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"Common, creature. DO. YOU. SPEAK. IT." Jhereg snarled, if these pathetic creatures had moved into the ruins for shelter, and were only defending their territory, he did not want to slaughter them if they had nothing to do with the ghostly lights Wrin had been so concerned with. He looked to his companions, "Grab some rope, bind this poor wretch, it sounds like something is coming."
Jhereg brought the wretched creature close to his face, his brow furrowed, the rage emanating from his bronze skin was almost palpable. The light, searing bright. "Why do you attack?" He shook the miserable thing, "Surrender and live. Fight," he looked towards the two fae corpses, "and suffer the same fate!" Turning back to the piteous creature, "Now who will speak for your clan?!?"
To clarify, I used all my three actions, if we are still in initiative order, I can't ... So we're out of combat, or is it someone, or something, else's turn?
Are we still on initiative order, or can I try to coerce the Mitflit?
Jhereg whirled, seeing Dhruva's bolt slam true, driving through the maggot's form. He nodded his thanks, before sprinting back towards the stunned Mitflit, he roared his displeasure at the diminutive creature, a moment of clarity gleamed in his eyes, as he shifted his grip on his maul, reaching his hand out to grab the blue-skinned fae by the throat.
Sorry, busy weekend, and the game got away from me. Playing catch up. Attack vs Mitflit, 20 vs AC, for 9 blunt & 4 fire damage. Then move towards the Grub and miss with a 6. Good times, and sorry about the delay!
Jhereg hissed between clenched teeth, the charging fae's blade swung low, the rage fueled warrior twisted his hip. The blade bit, but not deeply, fiery blood seeping from the shallow cut. Seeing the large maggot-like creature approaching, he continued his momentum, his hands low on the haft of the maul as he swung it in a full circle, the maul humming through the stagnant air towards the creature's head. He then, surged forward, closing the distance between the maggot and himself, bringing his hammer down in a vicious overhead smash.
Jhereg grunted as the Mitflits advanced, wary of the pale worm-like creature they were shepherding when they initially encountered the group of them. His brow furrowed, as he leaned towards his opponents, "So be it," he whispered quietly under his breath. As he did so, he summoned forth all his ancestral fury, his rage, the pain of his loss, combined with the guilt of his own failure, pain, guilt, shame, all mixed in his breast, combining to create a potent mix of anger, rage, and aggression. Flames began to flicker across his shoulders, racing down his arms, until the head of his maul seemed aflame, engulfed in fire. He surged forward, swinging the massive weapon in a wide arc.
Jhereg approached the blue skinned fey cautiously, his maul held loosely in one hand. "Easy there, little ones, looks like you could use a hand." He slowly picked his way across the drawbridge, ready to sprint to the other side if it began to collapse, "We don't want to fight you," he glared at the maggot, "and could help you if you let us."
Sorry for the delay, working nights and my head get's fuzzy sometimes, so I don't post, or don't feel creative enough to do a good post. Anyways, a quick scan of the area as Jhereg prepares to bash some heads if more spider-imps attack us.
Jhereg, once on the opposite side of the bridge, took a wide stance, his knees slightly bent. This would allow him to shift his weight in any direction, the mitflits attack, though unsuccessful, did make him wary as they proceeded deeper into the ruined structure. "Careful, the one who escaped may have alerted others," he paused, "and if we've angered a community of those things by trespassing here, we may have a fight on our hands."
Holy crap! 60+ is rough, I couldn't imagine! You take care of you, I'm sure we can save your spot until work dies down to a tolerable level. We might ND to just abuse you for heals until then!
Absolutely!
Jhereg was not blind to Dhruva's glance, the momentary flicker of fear, revulsion, at the violence with which he ended the conflict. He had seen it similarly writ on his sisters face, and even then, he had felt both guilt and shame for his actions. Asuulek had chosen him to be a slayer, molded him to be such in fire, fear and flame, it was all he knew, until his sister pleaded with him to leave their village behind, to see a wider world than they had ever known. That desire for freedom had killed her, Jhereg's fellow slayers had stalked them as they fled Asuulek's wrath. He hadn't been vigilant, and that lapse had cost his sister her life. Even if it cost him his companions respect, even if it earned him their fear, he would not allow harm to come to them, not if he could still draw breath. He hefted his maul, turned his attention to the fleeing form of their assailants. Shrugging he then turned to his companions, "If they know what's best, they will keep running until exhaustion takes them. We should be cautious, there are likely more dangers as we progress deeper into the ruins." He grunted, considering the Burned Man's cowardice, "Given the flight of one of our own, are we sure we wish to continue? As disagreeable as he was, his bold claims did pique my interest."
