Grunyar Feyblooded's page

This is Merck's character. Still in need of some minor twinks but mostly done.

After stroking his long mustache Grunyar speaks.
Well lass, I am an expert at putting holes in things from afar... you know.... until they are dead. I am very proficient with the arcane too. The dwarf stops to think for a couple of seconds. Oh, and I am good at making stuff explode. There is that...He nods to himself proud.

One way or another I have been before the mast for the past ten years or so. I am a skilled sailor and not afraid of hard work. After finishing his introduction Grunyar starts to nervously search his pockets for his pipe.

Oh, and I never lie, or cheat. No ma'am, never! Grunyar here is straight as an arrow. You will never meet a more honest pirat...err...sailor.
Bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21

I have played the first book of this AP twice with groups that fell apart and DMed it once for my table top group. I really would like to see the second book.

Grunyar is not quite a gunslinger but his main motif are firearms. Let me know if he fits the criteria for recruitment, if not I can throw together something else. What are you planning in regard to hitpoints and wealth by level 4 DM?

Grunyar stays in the fortune caller's table a little more grabbing some more food and beer until the gathering starts to disperse and people to leave. Everything has its end, even funerals I guess. He decides not to formally approuch the Skuldafns since he never really meet them and chooses to leave without much fuss.

Turning to Rogath. T-thank you for the reading, it was... something. I must take my leave, its late. Yes. Adressing the other people at the table. G-good night all.

With that the young dwarf stands and leaves the hall returning to the deeps of the city.

So we must endure? That much I already knew!! Grunyar says disappointed. I guess in the end press on is still the only viable option... Like always. The young dwarf shrug his shoulders trying to dismiss his disappointment.

Yes, to the streangh of our people. He says to join the toast and picks up a mug downing its content in one swing.

@Tenro and Gobo Horde.
I ended up using the 7th Battalion as part of my background. Hope you guys dont mind.

Angrin's reactions to the reading seem to sober up Grunyar bringing him back to the now. His mind starts to racionalize the whole experience pushing away the ghosts. Its just another form of divination, as generic as they use to be. Everyone imbue them with the meaning that is dear to themselfs. Yet the young dwarf stays and sit at the table, curious about what the future holds.

When the wind comes he uses both hands to steady the cards and save the ones not flipped yet.

In the heat of the brawl Drunyar found a turned table at a corner, grabbed a stout mug and hided. Uninterested in the fight he eventually dosed off.

The sudden silence awoke him. And it was with surprise that he saw the Tian Xia's entourage. The Foo lion was indeed an impressive sight, he approached to admire it from a safe distance.

At first he didn't pay much attention to the card game going nearby but when he realized what it actually was he joined that table. The future and specially the past are topics of great interest to him.

As the cards are draw and columns form Grunyar seems hypnotized, his eyes locked with the card "The Lost".

So, what does the future brings for those lost to the fiend? he asks the fortune teller with sadness.

Lost with the ghosts of his past and present Grunyar failed to noticed the change in the mood of the hall until the fuse was already lit. It caught him by surprise. As his eyes widened his right hand quickly moved under the table to cock his pistol.

Yes, relocate. Thats a good ideia, good ideia! he says while following Angrin's example and moving to fade with the shadows at the corner of the room, near the exits.
And if you know little about firearms Mister Bonechisel, keep in mind that the most important thing about them is always... who drew first. he wisper as he goes.

Damn this people. Should have brought my armor.

Its nice to bump into you again Peanuts. How fare the fair Talingrade?

"No, no. Not been to Varisia myself. The Thasilonians were certainly an interesting group though, their decline into savagery and dark magics, their runes amongst them. I did some research, but I've mostly kept busy in Garund, and occasionally southern Avistan." he replis amiably to Grunyar's question. "I had always intended to get to them eventually of course, but that is both easier, and more dangerous now with history walking right out of it's pages." he offers with an amused smile.

Angrin's introduction earns him a pause just a little bit too long and a brief condescending look before he responds. "Quint Chiselbone, of Absalom. Student in history, and dabbler in magic." he glances towards Grunyar to see if the nervous fellow will introduce himself.

70 posts in 24 hours, wow.

Yes yes, w-walking right out of the history books alright. Grunyar replies with a lost look. Fear and hate dancing behind his eyes as the seconds stretch into an awkward silence. With a sharp noise the mug in his hands cracks under the pressure of his grip.

The noise seems to scare the young dwarf who jumps in his seat looking at his surroundings as if lost. He quickly returns to his usual disquiet self.
Grunyar! Yes, my name is Grunyar. I work as a steelworker at the Gun Works. Nice to meet you. After a couple of seconds. Dabbler you say? Yes yes. I dabble a little bit too, sometimes, when I can. The knowledgeable people never seem to have the time...

And sometimes its hard being by yourself... He mumbles under his breath.

"Ahh, so plundering Tar Taargadth. I must admit I find myself rather more intrigued with some of the surface nations. The Azlanti were fascinating, I itch to get my hands on a solid piece of their work. The Jistka Imperium has occupied my attention for some time as well, it's really a shame how much has been lost to time."

Hearing a subject more in line with his interests Grunyar approuches the nearby group hoping that some conversation will help the next hours pass faster.

Fer days on end... Grunyar whispers dismayed to himself.

