Dr. Grey remains silent rather then attempt to aid the man. In truth, the plague mask, for all it's unsettling glory, probably did the group many favors by covering up the more unsettling man beneath it.
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Right, but the original plan was 'plague inspection' in the morgue not 'we're going to inspect this particular body for plague because reasons' wasn't it?
So Stella and Erasmus both said 'screw the plan'?
Dr. Grey eyed Miranda curiously, then offered his tools to her without a word. The small pouch like thing was actually rather heavy thanks to the metal objects within. Each was sharp and well cared for and there were more then a dozen of them all told. Some looked quite similar, save for a slight variation in the length of the blade, while others were clearly quite different, ranging from clamps to hooks. Miranda if she 'Reads' the Tools:
A feeling of cold wetness. The sensation of flesh parting. Used with precision, each tool had dozens of stories, had been used dozens of times. And each time, the blood that stained the blades and was wiped away was always cold. Rather then give more, the stories blurred together into that same feeling. Cold blood staining the metal as flesh was parted. Dr. Grey walked the underground passage silently and entered into the church with equal care. His footsteps were eerily quiet as well. A man with his long limbs would seem ungainly while moving and yet not a sound or whisper, as if he knew just how to place his feet. Precise, rather then skilled, and largely unconscious. Within the temple, Grey felt a little better. Around them were people who understood the value of silence and death. He looked to the group, then waited for them to be led on to the morgue.
You wouldn't happen to be a manager in the Fargo Downtown area of North Dakota looking for line cooks would you? XD
"Depends on the body. It could take minutes or hours. Depends on the plague too. I'm honestly hoping their morons because the idea of a... Well, it doesn't really matter. We need to get going or it will take that much longer when we get there, by simple virtue of the wasted time here." Grey turns to the guard woman and waits for her to lead the way.
Ah. I have no idea. I plan on making up some medical crap by stealing from scrubs and house. About the only thing I can tell you is that it's not lupus and monkey's are funnier then cats.
I think unless anyone else comes up with idea's, or really wants to move along with forgery's, we should go along with the 'plague inspection initiative'. We're losing momentum with this discussion, such that I can't even think of anything to post other then good doctor Grey being snide. XD
Dr. Grey frowns, but not at Laurence in particular. "If they can't be discreet then they really shouldn't have their position. But if we make it sound more routine, perhaps a new initiative of sorts, we might be able to use this ruse again at a later date. And it will avoid any panic as well."
Grey didn't like the lack of planning either. The idea was to get in and out unnoticed. But a thought occurred to him as the others were speaking. He set down the holy symbol that had been tossed his way and instead reached inside his pack until he found... There it was. He rarely had a reason to use it but it was better to be prepared. He takes out the mask and puts it on. A plague mask, or doctors mask in some places where plague was more common. "Perhaps a joint effort. A local physician and a few Phasmaran priests investigating the possibility of plague. Some plagues have symptom's hidden within the body, which would require thorough examination, explaining the need for study as well as the need for a few priests 'should anything be found'. When we find nothing, we can simply say it was a false alarm, and they will be grateful for our due diligence. And our... allies within the temple need suffer no bad will for our deception." His voice sounded only slightly muted through the mask, but oddly the lack of a visible face somehow seemed to make him more relatable, not less. The excuse of not seeing his expression made it harder to simply say it was conceited or disinterested.
Dr. Grey sniffs in disgust as he looks down at his gear. He hadn't expected to take his spear into the morgue but admittedly the rest of it would have been useful to one degree or another. He'd keep at least two vials on him though. "Being of the faith doesn't give us quite as much of a reason to look at the body as you'd expect. Ontop of that, what I'll be doing with the body might not be something one can hide. I don't really care, but our friend here..." Grey nods to the Phasmarin believer, "Might care if we bring the guard down on them for 'mutilating' corpses."
Dr. Grey gestures toward her in a 'there you go' sort of manner, as if her response had merely proven his point. Then he stood from his seat, quickly checked the bandoleer and spear, and turned to the others. "Is there anything else to note before you lead us to the morgue?"
"Oh joy. An idealist." Dr. Grey sniffs a little and turns away from the woman, finding her suddenly less interesting despite all the information she probably had on the case. In an almost wry tone he adds, under his breath yet loud enough to be heard, “Gods and Goddesses save me from idealists.”
"I'll leave the... talking... to one of my collegues here. When I was younger I tried to study the art of lying, but no matter what I did, I never seemed to get the hang of it." Grey spoke rather nonchalantly, though there was some whimsical curiosity to it that said he honestly had no idea why people wouldn't take his word for things or trust him. Was it more unsettling that he was unaware of how unsettling he was? 'She had found my inability to lie endearing... said it kept me honest...' The Doctor looked away from the group for a moment, letting his smile be something he could keep to himself. When he turned back to them he was just as condescendingly uninterested as always. "If there's something to learn on the body, I'll learn it. But to get the full extent of answers I'll need time without interference from the locals... or those weak of stomach amongst us."
Dr. Grey snorts at actually being referred to as a doctor. Along with the small, rather cruel smile from the night before, it was the only show of amusement that the gaunt man gave. The brief sound didn't seem too kind either, but none of his distaste was directed at Miranda.
