"Fine. Fine! I'll water it down fer the lad!" the dwarf says as he caves to the pressure, though he grumbles something about Cayden's forgiveness as he fixes the drink.
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Brask brightens as he hears his native tongue, and smile as he answers the young woman. Dwarvern: "Not to toot my own horn, but I'd recommend the house. Been told it's the best almost anywhere and had a priest of Cayden needle me for the recipe for a year straight."
The tavern goes deathly quiet as patrons instinctively clear the area around Barnabas. "Oh you've done it now." one of the serving girls says. Brask looks at Barnabas as if he had grown a second head and had declared his love for all goblin kind and was going to be sacrificing puppies and kittens out back in an hour if anyone wanted to join him. "What did you just ask for?" Brask asks in a cold, quiet, and quite deadly voice.
"Never thought I'd say this, but no more tea fer Mr. Jumpy thar." The gathering crowd can here Brask say.
the dwarf looks at Zeverin for a second just before he burst into a deep rumbling laugh. It last for a few moments until he sees that the half-orc isn't laughing, or even smiling. "Well, least ye didnae ask fer water. Emira could have some tea done fer ye in a bit, but it'll be a li'l more'n ye normally pay. Ye fine wit' that?"
"That's what I thought ye said." The dwarf grumbles before fixing a frothing tankard of the house special.
"One bottle o' Red Dawg." He mutters something about addicts and horse piss, but it's a little hard to make out.
The dwarf snorts at Barnabas' question. "An' ye thought a tavern full o' ol' salts and too eager greenhorns was a good place ta look fer tha wee lass? Ye can ask, but I doubt ye'll find what ye be lookin' fer. The name's Brask, if ye need anything, jus' holler."
"Ale an' stew, comin' up. That'll be seven coppers." The dwarf moves with brutal efficiency, and before more than a few moments had passed, a tankard of frothy ale and a steaming bowl of stew are placed on the bar in front of Leoros. "If ye need anythin', jus' holler." He says before movng on the next patron. The stew is quite good and the ale even more so. It seems that the crowd, while rough, and probably not that nice, is devoid of larcenous intent.
The dwarf looks at Whisper as if a goblin had just waltzed into his tavern and made off with all of the finest ales, beers, and liquors. "Ye mind tellin' me what ye want again? I don't think I heard ye right the first time."
Or axes, laddie. Ne'er un'erestimate what a dwarf ken do with a good sharp axe.
"Laddie, it'd take an orc horde ta get in here if I didn't want 'em too. Tha kiddos will be fine." Brask smiles easy. Anyone who had been looking at how the place was built could easily see that this was no idle boast. The timbers the Dwarf's Axe was made of were thick stout ones.
"Well then, ye'll be wantin' ta come with me." Brask waves Russwin over to where he was standing.
"Right now, they stay put. The whole damn city's in an uproar, and tha Hellknights are crushin' anyone they can find that looks like they might even be thinkin' o' trouble." Brask reappears in the doorway to the kitchen. His eyes fall on Raseri. "Ye said ye can cook? Woss yer name lass?" "Raseri Whitescale." "See what you can whip up fer lunch. We got fifteen workers, almost thirty kids, and the seven o' ye. Ye do good an' ye gotta job." He turns towards Tusilak and marches over. The grief form last night almost forgotten. His grey eyes gleam as he comes to a stop. "I need ye ta bring anythin' yer sellin' an' come with me. I got someone I'd like ye ta meet. " Loot list: Cash: 0gp 100sp 200cp
2x Studded Leather
1X crystalline vial (Worth 50gp) containing a dose of silversheen - 300gp total
Unidentified Loot:
Please let me know what you're selling and keeping.
