Hamarr Fidansson's page

Having remained silent while business is negotiated, Hamarr speaks up once out of earshot of the Tiefling. He looks over his shoulder once in awhile.

"Is it just me, or is it weird that they created that ornate document for us? It feels like a 'free prize'—the kind you find at the bottom of a box of inferior oats. It's as if they have to entice you to buy the product because the prize is the only worthwhile thing about it.

Maybe I’m overthinking it. This scroll is nice, but we haven’t done anything noteworthy yet. What is that thing made of, anyway?"

He takes a closer look at the work.
Linguistics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24 Any particular influence in the style?

"Maybe we should have asked to meet the artist. I guess we'll have to find a hall now in which to hang this. No pressure."

”Thanks, Gertrude!” Once it is properly disinfected he dons the broken armor.

He is much impressed by his older brother’s kindnesses to his older sister, unlike himself.

"I'm sorry, I'll try to do better."

Olf will look to purchase a pass-me-down crowbar.

”Oh, nevermind. I’ll just buy the thing with my money.” He tries out the balance of every single option briefly before swiftly choosing one. ”Do you think we should also pick up some oil?” he asks, looking for an easy convenient source down a well known alley.

SleightofHand: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (7) + 0 = 7

"Just put it on my tab!" he calls out to the vigilant Maître du 'Les frères Cuivre'.

"I've been planning on owning a crowbar of my very own. I'll buy it from you once I have the means. Do we need to pick up a healing wand also?"

"OH, while you are at it --" Hamarr says to Gertrude, throwing his broken new armor into the washing cantrip, "do you mind?"

"No, just a plain pouch."

"Oh... good!" Hamarr beams.

"So, any chance Master Wenumweec had you poking around the Educator's guild where you found the secret entrance?"

"No," Hamarr shakes his head. "I just happened to notice that on my own. I don't think he knows anything about that. At least, he'd never mentioned anything like it to me. But, he probably knows we are now registered as the Wanderkin. Maybe he has a job for us." He pours more syrup over his pancakes and starts digging into them.

”You think that was Nert, Ham?"

Maybe Nert, maybe… Is it possible that the current Tafaj family members haven’t missed Nerty at all?” Hamarr speculates before the inhalation of Mystery Meat Slider #4. ”Did you ever nick something wearable from a classmate for fun and they don’t notice it missing right away; then walk around wearing it in plain sight as they search all over looking for it – only to finally notice it on you? That hat and scarf, Aelin, really bring out your eyes,” he suggests.

”I’m sure a reclusive family who doesn’t do much for centuries has nothing to hide,” he adds deliberately unconvincingly after consuming Slider #8.

The small apartment abode of Hamarr.
~~~~~~~~~
Hamarr is slightly surprised to find someone waiting at his vacant apartment door. ”Oh, er – for me?” He cautiously takes the letter and reads it. ”Oh, splendid. Yes, I would be honored to partake of tea with Master Wenumweec.” He enters his apartment and adds “lemon tea cakes” to his shopping list, along with "get new armor fixed".

Zzzzzz
~~~~~~~~~~
FortDC12: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Refreshed after a good night sleep, he heads over to meet with his siblings for breakfast.

"...Master Wenumweec..."

Hamarr looks up at his siblings past his head-high pancakes.

”I lost my head a bit when I saw him hurting you all.”

"It was great! Did you see what you did to the other guy?" He grins and points to the dead priest's cracked skull and scattered teeth. ”Thanks to both you and Halvar for the healing!”

”"I don't know what's happened to Hamarr, but I know it's beyond my capabilities."

”What? What are you talking about? I feel fine.” He points at the cracked open skull of the priest and exclaims excitedly while licking his lips, ”Wait, are those brains?!"

He looks back up at his siblings more earnestly. ”No, seriously! I feel fine.”

"That hat -- I remember now -- wasn't the late Nertilian Tafaj described as wearing this sort of stuff on his head?"

When Oldon is zapped by the un-disable-able door, he adds, ”Maybe we should go cash in with Peco, see if he’s any good with his promise.”

"Oooh!" Hamarr exclaims wasting no time in depriving the corpse of its armor. He shakes it out ching ching ching.

"Aw-ho-ho-ho! I bet I can get this repaired after I get it sanitized!"

The effort of shaking the armor appears to exhaust him. His eyes follow the unraveled scarf to the red skullcap.

”Hm,” he grunts. ”Distinctive if not ugly head gear. Has anyone ever seen anyone around town wearing anything like that?”

