Aramus, The Brazen Fool's page

Here's Loup Blanc's submission, mechanically finished, other than mundane gear; I'd rather only go through purchasing that if accepted, since it takes a while and doesn't usually have a big impact on the character.

I'm hoping to have a written background to come, but highlights are a rough and tumble youth, getting the rest of the group into and out of trouble, and eventually leaving town to try and make it big as an adventurer. He actually ended up becoming a gladiator in [Insert nearest appropriate city], where he's risen to no small fame and fortune in the last few years. He's still got dreams of being an adventurer and helping people, but so far the cheers of the people and the payments (which have afforded him better equipment for adventuring) have kept him in place.

Loup Blanc here with an offering. Backstory to come; this obviously isn't as built up as some other submissions are looking to be, but hopefully he stands decently on his own. (And if people have suggestions on how to crank him up to 11, feel free to offer them; I looked at some of the templates, and at least one or two could fit.)

Hey, it's okay and I understand, man. Better to back off when you can rather than force things and burn yourself out. Take your time and let us know if and when you want to run something again--you know I'm always game.

Aramus, for his part, stands by, still mentally slapping himself for having forgotten about this method of finding out who owns the warehouse. "Most people really aren't so interested in this sort of thing, to be fair," he says, giving Triel a sheepish smile.

Oops, sorry, yeah, I was wondering how that'd be done myself. Wasn't sure of just who we'd go to see.
Lore (Absalom: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 And neither is Aramus, apparently.

The big man turns to face Elek, having been very curiously and deeply inspecting some of the items in the alleyway. He scratches his chin for a few long seconds, opens his mouth and eyes as though he's realized the answer, but then frowns and shakes his head. "Alas, my friend, people don't usually ask about private property on tours. I'm not sure exactly where we'd go to find that out. Maybe ask an Abadaran? They're big on that kind of thing."

On hearing Elek's call, Aramus grins and cracks his knuckles. "Right! Time for a clue hunt..." With that, he begins scouring the alleyway with his fine-tuned senses.

Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (20) - 2 = 18
The finest-tune senses he'll have all campaign, apparently.
"My gods! How have I never seen these things before?"

Aramus hums a jaunty tune to himself, grinning at passersby and hoping the group moves on from bloody murder soon. If the boys only knew what I was up to today... They might not even try to follow it up with a story of their own. He glances over his shoulder at sounds of talking inside, but it doesn't seem the others are done just yet.

Aramus, for his part, is once again the only member of the party visibly offput by the situation inside. "Uhm. I'll. Ah. I'll just keep an eye outside alright?" He fakes a smile and quickly retreats to stand just outside the warehouse door, in earshot if anything happens inside, but keeping an eye out for trouble on the street as well, and mercifully away from the gruesome display.

Aramus, for his part, stands at the mouth of the alley, blocking it as best he can with arms folded, doing his best to look menacing.

Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4

Aramus exits the sewers last, making sure everyone else gets up safely, and carefully drags the grate or cover back into place. He takes a moment to shadow his eyes, but it doesn't do much to help him in looking for clues.

Yeah, I'd agree with that idea. I've seen some games where it's even the two-person rule, although three is probably better since it gives more time for people to plan and dissent if they want to.

"Euch, this is why I don't go in the sewers very often. That and a deflorable lack of landmarks." Aramus shakes his head and scratches at some of the marks on his skin, but otherwise turns to the party and sets his fists on his hips. "So, we're off again, then?" He nods to Jonathan. "Lead the way, friend."

Fortitude: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Aramus finally succumbs to some disgust as the last of the rats swarm over his legs, biting and clawing at his skin, and he can do little more than try to shake them off as the others continue to attack.

Distraction: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Aramus comes back up from his first attack and brings his arms around once again. It becomes noticeable at this point that he isn't simply smashing down on the ground: his stance suggests formal training, if only some, in an actual martial art. His attacks are powerful, quick smashes, utilizing the strength and momentum of his whole body as he brings his fists down.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 - 1 ⇒ (12) + 6 - 1 = 17
Damage: 1d3 + 6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 3 = 10

Fortitude v Distraction: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Fortitude v Disease: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11 NOOOOOOOOOOO
Also, I didn't actually clarify, I was casting touch of combustion last round.

Aramus grimaces as the rats swarm in and their bites begin picking away at his ankles and shins. "Leave us, beasts!" he cries, plunging his fists down to smash into the rats, the fire blasting out from one.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 6 - 1 ⇒ (17) + 6 - 1 = 22
Damage: 1d3 + 6 + 3 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 3 + (4) = 14 10 bludgeoning, 4 fire. Not sure exactly how that'll translate to damage to the swarm but I think it's full damage? And I don't know if it applies but they may need to make a DC 14 Reflex save or catch on fire.