With all the commotion Grunyar's eyes start to nervously search for the nearby exits in case an all out brawl erupts while his mind wonder if he should not have gone home after the funeral instead.
Stop trying to fit in Grunyar, this whole thing may have been a mistake. Wearily eyeing Vulgarbeard.
Err... Sister Maven, how long does these types of celebration usually last?

Then again, a dwarven fortune teller is an odd concept in the first place.

Anyone have input?

How about a seer oracle? Maybe from varisia...

And one should avoid water. the sorcerer complements the other dwarf's instruction.
Moisture is black powder's nemesis. Prevent the explosion and rust the mechanisms. Those should always be oiled up.

Grunyar blushes at Daelric's words not sure how to respond to them.

Nevermind that, its all good. On the house.
Grunyar waves away the paladin's coin purse before resuming his conversation with the two warriors.
Yes, strange times indeed. Makes one wonder what happened to Janderhoff. Does anyone have any news?

Daelric turns to Maven, "I don't ushually drink, jusht mead on shpeshial occashionsh. Dunno why I'm drinkin' now d'ough. Ya have any shpellsh to make me feel betta?"

Here Brother Morieth. casting a quick spell and touching the paladin on the shoulder.

And after pondering for a few seconds he cast it again but this time on himself before refilling his stein with more Ironbloom beer.

The times are changing. And not for the better, no no.
Grunyar leans forward and lower the tone of his voice.
You mentioned the orcs earlier, they are pretty desperate now that the dead are walking again. Yes they are and so is everybody else. There has been talk about an alliance between Belkzen Hold and the humans from Last Wall against Tar-Baphon. Enemy of my enemy and all that...
The dwarf shrugs.

Stone guns!? That would take some guts, and a lot of magic... hmmmm, interesting concept... Grunyar seems to loose focus in a daydream for a few instants.

Looking at the gunslinger pepperbox. Quite old you say. Yes, yes, I know that feeling. pointing at his own gun.
Mine is a family heirloom of sorts also. One of the firsts Dongun Hold's designs to come this far north. Had to do some repairs and twinks also to keep it in working conditions.

"Aye, lads, I've seen 'ow those thunder-maker's of your'n work, 'n I must say it's impressive. 'owever, they 'ave many a fault in 'em. I 'ear they are known to break down, usually at the most unfortunate o' times. If'n ye ask me, I'd rather 'ave somethin' that is a bit more reliable an' just as deadly,"

Turning to the cleric.

Looking at Rockface at his side.Weeell maybe some do... scraching his head.
But usually they just die.

Hmmmm

Analyzing. There you go, sorry.

Grunyar stares wide-eyed at the cleric's work analising the way she weaves her spell. The use of eldritch energies always fascinated him, in all its forms. After she is done he seems to wake up from his reverie. Returning his attention to the table he hears a question asked by Kal'Tos about his two favorite subjects: firearms and magic!

None is required. But just like the crafting of regular arms there is a lot of room for improvements through the arcane. Oh yes, lots of room.
If one has the knowledge and is willing to... experiment a little bit. he says while tapping the pistol strapped to his waist.

You got shot?!
Not good, not good at all. shaking his head.
Getting shot is not good, better to shot first. noding.
Torag will help you, for sure, yes. There is some people from the church at the other end of the table, you should talk to them... And his conversation is cut short as he jumps again, this time out of fright, as a large beer barrel lands right in front of him.

Stout! Yes, know what to do with it. he says fumbling for his tankard.
More please. After finally getting a grip over his mug and trying to help himself to the barrel.

Dodgy dancin' elfs, hehehe.
Looking at the gunslinger's pistols.
Nice pepperbox by the way. Your own design?

At the loud noise his head turns to follow the others gaze.
Whom? Wow!

The youngster watches amazed at the living mountain that approuches. Afraid of getting the same fate as poor Furyfall Grunyar jumps away from the his path like a cat letting the barbarian sit down first before returning to his own seat.

A young and skinny, by dwarven standarts, redheaded dwarf takes a sit besides Edrukk Odolgun. He seems to be a little tipsy as he adresses the soldier.
Hello officer. My name is Grunyar, yes Grunyar. I work at the Gun Works. I was wondering if the 7th already got the new 5 ton screamers and what did you fine folks thought about them. Marvelous pieces, yes marvelous.

Grunyar came early, he did not know the deceased but was told to come, that was what everybody was doing anyway. And they were giving away free ale. So he came, sat in a corner trying to stay out of the way and sang with the crowds, that part he liked. He was using his best clothes, pistol and dagger but not the silk armor. After working the morning shift he did not care for the strange looks his foreign armor usually got. But now surrounded by a mostly heavily armored mob he felt as much as an outsider as he usually do.

Not sure if the mood of the funeral is cheerfull or sad he does not remember ever attending one before. But after a couple of steins the young dwarf manages to forget his doubts and overcome his natural shyness. A series of toasts to the 7th batalion catch his attention and he recognizes the insignia in the armor of a mourner nearby. One of the dwarfs at that table calls out to the lad right besides him.

Grunyar turns and adresses Angrin Thronebearer.

Hi, yes? They seem to be calling you. pointing.

He then gets up and moves to the other table.

Ok, this is Merck's submission, a sorcerer with a twist. Still a work in progress. Haven't touched the background yet but will start playing around with it soon.