Brimlii Titansteel's page

Brimlii approaches cautiously. When he arrives at the camp, he says a prayer for guidance (casting guidance on self) and patrols the area looking for left-behind belongings.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 (using guidance)

But imagine, what if it was some mythical lake beast, a serpent of enormous size. The fangs on that thing could fashion quite a nice dagger, maybe even a sword or spear! Brimlii trails off into a daydream, almost mimicking the movements of smithing. Ahh but I suppose that'd be pointless if we all died trying to get it! Very well, let's be off then. Brimlii ties his waterskin to his pack for easy access, water still dripping off his beard and heads off with Griswald and Nivel.

Aye, that's a good sword. Crafted with precision in mind. Better than you're average sword, I'll say! Brimlii hands it over to Firyin, And you're less likely to bust a knuckle or break a nail with it too! Brimlii gives him a playful punch on the arm, again, hitting a bit harder than was intended.

Upon reaching the body, Brimlii feels grief stricken, then afraid that this may be his fate. Unfortunate, this is. Leaving behind such a fine piece of steel. Torag would have me dead if I left it to rust. I think one of you should take it. He points at the rest of the group. We've seen how unfortunate I am in combat. He chuckles at his poor joke trying to lighten the mood.

Sorry for the late post, was quite busy last night.

Brimlii agrees with Merk's comment to Firyin. Aye, I was about ready to splash 'em with acid 'fore you came in. That've been a travesty. Brimlii sleeps on the thought of himself talking wolves, realizing he'd simply start yelling and swinging his weapon. In regards to Griswald's question, Well, my magic is a bit different than his. Mine comes from the mighty Torag, his...well his comes from some strange well of arcane energy somewhere. But not to worry, most of my spells are defensive magic, focused on protecting you from harms way. I may work a lot on smithing, but my true work is my dedication to Torag. I smith in his name afterall! Brimlii goes on talking about Torag, trying to whisper when reminded, but eventually returning to his boisterous voice. He is not paying very much attention to their surroundings.

Initiative for Brimlii: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Man Brimlii is having a bad time of things with these attacks lol.

Brimlii wakes up at Merkava's violent shakes and loud shouts. Putting on his armor as quickly as he can. By the time he's ready and turned towards the wolves, he sees javelin flying their way. I guess we're taking the offensive! He raises his hand utters a few words in old dwarven, and sharp, bright green bolt of acid jets forward at the closest wolf (#3).

Acid Dart attack (touch): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Damage (acid): 1d6 ⇒ 1

I'll take 4th watch. And yes, I'll be sleeping without my armor. Putting it on for watch. And essentially keeping Guidance cast at all times.

I don't know much about wolves, but I do know that they hunt in packs. Brimlii grabs his equipment, and takes a few steps towards the wolf (10 feet). I quickly look around the campsite to see if any wolves are trying to sneak up on us.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

If he has enough actions, he'll cast guidance on himself.

Brimlii spends the night attempting to calm the party, recounting classing stories of dwarven heritage. While stoking the fire, he shares the tale of Brimlii Fireforge - a strong dwarven smith who supposedly wore a flaming beard and defeated a flaming demon with the resounding boom of his smithing hammer.

Firyin, whichever watch you want, I will take the remaining. My dwarven eyes can penetrate the dark. Hopefully there's no need for a watch."

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Blasted elf-wanna-be! Tell me how to fight and I'll...I'll... Brimlii shakes his morningstar as if it was his own fist. Aah your probably right. At least I didn't shoot one of ye in the back! Haha! That'd be a real problem. Brimlii hurries ahead, then stops and turns back to the group. This should be enough of a head start fer me not slow ye down! Let's get a move on and not waste this precious sunlight!"

Brimlii isn't trying to be particularly rude or aggressive, but he often comes off that way. And he hates being reminded that his stubbby legs hinder others. ~_^

"I think Nivel's right. Who ever is in charge of these tricks is most likely from the village and does not deserve to be punished. But that does not mean we can't be prepared. We should keep our witts about us, stay keen and have our weapons ready." Brimlii puts up the crossbow and grabs his morningstar and shield, trying to keep as close to Griswald as he can. For safe measure until we get away from the supposed wizard, Brimlii casts guidance on Griswald just incase an attack is necessary.

