Balgrym One Hand's page

I have to bow out. Work has eaten all my available time and I haven't been able to contribute. My apologies.

Dayjob Roll - Craft(Weaponmaking): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Questionnaire submitted.

Dotting in.

Noting that I'm burning a survey boon for a replay with a different character.

I would be up for either Fallen Fortress or First Steps with Balgrym. I also have a number of other level 1 Standard characters who are available depending on the party need.

Why the humans have always looked down upon their ancestors, I have never understood. The strength of the dwarves derives from the continued growth of their understanding from a solid, proven core, and this can only be accomplished through the understanding, respect, and appreciation of the accomplishments of those who came before. Thus, their abandonment of the Azlanti, and the denial of their aquatic origins have always seemed folly.

Then I met one. In the shadows of Absalom, the Low Azlanti huddle in caves and try to maintain the glory of a dead god. At first, I thought this is veneration of that which came before, which would be plenty worthwhile, but it was presented in a manner that showed their insular, petty squabbling. From being unable to contain a necromancer in their own home but still believing the thing to do was to keep living there, to regular uses of the silent treatment, to a complete lack of defense of their own possessions, it became clear they are not revering a hero-god, but trying desperately to live in the shade of a dead tree that will grow no canopy.

And let's not forget the name calling.

It has become clear that humanity is no tree, depending on the old heartwood to strengthen the core.

It is more akin to duckweed.

Signed, Balgrym One Hand

"Report"?

I'm back from my business trip, and played catchup at work today.

Balgrym, slow as a dwarf, ambles forth and attempts to jump the river.

Acrobatics: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (3) - 5 = -2

...And he can't even get his feet off the ground and simply falls in. He attempts to swim:

Swim: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11

And... well, he doesn't drown.

"Curse these plants!" Balgrym calls out as he tries desperately to approach the battle through the thick weeds.

Double move, it looks like.

I'm going to be out of the country on business next week. I'll have internet connectivity, but I don't know what my schedule will be like. Bot me as necessary.

Balgrym reaches up to feel the new part in his eyebrows. "Eh. It'll grow back. Let's get back out there to Janira!"

Balgrym gathers his chakram and shrugs. "Well, that was pointless..." he grumbles.

He nods to Alexis. "Thank you for the healing."

Casually pulling out a chakram as he apporaches, he looks up at the mites and tosses the weapon at the one closest to him, saying with a sigh, "Ba chóir duit níos mó a fhoghlaim i ndáiríre mar gheall ar rásaí agus cultúir éagsúla."

Attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Balgrym stoicly finishes fording the river, letting the muck drip off his body.

Double move

Looking at the mites on the wall, he calls out, "Deir sé go bhfuil an áit seo ar úinéireacht ag íseal nach-duine. Dúirt sé freisin a fháil amach nó bás."

Knowledge(Nature, untrained, three beings): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Knowledge(Nature, untrained, snake thing): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Keeping a wary eye out, Balgrym heads out, starting to ford the stream.

Double move.

Balgrym narrows his eyes. "You heard the gillwoman. Let's go."

Balgrym shrugs. "There's still whatever lurks in the western cavern. I suppose that needs exterminating, too."

New goal: Design a one-handed bard whose non-hand is a theremin that doubles as a chainsaw.

I still have one regular hand, it's in my name, come on...

Balgrym rolls over and gets up. "I'll examine the body. It's not like I can get much more tainted."

After reading over the note, he comments, "This man did not shop smart..." and looks wistfully for a moment at his own missing hand.

Balgrym heaves after his extended bloodrage, expelling a foul black-green oily ichor from his gut. His horns shrink and disappear and his feet seem less like cloven hooves again.

He slumps over as the expectorate boils away in a greasy black smoke. "Just... give me a minute."

It's a good boon, too. I know just how I'm going to use it, too.

Twisting the tip of his horns out of the way of Hengist's swing,
Balgrym replies, "Aye, I've felt the same way, often."

Balgrym swings mightily against the zombie.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Damage: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Balgrym rushes forward to attack the green zombie.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Damage: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Agreed, I'd like to see what's still up before attacking.

Balgrym's axe flares with infernal fire as he responds to the new threat with anger from deep within. Horns once again sprout from his head and fangs extend.

