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Really sorry that I'm doing this sort of suddenly, but I'm going to withdraw from this game. I'm feeling like my Pbp's are a chore, and I'm not really having fun with them anymore. You can take me out however you please. Once again, sorry about this, and best of luck to you.
Jeremiah helps to clean up the campsite as best he can, and gets ready to leave back to the fort. He points at the smoke cloud and, in case anyone else didn't see it, says,"I think that's the signal that the Brevans have come. Best get over there to check up." He seems to have carried his good mood from the previous day into this morning.
Jeremiah listens on as Khargol also "steps up" to explain his circumstances, marveling at how calm and collected the half-orc is even when he's insinuating such things about his birth. He's definitely different than I thought half-orcs are, Jeremiah thinks. Then again, we're all rather off of the norm, aren't we? He graciously takes the compliments on the meal, saying, "It's really nothing much, I don't even have proper vegetables for it or anything." When Udoeak speaks as well, Jeremiah reflects on how strange it is that an elf can be so old and look so young. Already, this one has lived longer than Jeremiah will ever likely live in his entire life, and he's barely a young adult in their terms! Jeremiah has a small moment of pity when Udoeak suggests oppression in his past, but the elf doesn't seem too caught up in it. Hopefully, whatever hardships he had in his past are long gone, and he has moved on from them. Jeremiah waits for another to speak, and afterward politely declines Khargol's invitation to speak on Sarenrae now, saying, "I'd love to, but it is already getting late, and we should be starting off to bed, I think. I definitely will another time."
Jeremiah smiles at the compliment to his stew, saying, "Maybe not as good as my mum's, but good enough." He takes a swig from the broth before passing it on. He sits for a moment in the quiet, contemplating the fire and glad for the fellowship of this band of adventurers. Then he begins, "So, since I'm gonna be with you guys for a while, and since I'm sure it's crossed at least some of your minds once, I'll tell you about how I came to be here, and how I became blessed by Sarenrae." He sits up straight, taking a moment to compose himself before telling his story. "I was apprenticed at a young age to the local potter. I was a younger child in a fairly large family, so I wasn't to be my dad's protege. Instead, my parents carted me off to live in the house of a smelly old man, and be his servant for a while. It wasn't all that bad, but it was a dreadfully dreary time, and I knew that pottery was not my calling. I wanted to get out of there, and I quickly did. However, it wasn't exactly in a manner I had hoped." "While playing with my friends Henrick and Frida one afternoon, I was accidentally struck by a passing wagon and my leg was trapped beneath one of the wheels. I don't remember much of that; I passed out. I do remember having the most peculiar dreams at that time, of dead men rising and suffering being alleviated from the weak. At the end of the dream, I remember seeing a woman, standing proud with a curved blade, reaching her hand to me. As our palms touched, I awoke with a start, bright lights flashing before my eyes as an energy passed through my body. It felt unreal, like a fire jerking its way through my veins and out of every pore, yet not hurting me. The local priest, who was standing nearby me as I awoke and whose house I was in at the time, declared me a holy vessel, able to channel the energy of the gods through my body to mend those with wounds. Yet strangely, neither I nor the priest could heal this leg." "From that day forward I studied the teachings of Sarenrae, and learned to use the gift She has given me. Though it still feels like a stranger in my body, I am slowly learning, and some day I will be able to use this gift to make a difference in the world." Jeremiah ends his monologue suddenly, closing his eyes with a happy, naive smile upon his face. He leaves the silence open for whoever else wants to speak.
I'm personally okay with however you want to run it, as I said before. I'm enjoying myself thus far, and you've done a good job. It's fun to see how much we've strayed from our original game already. :)
When the group sets up the fire, Jeremiah gets to cooking a stew using the game that was caught. He hasn't done much cooking in his time, but he manages the simple fair easily enough. As he hasn't any bowls himself, he fills one of his waterskins with broth after passing it around to drain it. He picks out bits and pieces of the game with his hands, not being squeamish about it, and offering them if anyone else looks hesitant about reaching their hands into the stew.
As the party moves and Bimbur explains his choice in weapons, Jeremiah says, "Wow, dark elves? I've always thought they were just a story parents told their kids to scare them. Well, that certainly is an interesting story, I'm sure. You seem to have picked up the art rather well yourself." Jeremiah grins as he delivers the compliment, wanting to make a good impression and form friends out of these allies.
Jeremiah agrees with Anwel's sentiment with a smile, saying, "You never had a fresh coney stew before? My dad would bring some from the hunters, an' no one could make as good a stew as mum." He throws in a mmmmm for emphasis. He tries to help watch for tracks and other signs of game in the area as the hunting is being done.