Dr. Grey tilts his head to the side and listens intently to the woman's words. Every bit was a piece of the puzzle they'd be presented, every scrap of info he could gather up useful. "I am quite good at examining bodies. If given a bit of room I should be able to determine much. And it seems..." Dr. Grey looks toward the shorter woman, Miranda, with a flash of curiosity in his eyes before his expression fades to the more distant and detached that it normally was. "I'm not the only one." Despite having just eaten a great deal, Dr. Grey didn't seem at all concerned with the idea of examining a dead body. In fact, after speaking, he reached into one of his packs and pulled out what looked like a small set of knives with extremely fine blades. It was in a small pouch, and he examined each for a moment before stowing it away again.
Dr. Grey was one of the later ones to come down. This didn't surprise him, though despite what little time he had left he was quick to order a very large meal. Unlike the day before, where he had worn his clothes, or the night where he had worn his chain shirt beneath, Dr. Grey was fully outfitted today. A long spear rested on his back wrapped in a leather sling of sorts. Across his chest were several vials in a thin bandoleer. There were covers for each, but people had a chance to see one of the vials as he was closing the cover to it. It was glowing. As always, he did have his glasses on though. He was quick to size up the others, seemingly surprised at the presence of one or two of them and unsurprised at some of the others. When food arrived, he was quick to devour it. He only had enough for three men this morning, apparently still sated from the meal the day before.
The morgue... Are you just trying to make it easy for Grey to unnerve people?
Grey's ready to advance.
Yes! That would be awesome! Just don't bring Grey along. I'm not sure he'd care enough and he's so bad at diplomacy he might make others fail by proxy.
"Whether or not there is a 'super cult'," Grey begins, having listened enough to think he knew how he would decide, "These events are unusual and right down our alley's. If you do not believe for certain, but still think something odd of the events they speak of, you can always hold your opinion on such things until you find proof of your own. So far, they have not connected the events for us with names or evidence, so it might be they want us to confirm it for ourselves or perhaps they simply can't, knowing this cult exists by what is not there and a gut feeling. Either way, there's definitely something to hunt down in this city. If you're right, and there is no one group, there are possibly several somethings." Grey pushes his chair back and starts to stand, wishing he had thought to get more food. He looks to the others in the group briefly, as if to try and figure out what they might do. Then he shrugged and made his way upstairs without giving his answer. He knew what it would be and they had already told him the best way to answer their question. Now it was time for bed. It sounded like he would need the rest.
I think mythic achieved through different means could be cool. For some it could be, not godhood, but simply a goal. Alchemists such as Dr. Grey could be enhancing themselves. Mages or Monks could be on their way to enlightenment or vast knowledge. Warriors could be simply more, because they need to be. And I haven't ready any of the Pathfinder Novels. I read pretty deep into the Drow series before giving up on the books. (I guess I read them in the wrong order cause every new series he seemed to be relearing an old lesson and the other old lesson he had already relearned was obsolete.) I've been more on a Web Serial kick these days.
Dr. Grey actually laughed, setting down the empty bowl that had been in his hands for a few moments. The sound of the laugh was genuine but discordant all the same. "I meant share my research with the rest of the order, of course. It's not like my name could sway a publisher to print something for me, these days. That room sounds perfect. I am a trained physician too, so I'll make sure to keep a part of it stocked and ready for actual medical situations. It has been a while since I've worked with living sub-... patients." 'Other then myself that is.' The correction was probably too late to undo the harm, but it was more for himself anyway. A gentle reminder that living 'patients' were not to be studied, just fixed. Tedious, but likely of some value to a group like this when divine magic was needed for other things. He gave a small smile again, but this one was most decidedly fake. It was meant to be polite, to put others at ease, but either he was so bad it didn't make a difference or he hadn't practiced it in a long time. Beneath those overly reflective glasses of his, the smile was simply unnerving. Or perhaps insulting. The good doctor leaned back, apparently content with where his negotiations had gone. He didn't seem suspicious, or he simply didn't care, if the group before him was actually what they said they were. Still, he hadn't actually said yes yet either, had he?
Dr. Grey tilted his head to the side. Undisputed access to any specimens he encountered was something he already enjoyed as a private contractor in his field, which meant they weren't offering much other then a continued status quo there. Despite the fact that he hadn't done so in a long time, and definitely not without a bit of help, Grey heard a voice urging him to barter. Never except the deal that was on the table until the person across from it was only just happy enough to be done. "I think you misunderstand. If all I'm to face is undead then useful specimens will be quite rare. Most undead are... Corpses. And there's little left to learn from those for me. I'll need a little... more then that if I'm to continue my work while joining in yours. An agreement that your other agents in the field will bring anything unusual to me... should it prove possible to do so without revealing themselves or risking themselves that is. And a room suitable to set up a lab to study them in, of course." He leaned back in the chair, one hand already reaching out toward the bowl in front of him. "In return, I can do a little to return the favor. On the days I don't hunt, I can turn some of my energy toward specialized potions, so long as the costs are covered, for any of yours that need them. In fact, if you find or have access to any wizards spellbooks, I can expand my repertoire and make that doubly useful. You may not hurt for resources, but there must be some limits to what you can get if you want to remain hidden..." He paused, then added as an after thought, "I'll also make any definitive findings I've discovered available for all, useful should they ever encounter such creatures again." Potions. That had always been her specialty. He hadn't the skill she had, the knowledge, or even the drive to pursue it quite like she did. His interest had always been focused more internally, on the benefits his science could provide a person longterm. But he still could make them, and well at that. In fact, he had a few on him right now. Sharing his work would be a little annoying but it's not like they had his mind or tools at hand. They'd never be able to encroach on his territory, which meant he could continue his research without the issues that would crop up from it being more widespread.
