I understand the feeling, GM. Take your time and come back when you're ready.
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"Just up with the others is fine." Arradir closes his eyes before the teleportation, thinking it might make him dizzy to watch the whole time, and shortly finds himself up on the balcony near the rest of the party.
The fight on the ground over, Arradir holds Ylva as gently as he can across his shoulders. He steps toward the casters on the balcony, hoping one of them can teleport him up as he's seen them do already--it's not really feasible for him to climb up with a hound in his hands.
Hearing the war bull halt his charge, Arradir gives a quick smile to Kresh. "Maybe you could get us onto that balcony in return?" He gingerly shifts Ylva and nods at the height--he can't very well climb it with the hound on his shoulders.
"Let me try," Arradir says to Kresh, stepping forward with Ylva resting across his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and then bellows up to the balcony, his voice carrying down the passage. "Kruuh! Come back before your master decides you'd make a better armor than a weapon!" The man's quality has a hard, commanding tone to it, used to years of commanding animals.
Arradir is once more grateful for Rodok's healing, but for now, Ylva remains unconscious. He keeps moving with the hound on his shoulders, trying to keep with the group and listen for trouble.
Arradir shakes his head, trying to clear it as he stands and looks around. There isn't much can be done for the most part, so he moves to Ylva's form and, after checking that she's breathing, heaves the dog onto his shoulders. "You all give chase, I'll catch up." He nods his thanks to Kresh and Rodok for their healing, and begins following the others.
Arradir blinks and gasps as he returns to consciousness, brought back by Kresh's healing magic. He reaches out and grabs his spear, but there's little else he can do without opening himself to the beast's attacks. Instead, he braces, ready to roll aside and defend himself if it turns to face him.
Somehow, Arradir remains standing despite the ferocious claws and teeth of the beast. Perhaps he's a great warrior, or maybe he's simply driven by anger and desperation. Whatever the case, he howls and lunges again.
Arradir grunts and staggers under the beast's assault, but his anger drives him on. Almost without hearing Kresh's words, the man stabs forward with his spear again.
Arradir howls in rage as the beast assaults his companion, and he thrusts forward with his spear, all his weight behind the blow. Words could not capture the pain in his shout, nor the hate in his eyes.
"Ylva, flank! Strike where it's weak!" Arradir points with one hand as he moves toward the beast, and his hound faithfully moves to the other. The man harries it from one side, distracting it with his spear, while his dog plants position and snaps, her jaws gleaming.
As it becomes apparent a fight will start soon, Arradir lets go of Ylva's collar, a signal to the dog that she's "off the leash" for the time being. He also gives a throaty grumble, like he's dislodging something, and calmly speaks. "Ylva, fight." The hound barks in return, her tail raised and swishing from side to side, her teeth bared.
Arradir calmly slides his knife into its sheath and moves to ready his spear, which had been strapped to the side of his pack alongside his bow. He keeps one hand on Ylva's neck, keeping her at heel despite her raised hackles and low growling.
Arradir pauses when it suddenly becomes pitch-black, and Lady Arvina's voice echoes from the darkness. He reaches out a hand and touches Ylva's collar, and he whispers, "Can you smell her, girl? Bad, but heel."
Arradir lights up as Kresh takes a look at Ylva and quickly has the dog to her usual self again. To most of the party, it may not have been apparent that she was slouching earlier, but now she stands tall and eager--nearly three feet at the shoulder, and probably taller than a man if she stood on her hind legs. She looks between Kresh and Arradir with almost a grin, and licks the dwarf's hand once before trotting to Arradir's side. For his part, the man smiles and claps Kresh on the shoulder. "My thanks." Arradir spends a moment patting and brushing the dog, and then he looks to the others. "So, where to? Just follow the girl, right?"
"Hope you don't mind my saying, but you seem to have... little control over him." Arradir frowns and looks between dwarf and bull. "Now may not be the time, but I could work with him later. I'm used to training animals." The man turns and scratches Ylva's head, and she looks up at him with tired, loopy eyes, her tongue lolling with a speckle of froth. "Though she's in a bad way at the moment... Damned Imperials."
Likewise, Arradir is somewhat surprised--pleasantly--at how quickly the fight ended. He also looks to the warbull with a concerned glance. Maybe having that along wasn't the wisest of decisions. And I'm not sure I want to go talking to it just yet...
Arradir only hacks into Gaius's body once after the man is already dead, and then he controls himself and breathes heavily for a moment. He draws his knife clean across the man's clothing, and then stows it in its sheath as he stands. "Well. Where to now?"
