Duelist

Ciridiel Ithanduriel's page

18 posts. Alias of SecSeibzehn.


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Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

The elf readies his blade and nods. "When you are."

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

"Seems smart enough," he says, and blows a wisp of blonde hair from his face.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Dodging the volley of magic missiles and the arrow-- which explodes-- Ciridiel looks back at his companions with an expression that is... confused. He expected to be surged into the fire, but instead is untouched. Throwing out an encouraging thumbs up at the other elf, he returns the focus to the enemy.

Swinging his sword around him like a dervish, Ciridiel spins into his enemy with alacrity-- and horrible, brutal force!-- as he shows the demon-possessed man what a swordmaster can do.

Attacking the caster right in front of me; five-footing towards him or around him if I have to or can.

Attack!: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (14) + 19 = 33
Damage: 1d10 + 21 ⇒ (8) + 21 = 29

Iterative attack!: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31
Confirm!: 1d20 + 14 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 14 + 4 = 36
Damage!: 1d10 + 24 ⇒ (8) + 24 = 32
Critical damage!: 1d10 + 24 ⇒ (10) + 24 = 34

Total w/out crit: 51
Total w/ crit!: 95!

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Will Save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Ciridiel washes the foulness from the air around him with a wave of his sword. Seeing his enemy moved, he thinks of charging the approaching warrior-- until the grease slick rolls over the edge of the platform into the dirt in front of it. With a glance back to the wizard, he sighs and begins to make way towards the caster south of the platform babbling in abyssal tongue.

"Let's shut you up, eh?" he quips as he reaches them.

Double move to auspicious O-31!

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel sees the lone warrior outside of the web, and charges him directly, holding his curved blade aloft.

Charge Attack!: 1d20 + 19 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 19 + 2 = 39
Crit Confirm! w/ Critical Focus: 1d20 + 19 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 19 + 2 + 4 = 29
Damage!: 1d10 + 24 ⇒ (7) + 24 = 31
Crit Damage!: 1d10 + 24 ⇒ (1) + 24 = 25
Total: 56 damage!

We'll see if that 4 confirms...

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel raises his eyebrows and looks at the goblin. "Spot on assessment," he says, and charges forward intent on decapitating the speaking 'man.'

Initiative: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel didn't notice because he doesn't look people in the eyes. He's too abrasive to care what other people are feeling to try to gauge it-- he keeps his eyes on hands and weapons instead.

"Delicious souls, huh? Nice eyes. Real fetching."

He swivels the sword in his palms, taking a fighting stance. Glancing to the others, he smirks. "You guys ready, or should I compliment them s'more?"

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

The elf stops. With sarcasm, he says "Guess I have to go home then?"

Can't make that DC no matter what!

"I didn't walk all this way just to get turned away at the doorstep. What's with the dead bodies? What took place here?"

Ciridiel crosses his arms.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel shrugs. The elf watches the others deliberate on the course of action, and finally, yawns. When he's finished, he looks to Lothar. "All the talking and waiting around... I think I'm gonna go walk up and talk to them."

The elf does just that. He starts to stroll out onto the path, curve blade in his hands.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel looks back to his companions. "I think I like her," he laughs, and gestures forward.

"Let's set out, then!"

What's the caster level of the heroes' feast? It matters for temp hp!

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

"Sounds good," Ciridiel answers-- far less respectfully and with far less class than the others in the group. Polishing off the apple, he deposits it in a waste bin on his way out, nodding to the priestess of Pharasma. If he wasn't half-sure she would tell him that 'it is forbidden' or 'I have foreseen the future and you are not in it' he would have asked her out to dinner instead. "Just tell me where to meet you, aye?"

Oh well. Coin clinking, he heads towards the market.

Shopping!:

Gloves of Swimming and Climbing - 6250gp
Potion of Cure Serious Wounds x 3 - 2250gp
Potion of Heroism - 750gp
Potion of Haste - 750gp

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel gestures to the old man. "How rude."

He takes a bite.

"Thanks for saying what I was thinking, though, may not want to tread hard on the priests of the goddess of fate. Think on that," he says, continuing his total interest in the apple at hand.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

"All well and good."

