"It's something, I suppose," Ardainn says. "I give you suitable thanks for what help you have given, ex-bandit."
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"Are you bandits still? If not, then there was no insult."
"You say you were bandits?" Ardainn says. "You may decide to withhold information and allow my people to remain prisoners and slaves because your feelings got hurt. If you feel guilt or discomfort because of harm you caused in the past, it seems the best cure would be to help, rather than hinder me. Then I could applaud your change of heart, recognize you as friends and allies, and compensate you for the grievous harm my words have caused you."
"All I've asked of you is information. I am not going to apologize for wanting to recover my wife. If you are determined to obstruct me in my search, so be it." He sighs and looks to Kressle. "If my forgiveness is the price you require for aid, please tell me what you seek forgiveness for."
"Why should hearing me speak of what was done to me and my family piss you off? Unless you mean to say that the scum I met were within their rights to attack us, murder and enslave my friends and family. Is that what you mean?"
"I would welcome your aid, Bridgitte," Ardainn says. He glances at Kressle, and as he speaks, his voice grows colder and angrier. "We weren't asked for help by starving men and women. We were attacked from ambush by warriors who only thought to kill or enslave as many of us as possible, and rob those who could not escape. If my wife is alive, she's a slave, because of them. Tell me how else should I view these people, if not harshly?" "It was a few miles," he says to Happs. "An hour, maybe two."
"The lake was a short ride from the nearest forest," Ardainn says, thinking back. "Certainly within a few miles. I don't recall an island."
Ardainn frowns in thought, trying to remember where he last saw his bride. "A lake," he said at last. "We watered the horses by the shore a few hours before they struck us."
Ardainn studies Happs for a moment, gauging the man's trustworthiness, but decides there's no way to make any headway in his search if he doesn't ask the questions he needs to ask. "The folk in Sarain told us to follow the River into a forest, and that by striking north from there. We were in sight of the woods when the bandits struck. I was wounded early in the fight, and so I did not see where they took their prisoners."
GM - I'm happy to be very specific about where the ambush happened. I've been intentionally vague, because I'm not quite sure at what point I'd be stepping on your toes. Should I go ahead and say exactly where, to my knowledge, it was?
"The south," Ardainn says, turning to face Happs. "Up the old road from Kyonin. In Avendale, we heard the roads were impassable to the north, so we headed cross country towards Brevoy, trusting to the rangers to bring us through safely. We made it to Sarain and it was a few days north of there that we were attacked."
"I wish I could, Bridgette," he said. "A group of us were travelling through these lands and they attacked us in the night. I was wounded badly early in the fight, and passed out. When I awoke, half the party I traveled with were gone, including my wife. The other survivors said they thought she had been captured, not killed, and I've come to try to find her. And to pay back the bandits who attacked us for the harm they've done." He hangs his cloak to dry and sits on the floor, back against a bale of hay, looking at the woman curiously. "What brings you to this godsforsaken place?"
Ardainn sees there is no sign of anyone keeping watch or any place to keep watch from, and retires to the stable to stay out of the rain.
Recruitment, but there's a long and demanding vetting process they make you go through first. PS Never trust a grumpy elf.
"I'll keep looking, then. Thanks," Ardainn says to Halloran. He looks at Kira and then up at the sky. He shrugs and pulls his cloak around himself. "Yeah. If you're worried about getting wet, you better get inside." He looks up at the top of the wall. "Not to be rude, but is someone going to be on watch? Country can't be too safe if the gates have to be shut every time it rains."
Now that the gate is finally closed, Ardainn approaches Halloran. "Thank you for your welcome," he says, a bit stiffly. "If there is time, I would ask if there is any news of a party of elves taken by bandits in this region."
Ardainn realizes he's pushing on the wrong side of the door and steps out of the way.
Ardainn leans into the gate to help push, but his feet slip in the mud. He manages not to fall flat on his face, but steps away, scowling fiercely. "I am searching for an elf," he says to Dante as he recovers himself. "She was taken by bandits some weeks ago, not far from here. Is there someone here who knows the local brigands?"
Ardainn finishes seeing to his horse, and walks back out into the rain. Seeing a group gathering at the gates, he approaches. "I'd be glad to lend my strength to this chore," he says. "If no one objects, I would stay in the stables, where I can keep an eye on the horses."