Jeremiah says to Bimbur, looking slightly confused, "Thanks..." He's not sure what that's supposed to mean exactly, but he assumes it was supposed to be a compliment. Jeremiah looks to the dwarf as he adjusts his bow carefully and asks, in the way of small talk, "So, how did you first take up the bow? It is a skill that not many of your race practice, or so I am told."
Jeremiah lets the man take in the group without adding in anything further. This man seems like a hermit, and Jeremiah wouldn't want to overwhelm him with too many people vying for his attention at once. Instead he finds a good spot for his horse to graze.
Jeremiah finds the behavior of the others odd. After all, Oleg recommended this guy, so he shouldn't be hostile right? Granted, there is the chance that something could be amiss this very moment, and the group is now in the wild Stolen Lands (it still makes Jeremiah excited just to think the name of the area), so he supposes it's better to be safe than sorry. He makes a mental note to apologize to Bokken for the way they summoned him from his own home later.
It is obvious that Jeremiah is glad to have a horse now, though he clumsily handles it. Still, he keeps pace with the group now. When the group nears the hut, Jeremiah tries to dismount. However, he has much trouble, getting caught halfway out of the saddle, and ends up falling on his butt. He stands up quickly, looking rather embarrassed and rubbing his rear. Without further ceremony, he moves toward the house's entrance.
Jeremiah thanks Oleg for his generosity, saying, "Thank you much, sir. Sarenrae bless you for your good will." He smiles wholesomely after saying this, standing up straighter unconsciously and putting his holy symbol which hangs about his chest farther forward. Jeremiah is intrigued at the mention of the man named Bokken, and it seems as good a place to begin as any, so he suggests, "Why don't we start by goin' southeast, then, like Anwel suggested to begin?" He seems eager to get started.
Having come well-prepared for moving out into the wilderness, Jeremiah says, "I've no problem staying outside of the walls fer several nights, and I'd agree on yer choice of how to explore the areas. Just as long as we bring some to eat, in case we don't find game along the way." Jeremiah looks to Oleg and, as Anwel seems to have been polite enough to forgo mentioning his leg, puts to Oleg directly, "As Anwel said, we'd make much better time with a single horse, as I'd be slowin' down the march considerably with my leg. I'm afraid I can't offer a trade, as I don't have much t' give, but I swear I'll take fine care of it, an' bring it back hearty an' hale."
Jeremiah considers Anwel's suggestion, thinking with bitter humor to himself, Your day's march or mine? However, he replies, "Indeed, I feel as restless as you all seem, now that I am finally here. Surely we could find some use for ourselves nearby."
Jeremiah, not knowing how to shoot a bow and already having a dagger, passes on the weapons. To Bimbur, he says, "Indeed we still don't know much." To Happs, Jeremiah inquires, "You said he 'as a fortress. What are the walls made of? How many people are there? Are there any higher-in-command's we should know of, or any who can wield magic? Any special defenses?" Jeremiah allows the others to ask any questions they have about the fort as well. For this sort of thing, the more they know the better.
As long as "straying from the text" doesn't become level 2 beholder fights, I'm perfectly fine with it. :P Seriously though, do what you want. I'd prefer it when the DM personalizes the AP and tailors it to his/her own needs.
Jeremiah looks over to the gnome, not liking what he's seeing. He quiets himself by thinking, It is necessary, I suppose. As I said before, if we can't get the location of the camp, they'll likely assault Oleg's, and this wooden structure would likely burn. When Jeremiah thinks about all that Oleg and Svetlana stand to lose, he's able to quell the part of him that wants to protest. Torture still doesn't sit well in his mind, but if it must be done... As he finishes gathering the belongings of the bandits (leaving them in their armor) Jeremiah takes a closer look at the amulet Happs had on him. He also takes the coins and gives them to Oleg, saying, "Here, this is likely your coin in the first place."
Jeremiah finds Oleg's punishment agreeable. However, he thinks to himself, I do hope that group from Restov arrives soon, if they are going to arrive. Jeremiah goes to the bonded men not currently being interrogated and searches them, looking for hidden weapons first, then for valuables.
Jeremiah leaves the interrogation to Khargol, who seems to have it under control. He helps the others tie up the unconscious bandits before they become coherent enough to resist. With that done, he drags the body of the dead bandit out from the front of the outpost and to a suitable spot for burial. He looks over the dead man solemnly for a short while, then thinks a prayer to Pharasma and one to Sarenrae. Finally, he moves back into Oleg's to look for a shovel for a grave.
Jeremiah nods inwardly at Anwel's words, thinking, Thank the Dawnflower! I had hoped these folks wouldn't be so brutal as to murder these men while they're down, and it seems my hopes were made true. Dour though he may be at times, I think I'm likin' that elf. Outwardly, he gives an affirmative grunt after Anwel's words to make his feeling on the matter known.