Smacking his crossbow in frustration, "Stupid contraption, I should have stuck to my handy morningstar." Looking around the abscence of any evidence of a fight, Brimlii is shocked at how real everything seemed. "I guess this is a taste of whats to come. I wonder how imaginary death works if they land a 'fatal' blow."

Previous post appropriately deleted.

Brimlii runs forward (L14) and slides to his knees, propping up his crossbow and taking aim at the wounded greenskin in front of Merkava. He barely hears what Nivel says, adrenaline drowning out all other sounds. "Ye blasted elf, there's nothing fake about 'em! I should know, it's in me blood t' smell an orc!"

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Crossbow Attack: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 2 = 11 (+1 dex, +1 hatred, -4 shooting into melee)
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 3

Haha, ouch... at least they're illusions, whatever that means

By bow I mean crossbow hehe, and by ready I mean shoot when/if one of those creatures gets in range.

Crossbow attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 (add +1 if guidance was cast and +1 from hatred))
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 8

Seeing the glint of steel, Brimlii is apprehensive about the situation. "I don't like this..." he says quietly. Preparing for the worst, he casts Guidance on who he can (order of importance Griswald, Nivel, Merk, Me).

Inititiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
He readies his bow, and moves forward the full 20 feet.

So we're completely unaware of what's going on with Firyin, that's my impression at least?

Since the group has stopped, Brimlii has taken a few swigs of brandy, only to sample it, no amount to get drunk. "Definately savin this for th' amputations. Hopefully that guy doesn't get himself captured and give up our location."

Also, I believe the marching order from back to front is Merkava> Nivel> Brimlii> Griswald>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ;Firyin

What feels like a liesurely stroll to the rest of the party is a hurried walk for Brimlii. He isn't able to focus on any complex task. Mainly he is keeping an eye for anything that could go wrong.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

Well I don't think Firyin is going to be spotted or surprised...

"Aha! A healing potion, that'll come in handy. But more importanly, th' delicious bottle o'Brandy! I'll save this when I have to saw off one o' yer legs. Brimlii lets out a howling laugh. No real sign of whether he was joking or not with that last comment could be seen. When Griswald walks to the front of the line, Brimlii shuffles forward, trying to get between everyone middle position. "I think this'll be a good position, able to reach all o'ye equally."

Dreaming about the fame and wonderful reputation he'll have on his return, Brimlii wasn't focused on what Firyin was saying. He turns back to address the half-elf to find he's not there. "Where'd the gray one go?" he asks.

Brimlii heaves the backpack overhead, letting it smack down on his back. Turning to depart with the rest of his companions, he shouts behind him. "Oh an' Braggar, they said me steel looked quite nice. HAH, I bet you've ne'er heard that one before!" When he reaches the outer edge of town, he stops with Griswald to inspect his pack. He picks up the bottles, "I wonder what's in here?" Don Saint, let me know if I need to roll anything to determine. He then picks up the piece of map - "Now what am I to do with a piece o'map?" He tosses it to Griswald, who seems to be plotting some direction. "See what you can do with it."

Even though my character has low charisma, I feel I'm playing him as outspoken as someone with high charisma would. However, I see his downfall being a lack filter and often to loud for most peoples comfort. If you wanted to justify it using similar reasoning.

Sounds Good

Brimlii looks around the crowd in search of the a short, yet broad, hooded figure. Spotting a couple, He notes the long, braided bearded protuding from the hood of one. "I knew he'd come!" He then turns to the half-breeds as they step back. Then looks at Merkava "If you don't want it, I'll take it..." trying his best to whisper.

Bringing my trusty hammer, but other than that, just weapons and armor.

Just testing some rolls and stuff.

Brimlii swings his morningstar at a nearby goblin, "Cursed greenskins, I'll be the end of ye!"
Morningstar: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
As he hits the goblin, it fades into dust. Realizing it was a dream he wakes up, ready to get back to work.

