H'ishmau's page

Initiative 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Pleased to be let out of the tight space, H'ishmau leaps forward atop the stormtroopers. The Togorian is eager to feel the blood of his Imperial foes spilling through his claws onto the floor. With a growl, he bounds forward and lashes out with one massive clawed hand.

Claws vs. Stormtrooper 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
--> Damage 1d8 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15

The white armor spreads apart like a child's toy as Hish's claws slice deeply into the now-unprotected flesh underneath. His growl of bloodlust turns into nearly a purr as the blood spills out, staining the metal grate below with blood. The stormtrooper screams out in horrific pain as H'ishmau raises his other paw to finish him off.

I'm still here, though the stop-and-go nature of this game makes it on the lower tier of priority if I only have a limited time to post.

Hish wants to pace on the ship, cooped up for far too long. He envisions a bloody retribution, his claws dipping into his enemies. Unknowingly, he begins to purr softly with his eyes closed.

I'm still here. The multi-day gap is pretty hard on a character's momentum. Trying to get back in the swing of the character.

With a good fight and a rescue of others from servitude looming before him, H'ishmau is in a fairly good mood. Sitting in his seat in the ship, he closes his eyes and mentally prepares for the fight. His claws move a bit as he imagines the upcoming fight in his head, with a small smile on his feline face.

As Leea left, Hish bellowed back, "On Togoria, the men hunt! I am no farmer!"

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Hish listens to the choices and pulls his ears back. Speaking in his typical low growl, he submits his opinion with force, vigor, and more than a little menace. "That ship is still working. They can fend for themselves. Just send them a message! The prisoners need us! We can set them free. There will be nothing they want more. If you want their eternal loyalty, free the prisoners." As he speaks, he begins to stand and slam his paws against the table. "It is the right thing to do!"

Hish looks Leea up and down, then straightens up to his full height. "I was on Trinity, but I wasn't picked up. I fought my way out, as any good warrior would. It was a great battle, full of blood and honorable combat. I haven't had such good kills since I tore the head off the Zabrak who enslaved me. I am H'ishmau, son of Garratha'a, of the planet Togoria."

Hish does not know how to talk to women outside his home planet.

I have been quite busy, but I'm still here. Hish just doesn't have a ton to do. He is a fighter, not a planner.

Hish lopes after Dak to help. For the first time since he fought his way to freedom, he doesn't feel like he is being hunted.

He feels like the hunter.

Hish is a bit of an action kind of cat, rather than politics. He would certainly make a good enforcer, though.

Hish isn't particularly bright, but he keenly understands injustice and the role that the Empire is playing in it. "I'm in. As long as the Empire exists, so will slavery. That's something I'll fight for."

H'ishmau stalks. There's really not a better word for it. Togorians are a feline race, and H'ishmau likes to pace. It simply comes off as stalking. If that cleaning droid happens to come in his sight with no witnesses, all the better.

Hish is upset by their relative failure at the station. He is glad that they were able to save some and that he was able to rip several stormtroopers to shreds, but there were many that they did not save. It bothered him.

He would avenge them. The Empire would not get away with this. It had been involved in many sins, but none so great as this.

Hish heads off to find his friend Koros. Koros would know what to do.

In Smerg's game, we are currently in a prison, having cage fights. I could really use H'ishmau over there.

H'ishmau growls and sniffs the air, ready to tear the next srormtrooper to shreds.

Just a bump to remind everyone that Rennick should be back relatively soon.

Not a problem. It's chaotic for everyone. Enjoy yourself!

Initiative 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

A grinning Togorian is an unusual sight. It isn't that they are an unhappy species, just simply that their feline aloofness and facial muscles make a smile go from a happy sight to one that is most off-putting.

H'ishmau is smiling.

He launches forward to the stormtrooper with the vibroblade. Swordfighting was an honorable pastime on Togoria, one that H'ishmau had spent quite some time doing in his youth. This enemy is honorable, willing to meet him on the field of battle without the coward's weapon of a blaster. That is an enemy that H'ishmau is glad to face.

Jump 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
Attack (Claws) 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Damage (Claws) 1d8 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

He bounds towards the stormtrooper, briefly dropping to all fours, and leaps into a charge. He lands on the soldier's chest with his legs, knocking him to the ground as he slashes through his armor with razor-sharp claws. Blood sprays out from under the stormtrooper's body armor, quickly pooling beneath the corpse.

Hish stands to his full height and roars loudly, glad to be in the thick of battle. He will return to claim the sword as his prize for victory in honorable combat.