"It explains why the expense to go so far afield." Grey added quite suddenly, caring little for who he interrupted with his words. "We are not just skilled in the task you seek to recruit us for, we are each of us far less likely to be one of these... secret society members that you are tracking. In fact, some of our reputations are disreputable enough to make it very unlikely." It was a simple thing, but it put a slightly less noble spin to their tale of seeking out talent. The ones besides Grey might very well be the best at what they do, but their value came as much from their separation from the dangers at hand as the skill they wielded. That separation, and reasoning, was dangerous though. Even subconsciously, the group, order, or whatever they called themselves might carry with them for some time a nagging feeling that those they had chosen might be not as worthy... or perhaps disposable. At least in the short run. None of this deterred Grey. Even if his guesses were completely on the mark it showed competence in leadership he thought was rare. "All of that said, my interests lie in research that can be gleamed from what I hunt. This groups organization and skill is certainly not the norm but undead in general are rarely... valuable specimens."
Not to mention... *awkward glance at Dr. Grey* ... there are plenty of people who are not evil that still reaffirm that sort of thought process. Magic is dangerous. Just like guns are common now a days, but can still make people wary (and rightly so). I think if he was completely against magic of all kinds it'd be a little weird in a world of magic. But cautious of it? Wary of those who use it? That could be understandable. And as I mentioned, a magic user doesn't have to be evil to prove that suspicion entirely warranted. We'll also probably face enough things that are magical or the by-product of magic to make it sustainable too. 'G%% d#~mit. Another zombie. Magic makes this possible, you know.' I would like to point out though that one of the party members happens to be a scientist, not a magic user. @Miranada: I think, if Spooky's okay with it, I already have an idea for what she'll see if she manages to snag his classes from him. It won't be easy if she tries to steal it, but the good Doctor is a very curious man, so perhaps there's another way?
Dr. Grey considered the implications of the offer very carefully. At the same time, he considered what he recalled of nobility in the area. And at the same time he was doing both of those things, he also considered what it'd be like if he could convince a noble to start funding his research. Being a man of quite the sharp mind, he did these things simultaneous, though he didn't really feel the pride in being able to do so that he had once felt. Rather then speak first, Grey decided to remain quiet and let the others have a go. He had his concerns, and to the many in the room who were combat trained he still looked ready to spring out of his chair at any moment, but he made no move to either reply or start attacking just yet. Because, though he was worried, indeed recalling the one time a vampire he had hunted sought to trick him by pretending to be a hunter, Dr. Grey was a perhaps dangerously curious person. The situation didn't just intrigue him. His mind was a whirl with possibilities, so much so that despite having accepted nothing yet, the gaunt man in his brown plague coat and loose spectacles wore a rather small, but unnerving, smile.
Dr. Grey was one of the first to be ready but one of the last to descend. The first part was relatively easy since all of his clothing, even his armor, was laid out quite carefully on a nearby table within the room. It took him only moments to dress. He eyed the longspear briefly, but decided against it. A trap, if there were one, would involve everyone in the inn. Hiding his trump card would only cause him problems at this point. The fact that he was expected made sneaking down a non-option, so as calm as a man walking down the street mid-day he strolled down the steps. As he was want to do, the good Doctor likely offended half this curious patronage with a look. His eyes surveyed them looking for threats or curiosities and those he thought were neither got a dismissive sniff, if that. The only people he actually seemed interested in were the gnome with the clockwork spider the paladin, so perhaps more then half the room. He pulled one of the seats near the edge. He wasn't sure about the abilities the others possessed but were he of the need, Grey would need freedom of movement to act quickly. Curiously, he has chosen a seat across from the guardswoman, someone who had been so readily passed over by his eyes it was still uncertain whether he knew she was there. Grey said nothing, the better to listen. Finally his eyes settle on the noble man.
I played in one for about a week! It died off pretty quickly, so I have no idea what sort of flavor or theme or tone it had. Same for the other horror game I played though this one died in a single session (it was a real time meeting over AIM).
Dr. Grey had, seemingly at random, simply stopped conversing. It wasn't exactly typical behavior for him but few things were. When he came too, the others were already leaving, and he was only now processing some of what had been said. Miranda seemed oddly skilled, as he had noted while he was thinking the image in her milk. It hadn't meant anything to him, as he had little knowledge or care of local dealings below a certain line of wealth or status. Ontop of whatever she was able to pluck from items at hand, Grey knew he would have to keep careful watch on his things, lest she learn something best left unlearned by most. Laurence, an apparent acquaintance of hers, seemed trusting enough to believe that someone arranging such cloak and dagger meetings would be honest in other ways. And the rest all had their own curiosities. Curious. That was what Grey would describe it all as and that was certainly what he'd describe himself as. In the end, he retired as the others began to, seeing little need to stay in the common room. As he had promised himself he did check the small sampling of stew for poison before going to bed, more out of boredom then any real suspicion. Despite his original plan to stay awake all night, the possibility of facing danger meant he'd require his energy over the next few days. To create extracts and... other things. Which necessitated sleep. However, he did decide to keep his spear beside his bed, opposite the door so it could not be seen. He wasn't exactly skilled with it but in a pinch it would do, and serve far better then his other options would where people might see him.
