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Cracked Tusk listens to everyone else and states I was looking at your “battlefield” and has a couple nasty thoughts, something to really spice up the game, maybe set a couple traps out there. Nothing too serious of course. We don’t want to be killing anyone. But, a ladder rung sawed down on the sides here, knock out darts there. Really test a persons mental and physical abilities in battle.
Quiet a setup you have here, Tusk begins, A few fighters, couple healers, and fill the right pockets, this could be a very lucrative business, not to mention a nice distraction to help lighten the pockets of those fortunate enough to afford the viewing of it. Tusk wiggles his fingers, which are now receding back to their normal length though a strong eye, and Thrusk, notice that some of the stretch marks on his skin around his fingers and face have reddened slightly from being stretched out. He wiggles his jaw back and forth, making sure it was back to its original size and continues. A couple of merchants wouldn’t be too bad to have down here either to sell Elixirs or other consumable items in between battles. But one thing confuses me, if you don’t mind, how does one keep the city ingrates, I mean, guards, occupied away from these fights?
Some GMs play it as he would get it as he wasn’t observed until he moment he was striking, a little flavor added as a means not to nerf the sneak ability, as the only other way he could use it at this point is if he could get a flanking bonus, which is not likely in this setup for a while. Others play it RAW and state that as soon as his first movement was over, so was his stealth.
Cracked Tusk looks at his companions and gives a throaty laugh. Starting sooner than I expected, but no matter. He draws out 2 little vials from his bandolier and ingests the small green one. Instantly you watch as his fingernails grow in length and form sharp talons, his jaw widens and razor sharp teeth curve outward and back, his right tusk, which no one has ever gotten a good look at due to its size is now enlarged enough to see that the top half inch is completely missing. The smaller red vial sits in his clawed hand, ready to be thrown at a target.
Everyone calls me Cracked Tusk. No, it’s not my given name. I’m here to show that the Orcs are not just bloodthirsty killing machines from the past. Tusk stands tall and proud at this, then thinks. As for her to fight, of course, time to stain the area with the blood of our foes! fort a second, there is a thirst in his eyes, and sneer on his lips as he cracks his marked and calloused fingers. It’s only for the briefest of moments before he regained composure again and blinks. Er, sorry about that. Umm… what brings you out here? He asks again in his usual calm and collected voice.
You hear a bang comes from the next room, like a small explosion and then a beast-like roar. Moments later Cracked Tusk emerges from his room with rage filling his eyes. He looks about and sees the other pathfinders there starring at him. If those little beasties don’t stay out of this room, I swear I’m going to bite each one of their ears off! He pauses for a moment and looks at the trio standing in the hallway hangs his head and walks to them, extending a hand. I’m sorry, these bloody critters have me worked up something fierce. My name is Darvinch Oaraky, but my friends call me Cracked Tusk, or just Tusk for short.
Really bored so I reviewed my character and made a couple changes since we haven't started yet. Instead of Orc Weapon Familiarity, he now has Orc Lore, to fit better with his background, though he doesn't appreciate the actions his clan had been taking, hence striking out and Freelancing with the Pathfinders. Equipment updated to reflect this as he now carries a sickle vs a greataxe. Quick Bomb was replaced with Alchemical savant to show how he utilized his talents in the field to identify possible reagents to fuel his mutagens. Character Sheet link was added that provides all other details not listed in profile.
The half-orc lowers his hands and looks at Kernal Klank with a side slight sneer. And tell me Kernal, Just who thinks we need this “Protection” hmm? Will you be able to dodge and jump and run when fire and brimstone start falling from the sky? Or will you hope there will be some cleric standing by as you lick your wounds?” Cracked Tusk returns to his cabin and shuts his door, setting the knight bolster about being the “protector” sent chills down his spine as he remembered the thoughts of his clan. The memories of the chieftain screaming as they were all beaten, You are all Orcs, and as Orcs, we rely on no one to protect us but the thickness of our skin!” He says on the bed, feeling each and every lashing of the whip on his back. Twice beaten then the others due to the “impurity” of his blood. He would get little rest tonight for sure.
Cracked Tusk holds up his hands, the skin shows marks of stretching beyond there normal length causing long discolored marks down his fingers. Closer examination of his face and neck also show these signs, but some effort has been made to cover the marks as to make him not so distasteful. Aye, I do. I've made some practice in altering my physical state, obviously with some slight set backs. He cocks an eye brow at the elvish man and asks, [b] What about you? Where does your expertise lie?[b]
Passing by Elsha’s room, Cracked Tusk here’s the poor man’s pitiful cries for help. Luckily the goblins left the key in the lock, so he twists it and opens the door. Familiar odors fill his nose as he sees the half-elf. Bloody goblins, aught to be sent back to the pits of hell where they came from, eh?
Bloody Goblins! Open this door! You hear shouted from below decks. There’s a bit of crashing and banging. Suddenly two goblins scurry up from below decks laughing and jumping, meanwhile being chased by a large cloaked figure. He attempts to grab one but he easily slips away. If I didn’t need this passage, I’d cleave all of you to tiny pieces and feed you to the sharks! he exclaims again. Across his chest you see a bandolier with several small vials, none of them labeled, but each has very distinct colorations to them, you also see a couple of twigs, some leaves, and a vial of unknown liquid sitting in the last pouch. Across the Half-Orcs back lays a Greataxe, and you make out what appears to be a dagger jutting from his belt. A keen eye notices another dagger on his left forearm, and a sling tied to his right. As the goblins climb the main mast and well out of his reach, he shouts out, By Sarenrae’s light, if I ever get the chance, you’ll learn why the call me Cracked Tusk! with that he retreats back below deck, not wishing to be disturbed unless necessary. |