He walks over to face one of the zombies and attacks, backing the swing with both hands... er, arms.

Attacking Blue: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
Damage+Hellfire: 1d10 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (7) + 6 + (5) = 18

Knowledge(religion): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Relying on his dwarven darkvision and not on the torchlight, Balgrym advances, ready to meet whatever challenge there is.

Balgrym calls out, "It's your cloak, Karayan. It's just like his. It might be his."

Balgrym stops, grumbles, looks at his companions, back down the tunnel, then with shame to Uori, and responds, "Fine, yes, diorama it is. Up you go."

He brusquely grabs Alexis and hoists her on his shoulders, then walks into the water for the diorama, fully expecting to have to hold his breath for a short while.

"Well, that's it, then," Balgrym bellows. "Time to go, everyone!"

Balgrym heads for the side passage to the west, and does not wait for the others to follow.

"Deadly things in the side passages? Sounds like something to investigate."

Balgrym shuffles shyly at the edge of the lake, but decides to put away his rope and grappling hook.

Balgrym waits and watches silently.

Grappling hook in one hand, axe being the other, Balgrym returns the bow.

Diplomacy (really not his forte!): 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (8) - 3 = 5

Uncaring about the room's illumination, Balgrym steps to the edge of the water and looks across via darkvision to see the details of the other side. He shrugs and pulls out his grappling hook, looking for suitable purchase on the far wall.

Balgrym shrugs. "Perhaps he's deaf."

Balgrym studies over the rubbings. "Very important. I need to remember to study these. I know there is more to myself..."

Knowledge(History): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

"I feel like I should recognize something here. I'm not sure what, though."

Balgrym studies the glyphs to see if he knows anything about them.

Knowledge(Arcana): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
Knowledge(History): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Balgrym nods. "No pen or paper here, but I would endavor to memorize these carvings. This will be important."

Swim: 1d20 + 2 - 3 ⇒ (14) + 2 - 3 = 13
Swim: 1d20 + 2 - 3 ⇒ (13) + 2 - 3 = 12

That should get me across. I don't think the water is flowing.

Balgrym grabs the rope and head down and over and up through the pit, showing considerable ability in handling the rope with one hand and the axe counterweight.

Climb: 1d20 + 6 - 3 ⇒ (3) + 6 - 3 = 6
Climb: 1d20 + 6 - 3 ⇒ (7) + 6 - 3 = 10

I see my luck with d20s continues.

Take 10 on a Knowledge(dungeoneering) check for the 10.

"I think 'Azlanti' is more of the insult to other humans than the 'Low.' The Azlanti were supposed to be perfect humans, so saying the underwater variety still holds onto more of this perfection bothers the surface dwellers."

Balgrym then takes one look at the pit and snorts. "Hmm, yes, I'd rather not fall in."

Watching Janira run off to distract the hulking man-beast, Balgrym replies, "Hmph. She must know what she's doing. That bottle was the most important item in the pack."

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Survival: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5

He snorts and ducks into the cave. Heading down without pause, he stops when he realizes Hengist lights a torch. The dwarf looks down at his fresh new lantern, suddenly realizing he had forgotten he brought it, but shakes his head and watches.

Hengist points out the tracks. Adding to the confusion, Balgrym replies, "They are the Low Azlanti, and it's near-criminal that humans don't acknowledge their ancestors."

You can leave Balgrym with the lint.

"No need," Balgrym offers. "I still have mushrooms left."

Balgrym drops to his knees, breathing heavily, and shivering. As he stands, his skin grows pale, his horns retract and disappear, and the dwarf he was before remains, panting.

"Fibbing is no issue," he wheezes between breaths. "We all have our secrets."

Balgrym never did smell precisely fresh, but the air around him takes on a sulfurous stench. He looks at the flea with fury and disgust, and he lets our a deep belching roar.

His skin turns reddish, fangs protrude, and a pair of horns sprout from his balding pate. His axe erupts in flame, and he strikes the flea with fury.

Rage, activate hellfire, attack.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
2-hand Damage+Hellflame: 1d10 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 6 + (5) = 16

If that drops the flea Balgrym turns and stalks the second flea, moving to close.

"Probably the Starstone or something."

Balgrym says little as everyone continues their march. Built for endurance, not speed, he does his best to maintain pace with everyone.