Russwin looks around, asking about Mara. Most of the younger kids shy away, and the older ones look as if they were about to confess some sin. Mara is nowhere to be found. "M-mister? Lamm took Mara. W-we don't know where, but he took an' came back with small pouch of coins." one of the children that appears to be the same age as Mara pipes up, Tusilak recognizes him as the one that told them where Lamm's thugs had taken Cataree, Raina, Sev, and Sig. Those who are paying attention to Brask notice him turning around, a look of shock on his face. One that was quickly replaced by an anger that had both Kin and Ijreka exchanging uneasy glances. Moments later a chair shatters against one of the walls.
Fire roils in his eyes. He turns his gaze across the room, before noticing the children cowering in fear. His anger swiftly recedes, his eyes falling to the floor. "Oi. Sorry, me temper gets tha best o' me sometimes." He walks over to Russwin and puts a large, calloused hand on the man's arm. "I 'ave some connections in this city, if she's alive we'll find 'er. Tell me everythin' ye know. How she looks, acts, anythin' that might be different about her?"
Brask grumbles to himself and begins gently ushering everyone inside. "Russ-woz-hiz-name has tha right o' it. Seems like the whole city's gone goblin-mad." As if to punctuate the dwarf's words. A bright flash lights the bottom of the clouds followed by a peal of thunder a few seconds later. Smoke rises from several points in the city and the clang of steel rings out into the grim morning air. Rain begins to fall as he closes the door and bars it again. "Ye'd better be bringin' a horde of orcs ta get inta here laddie, but no harm done." Kin and Ijreka tend to the kids while the barmaid that pointed out Halvara last night unloads a tray piled with sandwiches and wooden cups onto a nearby table. As soon as the blonde woman comes out from behind Kishta, twin cries of "RAS!" ring out and two blonde girls with the same ice-blue eyes and silver-blonde hair rush out and tackle her in a fit of tears and laughter.
"Bloody 'ells! Get tha kids back. If ye know how ta fight get up here now!"
The mob is still a little bit away when Pasiune runs into the door and bounces off of it. Their laughter turns to cheers, then confusion as Russwin rushes through them, weapon in hand, and rushes the door. While he connected more solidly, the door refuses to open. The people in the crowd jeer and holler as they move in and trap Russwin and Pasiune between them and the warehouse. Suddenly the door flies open and a burly dwarf wielding a stout axe steps out and in front of the two.
Kishta: You and your "friend" come to the back of a crowd that chased a woman to the front door of the tavern. You hear what sounds like a curse in a tongue you're not familiar with from behind you.
"Well, do we help or hide?"
Cataree and the other children sleep soundly through the night, and well after dawn. Talliree falls asleep not too long after waking Raina. The gnome looks like she could almost pass for one of the children. Almost. A little over an hour after taking the watch, dawn begins to break and Brask can be seen tiptoeing around the forms of the sleeping children. "Thought ye could use somethin' ta warm ye up." The dwarf hands Raina a mug full of a warm, sweet, and strong drink. "What are ye gonna do after ye get that gaggle o' kids squared away?"
With that, Brask leads you back to the common room before taking Nora and Balthazar to some spare rooms for the night.
Ralli's voice is quiet, and she looks embarrassed after seeing you pale like that. The rest of the time gathering clothing and bandages, she's silent.
"I could kill 'im a thousand times o'er." He growls as he walks closer to the fireplace. "I could rip 'is life from 'im inch by bloody inch, and it would do nothing to bring me Lania back." He tosses the head into the fire, defeat hunches his shoulders, but his eyes are a little brighter. He walks over to the table and pours another shot of brandy. He looks from the bottle to the glass before taking a long pull from the bottle. "Most folks won't go looking fer things stolen from 'em. Fruitless waste o' time most days. By tha time ye catch tha thief, the ratty bastard has sold it already. I ken ask around a bit if yer willin' ta wait a day an' show me what ye have." The dwarf sighs, his spirit dampened by the turn of events. "Tha pretty boy's right Shoanti. Fer every grain of truth there's a mess o' lies, unless you know who ta talk to. I ken find out fer ye. Ye've done me some good, killin' that bastard. I ain't one ta ferget that."
