Cyrielle Rousseau's page

I'd like to sincerely apologize for my silence. I've been going through a lot recently between my grandfather's death and a move all the way across the country, and I can't dedicate the same time to gaming I used to. I also haven't been as inspired by Cyrielle as I thought I might be, and so I think, in the interest of being fair to you all, that I'm going to drop from this game.

I'd like to thank GGGM and everyone else for giving me an opportunity, and once again, I'm sorry. If you could mark me as inactive, I'd appreciate it.

Please bot me as needed. We're in the process of having a death in the family, and I'm pretty much unfocused. I'll let you know when I'm back.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

Cyrielle rides close to the front (2nd?) with Posh still seated in front of her. As she rides, the conversation with the boy plays in her head, and she worries about whether teaching swordplay is the right thing to do. Nevertheless, the stop has refreshed her, and she's fairly observant.

Cyrielle crouches down, putting her face at eye level with the boy. She shakes her head slowly. "Not now, Hal. If we lose against the badits, which we won't, you'll be safer without weapons. You wouldn't stop them, only irritate them. And if we win, there'll be plenty of time to teach you some swordplay. And speaking of the bandits, we should be off. I think we've spent too much time here as it is."

"Yes, I do. I'm classically trained in Restov's Aldori style, as well as the formal school of Taldan fencing." Cyrielle drops off the side of her horse, drawing her blade slowly and handing it off to the boy. "And I'm also educated in the informal school of Taldan fencing. Do you know what that is?"

After waiting for the answer, she smiles and takes the blade back, ruffling the boy's hair playfully. "It's retreating. Sometimes you have to not fight if you want to win. I'm Cyrielle Rousseau. What's your name, big guy? Why don't you tell me about your brother? We're going to fight the bandits, and I'd rather not hurt him if I can help it."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

#2: I'll take the CL3 potion, sure.

#4: I have 10 days' worth of field rations to add to the community pile.

Cyrielle grins, but puts on a stern voice when she addresses Posh. "You had best apologize if you did scare them, 'hafwing'. If we're to be here a while, I won't have the locals fearing us unduly."

She reaches over, grabbing the gnome by the collar and setting him on the ground. "Now go be polite. I'll keep a watch over everyone, to make sure it's safe."

Um, I think I read the "Wingclipper" adventure a couple of times. Couldn't tell you which volume of Dungeon it was in, though.

Cyrielle reaches down and scoops Posh onto her horse. "No second breakfast today. Probably none tomorrow, either. Let's get moving."

No scout herself, Cyrielle nevertheless rides near the front of the party, peering out toward the southwest. "We should hurry a bit. It'd be better to get there more quickly than not, and the horses will be tired either way if the journey's that long. We'll follow whichever route you think would be best, Numalar."

I'll have a post in Gameplay later tonight. Today was a travel day for me.

As for modules, I've read through Hollow's Last Hope, both Crown and Revenge of the Kobold King (skimmed), Carnival of Tears, Realm of the Fellnight Queen, and Second Darkness (skimmed). Most of those reads are a while ago, and I never fell in love with Second Darkness as an AP, and know the general plotline for the Kobold King series but not the details.

I'm okay with any elements from any of those games you can incorporate.

I apologize for my posting rate. It's been a stressful couple of weeks, and I've had to focus a lot of my online time on just the games I'm running.

Cyrielle thinks for a moment on Numalar's words. "I'm sure we could push the horses enough to get there tonight, and it's the kind of thing the Bards back in Restov used to sing about." Her eyes light up. "I think that's the best option, but I'm concerned about walking into a bandit camp unaware at night. We'll have to be good about scouting to be sure we don't get ambushed."

"Of course, I don't know much about this Happs fellow; was he the kind of man to be on time always, or would a day or two be abnormal for him? If the game is already up, rushing will just make things worse."

Cyrielle votes we go for option A, but won't object to another option either.

The way I'm handling directions in my Kingmaker is I have a worldmap and a location the party's at. I also have a hexagon off to the side with numbers, clockwise from the top: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. The players just tell me which number the direction they want to go is, and off they go!

