Arlk Shatter-Shell's page

Arlk's head turned beneath his hood. His sense of smell was one of the many things that didn't work as well as it might have, these days.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 15

Arlk completely fails to comment on the slights against his people, and continues to look out to sea. "It is good we're unlikely to see fighting at the moment, at least above the waves. Are they any natural creatures in these waters that might be a threat?"

I'm afraid I may or may not post too. My mother just passed away, and I'm afraid my mood is shifting between 'post all the things to keep the brain fugg away' and 'post nothing, screw it'.

"Who wouldn't fear mountains that spewed fire, rock and poison gas? I imagine they're of ill repute to anyone that cannot survive the lava." Arlk wasn't thrilled with the idea of going near the burning islands, but if you wanted to hide something valuable, and had the means to keep it safe from the liquid stone pouring out...there were few places safer, really.

You'd have to be a little crazy to even try.

Alrk scanned the oceon waves, simply enjoying the view.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Still here.

Arlk found somewhere out of the way on deck, simply enjoying the feeling of the ocean and the smell of salt in the air. It was where the Bedool belonged, even if they had to spend time on land sometimes, and too much of his life had been spent away from it.

...he also watched the crew and the ship. The captain not being present spoke of oddness, and he wanted to see how the crew were reacting to the situation. If this was normal then it was clear that the first mate would be the place to go in an emergency, although he couldn't understand why they bothered with such a pretence.

He would certainly be more nervous if the captain only appeared at night and people started getting mysteriously ill during the voyage.

Insight: 1d20 ⇒ 9

Arlk carefully didn't react to the comment. He'd had plenty of practice not reacting to such simple barbs. But Kadlitz had just moved to the bottom of his priority list in an emergency. "My people don't think of land as anything worth living on. It's just somewhere for the young and the injured until they are ready to return to the sea."

Insight: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Looking around the group, Arlk found them unreadable. "It is...possible, I suppose," The Bedool considered it for a moment. "Although I find it somewhat unlikely that we would have built one we couldn't get back to." Some of the Bedool should be able to reach the island, if not all. Still, if it was that dangerous to approach, he should certainly be ready to swim.

Arlk nodded, heading for whichever bed looked like it would be the simplest to get in and out of and stowed his gear. Sitting on the edge with as much grace as he could muster, he glanced at his temporary companions. "Do you know why my people avoid this island?" It would likely be difficult to approach with reefs or monsters, and if they were probably going to rip the hull out Arlk would like to know

Alrk looked over the cluster of experts for this expedition and wonders what on earth this was all about. Surely any normal excusion wouldn't require much in the way of security such as a group like they could provide? "I am Arlk. Are you expecting issues? Perhaps undead or traps within whatever site we're going to?"

Geologists, huh. Interesting. "Arlk. Arlk Shatter-Shell."

"Hail, captain." The Bedool nodded to the captain, waiting at the gangplank.

Pushing the remains of his drink to one side, Arlk nodded his hood in agreement with the others, rising his feet with an unpleasant series of clicks and cracks and following along, his form bent over somewhat.

"I assume you had a job, and we were the most suited." The pile of robes shrugged a shoulder. "Or you didn't think us suited to the melee."

"Arlk," the Bedool rasped slowly. "Arlk Shatter-Shell. I am..." He paused for a moment. What was he, exactly? At least in the eyes of others. He knew he'd made a Pact, a Pack with the Blade. But not everyone understood Warlocks especially well, or the deals they made.

"I can call upon weapons no matter what, and I am capable of using some Magics."

Glancing around at the assembled people - and there unusual skill set - Arlk considered, "Must be odd, to want us all. Small band, diverse abilities. Be an interesting one."

That's fine, it'll probably be mostly a Q&A section or starting the mission.

...deja vu.

The hood turns to stare at Shanga for a moment, then a light snrk emerges. Arlk had no time, interest or energy to play 'Who wields the Biggest Bow?' with the man, and no desire to do so. Still, it was nice to hear at least some of others had the sense they were born with.

"We're paid good gold to work together," he muttered in a raspy tone, taking a sip of his drink to soothe his throat. "Either settle up now, before the work begins, or leave."

It was...homely to hear the water, even if the lack of motion from the waves was disappointing. The decommissioned ship certainly smelled like home, the salt having long since soaked into the timbres. The scent of alcohol was certainly a feature of most ships as well, although the sharp, harsh bite of naval rum (an alcohol that could strip the varnish from the deck) was joined by mellower tones such as beer, mead, whisky and wine.

Shambling from the bar itself with a mug in one gnarled hand, Arlk Shatter-Shell moved slowly towards the corner with Reep sitting in it. The shambling pile of cloth grunted slightly as he used a free hand to drag a chair out with a grinding noise, and sat down with another grunt. Arlk's broken form wasn't the most mobile, although he wasn't as lamed as he'd once been. It just hurt to do anything, but if he let pain stop him do something...

"Any idea what the job is?" he asked outlout, his voice slightly raspy from beneath the hood he wore. He glanced around the emptied bar, wondering if the boss was keeping the public out so they could have some quiet to chat, or whether it was simply not the right time for patrons.

Arlk has likely been there a few months, joining as it's a good way to travel and work while being paid to do so.

Arlk: Proficiency Bonus is +2 for third level. I mentioned some boons based on backstory elements in the recruitment to help offset abysmal rolls. I think for Arlk I'll go with the following:

1.) Owing to decades of pain and torture, Arlk gains the Toughness feat.

2.) While wielding your pact weapon, you can treat your Charisma as 18 for the purposes of using warlock class features. That mostly means spell attack/spell DC, but will apply to the Hexblade feature that substitutes Cha for attack and damage rolls as well.

Finally, we'll need to flesh out some details about your patron to adequately attach some strings to these gifts.

Darn, how did I mess that up? Sorry.

And that sounds...pretty damned awesome, actually. It'll mean I'll likely be having him have a lot more confidence and calm when he's holding a pact weapon.

I'm happy to go into more details about what his Hexblade Patron might want, but I haven't got anything specific in mind if you'd prefer to make it up and spring it on me.

I'll buy some survival gear, but since armour and weaponry are already taken care of...

Just so everyone knows, I'll be heading on holiday for a week from today. It shouldn't affect me posting once a day, but if it does I figured you should know.

*Looks at dice rolls up to now.* You know what? I think I'll take the average. I can only imagine that I'll roll snake eyes.