Ralli pulls Raina aside and asks her to help fetch fresh clothes for the children, and bandages for Alfsigr and Cataree. Once out of ear-shot she asks the young Shoanti woman, "How did you find him? Lamm, I mean. Brask has contacts over most of the city and we still never got a whiff."
"Aye, but that won't bring me girl back. Killin' Lamm won't undo tha harm he and his have done." Brask looks up, his face looking haggard and old. "What could be done has, Shoanti. If ye want to help, guard tha livin'." He downs the brandy in his glass in a single gulp before standing and walking over to Nora. "Tha devil-spawn told me that ye had Lamm's head. I want it."
Brask walks over to the sturdy chest at the foot of the bed and rummages around a bit. He pulls out four sacks of coins, tossing them to Nora, Balthazar, Tusilak, and Aerodus. in his other hand is a bottle of dwarven brandy and a glass. "Those are fer ye. fifty platinum coins each." The fire is gone, leaving behind a solemn, grieving husk. He walks over to the table and chairs tucked away in a corner, sets the glass down and pours himself a shot. "Her name was Lania. They found her body broken and naked in an alleyway just a few blocks from here." The fiery dwarf falls silent, staring into the amber liquid glimmering in the glass. His gray eyes are hollow and dim. He just sits there, letting the world slip past. He just lets his words hang in the air and seep in.
Brask and Kin stop halfway through the door. Kin sighs and moves out of the way. Brask nods and marches out. Aerodus, Tusilak, Balthazar, and Nora see Brask march out of the room. His eyes full of fire. He stops just inches away and whispers in a low, rumble. "Ye lot with me. I need ta talk ta ye."
Brask leads them into the back rooms, down a flight of stairs and into a room that looks like a ulfen's den. "Tell me e'erythin'. I wanna know why ye two were after Lamm." He says pointing to Aerodus and Tusilak
"Ye mean tha bastard's dead? Where's his head? I wanna put it on a pike."
Kin glares at the dwarf a moment before scolding him. "I think we have other things to worry about, Brask. We have two wounded people here, and a horde of children to take care of. I think the planting of heads on pikes can wait until we have addressed those concerns first." Brask returns the glare, seeming to tower over the taller woman. "Bah, they ain't dead, an' Ralli's fetchin' them some medicine. If I want ta put that damned man's head on a pie I'm gonna do it when I damn well please!" Ralli opens the door at that moment, her freckles almost invisible against the color in her cheeks. "Sorry Kin. I tried to find them as quick as I could, but these are the last two." "That is fine. Give them a bottle each and make sure they drink all of it. Brask and I have some things to discuss." With that, the dwarf and the half-elf leave the three of you in the storeroom-turned-office.
Ralli leaves to fetch the bottles Kin asked for as she begins looking over Raina's wounds once more. She opens her mouth with a scowl on her face, but the mention of Lamm's name causes her to leave her mouth agape in shock. "Ye mean that all o' 'em brats out thar are from Lamm?" Brask asks to break the silence.
"Somethin's brewin'. Somethin' ugly like an orc's pimply arse." The tavern is almost empty. Brask looks out one of the windows, into the gloom of the night while a few of the girls are busy cleaning up the large room and some young men roll kegs from the cellar. "Ach, yer back. Glad ta see--" Brask notices Nora and Balthazar first, then he sees Raina and Sev, before laying ever-widening eyes on the gaggle of children in tow. "Where'd all 'em come from?! Ijkera, Taddimee, Glorianna, get some o' tha spare blankets and rolls. Wake some o' the others if ye have to. Lara, Megan, and Yvonna, see if we've got anything hot in the kitchen. Poor things look half-straved. Ralli, grab Kin and bring her here, tell her I said it was urgent. Tomas, I need you to build a fire and heat water for a bath. A whole mess of baths." Brask begins moving tables, chairs, and benches out of the way as he rattles off orders. The remaining lads help and in a few minutes, the impromptu bunk room was nearing ready. Brask grabs Raina and Sev, guiding them to a store room with a simple desk and a couple of empty kegs acting as chairs, and a whole stack of whiskey barrels behind the desk. A half-elf with Tien features and a young human girl with fiery hair and freckles come in a moment later. "Hold still." The half-elf says. Her fingers brushing their wounds. A minute later she turns to the girl. "Bring me two bottles with the purple wax around the stoppers. Hurry."