KnowLocal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Hamarr tumbles into flank past the leathery priest and strikes.

acro: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Gladius: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 2 = 25 Flank
for Dam: 1d6 + 0 ⇒ (3) + 0 = 3
and
Sneak: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Critthreat: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
for Dam: 1d6 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

Hamarr delays gesturing at others to go ahead.

Hamarr moves into flank with Aelin and takes a shot at wounding the priest.

Gladius: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 2 = 14 Flank
for Dam: 1d6 + 0 ⇒ (6) + 0 = 6
and
Sneak: 1d6 ⇒ 4

”Phew, thanks HalvarUllar! I didn’t know you could do that! I feel somewhat better now.” Hamarr looks past Halvar. ”Whoa, look at Kallie go!”

Delay to see if the priest falls or what Gertrude will do.

FortDC12: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
FortDC12: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

”OWwwwowwow! You miserable backbiter! You’re next!” Hamarr barks at the priest turning more than just a bit green.

Hamarr retreats to Kalendra and Gertrude begging for help.

”Does this look infected to you?”

”Get back, Hams! I got this!”

Hamarr delays on Olf, apparently still ‘stuck’.

”Oh, sure – that.” he remarks eyeing the Blue zombie and moving into flank. ”Pretty sure all we had to do is pull on the rug.”

Gladius: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 4 + 2 = 8 Flank
for Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3
and
Sneak: 1d6 ⇒ 5

WillSaveDC12: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

”Yes! Careful everyone, don’t get too close!" Hamarr barks emboldened by his older sister's attitude. "This guy is falling to pieces pretty spectacularly, so don’t get hit by the shrapnel!” He eyes the rug further up in the room.

A rather surprised Hamarr covers his nose with his sleeve, charges in, and pulls the rug out from under the demanding priest.

Trip: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (9) + 0 = 9

"Obedient? This why this rug is so ... messed up?"

Hamarr trots forward and nods 'ready' to Olf and Halvar.

"Nah, maybe this lock is holding back thousands of zombies or whatever waiting to eat everyone's brains. We'd want a way to re-lock it if that's the case. I bet we can borrow some olive oil from the pub. That and a little of that acid from the pool should do the trick. Or maybe we can 'milk' Thoxos for the acid," he adds facetiously, glacing at Aelin.

"In the meantime, maybe we can check out those other doors Thoxos was talking about."

”Anyone got any oil?” Hamarr asks, examining the lock.

If so...

DisableDevTake20: 20 + 9 = 29

BOOMING

Hamarr pauses a second, apparently lost in thought.

SenseMotive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 Space and liches –which we evenly just recently discussed – is this guy for real?

”You forgot the part about how to kill him?" Halvar sighs.

”Easy” Hamarr croaks just quietly enough to only be heard by his siblings. ”Maybe he did get hit on the head really hard by that cave-in.”

"Suppose we should take our leave, and continue on."

Hamarr nods and grabs the cookbook and uses it to point to Thoxos, ”Keep in touch…” He then jogs to catch up with the others, looking over his shoulder at the ever shrinking-in-the-distance Creature Not From Around Here.

He pauses briefly to briefly gander at the statues. ”Stone shape, you say? Pity to waste such a fine spell on such a distasteful subject.”

He turns to Aelin. ”So, was there any disease to worry about? Were you really checking for vampires back there? Dare I ask –” he adds a bit jovially, ”Was it as good for you as it was for Thoxos?”

He looks at the pool of Acid as Gertrude sizes it up herself. ”I’m probably good to jump it also, but will go more slowly to avoid getting too far ahead of the less sure-footed. But, oh," he adds as Oldon heads in the opposite direction, ” I guess we’re going this way first?”

He follows the others.

KnowLocal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Hamarr thinks before speaking, should he happen to recognize this 'Tar-Baphon' collective label.

"'Tar-Baphon' anyone? ... Thoxos? Who is Tar-Baphon?"

He watches as Thoxos obliges Aelin with a tendril and raises an eyebrow. He looks at Aelin pointedly and says, "Dad bounced you on your head a lot, didn't he?"

"What brought you to Crimm, and when you are not trapped, what do you like to study? You know, there's a whole library up stairs," Hamarr adds pointing up.

Slightly taken aback by the AirJelly’s forceful almost bubbly proclamation about not being an AirJelly, Hamarr approaches cautiously and pulls out a slimking fish jerky. He breaks it in half and starts chewing on one half while gently tossing the other half onto the ever growing pile of rations.

