Dravos Stonebrow's page

I started to post, then realized Fh is in my way. I'll delay until after Aelwyn. Kriv's turn.

EDIT: From your current position, Thunderwave will push the bugger South, not East. Sorry Dravos.

SE or S are okay w/ me SW is not - I can't get there.

Consider him marked, as well.

Spitting curses, Dravos darts to the side and swings at one of the hobgoblins.

Shift to F7 and attack E7. CA included.

Attack vs. AC (1d20+8=18, 1d10+5=8)

With a satisfied grumble, Dravos looks up from the corpses of the slain hobgoblins in time to see the back door kicked in and another troop of the curs storm into the tavern. With a practiced flick of his toe, he flips his warhammer into his free hand and rushes to the attack.

"MORADIN!!!"

Attack vs. AC (1d20+7=22, 1d10+4=10)

Minor action to pick up the hammer, move action to E11, then charge to E8. Attacking E7. Hit AC 22, 11 damage (should be 1d10+5).

We appear to be out of hobgoblins.

Dravos looks around cautiously before picking up his warhammer and retrieving his throwing hammer. Then he turns his attention to the commoners.

Are any patrons in need of medical attention or are they dead?

Heal check - if relevant (1d20+7=8)

So my last four d20 rolls have been 5 19 6 and 1. Gaa! (At least you know I'm not cheating.)

If any were still showing signs of life, the dwarf's bedside manner quickly finishes them off.

Since the game won't continue, may as well meta a bit so. Kriv's action notwithstanding, Ceelie can attack the hob in D14 by moving to D8 and charging to D13. She would get a +1 to the attack. Additionally, since Dravos marked that hob, if he counterattacks Ceelie, he gets a -2 to his attack. If he moves to attack Dravos, he puts himself in a position where we can flank him next round.

It might be good to concentrate on D14 since we are out of position and risk the softies (Ben and Kriv) getting based if we spread out too much. If D14 survives, next round I will use Tide of Iron to push him towards the center and try to base a second hob. Otherwise, I will move to the next hob and try to knock him down.

Alewyn is closest to D14, so she can use hunter's quarry on it. That is probably best because moving to be closer to either of the others leaves her vulnerable to counterattack from two hobs.

If Ben or Kriv have the ability to put a condition like dazed or slowed on either of the other hobs, that would be great at this juncture because it will prevent them from getting behind the melee types. Otherwise, concentrate fire on D14 and let's bring him down.

A mixture between a growl and a shout escapes Dravos' lips as he shrugs Hess to the floor and sprints out from behind the bar. Shoving Earod to the side, he barrels past the barkeep and unhooks his throwing hammer from his belt.

With a shout of, "Here's dwarf in yer craw, Hob!", he makes an off-balance throw that sails wide of the nearest hobgoblin and skids to a stop near his recently-vacated seat at the table. He hefts his shield and prepares to fight.

If I can grab my shield from B14, I move 5 squares to B14. If I must move farther, I take a run action to do so. Grabbing the hammer off the belt is a minor action. Throwing it is a standard action. Picking up my shield is a minor action, so I'll use an action point to do it.

Attack vs. AC (1d20+6=12, 1d6+5=6)

No doubt a miss. But it marks the hobgoblin (D14) just the same.

Init (1d20=19)

Does R(E) represent Earod on the map? Does he have my weapons, or do I need to go get them? Also, what kind of cover does the bar provide (considering that I'm 4.5 feet tall, I doubt I can see over it).

Depending on whether or not I'm armed, I can try to switch places with Earod and attack the hob at C13. Alternately, I can end run around and charge the same guy, but that leaves me vulnerable to all four. If I'm not armed, I'll have to take the OA just to get to my weapons or attempt to fight with a throwing hammer.

As the restorative formula settles on the limp body, Dravos staggers back, his arm raised defensively in front of his face. He breathes heavily once ... twice ... three times before deciding it is safe and lowering his arm.

He shoots Kriv a sideways glance as he makes ready to lift Hess. "I'll have none a your magic dust getting in my eyes, Your Grace, especially not now."

Heaving the lad over his stout shoulder and half-dragging him behind the bar, casually knocking aside empty casks and untended glassware in the process. He continues somewhat louder, "Blood has been spilled this night."

Then aside to Earod: "Goodman, fetch me my hammer and shield."

"By all the Forge-Fires of the Deep! Blood has been spilled and it demands recompense!"

A man stumbles in, down the hall, and collapses in a heap on the floor. Though his face is bloody and his apron slashed and tattered, you recognize him. It is Hess, the alchemist’s apprentice.

"Eh?" Dravos grumbles, looking to the others. Then, dropping his hammer with a loud CLUNK, he lumbers to the youth's side and none-too-gently rolls him over to tend his wounds.

Heal (1d20+7=12)

"I never was much good with ones so frail..." he mutters under his beard.

"Why not? Troyas coin spends as well as anybody else's. And I have heard some disturbing rumors lately. OK. If Troyas is footing the bill, I'm in. Somebody needs to find out what's going on. And those ham-handed businessmen who are trying to run the place sure aren't going to get it done."