Aerodus sees Brask getting red, well, redder, in the face. He's obviously pissed off at Halvara. Balthazar and Nora:
I'm going to assume you two are regulars here (well, I already did.) You don't know exactly what's going on, but there's obviously some bad blood between the Dwarven Axe and Eel's End. Halvara is the well known and respected Madame of the House of Clouds at Eel's End. There is a rumor that surfaces every now and then about the two of them were lovers, but anyone who voices it in the Dwarve's Axe has been taken to Brask's "office" and a word is never said afterwards. Another rumor, and one that no one dares mention in front of the volatile dwarf is that one of the girls that Brask had taken in off the streets, which happens quite often, had been killed after she had caught Halvara's eye as a potential protege. When she refused, Halvara flew into a rage that got her nothing but a good toss out the door. Later the girl was found dead in an alleyway after she had gone to place some orders at the market.
There was little love lost between Brask and Eel's End before the slaying, even though the dwarf was providing a good bit of the finer brews for the establishment. After some hints from Havlara that she had gotten the owner and operator of Eel's End, the enigmatic Devargo Barvasi, to arrange for an "accident," to occur, Brask fulfilled the remainder of his then current contract by delivering over 100 gallons of ale and beer to the pier a week later. He left before he could be paid, saying only that no one from Eel's End was to ever set foot in the Dwarve's Axe ever again. Havlara has shown up several times since, pressuring Brask to do business with Eel's End again. Each time has left the dwarf more irate than the last. Those that run the different attractions at Eel's End are not the only ones that have drawn the Brask's ire over the episode. Shortly after her death, Gaedren Lamm's name floated up as the one who may have done the dirty work. Brask knew that guard wouldn't or couldn't do anything, so he took matters into his own hands. Patrons of the tavern are offered free drinks and rooms in exchange for escorting his employees to and from the market to keep them safe, even though most never take him up on the offer. There are also whispers that anyone that brings Lamm to Brask dead or alive gets a room and all he can drink for free until he dies and 500 crowns.
Aerodus:
You see that most of the patrons are happily buzzed, in possession of coin aplenty, and very well armed. You also notice that Brask's muscles are thick, corded, and well-used. "Almost, ye get me a cook worth a damn and then I'll 'ave e'erthing a man needs." The dwarf laughs for a moment before noticing Aerodus' gaze. "Oh, 'er? Nah, if ye want a lovely ta warm yer sheets, ye need a different one. She only cares aboot coin an' work." After Tusilak says something, he appears thoughtful, then grabs the two men by the fronts of their shirts and brings them in close. Sweat, ale, and whiskey all threaten to overpower the senses. "A'ight, ye want to 'ire 'er fer a job. I don't like tha looks o' ye, boot I 'ave a feelin'. She's from Cheliax, I know that mooch, but don't bring that oop unless ye wanna be havin' soup fer all yer meals. See tha man thar?" He points to a heavy looking man with a greatsword on his back. "He's 'boot as smart as sumthin' sired by an orc with a goblin an' got nuttin' boot stoo-ped from tha both o' them, but he'll go along with whatever She does. Poor lad." He let's them go before turning to a comely barmaid and whistles her over. "A couple o' ales fer tha lads here, an' maybe see about some sweet company fer 'em as well." "Aye. Oh, an' Madame Halvara wants to talk to you." The young woman points a fist full of empty tankards at a well dressed, and irate, half-elf. Currently two other girls, a pretty halfling that's about in tears and a striking half-orc who looks about ready to throw the woman through a window. "Aw Hells. Gotta get this broken up afore that damned pointy-eared b!@*@ pushes Ijkera too far." With that he hurries over to the scene in progress, leaving the two men to their own devices.
