Balter Farshadow's page

Hey guys, sorry about the radio silence again. Unfortunately, I do have a spot of bad news.

I think it is long past time for Balter to fade into the background and for me to step away from this campaign. I'm sorry that this has to happen now, when we've finally reached the kingdom building aspect of this adventure path.

I would be lying if I said that this game did not have plenty of great moments. I'm very grateful that Bloodgargler has kept the game running, and that you guys have provided such compelling characters. But the truth is that my enthusiasm for this game evaporated a long time ago. I've been sticking with it stubbornly, hoping that inspiration would strike me. I've phoned in posts every now and then - nobody has ever really given me a hard time about it - but it just makes me feel guilty about not being able to give it my all.

That said, I like this group. I really want to try to stick it out in Serpent's Skull - I feel like I have a much easier time with Dereje than I do with Balter for some reason, though my post rate could obviously use some serious improvement.

Balter shrugs. "Can't argue with that."

As he reaches forward to fill his mug with more ale, he eyes the blueprints for the castle. "Might need another lavatory or two," he says jokingly, before turning more serious. "Who exactly would we expect an attack from? Dovan? More bandits?"

"No bedroom for me, thanks," Balter says after finally regathering his wits. A part of him has been dreading this moment for some time now. He looks to Vladimir and Marisol, cocking a half-grin. "Wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly good set of linens, yeah?"

Sorry about the radio silence on my part. I'll try to get a post up a little later on.

I would flip around Wildhome and Hope's Haven for the castle and city respectively, but I could go either way. I can't see Balter tearing himself apart over the matter though, so I'd happily cede to our Baron's decision. ;)

As far as Durielle goes... regrettably I don't chat with her player as often as I used to, so I can't say what is going on with any certainty.

I am partial to Kameland Castle for the Stag Fort, even though it's a tad generic. We could always just go with "Kamelot." ;P

I'm not sure whether Balter would be more annoyed or amused by having a city named after him! Hope's Haven and Perseverance both sound good to me, but I am open to other candidates.

I agree that we don't really need to rename any places.

As far as country names go, not sold on any of the suggestions just yet, though Fronterro sounds pretty good. Cobalsolimir looks like word salad. XD

On another topic, if I might be so bold to ask, is there a timetable in the AP for when we reach level 5?

"Well, we didn't exactly put up a sign saying we own the place," Balter reasons, scratching his chin. He didn't know what to make of the hut, but nothing he saw suggested that it wasn't handmade. "Let's just knock on the door and see who it is. Worst case scenario, we clobber them and ask questions later."

With the elk freed from its prison, Balter tries not to pay it much more mind. It simply wouldn't do to treat the wild animal as though it were a pet. And yet, every now and then when he believes no one is looking, he sneaks it a handful of feed.

When the others remark on the snow, the half-elf thinks back to some of his past winters. The longest ones were those that he spent in the wilds, alone. There were happier ones before those, but they felt so distant.

"Some hot cider sounds good right about now," Balter agrees, stubbornly waving away the nostalgic thoughts as though they were gnats. "And maybe something a little stronger, if we still have some lying around."

"What, you don't want to see about filling up this hole with dirt first?" Balter says with a slight smirk. All things considered, he does not seem particularly bothered by the massive time sink. In fact, he almost looks happy. "But yeah, camping out here sounds good to me."

Whoops, and you said so right there. :p

Balter lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Sit tight, Starshine," he says, looking over at Durielle, "This might take a while."

The ranger gives the giant elk another pat before climbing out of the pit, so that he can give Vlad a hand with the lumber.

Survival (Aided): 1d20 + 9 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 9 + 3 = 21

At the bottom of the pit, Balter circles the huge beast, holding out the rope length lamely. He cannot quite tell how heavy the elk is, let alone how much weight Nico's spell would be able to lift up. After a while he lowers the rope and sighs.

"There were some fallen trees up there, yeah? It'd take some real work, but I think we could make a ramp for this guy. Might have to camp nearby, but we could avoid traumatizing him."

Intelligence Check: 1d20 ⇒ 8
Survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

"Yeah, I'll be right down," Balter replies. The ranger quickly loops the coil of rope over his shoulder and starts to lower himself down the edge of the pit.

