Arren Velmas's page

Oh it's not just you Helgar. I've been slower than you for longer. I got... busy recently. Robert Henry can speak to that, but it's not an excuse, and I've been especially neglectful to this game in the past. I'm not entirely sure why I've had trouble getting invested in this game. It's certainly not the other player's fault, and Mr. Clint has consistently provided excellent opportunities for both RP and combat, with extreme attention to detail. If I had one complaint, it would be that it's been about a year and we haven't leveled up at all. I get that different GM's have different styles for leveling and that it's my fault for playing a spontaneous caster with low combat efficacy, but I just find playing Arren at this level a bit of a slog. My debuffs are pitiful, my direct attacks are non-existent, and there is nothing I provide to the party that someone else doesn't also have, potentially even better than I do!

As respectfully as I can be my fault through inaction, no one else!at this point to both the players and the GM, I think it would be for the best if I stepped down from this game. I do hope that we can play together again sometime, although I completely understand if this experience has put you off.

I don't plan on dropping off the face of the Earth, and will be happy to provide posts as needed to either ease Arren out of the story, or not as desired. A stray crossbow bolt could easily be used to bring her out of the story.

I'm actually going to be visiting the Netherlands for the first time in a few months! I really look forward to seeing some of of the landscapes!

Arren nods, casting ghost sound again. DC 14 to disbelieve. There may be some circumstance bonus, or not as the GM decides.

How much lantern oil do we have? We could smoke them out. Not an idea Arren would put forth though

Arren stays at the door, covering if the enemies come out the bottom of the tower. She readies an action to cast ray of enfeeblement on anyone who comes out, and draws her crossbow, letting it hang loosely in her other hand.

"Goblins? No my friends. We are people, travelers if you will, seeking fame and fortune. We have no quarrel with you, lest you bring it on yourself. Shall we discuss this like civilized folk, or shall we keep posturing until one of us breaks this stalemate?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Casting ghost sound.

A whispering wind sighs across the courtyard, but it doesn't disturb the grass. The sound of 8(ish) armored individuals fills the area, weapons scraping. Yells, shouts, orders, but nothing quite understandable. More the impression of a small army, rather than a true auditory illusion of one.
Will Save DC 14 to disbelieve, although there may be an advantage since they can't see us.

Bluff to pretend to have quite a few more people than we do: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

"I'm afraid you've been surrounded. Please come out quietly, and we won't hurt you. We'd like to talk, but we will use force if we have to."

"That seems reasonable."

As good a reason as any for the NPC's to not be around when we get ambushed

"Thanks to Helgar I'm in good shape, and I still have a few spells left in me for today if we run into another fight."

"A blow like that would certainly cut me in half!"

"I must admit to having more than an idle curiosity myself Ewan!"

Well I'll be!

If only I knew brining ray... Or perhaps a pickling cantrip.

"Thank you Helgar." Arren smiles gratefully at the dwarf for healing her. She wasn't going to be the one to complain about her injuries, but they certainly would not have been fun to travel with!

"Nothing too bad as far as injuries go. A bit shaken though."

5ft canter away, ray of enfeeble MK II

To hit touch AC: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Str penalty, DC 15 fort for half: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Man, my ray of enfeeble kinda sucks huh?

"Don't worry about it Ivar, I just hope I didn't disturb your sleep too much! But yes, I did sleep well, thank you for asking. And yourself?"

Dice: 1d20 ⇒ 12

Dice:2: 1d6 ⇒ 4

It was meant to be a joke... oh well. Better luck next time I suppose.

For a minute when she entered the room, she thought Ivar was about to attack her. When he goes back to sleep, she realized that she'd been holding her breath. I suppose I'd be on edge too, sharing a room with a necromancer.

It was good to get a nice rest for once. Arren looks positively flush with life the next morning, which for most people would have been an unpleasant pallid shade. Not even the misunderstanding got her down, and she was even looking forward to getting back on the road. Today was a good day to be aliv-well whatever she is anyway. She bustles around the wagon, helping Ivar get things ready to go, and asks Ewan about his study session last night.

"Well they tell me I sleep like the dead," Arren says with a light smile. "I don't mind sharing a room."

Ewan made a friend!

Not very fond of turnips in real life, but I'm sure Arren wouldn't complain about them.

Arren watches the dancing, finding herself getting lost in it. Nempura seems so... vibrant so full of life... Her mind wanders as her stare intensifies. Nempura herself fades away, so does Hanrath. What's left in their place are two spirits, brighter and more beautiful than any she had seen before. Certainly a far cry from the cold, dead ones she usually interacted with. At this moment, it seemed like it would be so simple to reach out, and grab them, bring their essence to her. They'd probably be so warm...

Arren lets out a small yelp of pain as Hope stings her palm, her hand half outstretched. She was back in the Dancing Bear, and the people in front of her were just that again; people. She gulped at some ale.

I had misread hesitant to take it as took it hesitantly, my mistake!