Sorry for the delay, Thanksgiving and all, it's been busy! Also, what a waste of a 20 ... if they stay at range it's wasted, heh.
Jhereg hefted his maul, holding it in a wide stance able to go in either direction if the mitflits, or whatever Dhruva had called them, swarmed the group. He stared down the green glowing eyes, his fierce nature transcending language barriers, his foes knowing that rage and hatred flowed through his veins.
The broad shouldered Osirian man hefted the javelin he had used to drag the dagger closer to him, and looked up. Tracking the way the cobwebs were swaying in the afternoon breeze, he checked distance and tossed the weapon overhead, trying to hit one of the peepholes from which the dart had been shot. A trap? He thought to himself, or a chamber behind where these creatures have blowguns? As he tossed the javelin, he growled towards his comrades, "Take cover!"
Damn I forgot to acknowledge Hammid's departure in my In-game post. I'll rectify that with my next one though. Out of Character, how are we on heals without a Cleric? I know Battle Medicine is a thing but it's got a cool down on it, and Jhereg, as a barbarian, isn't going to be the one to do it due to Rage mechanics.
Noticing the reflection from something metallic, Jhereg moved cautiously towards the dagger. "Something here, careful." He looked over his shoulder towards Dhruva, "Careful, the wood is rotten, I would not trust the bridge." His warning spoken, he shifted his maul into his left hand and drew a javelin in his right. He spread his legs, leaning forward to fish the dagger towards him with the javelin, slowly, in the event it rested on rotten wood. He did not wish to crash through into the blackness of the unknown below.
Without looking back, Jhereg nodded, comforted by having companions he could trust at his back. "Born on the slopes of raging volcano, my tribe enslaved by a dragon, as ancient as the mounted, as red as it's molten heart. My childhood was naught but ash and flame." He exhaled as he spoke, glad Dhruva was behind him, could not see the grief writ on his face as he thought of his Jhegaala. "The heart is a powerful thing and mine burns bright for the sister Asuulak took from me."
Jhereg moved through the cobwebs, slow, careful sweeps of his man clearing the way. He noted the collapsed roof, careful of insects and spiders that might lurk above, perhaps used as sentries by the mites. The planks may be rotten, may conceal a it, or a hidden attacker, he ointed out the rope to his companion, "Careful, collapsed ceiling there," He indicated the hole above them. He traversed the breadth of the room carefully, watching for movement above and ahead. Another rotted doorway ahead, given the fetid waters of the bog, it was to be assumed much of the structure would be rotten, supports weakened, including the bridge ahead.
That's disappointing, I liked the character and saw alot of potential for growth.
What's the light level like? It's still daylight, correct?
Jhereg had been silent fir most of the trek, Furious at the burned man's words and his arrogant ignorance of either hospitality or honor. However, as he walked the forest played out against his anger, and he released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in his anger. Even as the terrain shifted from hills and forests to fetid swamps,his eyes darted back and forth, first looking for threats and danger. However he quickly realized the bog was teeming with life, moss, reeds, fish, insects, birds, and larger predators. So when they came to the ruins of the lighthouse, it was like seeing the bones of some massive guardian, standing silent vigil atop the island hillock surveying the wetlands that surrounded it. However, as the scent of predators assailed his nostrils, he heated his maul in two calloused hands, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. Time then, he thought to himself, to get to work. He moved in a low crouch across the threshold, ensuring his bulk.didnt block Dhruva's line of sight, in the event a predator appeared he wanted her to have a clear shot. Once through the rotted remains of the door, he gave a low Whistle,hoping to attract any predators who may think him easy prey.
As an FYI I'm out if town this weekend, I should be back and hopefully have a post up tonight or tomorrow. Sorry for the delay!
I'm just coming off of midnight shifts, I'll try to have a response up later tonight or tomorrow morning.
Jhereg will likely be behind Dhruva, I'm going to take the Scouting exploration activity allowing us to gain a +1 bonus to initiative in our 1st combat encounter.
Jhereg turned to stare through Hammid, "Burned man," he intoned quietly, "it would please me if, in future, you decline to speak for me, my honor, or my obligations, of which you know little and less." Though his voice was controlled and quiet, the fire in his eyes spoke clearly of the offense he had taken at the elf's interjection. The subtle threat quickly subsided, as their host spoke, Jhereg nodded. "Your offer of charity is appreciated Mistress, I just wish to protect you from the consequences of our actions, guided by the burned man's ambition. If nothing else, you have my thanks." With that he stalked from the hut, following Snag and Dhruva. While not, entirely, unfamiliar with traversing the forests and crags of the isle, he would defer to the ranger's expertise. He followed her lead, while cautiously shifting his brutal maul from his shoulder to his calloused hands.
