Grumblejak's page

I literally LOL'd on the subway reading Daedalos's post and sad roll.

A low rumble reverberates in Grumblejack's chest as his eyes narrow in response to the smaller bugbears' implications. He pops his neck to the left and the right, then flexes his arms as he angles himself for a clear path to the bugbears.

In a relatively quiet voice, clearly directed towards the Ninth Knot but loud enough it could be heard by a keen-eared bugbear, he says, "Let Grumblejack slay them for you. I need to stretch... and I'm hungry, too." While staring at the bugbears, he says the last part a bit louder.

Intimidate (aid Another): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

Will wait for others to have a chance to chime in before following up as the bugbears.

By the end of the journey, Grumblejack cannot contain his misery. The last few days heading up the coast were particularly brutal with the ogre's massive size leaving him particularly exposed to the cold and wind with little shelter. More than a few times, you caught him eyeing the crew of the Frosthamar hungrily, gripping his sword, trying to find some outlet for his anger and frustration. Yet, remarkably for one of his kin, he held himself together and never so much as raised a fist.

Now that dry land is within reach, he practically danced on the deck of the ship, donned his armor and slung the sword across his massive back. He leaves the diplomacy to the "little 'uns" but moves to stand behind Timo and Daidalos, putting his hulking mass to as much intimidating effect as possible.

Will update more when others have had a chance to post. Thanks for your patience over the last few days, all.

Hmm. Nothing about the spell that says a non-humanoid can't cast it on itself. Alrighty.

The ogre holds the dainty circlet in a pair of arm-sized fingers, looking at it dubiously. But, with the slightest of shrugs, he puts it on his head and, after a moment of concentration, seems to shrink to the size of an enormous brute of a man... but at least he now looks like a man.

He extends an arm and looks at his hand, then the other, and grins at Price with a chuckle.

Grumblejack, outfitted with some new gear courtesy of Tiadora, accompanies you to the dock in high spirits. Never has he eaten so well and done so little. He even managed to bathe and have his hair brushed by the slaves. It's an incongruous sight, a well groomed ogre. Yet there he is.

In his broken common, he expresses genuine pleasure at being reunited with all of you while also confessing a bit of uneasy with the hostess of the manor house. "Grumblejack swear... me not sure sometimes if pretty lady going to feed Grumblejack or try to eat Grumblejack. Me pretty sure me could kill her but... she strange." He shudders slightly at the memory.

Upon arriving at the boat and Kargeld Odenkirk's demand for money, the ogre simply glowers as a low rumble comes from his meaty throat.

Grumblejack stands in the back and shudders, "Grumblejack hate snakes..."

The ogre looks back down the hall, back at Price, then the hall, and understands. As stealthy as an ogre can manage, he moves back down the hall... his sword scrapes the wall, hide armor catches on a door, and hits his head on the ceiling. Otherwise, he as silent as an auroch in a glass factory.

The significance of all this seems a bit lost on the ogre but one thing does register. This is the nicest place he's ever been without killing something. It feels...odd.

A slave steps up to him then wordlessly gestures with an out swept hand towards a hallway off the reception area. Grumblejack looks at him wordlessly, then at everyone else. "Grumblejack is not knowing. This food?" He gestures at the slave, who practically shrinks into the floor but neither flees nor objects.

The ogre looks at Inelukii in confusion for a moment, looks at his own crotch, the club, his crotch, then over at Timo. He shrugs again. "Seen many little 'un nibblets. Still biggest:"

Grumblejack listens to the banter and, not fully understanding it, interjects with, "Mine is biggest." If anyone looks, he shrugs and lifts the club he's wielding. "Biggest." He points at the club with his other hand in case it isn't clear.

The ogre blinks in surprise at the question. He looks at Morthos walking away and the others preparing to leave. He looks back at the prison, then around the countryside. Finally he looks back at Price and shrugs, "Grumblejack not know. You good at killin' other little 'uns. Grumblejack have fun. Lots of food. Grumblejack come with little 'uns? Help kill other little 'runs like those?" He gestures back towards the prison.

