Aelden Cormallen's page

That's fine, was just wanting something to happen. Erevan is better suited than I am.

Aelden's gonna grab it and run

But you cant spring up arbitrary, system wide houserules out of nowhere without rules to back it up!

First off: house rules are just that: house rules! And they are not necessarily subject to the what the rulebook says. If they were, they wouldn't be house rules.

Second: It sounds like DM D is making that call for this situation right now. It meets our needs, so go with it!

Third: You all chose to go into an esoteric magic system that (I'm pretty sure) was explained as 'something we'd learn as we go'.

Fourth: What's the issue? We are first level for goodness sake! Just grab the helmet and let's move on! :)

EDIT: If our casty-types don't do something soon, Aelden will.

To me, it sounds like for our purpose the Close range doesn't matter. All we want is for Lythirra to 'reach' out and grab it with her spell, and bring it to her while we distract everyone. The helm will sprout wings (or whatever) and then go Close-Reach-Touch; when we grab it and run.

Seeing Bryn's commotion, Aelden grins.

'...good one...'

He draws his sword and waves it above his head while rushing toward the crowd...and more importantly toward the table with the helmet. "Look out! Look out!" He calls out at the top of his lungs, trying to further draw attention away from the others.

From his vantage point, Aelden could see Cimri and 'Shady' discussing...something. The look on Cimri's face and the furtive glances toward the knights and the helmet told him all he needed to know.

'...you must be joking...'

'...bloody hell....' Aelden hated when he was right. He really did. As much as he liked to rub it in when he could, when he WAS right, it was never a good thing. This wasn't just a speech, this was a call to arms. Whatever in the nine hells that helmet was, it spurred the Iomedaeans to a right-proper fervor.

And he knew what that meant.

Aelden moved back out away from the crowd to place the bulk of the people in front of him. He didn't want some peasant braining him in the back of the head with a club just because he was wearing this damn sash. He loosened his sword in it's sheath, and kept an open eye on the Fifth Sword Knight.

Aelden continues to stare at the Sheriff for a long, uncomfortable moment before turning away to watch Cimri walk off.

He shrugged. '...nuthin' in the job description says I have ta follow that brat...'

Uhhh...remember 'unrest is unwanted'. why instigate the sheriff?

Aelden stands near Cimri, absent-mindedly chewing on a stick of jerked beef he'd bought last night. It was a soldier's favorite, and he hadn't had some in quite a while. He was thoroughly enjoying it. It didn't hurt that Cimri's aunt was easy on the eyes either.

Still, the Iomedaens made him uneasy. He had his reasons, but he tried to put them aside by eyeballing the Sheriff.

"No worries, luv." Aelden says over his shoulder as he looks for something to eat. "Least...not 'til tomorrow at any rate."

Aelden takes a sash and sighs. '...doesn't anyone listen at all???...'

"We don' have ta crack skulls. I just said we might have to if'n the natives get restless. 'Remind 'em of their allegiance' he said. 'no riot', he said. Now I know some of those boys that will be there. Former mates of mine. They take all that nonsense seriously, and when this Fifth Sword Allamar gets 'em riled up, they'll be looking for someone ta take out their frustrations. And who will be standin' there carryin' a big sign sayin' WE ARE CHELIAX? That'd be us."

He tucks the sash away in his backpack - they wouldn't need it until tomorrow anyway according to their boss - and looks around. "All I'm sayin' is: keep yer eyes an' ears open. Mr. Mystery over there wouldn't be payin' double just fer us ta play babysitter at a church rally."

"Hrmmph." Aelden grunts, more at Drathis comment than anything.

'...doesn't listen a lick, that one...'

"Right." He rumbles. "Show up wid Fex's sashes on. Look like we mean business AND we represent His Lordship. Simple." He says with a look at Drathi.

" 'cept I know these Iomedaeans. They'll get their knickers in a bunch and start feelin' their oats. They'll be lookin' fer someone ta take it out on."

He cracks the knuckles of his sword hand.

"That'd be unfortunate for them."

Aelden Cormallen wrote:

It's way harder than I thought it would be to be a stern, non-talky type.

In a galaxy far, far away there's a purple-haired girl looking at that statement in disbelief :-)

More seriously though, there's a reason I usually play chatterboxes.