With a smirk, he adds "Destiny spoke out and said that we're the only ones who can do this, right? Well, then. May as well let the Lady know that I'm not one to turn down an opportunity when she asks."

He coughs and holds out his hand. It has the apple in it. Taking a bite, he says through apple grit "When do we go?"

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Ciridiel listens to the priestess, wiping an apple down with the corner of his cloak the entire time.

Besides the pampering, the stay had been boring so far. And now she wants them to ride up a bucket into a monastery? Whatever. She paid, he fought, they both got what they wanted.

He's about to speak when the dwarf does-- and questions why he's been chosen for this. Truthfully, Ciridiel is interested in what the woman will say, so he stays quiet for now, casting wholly blue, alien elf-eyes across the room and taking in the splendor.

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

It wasn't as if this, of all things, was going to kill him. It was only a headache.

Still, his brain dittered about his skull like it had come loose. He sat up, broad circles about his eyes, his hair wild and mangy.

Drinking. He'd been drinking again, hadn't he? A cursory glance to the bottom of the vessel, so beached on the shore, confirmed it. Yes. He had emptied several bottles. Drinking would be the death of him.

Well, he'd made it here, which was the point. The letter was crumpled in his pocket, and he made sure he had it. Good. Time to find this Jasmine and see what she wanted. He took in the City of Crusaders with the respect it deserved.

Nerosyan stood tall and proud, half-beaten but standing at the corners of the Egelsee, and that's what Ciridiel had come to see. Archers bristled, soldiers bustled; Smiths clanked and armorers clanged. Priests gave sermons in the distance, and a young boy stared at him from the shore where his boat was docked.

"Your eyes are stuck," he warned the youth in a groggy voice before swinging his legs out of the barge and stumbling into the muck. He hadn't found his legs yet. They were both asleep-- of course.

Elvish master swordsman, found flailing in mud at the river shore after being left dead drunk in a longshoreman's boat... His father would die of embarrassment if he could see him now.

By the time he'd risen, the youth was gone. Gathering his things, he appraised them and cursed himself silently-- he kept forgetting that he'd left great-uncle Bithaliar's curve blade with some yokel on the shore somewhere. All he had left was the Answerer-- a red steel weapon engraved over with scowling images of flame spires and burning vines. It was a legendary weapon, and it was in the hand of a legendary warrior, like it belonged. Thank the Gods he hadn't left it behind for the yokel, because if he had, he would scratch the thousand gold and go back to get it in a heartbeat. The crusade could end for all he cared-- he needed this sword. It was an extension of him. Lifting the Answerer, he proceeded into Nerosyan with the half-drunk stagger that only someone without any fear could walk.

Ciridiel used his reflection in a barrel of water to fix his long, glorious blonde hair, check his ears, pull the gunk from his eyes and straighten his armor, which he had unfortunately slept in. It was fine-- Mithral was Mithral, and it was as comfortable as night clothes; Stern, rigid, pointy-jointed night clothes. He pulled his cloak across his shoulders and entered Nerosyan through giant gates, but not before casting a long, azure look over the landscape. Just beyond the horizon is where angels feared to tread.

He knew his destiny lied there.

Striding forward, he set out to find this 'House of Restful Sleep.' Pharasmins had a way about naming things in the most dour and grandfatherly way possible, but they were ages ahead of elves. The Greenleaf Thornbriarcastle was an example that stuck out in his mind. Who would do that? An elf. An elf or a gnome.

Maybe the House of Restful Sleep had a few comfortable beds and a few comfortable women. That would make this trip a little less boring, wouldn't it?

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Anything about hp? I didn't see anything... I'm probably blind though.

9d10 ⇒ (3, 2, 10, 6, 4, 9, 10, 4, 5) = 53... if there's no other method!

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Dot!

Grand Lodge

Male Elf Two-Handed Fighter 10; 63/69HP, AC25/16/21, F +12, R +10, W +7, Perception +3 Init +6

Sorry for taking a while to get down here! Reporting for duty, sir.