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Checking in at last. I apologize for sort of stalling things out and disappearing. I've been dealing with pretty severe depression lately, which makes things, well, difficult at times. Anywho, I'm still around and trying to get back into things with some other games as well. Unfortunately the GM seems to have vanished too, so... Here's hoping things pick up again at some point.
From his position near Silarsha, Florian looks up from his book at Brice's call. Gazing out over the water, he quickly spots the dolphins. He watches them swim along in the wake of the ship. A small smile forms on his face. "Huh." He looks over at Silarsha. "You know, I'm not sure I've ever seen dolphins before. Certainly not like this." Florian looks back out at the dolphin pod. He leans over, one arm against the side of the ship, his head resting in one hand. "Nothing novel for you, I'll wager. Still, it's quite something."
Florian breathes a silent sigh of relief as the patrol ship captain returns to his ship and sails off. One burning question remains on Florian's mind, however; one which threatens to torment him the rest of the journey north. He meets eyes with Brice, one eyebrow cocked, hints of a concerned expression beginning to show. With a glance around, as if to be sure Kargeld isn't lurking nearby, he speaks. "Is that what you think merchants sound like?" Horror flashes in his eyes for an instant. "Is that what we sound like?"
Sitting quietly near the rear of the ship, Florian glances up from the small book he has in his hands. He looks first toward the bow of the ship; other than a few looks from the Ulfen sailors, they didn't seem inclined to give him many problems at the moment. He turns his gaze out over the stern, watching the slow, undulating movement of the sea, when he sees something that looks out of place. A ship, a patrol ship, gaining quickly on the Frosthamar. He curses quietly and jumps to his feet, replacing his book as he goes to find Odenkirk. "Captain? We've got company," Florian says bluntly. He points toward the approaching ship. "Talirean patrol ship, most likely. We've got maybe..." He pauses a moment. "Ten minutes before they're upon us. We can try to send them away without a fight, but I thought you ought to know."
Florian's first real excursion at sea goes only slightly better than he thought it might: though he managed to avoid any sort of motion sickness, it takes a few days for him to truly get his sea legs under him. Despite this he quite enjoys the idea of sailing and adventure at sea, and hardly takes notice of the smells or sounds that might otherwise disturb him. The young man wakes before even most of the sailors each morning, and in the early hours can be found sitting down in a quiet, out of the way spot. During these times he is hunched over, something clutched close to his chest, a blanket over his shoulders in order to hide exactly what is in his hands. The rest of his time Florian alternates between walking around the ship, reading, and speaking with the others, particularly his "wife". He is constantly assessing not only potential danger to the ship, but also the capabilities and habits of the crew itself.
Still here. Tumultuous few weeks, but still here.
Florian stands quietly beside Silarsha as the ship's captain goes to speak with Brice, trying his hardest not to act as hungover as he feels. He casts his gaze over the Frosthamar. Looks sturdy enough, though I'm no expert on ship construction. He glances over at Silarsha in time to see her appraising Odenkirk. Though unsure what she's actually thinking, he decides it wouldn't hurt to play around for a brief moment. Anything to distract him from his throbbing headache. "Come now, my dear," he says, his voice low and head tilted slightly toward the her. "Wandering eyes." He chuckles, evidently quite amused with himself.
Urgathoa is a proponent of eternal love, after all. Never did show off that doll, though. Lol maybe when Florian isn't completely trashed. Florian is going to go by Martin in this particular guise. It's probably a common enough name as to be utterly unremarkable. If Brice is changing up his appearance as well, then Florian is going to tailor his own disguised appearance to resemble a slightly younger and thinner brother. Vocal Alteration is going to provide some interesting options for disguises later on, I must say. And yeah, apologies again for the absence. Been getting some personal stuff squared away, so hopefully this week I'll be getting back into the swing of things. Also, here's a list of the spells Florian got. It should leave him 50gp total, I think. Spells: Adhesive Spittle Beguiling Gift Chill Touch Decompose Corpse Enlarge Person Frostbite Grasping Corpse Infernal Healing Interrogation Peacebond Restore Corpse Ray of Enfeeblement Sow Thought Shadow Trap
Just letting everyone know I'm still around, just had some stuff come up this week. I hope to resume normal posting in the next day or two.