Aramus mutters briefly and raises one hand, fingers outstretched. After a moment, he clenches it, and flame bursts into life around his forearm and fist. If the rats don't run from the fire, then I guess we'll see how much we can do here.

Aramus frowns as Triel and Zalika respond, and then grins and holds up his hands. "My apologies. I'm used to protecting people, and I didn't see much armor on you. Chain only goes so far, right?" He gestures to Triel's linked shirt. "Glad to have friends to stand with in a fight, instead of just folks to stand in front of."

"...I don't suppose any of you angered the Absalom Carpenters' Guild since you've been in the city?" Aramus gives a nervous chuckle and then breathes deeply. "I'm guessing we've got something bad heading our way. Better get behind me if you don't want to--" He cuts off mid-sentence and blinks several times, looking at Jonathan and Elek. "Er. Right. Never mind. Ladies, if you'd like to stay back, it would be my pleasure."

"Then let's get moving!" Aramus grins and sallies forth--although he keeps the sallying such that he stays at most by Jonathan's side, not wanting to get lost himself.

"Well, there's really no telling just what might live down here." Aramus gives a shrug. "Lots of rumors, but it's hard to say what's true and what's made up. I've heard of everything from aboleth spies to Aroden himself skulking about in the sewers."

"Oh, come now. Think of it as an adventure of sorts. A mind-widening experience for the eyes and the nose! There's beauty to be had even here, you know." Aramus grins and claps Zalika on the shoulder. "Why, these sewers are actually quite an important part of the city, if you think about it..." And the hotspur begins to chat up some of the history of the system, what little he knows--after all, most visitors to the city don't spend much time in its (almost literal) bowels.
Lore: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

Aramus waits until the others enter the opening, and then drops down behind them. Thank you once more, Sarenrae, for giving me my own personal sunlight in my eyes, to see even in dark places.

Aramus moves down with Jonathan and Zalika, and arrives just after Vindir's manifestation. He sees the introduction between Elek and the pale blue elven man and steps up himself, grinning widely. "Well, Triel's been a good friend of mine in the time I've known her, so any brother of hers is a friend as well. I'm Aramus." The big man steps forward and sticks his hand out in greeting.

Presumably after something awkward, he moves to the grate and looks at it with a hairy eye. "So... do we go down?" Unless anyone stops him, Aramus squats down, grips the bars, and heaves.

Strength: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15 If necessary, given his lifting capabilities.

At a slight loss for what to do, Aramus decides to stick with someone who seems to know what they're doing here. Being that the masked man seems to prefer solitary sneaking, the hotspur joins Zalika, following her into whatever quarters she finds and assisting in the search as best he can.

Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1

"Whoa! Is that a BOOK?! Do you think it's important?"

"In my line of work it's usually better to be stand out than hide." Aramus shrugs helplessly and hangs back. "I think this is all you, friend."

Aramus continues to defer to those who seem more used to these activities--namely everyone present--but he does clear his throat and raise a hand at the mention of spells. "I do have a knack for some magic myself. Mostly to help with what I already did. But, uh, it's less sneaky knock-out and more big fiery punch of pain."

Aramus creeps about with the others, his shoulders hunched over and his gait a pronounced creep, in some attempt to move more inconspicuously. "Wait, the guard? Couldn't we explain ourselves?"

"OF course." Aramus nods and waits for Elek to climb through the window before offering his hand toward the others. "After you," he says with a smile. Whether they accept his gesture or not, the big hotspur clambers in after the others, doing his best to remain quiet.

I'd assume we're using a window, seeing as the front door is probably both locked and obvious to anyone/everyone inside.

Aramus moves with the others, trying to stay quiet and hunched over, but not very successful given his size. As Jonathan stops at the windows and peers in, Aramus waits for him to move on before glancing inside himself. "Oh, we should go through the parlor. People keep all sorts of neat things in there. The best place to look for things is in plain sight, right?"

Hey all, posting in all my games to say that as of this evening I'm going camping with family and then paintballing for several days, so I won't be able to post. I'll be back the evening of Sunday the 10th, and hopefully I'll be back to regular posting and catching up then or Monday morning. Please bot me as needed while I'm away!

"I think so," Aramus replies to Elek's question, peering into the grounds.

We're really good at subtlety, guys.

"Wow! Pretty nimble and crafty, that one, eh?" Aramus chuckles and strolls back toward the main gate, stretching his arms wide and recasting his small enchantment on his eyes. "And here I thought I'd just get to see some history being made today. Now it looks like I'm stuck living it."

"So we're off to the Captain's estate, eh?" Aramus raises his eyebrows and folds his arms. "I'm not one for breaking into a man's home, but if it's for the greater good, then we do what we must. Surely they'll forgive us what we do in the name of justice?" The big man looks to the others, apparently hoping someone will reassure him that yes, this is okay.

