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Forrest returns back home, quiet, but happy. "A true quest, and a true group of Pathfinders! A more rag tag gang could not be found." He smiles. "Yet, we did it! And saved Stuinvolk while we were at it!" He bows deeply to Stuinvolk and says goodbye. "There is honor to be found in supporting those in the field, should you seek it. "
Forrest wobbles on the spot, not feeling so good. His demeanor drastically improves now that the team has defeated the great being. He wipes his rapier off on her corpse and follows the team to examine the artifacts. ”Don’t worry, Faust, I learned that lesson a long time ago. No touchie. “ He then wanders off to a corner and begins practicing a growling noise similar to Faust’s. You never know! Might need to impress a tribesperson one day!
Forrest shakes his body (or more...shimmies his body?) and the ants begin to fall away. "Ants! Ha! I was born in a trough of gutter fleas, your children can't harm a halfling of cheliax!" He stabs upwards at the large ant, nicking her with his small rapier.
When she (probably) attacks me: [ooc]Uh-oh. If this is higher than her attack roll, I dodge the attack and she misses. Then I attack back, with the attack below. If it is lower... I get hit normally.
Forrest looks to the others with a grim smile. "This should be fun. My little poker won't do much to the little fellers. I can distract them if need be." He draws his sword, glinting in the magical light. The halfling, the smallest in the room, pulls out an alchemist's firein his other hand and mutters a simple phrase. "Keep light, keep fast, get out."
Charmed Life: Three times per day as an immediate action before attempting a saving throw, she can add her Charisma modifier to the result of the save. She must choose to do this before the roll is made.
Forrest nods, smiling wide. He crunches down on the offered termite, not minding the taste. He speaks to the mushroom-head, eye's flashing. "I'm not so big, but I'll take the 'stupid' name. Tell me, this lady Devourer, she ain't some kind of magic beast is she?" He shakes his head and turns to Faust. "My little lady needs something to stick in!"
Forrest curses his weapon after the beast falls. Alright! Magic weapon next. No more of this stupid armor stuff. The least the Society could do is arm me properly, like these warriors! The halfling joins the group in congratulating Stuinvolk. ”Well done, friend! You have quite literally struck a blow against your fears and come out a victor! “ He smiles large and sheathes his rapier. ”They’ll be writing great songs about you, just you wait! “
Forrest looks up at the sky in awe with Aeliah, listening to her story. Afterwards, he coughs to fill the silence, introspective. "Well, shoot. I just learned my people's language from the slave quarters. It ain't fancy or special at all." He kicks his feet in the dust, thinking. Then, he hops to his feet, offering a hand to the half-elf. "Hold up! YOU'RE PART ALIEN?!" He looks at her in shock. "You might be the coolest person ever!" He laughs and skips back to his bunk.
The next morning, Forrest shakes his head to Aeliah's suggestion. "Sorry, I'm afraid not. The fellow might have some mental... struggles. But he ain't the ghost-cat-demon. Nope, I saw him the second night, during the screeching. It was while I was... uh... taking a leak." His eyes shift to Callah, then back at the ground.
At the cairn, Forrest says nothing. This could be us if this doesn't work out so well.
Forrest laughs and pats Faust's back as the group walks away. "I'm there with ya! But not to worry." The halfling turns in place to make sure Stuinvolk is out of earshot. "I got a feeling our swords will be bloodied before this shot is done. We've got a bit of glory coming our way." Satisfied at the prospect of upcoming glory, and not at all concerned by the Mzali threats, Forrest walks ahead - whistling as he goes. Later on in the day, he sidles up to Aeliah. "Say, what was that pretty speech you had with the Mzali warrior? Some secret desert language?" Looking at his face, it's pretty obvious that the unlearned halfling truly didn't recognize the elven language.
Forrest smiles wide. "Oh! That's pretty easy! Our friend there, he's got this neato little compass thing! No, no need to see it! Nah, you can trust us! Besides...he's a little antsy anywho." He claps his hand and smiles even wider. Turning to Faust, he smirks. "Ok, maybe don't translate all of that." With a cough and a wink, he takes a step back.
