Brynjolvar Ironeyes's page

Thanks for running this DMD. It has been a lot of fun, and I hope everything works out for the better soon. Best of luck to you!

Bryn nods, a grin slowly spreading across his cracked lips. Leaning in, he whispers. "Steal it, eh? That would be quite deflating for the shining ones. Wait for the distraction. If the chance ain't there, don't take it. I'll be fine either way."

Standing tall again, he waves his hand dismissively and scowls. "Going to my tent. Bunch of idiots here, want to get themselves thrown in a Thune dark site. Best not associate with them."

Quickly, the man makes his way towards the nearest alley...

---------------

With a crash, a large black horse with a fire-red mane and eyes the color of a blood moon, erupts from the south square, smashing through a vendor's stand of religious trinkets, sending cheap medals and wooden "longswords" spinning through the air. Belching smoke, the horse rears up on its hind legs and lets loose a deep whinny, before lowering its legs once more, and running straight north - through the crowd.

Bryn smiles and drops the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out under the heel of his boot. "Well I'm no fancy tosser, sheriff. The cheap stuff does me just fine. Tell me, the Archbaron's the law around these parts, right? So, you're his employee then, right? You need my sash, in case you need to remind yerself?"

Assuming the answer is no, the logger turns and follows the younger Staelish into the crowd. Catching up to the girl, Bryn growls, "So we just walk around then, make ourselves apparent?"

Yeah that charisma 8 bully shouldn't be talking :) Bryn's not worried. We're not in the wrong here. We got fancy sashes.

Bryn rolls a cigarette and watches the interchange between sheriff and... niece? Flicking a match across his workboot's heel, the logger lights his smoke and inhales deeply, before stepping forward and exhaling... directly into the sheriff's face.

"Whatsit matter, Aunt Rhona? Cimri can hang out with who she wants. And who's saying I'm shady? A man's got a right to know who's besmirching his reputation. Was it Aldo? Don't believe a word that drunkard says, Auntie."

Bryn stares back at Cimri, a frown on his face. The girl had spunk, but she was about as thoughtful as a wall sconce. "Gonna go for a walk," is all the man says, before he ducks out the doorway, giving a low whistle as the sunlight hits his face. It was a fine day. No need to spend it arguing.

Bryn looks into the box and takes one of the sashes, slipping it over his chest and nodding to Aelden. The logger knew why he was here, and it wasn't to talk niceties over tea. Still...

"I'll wear the sash, and if need be, heads will be cracked." Gesturing to Drathi, Bryn continues. "But, no one's going to take a twig like this one here, seriously. A stiff wind'll blow her over. Some of us can play the imposing force, others of us maybe shouldn't wear the sashes, if that's OK with you, Mysteriouso? Their talents are better spent in the shadows."

Standing and wobbling a bit, Bryn wipes a hand across the back of his mouth and belches. "Heres, ehhh? Better than'r my tent. Ir'll be back with my things shortly."

Swaying a bit from side to side, Bryn makes for the door, placing his hands on the frame to steady himself as he walks through.

Bryn clinks the coins around in the bag a few seconds, grinning, before dropping the bag in his pack. Coin like this, and the logger could pack up his tent, get a reputable apartment. But then the thought occurs to him. Why? Why stay around this s+%~e flyspeck town.

"Eh, Cimri," Bryn says, grabbing a dirty kitchen knife and cutting along the boar, thin strips, to be piled high on the buttered bread. "This your flophouse? You think Mysteriouso's got more work for us? Or you know he does?"

Bryn had a good education, in his youth, before things went bad. This Cimri, it appeared, had neither an education nor something much more important - a natural curiousity. The logger would do well to keep that in mind going forward.

Shrugging, Bryn pulls Louslik's business ledger from his pack and places it atop the lockbox. "Archbaron prolly knows what he's owed, but if he needs some proof... or dirt."

Turning, the logger follows the others out of the room. Down the steps and out of earshot, he casts a question Cimri's way. "Cimri - who's Mysterioso?"