As Yngvild chops at Gaius with her axe, and Kresh sends the enemies toppling to the floor, Arradir lunges forward with a snarl. He leaps to kneel over the Imperial noble and plants his knife heavily into the man's gut, wrenching it to open his gullet. "That's for my dog, you bastard."
Arradir nods at the mention of guards, and readies his heavy knife in hand. The spear is a more powerful weapon, but clumsy in close quarters like this--the knife will do well, as it has so far.
Arradir isn't great with people, let alone children, so he leaves the girl to the others. He carefully places a hand on Ylva's head, and guides her with the rest of the group, keeping eyes and ears open for signs of danger.
Arradir sighs and grunts. "Stop whimpering, lass. We're not going to hurt you. Just... take us to the others, I suppose, and we'll take care of the rest." The man looks to his dog with concern, noting her sluggish movements and the tongue lolling from her mouth, the saliva thick. Of course, your father doesn't get off so easy.
"We were invited here for dinner and a rest. Then they acted suspicious, and poisoned my dog. Now this." Arradir gestures to the general scene, frowning all the while. "I don't know what's going on, and I don't like it. But how did you just get here?" He raises an eyebrow and taps his knife against its sheath. "I doubt I'd have missed a bull walking down the halls."
DM-Salsa and Yngvild: When Arradir makes noise as they attempt to sneak past, he swears under his breath and looks over. Yngvild tries to end things with the guards peacefully, to her credit, but then things take a turn south. With another breathed curse, the man draws his heavy knife and slashes in, and the blade slashes through the remaining guard's neck. With an almost practiced motion, he reaches forward to grab the man's body and ease it to the ground. Just as he slides the knife away, Arradir hears the click of the door and draws it again. Yngvild is the first to speak to the lady, but Arradir nods behind her, a dour scowl on his face. "Aye, I've had about enough mystery and surprise for one night. Out with it, girl."
For my part, I'm incredibly sorry that I just disappeared on this one--if it makes it any better (probably doesn't), it wasn't just this game; I haven't been able to get on the site at all for almost two weeks. Last week I went on a somewhat impromptu trip and didn't have time or wifi as much as I'd hoped, then over the weekend I was on a paintballing trip. The last couple days I just haven't had the energy to check in, which isn't much of a reason or excuse, but it is what it is. Like I said, I'm very sorry about not posting, and I saw your PM to check in with me, DM. I am interested in this game and would like to continue, and I'm definitely hoping to be better about regular posting.
And back. Before I post, DM, is there a way around these guards? That is to say, is their hallway the only way to keep moving, or does it branch off from the one Yngvild and I are in, meaning we could creep past?
Hey all, posting this in all my games to let people know I'll be away for a few days. My family is headed to camp later today, and I won't have Internet or my computer while I'm there. I should be back and posting Friday afternoon/evening (Eastern Time), but please push the game as needed, botting my character if you need to do so. Thanks!
DM-Salsa and Yngvild: Arradir hisses a curse under his breath as he notices Ylva's sluggishness, and he draws the long, heavy knife he keeps at his belt. "The food was drugged. At least what Ylva ate. This is no good."
When he hears the talking, Arradir holds up a hand and crouches low, sneaking up to the corner in hopes of perhaps getting an eye on the guards. He doesn't speak the Imperial tongue, never found need to learn it, but between everything else, he doesn't trust anything happening at this point. He looks to the woman beside him, silently asking what she thinks with his eyes.
DM-Salsa and Yngvild:
DM-Salsa and Yngvild: Perhaps oddly, considering how uncomfortable he's been throughout the evening, Arradir barely reacts to Yngvild's nudity. "Cold nights I can handle. Maybe even better than this." He glances up and down the hallway as the woman dresses, more to check for anyone else about than a sense of modesty. "What I can't handle is trouble around that I'm not aware of. Or at least the reason for it."
The man scratches his head and glances around again. "There's plenty rare around this place, seems like. Like a couple Norden guests, welcomed with open arms."
DM-Salsa and Yngvild: Arradir bids good night to Yngvild as well, and enters his room. The whispered conversation from earlier picks at his interest, though, and coupling that with the strangeness of this place... Arradir is far from paranoid by nature, but he's suspicious enough to want to check this out.
So some five minutes after they're led to the rooms, Arradir pokes his head back out and slips over to quietly knock on Yngvild's door. "There's something going on here. I heard the man earlier talk about some strangers out in the stable house. I was thinking I'd see who they are. Said they had a greybeard dwarf with them."
