Envigorated, Aakon tests the limits of his newfound powers. Caught in the rhythm of his own performance, he fires two arrows in rapid succesion at any still standing Babau.
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Åkon fires a single, devastating arrow at the Babau closest to him and Arcessentes. His rosewood bow singing with him,
Åkon takes a level of Skald, becoming a fated champion 4/archmage 1 Ability Score Increase: +1 Con
Special:
New spells known (2nd level):
Skills ranks:
I plan to rework Åkon's "sheet" a bit, as I'm not quite at home with the current format.
The walls quake as Åkon's suddenly ear-drum shatteringly loud voice slams against them: His rosewood bow radiates a strange rosy glow as he nocks an arrow,
At Bastion's words, Åkon turns pale. "Was that what happened...? I thought it some miracle you unleashed upon the demonic hordes.
Tears streaking down his cheeks, Åkon whispers, almost sighs, in an awestruck voice: "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed." With a jump, as if awakening from a dream, he looks to each of you in turn, a fiery respect burning in his still teary eyes, and exclaims: "By my words, by Shelyn, that scene! You are heroes, glorious heroes!" A ball of joyful rapture, he bounces around the room, taking in you in all your glory. He suddenly stops. He looks at his own, still glowing hands, brow raised as he inspects them in visible confusion "Well" he starts "Whatever it was you did seem to somehow have affected me as well. I feel... Strange. Not bad strange, but strange nonetheless." He looks to Arcessentes, waiting for an explanation.
Åkon turns towards Paritosh as the latter spoke, and responds graciously: "Please excuse my ignorance, master Paritosh, I am not native to these lands. However, now that I think about it, I believe I might have heard of these so called "Ward stones" before." He pauses expectantly, waiting for the show to start or for further explanation. Åkon simply observes the scene which plays out between Lirrathan and Bastion, and follows the group into the room.
Åkon looks confused at your exchange, but ventures: "What is this "Wardstone" of which you speak?" He looks at each of the members of the group in turn as he speaks "I wasn't originally sent here to aid you, merely to check in on you. Thus I was not briefed on the details of your task."
Åkon moves to a more advantageous position on the other side of Arcessentes, holding his arrow on his bowstring as he waits for a more opportune moment to loose.
Surprise Round
Upon hearing the sound above, Åkon gets visibly tense. A thin sheet of perspiration glazes his brow as he whispers to no one in particular: "That sounded big, any guesses?" Bow at the ready, Åkon stays close to Sir Bastion and adds: "We should probably find the stairs up."
Upon hearing Lirrathan's plight, Åkon attempts to replace his frustration with anticipation as he pleasantly says: "Have faith my sword-eared friend, I'm certain your boredom will be quelled, for we have yet to find the source of the sound eh?". He looks the room over, realizing what it might once have been, and decides to search the room. Afterall, who knows what such a room might hold? He enters the room, holding his breath against the stench of decaying flesh, and starts looking.
"This certainly is not the work of an explosion." Åkon thinks to himself, as he peeks over Sir Bastion's shoulders into the room. He followed Lirrathan, Paritosh and Sir Bastion, but stayed at a distance where his bow would not be a hindrance. Following the path of Lirrathan's sword, Åkon nods his agreement to the sentiment and follows through the room, eyes peeled like a hawk for potential danger in this gory room.
"Right, I'll be quick about it. And you're welcome." Åkon hurries out the room, towards where the horses are tethered. He rummages through Gyda's saddlebags for a moment, and suddenly exclaims: "Aha! There you are, aren't ya!" before pulling out what looks like a brilliantly white and pristine femur. As he joins you again, he stuffs it into his quiver. "All set, lead on!"
"It would be my pleasure!"
Åkon looks thoughtful for a moment, before he adds: "I believe I stored a wand in Gyda's saddlebags - I will fetch it when we have a moment."