Bryn, not a local and not caring to learn anything about this flyspeck town, shrugs and pushes on the door. "Why are we here, is the important question."

Bryn will take it.

Shifting back, Bryn stares at the man, doubled over. "Don't look at me, Louslik." Rummaging through the tanner's desk, the logger begins tossing aside the contents, a nice quill here, some letters there, until Bryn clasps the business's ledger firmly in his knarled hand. "Play nice and forget our visit, and you'll get your finances back, chumlet. Otherwise, I'll make sure this ledger's never found. I said look away! Anyways, chumlet, keep your trap shut, and your business won't grind to a halt for more than a week."

Heading for the door, Bryn speaks over his shoulder. "And be prompt with your taxes, dummy. You don't want another visit, yeah?"

The animal part of Bryn's brain rumbles low and angry, and the wolf, when he's skidded to a stop and turned again to face the tanner, hackles raised, growls the same. Taking a tentative step forward, Bryn holds off any further attack. Louslik was either buying time or ready to talk, and despite the animal's urging, the logger would give the tanner the benefit of the doubt...

The wolf charges into the room, teeth blared, a low growl rumbling from its throat. Legs coiled like a spring, Bryn leaps... at Louslik's crossbow. And teeth snapping the air, skids behind the tanner, drool flying from his snout.

"Paperwork, other things that show the tanner's been neglecting his taxes. Well, then, let's get on wit-"

The last of Bryn's words are choked off as a midnight black wolf stands in his place, eyeing the door, body tensed and ready to spring into action.

And subtracts a spell point too! Get it together, Bryn!

Bryn nods to Shady and Dogface, and shrugs, feigning nonchalance. If someone else were willing to go first through that door, Bryn wouldn't try to stop them. Better a bolt through one of their eyes, after all. Still...

"Shock 'n awe or whisper quiet, don't matter none to me. Just remember, dead men pay no taxes. And the Archbaron wants those taxes, I'd imagine."

Shifting back, Arruk places his hand on Aelden's shoulder. "Ehh, hang on a sec, Dogface. You're bleedin' something fierce."

It was a quick thought, one that the logger handn't entertained before. If I can shift myself, why not others? Still gripping the soldier's shoulder, Bryn pictured the the man's wound stitching itself shut, the blood staunched. And to Bryn's surprise, it did just that. Though, it looked painful as hells.

Bryn's armor melds into his form, but doesn't provide AC. Different shapes provide different natural armor bonuses, so I'll put any shapeshifted AC into his "active conditions" tag.

Edit: Bryn's holding his action to see what the result's of Drathi's action is.

Edit Edit: Is Abbie small, medium, or large sized? Bryn is whatever size Abbie is/was, which will affect AC.

His plan failed, Bryn tries a new approach.

Can Bryn get to Louslik in a charge, DMD?

Happy New Year!

I'll get a cure on Aelden once we know the outcome of the ruse.

Happy holidays, everyone! I'll be back online the 26th or so.

Bryn holds a finger to his lips, and a few seconds later, in his place, a large dog stands. The logger hopes he looks, in the dark and from a distance, enough like Abbie, in shape and size. Loping about forty feet away from the man, just in and out of view, Bryn heads back towards the palisade wall, where he sniffs, and crouching, pees onto the dirt.

Wiping the remainder of his dinner away with his sleeve, Bryn steps into the beast and swings his spiked hand at it, grunting as the cestus sticks solidly into the dog's face.

Anyone catch on that Aelden's a bit gruff? ;)

Just his warm and fuzzy personality - quite the conversationalist, and charming too!

Very charming. Hopefully he gets to meet the queen!

At least he's not trying to play his Cha 8 character as a Rake with an eye for "the laydeez" (just kidding, Bryn - I look forward to seeing you in action, so to speak!)...

Yeah, that should be interesting...

Not sure exactly how it is going to work yet.

Bryn glances at Dogface, and shrugging follows after the women, taking his time to squeeze through the opening, grimacing as the rusty nails slide and scratch across the logger's hide shirt.

