*struggles to survive!*
Search Posts
My gran-ma-ma passed actually. So my summers a bit of a bummer so far. But, she did live eight and a half long decades. Gave the reaper one hell of a good run. And D3... good stuff man. Good stuff.
Ashad mutters an audibly curse as Kallit plummets from the tree. Wheeling quickly on the creature, the holy warrior does what he does best: desperately tries to charge the beast! "By Saerene's light, be cleansed wretched beast!"
Ashad turns a cautious eyes towards the desert behind them, "I sense nothing of evil intent near us... perhaps your feelings are wrong Dashki."
Picking a few thorns out from his armor, Ashad seemed slightly annoyed by the situation. "We've two trackers with us. Surely one of them will be skilled enough to calm the beast. I've the agility of a boulder in this armor..." With that, Ashad drew his shield from his back and began scanning the cacti patch for any signs of movement. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled outward, his heart reaching out to his goddess.
The paladin winces for a moment, before glancing back, making sure he's being followed by companions. Then he presses on...
Grunting softly to himself, he shrugs off the stinging cacti and Kallit's words in a similar manner. "This will be a long journey..." Drawing his shield, Ashad took a more careful approach, moving carefully through the cacti patch towards the noise, hampered by his heavy armoring.
Ashad raises a gauntleted hand. "Your logic is sound Kallit, but we may be pressed for time. Action is in order. Stand back, if attention is drawn, it shall be mine alone." With that, the paladin drew his cresent blade and set about the task of hacking his way through the cacti, making as much haste as possible. "Saerene perseve me."
He bows deeply to the laday, showing great respect. "It shall be done immediately." Stepping back out into the sun, Ashad glanced off into the direction of the tracks. "I believe we have more to beware out there than we think, and this Dashki character will be of very little help."
With a knowing glance to Alem, Ashad turned to the others. "Perhaps it is simply best to inform the Lady of what we know, and that we intend to follow these tracks so as to eliminate them, or capture the culprit if they are his tracks. I would perfer to quickly absolve this conversation and get on the with hunt. A strong wind could easily remove Hurom's find."
Ashad is about to speak, when Rashid rebuffs Garavel. The paladin couldn't help but nod in agreeance. "Indeed. Let us report to the Mistress so that we may be on with this unfortunate business."
Once Ashad reaches the middle of the camp, he clears his throat and announces loudly, "We've found tracks leading from the camp! This way." With that, the paladin motions back toward the direction he'd just left, trying to bring attention to the tracks Hurom had found.
The paladin grimaces, nodding in unison with Hurom. With a swift motion he moves his hand across the pommel of his sheath, untieing a small gold ribbon that had been fastened onto the crossguard. "Agreed. It seems this mystery may be solved out there, amongst the dunes. We will need the others if we are to venture far from camp." With that, he begins to head back towards the others, leading the way.
He nods in greeting to Hurom as he meets him. "Dashki has found some tracks made by small creatures he claims may have set the fire. They lead further out into the desert. Do you think you can follow them?" He motions towards where he'd left Dashki.
Nodding in gratitude to the crippled tracker, "Most appreaciated. I had suspected you to be a louse, but you've proven me wrong. I'll not ask you to go any further. Thank you for the assistance, Dashki." With that, Ashad makes his way back into the center of the camp, looking for Hurom.
With a placid expression, Ashad simply shrugged at Dashki. "Very well then. Now is your chance. I'll be more than happy to help you around and assist you in your search."
The paladin rubs his chin thoughtfully, ignoring the threats leveled at the cripple by Rashid. After a moment of organizing his thoughts, "If what you say is true. Wouldn't there be tracks left behind by these little creatures?"
Amen to that.
Glaring at the cripple as he spoke, Ashad thought to fetch lady Almah and have her deal with this resistant lout. But once he mentioned a Pugwampi, the paladin's curiosity was peeked. "A pugwampi? Now what in the abyss would that be?"
Nodding in agreement with Hurom, "Indeed. Perhaps you can show us the insides of your tent, while you tell us everything you saw just before and during the fire." Ashad stood firm, allowing his facial features to display a clear unwillingness to take no for an answer.
The paladin stood silently, listening to the man's story. It seemed a weak excuse at best. So Ashad focused hard on his words, trying his best to sort out any deception in his voice.