Dravos grumbles in response to Ben's reply and takes a renewed interest in the remains of his stew. Dredging a piece of torn bread through the gravy, he barely has it in his mouth when the serving girl sweeps away what is left of his portion and replaces it with a brimming tankard of ale.

"Hey! What? Oh nevermind," he mutters to her retreating back. Eyeing the drink suspiciously, he ventures to slide it aside with the tip of his finger. Then he studiouly ignores it as the others focus their attention on the distracting presence of the bald half-elf woman at the bar.

He turns slightly in his chair as Ceelie excuses herself. Almost without thought or effort, his free hand comes to rest on the haft of his hammer. "More mercenaries, eh?"

Snide remarks

"I'll vouch for him," Ceelie offers with a grin, "Besides, we can't all drink ale with as much ease as a dwarf, can we? And if he doesn't pan out, well...he'll be my responsibility, I guess."

Dravos grunts a muffled "Indeed" around a large bite of tender elk and watches closely as Ceelie approaches the strange card-players.

When she returns with Ben, he looks squarely past the Wizard as he introduces himself, "Stonebrow of BlackIron, Servant of He who Forged the World by the Might of His Hands."

"Or rather, Brindol does," Ceelie adds, "But we've got an angle on it that might drum us up a business opportunity."

"Yes, though the matter begs some discretion if we are to keep this 'opportunity' amongst ourselves," Dravos says between bites. "Tell us, wizard, can you keep your own counsel?"

"So who's to say we couldn't look into these Red Hand rumors?" she decides to change tactics, "If Troyas really wants proof so he can raise the militia and protect Brindol, maybe he'd be willing to finance a little scouting party? Me, you, your friends here...and maybe we could convince Ben over there if we make it worth his while. Like I said, he's a wizard-for-hire. And if there are goblins on the march again, it'd be nice to have someone that can burn the lot of 'em while we pick off the stragglers. At the very least, our efforts might get the caravans rolling again..."

"Hmmmmph!" Dravos squints and scratches his beard as he eyes the wizard as critically as he would a piece of merchandise.

"I'll consider him, but he had better be showing more control of his spells than he has o'er his ale! No place'll be safe ere long if the Hand is on the march. Goblins make for far more danger than a parlor, ye ken?"

After considering the matter for a moment more, Dravos turns to squarely face Ceelie. "Very well. Where can we find this Troyas?" Then, more inclusively to the rest of the table: "An have ye others any desire to join up?"

"Suit yourself," Ceelie shrugs. "I'm indifferent to your indifference," she adds with a grin, then elbows Dravos, "So what are you on about these days? Keeping busy?"

"No, By the Hammer, I am not busy," Dravos grumbles with a barely disguised hint of irritation. "I was to head north the day before yesterday with a caravan bound for Red Rock and across the Giant's Shield. However, the wagon master was ill prepared and had to beg off for a day. I have since heard he has disbanded the caravan altogether and fled south with his hirelings abandoning his cargo. Afraid of the Red Hand, no doubt."

The dwarf sighs before taking another bite of stew and continuing in a hushed voice. "There is another job, down the Dawn's Way to Drellin's, but it won't leave for a fortnight - if it leaves at all. The pay is meager, but at least it will keep the ale flowing."

"So by what means did you make the acquaintance of a full-blooded elf and a dragonborn?" she asks and then nods at Kriv, "Assuredly this one attracts a bit of attention. White scales and blue eyes? Can't say as I've seen one of your heritage among the dragon-folk before."

"My first business here was to look into some supplies. I met them both at the market. Despite his demeanor, the dragonborn knows his tools. At least for a non-Dwarf."

"Her," Dravos gestures at Aelwyn, "I think she's looking for someone. Asked if she could go north with me. Being as the mountains are no place for an elf, I agreed."

Hopefully not too presumptuous. Seemed a good thing for a scout to ask, even if she has no intention of actually going.

"So, have you folks heard the rumors? All the trouble that's going on...?" she mumbles around a mouthful of food.

"I came here chasing rumors of trouble. It sounds like I found it. Or it found me. They say the Hand marches in the north and Red Rock is already cut off. Be this true, 'tis sorrowful news indeed." He rests his hand on the haft of his hammer, moving it in a circular pattern as he slowly sips again from the tin cup and returns his attention to the food.

"I should seek news of the Clanhold. Does anyone know that fellow there? Where his loyalties lie?" He gestures towards the card-playing dwarf.

Probably a cue for Steetwise; I have a passive 10.

"Let us hope that I am merely chasing stories and phantoms. But the shadow of Azarr Kul may yet be cast again."

Dravos fixes the others with his steel gray eyes; his voice begins a low grumble, but works up to a half-shout, "Indeed. In the careless days of my youth as my kin fled before the slaughter of the Red Hand, I swore upon the Hammer and Forge that if the goblins dared again to crawl from their latrine-holes and blight the surface lands with their stench, I would send every last one of them to a bloody ruin."