His arrival preceded by the rhythmic bass of his feet pounding across the bridge, Grumblejack ambles up to the portcullis, ducks his head to pass beneath it, then stretches his arms wide. Even he seems to appreciate being freed of the prison.

As Price squares off with Morthos, his eyes fix on the two of them, flicking back and forth as each speaks. He remains quiet during the exchange.

Grumblejack pokes his head in through the door to the kitchen, the disembodied head of one of the dead guards in his hands, cracked open as he picks at the grey matter within. "Grumblejack sneak good if have to..."

When the cook starts to gasp for breath at the gruesome sight of the ogre and his latest meal, he casts a toothy grin at her, wiggles a couple of bloody fingers in a mocking semblance of a greeting, then backs out of the room (and out of sight).

The ogre grins at Morthos and pats him on the shoulder, apparently taking the human's elaborate patience and explanations as a sign of nervousness. "You no worry. Grumblejack will smash the little 'uns good."

When the anti-paladin gives the word, Grumblejack shoulders the door open, charges in, and swings his club with both hands at the first living creature he sees... a half-naked man in the process of putting on his gear.

Grumblejack's Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15 Damage w/ Large Club: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (6, 2) + 4 = 12

For the ogre, it's a glancing blow but there is still enough force behind it to gravely wound the man.

GM post to follow in a moment

The ogre looks at Price, thoughtful for a moment as he tries to put it to words, then replies, "More like rabbit. All the..." His voices drifts into a rumble and he wiggles his fingers, trying to remember a word. "...veg-tables they eat."

On that note, Grumblejack utters an enormous belch and tosses the femur he just picked clean across the room into a corner.

He collects the large club from the other room and waits, somewhat impatiently, for the next course...er, fight.

The ogre stoops low to put his face directly onto that of the last surviving guard, a wicked grin on his face. "Grumblejack still hungry," he says suggestively, but then looks not at Timo nor Morthos but at Affyria and Daedalus, "but maybe you want him first?"

The ogre watches all of this with a bit of blood dribbling down his chin. He wipes it away before swinging the severed arm in the direction of the guard and says, "Tie mouth shut so it not make noise, then Grumblejack carry dinner to go."

Grumblejack surveys the carnage in the room and seems pleased. When Timo is done with one of the bodies, the ogre takes a step -- practically crossing half the room with just a single stride -- and nudges the corpse this way and that. Finally making a decision, he presses one foot against the dead guard's chest to hold it in place, then with one hand he extends one of the corpse's arms and with a swipe any butcher would be envious of chops the arm off with the longsword.

Lifting up the arm, he peels off any remnants of clothing, then begins to eat. After a couple of bites, he lets out a satisfied sigh, then continues chomping at it while watching Affyria interrogate the survivor.

Grumblejack nods at Price and Affyria, and for the cleric he seems to be particularly respectful but also...wary? "Grumblejack fine. Still kill many guards." He bows his head slightly--respect? from an ogre?--then ambles out of the vault-like cell, doing his best to keep his voice low and steps quiet.

He raises a hand and practically waves at the rest of the little 'uns, flashy another one of his toothy grins, then slowly steps over towards the door to the guard room but staying back from the door so as to not interfere with Timo nor betray his presence to those on the other side of the door. Of course, for those without dark vision, you only hear hints of this.

Map and handouts updated.

As Price works on the door to the vault, whatever is at the door is heard to back up several steps, chains rattling. Thank Asmodeus, these locks are practically antiques. With a *snick*, the tumblers fall into place and the door opens. Within is a massive creature looming in the darkness but Price's darkvision is easily able to discern its nature. Grumblejack is most definitely an ogre.

An ogre who has been badly beaten, judging by the flesh mottled and bruised and more than a few cuts and slashes.

For an ogre, he seems remarkable stoic, letting you unlock his manacles while he patiently waits for you to finish your work. That done, he stretches his arms, joints popping and cracking, then looks at Price with a wide, toothy grin. "Grumblejack thanks the pretty lady. You give Grumblejack freedom, and Grumblejack kill guards for you. But no worry. Grumblejack can be quiet if must. But... can't be small like little 'uns." A chuckle that sounds like boulders rumbling down a cliff comes from deep in his chest as he laughs at his own joke.