Florian is mildly by the sudden appearance of Thorn and Tiadora, but can only think to give the two a nod and slightly drunken grin as they arrive, particularly to the devil woman. His eyes follow her a moment before he finally sits and looks away. He quickly grabs another glass and pours himself another drink.
Summoning. A devil, probably. He imagines that if he hadn't already tossed aside his sobriety, he might be able to recall what sort of devil that is. He watches the thrall torn apart with little reaction, sipping on his drink as it happens. When Thorn comes to him and anoints his forehead with some of the creature's blood, he says nothing. Florian simply closes his eyes and allows the sensation of pain mingled with strength and power to wash over him.
"Textiles, actually," Florian replies. His words begin to sound slurred as he speaks. "We've branched out some into commerce and a few other goods, but textiles are still our foundation." He stands and walks over to the bar, grabbing another bottle of wine and popping it open. He sniffs the open top and smiles before returning to the table to pour himself a glass. Florian grins and raises his own glass during the toast. "To us! May Talingarde rue the day it crossed us!" In a flash his glass's contents are gone, and the empty vessel is tossed at a far wall. It shatters into a thousand tiny shards in the corner. The young man laughs uproariously. "It seemed like fun," he offers by way of explanation. At Brice's mention of choosing spells, a look of realization dawns on Florian's face. "You know, I never did tell you all exactly how I learned magic. How I prepare my spells. All that." He smiles at the others, swaying a bit in his seat. "I should probably do that, you know, before we leave this place." He stares at the ceiling for a few moments, pensive. "After dinner, perhaps. I'd hate to ruin anyone's appetite." He blinks. "But, uh, no, I haven't heard anything. Maybe he'll tell us later."
"As do I, my dear," Florian chimes in, looking over at Silarsha. "Life is quite dull without being able to indulge the senses once in a while." As if to emphasize this, he begins piling a variety of different foods onto a couple different plates. He stops to inspect a few of the more exotic dishes, but grabs a few helpings nonetheless. "I'm not entirely sure what some of these things are, but I'm certain I've eaten stranger things." After a chuckle and a shake of his head, he begins eating. "Oh, and Brice," he says after a few bites, gesturing in the man's direction with one hand. "If you need any pointers on playing the part of a commoner, particularly a merchant, let me know. I have a little experience with that." Florian grins at the former nobleman before polishing off the rest of the wine bottle and tossing it to one side.
Florian arrives shortly after Brice does, wearing fine, fashionable clothing similar much like he'd worn his first day at the estate. He lets out a low whistle when he sees the feast laid out before them. "Well, well," he says with a grin. "The cardinal certainly knows how to put together a proper feast." And perhaps without some of the more... questionable dishes Urgathoans sometimes prepare. He eyes the food, though he sees nothing that really appears out of place. He grabs the nearest wine bottle and, rather than find a glass to pour it in, begins drinking directly from it. Florian gulps down about a third of it in mere seconds. Hand still gripping his bottle, he saunters over to Brice, Charmaine, and Grumblejack. "And a good evening to you all!" he greets them with exuberance as he takes his own seat. "Hope I'm not late for the festivities."
As the fight ends, Florian's reaction is somewhat subdued. The young man steps forward and looks closely at the remains of one of their defeated enemies. He frowns and shakes his head, displeased with something, then turns and walks away. As a group we've come a long way. More efficient, more coordinated. Not entirely pleased with my own performance on our little test, though. The mention of a feast brings a small smile to Florian's face, though it appears he's still mulling over the previous fight in his head. He simply nods to Cardinal Thorn, then walks back to his room, gesturing at one of Thorn's thralls to follow him as he does so. He has the thrall draw his bath and prepare his finery for the feast. Florian bathes and finishes his preparations for the evening's entertainment quietly, clearing previous annoyances from his mind. What was it the priestess would always say? he muses, chuckling to himself. Ah yes. Feed your pain. Once dressed and ready, he leaves his room and makes his way to the feast.