Åkon snaps to attention at the sound of the explosion "I thought you had already cleared the area?" As he draws his bow, he notices Sir Bastion healing himself and asks: "If you are still suffering from your wounds, I have more healing to offer if you wish? Otherwise, lead on."
Åkon smiles as he takes Arcessentes' hand "So it does, and so they are indeed." he gives a respectful nod before releasing the shake, and advancing on the extended hand of Sir Bastion, "Greetings Bastion, sir." He begins in a mildly theatrical voice "I am Åkon of Grungir Forest, honorer of the names of my family, and of Shelyn's; in her mercy and by her grace, a collector and teller of fantastical - and at times historically correct - tales." As he grasps the hand of Sir Bastion, there is a slight glint of humor in his eyes, as he respectfully presents himself. With the greetings out of the way, Åkon presents his purpose: "I've come here at the request of Irabeth Tirebade." Åkon looks purposefully around at the party before he continues, "And while I was not tasked with assisting you, I would like to offer my help freely, if you would have it." He finishes with a mild flourish, accentuating that his aid is indeed freely given.
A grin begins to warm Åkons face as you speak, and his manner is jovial when he responds: While I might have to kill demons to fulfil my purpose here, it was not explicitly part of my assignment. His grin falters a bit, but his manner remains as he goes on "Glad to meet you, but I guess explanations and proper introductions can wait until after I take care of your friend here eh?" At those words he strides toward the unconscious man on the floor and the dog standing guard. "Oh I'm happy to meet you too!" Åkon says merrily as he approaches Jokum "You mind standing aside for a moment while I fix up your friend? There's a good boy!
It's not the crest of a noble family, or if it is, it's not worth knowing about anyway.
The silent creak of the front door preceded Åkon's cautious reply: "I'm on your side, but I was not sent here to kill, nor to get killed." he said slowly "I'm coming in". He sounded sincere. In enters a surprisingly tall and slender young man, especially considering his deep voice, with braided, shoulder-length, golden blonde hair, green eyes, and fair skin. He wears a dark forest green belted plaid over a chain shirt, and a pair of simple sandals. His leather belt is slim and embroidered with an intricate swirling pattern, while the larger belt buckle of burnished bronze is emblazoned with a crest you've never seen before: A swan with a 2-legged serpent in its beak. From the belt hangs a simple axe with a deadly edge, a wooden shield painted with his crest in colors; the swan in white with an orange beak and the serpent in black with green blood, and a beautiful quiver with Shelyn's holy symbol etched masterfully into its' leather. As he enters, with his hands in front of him, he eyes your fallen companion. He says nothing, letting you appraise him in silence, as he in turn evaluates you and your situation.
A small silence follows your words, as even the horses seem to notice and react to the tension. ""Carrion latecomer", now there's a clever insult..." The voice says with unmistakable indignancy and sarcasm. The voice gives a small cough and takes a more friendly and formal tone as it finishes cryptically: "My name is Åkon, and I've no hostile intent. I'm here on behalf of a request made of me by one you may know. May I enter?".
As you discuss your current predicament, you hear the faint sound of hoofbeat outside. The sound comes to a halt a moment after you notice it, and a deep voice, muffled by the walls, exclaims: "Now that is a magnificent horse, that is!". The voice gives a short Umpf, and you hear the sound of feet on the ground. "Guess the lads are here already, eh Gyda? And by the looks of those bodies they are doing fine. You stay put now, there's a good lass, I'll go have a look inside."
Aakon reporting in, ready to spin a tale most epic. On my Inspired Rage: It does not have to be a literal rage. Exhilaration, enthusiasm, excitement, passion and recklessness could be alternatives to actual rage, provoking a physical effect resembling that of a frenzied rage. Of course in a way, they are all somewhat connected; but my inspired rage could be focused on provoking specific emotions in their audience :) Think Charles Xavier's advice to Magneto: "The feeling between anger and serenity". I'll redo my character slightly for tomorrow as a ranged character. |