With a surprisingly calm demeanor, Ashad steps up to the gnarled fellow. Nodding to him, "I am Ashad al'Ahir, my compatriots and I have been charged by the mistress of this camp with questioning anyone that could have had something to do with the fire. She has granted us permission to question anyone we wish. A quick recount of your presence and actions during the crisis should be a reasonable request, no?" As Ashad speaks, he tries to take measure of the man, listening intently as he speaks. However, his words were not what Ashad was truly looking for. Focusing on the man, he attempted to use his divine gift to peer into his soul and see the taint they may exist therein.
Glancing back and forth between the three as they bickered, Ashad could only smirk as Kallit finished. "I do not think intimidation will be nessacery my friend", he spoke as he passed Kallit, moving towards the crippled man's tent. "We should begin before our suspects have time to prepare a story."
Ashad sighs slightly at Kallit's comment. This would be a long task indeed. "Speak to whomever you like. And I will provide insight into things your eyes cannot precieve."
Just a quick question, but I assume we've all had the chance to at least introduce ourselves to one another on the journey to Almah's camp?
The paladin eyes the card curiously for a long moment, searching the strange drawing on it's face. "Do you believe this has something to do with our current situation?"
After hearing Garavel's words, and watching Hurom walk away from the group, Ashad could only frown. "Through my devotion to Saerene, I can sense the depravity of someone's heart. I suggest that we question everyone together, that I may use this gift unhindered." With that, Ashad stands silently by the group awaiting their decision.
I was a bit worried about putting as much effort as I did in this character, with how PbP campaign's tend to fizzle out. But so far, it looks like everyones going to be amazing to play with. Huzzah!
Completely ignorant of the goings on of the camp around him, Ashad turned to the other mercenaries with a warm smile. For a moment there, I thought this infernal wagon was actually tethered to the ground!. Extending his hand to the mercenaries in greeting, "Ashad al'Ahir. Well met."
Rather ignorant of the goings on of the camp around him, Ashad turns cheerfully to the mercenaries as they clapped his back. Greeting them with a warm, if weary, smile Ashad nods. "Good job fellows. I'd honestly thought there for a moment, that infernal wagon was tethered directly to the ground!" With a further smile, his attempts to shake hands with each warrior in turn, "Ashad al'Ahir. Well met."
Seeing the flames have been dealt with, Ashad considers stopping to see what might have caused all this madness. Then he noticed the mercenaries were still intent to move the wagon away from the final embers of the fire. While not completely convinced of the use, he put his aching shoulder against the wagon one last time, giving all of what strength remained in a final attempt. "Heave fellows, HEAVE!"
Seeing the struggling mercenaries, Ashad does the only thing he can do. With a commanding shout he booms throughout the camp, "Help here! We need all the bodies we can muster!" With that, he tries once again to lead the effort to move this thrice-damned wagon.
With an acknowledging nod to the guardsmen, Ashad began to push with all his might. Through grinding teeth, he muttered a small prayer to his goddess as he gave it everything he had. "Oh most radiant and thrice-blessed Saerene, share with me your unyielding strength..."
Dropping from his mounted position with a solid thump, Ashad was moving before he even realised where he should be moving to. His hand instinctively wavering over his sword hilt, the paladin rushed into the camp headlong. Only when he reached the inferno did he give pause to consider what he should even be doing. "By the most radiant Saerene, my sword is worthless here. What should I..." And then he saw it. The four guardsmen, struggling to move a nearby wagon away from the flames. Ashad may not have been able to use his skills for combat, but he could at least put his swordarm to use in another way. With what seemed like a single fluid motion, he slammed his shoulder into the side of the wagon and began heaving with all his might to aid the guardsmen in moving the wagon to safety.
I'll be front-lining this affair it appears. Slashing and bashing my way through whatever decides it wants some paladin-kabobs.
Hah, my son just turned 14 months and he's a beast. 31 inches, 32 pounds of pure beast. Today he figured out how to open the fridge. Oh, my, god... I'm still cleaning up the mess.
Hey there everybody. I'll be swinging the mighty sword of Ashad al'Ahir, holy warrior of the most radiant Sarenrae. I'm just a simple man, living in the backwoods of Kentucky. I'm also a college student, having just returned after six years now that my wife has graduated as an RN. I've got plenty of time to post on most days save for friday (when I actually partake in a tabletop campaign). I've been dungeoneering for 12 years now, so the experience is there. I've just got to make the adjustment to PbP (this will be my fourth PbP campaign). However, I've got the feeling this one is going to be for the record books. Can't wait!