Yes, Kara is clearly 'talky' as opposed to 'non-talky' (technical terms).

I wanted to try something different, and it just seemed like the right thing to do. Was also hoping it puts a little comical relief at times.

It's way harder than I thought it would be to be a stern, non-talky type. Finding a way to post when Aelden doesn't really have anything enlightening to add is hard!

Still, I'm enjoying being the grizzled fighter for a change.

'zzzzZZZZZZZ <snort> ZZZZZzzzzz' coming from his bedroll is Aelden's only reply.

Aelden admires the fine workmanship of the pommel, lost in thought. After a moment, he draws the blade halfway out of it's scabbard. He gives a low whistle as he observes the keen edge. With a snap, he puts blade back into the scabbard and removes his old blade. Strapping the new one on, he moves over to the table with the food and drink.

Settled in, he takes long draws from the wine bottle. In between drinks, Aelden stuffs his mouth with food. If the others didn't know any better, they'd swear this was the last meal of his life.

"Whut?" he says with a mouthful, after seeing everyone staring at him. "Ye don' get tuh eat foodh dhis gud ever' day."

"Well...we ARE a chatty lot, aren't we?" Aelden grumbles, ever the polite conversationalist. He looks over at Cimri. "When do we get paid?"

Aelden waxes poetic at the shadowy figure's compliment:

"Hrmmph" he grunts, and follows Cimri's nod back downstairs, where he looks for the payment.

"Without them thousand swords, Dollface, your revolution ain't worth squat. 'member that."

He does not look back until they reach the Ash House.

"Hrmph. Pleasant." is his eloquent comment.

'As I have told you in the past, often the tongue is sharper than the sword.'

"Hrmmph." Aelden mumbles. "Ain't no one ever died from two feet of tongue shoved in their gut. Steel's been known ta do that."

Aelden looks down at the man as he's on his knees on the floor. He doesn't say anything to Louislik, but his look is clear: 'Don't try anything...' He follows Cimri out.

Oh god! I pray I never have to add that much to a post! But I see the use of it. I will endeavor to NOT be the odd man out!

Did I miss a rule about using a Mechanics spoiler? I haven't been doing that...

SM: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Aelden shifts to the man's right. He gives Drathi a nod and a wink.

That's the only way I can figure to RP the assist on the Sense Motive.

This is a perfect case to illustrate my gripe with the Intimidate skill. Basing it on CHA is silly, but on the opposite hand, basing it on STR doesn't feel right either. It's purely an RP thing, but I can't see how or where to fit it so that it feels right.

The 'thunk' of the crossbow hitting Shady lets Aelden know the tanner isn't fooling around. He doesn't need the sight of the bloody bolt head protruding from his back to know how much that hurt. He rushes forward and try to grab the man by the shirt collar.

grapple: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Failing to get a good grasp, Aelden nevertheless stands right in the man's face. "I'd listen to th' lass, bub. You ain't seen angry yet..." His threat hangs out in the stale air of the office.

Aelden dons his hood with a sharp tug. He sheathes his sword and slings his shield before following the others inside.

"Let's go." Aelden grumbles, and starts toward the door.

Aelden flashes a quick nod at the man. "Thanks mate." He whispers. "Name's Aelden. Don't much care what our overly paranoid comrade thinks," he nods toward Cimri, "way I see it, men who share danger should know who they can count on. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, good work or whatever." Aelden mumbles, not sure who the crack about weak minds was aimed at. "Now. Let's just hope his office is in a different spot. Otherwise you just convinced him to go lock himself in there."

Aelden moves forward in his crouch, shield up. Move 30' towards Louislik, Total Defense.

No worries...happy new year all! Am back and ready to go!

Hope everyone is having a good Holiday season!

Aelden drops into a crouch to reduce his silhouette from the man's sight. He grimaces in pain, nearly cursing out loud as the wound in his leg continues to bleed.

At 50% hp here folks

Gang, if someone cast a boost to attacks and such, can we be more specific, please? I don't know what Serendipity does, if it affects all of us, etc. I'm going to assume it does.

"That's more like it..." Aelden grumbles under his breath, sliding his shield around to his left arm. NOW I'm at a 22 AC!

He angles the shield just so, and thrusts at the 'dog'. Grinning darkly at the satisfying 'crunch' of blade on bone.