"As long as you don't drop it on us, I think it'll be fine. Might want to stay out of its way once it reaches the top, though."

Gonna take 10 on my Climb check for a 14. If that's not enough to make any progress, I'll go ahead and start rolling.

Being too heavy would just make it an invalid target for the spell, I believe. It would just fizzle and nothing would happen.

But there is a bigger problem. This isn't just a regular elk, it's a megaloceros, which means that an adult is well over a thousand pounds. This one is both young and emaciated, but if it was a stretch for a regular elk, then it might not be a possibility at all for this one.

"I know I had rope somewhere in here..." Balter mutters, digging through his pack. When his hand finds the coil he looks up, only to find that Durielle has opted for a more expedient approach.

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

Balter kneels down by the edge of the pit and takes a long, hard look at the rare and pitiable creature. He frowns deeply, regarding the pit with the same disdain he leveled towards the rusty beartraps. They were such cruel, unsporting tools. If the person responsible truly wanted to dispatch an elk or some other beat, they should have hunted it themself. As the others continue to discuss how to get the animal out of the pit, Balter

"Ni fyddwn yn achosi niwed i chi, anifail gwych," he says to the giant elk with a soothing tone, his tongue lacking any of the harshness it usually had when he speaks in Taldane. The animal would not understand him regardless of what language he spoke to it in, but it was more important to convey feeling than meaning. "Byddwch yn dawel, a'n galluogi i roi cymorth i chi."

I believe Nico mentioned using Welsh for Elven some time ago?

Wild Empathy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Looking slightly more disgruntled than he was with the bones five minutes ago, Balter nods to Vladimir a little too eagerly. "Yeah, no point in wasting any more time. Let's get out of here."

"Nice find. Anyone good at picking locks?" Balter asks, apparently more interested in the lockbox than in the grisly remains. He seems uncomfortable in the presence of the strange skeletons. "Worst case scenario, we could bash the thing open."

"Well, whoever they were... they had really big heads," Balter says bluntly, unable to come up with something more insightful. Looking up from the skeletons, he gestures at a spot in the direction of the ruined buildings. "That ridge there... it looks like they were using it for cover. Not that it did them much good."

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
BAB/Wis: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"Looks like there was a fire here, a long, long time ago," Balter observes, pointing out the blackened parts of the structure. Stepping over to the skeletons, he kneels down and frowns, looking for any traces of fatal injuries that haven't been worn away by time.

Aid Another: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20

"Not cold enough for any of this to stick for long. Our luck might hold out yet," Balter replies as he mounts up. "Worst case, we can just make a break for the fort and save the exploring for the thaw."

Resisting the urge to chase down the troublesome little fey, Balter settles for glowering at them and drawing an inch of cold iron from its sheath, which seems to do the trick.

Wow, that was awful. Did everyone make it through that disaster in one piece? :P

"I could do it this time," Balter volunteers, in the process of tugging his boots back on. "I'm already in tiptop shape and I don't need spells, so that shouldn't be a problem, yeah?"

"You could say that again," Balter remarks as he tugs off his own boots, a safe distance away from the others. As opposed to Marisol's surgical method, he simply claps their soles together repeatedly, sending mud and debris flying everywhere. He glances at the setting sun with a furrowed brow. "Hm. Won't be long till we're back at the Fort, at this rate."

"Well, the sun's out, so I guess going back to sleep is out of the question," Balter opines, stretching out his back in an exaggerated fashion. "Best we finish up in this swampland quickly. Shamblers are usually solitary, but they can pop up from out of nowhere if you're not careful."

"Godsforsaken shambler..." Balter mutters, poking through the pile of vines with his sword before returning it to its sheath. "Never thought we'd be on the receiving end of one's bedside manner."

Seeing that Vladimir is in trouble, Balter lets out a shout and assails the giant plant with a mighty swing of his longsword, following it up by a considerably less impressive offhand attack.

Longsword Attack (Inspired, Power Attack): 1d20 + 7 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 1 - 1 = 26
Critical Confirm?: 1d20 + 7 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (16) + 7 + 1 - 1 = 23
Damage (Inspired, Power Attack): 1d8 + 5 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 5 + 1 + 2 = 10
Critical Damage?: 1d8 + 5 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 1 + 2 = 16
Attack (Inspired, Power Attack): 1d20 + 7 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 1 - 1 = 12

Balter quirks a brow when the shambler drops Marisol, having an inkling about why it did so. Swords drawn, the half-elf runs across the camp, hopping past the fire and closing in on the plant monster. He comes to a stop alongside Vlad and brings his sword down.