With that, he slams his tin cup into the table and glances sheepishly about at the other patrons before studying the drops of spilled water as they pool on the table top. "Little did I think I would live to see the day," he concludes in a beard-muffled mutter.

A young woman, in a bodice that surely must have been designed to reveal her ample bosom, places a trencher of old bread filled with a colorful stew of meat, root vegatables, and spices in front of Dravos. She puts spoon and eating knife next to it.

"Ah, food," Dravos brightens and the flush returns to his cheeks. Contemplating the utensils, he settles on the knife and spears a large chunk of meat. "Not bad, considering. You two should have some. No discussion is worth having on an empty stomach - Ancient Dwarf Saying."

After respectfully allowing the others to order food...

"I have heard a former comrade of mine is in this town. I hoped this would be the kind of place to find her. She is half-elven," he glances at Aelwyn, "and known to consort with a rough crowd."

Leaving an opening for Celia here, if you want it.

"...the latest news is that the goblins and their allies have cut Red Rock off from the rest of the Vale. There's going to be an emergency Council meeting tonight."

Dravos' eyes narrow into slits and his expression grows hard at this news. However, he holds his tongue.

"What you probably don't know -- and most of the rest of the town doesn't know yet -- is that the monsters seem to be organized. Once again, they are marching under the banner of the Red Hand."

"The Red Hand." Dravos' hand instinctively moves towards his hammer at the mention of the goblinoid scourge from years past. Then, realizing there is no immediate danger, he brings it to rest on his lap before casually moving it to his coin purse and then back up to the table. "It has been too few years since the last time they marched through this valley."

If there is call for a militia, this could be just the opportunity I am looking for, Dravos thinks, momentarily considering how he would look marching at the head of a column of soldiers to liberate Red Rock from the goblins.

Assuming as a local, I know something about the last Red Hand incident - or, apparently, I had my head in the sand. History (1d20=6)

I had been in the middle of another drink of ale when that hit me, I choked, coughed, and managed to decorate the table with only half of my mouthful.

Dravos chuckles inwardly as the leather-clad human fails to hold down his grog.

"That one - I doubt he is from around here. But by the looks of the other two, they could be locals." he says in a low voice using his eyes to indicate the party he is referring to.

"Ah, what I wouldn't do for a draught just now." He looks bemusedly at the pitcher of water on the table as if it is a peculiar foreign dish. Pouring some in a tin cup from his mess kit, he swirls it around and sniffs before taking a small sip. The water is fresh, clean, and cool.

"Bah, this stuff is not for Dwarves!" he grumbles as he sips again.

"Have you any news of the town?"

We are in Brindol, right?

The action will start in the town of Brindol which lies in the center of the Vale in the agricultural heartland. I always find it difficult to start a character in the place that will serve as "home base," but it is the largest community in the vale proper and second largest in the region, so feel free to do so.

Dravos looks up as the dragonborn and elf step across the threshold.

"Over here," he says under his breath as he pushes a chair away from the table with his foot.

"I picked up my gear this morning," looking at the overstuffed backpack under the table, "Now we just need to figure out what next. Were either of you able to find out more about this 'goblin problem'?"

Taking some liberties as I don't know much about your backgrounds. But assuming you are also interested in the town's reported goblin issues.

I'll save ya a spot at the table, then - though I don't have an egg handy for ya to sit on. Maybe ya can borrow one from the cook. :)

Dravos grunts in acknowledgment to the barkeeper and moves to a table on the far side of the room from the card-players. He settles his hammer and shield on the floor, leaning them against the wall and spares a quick glance over his shoulder as he removes his pack. Not many stout-folk around here, I reckon. Best not to be recognized so close to home. Still, he cannot resist trying to get a glimpse of the other dwarf - if only to assure himself that he has not stumbled upon a brother-in-law or second cousin.

His gear finally arranged to his liking, he settles into a chair, back to the wall, and pulls his helm low over his eyes. When the barmaid arrives to take his order, he nods his head stiffly and cups a pair of silver coins, which he soundlessly slides across the table towards her.

"I'll have the stew - and could ya bring some water for my flask?" he asks in a low, unhurried voice while patting the nearly empty flask hanging from his shoulder as if he needs to prove to her that it really is empty.

Just saw the map. Assuming card-players are in the upper right, I will go for the chair near B-15. Not all the way in the corner, but back to the wall.

Perception check vs. the other dwarf. Bluff check to do it discreetly. (1d20+2=19, 1d20=8)

I have tweaked with my abilities somewhat and am ready to go. One note, Dravos is going to present himself as a Cleric. I'd appreciate if others would play along unless they have a really really good reason to know otherwise (like they infiltrated the Academy record vault and looked at his transcript).

I'm ready to bust up some a them runty lizard freaks (kobolds) as soon as the rest of ya! Come ta play with the dwarf are ya - well, I got your shift right here, scale face!

No screw that. Artificer. :D

Really want to use those rules.

Just don't be gettin' none a your fairy dust on me. I've got sensitive sinuses.