Status: AC 22, 7/14 hp

As the dog(?) tears into his leg, Aelden has to choke back a yell.

'...quiet time, lad...'

He grimaces as he draws his sword, and strikes!

att: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21 dmg: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Status Note: I wouldn't have had my shield out when squeezing through the hole, so AC is only 19 for now.

Anyone catch on that Aelden's a bit gruff? ;)

Just his warm and fuzzy personality - quite the conversationalist, and charming too!

Aelden just grins at the woman. Rude for sure, but she'll get over it. Or not.

'...dogface?...meh, I've been called worse...'

Aelden is a bit startled when the grimy one turns into a wolf and stalks off. May be more so when he comes back and reports. But he doesn't show it. "Neat trick," he says to the man, 'Knuckles'. "But here's a neater one: when you light that damn cigarette there, the burning end can be seen a mile away in the dark. Nothing says: 'Hey we are out here watching your place!' like a glowing butt-end." Then he follows the others to the hole.

This was not his thing. You don't just squeeze armor and a shield through a small hole...but with 'Knuckles' help, he manages to free a strap from a nail that had snagged. He manages to get through it, but not without a dull 'clank' of his shield on the palisade wall. He gives Knuckles a nod of thanks.

Aelden sizes up the others in the light of the moon: not a real fighter amongst them, far as he can tell. He'd watch his own back thank you very much...

He scoffs as the dark-haired woman asks her question. "Hrmph. Ain't no one's 'friend', lass. As for what I bring, if'n you can't see it, maybe you need new eyes," he says with a slight gesture at his battle-worn sword and shield.

Aelden sits back in his chair, watching Cimri leave. '...knew you'd see it my way...' He ponders that comment for a moment, wondering why in the nine hells he was taking jobs from a little girl.

'...because you like to eat, Aelden, ol' boy. not to mention having a roof overhead...'

Moonday was another day. Time to get drunk...

Same. Ready to move to Moonday.

Aelden arrived at the designated rendezvous outside the gate just before 11 bells. Old habits die hard, and his soldier's instincts told him to be five minutes prior to the time, just in case.

That's the truth. An evil empire is an evil empire, after all.

"Hrmmph." Aelden grunts, pouring another dram of the Old Kraggar. He drains the shot and re-stoppers the bottle, tucking it away in his belt.

"Duty's overrated. When do I start?"

FYI: in my background snippet, Aelden is NOT the sergeant. He is just a grunt who broke and ran.

"Hrmmph." Aelden grunts, staring at the young girl in front of him. He's tempted to tell her to sod off. What the hell does she know about discipline, or ex-soldiers, or...anything...for that matter.

'...I'll be damned if I answer to some punk-kid who wants war stories to laugh at...'

But it's Old Kraggar. That isn't something you just throw around for laughs. It was one of the things they used to talk about in the long hours of a watch: what they'd do with their next pay. Old Kraggar's came up more than once. Well, along with the next two wenches that came around the corner, but that's another tale...

He snaps out of his reverie to drain his glass and slide it closer to...who? "I'm sorry," he growls, "you are...?"

Sorry guys, busy last two days, getting caught up.

*nobody uses staves because they are so damn expensive, and/or nearly never drop in an AP. When they do, it's rare that they are useful to a PC in the campaign. I've taken to making adjustments to adjudicate that so when you do get one, it's really a great event.

To DMD:

Good lord man! The Campaign Tab is most preciously wondrous (and appreciated!), but don't burn yourself out before we even start! That's an epic tome you wrote over there! :)

<tapping foot on the ground, checking watch>

"You ladies have your purses ready yet?"

j/k, I am ready.

Description
Aelden is a man who looks ten years older than his 30 years. His hair is - or was - dark, but now shows signs of grey all the way down through the beard. He is unshaven, with thick sideburns and facial hair. His look is sullen, eyes often downcast as he walks, a man who has seen too much. His equipment is worn, but well-maintained, a soldier's gear. He can often be found in the local watering hole, drinking something cheap and almost palatable. More often than not, he smells of whatever cheap swill he has been drinking that day.

I'll get a description, but you've seen as much of the background as I'm going to throw out at this point. Aelden's story and the trauma that followed will play itself out as we go.

Still lurking, waiting for you 'Spheres' types to figure out what you're going to do.