Chamius Lune's page

How do you plan on dealing with players having to withdraw? Seriously, the shortest I've ever seen RotR finished was a little under two years, and a lot can happen in that time; change in jobs, in personal life, and in the most extreme cases a player might develop health issues that prevent them from playing. Unless you have some way that the PCs can recruit assistance mid-AP, this has the potential to be less than fun if the party loses its primary combatants...or its only capable healer.

Chamius relaxes slightly. "Fair enough." He chuckles, a little nervously. "Anything that helps you get back here in a week is fine by me, hey?"

How big is the crew? I'll be up front about this--Chamius recognizes the holy symbol and knows it to be of a deity that accepts sapient blood sacrifice in return for good weather and prosperity. He's concluded that the party is intended to be sacrificed on the island, and he's planning on going down swinging before getting onto the boat. So let's not do anything until that issue is resolved, one way or another.

Knowledge (Religion) check: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

The Taldan taps a nervous one-two-three-one-two-three on his drum before boarding the boat, then glances suspiciously over at the captain. "You're followers of the Water Lizard?"

"Halungalom, if you feel something wee, round, and furry start to come up, swallow hard--that's your bunghole."

Ah, this won't end well. I wonder how good the Johnsons are at surviving in the wild?

After the first day or two, once Chamius' hangover has worn off, he takes to practicing drumming abovedecks unless stopped.

"Oh, a cure wand? I can use one of those."

The Taldan sits up straighter at Cael's question, his enthusiasm clear. "Oh, yes! A huge difference! Timbre, volume, the warmth of the sound, how well it carries, whether you strike with a hand or a stick.... Here, let me show you." He picks up the bodhrán and a wooden rod with a knob on the end and beats out a quick riff, each stroke sounding clear and distinct. "The sounds carries better with the striker, so I'd use that if I were playing in a large hall, or as part of a group. Now, bodhrán isn't as good for this as a djembe or bongos, but here goes. If I was playing solo in a small venue, I'd use my hand." Another quick riff with one hand, but this time the individual beats are slightly more muffled, and blur into each other. "See?"

Chamius grins. "I have to get my best drum out of hock before I leave town. This one's all right, far as it goes--" He indicates the bodhrán on his pack. "--but I like the sound I get on the djembe."

Chamius shakes his head at Cael's question, then winces. "Sorry. Chamius Lune, drummer. I've not had the pleasure of the shipboard life yet. Just one of many experiences I've managed to avoid thus far. Still, it could be worse...I could be doing honest work." He shrugs.

Chamius can use a CLW wand.

Untrained Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 18

The short, somewhat chunky Taldan listens with some interest to the poor man's tale of woe, eating and occasionally tapping out complex rhythms on the table. Not bad...he could probably earn a few coppers a day on stage. At least, once he figured out the difference between a farce and a tragedy.

"Your plight has fair touched me to the heart, it has, Mr., ah, Johnson. I would be happy to assist you in this effort." He looks longingly at the bar, but quickly looks away at a glare from the barkeep. I believe she remembers me.

Percussive dot.

Just have to get the profile set up.