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Damien sprints through the door. He tucks his spear over his shoulder so as to avoid putting anybody's eye out.
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Damien calls upon the spirits for aid. Sariel:
With that done Damien will gather his spear and stand behind Artemis.
Damien brings an arm up and manages to catch the pillow as it rebounds off of his face. He sighs, then tosses it over to the spot he had marked out for his bedroll. "Could anybody use some healing before we start pulling levers in the ancient tomb?"
"Maybe we should rest for the night before we start wandering around, guys." Damien walks over and drops a rope down to Calia before bracing himself as best he can and holding on to the other end of the rope.
Damien will gamely head over and poke away at the last guy.
Damien will move to attack any skeleton still standing.
Watching his spear pass through the skeleton's rib cage, Damien thinks back to a quieter time... "It's so sweet that you're going on a field trip with your little friends." His mother was busy bustling around the farmhouse kitchen, pulling knick-knacks out of the cabinet. Damien lounged against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. At her comment, he scowled. "For the last time, mom, they're part of my adventuring party." "Of course, dear," his mother said, smiling at him. "There's some chalk out in the pantry, on the top shelf, and some flour packets next to it. You never know when it'll come in handy." "No, I'm fine." "Oh, and your father's ten foot pole is out in the barn..." "Nobody uses that stuff any more, mom. We have magic and, you know, specialized skills." Damien waved his hands vaguely as he trailed off. His mother looked at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugged. "If you say so, honey. By the way, did you remember to pack a dagger? You never know when slashing will come in handy." Damien threw up his arms in frustration. "For crying out loud, mom, I'm fine! Why would I even want to get that close to a monster? I've got enough gear to carry as it is." Damien grits his teeth and resolves not to mention this part of the adventure when he gets back home. And maybe to listen to his mother's advice next time. For now, all he can do is keep using his spear and hope he gets lucky.
"I don't think this is another joke, guys." Damien takes a step to give himself a clear shot at the skeleton facing Sariel.
"I'm all in favor of getting out of the rain." Damien follows the group inside. Once they're under shelter Kolby shakes himself off from his perch on Damien's shoulder, unconcerned about the water he's flinging into Damien's face.
Damien does his best to heal up his good friend Artemis (anybody standing between Damien and incoming enemy fire is a good friend).
Damien gives a whoop and turns to face down the hill. Planting his feet, he leans back just enough to to keep his balance as he slides down the hill, keeping a loose grip on the rope as a guide line.
Damien takes his spot in line and carefully picks his way down the slope, holding onto the rope the whole way.
How far down is the gorge? I feel like we have a lot of rope.
"Did you guys save any of that rabbit?" Damien asks, gesturing towards the lake. "Might be fun to do a bit of fishing. Do our civic duty, or whatever." Damien scoots away from the water after he finishes speaking, but not before he hears his familiar's voice in his head. "You just want to see the water monster, don't you?" Damien shrugs, then turns the motion into a roll of his shoulders when he realizes the group is still watching him. He follows it up by shaking out his arms, as though he's preparing for battle.
Damien just shrugs and settles down by the shore to wait. He got his fill of poking dead bodies with a stick during his childhood.
Makes sense to me.
"Just listen to your friends when they spot something off," Damien said, nodding at Jenna. He directed an irritated glance down at the rabbit currently reclining comfortably on the loaded mule. At least Jenna had tried to say something. Kolby didn't bother looking up, but did pause briefly in grooming himself to stretch himself and give a little shrug before settling back down. Damien had never seen a rabbit look guilty before, and he still hadn't.
Damien grits his teeth and tries again. Stabbing these orcs is a lot trickier than the tree he used for target practice.
Damien takes a step back to gather himself, then grabs his spear with both hands and puts his whole body behind his attack.
Damien takes a look at the orcs, then at the gaping wound down Artemis's front. "This might hurt." Girding himself, Damien runs in to try to patch Artemis up.
The trick is to try to get your head in the way of the axe so it doesn't hit anything important.
I didn't add my daily prep stuff to my profile until just now. This will be my standard loadout for a while, if you want me to not use it until a day passes just let me know.
Damien takes a look at the gnome struggling under a pack that looks bigger than she is and shakes his head. "Let's save some of that for an actual pack mule. I already paid my folks, we can swing by the farm and pick Gus up on our way out of town."
Man, serpentfolk can't even run off into the mountains and meditate in peace.
How do you want us to handle equipment? I think you mentioned in recruiting that some of the "basics" would be provided by the town.