Works for me. Out of curiosity, is it possible to take 10 on those Spellcraft checks? I've looked around, and it's not entirely clear. It'd be an auto-success if I can, though. :D I'll start thinking what spells I want Florian to grab.
@GM: Given the slightly different nature of witch spells, would it be possible for Florian to grab some extra spells (presumably from scrolls) as well? There's not a lot else he can do with his gold aside from maybe making some alchemical stuff.
Florian arches an eyebrow at Silarsha and laughs lightly. He takes a sip, then throws a sidelong glance and a wry smile at Brice. "Dashing and well-groomed though I may be," he replies with a wink, "I'm not actually a nobleman. My family is a mercantile one. We're well off, but no titles of nobility." He pauses and looks up, thinking. "There was plenty of living well, honestly. Some time in cemeteries, too, though that served a few different purposes. Beyond that, lots of study of a variety of subjects. Mostly academic or magical in nature, of course. I'm hardly a paragon of physical prowess." He smiles and holds out his arms to emphasize this. "I'd help with the family business from time to time, but my father and eldest brother are the ones primarily responsible for that. It's just the two of them left besides me, so it kept them busy enough not to pay a great deal of attention to exactly what I was doing. They were probably very surprised to hear about me after my escape from the law." Florian leans back in his seat, his gaze still held steadily on Silarsha. "No duties like Brice or his family would have had." He shrugs. "No betrothal, either, for better or worse. I'd hardly say my life is uninteresting, but my stories probably aren't as good as yours."
Florian raises his whiskey glass in Brice's direction. "A man after my own heart!" He chuckles and takes a long drink. "Talingarde has been so reluctant to explore life's endless possibilities, particularly those that magical knowledge can bring." He looks over at Charmaine and smiles. "And remind me to keep an eye on my things around you, lest I be tricked relieved of them." The man's tone is humorous, indicating that this is obviously meant in jest. "Revenge..." he says, looking up at the ceiling as he thinks. Ice clinks against glass as he swirls his drink idly. "I'd certainly like to know how the Knights found out about us and where we'd be. If someone sold us out..." he pauses for a sip from his drink, then says matter-of-factly, "...then they're going to die quite slowly. Beyond that there's no specific person to focus on, though, at least for me."
Though initially surprised to be tasked by the Cardinal with months of initial training, Florian throws himself into it. While he generally maintains the same friendly sort of demeanor he displayed upon his first meeting with the rest of the Ninth Knot, he also shows a certain intensity that was not immediately apparent early on. He engages with many of Thorn's lessons the way a bright and enthusiastic university student might; attentive listening, pointed questions, and so on. While always ruthless with the enemies placed before him, he slowly grows to be more proactive in anticipating and reacting to threats. His interactions with Tiadora are not entirely dissimilar, if somewhat less reverent. He still asks questions when the opportunity presents itself, but suffers her ministrations with smiles and laughter rather than silence. He makes a concerted effort not to show the rage that swells within him when withstanding humiliation at her hands; only a handful of times does it peek through, anger smoldering in his gray eyes. During his free time Florian frequently takes advantage of the fine food and drink to be found in the estate. Perhaps even more frequently, he spends a lot of time reading. He gets his own copy of the Asmodean Monograph from Cardinal Thorn, but reads from it only occasionally. The rest of his reading time is dedicated primarily to other texts kept at the estate. Every once in a while the young man can also be seen flipping through a small, nondescript text that appears to be a personal belonging rather than a loan from Thorn. Over the months, though he almost always carries it in a pouch on his belt, Florian takes care to avoid inadvertently showing his spell poppet to anyone else. He shows it and explains its purpose to anyone who asks to know more about his abilities, or about the thing in the pouch he always seems to have with him, but he does not volunteer this information otherwise. Old habits and all that.