"That thar was a dumb move. Ye lost fair an' square. Iffen it'd been me, I'd've thrown your dmub arse out on tha street. OUT! I don't tol-lar-ate theivin'." A brusque dwarf walks out from behind the bar points with the titular axe towards the door. After the man and a few others roughly shove past Aerodus and Tusilak, he turns to the newcomers and plasters a big greedy smile on his face. "Welcome ta tha Dwarve's Axe, mates! Fergive tha bad impression, but I tol-lar-ate no theivin' in har. Ale, wenches, an' muscle are yer's iffen ye got tha coin. Other than that, no killin' an' no theivin'." He glares at the two men, his grey eyes showing as little remorse as a vicious winter storm. After a second, he smiles and booms across the tavern. "What'll be lads? Ale, Whiskey, or Whores!" And with that the tavern erupts into a chorus of hearty cheers, off-key, but lively music, and a bawdy song about some lass and her corset. Aerodus: You've heard rumors of this place. It's not as well known as Eel's End and it certainly isn't as "posh," but the gruff inn/bar keeper pays his taxes and keeps things from getting too bad, but about every three months or so, the guard has had to break up a brawl, and more often than not Brask Alpsbane is in the middle of it. Despite the violence that takes place here, there haven't been any murders or "accidental" deaths, even in the face of the rumored attempts by the Arkonas.
"Now 'On, wut 'ave I tol' ye aboot singin'. It ain't proper-loike. Wit' all o' tha boirds an' tha furry li'l things runnin' aroound."
A goblin? An' a orc?! Whut in tha name o' tha pimpled arse o' Gorum is goin' on here! A dwarf that looks like he's been through more fights in the past year than most people get into in twenty or thirty uses his eyes to bore holes into the half-orc and the goblin over his third tankard of mead. I kin take 'em.
Good luck, and happy hunting.
"Nae laddie, or is it lassy? Kind o' hard ta tell when all o' tha men look like wimmin. Anyway, they give ye a shirt that says 'I wint doon tha well' oon tha froont an' 'as a bloody mess o' daggers coomin' outta tha back." The surly dwarf that looked like he'd been in far too many fights took another pull from the mug and grimaced. "OI! Barkeep! Who replaced yer ale wit' goblin piss? It'd pro'lly taste better ta drink me oown."
Sounds like fun. :D
Well, as promised, here's Brask. Brask has the features and build of a dwarven prize fighter. A broken nose, a body like a stone pillar, and enough hair and beard to hide everything but his nose and perpetual glare. To say he's ugly as sin is a gross insult to sin. While he looks like he's just half-a-word from pummeling someone into a meaty mush, he is actually much closer than that. He gleefully throws himself into any kind of fight at the merest hint that somewhere there is a hat about to drop. To that he's as mean as snake is severe misuse of the simile Brask makes mean look saintly, grouchy positively jovial, and gives the phrase "anger issues" a good image. In short, to properly describe Brask's personality would leave the english language twisted into a pretzel with bones sticking out at odd angles and whimpering in what ever is past white-hot agony with a side of blinding pain and shear, stark-raving mad terror. Brask has often been accused of being sired by various animals known for their ferocity and tempers. Grizzlies, badgers, wolverines, and the rare Foobarquix's carnivorous dustbunny have all been named potential candidates. Naturally this done by dwarves who have never meet Brask's mother, or Brask himself. Those who have agree to a dwarf that it's most likely that all of the above contributed to his gene pool and perhaps even some demon or devil decided to donate as well. Though it is considered unwise to speculate about this within a hundred leagues of the ill-tempered dwarf. His effect on structured dwarven society was like that of a cage match between a grizzly, a bunyip, and a pack of pissed wolverines in a small china shop filled with bottles of alchemist's fire. He was politely asked to leave by way of the river a few years after reaching adulthood. From there, he bounced from place to place, cutting a drunken swath of mayhem in his wake. After a while he caught wind of a dungeon that held creatures that were so vile, so nasty, that they defied description. "Finally! A Challenge!" he was said to have shouted and made a mostly straight line for this legendary place. Seriously, I don't have a clue, maybe Talant'edhel's original build. Maybe something new. I'd have to see at the time.
