Baladur Featherstone's page

Aye, a wee nip would go down good 'bout now. Besides, I hear Finik get ornery when he's sober. Harrrrrr!

Baladur strolls up casually to the captains side.
Great'ns Capt'um. Seems'a th' fire giants are'a hittin' it off well. He lightheartedly says, nodding to the tall red heads. They make strong work'n companions, but ay'd hate ta have ma' head that far up incase a' ever fell. Harrrrrrr!

With the endearing "small talk" between stout sized races out of the way, he moves in for some subtle investigating.

So. It be a' good thing ya'a do'n with th' water an' food. Ya help'n a lot o' people in need. Will we be'a pickin' up another run of fresh provisions on this trip?

Sense motive check 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20. Trying to see if he has an ulterior motive that just helping out the town.

Baladur immediately begins grabbing cargo and unloading the vessel.

The Featherstone clan is'a always happy ta'be do'n an honest day's work, captain!

If the confined spaces should force Baladur to accidentally run his foot into the resting Finik while hauling cargo, Baladur may not want to chance damaging the good to avoid it.

Perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Yes my good captain. The lot of us. And we are in haste!

If th' ferryman ties th' boat ta a tree, it'll stay. Same applies ta th' ferryman. Harrrrrrrharrrrr.

Baladur slows and walks backwards a moment. Never coming to a full stop on his way to the ferry.
See lads. The Elf is as wise as he is tall. Good! Thats settled.

He looks over everyones shoes a moment. None a'ya seem ta bee lame! Good. That means less a'talking and more a'walkin'.

Lead on Elannic. He marches forward again, speaking back over his shoulder. It's not the curs'ed river styx after all. What ferryman would not wish to help the loving hand of Torag. Then to himself. 'an if'n that fails, the mighty jackslap of Ragathiel should a'do th' trick.

Hmm. This ground is'o . . .um . . .what's tha' word. Damn, I wish I had'a studied geography in'ma schooling.

Well lads. If'n Dwarven construction is consistent, and ya bet your sweet arse it'is. Th' monastery will be'a near the river. I say we talk th't ferryman in'ta tak'n us there, then backtrack to th' other spots. It'll cut'a day off the journey, an' ever'a day we save is anotha' life!

Confident his declaration is argue proof, he jogs off toward the ferry.

This was lads . . . .

Well Finik, ya be the local expert, you tell us.

Then we go a' different rout. Th' kids a walking curse if'a ask me.

Aye. I'll grant ya that lad. I'll grant ya that.
He gives Finik a FIRM slap on the shoulder.
Lead on NikNak. There woods are your stomp'n grounds.

With a broad smile, the Dwarf cleric fall in line with the others.

Well be back as fast as feet can cary, Lady Laural.
He nods towards Finik.
There will be no dillying or dallying whyle people are suffering.

Survival 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (3) + 0 = 3

Not too familiar with this area. I'll hav'ta trust th' others instincts in these woods. 'Cept the drunk'n one.

Perking up at the sound of Dwarven medicines needed to help cure this ill.

Heal check for knowledge of this mushroom 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

Ack No. Ooh Lass, if'n only I'd 'a known, I would'a carried a crate of 'em on me bare back through the fires of hell ta get 'um here.

Baladur snickers as Titania ducks under the doorframe. Pointing with his left hand of healing at her forehead he whispers.
One day lassie. I'll be healing away a bump on yer noggin. Harrr.

Taking in the room and the healer.
Ye gods lass. May Torag have mercy. When was the last time ya had a wee rest. Let's get ta helping lads. These people wont survive much longer.

The cleric jumps in to help sort out the books and ingredients list.

by Torag's balls, I swear this blachscour shall be me enemy. T'is it affected et all by divine healing? I wish ta off Torag's left hand ah healing ta ya if it does.

Baladur moves near the Sherriff preparing to cast cure light wounds.

I assume it's not that easy, or they would not need us in the capacity he describes.

Baladur addresses the new arrives using his best practiced clergy voice.
Laddie, Torag always says. If'n ya gona arrive from the tabernacle, ya should aught'a bring a wee nip fur everyone.

Baladur whispers up at his new human friend.
Were we called ta hep arrest this drunk? He seems'ta to peacfull 'nuff. Humph.

"Actually, I'm a little above average for my people.

And you also have some good weapons."

Aye lass. I've been told I'm a bit above average size by your people as well. wink HarrrrHarrrrr. A small tear glistnes in the corner of the dwarfs soft stone blue eyes as he laughs and enjoys life.

Seriously my over heightend lass. I'll be able to heal any head bumps you get from low thresholds. Twoud be a shame to scar a face so lovely. For a human.
for a human. Harrr harrrrrr .

Enough pleasantries. Am I being charged with a crime or not. I swear I use those herbs for religious purposes only.

By Torag's boots lassy, you be a big'un. Says the four foot two inch Dwarf craining his next to view the lovley well armed lady.
But ah say, ya got guud tast in weapons. HarrrHarrrr.

Hrmmm. Seem some'on in this town is in need o' the healing touches of Torag. Judging by the looks o' you two, it may be vengeance of Ragathiel that's be'n called for. With any luck, it be both. HarrrHarrrHarrrr!
Names Baladur of clan Featherstone.

My soul is boud to the wanderlust, traveling the lands to bring the peacefuill healing of Torag and the ritchous vengeance of Ragathiel to all who deserve them.

Baladur Featherstone 'ere. Me good friend Mathpro was a drink'n wit my good friend Iron-Dice, who was drink'n wit me. An anyways, he says I should show up hereabouts ta get some work, save some souls and kick some arse. Sounds like fun ta me! But I might be a'changing the order a wee bit. Harrrrrrrrr.