"My thanks to you, Halloran, and to Oleg and Svetlana," Ardainn calls out, and then clicks his tongue, sending the horse trotting through the gate. He rides into the stable before dismounting. He finds a stall for his horse and strips saddle and harness, and rubs the horse dry with a blanket. When he has made sure that his horse is fed, watered, comfortable and cared for, he will check on the others, and only then will he venture out of the stable.
Ardainn rides toward the compound with the ease and practice of years on horseback. He clucks his tongue and rides ahead, reining up just outside the gate. He pats his mount's neck and looks up at the walls. "Greetings to the hold. I am Ardainn, Jadan's son," he calls out. "May we bring our horses and ourselves in from the rain?"
As long as we're nitpicking, Ardainn probably wouldn't wear combat boots. You could slap a cloak on him and make him look pissed, but beyond that, I think I like it. Now I have to finish my equipment and update my profile. Permission to dot gameplay thread?
Looks good.
Ardainn would probably be a handsome elf if he would stop scowling so much. Unfortunately, since his new bride was taken by bandits in the very lands he's been sent to explore, his scowl has taken up permanent residence on his features. He is tall, lithe, and moves with the grace of a prowling cat, and his dark hair is worn in a warrior's braid that reaches to his waist. He wears simple, well-worn leathers and a long waterproof cloak. Should he be seen without a shirt, there is a terrible scar under his left arm, where a bandit's axe very nearly finished him off, in the battle when Istiel was taken. He's about 6'6"
Lots of good characters here.
I made this character for a Kingmaker game that fizzled out before we got to second level. I was very much enjoying the character and the campaign, and would love to continue with this character. Upgraded to 2nd lvl: Ardainn Jadanas Elf Ranger 2 NG Medium humanoid (elf) Init +4; Senses low-light vision; Perception +9 -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 14 (+4 armor, +4 Dex) hp 18 (2d10+2) Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +3; +2 vs. enchantments Immune magic sleep; Resist elven immunities -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. Melee masterwork elven curve blade +6 (1d10+4/18-20/×2) Ranged masterwork longbow +7 (1d8/×3) Special Attacks favored enemy (humans +2) Ranger Spells Prepared (CL 0; concentration +2): -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 12, Dex 18, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 10 Base Atk +2; CMB +2; CMD 17 Feats Power Attack, Weapon Finesse Traits dilettante artist, indomitable faith Skills Climb +4, Diplomacy +5, Handle Animal +5, Knowledge (geography) +5 (+7 vs. humans), Knowledge (nature) +6 (+7 while in forest terrain, +8 vs. humans), Perception +9 (+11 vs. humans), Perform (sing) +1, Ride +7, Stealth +8, Survival +8 (+9 while in forest terrain, +10 vs. humans, +9 to track), Swim +4; Racial Modifiers +1 Knowledge (nature), +2 Perception, +1 Survival, woodcraft Languages Common, Elven, Sylvan SQ combat styles (two-handed weapon), track, wild empathy Other Gear Masterwork Chain shirt, Masterwork Elven curve blade, Masterwork Longbow, Backpack (2 @ 8 lbs), Bedroll, Hammock, 7 GP, 8 SP -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Dilettante Artist (Perform [sing], Diplomacy) You gain a +1 trait bonus to one category of Perform checks and a +1 trait bonus to Diplomacy checks. One of these skills (your choice) is always a class skill for you. Elven Immunities +2 save bonus vs Enchantments. Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects. Favored Enemy (Humans +2) (Ex) +2 to rolls vs Favored Enemy (Humans). Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail. Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage. Track +1 Add the listed bonus to survival checks made to track. Wild Empathy +2 (Ex) Improve the attitude of an animal, as if using Diplomacy. Woodcraft +1 Knowledge (Nature) and Survival, increasing to +2 in forests.
"Yes," Ardainn says. "We should go east, and we will return to visit you soon, friends."
Yeah, but faerie dragon familiar would be amazing. I'm looking forward to getting my animal companion, which won't be as awesome as a faerie dragon, but will still be awesome.
