In an attempt to make some relationship with the disgruntled man, Farak pulls out his father's cold iron rapier and hands it to Hargus.
"Be good to it my friend. This belonged to my father."
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Ready to go!
"Aye, that sounds fine to me. I'll appreciate a bit of rest before my watch."
"I would be honored to drink with all of you and toast to those fallen. And I hold no ill will, Kelden, none at all. You were simply curious. Now, should we try to find a way out of here?"
Farak looked at Kelden, ready to talk until the mention of his family. He became somewhat somber at that, but speaks anyway. "My family has worshiped the Lucky Drunk for generations. We come from a tribe of dwarves who fight here at the Worldwound in honor of Cayden Cailean." "As for family—I have none left. My father died while...fighting in the Worldwound." Farak pauses in the middle of that last sentence, like he wanted to say something different. "It is only me now to carry on the memory of my family."
Silently agreeing with the rest, Farak sets to praying (and drinking) in honor of Cayden Cailean. He walks around, trying to remove the filth from the area as he goes. I can honor my fallen brethren and the Lucky Drunk at the same time.
"Thank you, friend, and well done," Farak says, nodding to Kelden.
Farak grunts with pain as the creature's claws sink in. Steeling himself, though, he retaliates with a shout. "Vile creature! Cayden, guide me!"
Farak springs into action, studying the creature as his hammer swings downward.
Farak kneels down in a quick prayer for his fallen brethren. He takes a long swig from his flask, and then pours out a few drops in honor of the dwarves. "Such atrocities. We must stay steady though."
"Reveal yourself! This is not the time or place for silence!"
Farak looks directly at Hargus and speaks in a gruff voice. "We leave no one behind, and to think we should shows why you're not leading right now."
The dwarf then moves over to Anevia, and in a low voice he tries to comfort her. "We will be out of here soon—I know things seem strange, but we will survive. We have so far, and that's already impressive."
"Aye, I am intrigued," Farak says as he lowers his shoulder into the door.
"I am weak at range," the dwarf admits. "But I won't let it near you—bring it down." Farak readies himself in front of the group, hammer in hand.
As he moves into the room, Farak takes a drink from his flask before spinning his hammer in his hands, ready to strike at any moment. His gaze lingers on the structure in front of him, and he comments to his companions. "Aye, it is a structure honoring Torag, the gods of my people, though not mine. Be wary, though—this place is not normal."
Thinking for a moment, Farak responds. "I don't believe I do, m'lady. But I don't mind going in to check. Tie a rope to me if ye must."
Farak nods to Kelden. "Agreed. Like I said, let's not leave anything at our back that could wish us harm. This is a strange place we're in."
Farak would like to take some rations as well, since he had none on him.
Scanning the area, Farak speaks up. "Well, it seems that the only way forward is this way. Carry on then, it seems." He takes a swig from his flask, hefts his hammer on his shoulder, and begins moving past the stones.
At the talk of the healing potion, Farak shrugs. "Aye, I'm mighty tough, but this'll keep me standing longer."
Looking around, Farak voices his opinion. "As much as I'd like to be out of this place as well, I would hate to have something dangerous follow us. Perhaps would should check the path behind us."
Concentrate, Farak. Swinging once more, Farak comes close, but barely misses the roach again.
"Bastard bug!" Farak shouts, stepping back to flank with Kelden. He heaves his hammer once more, but misses badly.
"Foul beasts!" Farak roars, curing in Dwarven under his breath. His hammer is quickly off his shoulder, though, and flies toward the roach to the south. As the hammer sails wide of the creature, Farak curses louder than before. :
Perfect, thanks!
I'm having some trouble seeing the map. Am I missing something?
Farak moves toward the bed roll and looks at the surrounding area, trying to pick up tracks or anything else of note.
Farak studies the paths, and then speaks to his companions. "Aye, it looks like we're in the same boat either way," he growls. "The paths converge. But they're both going deeper, not moving toward the surface. We may not have any other choice though." The dwarf turns toward the northern path, and begins moving forward.