Will be posting shortly. Sorry for the delay.
Grey looks toward 'Laurence' and cocks his eyebrow. For a brief moment he gives the impression of a man who was in conversation and wasn't taking well to being interrupted. Rather ironic considering that's what he had done. But a moment later the expression passes and he's distant again. "I earned it rather easily in at the University of Delta." He fixes his glasses and seemed like he might have been about to go on, but then Miranda speaks, and his eyebrows rise again as his face becomes animate with curiosity. He follows her to the table and watches her method, but until she finishes he does not interrupt. It was a small, but professional, form of respect from one learned person to another. "Fascinating... you saw so much... I wonder if such could be distilled... There are rumors of some more savage... Goblin tribes who use the roots of a plant for visions." Again he was mumbling, mostly to himself, but the mention of goblins seemed to be of curious note in his words. It was an attempt to learn more about the smaller woman while also trying to work things out in his head. Why do one thing when you can do two just as easily? After a few moments he seems to shake free of his reverie and turns toward the table. "This is a kind place. Warm. The atmosphere is welcoming, purposefully so, and the woman who see's to people is friendly. But it is clearly not the 'finest' in the city. At least not from a professional sense. The word... finest... It reminds me of the time before I became a noble. Places I went to when I could afford better, simply for the familiar and comfortable environment. Perhaps he was not born into but earned his status? It's a possibility this place is familiar to him in a pleasant way, such as a tavern he frequented before he became wealthy." He pauses, then nods slowly. Aside from the curiosity about the answers she had uncovered, his voice was as empty as always. Not even a hint of whimsy or nostalgia in his tone despite speaking of his own past. It was very... clinical. "But mistrust is a good reason too. Often the right one."
Dr. Grey neither leaned in nor leaned away from the toothy smile or the points. His mind briefly considered the possibilities. Half-orc, perhaps? Though in that case the toothy smile would have come from filing the teeth. Goblins had naturally sharper fangs given their diet but even then... The mystery of what she was continued and grew when she turned to study the letter on the counter. "It serves quite well as a neutral form of greeting." Grey agree's with a slow nod, recalling his social research before his current life had taken hold. His tone even suggested he agreed with her... yet he made no move to correct his lack of greeting all the same. Instead, he watched her intently when she studied the letter, though her voice surprised him as he assumed she was doing something that required concentration. The man went on in that quiet voice of his, neither loud nor urgent. "My peer's knew me as Dr. Grey or simply Grey, depending on how familiar they felt with me. I saw little difference between either nomenclature myself. Have you a manner with which to study it? My own chemical analyses did not pick up anything strange with the paper or ink." He fixed his glasses again as he spoke, the spectacles apparently more stubborn then the doctor in deciding to slide down his nose. That either meant that there was nothing strange about the letter or it was too subtle for his senses to pick up. Considering how much he had to dilute or change something to make his own, fairly specific, supernatural sense study something it was also possible the process destroyed whatever magic was inherent in either. Oddly enough his normally unsettling tone grew a little excited with the question, as if the idea of discovering more had unearthed actual emotion in him. It put a stark contrast to his normal way of speak and made it easy to figure out that part of what was so disquieting about his speech was that it was normally devoid of such things.
So apparently Doctor Grey's statblock listed him as a level 1 commoner for a while. Heh. Whoops. Fixed now. As far as his extracts go, there doesn't seem to be enough room to list them all. Instead I'll post a list, like the one that will be below, of what he has prepared. I'll just keep track of the amount used via the bar and the stat block using the * key that I've set up in it. His current, and typical, extract list will have... 1st lvl: Expeditious Retreat x2, Heightened Awareness x2, Negate Aroma x1
Grey had stopped studying the group now. He had seen enough to know that some knew others, they had all received letters, and they were going through the boring introductory phase. How dull. A couple commented on the lights but offered no theories as to their origins, disappointing the Doctor further. He sighed and closed the book he had been pretending to read, one he had actually already memorized and simply kept for moments where he wanted to be discrete, and instead stood. He thought about moving over to join the growing group and briefly weighed the pro's and con's. The fact that some were already drinking or preparing to was disconcerting. Hardly professional behavior. Instead he went to the small woman instead. At the moment she seemed to be the most curious, and admittedly the puzzle of her eyes might have been making him biased in this choice. His voice was low, rather soft, and somehow despite not carrying a single word of insult seemed a little contemptible. "It seems, with many of us gathering here on this day, that it is likely all those invited will arrive shortly. If they have not already. I imagine we'll be hearing soon from our soon to be... employer." Those cold eyes in that sunken face moved from the far wall down to the woman he had heard called Miranda, studying her the way he had the vial. "Have any insight to offer on this mysterious fellow who would summon us?"
I actually plan on doing two aliases for Grey. The mutagen thing doesn't affect -that- much but it will become more and more thematically appropriate, and in addition will probably make your life easier since you won't have to search through my posts for what sort of buffs he'll be getting.