”Sorry,” he says, glancing at both the AirJelly and Kalendra, then addressing the AirJelly. ”I thought my ignorance in this matter would be self-evident. ‘AirJelly’ just seemed to fit. I was right about the scholar part though. May we ask – what is it here that you are studying?”

”Alright, Hamarr, second verse, same as the first."

”But next time,” Hamarr quips, ”let’s make it even more terse brief.”

"Okay now, which way next? And no one is allowed to say 'dig'. We're *not* digging."

”Yes. But later maybe we can do some excavating. Digging is for criminals. And I don’t like the way that acid looks or smells.” He wrinkles his nose.

~~~
Door opened
~~~

KnowDungeon (Untrained): 0 + 0 = 0
”Oh, look!! – an Airjelly Scholar. They’re even cuter in person. I knew I should have paid more attention in the 'Creatures that Inhabit Unconventional Architectural Spaces' class.” He approaches carefully with Oldon, his gladius drawn.

"Nice one, Olf!"

Hamarr watches in horror as Halvar chips anything but the statue with his sword again.

”Do you think maybe it is the scale mail? I mean – are you encumbered?!”

He takes a five foot step to fill the void Halvar has left and falls into flank with Oldon.

He swings.

Chip!

Attack: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 4 + 2 = 18 Flank
for Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1
and sneak: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Delay on Getrude.

”Aw..” Hamarr says. ”Why can’t they pick on something their own size?” Harmarr asks rhetorically.

He steps up and tries to shatter the pottery with his mace.

Mace: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
for Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

”’Hel’, you say... Figures…” Hamarr mumbles. ”I suppose that one just fell over by itself.” he says, pointing to the broken statue.

He moves forward with Oldon and inspects the door.

Percept: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

”Well, history being a guide, it isn’t trapped.”

He readies a gladius in one hand and the light mace in the other, then reaches around his eldest brother to open the door when everyone is ready.

"Oh, uh --" Hamarr says when the cloak is identified, slowly backing away from it waving it off. "That's probably best looking on someone else. Or Oldon."

~~~
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Hamarr "leads" behind Oldon. "What is it? Do you see anything? Are we there yet?" he queries impatiently.

""We've opened the stable door so to say. I don't think it would be wise to walk away now and let a horse, or zombie, or worse escape."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Hamarr agrees, wading forward if nothing untoward is spotted by any of his wiser kin.

"I'm okay with an afternoon of digging. I wish we had our approved paperwork beforehand, but it seems unlikely it will matter much."

”No worries," Hamarr says between bites. "I suspect Voslet and company are as reliant on us in this matter as we are on them – with the ‘family rates’ and all. Speaking of which – no need to drag our parents into this business at the moment.”

"Digging? Gah. Are we sure that's necessary? Ain't no one been down there in forever, I'm sure of it. And there might be nothing down there at all anyway."

He pauses on chewing his dark rye bröd to glance in concern at his eldest brother, but says nothing. Hamarr does however use his purposefully chewed toast to point and nod at Olden in agreement when the half elf starts speaking about pickaxes and shovels (his mouth too full at any point to actually speak).

"I was saying that I doubt we could afford a fine brunch,"

”Oh, I have a feeling there are more brunches like this to be had in the near future,” Hamarr states after dragging his forearm across his mouth as he finishes his mead. ”I daresay this bunch risk was worth it. If not, 'Allain' and I will have our work cut out for us.”

He takes up a toothpick and taps it on the table as if it were a pickaxe. ”Well, are we ready? Shall we?”

Hamarr naturally leads the way to the nearest brunch cafe with good food and drinks.

"We should celebrate."

Hamarr gives what appears to be a non-committal one-shoulder-shrug but adds, "Sure."

”I didn't think he'd catch on, but he held his tongue long enough to let me let my guard down. He met me at the door, and sent me to the floor."

Hamarr nods approvingly yet not surprised. ”So, a stage prop fell on you?”

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
His eyes glaze over a bit as the tiefling blathers on. He turns back to his paperwork, occasionally peeking over Kalendra’s shoulder at her paperwork.

He blithely turns in his application.

```

”When do we get to learn that very convenient sign language Briken is using?”

Hamaar smirks in pride and admiration of his older sister's perceptive skill, leaning his head against his knuckles awaiting a response from what he might perceive as an ever-even-more-reddening tiefling.

