, then calms himself by drinking more porridge, and following it with ale.


Just a quick check in tonight, emotionally exhausted after watching England, the spherical type football team, conspire to steal humiliation from the jaws of mediocrity - again - and watching the Game of Thrones season finale. I will endeavour to get everyone who has posted so far covered tomorrow, but tonight I am going to get exceedingly drunk :)


Good luck with that, I have yet to watch the Thrones finale, I am working 16hours today then will watch it with the Misses tomorrow eve.


Sounds like a plan, man. I stopped watching after season 3 myself, was getting a bit frustrated with the deviations from the books (which have only gotten worse from what I have been told) but I hope that it was enjoyable.


The Emerald Duke wrote:
Sounds like a plan, man. I stopped watching after season 3 myself, was getting a bit frustrated with the deviations from the books (which have only gotten worse from what I have been told) but I hope that it was enjoyable.

I love the books, and am one of those annoying people who read them before they were cool man ;) But, personally since they have started moving away from them a bit more in series 5 and 6, I have found things even more enthralling. I did have a bit of a problem with a certain swap out that seemed pointless in season 3, but loved the climactic events that followed, so if they were you I cannot whole heartedly say the newer seasons would be. Hard not to get evangelical with something I love that much so I will leave it there :)


Tuva Halgra

Rodrik smiles indulgently at Tuva, while Kurst gives her a nod and his customary painful smile. Rodrik speaks first, "Not our team we are recruiting for Tuva my dear, we are recruiting for Ruby's team. So I am afraid you would be facing off against team guard in all its middle aged, slightly paunchy glory. I would think your mother would know better than most that you are a woman, now long since, you have your Hopeknife and the right to decide for yourself. We can certainly talk about you joining the Guard after the ceremony, always plenty of opportunity..."

Kurst snorts, "I just hope you do not have some romantic image of life as a guard Tuva. There is a great deal more cleaning, polishing, and standing around waiting than there is excitement. And bear in mind that as a gi.. woman you are going to have to put up with men who are with the best will fairly crude. Would you see yourself staying here at the Long House? Or would you stay at home? Myself and Rodrik are here, but we both basically only sleep and eat here..."


Glenda Dalduraz

Kurst barks a sour laugh, "Your best bet would be The Ramblehouse, just ask anyone and they can point you to it. As for the smell, well take your pick..."


Tuva sits straight, trying her best to put a serious face, but the guard brothers can't avoid to see her for what she is. A girl, trying to make her way from below her mother's shadow.
"Of course I know the guard's life is not romantic! I know it is hard, and dangerous! I sure know it! I know only brave men like you..." - she blushes a little - "... and the other guards can handle it! But I am ready! I can be brave! Braver that most! Please, let me show you! And I am not afraid of the men... after all... well..." - she looks down - "I don't think... well, I am not the kind of girl that men, well, like. Not like my friend Ruperta. I am not like her."
She looks away, lost in her thoughts for a couple of seconds.
"But I think I can be a good guard for the town, if I only get the chance. What else could I be?"
She looks at them again, with a sad smile.
"About my sister's ceremony, if you put me on her team, you can count we will win the tug of war! You will see I am strong, and can be a good guard!"
She looks at them with pleading black eyes. They seem to find some orc part on those eyes, in the face of the young girl.


Maurie Wyssal

Rodrik regards Maurie and her weapons with raised eyebrows, "I must say though I have never met one, my impressions of lawyers were quite different! In truth I am not even sure we have a properly codified system of law here in Trunau, as we do not acknowledge ourselves part of Last Wall whatever they may believe. But it could well be time that we did knock up something formal, perhaps I will speak with Chief Defender Halgra about it and bend your ear if you are still here? As for size, well, it has little bearing on this, as I have said it is more about finding relaible poeple to step up for Ruby, and getting to know a little about those who we might find ourselves fighting beside should the worst happen and the orcs try another run at us."