"Ahm, if you need something moved, I can help with that," Aramus offers. He steps up to the bed and chest, assuming Jonathan allows him to do so, and takes a wide stance before moving them, seemingly almost without effort. "They're not just good for standing out in a crowd, huh?" he comments, grinning.

Well, this does assume he can move them with his 920-pound carrying capacity, although lifting off the ground and dragging around probably do have some visible effort behind them.

Well, although he wasn't known for it particularly, Batman could fence.

Of course, Aramus could always be called Armstrong even though he isn't a perfect fit, so whatever works.

Hey all, sorry it took me so long to get back here, settling back in was chaotic. Time to play a little catch-up...

"The only one here I trust is the brazen oaf, Aramus." Jonathan inclines his head slightly towards the other large man, but his eyes never leave Elek. "He seems too foolish to be anything but genuine.

Aramus frowns for a moment, but then grins and clasps his hands behind his head. "Well, I guess it's better than not being trusted at all." When Elek greets him, the big hotspur nods and clasps the new arrival's wrist. "That's my name, but I guess 'brazen oaf' works too. Good to have you, Elek." With that, Aramus walks alongside the others to the site of the crime, not paying much attention to Zalika and Jonathan's side conversation.

"I warn you, it's... unpleasant."

Aramus raises his eyebrows, and then lifts them even more at his companions' responses. Surely they aren't so used to ugliness in the world? Although I suppose they would be. There's so much, these days. He shrugs and heads inside, where he promptly catches his breath and locks up.

Triel is a drow, raised in the worship of demons and all manner of foul practices. Elek was raised a warrior at the Worldwound, accustomed to battle and its aftermath. Jonathan is from Galt, where bloody revolution has held sway for decades. Even Zalika has seen her share of gore, no doubt. But Aramus was born and raised in Absalom, and the most blood he's seen is from a butcher's shop or a street brawl. The horror of the room clearly afflicts him, and the big man swallows heavily. "I, ah... I'm no good with this sort of thing. I'll wait here."

With that, he stands by the door with the guard, clearly unnerved, and only more put off by the ease with which his allies go over the room. Each squelch of the carpet brings a wince from the big man, and only when the priest comes to perform the rites does he finally unclench his jaw and fists. At the suggestion of leaving to speak with the Captain, he doesn't speak up, but the relief is clear in his eyes.

Re: Sorcerer levels--at this point, my plan is for Aramus to take exclusively sorcerer levels from now on, actually. My plan for him is to become the archetypal muscle mage, so his spells will be split between blasting and buffs for the most part. I'm thinking dual-pathing Archmage with Champion will probably be what Aramus goes for once we hit Mythic; Archmage gives some nice boosts to spellcasting, and Champion will probably help shore up his base offensive ability.

So, in a word, yeah, Aramus is going to be a "focused caster," just not quite in the absolutely typical sense. His setup is definitely for damage output, though, as far as that goes.

"Ahhh, crafty." Aramus grins and rubs his hands together, then claps them, entirely destroying any image of subtle plotting. "So we just need to get a guard to take us there, right?"

"Of course!" Aramus replies to Triel. He isn't clear whether the Triel's question of allowance was actually directed at him, but either way. "With cooperation we can accomplish anything!"

With that, he bounds across the room with the dark elf, nodding his head to Jonathan as well. "Well, my masked friend, let's find us a murderer."

"I'll step up to investigate!" The words are out of Aramus's mouth before even he realizes it. He'd been stunned by the news of Lord Gyr's death, not doubting the truth since everyone here believed it. Now he finds himself standing in the midst of diplomats and spies, people with a great deal more wits, knowledge, and power than him. Clearing his throat, he steps forward.

"I may just be a hotspur, but I guess I'm also a representative of the people of Absalom. Lord Gyr was our speaker here, but if he's dead now... I guess it falls to us to find out what happened. To speak for ourselves about what's happening in the world. And I'm no diploma, but I'd like to at least help discover who killed my lord."

Aramus rose to meet the sun as he usually did, basking in its warm radiance as it dawned on the city. From his place high up in a tower, he watched it crest the horizon and felt the rays on his chest. "Sarenrae, Shelyn, Iomedae--all the gods! It's good to see another day, and with such good tidings! You paint the sky with such fire, the fire of our hearts, our passions! The fire of kindling righteous responses to the threat in the north, the fire of our grand assault against the demons that plague us. The shadowy demons inside us all--!"

"Quiet!" screeched a voice from a window nearby. Aramus caught his words and finished his exultation in a hushed tone. "Anyway, thank you for another day, and let's hope it's a good one!" He tossed a wink to the sun and then went back down the tower.