"Whoa lad, I dannae just go around kissin' wimmins laek this! Ah need tae get ready fer that." Brask orders and downs two jugs of ale faster than should be mortally possible. The alcohol seems to have little effect on him, as he's not even tipsy. Although he does release a thunderous belch. "Naoo I'm ready."
Another random girl finds herself the subject of a sloppy, wet, whiskery, dwarven kiss.
"Mmm, Depends oon how droonk they are, how droonk Ah am, and how mooch they like me."
"hmm, need to learn a spell to calm emotions. those two are going to be trouble." "I'm tha definition o' calm ye pointy-eared bastard! Could I dae this if I wasn't?"
The dwarf reaches out, grabbing the closest thing that was female and not goblinoid. With surprising strength, he pulls her into a long wet kiss before letting her go.
"Oi! Who're ye callin' a wil' car'? I'll gnaw yer kneecaps off!" The frothing at the mouth dwarf Starts to charge forward, but then notices the the pink haired gnome he'd been grouped with. "An' why did ye pair me wit' a gnome?! She don't look like much o' a fighter."
Oh not a problem at all. Still going to Dump Charisma though. Too funny not to. :)
Finally! An opportunity to play that one classic idea that couldn't really find expression until now! Thank ye. This is actually Brask's second incarnation. The first went a little looney in GM Tribute's other game. (Roleplayed him into a corner) So I'm bringing him back to hopefully stomp around Greyhawk a bit. (Those poor elves.)
*Looks at alias list.* Huh, the only one on here that could come close to the Woobie is NE...
Background and other stuff. Nothing setting specific, besides one offhand reference to Desna, since I'm not as familiar with Greyhawk deities. Enjoy. Brask's story:
"Wot was that aboot me mum?!"
The dwarf was not nearly as burly as his kin, but he more than made up for it by being the quickest to start a fight. Regulars at the Squatting Dragon knew better than to insult the ranger. Unfortunately the elven wizard was part of an adventuring party that was just in town. At that moment you could tell the regulars from the new-in-towns. They reached for helms and caps, anythign to cover their heads before hiding under the table. "I am sorry, but your mother must have begat you with an orc. There is no way that you--"
"OH GODS WHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYY!" And so began the monthly brawl. Truth be told, it's much more likely that Brask's mother bedded a dire wolverine to begat the ferocious dwarf. He grew up outside of normal dwarven society and as a result, never really got the hang of dwarven social graces, like what's considered an off limits target in a straight up bar fight. "He got me blueberries!" Growing up a couple of elves called him an idiotic brute. Sure, he knew it was true, and his mother called him that all the time, but she as family, these were uppity elves. He left them with sprains, bruises and the one girl with a big, wet, slobbery kiss on the mouth. But as much as he dislikes elves, he hates goblins. "Dwarvenses stop beating ready-man into pulp--"
"Not goblin, hobgoblin. Am bounc--AIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" A couple of goblins managed to catch him when he was very young. They made the mistake of giving him a hammer and having him fight their champion. A shot to the jublies and a another couple to the head and the goblin was down. Those that ran were hunted down. Those that begged for mercy, found none. Those that fought, were emasculated before being pounded into submission. "S-sweet Desna! That doesn't bend like that." "I GIVE! I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE!" "Brask, stop trying to kill my bouncer." "Eh, wasnae mooch o' a fight anyway." "Brask." "Aye?" "Get out."
Appearance:
Brask looks like a bushy red beard with legs and arms. His hair is also red and wild. His gray eyes look out from underneath a heavy brow with bushy eyebrows.