Thanks to everyone for the kind compliments! Even if I don't make the cut, you've given me some confidence to keep on trying.
After some careful consideration, I'd like to throw my concept into the hat for this. I absolutely love the look of the adventure path, and am quite proud of the concept I'm bringing to the table. With that said, I present for your viewing pleasure, Ashad al'Ahir holy warrior of Sarenrae. ps. Don't ravage it to badly! APPEARENCE Spoiler:
Ashad is a rugged young man, standing roughly five foot ten. Having inherited his father's olive skin tone and his mother's dusty brown hair, the paladin cuts a rather handsome image. Wearing that dusty hair down to the nap of his neck, Ashad keeps his facial hair cut into a neat thin trimming that lines his jawline and ends in a formal goatee'. Covered in light tan and darker brown studded leathers, draped across a simple breast plate, Ashad's tell-tale blue turban clearly marks him as a native. PERSONALITY Spoiler:
Ashad is a humble man. From brutal beginnings to holy conventions, he has kept his mother's first teaching to heart. "Live your life with kindness and honesty". Ashad always carries a warm smile upon his face, and an uplifting parable in his heart. He will strike up a conversation with anyone, from the poorest vagabond to the richest merchant prince. His kindness is truly worn upon his sleeve. However, when he is pressed into battle or confronted with those possessed of wicked hearts, Ashad is a fearsome opponent. He does, however, have a soft spot for women, and is reluctant to attack such opponents headon. BACKGROUND Spoiler: Born into slavery the man that would one day become Ashad al'Ahir had a bitter beginning. The son of a rich merchant and his slave mistress, Ashad would never know the luxuries his father's position could have afforded him. Forsaken by the merchant to avoid scandel, Ashad was left to be raised by his mother and the shackles of slavery.
For years the boy would waste away as a stableboy. Hidden from view by his suspicious master, the boy's only solace was found in his mother. A practioner of the Saerene faith, Ashad's mother instilled in him a strong sense of honesty and compassion. She used her faith to give her young son hope. Despite his harsh and bitter upbringing, Ashad would take these lessons to his grave. A decade of the slave whip saw to it that the young boy would grow into a strong and resilient young man. However with age came a change of apperance. Now, more than ever, Ashad began to resemble his father. The rich merchant, having married into royality, felt the pressures of what could happen if his infedilty was discovered. Driven by fear and greed, the merchant finally had his old mistress forever silenced. But despite all this, he couldn't bring himself to kill his own flesh and blood. So instead, he sold him to the next caravan leaving Katapesh. Ashad left the only home he'd ever known, not evening learning of his mother's death. Two weeks into their desert voyage, Ashad's life would change once more- with finality. On a clear and starry evening, not far from their destination, the slave caravan made camp. As most evenings go things seemed quiet enough, so shortly after sunset, Ashad found himself drifting into slumber from within his cage. When he awoke to the sounds of screaming and battle, he knew in his heart his old life was over. Gnolls from the Pale Mountain had decended upon the caravan, and was cleaving a bloody path through it's very heart. In the ensuing chaos, Ashad and numerous other slaves were released by their masters in hopes that they would provide enough of a distraction for the gnolls that they could make their escape. To his knowledge, Ashad was the only one to survive the night and reach open desert. For days he would wander, with nothing save the scarps of clothes on his back. Nearing his seventh day, Ashad's body had enough. Collapsing on the top of the highest dune in sight, Ashad simply stared up at the sun, muttering an old prayer his mother had taught him over and over. Shortly become blissful unconsciousness overtook him, he noticed a lone figure traversing the dunes heading straight for him. When next he awoke, the cool kiss of the night's breeze greeted him pleasently. Wrapped in a blanket and laying next to a fire, Ashad could smell cooking meat. Struggling to his knees, a firm hand from behind guided him back into onto his side. "Take ease now" the older voice croaked, "You'll need to rest if you are to survive the dunes". Glancing back, Ashad was greeted by the wrinkled smile of an older man covered in heavy armor and thick cloth. The symbol of Sarenrae hung from underneath his scarf, and when Ashad's eyes landed on the object, the old man smiled. "So tell me, where did you learn that prayer you were muttering?" As if the designs of fate had laid themselves bare in front of him, Ashad's life finally seemed to be coming full circle. His savior was a man named Herret