Florian laughs heartily at Silarsha's joke. "I did know someone like that once; a very odd character. But no, my dear, I quite prefer my women to be alive." He winks at her, the humorous glint in his eye matching hers, then chuckles again. Notably, while he replies to her joke, he does not actually explain what he was doing with those corpses. Instead he simply refills his wine glass, downs the entire thing in seconds, and proceeds to pour himself a glass of whiskey. Leaning back in his chair, sipping at his drink, he listens to the others speak without comment. "Justice? Hmm," he finally says, his voice a bit lower than normal. "Is it justice, I wonder, or simply revenge?" He swirls his glass idly in his hand as he ponders his own question. "I suppose it doesn't matter, so long as they all bleed."
"I'll have wine as well," Florian tells the thrall. He looks up, thinking, then adds, "Whiskey, too. Just bring out the bottles, I'll figure out how much I want." He watches Charmaine run off with a curious look. I wonder if that childlike behavior is all an act, or if she's really just like that. Upon arriving to the room, he finds a suitable chair and sinks into it, sighing with contentment. When the halfling returns with her companions, Florian cannot suppress the surprised expression on his face. Is that an ogre in a f@#+ing suit? Florian stands up, smiling as warmly as he can. Though his expression is friendly, his eyes are intense and searching as he looks the ogre up and down. "Ah, erm, pleasure to meet you," he says at last, shaking the creature's large hand. "Forgive me if I seem startled. I'm afraid I've never met someone quite like you before." Back in his seat, he looks back at Silarsha when she asks her question. "A number of things, I suppose," the young man responds with a shrug. "My... associates and I ended up surrounded and attacked in a cemetery, though, and that's where I fled from. So I'm probably wanted primarily for grave robbery and desecration. It's really quite amazing how upset Mitrans get about that kind of thing."
Florian nods to Thorn as he takes the pact. "Perhaps I'll explore some other time," he says with a sigh as he strides past the others. He stops at the door and looks back. "Well, please, lead on to the room with the comfortable chairs." The young man looks over at Charmaine and Genevieve. "Will either of you be joining us?"
"Excellent," says the young man with a satisfied smile. "Shall we simply have something brought up by one of the slaves? Or should we go explore the reserve ourselves and choose something appropriate? I'm partial to exploration, myself." He pauses and half turns his body, looking at the Cardinal. "Assuming, of course, the Cardinal would allow that, and that he doesn't have some more pressing task for us."
Florian gives Charmaine a quizzical look. He hadn't been paying a great deal of attention, but Brice's comments suggest that she apparently found something disturbing. Just his teeth? Perhaps also something I did. The oath, maybe, or the blood. Odd. Still, if that bothers her so much, Florian thinks with amusement, then it'll be interesting see how she handles what comes next. His attention shifts to the previously mute woman when her form and appearance suddenly shift and she begins speaking. He listens, head tilted, and his eyes widen ever so slightly as she produces sparks from her fingers. "Just this once, well met, Heverly," Florian says, nodding to her. "And, well, Genevieve." "To be fair," he chimes in, looking over at Brice, "not everyone's contact with the divine is quite as negative as yours seems to have been. Besides, the way she talked about it, she doesn't sound all that much like a priestess." He claps his hands together, smiling at the others. "Still, this seems like quite an interesting assortment of people. Here's hoping we accomplish great things." He raises an empty hand, as if toasting with a cup visible only to him, then grins sheepishly. "Shame there's nothing to toast with."
It occurs to me that although the "indulgence" Florian refers to there is actually just him following up an Asmodean pact with an Urgathoan oath of his own, what he said and did can also be interpreted as him indulging in drinking blood. Whatever, I'm gonna roll with it! The ambiguity can be part of his disturbing mystique.
