Emile still lopes forward, cackling and tormenting the nearest gnoll, a lone bug flying out of her rasping, shrieking maw.
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Emile stands completely erect in place and lets out a demoralizing shriek in the direction of the remaining hyenas, her cloak falling down.
Emile continues on all fours, skittering toward the woman in red.
She drops down to all fours to signal this, rattling off a series of numbers and meandering forward on the trail.
After a long night of sleeping hunched and with eyes wide open and glassy, Emile is spritely. She eats her ration like a ravenous beast and trails directly behind James, doing all she can to lead him to the place they spoke of in an ultimately valiant -but futile- effort.
Emile sniffs at the air and re-cloaks herself.
Sorry, guys. Back now.
Emile lets out another rattling hiss, a bug crawling out of the side of her mouth.
Emile lets out a weird hiss and studies their foe.
Emile had slept the entire night with unnatural eyes wide open, and awoke to move like a spider through the group. Unless stopped, she helps everyone clean up camp without their permission, binding bedrolls and folding blankets.
Emile waves at the fleeing bowman before following after the others. She isn't overtly concerned by a lone rogue wandering the wastes.
"That would be nice. Trees should be alive." Emile says, approaching until she stands in Silver's shadow.
The instant the party leaves town, Emile removes her cloak and lets her spider-leg and barbed-wire infested hair twitch in the open air. Her unnatural pale-green doll-like face with its wide-slit mouth are just as clearly visible as her night-black eyes, which appear to have pupils and irises modeled after buttons. Her neck is too long and narrow to be natural... but then again, what would people expect? Silver had already pegged her for a fallen, anyway. She fixes her posture and walks in a more dignified manner.
"We know the destinations, no? Then we are wasting time. To help."
Emile says nothing now, staring into the distance vacantly. She is grateful that there are so many others to make her errand easier in every single respect, save one.
Emile slowly walks after them like a malevolent shadow, unwilling to ruin the surprise about the mayor being a douchenozzle. When they arrive at the apothecary, Emile simply points to herself and says.
Emile shifts her attention back to the crow woman. With little obvious animation, she said, "I want to help. This place needs it, and I need to do it. Everything else pales and disappears."
Emile shifts uncomfortably in her chair, likely eyeing Copperbottom with trepidation. Again, the cloak makes it a little hard to tell.
"Why are you here?" asks the weird, hooded Emile. The words were rude, but the tone friendly. "Save for shelter, why would you be here?"
She pauses, then whispers yet again.
Never having answered James' question, Emile listens intently to the menfolk, grateful for the temporary diversion on the part of the gnome.
"This is not a good place. No, no. People try, but it is not."
In response to the coatted man: "I assure you this place is open, but a large group will better use the keep's time."
This done, she nods to the drow and makes her way inside, where she stands like a covered gargoyle by the door whilst Zander makes his introductions.
Emile can use curing wands, but our class selection really doesn't allow for dedicated healers.
Emile makes her way to the tavern sign, a wretched shape under a heavy hood. Not that any local wouldn't recognize the alchemist's assistant, with her boney, gloved hands utilizing the heft of a capped spear as a walking stick. The hood writhes slightly as the woman stops, watching a weird little man and his hulking machine enter the derelict establishment, prompting a wet, rattling laugh that turns into a cough. Once he moves aside, Emile is greeted with the sight of what appears to be a drow warrior. She bows onto one knee, revealing mottled, emaciated ivory flesh.
>.< Tomorrow is the day/moment/thing of truth.
Aaand she's pretty much done.
So. I drew and painted Emile today.
Steam wagon.
How are we doing hp again? First level max and roll after?
I would like to look at the class, thank you. And thanks for the url.
Nevermind. It's up there under mutant. /facepalm
I'd love to do a fallen, but I need a link to the crunch.
If it is too cliché, I could just have her be a compulsive liar whose actual origins are so boring they don't bear mentioning.
Cliche, I know.
Emile was raised by waste bandits and took part in some particularly vicious raids willingly. She used to be a sadistic biznatch who experimented on living things until she messed with a strange machine in the wastes and got 'reset', with a new personality and only vague memories of what happened before. She's usually a do-gooder now, though, and will subconsciously go to great lengths to avoid the truth of what she did.
Looking to be chirugeon alchemist with a shady past and selective memory. A healer, too, if you want one at all.
I find this behavior usually stems from a personal grudge. In my case, this happens when the gm's girlfriend bickers with him... To any character but his girlfriend's..
I have this love of strong, One Piece-esque bonds formed between characters. I also prefer that my adventuring party has a couple with one another even before they go adventuring. When possible, I like characters, then, to have met already when I start a campaign. A lot of people don't like doing this, and I think it has to do with character development, but there are some characters that don't mesh well if they don't have an established relationship. My discussion questions are thus:
How close do your parties typically get? Does this closeness or lack thereof alter your gaming experience? Have any of you actually had a game that functioned when the characters all hated one another's guts? (Mine only ended in bad blood between players irl, but I didn't tell them to hate eachother.)
Has anyone seen my weevil?
It becomes so. Unfortunately, you skin becomes so stimulated that it gains its own consciousness which bleeds into yours and takes over, apologetic as the skin is for having to erase your personality. I wish I could walk outside without fear of other humans.
Baleful polymorph can be hilarious... Never had a big bad defeated by the spell, but I had a big bad cast it on a player, thusly condemning him to a squirrely existence. The effects, in this case, were funnier than the villain that hatched them. I did once employ a lich who tried to explain an evil plan to a few standing pcs.
Have you ever been taller than Valeros?
You can do it, Tolvan!
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