Harrim0430's page

Harrim scowls and thinks for a moment.
It is part of why I asked Pyros to accompany you to any of these ruins. The wizard is correct that there are several ruined forts in the area. Perhaps the man we rescued, Ekundayo, can give us more information. He seemed to knwo the area well."

Harrim looks at the tattoo with distaste.
"I don't know how it works. I find it hard to believe it is from the traitor god, Torag, though. Such a thing seems to be more than such a weak god could grant."

Harrim continues to try to keep Amiri up.
3d8 + 5 ⇒ (7, 7, 5) + 5 = 24

Wow, Amiri is fully healed

Harrim waits for Regongar before acting.

Harrim attempts to break free.
1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22
He succeeds.

After Tristian, Harrim comes to see you. He looks a bit embarrassed and he bervously runs his fingers through his beard and clears his throat several times before finally beginning.

"I heard...not that it's important, but...well" He again clears his throat.
"I heard that an old trade road built by dwarves of the Five Kings Mountains runs through these lands. I don't know what happened to them, or where they went. Unforgiving Time spares no one...but the road still exists. And perhaps even more."

"Well, Pyros, I'd like to make a request. If you find any dwarven ruins, I'd like to accompany you to see them with my own eyes."

"You aren't fooling anyone here, Tartuccio! Why continue this charade?" Harrim shouts at the obnoxious Gnome.

"What? How is this possible? I guess Groetus has decided it's not my time yet."
The dwarf seems genuinely surprised. He gets up and picks up his shield and mace.
"I suppose I will aid you in repelling these assassins." He says with grim resolve.

"Ah, it is too late, Groetus awaits." the dwarf says after drinking the potion.

Faerin, you identify three of the potions as CLWs.

As Faerin checks the dwarf, he moans, "It is no use, I am dying." Blood trickles from his mouth.
"Groetus, take your servant at last."

He is pretty beat up, but he is no where near dying. A simple cure spell or potion would probably bring him completely back up.

A dour dwarf in black heavy armor with what appears to be some sort of holy symbol in silver on it responds, "We haven't yet begun and you speak of divvying rewards. What makes you think we will even succeed? There's little point arguing over who gains the tite when we will most likely lose our lives there..."