The morning was busy, with Aramus checking in and catching up with friends, fellow hotspurs who were eagerly discussing the conference and the many strange folks here. Talk of devils, fey in disguise, even undead who walked down the city streets, all filled the gathered locals with wonder and awe. Aramus himself was filled with a desire to return to the conference, and see the developments firsthand.

Of course, his other obligations took time as well, and it wasn't until well after breakfast that he managed to make his way back to the gathering. He strides in triumphantly though, beaming, knowing he's in the right place because a quick-footed messenger just entered moments before.

And so, once again, the big man enters the gathering just after an important announcement, in the stunned silence that follows. He waves to Triel and Acharn, the first of his friends he sees, and mouths What did I miss?

Aramus does his best to keep pace, but there comes a point at which the pair simply can't follow Lord Gyr. "Well, a man's entitled to his privacy," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess I'm off to check on some things, see if anyone else needs a guide, and then maybe get some sleep." He claps Jonathan on the shoulder again and grins. "I'll be seeing you again, I'm sure. Even if it's only at a distance!" So saying, the large hotspur sets off, making his way back into the city streets.

After a couple moments he stops suddenly as if a thought has hit him. "I never did get that bread!" he shouts, and then he bounds off once more.

Aramus is just going to do basic errands, and probably check in on the elf girl at the herbalist's again, but nothing of import. I'm guessing Jonathan's just going to go do his spy/secret police thing, so being that there isn't really much we can do now, I'd say we're probably fine moving forward.

"Hmm. You're right. They're probably much craftier than I am... not that that's saying much, eh?" Aramus chuckles and nudges Jonathan in the side, then follows after him through the crowd. The big man moves like the opposite of a ghost: where the Gardener slips through the throng without drawing attention, Aramus bumps into people and has to push them aside. Most people he's kind enough to, apologizing and trying to move past without causing too much trouble; if anyone gives him an overly rude reaction, he returns a stink eye and pushes past anyway.

As they move through the crowd and back out into the streets, Aramus muses alongside Jonathan, grunting and humming rather than speaking aloud. "Well, with all the magic, maybe they could use something... else? Something not magic at all. Seeing invisible things doesn't help if they're just hiding well, right? So maybe if everyone's so worried about magic, a regular person could just walk up and stab them."

Oh, that's Aramus getting words wrong. He meant auspicious. It sounded similar enough for the joke.

He's done it a few times.

Aramus continues to scan the crowd as the conference comes to an end for this day. "Seems I got here just in time to leave," he says with a chuckle. "Ah well."

As folks begin to break apart, Aramus approaches Jonathan and claps the Gardener on the shoulder. "So tell me, my masked friend. What did you think of the supposed threat, and the happenings today? Seems we're off to an ospreyish start, wouldn't you say?" He lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper... that can probably be heard for several feet. "Think we should tail those scoundrelous dark elves?"

"Who's Jonathan, again? Don't recall the name." Aramus stands and follows Maximo's gesture. "Oh, the man in the mask! Hmm. Can we... trust him?" Aramus pats his face. "Usually I don't trust people who wear masks. Unless it's at a mask party."

Aramus tries to block out the political bickering and squats down next to Maximo, listening to the Talon's story with a serious expression. "Disguised drow, eh?" The big man muses as he rubs his jaw, casting a suspicious gaze about the room. "Where are they? I might have a word with them about the importance of teamwork and doing the right thing..."

Aramus likely moves to Maximo, then, since he's in the crowd and probably fairly obvious.

The big man looks down at the kobold and raises his eyebrows high in question. "Intruders who want to see us all squabble amongst ourselves and collapse? Where are they?" He adds these to his earlier questions, hoping the strange little traveler can fill him in.

Just after Maximo's announcement, in what is likely a moment of silent surprise, a familiar booming voice comes out from the back of the crowd, near the entrance of the Great Vault. "It didn't start, did it? I'm not LATE, am I?" Sure enough, shortly after the voice rings out, Aramus pushes through the crowd and comes to a place near the front of the public. He slaps the side of his head and looks around at the proceedings, giving a large wave to everyone he recognizes.

After a second, he blinks and turns to the nearest citizen. "Oh, I interrupted, didn't I?" He claps his hands together and shakes his head. "I'm so, so sorry." With that, he begins edging towards the nearest of the people he'd met earlier that day and whispers to them, again quite loudly, "What did I miss? What's the plan?"

I'm not sure of the layout of the room and where people are at the moment, so I don't know who "the closest" of the party would actually be, but I figure anybody works.

Hey all, I am here, just like the GM said, I've been sick. Things have been up and down, and I've kept up with some games better than others. Aramus is going to show up at some point here, have no fear, I just haven't been up to constructing his arrival post just yet.