Ardainn grins when the little ones tell how they helped his people escape. When they tell that she is safe, he closes his eyes and nods his head, and for a long moment, he says nothing. "Perlivash and Tyg-Titter-Tut," he says after a long while. His throat is tight, and when he opens his eyes, he looks at the sky first. "You have given me the best news imaginable. My lady is Istiel. I will write a note for her, if you would deliver it, you will be my friend for life." Scratching with an arrowhead on a piece of birch bark, Ardainn writes a brief message to Istiel. He thinks long and hard about each mark, and several minutes pass before he smiles again, and holds the message out to the grig. Istiel, my love. I live. Keep yourself safe with the dryad. I will come for you."
Ardainn breathes a sigh of relief. "The elves you saw were my friends," he says. He smiles, his face brightening and seeming unusually pleasant. "One was going to be my wife, and I must find her. Can you tell me where you saw them and when?"
He grins at the gnome and bends down, lifting his feet over his head as if it's something he does every day. Sylvan:
"Would you let me help clear out the mean biggenses, my noble friend?" he asks the grig, then turns to the dragon. "And you, merry dragon. I would like to be your friend. Then we could help each other."
Ardainn sees the two small creatures emerge from the forest and grins, chuckling softly and nodding to them, acknowledging their joke. He attempts to identify them and smiles. "It was very well played, little ones," he says, wiping more of the muck off himself. "We certainly fell for it. I wonder if you might know of other elves, like me, that have passed this way?"
Ardainn tries his best to wipe himself off, and to find the humor in the trick. After bear traps and logfalls and everything else, he knows rotting berries are fairly harmless, but still ... ech.
Ardainn climbs out, scowling, looking around for the source of the laughter.
Ardainn moves quickly towards the voice.
Ardainn looks at the cut rope and frowns. "A small blade did this," he says. "We had small visitors in our camp last night. we should be on alert tonight, perhaps doubling up on watches."
Ardainn searches the area for tracks, hoping to find the way back to the trapper's camp.
Ardainn stays a healthy distance back, his bow at the ready. Moving slowly, he angles off the path, towards the top of the hill.
The first line was Vors, heading east.
Ardainn rubs his eyes and looks around. "It would seem we had visitors in the night," he says, scowling. "I suppose we should keep an eye peeled for our small guests." After a few minutes searching nearby, he returns to the camp. "I see no sign of any tracks here."
Ardainn looks indignant for a moment as he holds up the ring, but then he chortles and shakes his head. "Very well, Farfadet," he says, still chuckling. "I'll hold it until we've had the chance to restore the region's bridges." He lends his strength to the task of restoring the cairn.
Ardainn glances at Asha and then nods to the little gnome, shifting the stones carefully, so he can replace them when they've finished.
I hadn't given pacing a moment's thought til now, which I think means you're doing it right. For myself, I don't care to spend a hundred posts to roleplay a bartering exchange that the dice handle in a Diplomacy check. I don't want to entirely reduce such things to dice rolls either, but finding a balance where much of the nitty-gritty bartering is implicit is a good thing, imho. Like with the bandits, a few posts of feeling them out, intimidating and redeeming them is good. We don't need every single threat Ardainn mutters over the course of three days travel. Or two. Blah blah blah. TL;DR: yer doing good
After a moment's study, Ardainn shrugs his shoulders. "I see no harm here," he says. "It is old." He joins Asha clearing the brambles away.
Ardainn scowls intently, studying the cairn to see if he can see how long it's been here, and if it represents any threat.
You guys handled it like pros. I was so confident that I decided to go swimming. That's how I remember it, anyway.
Leading the group to the southwest at a more cautious pace, Ardainn does his best to supplement their weathered apples, hard cheese, and stale bread with mysterious roots, eggs, nuts and berries. survival checks:
Ardainn stares glumly into the fire. Two traps, he walked into today. And Vors another. His taste for vengeance is undiminished, but it occurs to him that whoever set these traps could be a useful ally, or a deadly foe. "Hunting would be good," he says. "Though it seems that this area is picked fairly thin. I would suggest we slow down, as long as we're in these trappers' territory. The tracks suggest they may have come from the southwest, and bandits also mentioned trappers to the southwest. And I have my own reasons for wishing to search in that direction."
"I am unharmed, but I fear I owe that to luck more than anything," Ardainn says to Vors. "I agree that we should press on, but with reasonable caution." He takes a moment to study the area around the trap, looking for any sign of who - or what - may have left such a thing.
We have extra horses. A driver would be good. I think we're going to need to find somewhere else to plant our flag before we overwhelm Oleg, though. |