Farak studies the two paths, trying to find some indication of the right direction.
"If anyone needs help walking, I can certainly assist."
Well, let's see what we can find around here. Farak whispers a quick prayer to Cayden Cailean, and begins searching the area.
Farak goes over to help with the unconscious man. "I have no skills when it comes to healing, but I am stout and strong. I do what I can with the hammer on my back, and whatever the Lucky Drunk blesses me to be able to do it. I have seen demons, and I have been training my whole life to do battle with them."
Farak steps to the side to allow others some space, then swings down with his hammer.
Farak would prefer the Resistance or the Spiritual Weapon scale, though I'll take any. Also, I'm just starting a 10-hour drive, so if my turn comes up, I'd like to move off to the side and swing! Feel free to GMPC me!
As soon as he hears the twang of the bow strings behind him, Farak lurches forward, charging toward the spider. Guide my hammer, and allow me to become a drunken hero like yourself.
Farak waits for the first set of arrows to fly from behind him, and then charges the spider.
"Aye, m'lday, but don't make me wait too long," the dwarf growls. "This whole situation has my blood boiling."
Farak looks at the elf with a straight face. "I am either bold or crazy—none have yet discovered which. But aye, I will let your arrows lead."
As he looks in the direction of the spider, Farak reaches for the large hammer on his back. He takes a drink from his flask before stowing it away in his pack. "Let's not let this creature threaten us anymore. I will lead--let us dispose of it quickly."
Pleased to see the two followers of Sarenrae and the work they're doing, Farak approaches. "You're Kelden, eh? And you, m'lady? It seems that the gods have placed us here together for a reason, though I can't imagine what that reason might be," Farak says in his gruff dwarven voice. Farak extends his hand toward the to of them in greeting, taking a quick swig from his flask as he does so.
Farak rushes over to the other wounded, helping as he can.
Wiping his brow, he looks around at the carnage, trying to figure out a plan of action.
"Aye, show yerselves! I am Farak Ironsides, and I am a friend of our fine city."
Farak had just taken a deep swig from him hip flask when the demon appeared, and the dwarven stout hadn't finished its journey down his throat when the rift opened up and he began to fall. As his body made contact with the earth below him, he scrambled to his feet and immediately began to look for his flask, the one that had been his fathers. Finding it and taking another swig, he scanned his new surroundings. Cayden Cailean protect me, where am I? And these others—I think I recognize them. Light began to pop up around Farak, which calmed his nerves. Though he did not need the light, it was a sign that at least the others that fell weren't dead. Perhaps together they could survive this...whatever this place was.
"It's a good day to slay some demons!"
Here and ready!
Noticing the entrance of his fellow dwarf, Farak moves toward him. "Ahh, Goron. I see you've decided to grace us with your presence! Now, now, don't get too excited there Goron, we wouldn't want that smile to stick," the dwarf says, laughing heartily at his own joke. "But seriously, will ye join me for a drink? This fellow here has already bought a round for the whole place! A true disciple of Cayden Cailean, this one!," he says, gesturing toward Unegen.
When the unusually-dressed man orders a round for the bar, Farak perks up. "Ah, a man after my own heart, I see! The blessings of the Lucky Drunk be on you then—and bottoms up!" Farak drains his mug in one swift motion and immediately reaches for another, which appears in his hand almost immediately, supplied by the barkeep.
A somewhat slim dwarf bursts through the door, his red hair and beard dripping with sweat and a large hammer strapped to his back. Looking around and finding his target, he shouts over the din of the common room. "Kimroth! Can ye get me a drink? I'm mighty parched!" The dwarf laughs and strides over to the owner, patting him on the back.
Submitting Farak Ironsides, a dwarven inquisitor of Cayden Cailean. Stat block, appearance and personality, and background are in his alias. Good luck to all!
Alias of Seamus Greenbottle, this is Cayden Centros, a halfling cleric of the empyreal lord Sinashakti and member of a cosmic mystery cult devoted to the deity. I would be aiming for the Trickster mythic path (somewhat strange choice, I know). Let me know if you need anything else! |