Modifier: Reflex 13

Hish eyes the scientists angrily, considering whether or not to kill them then and there. After a few tense moment, he throws them to the ground. "Fine," he growls angrily. He takes a few steps to prepare for the assault on the communication center. It would undoubtedly be guarded, giving him the opportunity to voice his disagreement the only way he knew how.

Have fun and good luck!

Hish's ears pull back tight against his head in a show of anger and he picks the scientists up further. "They are killers! They show no mercy and they get no mercy! The Empire won't do anything about this. They're the ones who are doing it! They deserve death!"

You can take a look at my game to see how it works. I started doing it at about post #75, give or take. Link!

Hish leaps down from the catwalk, gracefully landing on his feet. For once, he actually appears feline. He snatches up the two assistant scientists, one in each hand, and lifts them both several feet off the ground. "You want to see the results?" Hish's words are somewhere between a growl and a shout. "I'm going to tear your limbs off and leave you out there! You'll get to see it from up close!" He begins walking towards the entrance. "Bring the other one, Koros! Use your laser sword to cut off his legs right now or I'll tear them off."

Intimidate 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 + relevant bonuses

Whoops, didn't change over to H'ishmau on the last IC post. Sorry.

If I might make a suggestion that works very well in my game, you may want to consider giving us the enemy's defense/hp (unless it is a boss type enemy) so that we can adjudicate and describe our own attacks.

That's probably in their best interest.

Just waiting for the command to start.

H'ishmau's muscles ripple under his fur. The tension roils off him, as his hatred of the shackles is clearly evident to anyone looking. If the Whipid does not use whatever this Force was to unlock him, he will break free on his own power. He will tear every Imperial limb from limb, if that is what it took.

One thing that I'd like to point out that Hish is Large size, so anyone who moves up to engage him will provoke an attack of opportunity get a claw in the face for their trouble. It's a little more difficult to adjudicate in the narrative, no-map style.

What are we going to do in regards to a map?

H'ishmau is not pleased to be shackled again, but there is a galaxy of difference between willingly submitting to a temporary situation and enslavement. He can live with the restraints, as terrible a burden as they are. He growls deeply, but keeps his temper under control as best he can. He takes comfort that the shackles are not electrified and that his jailer is not a sadist. He takes a step forward and growls at his allies. "Let's get a move on. I don't want to be in these for long."

Hish sneers at the blaster rifle, an odd look on a feline face. "Blasters are not my first choice." He flexes his claws out and grins at the prospect of violence. "In the ring, I learned the Echani style of claw-to-claw combat. If the enemy survives one slash of my claws, I have not succeeded."

H'ishamu looks at Aran and limits his growling. "Fine, but I won't put on anything unless I can break free," he says. "And I demand payment because only slaves are not paid."

Hish considers asking for the droid as payment, but decides that he would rather be able to hunt it on his own terms.

Hish stands to his full 3 meter height and growls loudly. "I am no one's prisoner! I will not be shackled again!"

He vividly recalls the feeling of shackles around his wrist. They were electrified to ensure his submission, something that the slavemaster sadistically activated at his whim. The shackles had burned and cut into his wrists. The fur had mostly regrown, but he knew the scars were there.

The Togorian looks ill at the pictures on the screen. To his culture, disease was a poor choice for the inevitable meeting with death. Anyone intent on creating and spreading such a disease would certainly not be someone interested in honor. If H'ishmau could prevent this dishonor, he would regain some of his own.

Before hearing this, H'ishmau was angry with the Empire for allowing his enslavement to occur. After the briefing, he is filled with nothing but anger towards the Empire. It was not content to merely allow injustice passively, but was actively seeking such a dishonorable goal. H'ishmau would not let that stand. He stands still for a moment, letting the anger and rage fill his veins.

He growls out his response, "What can we do?"

Hish watched the droid scurry away, his ears pressed flat back against his head. With any luck, he would one day have an opportunity to catch it and play with it before tearing it into tiny pieces. He imagines pouncing on it, trapping the tiny droid in his huge paws.

Still, more puzzling things abound in this hangar, and H'ishmau would find an answer. "What's a Jedi?"

While H'ishmau doesn't know any of these people, none of them had so far tried anything that would make him suspicious. He simply stands back and watches Jace as he embraces one of the members of the other group. This doesn't really seem like the kind of situation he should speak in.

He spots the small cleaning droid and involuntarily lets out a low growl. He doesn't understand the metal contraptions and thus does not like them.

Hish downs the remainder of the milk with a satisfied gulp. "Good enough for me."

The Togorian and the Zabrak return to their lodging and check out. It will be good to get someplace where Hish isn't so cramped. The pair then heads over to the location, ready for the mission.

