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Dran looks down at the note and sneers at both the note and Aglaeca "Why would I want to go out of my way to deliver that?" Again looking at the note sighs more to himself "fine. I shall be back before long" With that Dran grabs the note and tucks in into his belt and heads for the door of the inn and makes his way to find the lord
Stealth (1d20+5=18)
With a slight look of disdain etched on his face Dran urges his mount ahead and with a sneer " We waste enough time sitting here. Habber what such knowledge would you have and not shared with us" as the drow speaks you can hear a faint bit of sarcasm " your dear friends. Would you believe the people you travel with to be that weak?" He seems about to say more but instead closes his eyes and breathes deep. Dran thinks to himself "I must relax. I am more like my kin than I would like." As he breathes deep Dran fingers the hilt to his sword, the metal seeming to take the rage away and storing it.
Realising these are not a threat Dran sighs quietly to himself and stays in the back of the group not really feeling up to conversing with total strangers. He instead draws his blade and begins to inspect it making sure there is no nicks in the blade or other damages. That done he returns the weapon to its sheath and leans up against a tree and crosses his arms
Dran glares at Aglaeca, the drow appearently not liked being refered to as bait and says " Watch your tongue tiefling. I have slit the throats of many a creature for lesser insults. I do however like the idea of the two groups. Most men do not trust the likes of my kin, therefore another so gifted with words should be up in front" With obvious sarcasm Dran grins at Aglaeca. The grin appears almost evil as his dark eyes remain like slits. He then loosens the hilt to his sword and takes a tight grip on his shield and continues " dont worry I will watch your back."
Dran will also take the gold and silver as well as the necklace and place it into a seprate pouch to be divided up to the group at a later time. He then hopes on his mount and takes point
As Dran inspects the loot picked up he looks at one of the heavy shields and back to his own light one and decides to discard his old shield to pick up the newer and more armored one
Dran sheathes his blade and begins to search the bodies looking for any clues as to where the rest of the kobolds are located as well as grabbing any valuables and throwing them into a pile to be sorted out
Dran, still in the cover of his dark cloud, takes a step to the SW and flanks the kobold and calls upon the power of his sword as the fighter attacks with sure strike. As his attack ends the cloud dissapates Attack (1d20+10=30)
Dran quickly dismounts and draws his sword and shield and moves to engage the kobolds in melee but just before he attacks, the dark elf mutters a single arcanic word and a black cloud eminates seemingly from out of no where
Dran chooses a black steed that appears to have the same disposition as the drow. When Dran hops on the creatures back, he leans down and whisper words in elven in the hoarse's ear and the hoarse lowers his head as if he understood what was being said and his temper seemed to have cooled a bit. With a quick adjustment of his sword and shield, urges his mount forward as the fighter takes point heading to the middle of the road. As he does so Dran takes note of his surroundings with one hand on the reins and another casually fingers the red hilt of the bastard sword on his hip.
Dran turns to the old man and says rather irritable " Unless you have something of usefulness about the kobold problem leave me or..." the drow trails off as he catches sight of Aglaeca and a lord of some sort engaged in a conversation. As the conversation comes to an end Dran leaves his current table and heads over to meet Aglaeca and after asking him what that was all about, the drow walks over to the lord with an air of confidence and superiority. As he walks Dran keeps a hand on the red handled sword at his waist. When he reaches the lord Dran takes a bow and introduces himself " The name's Dran Cutthral. Master swordsman and hunter. I guarentee to get the job." Dran's tone is a serious one and leaves no question as to his skill to carry out any task
Dran says nothing as the group goes about its business on finding out information on the kobolds, he continues to drink his ale almost seemingly not caring one way or another. The drow's eyes, however, dart this way and that taking in the patrons as well as listening in on some of the conversations going on around him Perception (Sight) (1d20+1=4)
"Kobolds heh" Dran responds into his drink. Taking a deep pull off the mug Dran adds flatly " we will do what we can but expect to be well rewarded for my efforts"
Once at the inn Dran immediately buys a couple nights at inn and heads to his room and removes his armor and weapons and takes a stretch and gives a yawn. Donning his traveling clothes, Dran sits on his bed and begins to polish his armor and his sword. That task complete Dran dons his armor and weapon and heads back out into the common room and grabs a table and waits for his companions to join him. Might as well grab a plate of food and a mug of ale before getting to work.
"Hmm sounds intresting. Besides I could use a break from this festering city. Count me in" Dran responds as he continues to drink his ale
Dran heads up to the bar and orders a fresh mug of ale and picks up a chair and checks to make sure its not broken and takes a seat next to the half elf and says "Heh, some party" and takes a swig of his drink
Dran sighs as he heads back over to where his drink was and finds its contents spilled on the floor. What a waste of good ale the drow thinks to himself. Sheathing his blade, Dran checks his wounds over and just gives a shrug as he heads over to provide back up to Aglaeca.
In one fluid motion Dran stands up and draws his blade and shifts to J7 and before he attacks grips his sword even tightier and winces as if something sharp was biting into his skin. Even though he took some damage from this Dran just smiles at the ruffian and attacks him with his Sure Strike (1d20+10=16)
Dran continues to drink his ale and eying the thugs. Should things start to get violent thats when the drow will step in. Otherwise he is content to ignore and be ignored.
Seeing the thugs move about the room, Dran just gives what appears to be the slighest hint of a smile and slowly and discreetly places a one hand on the red coloered hilt of his sword and grips his drink with the other one and takes a swig. Eyes working the room as he plans his moe should the thugs attack
Dran gives Marcus a slight nod and orders a round for those who are at the table. Paying the barwhench he salutes the table and takes a long pull from the mug.
Emerging from the shadows, what at first appears to be a pale skin elf, is actually a drow comes to take a seat next to the half elf.
"The names Dran Cutthral" hearing the half talk about making a living Dran adds "Aye Im of the same sword so to speak. In my travels here I have found that there is great wealth to be had here but only for those who can learn to work together" This coming from a drow seems a bit odd. It would seem that though his race is that filled with hatered, this one seems to be more tolerant of outsiders than most.
here we go just need to add backstory
ive got the sheet made just gotta copy it over hoping to have by end of tomorrow maybe sunday (wife have like 8 holiday lunches/ dinners to head off to |