"Orange Nury it is, then."

~~~
Hamarr pins his paperwork to the wall and makes his best effort to drag the lead across the page.  He glances over his shoulder at Aelin. “So, who is she, and what did you do to earn that shiner?“

Hamarr stands in some humble space among his siblings, arms folded. He waits to see what flavor of tea is proffered.

"I'll just need to take a bio break, and no telling how long these administrative things might take,"

"Like no one is going to know what that means," he chides his oldest brother gently. He turns to Pipa cheerfully. "Please forgive Olf, evidenty he is biologically older than his race might otherwise suggest."

” If you think our odds of finding an honest Educator Guild member are low, then we play the long game. “

”Yes, I don’t think it wise to alert the Academy to what we know until we know more. And there is no evidence to suggest Tafaj the Younger is a lich.“

”Ah, legitimacy. No objections here. Where do we sign up? And what kind of nom de guerre do we ascribe ourselves? Volset Peco awaits."

"Ah, yes… Volset Peco… take Dasho up on his suggestion and his ‘family rates’? What does that even mean I wonder? Would rejecting any offer from a Tiefling be considered impolite?”

"Imagine if you will a pair of panties, Ham. You know whose panties you have, and you might even be inclined to return them, because they're a really quality undergarment."

Hamarr rests his elbow on the table and his head upon his knuckles gazing at Aelin in amusement.

”Yes, the situation is completely analogous.”

”There's a difference between doing something honorable, and doing something foolish."

”Do you speak from experience, Aelin? Forgive me, maybe I’m missing your point. But see – the angry teapot! That’s exactly it and what I have been trying to convey to you all this whole time. It’s possible that someone from the Educator’s Guild knows about it and is still using the space for illegitimate reasons. Are you afraid, Aelin – of what we might find down there?” He flashes his Citizen of Crimm metal in the light to reflect in the eyes of his siblings briefly. ”Do we want to pursue this or not? What are our obligations here, if any?”

”I'd be up for another day of digging, literally, for clues about how to proceed since I'm not sure it's clear how to proceed otherwise."

”Thanks, Halvar. I was looking for a way in from the outside in the hopes it would lead to a space beyond that rubble, but I didn’t find one. That doesn't mean we didn't miss something the first time around though. I'm willing to give it another look, but will understand if no one else is interested.”

I may have misunderstood what Ham found but -

"The secret panel is in a section that was part of a recent renovation in the Guild. I'm just curious as to why it isn't walled off completely. Outside of wanting to know the answer to that, I don't want anything. Go ahead a report it if you think that's the right thing to do, I'm just not so sure."

Hamarr does not partake of food either at this point in time, which is exceedingly out of character for him.

"Well, when you put it that way I suppose it does. But Aelin, you're the one who wanted to return to him unspoiled in the first place. I wasn't making any assumptions about the man himself or whose footsteps he might or might not be following. And spreading rumors did not cross my mind either, actually. He'd either be interested in it or not. I just thought it'd look weird to lug it out of the academy ourselves -- for whatever reason. Either returning it is a good idea or it's not." He rolls his eyes. I'm beginning to regret I found this place."

Hamarr does not partake of any drink for the time being.

”What is the possibility they unguent of timelessness if it was combined with the necromancy that created the undead made the undead super-undead? We should equip accordingly.”

In addition to buying pick-axes etc. from party funds, Hamarr procures a light mace with his own funds.

While the others hit the library to study, he cases out the part of the library just outside the same walls where the secret panel is located.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

Hamarr, a bit late and with a mouthful of some sort of confection hurdles his grinning self into a chair at the group's table.

He listens to the banter.

"Flour should work well enough. Chalk is probably cheaper."

"What?! Is it?!" exclaims Hamarr, brushing some crumbs from his leather. "Yes, makes sense. You wouldn't want to eat chalk."

"-- So about that secret door we're thinking of trip-wiring," he continues. "While in the library it occurred to me that it's in a distant corner of the Educator Guild -- close to the outside. I wonder if there's a secret door on the outside we'd also have to chalk or flour. If so, maybe it bypasses the rubble we don't want to dig out."

He takes a sip of his coffee. "And oh -- Who's Who says pretty much the same.. My eyes almost bled out from reading two-by-four generations back of Who's Who, but the Tafaj family did find a way to mass produce some sort of unguent of timelessness. And, it looks like our not-so-friendly neighborhood undead were created by Prëtash's great uncle -- Nertilian Tafaj. It was strongly suspected he dabbled in Necromancy, and despite becoming quite the a master, he was run out of the Educator's Guild because of it. It was such a scandal at the time! No wonder the Tafajs keep to themselves."

He takes a swig of his coffee. "But, can you imagine combining those two -- an unguent of timelessness with undead?" He shudders in disgust.

"Hey!! What if that oil keeping the chest so pristine is the unguent of timelessness, and what if that chest actually belonged to Nertilian? What if we approach Prëtash and tell him we found something that we think belongs to him? I wonder how much it would be worth to him."

"Did anyone think to grab one of the insignias? If not, anyone care to join me in a trip downstairs after lunch?"

"Sure. Maybe we can help spread chalk too."

On the way he turns to Kalendra and asks in all seriousness, "Is there a honeysuckle brew?"

Hamarr accepts the honeysuckle and samples it. ”Mmm! Surprisingly refreshing.” He eats the flower as well.

Sizing up the plant display, he frowns in disappointment. ”I’m guessing that it has a very short shelf life."

On the way out, he sneaks another honeysuckle stalk or two.