"Thank you Ivar. What sort of soup is it?"

Arren will not lurk around Nempura. She's an adult, and can tae care of herself. Besides, if something went terribly wrong, Hope would let her know. She missed the comforting presence of her familiar though.

--

After such a soul bearing ride, Arren is a bit worn out. Still, the horses needed cleaning, and the stalls mucking. The smaller spirits were of great service here, making cleaning a breeze. Presti's clean function cleans a lot very quickly.

She found that she still wasn't very hungry after cleaning. She hadn't been very hungry in a long time. When was the last time I ate? Arren couldn't remember. Although she wanted nothing more than to go to a nice quiet room, she forced herself to go to the common room, albeit briefly, to get some food. No matter what she ate, it always tasted muted, like she had a cold.

Arren will not lurk around Nempura. She's an adult, and can tae care of herself. Besides, if something went terribly wrong, Hope would let her know. She missed the comforting presence of her familiar though.

--

After such a soul bearing ride, Arren is a bit worn out. Still, the horses needed cleaning, and the stalls mucking. The smaller spirits were of great service here, making cleaning a breeze. Presti's clean function cleans a lot very quickly.

She found that she still wasn't very hungry after cleaning. She hadn't been very hungry in a long time. When was the last time I ate? Arren couldn't remember. Although she wanted nothing more than to go to a nice quiet room, she forced herself to go to the common room, albeit briefly, to get some food. No matter what she ate, it always tasted muted, like she had a cold.

Knowledge Local: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11

Someday Hope will succeed at a knowledge check!

"I appreciate it Ewan. I found that taking the trappings of a mage reduce suspicions, but I had never found a learned wizard to examine me. I would love to work with you, to further both of our magical knowledges. I just worry that the spirits aren't strong enough." She smiles a sad smile at him. "A sword perhaps will let me slow vagabonds down."

Under no means should Arren actually engage in melee combat. An 8 strength is not conducive to fighting without weapon finesse. That being said, she'd like to help meat shield a little bit, should the need arise. Ray of enfeeblement is a great debuffing spell, but in terms of damage or area of effect, Arren doesn't have much to offer. In a few levels, absolutely! But right now, if the caravan is attacked, she wants to pull her weight.

Turning from Ivar to Meiron, "Well, I know I dress like a wizard, but I have no real training in magic I'm afraid. Everything I do is... a further manifestation of whatever is wrong with me. One day I just woke up, and... things just seemed to change." She seems to ponder the question more. "If I focus hard, I can see magic. I don't know how to describe it more than that. Hope can help me identify exactly what I am looking at. Dropping her voice so that no one except the two men around her might be able to hear her, she elaborates further. "I think it's spirits that listen to me. Dead things I mean. There's death everywhere. Not just spirits of people, but little ones too. Things that crawl in the dirt, birds in the air... They make noises for me when I ask. Lift light objects, make little things, stuff like that. Some of the angrier ones can make people cold, some of the ones that like me more will cluster around a person, and protect them from weapons, at least a little. If I let them, I can drain the energy from someone, their strength I mean." Her hands twist together as she says all this, not making eye contact with either of the men. Unconsciously she rubs at the spot on her arm where Hope usually lays. "If I'm being honest, they scare me. Even the nice ones scare me. But at the very edge of my perception are even angrier, more dangerous spirits. I'm sure that they would let me do more powerful, "magic," but I'm not sure that's something I want to be pushing for. Everytime the spirits become clearer, everything else gets a little more... dull."
Feel free to tell me DM that this isn't how Arren's magic works, I just felt a stroke of inspiration, and figured I'd write it.

You're not the only one Merion, I've also been falling off. Don't think it's just you, I also need to be trying harder.

"I'm afraid that whatever spells I can muster will be hardly enough to even slow down a werewolf." Arren looks downcast for a minute, as she further contemplates her uselessness in the party. Nempura seduced the shopkeep, Ewan and Ivar are powerful warriors, Helgar is blessed by her god, and a smith of some power, and Merion has this whole cloak and dagger thing down to a science. It was almost too much to bear.

"I won't be useless in the next fight. I can't be. Ivar, can you show me some basics on how to use a sword? I expect that even with my somewhat... lackluster physique, I could slow a werewolf down for a few seconds."

--
Turning to face Nempura after the man had left, "Are you ok with this? Is this what you want, or what you feel you have to do? And would you like one of us to tail you? If I leave Hope with you, he can let me know if you're in danger." The scorpion tattoo writhes and slides off of Arren's arm, finally coming to rest in her hand. The beady-black eyes of the creature glint in a surprisingly friendly way as it waves a pincer at Nempura. Arren holds Hope out to the bard.

Not a lot of fluid cash, even after selling the goods; we're going to need a real windfall before we can afford any real magic items. Maybe when we get to third I'll pick up Craft Wonderous, since we do seem to spend a bit of time on wagons and the like. I can sell my family heirloom if people want, if there's something important to get, but otherwise I'd like to hold onto it.