Taking a sinister grin in response to Griswald's comments, "You mean ye haven't heard? There's supposed to be traps an' puzzles an' ghosts an' th' like. Who knows, maybe this year a necromancer will have stumbled in an' taken o'er. That'd be a real adventure!" The thought of bashing some skeletons' bones was thrilling. He gave the square one last glance around trying to spot Merkava. Nothing. Then a resounding bang erupted from behind. Knowing it had to be Merkava, he turned to greet him, "Hail Merkava! I've got a new bit o' steel t'show ye." He holds up his morningstar for Merkava to see. "I'm not showin off am I...? No, any smith would be proud t'show their work." Acting like a child fishing for complements, he continued to showcase his work.

When Griswald reveals his presence, Brimlii turns to give him an unintentionally hard punch in the arm. "I knew a burly beast like ye would be joining us. I'm not sure what's waiting in th' crypt, but this should as easy smithing an ingot." Looking around for any indication of others, he spots that half elf who tends to keep to himself. "Nivel, ol' mate, good to see you. I haven't seen Merkava all morning, I'm sure he'll be around soon."

"Ay, that it is. The river fog makes it hard t'forge all these fine details." He holds up his morningstar, revealing the shape of a fist beneath numerous spikes. "Imagine th' surprise ay bein' bashed by a spiked fist on a stick! HAH! I can't wait to show Merkava!"

@Nivel, I couldn't find the antihero option in hero labs, just ended up adding an additional one and ignored the error.

"Strike it harder, ye loon! It don't need to look like a bonnie lass!" Shouted Braggar. He had a way of leaning over your should and bellowing into your ear, if you were short enough.
"But I spent all morn smoothin' the steel!" Brimlii shouted back. It didn't matter to Braggar, hard work means nothing if the weapon can't split a shield, or the breastplate block an arrow. They spent the rest of the morning arguing over a single hammer head to fit a masterwork mace that was due later in the week. A few hours passed, the sun finally crept high enough to shine past the treeline of Fangwood Forest and Brimlii lay down his hammer to wash off before the ceremony. Donning his armor and hefting his shield and morningstar, he turned back to face the forge for a final goodbye. "I'll not be long lassie, ye'll soon feel the strike of me hammer again." He looked at his weapon, realizing how crude it was compared to Braggar's work. "Well I guess it's time to-" "Time to put yer daft weapon to the test," Braggar interrupted, finishing his thought. "A paid weeks off if it's not shattered when ye get back, if ye get back." Braggar gave the young smith a hard smack on the back, and shoved him off towards the square. That was his way of saying goodbye.

Brimlii was beaming with excitement on the way to the square, half running the short distance. He couldn't wait to see the other adventurers. "I bet that burly half-orc'll be there. I wonder why they call 'em half-orcs and not half-humans...? And maybe Merkava too! Torag's forge! Nye a foe could stop us! And maybe -" He arrived at the square and found it empty. "I must be first. Got t'be first. No way I'm the only one." Unsure of what to do, he placed himself in the center of the square, straightened his back, and waited patiently, bracing himself with his morning star, waiting for something to happen. Unable to take it finally shouts,"Hello! Brimlii Titansteel reporting fur the ceremony! I haven't missed it have I?"

Just to aid in reading Brimlii's dialogues or thoughts, I will be attempting somewhat of a scottish dialect. So if there are unknown words, they should be easy to look up.

As far as personality, Brimlii is a straight forward speaker, who never intends to hurt feelings with his bluntness, but often does. He loves to show off, but not through his actions. Rather, he takes to witty insults and cunning remarks. In other words, Firyin, Griswald and Nivel will probably get some slander for being "mutts" (of course no offense is meant ~_^)

Basically just add want you want in the class/level section of profile.

Changed skills to have Appraise and Sense Motive.

Hello all, I'm a student attending the College of Charleston. Never done a play by post before but I have read several good ones in preparation. I'm currently DM'ing a game with my roommates set in the Warcraft universe using the 4e system. Played in a campaign a while back. Looking forward to it =)

Regarding Brimlii, I put points in Craft Armor&Weapons, are you going to allow making skill checks to earn extra coin when the party is in town with enough downtime for dedicated work?

Here is Brimlii Titansteel, a dwarf smith who's working as an apprentice under Braggar and a practicing cleric of Torag