Forrest reads the woman closely, understanding what we have to do. He frowns. Of course, I get the one group of Pathfinders that can't speak an actual useful language! Halfling! Stupid Tallies and their made-up nonsense languages. Forrest bows deeply to the Mzali. "Pardon me, I need to...uh... check on our unruly companion. See if he wants to see more flips." The halfling shuffles off and whispers to Aeliah, "Spread the word. The Mzali aren't convinced they should let us pass yet. They still want to get us to the coast. Perhaps Callah can convince them, with our help." He bends over to adjust his shoes, still whispering. "But, there's another problem. We need to convince her that the nuno definitely isn't on their land." He grins a little. "Which might not technically be true." He stands, turns on a heel, and begins to return to the main group. Throwing back over his shoulder then ducking off, he says "Annnnnnnnnd they might follow us anyway if we aren't super nice." He grins at the challenge and walks back. Like she said, perhaps we will win some honor today after all. Walking up to the group, he pats Callah on the shoulder. "Say, we're a pretty kind and unthreatening lot, how about you let us skirt your boundaries instead of walking all the way back to the coast?" He flashes a big ol' smile.
While the rest of the group speaks with the Mwangi, Forrest tries to distract Stuinvolk...unsuccessfully. The halfling goes for some physical comedy, doing a standing flip and landing flat on his back.
Dusting himself off from the fall, he goes back to the conversation and tries to read the tribesmembers' body language.
I'm a bad person and really should have mentioned this when I was mustering in. I'll be out of country from June 22nd-June 29 and will likely have almost no access to internet. So I will do my best to keep involved but will probably need some botting during that week. I'll be sure to add some good notes to his profile, but also feel free to put me on delay.
Forrest shares a moment with Callah, watching the conversation between Aeliah and Stuinvolk with growing enjoyment. Huh, I never knew vomiting on shoes was the way to a woman's heart! I'll have to remember that one! The halfling helps tear up camp, he thinks about what the Foreigner said. He stops for a moment to give Mary, the donkey, a pet and looks longingly at the dance shoes peeking out of his bag. He murmurs to himself, "Those Ulfen, always telling stories and singing songs. No appreciation for fine footwork."
Forrest looks at Stuinvolk with a smirk, unable to contain himself. "Men and women screaming? Sure it wasn't just one woman?" He does a heel click in the air and turns back to Stuinvolk. "Cause it sounded more like your mother did last night." With a wink and a shrug, he turns away. Not exactly dry, but hey! You take what you can get. The halfling straightens the pair of shoes and goes back to packing up the camp.
In the morning, Forrest overhears that the spirits are indeed just magical beasts. Putting away his necklace, he begins to shine his rapier. He looks over to Aeliah with a smirk. "Yes, a beast shall be an honorable fight. Perhaps today we shall make ourselves a bit of glory." He thanks Callah profusely as she once again gifts him with a bit of her magic. Later that evening, upon waking for her watch, the undine finds her shoes shined and set out for her. Forrest takes his turn walking alongside Stuinvolk during the day, sharing a bit of his story. "You ever been to Cheliax? Pretty good place, it is. Very orderly. If it weren't for all the devils and mad-rampant racism, I wouldn't'a minded it!" He shrugs his shoulders amicably. "But, they don't like halfies much around there! No sir, they like using..." His voice drops low and he almost spits out, "The S-word." With a grimace, he stays quiet for a moment. Then, with a shake of his beard, he smiles again. "But you'd probably like it! They like 'umies there! Beautiful oceans. And lots of tieflings! If you haven't met enough in the Society, you'll get your share there!" He goes on to tell a rather saucy tale of a tiefling woman he met once. "I met 'er in a bar, right? She was holding a honeycomb and a donkey. Mary, actually!" He points to the loyal donkey behind the group. "And let me tell ya, Mary ain't the only thing I got out of that night!" That night, he settles down and gets ready to take third watch.
Forrest looks over to Stuinvolk, unable to read him. Instead, he turns to Faust. A little sleepy, he stumbles over the words. "Mngwa? You got something stuck in your throat there, buddy?" Seeing no one else phased by the skeleton walking around, he just swallows the pit in his throat and pulls out a holy symbol of iomedae on a necklace around his neck. "Uh... jungle spirit you say? Great..." He looks at his rapier with sadness. Stupid material weapon... When Faust comes around asking about Skald, Forrest winks at him and replies quietly. "If it ain't halfling, it ain't worth knowing, mate." Walking away with a smirk, he decides to veer clear of the mumbling Stuinvolk. This fellow doesn't seem to take well to me, better keep my distance right now..