Arren watches the man cautiously. Obviously there was more to him than met the eye. Perhaps he was a mage of some sort himself, or possessed some wands to help guard himself. Regardless, it was no concern of hers. Lycanthropes on the other hand...

I tend to agree with Ivar and Ewan, not to mention that this town gives Arren the heebie-jeebies

"This is not a good place." Arren mutters in agreement with Ewan. "It's like a hornet's nest. Hopefully we can leave without putting our foot in it."

"A few silver isn't that bad. I can pay if if we need."

"Would you like some backup Ivar? I don't expect that anyone will pick on you, but if they do, it might be nice to have someone else around. If so, I'd take anything to eat that doesn't have meat in it."

Knowledge Local: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1 Poor sage familiar, some day you'll be allowed to know things.

"Why don't you like Longbridge Hank?"

Turning to Ivar, she nods. "Seems reasonable. I'm fine with going second."

Looks right!

I'd say keep it, a competent bowman is a wonderful thing. I always buy adaptive longbows on all my barbarians when I can afford it, even if I've invested nothing into archery feats. :) Although admittedly, a sling works almost as well.

"I could try, but I'm sure Nempura could strike a far better deal than I. Still, if she has more pressing issues to attend to, I'd love to accompany you."

"What did you dream?" The sorceress's usually quiet and non-confrontational manner was gone, replaced by an almost hissing intensity. "What did you see?"

Arren's smile lingers for a second, and then turns deadly serious. Holding out her hand for Ivar to shake, she says, "Deal. We will keep each other from becoming monsters together then Ivar." Her skin is the ambient temperature of the wagon, and her grip is soft, obviously physical strength was not her specialty. Taking a knife she had just cleaned from the pile, she slices a thin line across her palm, letting a drop of blood form. It oozes almost lazily down her hand and onto the dusty wagon bed. "There, a blood oath. I take those seriously, and don't make them lightly." Lightening the mood, she smiles again. "Thank you for the offer Ivar. I may remember that for the future."
===
"It seems that we've all had a very similar dream then. I wonder if the others did too, and what it could mean..." Despite the troubling nature of the shared dream, the fledgling necromancer seems almost relived about something.

Hanukah was a while ago I'm afraid, but I did buy myself a cool AD&D module as a research aid for a paper!

I'm so sorry! I have been traveling, and I made a post to the gameplay before catching up on the discussion. I'm very glad to hear your wife is doing well, and I hope that you have a refreshing well deserved vacation.

Smiling slightly, Arren says, "It's not that type of cold Ivar. Not the longing for summer on a cold winter day, but the desire to feel a pulse held by a dead woman walking."

"I do have several tattoos though! That is something that we have in common!"

==

Arren sleeps in the wagon, surrounded by the gear that she had been cleaning when she finally passes out. She had hoped that the work would prevent any bad dreams this evening. Obviously she was mistaken.
The sounds of twin thunks hitting the floor of the wagon brought her back to reality. Ivar and Ewan's voices broke the silence.
"I'm sorry! Did I cry out in my dream, and wake you two?"

Arren blushes a bit at Ivar's commentary. "Am I? I've been on the road for so long now. Was sill a little girl when I left. I've been so focused on the chill in my bones that I've barely noticed getting older." She looks down at her work, and says in a quiet voice. "I wasn't always able to do magic. It didn't used to be so bad. I was just pale and thin, instead of bleached and emaciated. And the longing. The terrible longing for the warmth of warm flesh... no, it didn't used to be this bad."

Seeming to look for a change of subject, she inquires further about Ivar. "My family didn't have any other children than me, what was it like to have siblings? Did you get along well?"

"You're a kind man Albin. Thank you." She takes the drink and sips it, it takes her the better part of an hour to drink the cup.
"Money is something that I struggle with as well. All of my spare coin is tied up in furtive gambits to lose this curse. I am not dead, but not all the way alive either..." She trails off for a second. [b]"You're right about the sweet wine. I lost the ability to taste sweet about a year ago. It's the little things that you miss."
...
"Do you not have any friends left over from your adventuring days? No contacts, no nothing? I hope that you will invite us to visit wherever you end up settling down then. Rest well, and get yourself a hot water bottle for your back. It'll do you wonders."

To Ivar: "Thank you, but my father could have done better. I was still just a journeyman, not a master by any means. I miss him and my mother dearly at times." She looks at the Norseman. "What about you Ivar? Do you have any family? A mother? A father? You seem popular with the ladies, Nempura at least seems rather fond of you, so perhaps any children of your own?"

I was planning on being up late after doing the washing

Scrub Scrub :)

"Hm? Oh Ivar!" She smiles. "I was just finishing up for the evening, got a little too wrapped up in my work. Honestly, I've got no idea where I'm going, I thought maybe I'd try and find a place to sleep that wasn't so... upscale, or maybe try to find someone else. But you seem to have found me! Where were you headed?"