Once through, he holds a finger to his lips and points to a firm bit of ground and then to Doll. Stand there.

Turning, Bryn holds his hand out for Dogface and Shady, waiting to help the men through.

So concerned with the others, Bryn doesn't notice a muddy patch of ground until its too late; turning, the logger slips and goes down in a loud heap, a grumbling curse escaping his lips as he does so.

Bryn shifts back a hundred or so feet from everyone and crouches, rubbing his watering eyes. Standing, the logger comes strolling into view from the darkness, whistling The Vixen Falls in Love by the great Cheliaxian composer Janecek.

Pulling on his suspenders, Bryn absently rocks back on his heels. "Palisade's got a gap in the northwest corner. Barring any better ideas, I say we slip through it. Boss."

Whoa, you're right on all accounts, sorry. I thought Draining/Painful Casting only kicked in when spending a spell point, but it doesn't seem to be that. And I didn't read the fine print enough on the size change.

Taking all that into account, I'll go with being a medium wolf. Stealth will be 16. Adding darkvision as a trait.

If Bryn fails his fort save, he'd just wait a round and continue.

Apologies!

Bryn chuckles, low and slow, as he leans against a tree trunk while the others talk. Removing a pouch of tobacco from his canvas pant pocket, the logger rolls a cigarette and smokes, taking the others in.

Dogface was easy enough to get a read on. Soldier, obviously, gruff and to the point. Bryn knew enough guys like him. Guy may be difficult, but he'd do what he says.

As easy as Dogface was to peg, Shady was difficult - or slippery, more like. He wore the cloakhood like a mask, using it to cast shadow along his face. And he apparently suprised the Boss, which wasn't good. Bosses are supposed to have a handle on their employees, after all.

Lady was the devout type, praying to the side, though Bryn couldn't catch the make or model of her particular master in the darkness. Regardless, Bryn would have to watch out for her; what zealots lacked in a sense of humor they possessed inversly in narrow-mindedness.

The Doll was attractive enough, but not Bryn's type; he preferred them with a little more curves. She was apparently here to do the talking, if it came to that - though Bryn hoped it wouldn't.

And then there was the Boss. In his opinion, Staelish showed more bravado than confidence. A kid playing adult games. But still, she was the boss, and as she said, she had the platinum. So Bryn would keep her happy.

Flicking his cigarette - still lit - into the night, Bryn shrugged. "Knuckles works. Before we do anything, we should know what we're up against, yeah? Ten more minutes won't hurt."

Walking into the darkness, Bryn stopped behind a stunted tree. A few seconds later, a small black housecat emerged from behind that same tree and began crossing the scrubby field towards the tannery.

Bryn grabs the bag and peers inside, eyebrow raised in surprise. Not how I'd seen this night going.

"Mule is a name I make sure people know. Gives 'em what's the word... preconceived notions about who I am."

"And what I am right now is someone's not staying in a tent tonight. And someone who's buying the next round."

Raising his finger to get the serving girl's attention, Bryn points to Cimri and then holds two fingers up, a backwards 'V'.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Staelish. What's this job you're needing, and when does it start?"

Slamming his glass on the table, Brynjolvar Ironeyes watches the ale spill over the rim and run down the glass's side, sure to leave a ring on the table. Not that this place - what was it called again, The Last Stand? - was worthy of a visit by the Archbaron or anything, but still, they gave coasters with their drinks. One of which, Bryn in the mood he was in - sat unused next to the logger's overflowed pint.

Grabbing a spoonful of stew, Bryn shovels it into his mouth and chews a couple of times, before picking up his glass and holding it up to the newcomer.

"Slop's fine. Goes down well with the garbage ale." Tipping back the pint, the logger finishes it in one gulp, slamming it down again next to the coaster. "Thanks for dinner."

The girl. She was small, but she had a look about her. Predator all the way. Careful, Mule, the logger chided himself. She's the worst kind of predator. One filled with anticipation.