al'Ahir. A holy warrior decided to the sun goddess Sarenrae, the very god Ashad's mother had taught him so much about in his youth. For long hours into the night they spoke of each other's shared faith. Pleased with his tale, Herret offered to take the young man with him, back to the temple he lived in. Herret had been on a pligramige of faith, and was returning to his cloister with what he deemed worthy results. Having nothing save the scars of slavery left to him, Ashad heartly agreed. Within the months to come, he would learn everything he possibly could about the goddess who's stories his mother had reered him on. At Herret's urging, he took up her mantle of faith, and began training in ernst. Ashad and Herret became steedfast companions. So much so, that Ashad chose to follow in Herret's own footsteps along the path of the paladin. Having Herret's sponsership, Ashad found himself flourshing in his studies. It was as if everything in his life had lead him to this point. Never had he felt so complete. By his twentith year, the church had deemed his tutelage complete. However, before Herret allow the church to bestow his holy knighthood, he had one last task in mind for Ashad. "For we, the enlightened few, a rebirth of sorts is nessacery to prove ourselves to our lady" Herret warned him. "As the sun births light into the world every day, so to must the faithful experience a rebirth into her light. This is a tradition I have found with the teachings of 'The Birth of Light and Truth'. You must now find your own meaning from this." To Ashad's surprise, Herret had returned him to his former home of Katapesh. "Here is where your story began, and it will be here that your true heart will shine, or falter" Herret warned him. "A man you may remember, has been found guilty of a devious crime. He may likely use his considerable wealth to escape proper punishment, but for now he resides within a dungeon cell. I know his jailer well, and have expended one of my owed favors to grant you an audience with this man. Ask him of his crime, and let your heart guide you from there." With that, Herret lead him to the susposed jail, where a collection of armored indivduals hurried them into the bowels of the building. Quickly, Ashad found himself thrust into a cell with a man stitched into his very memory. The rich merchant, who had once owned he and his mother, sat dispondantly in a corner of the cell. When their eyes met, Ashad knew what his test would be. "Tell me prisoner, what is your crime?" Ashad managed with as steady a voice as possible. "A fools crime, one I shall not be convicted of!" the merchant spat. Again he steeled his feelings "What is your crime" Ashad demanded, causing the merchant to shake with fear. "If you must know, I have been accused of killing a slave girl I once owned, years ago! One of my own servants, having been slighted, has leveled his alliegations against me! The tales of a drunkard!" the merchant chimed with an almost pleading tone. The pangs in Ashad's heart had already made him aware of the tale to be spun before him. Herret had known his past as intimately as Ashad could have told it. With almost stone cold certainty, Ashad knew that his mother's murderer sat before him. With a clarity he had never experienced before, he removed the scarf that had concealed his face and eased his scimitar from it's scabbard. The merchant's expression of utter horror was answer enough for Ashad. Herret watched on with muted interest as Ashad exited the cell. Wordlessly he strode past his mentor, a look of peaceful calm etched upon his face. Peering into the cell, the old merchant sat quivering in his corner, babbling his confession in hushed whispers for anyone to hear. When he exited the jail, Ashad had already mounted his steed, and waited motionless for his teacher. "I see you spared him, Ashad. But I must inquire as to why?" Herret asked. To his surprise, Ashad simply turned his steed towards the gates they'd used to enter Katapesh and replied "Let the healing light of the sun burn out his darkness within me. So that I may let my inner light be a guide for others, and a searing flame against unrepentant evil". With that, Ashad spurred his mount onward, leaving behind the last tethers of his life as a slave. Two years after that fateful night, on a peaceful summer eve, Herret al'Ahir passed away. In his will, he had call Ashad his son, and left all of his worldly possessions to him. After the burial ceremony, Ashad was approached by members of the church with Herret's final request of him. He had recently been charged with a task that would take him away from the cloister for some time. It was a task considered to be of great import to the clergy, and on his deathbed he begged his brethern to allow Ashad to complete the journey in his stead. Without so much as a second thought, Ashad nodded and spoke, "How could a son refuse his father? Send word of my acceptance. Tell them, Ashad al'Ahir is coming." |