Real Life comes first. We understand, and congrats on the opportunity. All the best to you, sir! And everyone else. It's been fun!
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Ispen gives Milivent his kindest smile, and asks, "Ma'am, if'n ye don't mind...yer husband, his name is...Harald, yes? And what about yer boy. What's his name?" The dwarf pauses, then for clarification, adds, "Just so we can more easily identify 'em and whatnot."
"Whoa, Johnny-lad. Easy. Not just yet...wait fer us." Ispen does his best to catch Johnny before the halfling can charge out of the Kettle. "We're not quite done here."
Silent through this all, and brooding, for he knew the devious nature of the goblin people, Ispen scanned the street up and down, looking for the beasts he knew were not there. Goblins were the bane of the dwarven race, and their sworn enemies...along with Orcs, Giants and...well, that just wasn't the point.
Coughing quietly to himself, Ispen relaxed his grip and his shoulders, and then followed the others inside. True to form, his newfound companions hand things well in hand, with Oskar soothing the mother's fears, Johnny tending to their health, and the good Sister tending to their spirits. ...and Reu feverishly doing...whatever it is he was doing. "Aye, ma'am, we'll help, sure enough." Ispen echoes Oskar's offer, "But the lad is right. We need ta move fast if'n we're ta help yer kin."
Been busy. Distracted. Still here. Will be posting later today.
Breakfast fully underway, Ispen is shoveling a fork-full of hotcakes into his mouth when the cry for help rings through the commonroom. The fiery-haired dwarf coughs into a napkin that he uses to wipe syrup away, he rises almost in union with his companions, checking the fastenings on his axe harness as he follows them to the door and outside.
The dwarf shifts in his seat, momentarily uncomfortable as Selene's tears flow. But he'd shed blood with this woman, these people, and while he was still deciding the fact...they might very well become friends. "You have nothing to apologize for, Sister. I'm sorry that my question brings you pain. I was just thinking that perhaps we could help you in bringing his soul some justice." A pause, then he adds, "Or barring that, possibly revenge."
Ispen purses his lips for a moment, his heavy brows furrowed. "It is indeed odd that he somehow kept the ring. Maybe we should see the crownsguard...or whatever they call the watchmen here. See what information we can get from them concerning Sister Selene's husband." A pause, "It might give us more leverage if we could say we were hired to investigate the matter. Quick, Sister, hand me a coin if you would. A copper should do..."
After a surprisingly good night's sleep, Ispen gets up, readies himself, and makes his way down to the common room for some breakfast. He arrives with greetings on his lips just as the quirky gnome is making his introduction. Ispen stops, tilts his head slightly in surprise at the exchange, blinks and then laughs good-naturedly before moving on to the next table. At the first sight of a tavern maid he orders a hearty breakfast including as much bacon as is allowed, and hot coffee if they have it. If not, then he settles for ale.
Ox? Johnny? Any thoughts?
Ispen sighs. After far too many minutes of listening to Reu's mumblings and unintelligible arcane mutterings, the fiery-haired dwarf turns over in his cot, resting his head on his backpack and pulling his meager pillow over his head to cancel out what noise he could. Though thoughts for what tomorrow might bring raced through his head.
Money needed to be earned, that much was a given. Enough coin to support the group in it's future endeavors, whatever they might be. Enough cash to keep them in food and drink, and enough, hopefully to save. Enough gold to start working towards the tavern he would one day own. In the morning, over breakfast, Ispen decided he'd suggest the group head to the city hall...if Phlan had one...most burgs usually had postings for jobs that needed doing. Not the best jobs, nor usually the safest, but oftentimes worth some reasonable gold. Or maybe he'd bring up Selene's deceased husband...tactfully, he hoped. He'd try. Wasn't always good about that stuff. But there was something there that needed to be addressed at the very least. The lady was hurting, and frankly seemed to be in distress. All this and more jostled through the dwarf's mind until he reminded himself that none of it would get settled until morning which was several hours away. And so Ispen made up his mind, and in his usual, practical manner, simply decided to sleep. And surprisingly, it was enough. And Ispen snored.
I'll be honest, I like the idea of pushing on through the Tyranny of Dragons stuff...which I had not actually realized we were doing, ooc.
Ispen's Character Goals:
2. To accumulate brewing recipes for various ales (for eventual use in the aforementioned tavern, as well as to sample) 3. To adventure and see the world...during which time he wants to earn gold and find treasure...most of which he'll want to use to save up to eventually purchase or build a tavern... ...see a trend here? LOL He's pretty straightforward. I usually play characters with complicated or deep backgrounds and thought that a no-nonsense dwarf, focused on a simple, straightforward but long-term goal that wasn't combat based, might be fun. Beyond that, Ispen's more than willing to help his comrades and anyone he decides is a friend in their own pursuits. None of the other characters has reached the latter status yet, but it could easily happen with future excursions. ;)
"THAT, my friend," Ispen grins, pointing at the physical symbol of Oskar's peace offering, "...should just about do it. We'll call it square, though next time, I want ta be the guy twackin' you in the back!" The fiery-haired dwarf laughs and offers a nod to Johnny. Then to Ox. And finally, even to Reu. "Speak up, lads. Say yer' peace...are ye in or out?" Then Ispen smiles at Selene, "And you, sister? What say you? Are ye with us?"