We actually only came in with 200gp worth of equipment rather than full WBL. That's not to say you guys have to share with us loot that we weren't actually there for, but we didn't roll up to the mansion with 3k worth of stuff.
Florian steps forward and takes the knife from the tray. He considers it for a moment, then grabs the blade with his left hand and quickly yanks it up, opening a wound in the palm of his hand. Blood begins to well up and out of the cut. His eyes close and he allows the sensation of pain to wash over him for a brief moment. Then his eyes open again and he tosses the knife back on the tray before taking the quill. Dipping the tip of the quill directly in the wound on his palm, he carefully writes his name on both copies of the infernal contract. "Florian Paran" He places the quill down. "And with that, I swear myself to service and secrecy." Florian gingerly presses his right index finger to the wound on his left. The young man then raises his right hand to his throat, placing his thumb and middle finger on either side of it, as if choking himself. Then he brings the same hand to his mouth and licks the first two fingers. He tastes blood. "By the Blood and the Mouth." He chuckles lightly and smiles at the Cardinal. "An extra little indulgence of mine, Cardinal Thorn." Knowledge (religion) maybe, don't know the DC:
So that's what that is. Very useful indeed. Florian nods as he looks over the woman's new, true appearance. "I see. Such a shame to have to hide such a striking appearance, but it is the smart thing to do." He points at the F shaped scar. "Particularly if you have something like that on you." He looks over at Brice, puzzling over the comment about the usefulness of lights. "Well, they're useful when it's dark. I can't actually see that well in the dark, believe it or not." He gives an amused smile and a shrug. "We're actually similar in that I also don't just know spells either. Of course, I also have no innate or latent ability either. And mine doesn't come from books or extensive study." Florian hesitates, as if considering how much he wants to say without being prompted. "So similar in some ways, different in others," he finally says.
"Forgive me, but I must say," Florian says sheepishly, looking to Silarsha, "I expected the daughter of an Ulfen war chief, someone with that name, to look more... well, Ulfen." "My shtick? I like to think my winning personality and zest for life are what I bring to the table." Florian chuckles, then mutters a few words and points a finger up. Four lights the size of lanterns shoot from his finger, hovering a few feet above the group. They dance about for a few moments before Florian lowers his finger. The lights descend and coalesce beside him, forming a softly glowing, vaguely humanoid shape. He then waves his hand, and the figure disappears entirely.
"I also have my magic. It's almost certainly quite... different in focus and nature than Brice's, though." He pats the pouch on his hip with one hand. "How much you want to know right this moment is up to you."
Florian's head tilts slightly, his eyes focused on Silarsha's as she speaks. The color changes. Perhaps based on emotional state? Or perhaps whenever she chooses? Curious. Very curious. The Ulfen name doesn't match the Talirean appearance, though. He takes a couple steps forward, curious gaze still focused on Silarsha. Then he turns back to look at Brice. "You haven't made too many non-noble friends, have you?" he asks with a smirk. "Socializing with the common folk is a little different when the authority afforded by your name is gone. But don't worry, we'll work on it." Florian turns again, looking back at the women, specifically Charmaine. "Different, yes. The gnome didn't kneel, she prostrated herself," he says, gesturing to the spot where that had happened. "That is a little different, isn't it?" He appraises her a moment longer, then shrugs. "Kneel, stand, it hardly matters. It would appear we all serve regardless, and together at that." Florian holds his hands out to his sides, palms up. He gives a friendly, almost placating smile. "I would hope we don't start off on the wrong foot."
