Sorry it's taken me so long to check in! I decided on a gnome cleric of Nethys.
Gnomes for the win!
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Jaladek peers over the goblin's shoulder at the newcomer dwarf. As Arfsnarf backs away with his magical rock Jaladek moves forward, with an air of renewed sociability. A smile crosses his face and he holds his hand out for a shake. "You're a bard..., and a dwarf! I've met many a traveler from Highhelm and not one of them was more talkative than an oak tree. What hold do you call home Grizmelg? I'll surely have to visit."
Jaladek's mind spins as he try to keep his composure while also absorbing the goblin's supposed ancestry. He keeps his straight face, yet can't help his 1,000 yard stare for a few seconds. He blinks a few times and refocuses on the fortune teller. "That's one amazing lineage you have. How does your clacky rock work?"
Alright. Thank you. I guess I'll cope with Jaladek's current profile.
Having been in and out of the lodge for weeks now, Jaladek, along with Munk, finds himself sitting on the floor and watching the other new Pathfinders introduce themselves. Munk, ever vigilant, sits up and puts his paw on the gnome's thigh. "I know. I just hate this part. Why can't jobs come from notes left in trees or something?" Jaladek sighs to himself and gets to his feet. He fixes his tunic and approaches the group forming in the hall. He slowly inches around to make himself visible to the goblin and human having their spat. "Uh, Arfsnark was it? I'm Jaladek. I've seen you around a few times. It's, uh, nice to meet you, goblin. What skills do you bring to this fine lodge?"
It's been a while since I created a new character. How does one add their faction to their alias?
Having finally wet his lips at a small tavern, Jaladek makes his way to a quiet corner and takes his boots off. Munk, being smart enough to not draw attention to himself, curls into a ball underneath Jaladek's feet, letting the feet rub his back while the gnome unconsciously swings his hanging legs. Jaladek, opens his pack and rummages until he finds his writing kit. He takes out a rolled sheet of parchment and gets a quill inked up and ready to write. 15th of Lamashan, Oathday. I've arrived in Absalom for the second time. I only spent an evening during my last visit but I now find myself at the end of my latest courier mission with no prospects. Munk and I are taking a much needed rest in Westgate, and this small tavern, The Bridled Boar, has two small rooms for rent. We've gone unnoticed except when buying wine and food. It seems everyone in this part of town is in too much of a hurry to pay mind to two small message handlers. Jaladek polishes off his goblet of wine and stares down at his trusty companion, who is now snoring just loud enough to make the gnome chuckle. Breaking the quiet moment, two men come in from the chilly afternoon, letting the tavern door slam behind them. "Sorry, Pryh! It's just so cold. Your iron door handle hurts to hold for longer than a second!" The first man says. The second man follows, "Yeah, Remmy here is right, if not a little soft, haha! It's going to be a cold fall. Say, you seen all them overly-prepared types making their way into town? Something's going on at the Lodge. Hope you've got fresh casks back there. Speakin' o' which..." Jaladek ends his eavesdropping and turns his attention back to his journal. Too muddled in thought to write more he rolls his parchment back up and puts his kit back in the pack. Munk perks up at the familiar sounds of clasps fastening and stretches, starting his own getting-ready-to-leave routine. "Okay, Munk, let's use what's left of the light and see what we can find out at that Pathfinder lodge." Boots back on and pack shouldered, Jaladek and Munk head off into the city.
That's awesome! I for one am happy with what I have seen so far. As a player who loves playing non-caster gnomes and underdog race/class combinations I feel like I have more flexibility right from the start.
What does everyone think of 2nd Edition so far?
A steely-eyed gnome walks onto the road, out from between two cabins situated at the edge of town. He has a bow draped over his shoulders, a full pack, and a short blade sheathed and hanging on his belt. His long brown hair sways in the light breeze, with speckled bits of tan and green that seem to churn across the scalp as the dust blows past his face. He gives his surroundings a once over, giving a few horse-drawn carts a moment's attention before turning back to where he came. He gives a short whistle through his teeth, and within a few seconds a young wolf, just barely not a pup, comes plodding into view. The wolf sniffs at the gnome's hand and the little man pats him on the head. "Let's have ourselves a bit of rest with a roof, Munk. We've certainly earned it." |