C'mon, guys. This is Phlan! Let's go find the Pools of Radiance!
That said, I think the group could work well together, with a bit of planning, and since one of Ispen's life goals is to one day own his own inn, he's currently all about the adventuring and treasure finding. Always better to do that with a group rather than by yourself. Phlan in in the MoonSea region of the FR, yes?
Ok. I gotta ask. Reuleaux, is there a character reason you won't interact with the rest of us? While he's definitely amusing and well written, it makes it a bit difficult for another character to find any sort of bond with him, even for comedic value, if they don't at least interact with one another. If it were a life-or-death situation, why on earth would these other characters want to have him along if he won't even communicate with them? * shrug * NOT trying to start an argument or even a dispute. I just am trying to understand the character, so I can roleplay Ispen's reactions to him and his place in the group.
Ispen Ironborn gives a wary nod of thanks to Keefe, and bids farewell to O'Leary, "You need somethin' handled...you just hollar." Watching the duo leave, Ispen waits til they've departed and then mutters to the others, "That tall, ominous one...he were a priest o' Kelemvor. One of them 'Lord of the Dead'-death ain't so bad, just part of the cycle-types." the dwarf shrugs. "Leastwhile, he was wearin' the symbol. Probably not a bad sort. They don't take too kindly to undead folk, so there's that..." A small smile plays out across Ispen's face as he takes his share of the coins, placing them quickly and securely in his pouch in a proper, business-like manner. "S'okay, folks. What next? You're all reasonably talented and reliable in a scrap..." the crimson-haired fighter glances at each of the others at the table, and pauses when his eyes meet Reu's. Ispen then shrugs, "...or at whatever it is you do. Should we part ways here, or would ye each be willin' ta give it a go at working as a crew?"
The dwarven warrior turns to the halfling, his scowl firmly in place, but it is slowly eclipsed by a smile that grows into a grin as he accepts the offered cup. "Aye." Ispen nods and takes a healthy gulp, emptying half of the vessel, "You're sayin' it right, sure enough, lad." ... Finishing, Ispen grimaced a bit as he shifted his stance and his wounds began to ache. Still, the fighter found himself skeptical of the man they were calling Grim, and he watched as the others accepted his healing before stepping forward himself.
Ispen makes a face, scowling first at Reu's odd, eccentric manner, and then raising his bushy eyebrows in surprise at Sister Selene's commentary on the stranger's appearance. It's everything the dour dwarf can do not to shake his head and further show his irritation. I seriously don't understand these people. Maybe it's just been too long since I've done any visiting with my own kinfolk... Instead, the red-haired dwarf sighs and then sets his shoulders back, standing at the ready between Oskar and Selene, wary of any sudden actions that might interrupt the negotiations.
Ispen notices the restraint his companions towards the top-hatted stranger more than he does the figure himself, and when he does, he's not really all that overly impressed. Still, his job wasn't to figure everything out...it was to both be and play at being bodyguard when necessary, and so with a pragmatic shrug, the dwarf moves to stand next to Oskar, frowning and crossing his arms.
S'okay, so the guards were surprised at 25 silver. Not a bad thing, unless we accidentally start overpaying for everything. LOL What is the economy like in Phlan? Silver standard? Gold?
Just so we're all on the same page.
Yet another momentary look of surprise crosses the dwarven fighter's face...something he was begining to think was going to become a regular thing if he hung around these folks. Curbing his instinct to speak out, instead Ispen steps forward as Oskar makes his way to the guardsmen, the dwarf trying to place himself directly between Selene and the guards' line of sight. Crossing his arms across his broad chest, Ispen does his best to block their view of the pack if possible. Beyond that, he simply tries to look grumpy...which isn't really all that much of a stretch at this point.
Not completely dropping his meek servant act, such as his meager acting skills allowed it to be, Ispen says in a quiet voice, "That's certainly a nice story, mistress, but I don't think it's quite how things work in the real world." A pause as the dwarf rubs his crimson beard, "Maybe we need to get the egg back to our patron...mayhaps he can be of help retrieving Reuleaux from the jail? I mean, the mage may be nuts, but we can't just abandon him..."
Might want to recruit him as a butcher? ;) That said, I don't think he's a clean as he thought...and he's in trouble. I'm not sure we can get him out by ourselves...might need our current patron's help?
"He's crazy as a loon, that one..." Ispen mutters under his breath, glancing around to see if these were the only guardsmen, or if there were more nearby.