"Mild saturation... likely invoked by external energies..." The man muttered as he swirled the stew vial in front of him, then uncorked it and touched a single drop to a calloused finger, raising it to inspect closely with his eyes. "Natural energies..." The man sighs as he realizes it was about what any natural stew would have, which was basically nothing, at least not in terms that most people understood. He rolled his eyes and corked it again, still certain he should test it for poison later. Never know with these kinds of jobs. "Have I ever had a job like this?" He asked himself aloud, realizing that he actually hadn't. Which wasn't unusual he thought. It came with the territory. Hunt things people don't think is real and then be considered crazy by those same people. Never mind that when he left a town they likely had less disappearances, it wasn't really important. His research had little to do with lives and everything to do with taking the right ones. He eyed the others as they gathered. If this was a trap by a particularly clever or connected creature, such as those curious undead with the tendency to drain blood, then a strike would likely come at night while they all rested. He wondered how much of them had considered that possibility? How many of them would be staying up tonight rather then sleeping, waiting for the potential trap to be sprung? Or was it a possibility or simply hubris to think such a creature would go to such lengths? The doctor's eyes went to someone coming down the stairs. Someone he had seen upstairs earlier. He seemed ordinary enough, really, unlike the rest. In particular the short woman intrigued him. The way her eyes shone and her mouth seemed to stretch brought curious possibilities to mind. Half-orc perhaps? Painful coupling to be sure, for the halfling at least, but it would explain the wine red eyes and unhinging jaw. Perhaps goblin blood instead? More and less likely for different reasons. Curious. His fingers twitched but he stopped himself from wondering what made those eyes so red. It was starting to be a habit when looking at people with oddities and it while it was harmless, really, he was certain that it would cause him trouble once people learned about his... hobby. Certain because it had. How many times had he actually been accused of the disappearances? Twice, he thought with a condescending smirk. Ingrates. And when he showed them the body to try and escape a lynching they would claim it fake. Idiots, most people were, to ignore what hid in the shadows. To be fair he had been one of them once. It only occurred to him in just this moment that he was sitting in a tavern that now had, as he had counted, at least five other individuals who knew what stalked the night. Bats and men not withstanding. He was sitting near five other possible peers. Perhaps they had notes they'd be interested in comparing? Would he share his own? Probably not, unless they offered equal trade. A paranoid habit from his days as a research, perhaps, but one that translated well into this dark new world he had jumped into. Never knew if the thing you were sharing details on how to kill a monster with was said monster in disguise. How many times had that happened? Well, none of course, largely because he had killed them before they could change shape. It came as no shock to Dr. Grey that he had been sitting there for a good three minutes simply staring at the new comers. That didn't bother him, really, nor did what they thought of him. What bothered him was three minutes wasted when he could have been observing. He fixed his glasses, which had again slid down his nose somehow despite it being a slight crooked, and his eyes focused on them once more. Thoughts of what to do about them were pushed to the side for the moment.
Ah, sorry. I gotta read things a little more closely. Been sick all last week so my minds still a bit foggy. This rp time before the game actually worked out in my favor in that regard.
Grey was surprised by the food and the warmth of the dwarf. The food, first off. It was good. And there was a lot of it. The fact that his unspecific request had been met with more then less and it was good was surprising. He was used to getting the stale stuff for some odd reason. Better yet, the fact that he even noticed how good the food was was in itself odd. Grey rarely paid attention to such things and when he was certain the Dwarf woman wasn't looking he pulled out a vial and procured a small sample, curious to find out if he had been poisoned somehow. Later of course, there was more food to eat. If he was poisoned it was already done, might as well enjoy it. The kindness of the hostess was also unusual for Grey, who was used to curt and direct treatment from those he dealt with. It was also a little uncomfortable. He bit his tongue twice when she came over to make sure he was enjoying his meal to avoid demanding to know why. Even he knew that would cause him trouble and trouble was best avoided until he knew who his mysterious benefactor, so interested in his talents, was. Each time he had been unspecific with his request, simply asking for 'more' in that curt manner he always seemed to speak with. It didn't seem to matter what was placed in front of him, it got eaten. By the end of it, even Grey was starting to feel a little full, and he had certainly eaten enough meals to feed half a dozen people much stouter then him. It was around this time, while he was scribbling in his notebook and working on his last meal, that the two new others entered. One was clearly from out of town, or at least that was what Grey would guess being from out of town himself, and he had walked in with the other. Curious. The fact that they asked for rooms supported his theory that the letter he had received was going to intrigue at least a few others. In his line of work he had only 'enjoyed' brief encounters with other hunters and vigilantes like himself. What could be so dire that a group is needed? It puzzled Grey, but not in the way that inspired fear. He was curious, deathly so, and was eager for this meeting to finally arrive. The good doctor, his food done, reached into the pocket where he has stowed the vial of soup. He couldn't tell if it was poisoned, what with the food itself being in the way factor, but he did have some advantage. He eyed it curiously as he swirled it around in front of him, searching for any sort of unnatural energy, even latent amounts. To anyone else watching, he looked like a gaunt man carefully studying a small, thin glass container of stew.
I meant the city names and details. Small hints here or there. Also the birds. Might be I missed a few things thanks to my bloody fever this week but I'm not worried, just excited and curious. XD
Man, there's apparently a lot of names already floating around. Did I mistakenly miss a big chunk of it in the recruitment or did this come up with the DM while you guys were building characters?
Hrm... Necril, the language of the Undead, Sylvan, the language of the Fey, and Infernal. Two useful, one longshot, all of them full of flavor. XD
Oh! I knew I forgot something. Would you recommend any obscure languages, DM? The only thing I'm planning is Necril. I've got two more to pick after that.