Florian watches Wocket and Talia depart with a look of curiosity. Looks like there are others as well. Nice to know we're not doing everything ourselves. His curious look quickly shifts to Brice once he starts speaking about his 'sister'. His eyes stay on the man for a moment, appraising him, before he focuses on the women in front of him. Time enough to analyze Brice later. He gives a bow of his own -- smooth in its own way, but far less formal. "A pleasure to meet you, ladies," he says with a roguish grin. "As you have heard, I am Florian Paran of Ghastenhall. Custom wouldn't dictate you kneel to someone of my station, but you may if it strikes your fancy." He laughs.
Based on a quick look, it looks like Talia's May 1 post in here is the most recent post on that or any other alias.
GM & Brice: Florian leans over, peering at the contract in Brice's hand as the man speaks to Cardinal Thorn. He's right, we're not the first ones to be part of this little conspiracy. One of these names even looks foreign. He takes the contract when Brice hands it over, looking more carefully at the terms presented therein. Short and fairly straightforward -- a far cry from some of the convoluted business contracts his family had been party to at times.
Odd material, though. And red ink, if it even is ink. Blood, perhaps? The young man looks up from the document as Brice continues speaking. His negotiations clearly indicate to Florian a past full of bad experiences with organized religion. Something to learn more about at a later date, perhaps. He gives an amused look when his name is mentioned. "Am I really so easy to figure out? Perhaps I should work on that."
GM & Brice: Florian smiles again, both in response to Thorn's acceptance of his own "terms" and to the other man's proposal. "An.. interesting proposal, given our benefactor is a priest of some sort." He folds his arms, thinking, then grins. "Very well, Cardinal Thorn. I will continue to honor the Pallid Princess in my own way here and there, but it would seem we've reached an agreement. Besides," he adds, throwing a sidelong glance at Brice, "I find myself lacking better options."
Psshh, who needs "cohorts" or "friends" when you can have SKELETONS!
With Brice and the Cardinal: Freshly bathed, shaved, and dressed, Florian looks far more the part of the dissolute young merchant's son than he did the evening before. He dresses himself in fine, fashionable clothing typical of the urban mercantile class. Before leaving the room, he retrieves his poppet from his pack. The young man gazes at it for a few moments, then tucks it into a special pouch on his belt before clasping it shut. Finished with his preparations, he follows Tiadora without comment. As soon as he enters the office, Florian notes the symbol around Thorn's neck. Asmodeans. This keeps getting better. He listens quietly, yet intently to Cardinal Thorn's speech, arms crossed, his face revealing nothing as Thorn speaks. The man certainly knew how to make a compelling offer. Though it doesn't show, anger boils deep within him as he remembers his last night in the cemetery, the rampaging Knights, the slaughter of the other members of his cell. He had no idea if Celia or anyone else was still alive, but he knew many were not. This appeared to be his best chance to avenge those who had been sent to Pharasma before they had been able to transcend death. Florian is still thinking when the man beside him launches into his litany of demands. As he speaks, Florian listens, his head tilted to one side. A small smile appears on his face. Ahh, nobility. Here this stranger, this Cardinal Thorn had pulled them both from certain death, and his first response is to get into a faux-courteous pissing match with that man. When finished, Florian laughs lightly. He looks over at the man, his eyes full of amusement. "I must say," he remarks, "I'm not sure what I was expecting from you, but it wasn't that." You're offered a chance to help found a new nation, and all you want is your father dead and control of some family land. You lack ambition. Without waiting for a response, he looks back at Cardinal Thorn. "You make a compelling case. Talingarde and its single-minded devotion to Mitra always irked me on some level. The hypocrisy, the self-righteousness, the short-sighted desire to stifle experience, to stifle life itself. Watching it crumble and burn would be quite... satisfying." In contrast with his words, his voice is cool and measured, though tinged with contempt. Florian pauses, and his hand goes to something around his neck. "I must ask something, though," he says. He pulls his hand out of his shirt, revealing a small necklace that appears to be made of bone. Attached to it is a small pendant in the shape of a death's head moth. He speaks again, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. "You must know what I was doing, and the group with which I was associated. As far as I know, the Pallid Princess would care little if a contract was struck with your god." He replaces the pendant under his shirt. "Mastery of life and mastery of death go hand in hand. Would there be any problem with my continuing in that pursuit?"