H'ishmau receives his milk as Jace walks away. He sips it in a surprisingly delicate fashion as he considers the offer. Could he accept being a willing captive for a good cause? Would the cause allow him to return to Togoria with his head held high, no longer just a former slave? The fact that the unusual Zeltron was able to walk away without threatening him helped nudge him towards joining.

While he isn't sure, he knows that he can trust Koros with the decision. "What do you think? Do we go? I don't like being kept, but I don't want to waste a chance like this." Hish continues drinking the milk as he ponders the decision.

H'ishmau's chair is fat too small for him. He holds a lot of his weight on the table to reduce the strain on the chair, a lesson learned after many broken chairs. He leans forward to speak to Bryar. "I only have one rule before accepting a job: I can walk away anytime, my choice, no warning. Freedom is more important to me than you can imagine."

He shakes his head when offered alcohol. He had never liked it and did not understand why others did. He startles a waitress when he stands as she walks by. "Bring me warm milk. He's paying." He points to his new business partner.

Hish looks to Koros before sitting down at the Zeltron's table. After their new acquaintance orders a drink, Hish gets right to the point. "We want to fight the Empire. Can you help us with that?"

H'ishmau looks at the Zeltron, untrusting of his geniality. "What of it?" He practically growls the words out, each syllable a guttural spitting. "Who the hell are you?" Hish is anything but domesticated. Most people would see him as little more than a barbaric brute, an image he was totally fine with.

Hish flexes his claws with little subtlety. If this were to turn out to be a trap, he would be ready to inflict terrible violence on the Zeltron male.

I've seen these before. They're pretty impressive. I just wish the kids weren't so nerdy. The second one is better because of their age. It's pretty obvious when they are pulling the hits, but that's to be expected. Saddeningly, the fistfighting looks considerably faker than the lightsaber swordplay.

Hish won't be remarkably useful in a space battle unless he's killing a boarding team or something.

With a guttural Togorian accent, H'ishmau voiced his agreement. "I'm just looking forward to not being cooped up like a dog. I spent years in cages and I'll be damned if I ever end up in one again." A Twi'lek came too close to him, causing Hish to growl at him. The green skinned being took a few steps back and turned, tucking his lekku away as he tried to make himself scarce.

Hish considered the Zabrak in front of him. The first Zabrak he had met was a cruel slavemaster who sadistically tortured him in a bid to make him even more vicious. It worked far better than the slavemaster could have hoped, as evidenced when Hish tore the Zabrak's head clean off his body in a rage. He knew that there was an owner out there somewhere who lost quite a bit of money when he escaped, but he didn't care. Freedom was something worth fighting for, something worth killing for. If the mysterious message offered a chance to fight for freedom, Hish would take it.

Koros was totally different from his former slavemaster. Hish could easily relate to his moroseness and anger, but there was quite a bit he did not understand. He seemed to be capable of things that made no sense to H'ishmau, things that didn't seem possible. Hish hadn't made a point of asking Koros about it. Togorians had a saying about curiosity...

For a feline race, H'ishmau sure growls a lot. He flexes and stretches powerful muscles. Being cramped on this little station has been rough. It is too crowded to begin with and the corridors aren't designed to accommodate such a large frame.

The one fortunate thing the Togorian has going for him is his intimidating stature. Almost 3 meters tall with white striped fur, his claws and teeth keep most people at bay. When he walks through the corridor, the crowd moves for him. Except for the slavers who tried to recapture him, no one had given Hish any trouble.

That's not to say Hish is opposed to getting in trouble. If there's anything that him and Koros agreed upon, it was fighting the Empire. Now it seems they had an opportunity for just that. He growled at the very prospect.

I suppose we've been there for a few weeks then.

Since Koros landed on Trinity Station, that can be where he and Hish met. Perhaps Koros assisted Hish when a slave hunter came after him.

Hish will need someone new to hang out with.

Koros? It'll help him get over this fanatical hatred of Zabraks.

(BTW, why do you have favored enemy (Texans)? Is it the state or the football team?)

Rrrrrrarrrrrr!

I was looking at it before you added Weapon Finesse or Skill Focus (UTF).

Your defenses are off. Reflex should be 15 (10 base, 2 Dex, 1 class, 2 level). Fortitude should be 14 (10 base, 1 Con, 1 class, 2 level). Will should be 14 (10 base, 1 Wis, 1 class, 2 level).

Your base attack should be +2. You haven't added your 2nd level hit points.

You should have 3 feats: 1 for level 1, 1 for human bonus, 1 for Jedi level 2 bonus feat.

For combat, is it going to be free-form or tactical map? If you go with a map, I suggest doing what I did on my PBP - a GoogleDoc spreadsheet with 1" squares that we can all edit. It works quite well there.

Ronin - Sounds good. Shall Caelum have assisted him escape? If so, why?