The gaunt man seemed to be a little less unfriendly when he took the key back off the counter. Perhaps it was her nice demeanor. More then likely, it was the mention of food. His metabolism was extremely efficient these days but that only helped so much. In truth, he still needed much more food then the average person. The smile he gave the dwarf woman was likely a little unsettling for the fact that it was actually happy. For some reason, it was a disturbing look on the man.”Have a meal prepared. Whatever is just coming out will do.” The thin, tall man made his way quickly upstairs to his room, spent five minutes looking for traps, and then set his larger bag down. Keeping the smaller bags he returned to the Tavern downstairs. A half an hour later, he was still there and still eating, likely on his fourth or perhaps fifth serving. He didn't seem like he was going to be slowing down but there was no real way that he was eating as much as he was. It didn't seem entirely possible. The fact that he ate rather messily, yet still his clothes seemed to come out looking clean, was another confusing part as well. It wasn't until midway through his seventh serving of a full on meal though that he seemed to finally wind down. This meal he ate as normal, slowly, enjoying the taste. He propped open a book during it and would pause every now and again to scribble a line or two in the book. Others attempting to read it over his shoulder would find the task quite difficult, as the page was an odd mix of letters and numbers that seemed to be largely gibberish.
The door opened to admit both the light of the cloudy day and the sight of a rather odd figure. Standing at 6'3 and as thin as a man who had never eaten in his life, the gangly fellow with a long brown coat and the clothes of a scholar entered the inn. When the door shut behind him, closing of it's own weight, the light of the tavern reflected off of his glasses, making it hard to see his eyes behind the circular spectacles. The large pack on his back, along with the several smaller ones around his waist, clicked and clattered with every step he made toward the counter. When he stopped and lowered his gaze, those glasses of his slid down his nose a little, revealing pale blue eyes. His hair, which had looked almost black in the contrasting light of the doorway, was now clearly a ruffled and unkempt brown mop on his head. Looking up, one could see the tall lanky fellow had a few days worth of fuzz on his chin as well, and not the kind that could cause people to mistake it for shadow or think it endearing and roguish. Despite the perfectly clean coat, quite nice really, and the scholarly clothing beneath, he looked... homeless really. The man reached into his pocket without any ceremony and brought out a key, placing it on the counter. ”I'm expected.” He said, his voice curt and brisk, his eyes already leaving the dwarf woman as if she found her uninteresting. They swept over the bar, just as they had when he had walked in, to take in the typical patronage. Nothing out of the ordinary within, though outside the lights were curious. He would have to look at his books to see if he could figure out what it was. Simple light refracting off mist high above the city or potential magical energies being directed through confluences. He glances back down to the dwarf woman, and even though it's only been a moment he asks in a slightly impatient voice, ”Room number?”
@Miranda + Everyone - It's possible, but not likely, that anyone would have met him before he started hunting. Unless they needed a doctor and couldn't afford magical healing, in which case he was a pretty well known one alongside his wife. Outside that, he tended to run in different (That is to say no) social circles. I would say the best bet would be meeting him on a job, but then again, it might just add to his creepiness if no one has. XD
Yo! Checking in. I believe Grey is actually done so no worries about finalizing. XD If anyone has ideas toward a brief meeting with Grey I'm open to it.
Alright, Dr. William Grey is now updated with a Statblock. It has everything from his abilities to his background. There was another there for a while, please ignore that one, it was a character that never had the chance to get off the ground. Edit: If you get the chance critique would be nice. Even if I get in with what's there I'd like to improve this guys backstory and character as much as possible.
Background:
Born to a simple farming village in a simple far away town, one would think that William Greyson was destined to be much like his father or mother, or their fathers or mothers, or theirs and so on and so forth. Plain. Ordinary. Farmers, midwife's, the occasional merchant. But William was born odd.