Forrest works on Stuin to the best of his ability during the day, trying to maintain a sense of aloofness and a containing of his normally large personality. "Uh... hey, man. Uh... watch my back while I go for a... uh... pee?" The halfling grunts at his attempt, and heads off into the grasses anyway.
Already sweating through his clothing, Which were meant for this heat! That salesman obviously oversold this fabric, Forrest smiles at Callah's offering. "Thank you, your respite would be much appreciated. And, while you are offering kind magics, would you take a look at this for me?" He digs out an old and battered wand from his pack. "It is supposed to heal, but I can never get the darn thing to work properly. Not quite as simple as a little potion, I suppose."
Forrest watches Stuinvolk pace with growing tension. The closer we get to this tribe, the more rough this is going to be. I just can't seem to get a read on this guy. The halfling nods to Faust. "Happy to take last watch. I'm use to waking up early." He heads to bed without shining his rapier, as is normally his custom, noting the Pathfinder's discomfort. Before bed, he looks to Aeliah. "The savannah? This is your native environment?" The next day, Forrest sneaks along with the group. Moving silently through the trees, he ensures to keep a healthy distance between him and Stuinvolk.
Forrest walks with the group to the tavern, a new respect found for his companions. These nobles seem to be able to hold up for themselves. We'll let the savannah show if that proves true. Aeliah and Callah though, they seem alright. Along the way, he buys an outfit to help him out with the dry heat. Can't hold a rapier with a sweaty hand! He smirks as they enter the tavern, always a popular place for the halfling. "Stuinvolk! I hear you're a hero! I'm glad we have you with us!" The halfling goes to the barkeep and grabs two of the cheapest swill they offer. He hands one to Stuinvolk and begins to down the second. "Tell us your tale, friend! I understand that talking about our ills is often what's best!" He settles in, looking at the Pathfinder with respect. To care for a bruised mind, there is honor in that. This society, they do right by us.
A lean halfling with fiery red hair and mutton chops walks up to the lodge, sweat on his brow. Short, even for a halfling, he stands just over three feet tall. He is followed by a fat donkey carrying his bags. Surprisingly, a pair of tap shoes hanging from one of the saddlebags. He pats the the donkey on the mouth and gives her a treat before entering the building. He enters the room with a graceful swagger and a large smile. A rapier is at his side, bouncing quietly along. Before addressing any of you, he pauses and addresses the Mwangi man. "Thank you, kind sir. Find some shade and a place to put up those big ol' feet." He laughs, then his face snaps into an overly respectful position. He bows deeply to the fellow pathfinder, forehead nearly grazing the floor. As he bends down, his mithril chain shirt tinkles and falls out of the way to give a view of his tattooed chest. The large black slave identification tattoo spread across his chest identifies him as property of a Cheliax noble. Waiting until the Mwangi man leaves the room, he turns to the rest of the group. His eyes drift over all of your quickly, taking everything in. The perceptive notice that his lips tighten slightly when he sees the noble outfits worn by some. Then, his mouth opens up into a smile. "What a lot! 'Allo, my name is Forrest Glavo, but that's just Forrest to all of you!" He finds a seat and spreads out with a sigh of relief. His eyes linger on the skull. "Curious artifact, that. I met a young woman who spoke with ghosts once. Nice lady, very... haunted." Moving on from Faust, and looks to Mishka. His voice takes on a slightly hostile tone. "So, noble. Nice outfit. You ever get that silk dirty?" He grabs a cup of tea, smiling at Aeliah as he does so. "I think you and I will get along just fine." He smirks, enjoying his tea and the gentle breeze.
That is definitely sad news, but real life always comes first! Know that we will miss you and your incredible, top-notch GMing. Good luck in grad school. Thank you for running such great games, for facilitating a crazy group, and for cultivating great relationships. If your time ever frees up, even just enough to play, please send a message. You'll always have a place in my games, and I'll always have a character for one of yours!
...However, I think I'd better pass since I'll hopefully be running one of these long campaign games at the time.... Actually, here's an idea. You could register one of our games during Gameday, and close registration immediately. That way you get a race boon, and scenario support if you want to try a scenario you don't own. |