Jeremiah moves quickly to the bandit who is bleeding profusely from his chest, not worried any more about whether the man poses a threat. He says to the others, "We should tie those ones up 'fore they come out of their sleep," while laying his hands on the bandit. (Provided he isn't stabbed for his trouble) Jeremiah closes his eyes and, after a second, a light swells out from his forehead and bathes all those in the area. His face assumes a grimace as this occurs.
Seems like a cool route, Khargol. Though I've often seen Dazzling Display builds, I've never played with one. I like it because it's a perfectly reasonable way to give the martials something more than "hit it with a stick".
Jeremiah's irises begin to shine with a holy flame. His face screws into a grimace as he faces the bandit leader. His hands form complex patterns he doesn't even recognize, though they somehow feel like the right thing to do. With a voice much more brave than Jeremiah feels right now, he declares, "Drop your weapon and submit to Sarenrae's holy light!"
Vitals posted.
Jeremiah stays as quiet as he can, not moving in his spot between the houses. A small gasp escapes him as the leader comes nito view for a moment, and his heart rate quickens as he mentally prepares for what is about to come.
Jeremmiah accidentally kicks over a broom which was propped against the side of the house. The ensuing thwack against the ground is especially loud, and he curses under his breath. Realizing he isn't going to be hidden by remaining in his current position, he slowly walks out of hiding and looks to the brigand leader.
I'd rather Jeremiah be between the buildings at T18, as the narrow line of sight means he will be much more able to hide until the trap is ready to be sprung. On the other topic, I am okay with you rolling in private. I trust you'll be fair about it (and if you aren't, what do I care? We still get a fun story).
Jeremiah votes for allowing one to escape, and swiftly following him. He sleeps anywhere he can get his bed roll, crashing after the exhausting day of marching.
Jeremiah listens carefully to Anwel's reasoning, yet still feels a lingering sense of doubt. If we beat them decisively, and they decide to burn down the place because it isn't worth the trouble... Yet he doesn't voice this concern. Instead he simply nods, accepting of the groups' decision. After all, Anwel might be right, though he does seem to be depending a lot on these people having a specific mindset when he knows precious little about them. Jeremiah speaks up to say, "Sure, I could close the door to get them surrounded."
Jeremiah accepts the wine with a muttered thanks, and sips on it as he listens intently to the others. After Khargol states his opinion, Jeremiah says, "Let's not forget, if we take out the one group they may decide to come in 'ere more aggressively. If we're going to ambush this group, we need to be able to eliminate the rest as well, to prevent a counterattack. Oleg, do you have any idea of where their base camp is? If not, is anyone here a tracker?" If Oleg doesn't know the location of their base of operations, Jeremiah suggests, "Perhaps we should not ambush them 'ere, but wait and follow 'em back to their base. If we could locate it and eliminate the threat all at once, it would minimize the risk to this place." To those who are perceptive of such things, Jeremiah's speech seems rather educated, at odds with his country accent.
Jeremiah asks of Bimbur in a polite manner, "Couldn't the tactical details come now? I'm all for stoppin' these thugs, just as you are, but I agree that we should know more about 'em, so we can form a good plan. Cuz a good plan is what'll make sure we come out on top a tha' situation." Jeremiah muses on the peculiarities of the dwarf, thinking to himself, He's not just physically unlike other dwarves, he's different in his attitude too. I've never heard of dwarves being anything but careful and planning thinkers. I wonder if he was even raised among his kin or not? He then looks on to Oleg, waiting to hear more details of the brigands.
Jeremiah eats thankfully and quietly, allowing the owners of the place to spell out their troubles to Khargol and Anwel. He doesn't add anything to the conversation yet.
Jeremiah stands up awkwardly, having trouble with his armor and his leg. He strides over to Oleg and offers a hand and a smile, saying, "I'm called Jeremiah. Nice place ya got here." Jeremiah is sincere; if what Khargol said regarding the fort is true, then this man must have worked hard to get the place in the condition it's in. Jeremiah takes off the heavy armor in the yard, and leaves it with his pack, glad to have it off. When the group settles in a bit, in between bites of food Jeremiah will start up first, "So, you said we 'ave some things to discuss, sir?"
Jeremiah takes the long-awaited break in the walking to sit down, which is made a difficult task by his armor. He pensively looks over the walls of the fort, and finds himself impressed, in spite of Garth's criticism. Maybe it's just because he's never really seen much in the way of forts, but Jeremiah thinks to himself, This place looks like it's held up against hard times before, an' it could do it again. Not a bad place this 'Oleg' has got here. He lets the others hail anyone living here while he rests his legs, his left leg feeling especially cramped after doing most of the work for a long days' march. He thinks, not for the first time today, I really should've gotten a horse.