Move to G11 and attack.

Knowledge (nature) DC 21: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Longsword Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Balter hops onto his feet and pulls his swords out of their sheaths.

Roused from his slumber, Balter sits upright and lets out a huge yawn. "What the hell is all the racket abou- Oh."

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

"Whatever you do, don't hit that thing with electricity," he says, throwing his blanket off himself. "And while you're at it, you might not want to bother with fire, either."

Balter stifles a yawn, tired out by burying a dead horse. Not that he had complained about it. He knew very little about unicorns, but he knew that they were deserving of his respect.

"Hopefully our necromancer friend doesn't decide to kill us in our sleep," he mumbles, having apparently decided that a dose of nightmare fuel is called for.

Accepting Vladimir's analysis, Balter relaxes, but only somewhat. "Yeah, you're right. Still, we shouldn't linger for too long."

"I don't like this one bit," Balter says warily, suddenly much more interested in the group's surroundings. "For all we know it could still be somewhere around here."

Balter tugs his hand away from the wound, his expression suddenly turning grim. "This is no horse. It's a unicorn. Or it was one, at least."

"Damn. Poor thing," Balter mutters as he crouches down beside the horse. He absentmindedly pokes at the rather prominent hole on its forehead. "Must not have been dead for very long. Not sure why anyone would kill a perfectly good horse, though."

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

"I have a bad feeling about this..." Balter utters, following Vladimir closely.

"That'd cover most of the northern Narlmarches," Balter remarks, tracing a finger along Vladimir's route. He nods approvingly, unable to find a more efficient path. "Not many more landmarks to speak of. Not that we have listed on here, at least. But we can always tackle the southern half later. I'm sure you're eager to get started at the Stag-whatever-we're-calling-it."

"Paying our respects is the least we could do," Balter says with a small shrug. "Better place than most to set up camp, in any case."

"Maybe there's some use for a place like this," Balter suggests with a shrug, before wrinkling his nose again. "No idea what might be, though. Any of you ever eat frog legs before? They taste like waterlogged chicken."

Balter wades through the pond towards the smaller frog, his nose still wrinkled on account of the odorous water. He slashes at the large amphibian with his longsword, eager to get back onto dry land as soon as possible.

Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Moving to G9 and attacking.

"Ah, hell," Balter utters before hurrying to Vlad's side, sliding both of his blades out of their sheaths.

Taking care not to accidentally hit his half-devoured comrade, the ranger sweeps at the giant amphibian's belly with his longsword.

Moving to H6 and attacking Big Frog.
Longsword Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

"See, what did I tell you? This is Frog Kingdom," Balter says as he poises himself for battle, making it clear that he was joking before.

"If his land encompasses this entire forest, then our first war will be with frog people," Balter remarks dryly, reaching for his swords. "So are we going to try being diplomatic?

"Maybe we'll find what's stinking up the river," Balter suggests, his nose wrinkled. "Call it wishful thinking."

Sounds good to me. Unless there is someplace in particular we are really itching to go, I am fine with covering ground in any sort of pattern.

"Are you trying to name a nation, or are you trying to name Vlad's firstborn?" Balter asks with a smirk.

Balter snorts at Nico's suggestion, before addressing Marisol's question.

"A way asides from abandoning these lands and never coming back?" he asks rhetorically, quirking one of his brows slightly. "They did drive off the last wave of colonists, after all."

Balter grimaces again, unconvinced. "I'm just saying. If someone dug up my grave just to take a peek at my bones, my ghost would be pretty pissed."

Balter blinks. "Wait, so now we are disturbing the ancient dead guy's slumber?"

Balter circles around the pile of stones, trying not to look too relieved that they are undisturbed. A tad twitchier than it has been over the past few days, one hand hovers near his sword. He lets out a dry chuckle at the repeated history lesson.

"Well, it falls within our charter. So if we're not planning on ransacking the place... we should make sure no one else does so, yeah?"