Grickin's page

I think maybe Pharasma pulled a Washington or something? I dunno.

Killing isn't murder when nobody stays dead. I've already died more times than I can count (maybe nine) just fighting NPCs.

A life is without value for us. Life itself is as precious as ever, but there's a problem right now with overstocking.

Grickin, human rogue/barbarian/druid. More-or-less.

Uh-oh, look! A bandit! :)

I did the thing again, didn't I? God, I'm such an outcast. I'm like Edward Cullen crossed with Kovu from Lion King 2. :(

Indeed! As a druid of the endtimes, I of course share my colleagues' goals, even if I am no longer a true member.

Come, friends, let us air our griefances* over a platter of delicious deep-fried panda, sitting upon our Amazon sequoia-wood chairs and wearing lovely hats with birds on them.

Also, our chairs will be placed at the top of a pyramid of elephant bones.

What? Why are you guys looking at me like that? Is my hat twitching again?

Oh hey, it's more PETA & Greenpeace imitation.

Chopping wood won't make you evil, chopping people will.

Oh? Does the wood have magic that always brings it back to life with no ill effects?

People grow back no matter what in these lands. Trees, on the other hand...

Also, Evil =/= low Rep. As such, don't bring up evil here. Of course commoner choppers will be evil, but they can still succeed in the game.

i dunno whatcha talkin bout

Nine members? Whoa. That's not bad for a bunch of pointy-eared frolicking little woodnymphmen who wear frilly pink mandresses...

The Mooncalves are proud to declare their alliance with the lovely town of Libertariavale or whatever it's called.

Outrageous! Please to define this "law" of yours! Will it stop me from being a yappy nuisance? It will, won't it?! Leave my playstyle alone!

GrickiNOT.

This is not intended as a sarcastic knock at Bluddwolf or his gang. It's just me doing my thing. You can feel free to be annoyed at it anyways.

Don't worry about it, Pax. I'm just being obtuse because I feel bad about ditching this subforum...again. :P

I don't feel bad about calling every single member of the Pax group "Pax", though. That's just fun.

Xeen pulls out a dagger and buries it into Mrs. Steelwings belly.

How dare you stare at me blankly for days on end with no answer.

Here Mez, have all the pigeons you wish.

btw, just an incentive for her to return, I hope all is well family wise

Grickin grins. "That seems a bit extreme."

Stopping several yards from the inn's outer boundary, the witch beckons the sparrow over and raises a finger for it perch on. Its initial wild caution is reduced by the witch's cooing and crooning, to the point where it settles on her finger in exchange for a proffered crumb.

A weary passing traveller turns with a puzzled look at the sight of a dishevelled woman chirping to the small bird, sounding exactly like a sparrow herself. Recognising the power of natural witchcraft, the traveller thinks it best to bow his head and pass on without comment.

"So, little one. Who is your master? You come from inside the inn so you are not local to these parts. Maybe you carry a message, yes? Maybe you come to follow me home? Maybe you were trapped and now escape from the noise and dark? No, I think you carry a message for you feel not completely at one with nature. You are the servant of another. Relax and tell me, what is it you wish to reveal?"

Zael is clearly underpaying his familiar. ;D

Grickin looks disappointed.

Grickin's notched scythe is at the ready, but an excited smile starts to form as he observes the violence.

The thread's last page. Harad is a busy bee indeed.

"Ha! Well, Brother, that makes two of us."

*cough*

((anyway))

(To Grickin) That which people seem to... call me is Brother Letholdus... Zael. It may be found an... opportunity to be... required of blood payment. Oil on the fire? Petty... circumstances I would say... without the... Sight there is so much to be... seen. Funny. (To Steelwing) Indeed? Who will be... settling down, and what will about... the domain of the previous... inhabitants?

Grickin looks over, distracted from the map. "Staring at a starling's all well and good, Brother, but staring at a rook loses you two eyes. You won't see anything, then--though I guess it depends on your point of view. If seeing the face of oblivion every second doesn't appeal to you, careful who you look too hard at."

*Better cough*

Grickin seems to snap out of his reverie. "A map! How precious!" He leans over in his chair to stare with wide-eyed wonder.

After a moment, he jabs at two regions on the map."Whoops, no good. Mating season for the goblins this time of year. That's not a place fit for us civilized folk."