Raising his hands, Bryn worries at his right knuckle a little, the one that always gave him trouble, ever since he cracked it on that hunter from some s***e town in the Whisperwood. The knuckle that always aches when it rains.

"Its no bother at all, about the camps, I mean. Momentary bout of weakness on my part, went back on a vow I'd made myself. Best it didn't work out."

"Which begs a question gotta be asked, Love."

Brin pauses, signalling the waitress for another pint. Since the lady was buying.

"Who are you, I'm so lucky to be eating dinner on your silver, and why the interest in an unemployed foreman?"

Good stuff, DMD!

*Speaking of healing, Bryn, are you sure that you want to take on healing with Draining Casting? It sounds super rough: having you to hurt yourself to keep everyone up sounds awful :(

It isn't optimal, but Drathi's channeling should help with resource management. I can only spend 6 spell points a day, so I've still got a 9 hp buffer, which isn't horrible for a striker. And I'll be picking up 9+ hp/level, so I'll be able to grow that buffer over time.

I suspect that with a midling AC, Bryn may be going under more than you're average PC though :)

Updated Bryn's profile with appearance. I've decided to nix the drawback and so I won't be picking another talent. However, at game's beginning, Bryn doesn't know that he can shift others - the first time he'll think about it is when someone is hurt.

Yeah OK, but you have to balance it out and give him some bad qualities... :)

Well, he's a little bit of a rake (a low-charisma one, but one none-the-less), and he is loyal to those that show him genuine respect, and he loves his sisters and mother very much, so he's got that going against him. But Bryn didn't tell you that, no siree.

And he's a healer, so there's that. CE healer for the win!

Incidentally, I'm using this guide to CE as a guide. It is pretty great.

Here's FC's submission; bad dude Brynjolvar "Mule" Ironeyes.

He's a logger by trade, complicit in murder by choice, and power-hungry opportunist by nature. Socially, he's a bully and I plan on playing him as such (though I'll tone it down with the PCs).

Mechanically, I've changed things up a little bit. Went back to my first concept, so he's right now a skirmisher, good with mobility and stealth, and can heal (fluffed as his first attempts to shift others, it will be a painful, if effective form of crude surgery). Longer term, Bryn will be a decent buffer and perhaps even a debugger, if the talents are there.

Edit: Still got one talent to pick and some gear to choose. I may also do away with the drawback so that I can shift others from the get-go.

I just took a job 17 hours away from my current one, and am going to have to trim some games (got to sell our house, wrap up things at my current workplace, etc.). Since this is one I've really not started, I think there will be little impact if I leave it. Please mark me inactive.

It has been fun gaming for you all, and I'm sorry to have to go so soon.

I'm down in Joplin

Hope this wasn't you, Darne:

http://nypost.com/2016/07/15/couple-arrested-for-riding-naked-on-stolen-law n-mower/

Where are you at, Darne? I'm in St. Louis, and have family in Springfield and Bolivar.

Also, what's the plan now? It seems we're leaning towards restoring Ser Erath's lands, bandit hunting, and griffon hunting?

House Coldbrook. Interesting. They also have enemies among the Faith.

"M'Lord," Bryn states, looking to Darne, "Where would you like me to go? Are we still to root out the Faith Militant here in our lands, or should I accompany yourself, Wynnter, or the Master of Hounds?"

awareness, notice 1B: 5d6 ⇒ (4, 3, 3, 1, 4) = 15 14
knowledge: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 4, 4) = 10

Not wanting to show his ignorance, Bryn leaves out what he doesn't know, only mentioning what he's sure of.

"Grell is known for their great library, errant knights, and are well educated, even in terms of other noble houses. Perhaps a bit of information or lore they are unaware of would do the trick? Or a particularly rare or valuable book?"

Brynjolvar fidgeted while the others talked of gifts, his mind already turning over the possibilities of what could be found about - and used against - the Faith Militant.

