A warforged fanatic. Delicious!
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Oho! What a fine play. You have fallen in with interesting folk little cousin.
Pay attention, dolt. The ragman is clever, and the lady learned.
Ready, little cousin...
The miniature ignores you. Ignore him for the moment.
Enough chatter, little cousin. Return to the task at hand!
Ah...Interesting. This one is not a threat.
Careful, dolt. This one could be tricksy. Proceed with caution.
That one, little cousin - Carduus. He is the one to watch - his bandages hide much more than wounds it would seem
A note little cousin!
Good work, little cousin. We will find a place here that means more than a scum infested portal and mean bedding. Sharon provides for all those who listen...
Harpoon watches as the one known as Dagger recedes into the darkness of the night. The enveloping darkness. How I love thee. He hears the ruckus emanating from the inn, and shrugs. Drinkers will drink, and drunks will fight. Harpoon slings his weapon over his shoulder, and stares up at the skyline. Lord of Blades indeed. It was time to return to normalcy, the mundane...menial work of Haqueton's...job. Still, two things happened tonight - Harpoon saw a gunne, and met a Dagger. All in all, a good night for Sharn's Harpoon...
Harpoon stares at the warforged. "Dagger. You keep yours. And leave me mine. Now go." Harpoon retrieves his namesake weapon. "And tell your master - a Harpoon has no blade, and thus, no lord." And with that, he leaves.
Harpoon betrays not even a glance of surprise as the warforged effortlessly disarms him. The harpoon clatters on the ground, and Harpoon makes a mental note of its location. He looks down at the dagger dangerously close to him. "And by what appellation do you go by? Shiv?" Harpoon favours the stranger with a garish approximation of a grin. "It is not as you say. I am as untainted as you are beholden. Now hand over your blade or I will be forced to rearrange your physicality, stranger.
Harpoon takes a few moments to let the warforged think he is mulling the information over. "Interest me? Yessss!" Harpoon lunges, stabbing forward with his baleful spike. [+2 Strength]
Hidden Strike: stalker gains an ability called hidden strike, which allows him to deal an extra 1d8 points of precision damage on melee attacks (or ranged attacks from within 30 feet) against foes who are unaware of his presence, who consider him an ally, or who are made flat-footed by startling appearance. This extra damage increases by 1d8 at 3rd level and every 2 vigilante levels thereafter. A stalker vigilante can also deal hidden strike damage to a target that he is flanking or that is denied its Dexterity bonus to AC, but in these cases, the damage dice are reduced to d4s. A stalker can deal hidden strike damage against targets with concealment (but not total concealment).
"I have not heard of this "Lord". And as I suspected - you pay homage to a "lord" - indicating your fealty, your...slavery. If you worked "with" him, would I not see him here, now?." Harpoon makes a show of looking left and right, up and down before staring back at the warforged stranger.. "No matter. Tell me of the higher purpose your "lord" proposes." Harpoon shrugs inside his cloak, hoping it hides his front foot edging forward to enable a quick powerful stab with his namesake weapon...
Harppon did not expect this. This one has no Blood... whispers the voice inside, that Haqueton does not hear. He wavers, yet the harpoon stays held with an iron double handed grip pointed directly at the newcomer's solar plexus. "I am yet free. Yet you seem to be beholden to another. Relay your message."
Harpoon turns into an available alley, and unslings his harpoon, ready to ambush the follower. These streets are my hunting ground. You are my prey.
Careful, cousin. One follows us. It is time for Harpoon.
Correction: His name is NOT....oh...never mind...
Another exposes their indifference and arrogance. Pay it no mind kind cousin. We remember all, don't we...
Correction: That one who wishes to call us "Gears" - is NOT interesting. He is a fool, or pretends to be one, and shall be dealt with. Also, the Half-Orc - his name is Dharrak. Not Just, not T-Bone. Just. "Dharrak". Offer your services, little cousin. More coin could pave our way to a gunne...
Stay close to this one little cousin. Learn everything you can about this weapon. When we too have a gunne....
A lesson cousin. The fleshwrought are often inconsiderate, or considerate of their own sense of self. Still. An interesting one that. Now. Do something.
*correction* The man with the mount
The cloak'd figure watched the cavalcade of personages pass by - a wily looking half-orc, a capable man and his mount, a bold woman, a bandaged cripple...then melted back into the shadows of the alley. Cousin. Go to the inn. Find out more.
Corruption, little cousin. The canker of Khorvaire, the festering remnants of the Dragonspawn'd power. Corruption...
This is Haqueton's Vigilante alias. Haven't imported the stats yet. Taking the Unlearned Drawback/Trait.. |