Cyrielle raises and eyebrow at Zokon's bit of information. "Well, perhaps we'd best be back from hunting our bandits in time for the party. If we have a victory to show besides you saving the Trading Post, it'll go a long ways in keeping the locals happy with us."

Fair enough. If we'd rather explore a bit, I'm okay with that.

"I do, of course, bow to the will of the group. Do we have any idea what else is out there? Perhaps there's a smaller group we could hunt down, or something similar." Cyrielle frowns, unprepared for being denied a chance to be a hero. "At the very least, we could plan a rough route in advance."

Cyrielle looks at Posh with a raised eyebrow, buts she's too busy eating, and more importantly, drinking, to say much in response to anyone. When Numalar asks about future plans, though, she can't help but speak up. "You all hardly know me, and I'm sure my voice doesn't count for much, but I think we need to find these bandits and defeat them. We'll drive them from their lair and cover ourselves in glory!"

Cyrielle raises an eyebrow at Tokin. "Well, it's not about the strength of the punch. It's about where you put it. I'd show you, but food awaits, as does business."

Turning to Svetlana, she addresses the woman with a friendly grin. "Miss Svetlana, what do you know about these bandits? Numbers? Skill? Aside from this Kressle, do they have any other fighters of note? If not, we should pay them a visit, and sooner rather than later, I think. Between Kesten's men and our strength, we should be able to slay most of them and rout the remainder, but in matters like these, more knowledge is better."

”Was we in a fist fight together once?” Says a seated man chewing a sausage. He pulls it from his mouth and wags it at you. ”Yeah come to think of it, you broke me nose at the ol’ ‘Ookscratch. Ahh, Dragoonscale rules.”

Cyrielle squints at the man. As she recognizes him, she grins widely. Ah, the Hookscratch. That was a brawl."[/b] She sits near him, offering a hand. "Cyrielle. I'll drink with you any time. Fight with you too!"

As she listens to the gnome talk with the guard captain, Cyrielle kicks back, sharing drinks with the guardsmen.

"Well, some of us are, at any rate."

Cyrielle drops from her horse, walking over to the man with the flowers, her hand stuck out. "Cyrielle Rousseau. I've got a charter signed by Noleski Surtova, and I assume these others do as well. Pleasure to make your acquaintance...?" She pauses for a moment to let the man fill in his name.

Once he's responded, she continues. "Have to say, sir, that pig smells heavenly. Any chance you could be convinced to share some?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Cyrielle looks at the others and rides forward cautiously, moving below the figure and (hopefully) out the other side of the bough it's "standing" on. "I don't think there's going to be an attack. Let's keep moving."

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

Glad to be out of the worst of the rain, Cyrielle shivers once inside her cloak and takes stock of the patch before her. As she stares into the dreary-looking woods, she does a quick double-take before shouting into the woods. "You there! You'd best come down from there and let us see your face, unless you want something bad to happen."

Looking at her comrades, she points into the trees. "We've got a figure over there. Looks to be man-sized, standing above the path. We'll see if we get a response."

Cyrielle looks at the copse of trees. "Well, any port in a storm, no matter how temporary." Giving her horse just a touch of heel, she rides into the ominous-looking trees and down the road, trusting her newfound friends to follow her.

Cyrielle glances at the dead horses, flushing a deep red in embarrassment. "W-well, I suppose not... Other ideas, then? It's a longer walk than a ride, I'd wager."

"If no-one has any better ideas, I'm game for a ride to Oleg's. I need to meet the locals anyways, as part of fulfilling my charter." Cyrielle starts digging through her saddlebags before thinking better of pulling the charter in the rain. "Speaking of locals...I'm Cyrielle Rousseau, and I'm here to bring civilization to these dark, blighted lands...or something like that."

Cyrielle continues to poke away at the strands of webbing and, after a few moments of it, decides there's nothing else worth looking for. "Alright, you lot up there. I'm ready to come back up. We'll do proper introductions once we're moving, but there's a storm to race right now." She begins climbing the ladder, sword shoved back into her scabbard.