...But I don't believe we would have started outside of Oleg's if we were not meant to encounter some NPC or solve some problem between where we are and our destination. If we were not, we could simply have started at Oleg's. This was my thinking as well.
Jeremiah has nothing to add on the semantics of the battlefield, and starts to walk as well. He plods along much slower than the rest of the group, obviously due to his bad leg. He leans on Khargol's horse when he can, though he doesn't look strained or in pain when he steps onto his bad leg. Perhaps that merely means it's been with him for a long while, and the pain is a familiar thing for him.
Jeremiah gives a light laugh, not sure what Bimbur means by "slip" but saying to him, "Well, I can slip as well as you, I guess. In fact, I'm pretty good at slipping off a horse and falling on my face, as I've done in the past." He then motions down the road, saying, "I'm with Khargol here; surely we can talk as we walk? We've a while to go still." Jeremiah decides to himself, Well, I suppose it's a good a group as any. They seem like the types who would be good in a fight, which is just what we're gonna need, I reckon.
Jeremiah replies to the gnome pleasantly, "I've no doubt the untamed land will have plenty opportunity for adventurin'. By the way, what is that goat doin' with you? Is it your pet?" Jeremiah looks to the strangely colored animal with fascination. He's sure the gnome must be a mage if he can change the goat's color at will as such, but he doesn't know much else about the gnome. Apparently he missed the mutterings.
Jeremiah scoffs at Anwel, thinking to himself, Not all of us may be unique but I... His thoughts go back on themselves, as Jeremiah thinks, No, he's got a point. I may have a gift from Sarenrae, but I can't let that get to my head. I'm as green an adept as there ever has been. Still, I wish he'd keep a more positive outlook. He keeps a frown, staring at the talkative elf for a few more seconds, before looking carefully at the rest of the group, each in turn. Hopefully the rest of them can keep some better cheer, or else I may have chosen the wrong group to go off on an adventure with. Jeremiah replies to the elf's sentiment concerning honesty with, "That, at least, I can agree with." Sway the fates of countries? I thought we were to just scout the land and rid it of this bandit problem. I wonder if his charter is the same as mine? Perhaps instead he knows more than I. Jeremiah mulls over the elf's words carefully. As he continues to look over the rest of the group, Jeremiah pays special attention to Khargol, nodding slightly to himself at the half-orc's devotion to his god. With a small smile, Jeremiah says to him, "A good helping of order would do much to ease the suffering of the smallfolk of these parts, so I think you an' I are on the same track, friend. An' thanks for the offer, I think I may take you up on it." I think I should get to like this one. Maybe I should talk with him at length later.
Jeremiah replaces the charter into his pack and looks to the group as Anwel leads the conversation. From his stance it's obvious he favors the right leg, and when he shuffles in place it becomes obvious he has a severe limp. He remains silent for much of the conversation, gazing absentmindedly down the road. By the gods, I should have gotten a horse as well. Jeremiah scratches at his neck, where the scale armor is chafing his rather delicate skin. Jeremiah decides to pipe in after Anwel, saying, "I simply don't see that, sir. Just because the Swordlords 'ave sent people in before us don't mean that they're sendin' us on a suicide mission. Maybe they think us a more capable lot?" Jeremiah looks at the elf dubiously and thinks to himself, That one's rather cynical himself.
It's not that Jeremiah can't stand in a melee (decent con, and heavy armor, will make him a bit meatier than most casters), it's that if we're trying to be mobile and evade something THEN he can't be engaged, or he'll likely fall. Also, the -6 Ride is with scale. It'll tank even lower when I get proper armor. :P I considered picking up a trait for Perception, but decided the flavor of the trait wouldn't fit well enough. And how does Mister Crossbowman ever survive in the city without Bluff, Diplomacy, or Know (local) on his class list? :P Edit: BTW, don't mind how pissed the picture of my character looks. He's actually a pretty nice guy, I just couldn't find a better picture to represent him. Despite all the jokes he took for being a cripple in the last group, he didn't cast Oracle's Burden on a party member once, so that'll tell you how patient and forgiving he is. XD
Had to remake the statblock, cuz I didn't save yesterday, but Jeremiah's ready to go now. Just as a head's up, Jeremiah's a lame oracle with heavy armor, so if he gets engaged in melee, he's pretty much guaranteed to fall off his mount and stay for the fight. Thus, if something we'd rather avoid is chasing us, we need to make sure it doesn't engage me. :P |