Ispen not only blinked, but he coughed in surprise when Oskar thwacked his back not once, but twice, then did the bare minimum to hide a scowl when the rogue and priestess openly accused him of thievery and laziness...something that he figured any less-than loyal and wayward servant might do, when caught. "A thousand pardons, mistress. M-master." Another cough as the last word left his stubborn mouth in a bitter twist. "Won't happen again. On me honor. Good of ye to allow me the chance ta make up for me failings."
Watching as the gnome goes through what seems to Ispen to be insane gestures and actions, the dwarf shakes his head then says to the others, "We need to get back to the stables and get rid of this thing a'fore someone else comes along to try and take it from us. Wounded, we might not be able ta stop 'em." To emphasize his point, the red-beared fighter shrugs his shoulders in the direction of the Tea Kettle.
Ispen scowls at the gnome's gory appearance, and glances about, moving slowly away from the building, and hoping for an alley where they can get out of sight. "Do any of ye see a trough or a well where we can rinse Reux off, for gods' sake?"
Yeah, ignore all that. Obermind and I had a chat, and I've had time to sleep and think on it. Ispen's staying. Carry on. Nothing to see here.
I've shared this with GM-Obermind, but due to some real life stresses and conflicts, once we move past the current situation, Ispen will be departing the group. You guys are all quite talented writers and rp'ers and I wish you nothing but good will and luck! Won't be playing, but I'll be reading.
Wary, and on guard, the dwarf speaks through gritted teeth. "We really should get moving and put some space between us and this place." He pauses, and then adds, "Delay is only going to bring trouble that I am sure we do not want, especially with that egg in our possession."
Limping a bit, the dwarf cleans his axe off and stands guard while Oskar searches the half-orc before offering, "Aye, We should get going...all that commotion is bound to draw out guardsmen."
RLCF! (Real Life Comes First) Have fun, and we'll be here. :)
Stunned by the half-orc's resilience, Ispen gives a grudging nod of respect to his foe...and then swings wildly at the mace-fighter when the half-orc tries to escape!
No worries!
Roaring in defiance against the half-orc's attacks, Ispen keeps his shield up and lets loose with a side-swing with his battle axe, intending to finish off his opponent!
Sparing a moment to glance over at his fallen companion, Ispen calls out, "Johnny Boy! Can ye fight?? Get up, lad!"
Squaring off against the half-orc ruffian, laughs as he blocks the other's attacks with his sturdy shield. "Bah! Yah hit like a three-legged boar stuck in a swamp...an' ya got the tusks fer it too!"
"Expect th' worst, lad, and we'll never be disappointed...get yer'selves clear, out the back. I'll distract 'em." the dwarven fighter strides past Oskar, muttering as he unsheathes his axe from it's harness on his back and steps out through the doors of the barn. "Hey. Doorknobs. Over here...Ever dance a dwarven jig a'fore?" As he calls out to the ruffians, Ispen winds up and swings his father's battleaxe.
Arching a bushy eyebrow at the odd cybernetic mage, Ispen mutters mostly joking, Mayhaps next time we need to be secretive and stealthy, ye might be the best ta be watchin' from outside. Can't ye control yerself, man?"
Ispen holds fast as Oskar turns, maintaining what he hopes is a stoic, but non-threatening glare. Only after the rogue passes him (hopefully), will the dwarf turn and follow.
Ispen doesn't move, but his eyes follow the elf's gaze, and then he grimaces at the gnome's reaction. It takes everything in his power, but the dwarven fighter somehow refrains from commenting.
The son of Traghor Ironborn glares at the elf and her four henchmen. Just glares in the manner of a bodyguard, much the way he'd seen guardsmen do at his father's brewery, when one of the customers was getting a bit too rowdy. Furrowing his brow, Ispen takes in the surroundings, sizing up the 'competition' as well as the inside of the barn. As he does so, he crosses his arms in front of his broad chest.
The dwarven fighter watches as the group prepares, blinks at Reu's creation, then shrugs and takes position on the opposite side of Oskar, mirroring Davorox. "Let's do this..."
Ispen arches a bushy eyebrow at the odd gnome, and shakes his head slightly, "Aye. Let's be getting on. Fer the journey "proper", like ye say." A pause, then to Sister Selene, "An where were that, again, M'lady? I ain't too sure o' where we're headin', specific-like. I know we're ta be meeting these fellows, but beyond that..."
*drops a hand
Leaving the tavern behind the others, Ispen plods along at his usual steady pace, his demeanor confident and sure. If'n I'm ta be a bodyguard, then I'd best act the part... His thoughts trail off as his newly assembled companions become almost instantly distracted by the arguments of three disheveled men and a young woman. Before the firey-haired dwarf can act, he sees Johnny Boy move to intercept the other group. Ispen pauses, incredulous at the delay, takes in the conversation as best he can and tries to ascertain what's happening there.
...and finds that his own irritation at the situation is too distracting. At this point, the dwarf drops a and to the harness of his axe, and tries to look tough. "People," he mutters, "We got places ta be..."
Back. Still sick.
Will try not to delay further. Edit: Sorry for posting in discussion as Kriznox the other day. lol
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