Climb: 1d20 ⇒ 10

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

Which doesn't mean hearing sounds wouldn't be creepy... Also, I'm thinking it'll be a swarm. What do you guys think? Going to get a spider swarm?

Cyrielle drops into the pit, piking around with her sword-tip. She glances back and forth, struggling to make out any shapes in the poor light and webby cover. "Cyrielle. You're right, we should work fast. I saw a storm coming in on our way here." She brushes her shock of red hair out of her eyes and helps the gnome secure the dead horses.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

I'll be MIA for the next four days due to work. Please bot me in combat as needed.

Yeah, it's just a horse. I fully intend to dismount during the next round.

Cyrielle taps her heel lightly against Eloi's side, spurring him into a gallop. Riding straight for the creature, she pulls her sword from its sheath, shouting.

"Fear not, travelers, for I, Cyrielle, will save you!"

Posh comes along for the ride, unless he really, really doesn't want to.

"Y'know, Posh, I've been thinking. I know that's dangerous, but still, I have. Now, that gnome said something about giant spiders, and if that other chartered group finds some, they'll either need saving or get all the glory to themselves. I bet they're somewhere south of here. You want to see if we can find them?" Cyrielle looks south into the distance. "Of course, those stormclouds are pretty ominous too..."

"Wow, there are a lot of you folks trying to get into the Stolen Lands! I just left some 'charter holders' on my last stop southwest of here. As for which way to go, I'd say take the road hands down, there's some nice rolling hills and you can see to the edge of the valley, it takes you right to Oleg's gate....and after some thought there are probably a lot less giant spiders lurking there waiting to pounce on you too."

"Oh and I didn't name him silly, I expect his parents did that."

Vinegar nods sagely.

"His parents? What..you know what, nevermind." Cyrielle rolls her eyes. "Thank you for the directions, Miss Droo. Have a safe ride back to Restov, and try not to get caught in that storm."

Climbing back onto her horse, she nods to the gnome and spurs forward. Giant spiders? I wonder why she mentioned those?

As the rider approaches it is apparent all is not well.

"Oh. *huff, huff* hiya *huff, huff*. Gimme a sec to catch *huff* my breath." She pulls a long drag from her own waterskin before pulling out a bowl from her saddle bag and pouring some for her mount. She dumps the rest over her head. "Whoo! Okay, I'm good. What did you say again? Charter? Huh, maybe that's what they're doing down there then."

The wolf finishes its water and growls at the pink haired gnome.
"Right Vinegar. Manners. I am Squire Droo and this is my partner Vinegar."

Cyrielle looks at Posh, rolling her eyes, and turns to face the other gnome. "Well, Miss Droo, there's not time quite like the present. We've been assigned to explore south of Oleg's, and we're to meet up with a group of explorers to do so. Was it a straight ride the way you came to find them, or would it be best to continue down the road to the trading post?"

She glances at the wolf uncomfortably. "And why did you name your mount Vinegar?"

Thank you so much for bearing with me. My grandpa's in a pretty bad way, and I had the time to help out for a few days. I'm back, and will begin the catch-up process.

Posting will be difficult until Friday. I'm at my grandparent's house helping my grandpa out, and it doesn't give a lot of time to post.

Looking down at Poshment from the back of Eloi, Cyrielle brushes a few stray strands of red hair from her sharp, angular face. She dismounts, dropping nimbly to the side of her grey-and-white horse. "Well, Posh, I suppose we had best say hello, hadn't we?" While she waits for the rider to approach, she takes a quick drink from the waterskin on Eloi's back and digs out her pipe.

As the rider draws nearer, she tucks the waterskin away and stands in a comfortable, relaxed position, left hand brushing against her hilt. "'Ello, this is the way to Oleg's Trading Post, no? My friend, the little one here, and I have charters to meet with a group out here. A chance for fame and glory...I envy those who've been out in this wild already. Oh! Formalities! I am Cyrielle Rousseau, soon-to-be Aldori, swordswoman of some skill, and this is Poshment Underhill, my friend and a entertainer. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" She thrusts her free hand forward, keeping the other back in case the wolf is less-than-friendly.