Kurst regards Maurie thoughtfully his chin resting upon his pressed together thumbs, "I am curious, I think a barrister is a type of lawyer? Is that correct? It seems a curious juxtaposition to find someone decked out as a warrior with what I would have thought a bookish profession, is this typical in your faith? I confess I have seldom travelled anywhere civilized outside of Trunau..."


The gnome smiles a bit at both the brothers' confusion about her profession. "I can understand your confusion, gentlemen, and for the record most barristers - or lawyers as you called them - are considerably less prepared for martial combat than I am, and many are, in fact, beholden to the Judge of the Gods... well, the honest ones tend to be at least. To be fair, though, most do not venture far beyond the cities they are established in, so apart from the common criminal or occasional natural disaster they have little need to be so heavily armed." Maurie takes another bite of porridge and considers carefully how best to answer the question at the heart of their asked questions.

"My order is a martial order. We train every day from the day of our admittance into it until the day that illness, injury, or death prevent further practice. We do this to best keep our bodies and minds ready to enact and protect whatever portion of the law requires it any given day. Some days this can be as simple as defending a merchant's right to sell property, others it could be to defend a city itself from unlawful siege by barbarians, or to root out and eliminate a crime ring attempting to subvert the laws of the city."

Finishing the bowl, the gnome sets it aside. "Thank you for the meal, by the way. Anyway, while not all of my brothers and sisters study the law as I have, we are all required to adopt some additional profession or skill as another way to serve the order, the city, and Abadar. The concept behind this rule of our order is to ensure that we are not a drain on the good people of Braganza. It would not be just for us to expect to live on hand outs or the city's taxes, after all."

Taking a drink of water, Maurie continues, playing with the key around her neck as she does. "A fair amount of us do take up the study of the law, however, as it makes it easier to defend and implement it when you understand it. And furthermore, I have found that I am often in a better position to act as an arbitrator in minor disputes because of my understanding of the law and the reasons the law exists. Of course, the fact that the parties involved know that I can enforce said arbitration with my fists if they get unruly does help a bit." Maurie laughs a bit at that.

"Now, if you want me to help you set up a code of laws for the town I am sure that I can assist you. I would not impose such a thing, however, and I would want to spend more time here to better understand your unique values and problems first. Two thirds of well written laws are based on both of those things, the third third typically being based on commonly accepted natural principles. Now is not the place for this though, and I see that you do have others to talk to so I will leave it at that."

The gnome smiles deeply at both men. "Again, I do thank you for your consideration. To be a part in this type of ceremony, informal or not, is a great honor to bestow upon a stranger, so I do thank you for even thinking to ask me in the first place. I will understand if some of the others here get selected for the task instead. There seem to be some interesting folks in town today... I do have to ask, is that typical?"


Gather Information: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (10) + 0 = 10

Tanjah Hill Walker makes her way to the Longhouse at the appointed time. She’s curvy for a Shoanti woman. Her red hair is kept shoulder length. It’s not quite as short as the clans’ warriors, but it stays out of her way most of the time. Her rough clothes are neat and well cared for. She doesn’t look like the typical the witch the children run from. Sitting on her shoulder is a snowy white owl.

Tanjah strides past the guardsmen to walk into the room.

She nods in recognition to Kurst. ”Yes we’ve met. He’s needed a potion or two from time to time.” Tanjah takes a seat and sets Snow on the back of the chair. Waving for a drink and some food from the server, she leans back and begins to tell her story.

”I’m from what is left of a village in the mountains west of here. When I was twelve or so, about the same age as Ruby, the village was attacked by giants. When the morning came, there were just a few villagers left alive.” She nods in thanks to the server when the food and drink are set before her, she continues. ”There wasn’t anyone to take me back to the clan, so I stayed with the in the village for a few years. The village was dying, and I wanted to see the world. I left, and made my way here not long ago. I don’t spend a lot of time in towns. It gets old being called the evil Shoanti witch by the people I meet.”

She sits up straighter with pride. ”I’m not much of a front line fighter. I can make the fight harder for our enemies, and help our allies. I can also brew potions. I’ll get better in time.”

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