Damien looked around nervously as he closed the door behind him. His parents had told him this was coming, but it was still strange to see the mayor sitting on his father's favorite chair. Even more so when the mayor was there to visit him. "Take a seat, son." Damien sat on the couch, looking across the coffee table at the leader of Kassen. "Now, what you have to understand is that it's perfectly natural that as you grow older you'll go through certain... changes." Damien felt his face flush as he processed what the mayor was saying. It was rude to interrupt, but he desperately wanted to head this conversation off. "Sir, actually, my father already had this talk with me, so..." The mayor looked at him in shock, before leaning back and letting loose a deep belly laugh. "Gorum's balls, son, I don't care who you're rutting with," the mayor said, once he'd settled down, "I'm talking about all the magic." Damien had been working on his spirit binding at his familiar's direction. He'd been doing his best to bring good fortune to the town. Calling up the spirits was simple enough, but getting them to do what he wanted was another story. It didn't help that Kolby's idea of instruction was to insult him every time he did something wrong. Of course, he thought he'd been practicing in secret. "You know about that?" "Everybody knows," the mayor said, before leaning forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look, your heart's in the right place. But frankly, everybody will be a little more comfortable if you get a handle on things somewhere outside of Kassen. Somewhere far outside of Kassen." "Oh," Damien said, looking down. It looked like his practice time was going to be severely curtailed. "Fortunately, the quest for the everflame is coming up," the mayor said, "I suggest you volunteer." "Isn't that dangerous?" Damien wanted to be a big time hero that everybody looked up to some day. On the other hand, he didn't like the idea of putting himself in danger. He didn't think it was a great idea to go on any crazy quests until he had a handle on his magical abilities. "I strongly suggest you volunteer," the mayor repeated, his smile a little less friendly. "I see," Damien said, suppressing a shudder. "All right, then." The mayor soon made his goodbyes, and Damien was left to stare down at the coffee table. As he did, he felt a determination grow inside of him. So the mayor thought he was too much of a screwup to practice magic around the town. So he didn't really care if Damien got hurt on this quest. Well, so what? He knew he was destined for great things. Why not start that journey now? ooOoo "I'm coming too," Damien announced, the crowd parting before him as he made his way up to join the others. "Damien Lambert," he said, eyeing all the skeptical faces in the crowd. "Remember the name." "I'm sure they will... for one reason or another." Damien suppressed a sigh with the ease of long practice, but he couldn't keep his eyes from flicking over to the rabbit riding on his shoulder. He wondered sometimes how he was going to win the respect of the town when he couldn't even earn the respect of his own familiar.
Dotting. Happy to be here.
I'd also be happy to hang around as an alternate, though happier to be selected as part of the team.
@Budd - Thanks! I think familiars technically aren't supposed to be able to talk until fifth level, but I figured you wouldn't mind as long as it's used for dramatic and/or humor value. The fluff would be that any time he has game-relevant information he'll refuse to state it clearly because he enjoys messing with me. Do you have any particular plans to encourage or discourage crafting?
They may not find me handsome, but they at least find me handy.
All right, I'll take a stab at it... Damien's beginnings:
Damien grumbled as he pushed through the underbrush, using the shortbow clutched in his right hand to bat aside the low-hanging branches that blocked his way. The Fangwood grew in thick and wild. A stranger to the area would never have guessed that the town of Kassen was less than a day's walk away. It made for rough going, especially for a young man who had spent more time in the farmer's fields than the forest--and more time still hanging around the local tavern.
Damien was convinced that the world was out to get him. The day had started out well: his brother Adrien had been easily "persuaded" to handle Damien's chores around the farm, while Damien settled down to sleep off his hangover. Unfortunately his headache had hardly worn off at all when he was awakened by a screaming tirade from his mother. She had really laid into him and hadn't shown any signs of slowing down until his father stepped in. While his father was calm and collected, his decision was harsh: if Damien couldn't keep his attention on the farm, he said, he might as well direct his energy toward a worthy cause and track down the wolf that had been harrying their livestock. Damien had been dividing his attention ever since between trying to move safely through the forest and fantasizing about the revenge he was going to dish out on his rat fink of a little brother. He didn't even think about trying to skive off and continue his nap: letting your guard down like that in the Fangwood was beyond foolish. That didn't mean that Damien thought he had any chance of catching the wolf. The village's trained hunters had been trying to kill the thing for weeks. He was hardly going to succeed where they had failed. This was nothing more than a glorified punishment detail. It just wasn't fair. His older brother Sebastien had picked on him constantly while their parents turned a blind eye. Damien hadn't been able to keep all of his pocket money until Sebastien finally ran off to join the Nirmathi Irregulars. Of course, the minute Damien tried to assert his new authority as the eldest child, his parents stepped in to protect their precious baby Adrien. It was this kind of treatment that made him dream of running off and going on an adventure, maybe even joining the Pathfinder Society. He could do it, he knew. He was stronger than most of the men in the village, and-- Stop! Damien came to a halt before he even realized the thought had not been his own. He cautiously craned his neck, looking around for the source of the message. He had stopped in between two large trees, on the cusp of walking into a small clearing that was laid out in front of him. A white streak flashed across the clearing. Damien fumbled his shortbow in position, but the small animal had moved out of his sight by the time he had brought the bow to bear. A moment later, a large wolf came running into view, apparently tracking the smaller animal. The wolf stopped suddenly and growled, a low, angry sound that caused the hairs on the back of Damien's neck to rise. That small animal must have stopped just outside of his view. Don't just stand there... With a start, Damien realized that he was wasting a golden opportunity. Normally he would have counted himself lucky to get a shot at the wolf from fifty feet away while it was moving. Now it was standing still, not more than twenty feet from him. He sighted down the arrow and held his breath as he let it fly. With a sharp twang, the arrow seemed to simply materialize halfway through the wolf's head. Damien let out his breath, then began dancing in celebration when the wolf fell over, dead. "Ha! I did it! I did it! Wait until the guys hear about this. Damien Wolf-Killer, they'll call me! I bet-" He stopped suddenly when he realized the white animal--on second look, it was some kind of rabbit--was still there. Staring at him. Examining it more closely, he realized there was something... off about it. Something unnatural. You're welcome. "Eh?" You wanted to do something special, did you not? The rabbit nodded its head toward the dead wolf. It was a surprisingly human gesture. "I... you did that on purpose?" It was hard to read the body language of such a small animal, but Damien had the distinct impression the rabbit was holding back a sigh. I could do so much more--we could do so much more--if we could truly work together. If you learn how to tap into true magical power. "I can do that?" The rabbit hopped forward. A truly zealous light was shining behind its tiny eyes. The only question is, are you willing to make a deal? Damien's numbers:
Human Shaman (Unsworn Shaman)
Alignment: CN Deity: Erastil STR 14
Traits: Reactionary, Birthmark, Bully
Feats: (1) Improved Unarmed Strike; (human) Enforcer
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