Grickin's expression turns serious. "I can't pay anyone coin, but my trade's in blood. I can pay in that." His eyes glitter. He fingers the blade of the red-stained scythe strapped to his back. "But I don't think anyone here would like that very much."

After a moment, he gives a manic grin and drops his hand. "Ha! Anyway, I'll be keeping the coin, Mister...?" He frowns at the strange newcomer. "Dust in the wind? Glass shards in the rivers. Blood in the water." His head cocks. He blinks.

Zael abruptly halts polishing the stones and stands up, pushing the pebbles back into his coat before marching over to the table where Steelwing, Jordan, and Grickin are. He again reaches in his coat and pulls out six coins, of which he gives a pair to each person sitting at the table.

I would... beg leave to join you gentlemen, as well as pay for my... entry.

Without waiting for a reply he pulls up a chair backwards beside Jordan and sits down head resting on the seat back, masked face swiveling to turn its single eye slit upon the fellow.

Please do not... halt on my account.

((Malificia and others, there is now a corner booth by a window that is empty. Good luck being the first to take it heh.))

Grickin bites one of the coins, scowls, and pockets them both. "Didn't halt anything."

He leans over, eye twitching. "So, we're talking about who's what and where. Grickin knows a thing or two about that, but I don't always listen to the who when there's gold in the rivers." Giving a wide smile, he offers his hand to Brother Zael. "I'm of the Mooncalves--what some would call a raiding party. Burning down houses, heralds of woe, or what...well, that's all blood 'neath the bridge hereabouts, anyway. 'Sides, who has time for burning villages when there's bandits and guards crawling through the woods like termites in the...wood?"

Grickin grabs a chair and sits in it backwards. "Well, then." His voice turns a bit less frenetic. "What are you looking for, exactly?"

Grickin glances away from the giant's head, eyes widening. "The local power situation!"

Beaming, the well-armed druid rushes over to Steelwing. "My good sir, the name's Grickin. That's my name. I am leader of an indubitably potent organization known as the Mooncalves. We represent certain fringe religious movements, and maintain the utmost of sensible order in these, erm, Kingdoms."

He bows. "If you two gentlemen of fine repute wish to discuss this matter of power, I will be happy to also be here and lend my expert expertise. You happen to find me in an indulgent mood."

That's completely insane.
You serve my cause well.

Kobold Cleaver wrote:

I'll track you down eventually!

By all means, Being, allow him to track you over towards TEO territory. I know of a few members who just love meeting killers with Grickin's motivations.

Death is but a door, time but a window. The moon is very bright tonight, and I will be back.

I'm kinda basing Grickin's personality on a less structured Rorschach: Deranged, warped, convinced humanity is sick, strong dedication to certain ideals that goes beyond common sense.

Gonna give this a shot. Been a while since I roleplayed...

"I'm ba-a-ack!"

A moment after this muffled cry is heard, the door slams open. A crooked-nosed man with a great bushy beard steps inside, looking around with eyes filled with wonder--and a hint of something else. A rusty scythe is strapped to his back, and a sprig of holly serves as a crude brooch for his hide cloak.

He walks over to the giant's head and gives a small bow. "Rovagroetus's roving eyes, Grolva. It's been too long. Last I saw you, your helmet wasn't anywhere near as tarnished. It been so long?"

He looks around. "Is it just me, or were there awful good numbers of folk heading to this tavern? Business is going well for..." He scowls at Ara. "...Anna. Anna, it must be. Clever Grickin never forgets names of any real importance."

As a druid, I find the idea that we'd be able to bring down entire farms at higher levels quite interesting. If someone for some reason decided a settlement needed to be taught a lesson, it would be a good thing to know.
Mother is calling.

I'll not be associating with you deranged ragamuffins. I'm a respectable merchant guard, you see.

I also want to be able to play an ugly character, if I choose. Makes the game more immersive and makes other PCs more distinctive. Instead of "oh, it's that red-haired elf", it might be "oh, it's that elf with the big nose".

Yeah, sure.
Grickin is a druid (with ranger/barbarian elements, probably) and worshipper of Rovagug. Chaotic Neutral. Grickin is generally very civil, and often likes to protect merchants from bandits and the like. Effectively, he behaves as if Neutral Good.

However, he may on occasion act just a bit off. Furthermore, he is utterly comfortable with the "swift-approaching end of days", and this can be a little disturbing to those who know him.