~~~ The Library
Hamarr strolls up to his favorite librarian.
KnowLocal: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 6 + 2 = 17
”Back issues of Who’s Who to – maybe 4 generations ago to present please. Yes Ma’am. Today we are going to the stacks!”

Briefly distracted by Kalendra's distraction, Hamarr notices the honeysuckle on the wall. "MMmm. Smells nice! Is it edible Kallie?"

"I think research is in order.”

"Random infestation of undeath, huh? Maybe that's what all undead are. Yes, this sounds like a proper approach."

"I'll pay a visit to my guy tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Yes, while you are doing that, Gertie and I can head to the Library and do some additional research."

Hamarr nods in agreement with Aelin. ”Because, Olf -- the secret panel in the library doesn’t exactly scream ‘Look here to find stairs to the unknown!’, does it?" Hamarr adds. "It may have been a long time ago that the panel was put in place. Maybe it’s forgotten. Maybe we’re the only ones who know. Then again, maybe not. How many long hairs work in the Academy, anyway?”

”--Hamarr, lunch was barely an hour ago."

Having genuinely lost track of the time, Hamarr frowns. ”Uuhhh sorry! But, damn I’m hungry again.”

He thinks for a minute. ”Let’s not say too much about what we found or where we found it… It looks like someone went through some effort to conceal this, and they might still be at the Academy. Or maybe they’re dead – dead and down where we didn’t dig.”

~~~Molly’s
”Huh, I could have sworn they used to sell meat and cheese between bread here… “ He orders the heartiest mead they have and strikes up some conversation with the patrons and bar-people.

”Has anyone heard of what the Tafaj clan might be up to these days? I’ve heard they were quite active in the Academy back in the day. Strange it no longer appears to be the case.”

DiploAid: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Hamarr grunts a grunt that indicates dissatisfaction and agrees with his siblings. "These sacks don't even have zippers. Yes, evidently the chest is the most interesting thing here." He closes it after everyone has had a gander and starts heading for the exit.

"Is it dinner time yet?"

"I'm not as interested in the chest as much as I am as to what is inside it." He looks at Oldon. "Look -- it's not even locked."

DisableDevice-DisableTrap: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
DisableDevice-Openlock: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29

Hamarr tries to open the chest.

"Whoa, Aelin -- nice!" Hamarr exclaims when Aelin takes out the remaining skeleton. "What took you so long to join in?!"

He turns his attention to the chest. "Are we in a hurry?"

If not, Hamarr will study the oily chest.

Perception: 20 + 4 = 24

Hamarr slips into flank on green when Oldon five foot steps into the room, crunching bones.

Acro: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
Slash: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 Flank
for Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Sneak: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Hamarr misgauges the center of mass of his new found "club" and teeters off to the side on his swing!

Hamarr grabs his newly found weapon and double moves to try and flip past the animated bones.

Acro: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

"Smashing them works best, but we should still be able to chip away at them with swords and arrows." Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 4

Hamarr watches as his older brother’s arrow flies into the eye socket of one of the skeletons only to bounce harmlessly off the back of its skull.

He looks at Halvar skeptically. ”Really?”

”At present, Olf is the door. Might be able to roll past them, eh, Hamarr?"

Hamarr continues searching. ”That all depends on how long it takes Olf to become unhinged, brother Aelin.”