At the age of five, his parents caught him reading all on his own. The book was one about the human body, a text that his mother was struggling through to be a better midwife. He apparently understood it quite easily. His mother and father never did figure out when he learned to read but as he got older it became clear that he had a voracious intelligence. Books became a common household item, borrowed from the local temple on weekly trips. He studied many things, but his focus was always on, curiously enough, biology. He was around the age of ten that his parents found him dissecting animals over books in the forest near their house. He had been catching small critters with traps or chasing and cutting them open with a small hunting knife he had found. The sight was certainly disturbing but no amount of explanation could make the child understand why it was wrong. In the end, the parents were forced to punish him and simply tell him not to do it again. Will, for his part, was ultimately confused but not deterred. By the age of fourteen, William had apprenticed himself to the local healer and his research had grown ever more important to him. His parents didn't know about his desire to learn more about the body in the most gruesome ways. He had learned his lesson at ten. No, they thought him 'fixed', his oddities gone, and his ambition on track. Town healer was an important position after all. The temple in their village rarely had clerics visiting and the people of the village couldn't afford magical healing. He, thus, surprised them by leaving at the age of Sixteen. He gave no forwarding address and left no hint as to where he was going. William Grey, as he began to call himself to distance himself from his family, arrived in the capitol of his nation ready to change the world. Under one arm, his Formulae book, the experimental study of Alchemy having born some success. In the other, all the money he had. Enough for a single, small basement for a month. By his calculations that was all he would need. Grey spent the day preparing his presentation in his new basement apartment. The next day he went to those he had written letters to and in front of their very eyes showed them something they had never seen before. Magic without magic. He created for each of them a single potion, in front of their very eyes, and did so without the barest slivers of magical talent. He told each of these fine nobles that he could recreate this whenever he wanted. Admittedly, as intelligent as he was, Grey did have some blind spots. He was not expecting it when the majority of them laughed. What did it matter that he could create normally magical things through science? They had magic! In abundance! And no shortage of money, these nobles. The talented young man was disheartened. Each noble that refused him seemed to be another confirmation that his parents were right, that his odd nature was just going to leave him broke and destitute. It wasn't until he visited the last noble, someone he had almost overlooked during his research due to the mans lack of political influence, that things changed. First, the door was not opened by the noble himself, nor was it opened by a servant. Instead, it was opened his daughter, a young woman named Abigail Harding hardly a year younger then him. Second, as Abigail lead young Grey through the large mansion, he found himself looking at things that did not decorate a typical noble's home. Rather then artwork, he found himself staring at books. Hundreds of them lining dozens of shelves. Growing up on a farm, with naught but what could be scrounged from merchants who cared little for such things or borrowed from the temple, all of these books were a sight to behold. Grey was lead into a small study that looked like his own, if less refined and filled with more expensive garbage that people claimed worked. There he found the noble, Devan Harding himself, focused so intently on a single vial. Abigail gave Grey what might have been a conspiratorial look, then coughed to attract her fathers attention. He jumped, startled, and whirled to face them. Then his eyes widened and he whirled back toward the vial of liquid. It remained inert. He sighed. "Darn it Abby, I told you, no visitors while I'm working." The man sounded tired. Abigail gave Grey another look and the young man found himself actually paying attention to it this time. She was rolling her eyes. His studies indicated that was often meant as a sign of contempt. Yet she was also smiling. Teasing, perhaps? She smiled at Grey and then more so at her father. "It's Mr. Grey, father. The young man whose theories you've been trying to recreate because he'd likely get snatched up by one of those 'Gods forsaken vultures'." Devan Harding turned and looked at his daughter with a frown, not appreciating the language or the fact that she was merely repeating something he had said, then narrowed his eyes on Grey and studied him intently. His frown did not go away. Truth be told, Grey was used to that sort of look. Abigail's, which were so familiar and friendly, were by and far a rarity. Grey wasn't handsome by any means. He was tall, lanky, without muscle or fat. His skin was ever pale despite having grown up on a farm and his clothing was simple, focused on utility. The ragged mop of brown hair on his head only served to distract from his eyes. Those eyes often unnerved people, he was told. Despite having to wear glasses, an overt sign of weakness in the eyes, people had trouble meeting his. Devan had no such trouble. Then again, neither did his daughter. Perhaps he needed a larger pool of people to study from. As he was making this mental note Devan began speaking. "Ah, William. So good to actually see you. I honestly expected you to be offered a job long before you got to me. Come in, come in." William seemed like he was ready to stay at the edge, uncertain what social protocol he was dealing with, but Abby was having none of it. With a confidence born of something Grey had little understanding of she looped an arm around his and pulled him in, then directed him toward a seat. Will found himself taking it without even realizing he had decided too. Largely because he hadn't. "The majority of them seemed to find my presentation entertaining." Will began, his voice largely neutral with only a touch of the contempt he felt. "If their laughter was any indication. None of them seemed to realize what it was I was showing them." Devan raised an eyebrow at that and studied Will a little more closely. Then he nodded. "It's a sad world we live in where knowledge can be mocked so readily. Well, you have one more presentation. Are you ready?" Will looked at the lab that Devan had set up and made some calculations in his head. It took him maybe a minute to nod, stand and begin work. To his surprise both father and daughter watched over his shoulder with rapt attention, and Abigail asked as many questions as her father did, some of them even more important then what her father was focusing on. By the end of it, Will had created his last potion for the day. He turned to face the pair and showed it to them. Then, to demonstrate, he drew a knife across his arm. The pair were surprised and moved to stop him but he raised his hand until the line was good and visible. Then he raised the potion to them and drank it. The line faded before their wide eyes. The problem with Devan's set up was that it completely ignored magic all together, Will said. This seemed to be a counter-intuitive thought when Will had promised to create potions without magic, but the young lad explained that Magic was not the energy that suffused everyone. It was the talent, the ability to access it through will or study. The energy itself was like any other form of energy. Will's method allowed anyone with sufficient diligence