Blinking, he concentrated on the task at hand, ransacking his memory from his maester days, trying to recall what he knew of House Grell, what the house lacked, and what its ambitions were.

knowledge: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 3, 1) = 10 10
status, 1B breeding, if applicable: 4d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 6, 2) = 10 9

Bryn nods, secretly pleased that he's been tasked with such an important - and personally satisfying - task.

Of course, m'Lord. I'd be honored to see what weeds we can pull in your absence."

Bryn was appalled when Wynnter insisted on appearing before Lord Naelareon as she often did, but he knew from experience there was no way to dissuade her. Bryn would just have to be suitably defferntial, and make sure to distance himself from the girl if her head ended up on the chopping stump. Thankfully, a way to soothe any hurt feelings had occurred to the man before they ever entered court. Clearing his throat, Brynjolvar Ironeyes kept his stare at the ground, but spoke in a measured, friendly tone.

"Forgive my companion, m'Lord. I suspected she'd not be able to fool the court, but I did not argue against her appearance regardless. In truth, it allowed me to undertake my first job for you - to see how your court would react to deception in its midst. And I'm - frankly - thrilled to discover that your banners, knights, and maester are both perceptive and alert. Our enemies will have no end of trouble should they attempt a similar ruse."

It also showed the content of the character of some of your men, Lord Naeraleon. This Ser Manrel is prone to fits of emotion, while this Ser Marcus is an expert at suppressing them.

"As to the matters at hand, not knowing your Huntmaster's abilities, I cannot offer advice about griffons. If you think he and his men can take the creature, then send them - but only if you are positive. To lose such skilled help when bandits and zealots are near would be a... danger."

"There is value in dealing with banditry, even if - no, especially if - such lands are contested. As you say, if we make the bandit problem our problem, and then deal with it successfully... Then the people affected by those bandits are more likely to swear themselves to you, m'Lord."

Bryn cleared his throat again, willing himself to not show too much excitement at his next bit of speechmaking. "The problem with religious zealots, m'Lord, is that they always see themselves as serving a higher law than that of any lord or lady. And thus, for your own legitimacy, they must be rooted out, whenever they begin to take hold, like weeds plucked fine a fine garden walk."

"And Ser Marcus is correct m'Lord. If promises were made to Ser Ereth, they must be fulfilled as soon as possible. The faster, the more lords will flock to bend the knee to you."

Bryn looks from side to side as he enters the room, forcing himself to step forward with confidence. Under his breath, he whispers to his companion. "Be properly differential, dear. Our lives may depend on it."

When he gets close to Darne's throne, Bryn drops to a knee and then bows his head for a long moment, before looking to the young lord and smiling.

"Lord Naelareon, word reached my companion and I of recent troubles here in your court, involving some fanatics? I am here to pledge my support, and if accepted, you'll find that I can offer you my ears and eyes, and that I rarely misjudge the contents of one's character."

I'm happy to see how this goes a few times before chiming in, as I don't understand the rules yet.

Whatever you all want to do, I'm good with!

^ Good stuff, Warlord.

OK, I've got most of my background in the alias. I still need to get personality/appearance written and a bit about how he knows Wynter, but the basics are there.

TL/DR: Disgraced former master takes the name Brynjolvar Ironeyes and makes his way to House Naelareon, with the hope of making himself useful to them while he plots how to take revenge on a man named Kalby and the Faith Militant, and find out what happened to his illicit lover, the Lady Lythal.

OK, reconfigured Bryn - stats should be in order now.

It's 30XP for new players to be in the ball park with the old ones.

Noted, thanks for correcting me.

You made the character using the Houserules, but you create the character the standard fashion, only the XP after character creation is spent with the Houserules.

Ah, thanks for that clarification as well. I'll get the PC rebuilt tonight.

The Ironeyes is a nickname or actual surname?

It isn't his actual surname, though he tells people it is.

OK, here's Fighting Chicken's alias. I've got the crunch up minus equipment - do we roll a status check for the gold to spend for this?

If we roll: status: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 5) = 12

Bryn is middle aged, so I spent 240 xp/100 xp for abilities/specialties.

I'd like to save the 40 bonus xp to put towards a destiny point in the future.