In short he looks like an ill-tempered dwarf. Personality: Calling Brask an ill-tempered dwarf is like calling pissing off a female dire badger in heat a bad idea. It's true, but fails to capture the full picture of what you're describing. He hates goblins with a passion and attacks them without provocation, or considering the consequences. He dislikes elves. The main difference between hatred and dislike for Brask is if he doesn't like you, he'll leave you alone, or insult you if he's in the same room, but won't try and gnaw your face off without provocation.
Strangely, he likes the ladies and would never harm an elven woman beyond traumatizing her with a big wet kiss. The only exception is if it's him or her. He always picks himself.
I humbly submit Brask Alpsbane, cantankerous dwarf ranger with a penchant for colorful curses, a dislike for all things elven, and a hatred of goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears so strong that he gets a little insane fighting them. GM:
I liked Brask, and I thought it wasn't fair to him to leave him cooped up in the hold's looney bin while recovering for a bout of low-charisma induced sanity.
Probably doesn't help that his charisma is actually lower this time. ^_^ I'll post his background and other stuff later tonight.
Somewhere in a padded cell deep beneath the mountains. "THEY CALLED ME A HOBBIT!" A dwarf in a straight-jacket foams at the mouth and and starts singing a rather impolite song about human genitals to the tune of an accursed song from the deepest bowels of the abyss. R.I.P. Brask Alpsbane.
Well, we hadn't done the trade in character yet, so I took it. That and it was the only armor Brask had. However he isn't wearing it now.
Cool. Well, Brask is out of the picture for the time being. He'll probably wake pissed as ever, and maybe more than a bit crazy.
Brask finally calms down, well, passes out is more like it. The dwarf simple falls limp and slips to the ground as he tries to fend off Kragg. Two nasty bruises can be seen coming up from where Magnum struck him.
Brask lowers his voice momentarily as he speaks to Kragg. "Fine, then they can 'ave me 'ead ta send back if I lose, but he has insulted me an' me 'onor. I'll 'ave 'is 'ead or die tryin' ta get it."
Brask's mind doesn't even cloud as his anger burns hot.
Sweet, because that's pretty much what happened with Brask's player. :P
Brask, in his ire, doesn't even seem fazed by the blows. In fact, he just ignores them.
Erg, I think I may have royally screwed myself both character and party wise. I'm trying to play a hot-headed character that has more than a few buttons. I can do hot-headed, but I feel like I may have overdone it with Brask. This is the first time since the first fight we've bee up against humans that were not on the aboveboard. the way I pictured him is a sour cuss with a deep loathing for humans. I think he may have been too accepting of Magnum in the beginning, or it could be he respects anyone who has the cajones to stand up to a dwarven king. Magnum has proven himself, and the human who led the first attack proved himself to be capable of redemption, enough so that Brask is willing to share a drink and travel with him. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm having problems finding a balance and I certainly understand if Chainmail winds up killing Brask for the recent stupidity. Even if he lives, I don't know if I can pull it off, he's a character too at odds with my natural personality. I tend to be pretty easy-going and I don't get mad too often, although I am very emotional. Because of this I'm beginning to find myself in a dilemma. I don't think I can properly play Brask's personality, and to be honest, I'm not sure I want to play him anymore. At the same time I don't want to stop playing this campaign. It's fun and I enjoy the RP that happens. We've already lost most of the original crew, and I think Brask and Khazad are the only two left. On the other hand. The way I have been playing Brask is probably screwing the party over, and that doesn't make it as fun for those involved. I can understand that some, or maybe even all, of you may want me to just go. I'd probably feel the same way in your shoes. I was just trying to RP a character and I botched up something everyone was look forward to. And this is the reason I didn't want to be leader. I knew I'd screw up royally somewhere along the line. Sorry about the stream of consciousness post. I guess the two main things I'm asking are A) do all of you mind still playing with me, and B) is it okay if I roll up a new character for this game?
The only word to describe Brask right now is seething rage. Before teh golem and it's pilot are out of earshot, the stubborn, half-crazed dwarf spins around and bellows at the top of his lungs.
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