to access it. Some would be more successful then others, but in the end, the difference was that it wasn't just a 'fluke chance' that let some people be born with inborn magical talent while others were not. Devon and Abigail both listened intently and once again both of them were asking questions. They both tested his knowledge and wit that day and by the end of it the three had become enraptured in a deep discussion about the possibilities. Grey went to leave, but Devon instead offered him a room to stay in. This surprised the young lad but he accepted anyway, honestly exhausted by the day's efforts. The next day, Devon officially became Grey's sponsor, and together with Abigail the three began researching different ways that the technique could be applied. Over the next four years, Devon was the one to uncover the potential it had with explosives. Abigail's research, surprising Grey, took his potions forumlae's further then he could ever take them himself. And with Devon's financial backing, Grey was able to study animals and create a concoction that changed the very nature of what it meant to be human. During this time Grey and Abigail grew close. Grey saw in Abigail a peer he had never thought to meet, someone with intelligence to match or even exceed his own. She made his days brighter and the time without her seemed dimmer by comparison. Abigail found Grey socially awkward, blunt, and basically everything that a noble would not be. At first that was all she found in Grey, but as time went on she began to fall for the man rather then the man he was not. The brilliant intelligence, the dry wit, the surprising shows of kindness to her when she fell asleep at her research table. Her father saw and while he didn't quite understand he did left the decision to her. Grey and Abigail were wed during their fifth year and as a wedding present Davon purchased for them a small but well equipped building on one of the main roads in the city. Here, the pair opened a shop, offering magical healing at half the cost as the temples and expert medical advice. Here, the two lived happily, with Grey always wondering how he had lived before Abby entered his life. Until... That fateful night three years into their marriage. A tragedy, it was called. A werewolf had snuck into the city one night and attacked a young woman. Many people, both in the noble circles and amongst the common folk, knew of Abigail Grey. She was a kind and intelligent woman with charisma to spare, who always made it a point to treat everyone she could. Everyone knew as well of her odd husband. The cold, rude, distant young man they all assumed she had been married off too. No one was surprised at how devastated he was when she succumbed to the disease. It was obvious he would never get so lucky again. No one was surprised either when the young Doctor closed shop and left the city. And when rumors began to circle of a similarly disheveled, pale young man chasing after ghost stories and rumors... well... You figure it out. After Abigails death, Doctor Grey seemed to change. His father in law, one of the few people who understood the lad almost as well as his daughter had, found himself unable to comfort Grey. He was too busy mourning the loss of Abby. And when Grey vanished from the city, Devan Harding found himself without his son too, alone. Unlike Grey, Devon's despair did not keep it's hold. The nobleman, if anything, became more driven then ever to see his families research change the world so that no other father would have to lose their daughter because 'the proper cure's' did not exist yet or because 'magic failed'. As for Grey? Well, the rumors weren't wrong. He began hunting Ghosts and shadows looking for answers. His question? That didn't seem very important. As time went on, Grey began to get a bit of a reputation. It was much less friendly then that of the expert Doctor he had once been. Doctor Grey, monster hunter. In truth, he did more then just hunt down the monsters that went bump in the night. He found their bodies to be quite an opportunity. A learning experience, if you will. Physical Description:
Doctor William Grey stands at 6'4 and weighs only 190 pounds. He looks like he weighs even less. His limbs seem long and gangly, his skin is pale and unhealthy, and his short brown hair is always a mess. He's almost always seen wearing glasses over cold blue eyes. A lot of times he forgets to shave, leave odd stubble that is neither neat nor roguish on his features. William is not handsome. During the day, William will wear simple travelers clothing that could be mistaken for Doctors Clothing. A long white coat, neatly kept, and comfortably sharp black clothing beneath. But at night, or when he's on the hunt, William wears an outfit that is much more eclectic. Harnesses filled with vials, a bag heavy with equipment such as vials and scalpels, a rope tied to a hook on his waist and a longspear that rises over one shoulder. And the glasses. Still the glasses. Despite his physical appearance Will is much stronger then he appears. He theorizes that this has something to do with his mutagenic concotion, that long term use has slowly changed his body's chemical make up. Other successful experiments have given him some what... disturbing abilities. At will he can change not only the color of his skin, hair and any other portion of his body but also the color of any equipment on him. He is currently working on enhancing the bodies natural ability to heal and has met with limited success as well. A cut or two will simply vanish in a day on him and he seems excited about a breakthrough coming shortly. Personality:
Doctor Grey is a cold and analytical sort. He rarely gets excited, startled, angry, afraid, or really anything. The few times he has been seen with any emotion on his face in recent days is when he's got a new specimen to study. He is not completely without humanity of course, but his focus is definitely on his research, and his research now a days is turned to the most disreputable of subjects. Outside combat situations this man is blunt and rude. He has little understanding of how to deal with others and doesn't seem very intent on learning. He does not mean to insult others, he just doesn't really care. This wasn't always the case. There have been in the past some few people who could bring out a less cold and disinterested side in him. Then he seems less insulting and more... awkward. Not quite shy but close to it. Mechanical Summary: Alchemist (Vivisectionist/Beastmorph) 5
Inspiration: Dr. Jekyll, Marcone, Mad Scientists everywhere (Seriously, he experiments on himself. Veeeeeeeery creepy. XD) Stat Block: Working on it now In combat-
Out of Combat-
Edit: His cold, detached nature and lack of interest in socializing are going to be a big part of his character. To be clear, I don't plan on playing him to be a dick to the party. I'm all for working together and so on and he's smart enough to see the benefits. But a Face he is not. I'll probably be getting some fun out of him pissing of NPC's and I can imagine there being a sort of animosity free 'stupid doctor' kind of stuff going around when he shows just how bad at he is with people. He can't compete with a rogue for all of the skill points they have but he can come close at 8 points a level. His extracts will also give him a limited 'spell batman' vibe. I plan on taking a few in particular that will be handy for several different situations. If anyone has a request for extracts he should get to make potions I'd be open to them.
There's a couple features for an eidolon evolution that can let you do fire damage and so on if you wanted too. Also, am I allowed to be annoyed that after I changed my concept three other people popped up to submit ranged characters? XD At least Umbra is original in concept... -nods- |