Hi there, checking in. If anyone has questions about build/RP decisions, please let me know.

@Numalar: Thanks for the look-over. It was late last night and I wanted to get a baseline build up. I'll look over my sheet again to make sure those little things are fixed. I do have a question. This is just a submission, correct? I mean, I haven't been selected for anything yet, right?

@GGG: If you'd prefer I build something without ACG archetypes, I can certainly do so. I have a few other ideas, such as a net-and-spear Phalanx Fighter, that would fill the same basic role as the Daring Champion cavalier and would fit within your character creation requests. I'll build a rough statblock so I'm ready for that eventuality.

I elected to go with Order of the Flame because I felt it fit with what I wanted to do more. I was actually looking at Cockatrice for character reasons more than optimization, but Flame works just as well. Stat-block (minus gear) is up, and I'll have a 10-minute background up before I log off for the night, hopefully.

As for the Aldori Sword, I don't intend to dip in Swashbuckler to get it earlier. I'll be fine waiting until level three, and should still be reasonable at damage for those levels.

Hi there, this is Aest. I was told to drop by with a concept. Does anyone have a problem with a Daring Champion cavalier? This will be the alias I build it on, though I haven't started building yet. I'm thinking about Order of the Lion or possibly Order of the Cockatrice, and would be glad to use an Aldori Dueling Sword, though it'll slow down my damage in the early couple of levels.

I'll throw together a stat-block and 10-minute background tonight/tomorrow morning, and we'll see where things go from there.

Cyrielle returns to the conversation in time to hear the last of Sanriel's words. "So you're an adventurer too? I bet you've got better trinkets and tales than the other one. Someday, I'm gonna be an adventurer too. I even bought a sword today. If there's anything I can get you or your monkey, let me know; I love hearing about adventures!"

Cyrielle rolls her eyes at Jaduf. "Nuh-uh, you've probably never even seen a dragon. Not a big one, anyways. Don't worry, Davi. I'd save you. Oh! I went shopping today and bought some things. You'll like 'em, I promise!" Cyrielle scurries away before Davi can inquire as to the items, looking for another table to wait on.

"Oh. That's too bad. I've got a whole collection of things in my room. Most of them are things I got from adventurers when they stopped here, but some of them are from my own. I have a bunch of pens, some gold, a ripped-up pants-leg, and a really neat glowing stone! What kinds of adventures have you been on? I bet you fight dragons and orcs and rescue princesses that are much more pretty than Davi!" Cyrielle looks at Davi and sticks her tongue out.

I'm NOT a midget, I'm just young!

Man, trying to come up with a way to explain how naive Cyrielle is is difficult. It's a combination of naive and jaded. She lives in a tavern just a couple doors down from a man who (assumedly) has a different special friend spend the night three or four nights a week, but she had (until recently) no idea what that meant.

I didn't realize you were sitting right next to Sanriel, though. My bad.

Cyrielle delivers the tea, bread, and cheese to Jaduf's table, watching his eye follow Davi. "Good luck! Hal's been trying to become her special friend for weeks! Say, you're an adventurer, right? Got any fancy trinkets from your adventures?"

I understand completely. Besides, this is mostly just a fun-time thread, not anything serious. He's the only one likely to PvP, and then only if someone causes trouble. Most of us are level 5 or under.

Good thing too. Aebin only has +30 to his grapple CMB, to add injury to insult!

I deleted my post as well. No-one ever has to know!

"Hot tea, bread, and cheese. Of course, sir. It'll be just a moment." Cyrielle hustles off to the bar, arriving just in time to hear Davi.

"Sure is! Listen, you take an orange to that creepy skel'ton guy. He wants it for his...monkey. I gotta get some stuff for the guy talkin' to Unc' Aebin."

Cyrielle comes in, her arms filled with the fruits of her shopping trip. She looks at the newcomers, her eyes widening, and she quickly retreats down the staff hall to her room. A few minutes later she returns, dressed in a new smock and apron, and looks untrustingly at Sanriel. "Unc'' Aebin, what is that? Why is it here? And do I need to...do I need to get it a drink?"