Florian stands before Tiadora, looking disheveled and worn from a long journey. He sighs and shakes his head. "I had to make it here from Ghastenhall. Not a short trip, particularly when you're avoiding contact with the law." A small smile alights upon his face as he makes eye contact with the woman. "But no, no trouble." He follows Tiadora, mildly annoyed that his arrival was greeted with sarcasm and apparently little else. I don't know what I expected, he thinks. She was like that last time, too. Florian's annoyance fades and his demeanor visibly brightens when Tiadora leads him to his room. "Oh yes, this will do. This will do very nicely." He walks past Tiadora into the room, dropping his pack near the foot of the bed. Walking around the room, inspecting the furniture, he looks up at the mention of slaves. Not servants, huh? Interesting. He says, "Send a couple pretty ones. I'm hardly up for that kind of entertainment at the moment, but a couple pretty faces never hurt." He turns away for a moment, then turns back. "Also, wh--" Tiadora cuts him off and walks away, and Florian is left looking at the empty doorway, pondering his situation.
Some good ideas on gear, thanks! So here's what I think I'm going with: A tent (10 gp)
Which leaves me with 7gp leftover. Assuming that's all okay, do you want me to have those scrolls and add the spells later, or can I just put them on my spell list now? For the trait part, I'll admit I also completely missed the part about a fitting trait bonus for our characters. I'm also not quite sure what direction to go with that. Perhaps a bonus to initiative or something that boosts one of his social skills? He can Bluff and Intimidate okay, but no Diplomacy or Sense Motive. As I said, I'm honestly not sure. I'll get a physical description added for Florian shortly.
No problems with the aforementioned boundaries, including Brice's. Florian might be the sort to engage in torture should it be necessary, but if something like that ever comes up it'll probably be best to let it be off screen or otherwise just implied. Would that be okay with everyone else? Regarding the hook, that should work well enough assuming Tiadora or some other agent been observing Florian's cell and its activities. Florian's escape from Ghastenhall is rather sudden and unexpected, and while he may have already had some ideas of what to do, Florian wouldn't have had extensive preparation and contingencies set in place to facilitate his escape. Something to get into the sewers might be a good way out, plus perhaps a comment to go one way instead of the other? I also just realized I have 140gp of leftover from character creation that I think goes away if I don't spend it. Anyone have any thoughts? :D
Hey everyone, excited to be here! Thanks for the selection and I'm very much looking forward to playing with you.
Congratulations you two. Happy playing!
@Big Joe: Would it make much sense for the teacher's pet trait to apply then if he wasn't a student while Lorrimor was a full-time professor there? I'm not sure quite what age students would be entering, but it would have been a bit after his retirement. If it doesn't make sense, I'll go ahead and change the trait and adjust accordingly.
Hmm. It occurs to me that the professor wouldn't have still been actively teaching when Florian would have been a student there, since he apparently retired 15 years ago. Would he still have been giving talks and lectures occasionally, or would they have to have met some other way? I'm open to reworking some stuff to fit that if need be.
Redac here. I decided an alchemist might be fun, so I'm submitting this guy. The crunch is done; hopefully I didn't goof on it. Backstory isn't quite finished yet, but the basic concept is this: Florian was born and raised in Ustalav (haven't decided exactly where, any good ideas?), and showed a sharp mind and an aptitude for alchemy, academics, etc. early on. He later attended the University of Lepidstadt, studying to become a proper alchemist. His time there is when he met the Professor, and they developed a good rapport with one another. Even after that specific period, Florian would still correspond with the Professor occasionally. At the time of Lorrimor's death, Florian was pursuing further knowledge outside of Ustalav. I can write up something more detailed or otherwise flesh it out more if you need it. Thanks! |
