Wolf-Sark's page

"North it is, then. Blood will spill from all four corners of the world by the time we're through, I warrant!"

Traffic through all three entrances, or one more than others?

Wolf-Sark checks the ground for footprints or other marks of recent activity.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

"Hmmpf, as you say. Let us be off then"

"You don't say much, do you, orc? That's fine -- actions speak louder than words," Wolf-Sark comments with a wolfish grin.

Wolf-Sark pulls back his hood, revealing a face mottled with the marks of some horrifying disease. Unhealthy pale splotches disfigure his skin, and in the centre of his forehead the splotches form the shape of a strange rune.

"One moment, let me produce my own light so that our foes will have no shadow to hide in."

Cast Light on a javelin.

Wolf-Sark stalks off to his room and rests up for the expedition tomorrow.

"You are correct. I've been called here by the siren song of untold riches. Of course, that assumes I shall live long enough to reach them."

"An army is better than a single soldier," Wolf-Sark opines. "As far as I'm concerned, you're welcome to come along, as long as your bowels don't turn to water when trouble shows its face. And I have first claim on the sword 'Grace'..."

"Good, good. Then tomorrow we shall set out, and may the gods have mercy on any beast-men who stand in our paths!" Wolf-Sark raises his drink in a toast, hood still draped over his face.

"What news from the outside world?" she asks conversationally as she serves the gruff man his spirits.

"News?" The hooded figure gives a grim chuckle. "The bodies of many men and goblins lie rotting in the forest ten leagues north of here. The battle was glorious and I lived to tell the tale. Now isn't that a fine piece of news?"

Raising his voice, he adresses the other would-be delvers. "Men call me Wolf-Sark, and I too have my reasons to visit the ruined keep. Legends speak of a mighty sword that lies there, and I plan to claim it for my own. If you are men who would not flinch in the face of danger, then I am willing to join with you for a time..."

A mysterious figure stalks into the room, the hood of his tawny wolf-skin cloak pulled low over his face, thick gloves covering his hands. A well-used sword buckled to his belt marks him as a warrior of some stripe.

He finds a darkened corner and beckons the barmaid over. "...whisky..." he growls in a low voice from beneath the hood as he lays his money on the table.

At the very least, let us meet in a tavern or something. Is there some kind of plot hook you have in mind?

I'm back in the saddle, gents!

hogarth, I just had a look over Wolf-Sark. He looks really good overall. I did want to point out that I think his flat-footed AC should be 16. Or does he not retain his shield bonus? I've always thought so.

With the caveat that I am still learning about these new classes, of course, I'd say he looks good to go.

I'm pretty sure it's an error based on a previous revision. Thanks for the eagle eyes!

ya know I am now broke 1gp,8sp and 4cp to my name

Bows aren't cheap!

Still need to update my equipment now that I've got more money. I'll do it later.

FYI -- in PFRPG dwarves don't get any Perception bonus (although they used to in the Beta version).

Just curious -- how many levels of the dungeon has Monte detailed so far? Is there a projected completion date where he'll say: "O.K., I'm done now"?

I've mostly figured out my Oracle of Battle -- Wolf-Sark.

O.K., it looks like my cleric is a little less wise than I first thought, but at least he's a little more sturdy!