DM-Salsa and Yngvild: Arradir nods and accepts the invitation, and soon he's seated--again, somewhat uncomfortably--at the large table. He quickly begins scratching Ylva and feeding her bits of meat, more to soothe himself than the dog. Since the lad seems more focused on Yngvild, he lets her speak first if she likes, but he'll put forward his own comment if it seems like the silence is dragging on too long.
"Well, I can't say I've had too many 'adventures', as you put it. But I've lived out in the wilds most my life. I train animals by trade. Dogs and birds, mostly. Always had a knack with animals." The shaggy man pauses and rubs Ylva's head, then looks up. "Course, I suppose I could tell you 'bout the time some unfortunate bandits decided to try and rob me. Bit gruesome for mixed company, though, that one."
DM and Yngvild: Arradir nods at Yngvild's words. "Like she said. My thanks." The man can't help looking around the room again, and he scratches absently at his beard. "I had stew at the tavern, but something more would be appreciated. By Ylva, if not by me."
The skinwalker catches Yngvild's glance, and his eyebrows rise and fall in a moment. It's strange, sure. But not sure what we can do. Or what we should.
DM and Yngvild: Arradir is clearly uncomfortable on the carriage ride, although the presence of his hound--a great shaggy one, with her own pack accompanying--seems to keep him calm enough. He spends the ride mostly in silence, scratching the dog's head and neck.
Inside, he seems no less tense. He glances at Yngvild as it becomes apparent they're in the presence of Imperial nobility, and he does take some heart in seeing he isn't the only one put off by this development. "Arradir. Some call me Beastspeaker."
Arradir weighs the decision for a moment more, and raises an eyebrow. "How about a faithful hound? If that's alright, you certainly have a deal." Even if the woman declines, he heaves a breath and nods his agreement. Hard to pass up an offer like this, if only for the story to tell... whoever.
Arradir outright chokes on his soup, and he lets out a cough. Fortunately he's quick enough to keep from spraying the young woman with his meal, and he takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow before he turns his eyes on her. "Propriety ain't taught by the Empire these days?" The skinwalker maintains his stare for a few moments, and shakes his head with a snort of laughter. "If your friend is fine with it, I won't say no to a warm room. I'll even welcome the company. But I'm not one to intrude."
Arradir continues to keep to himself during this new exchange, but he listens in with some curiosity. It isn't often an Imperial girl so willingly--and brazenly--approaches a Norden, and her offer only further steps from the bounds of normality. Maybe times are finally changing, after all. The towns always progress before the outlier villages. Who knows? Maybe it's even become normal by now. The man chokes back a chuckle at the last thought, and spoons more stew into his mouth to mask the sound. Imperial and Norden mingling isn't normal yet. Keep your britches in place, Arradir. But as he takes another bite, his thoughts turn to the prospect of a warm bed and a solid roof. It might be a nice change of pace.
Arradir, for his part, is taking his meal as quietly as possible. Although he spends plenty of time in towns--not everyone is willing to come to an out of the way cottage to speak about training their hounds or birds--he doesn't like the crowded atmosphere, particularly of a tavern. But the food is good, the fire is warm, and usually there isn't much trouble. Of course, tonight is an exception to the last. He regards the exchange between the Imperials and the serving girl with a furrowed brow, and a low rumble rises in his throat, too quiet for anyone to hear. He sets his mug down just as the others step in, and things seem to diffuse quickly after that. With a grunt and a shake of his wild mane of hair, he returns to his meal. Maybe he'd be lucky and avoid trouble yet...
Hi, thanks for the invite! It's a bit of a surprise, since I didn't end up getting around to a fleshed out backstory, but welcome nonetheless. I'll get it down on "paper" as soon as I can, and I'm looking forward to things here.
Loup Blanc here with a mechanical submission in the alias. Backstory is to come, but while working on this I came up with another concept for a spear-wielding Norden elf hunter. If you think that may be a better fit, or you're willing to entertain two submissions, I'd be happy to write that up alongside or instead of this one. (I also know some people aren't a fan of characters with multiple companions, and I could see how it might get out of hand with ABP--just a concept I've had for some time and thought it could fit for this game.)
Arradir draws another arrow and fires at the troll he's already wounded, hoping to bring down the creature before it can recover.
Seeing one troll drop after the half-elf weaves some form of magic, Arradir continues to fire on the one he first shot, hoping to keep its attention drawn between himself and Garulf.
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