As their host offered to extend them credit, Jhereg regarded her with something approaching shock. "You are our host, Mistress, this venture is Hammid's doing, and his responsibility. While appreciated, I, for one, will not accept your charity. If there are consequences to delving too deep into these ruins, I would not have any consequences befall you because you offered our foolish venture your aid, or your blessing." It was a custom among his tribe, having grown up in the shadow of Asuulak, an ancient dragon, paranoid and ambitious, given to murderous rages that would leave entire clans of devoted slayers as nothing more than pillars of ash. When one undertakes an activity that could cal down the Wrath of those more powerful than one's self, you do not accept charity, for to do so is to invite ruin into a neighbour's house. He was unsure how it worked with spirits that would haunt ruins, curses, or sorcerous apparitions, still, it seemed best to observe the old ways.
The large Osirion shrugged, "I agree with the tengu, we should grab some supplies and observe the lights at the ruins. If there is a mundane reason for them, bandits, slavers or such, we can deal with it. If it is something more," he patted the spellbook that hung at his hip, "of an arcane nature, we can investigate. Carefully. In the morning." He looked to their host, "Mistress Sivinxi, do you have mundane supplies? Bedrolls, tents, mess kit?"
So it's about an hour or so out of town, I'm fine with camping. What's the current season? Should we bring tents, or would bedrolls suffice?
Jhereg scratched his shorn scalp as he listened to Mistress Sivinxi discuss the venture with the burned elf. He spoke, his booming voice pitched low, respectful, "Mistress Sivinxi, does your tome contain a map of the ruins beneath the tower, charted out by previous expeditions?" He was sure the information would be inaccurate at best, misleading at worst, but if they could find any information on what to expect as they descended into the ruins, it would contribute to success.
Jhereg listened to the discussion, however, he was unfamiliar with the local lore. He was used to living in the shadow of Asuulek, members of his tribe would be taken to their master's lair for the slightest infraction, never to be seen again. So the fact that his companions were concerned with the dangers that lurked within the ruined tower amused him. The ruins only presented a possible danger harbored outside Otari, one that had been quelled, if the stories of the locals were to be believed. He shrugged, following the conversation, however, he had little to contribute, he truly was an outsider. He looked to his sister's spell book, visible through the top flap of his backpack on the floor beside him. She would counsel patience, to be silent and listen, let his companions underestimate his cunning, his curiosity.
Jhereg scoffed at the burnt man's boast, it was an ambitious remark, one meant to instill confidence in his fellows, but it was poorly done and did little to set the large Osirion man at ease. Wrin's casual dismissal set Jhereg's lips curling in a poorly contained smirk, he nodded at the gathered company, allowing them to enter first, before he, himself followed Wrin inside. "Thank you Mistress Sivinxi," he intoned respectfully as he passed, "For for sharing with us shelter, and most importantly, your wisdom on the journey ahead."
You can't take a Dedication at 1st level, it's at 2nd level,in addition to your 2nd level class feat.
I was going to go for Low Light Vision, however, with Bright Soul I emit light as a Light cantrip at all times, so no need for Low Light ... so I will be taking Natural Ambition (Raging Intimidation) ... which allows him to use Intimidating Glare while raging. Also, Scare to Death but that's beyond the scope of this game, sadly ...
Ancestry Paragon rules are here.
Free Archetype rules are here.
So to clarify we are *not* using Ancestral Paragon, but *are* using Free Archetype?
Regardless of Free Archetype, I'm going Sorcerer (Dragon) and Dragon Disciple,if we're using FA rules, I'm just able to do it quicker and fill out some Barbarian feats in the early levels.
Dammit, now I'm torn between Natural Ambition (Raging Intimidarion) or Ember Eyes for Low Light Vision lol. I'll see if we're doing Archetypes too before I decide.
Wait, we're doing Ancestral Paragon too? I'm so confused!
Are we playing with the Free Archetype rules? ie. We get a free Dedication at 2nd level,and every even level thereafter?
The large man just smirked, walking over to where ranger and hound waited. "No bother, just want to make sure if some slime covered tentacle comes our way, she's not gonna run to it looking for treats." He looked to Moonlight, as the man tried to gather information, and perhaps barter as-yet undiscovered goods for profit. There was something about the man that Jhereg did not quite trust, and he had learned, long ago, to trust his instincts. "How is it," he whispered to Dhruva, "that an elf with most of his jaw burned through, can speak so quickly and whose words are as ephemeral as the wind?"
"Most of my songs come from old tales. It would be nice to write a few of my own, if only had the proper inspiration." Jhereg regarded the tengu carefully, having never met such an avian creature before. "I've yet to meet one such as you, bard, however, should you wish accompaniment, I have been known to play the shepherd's pipes with some, small skill," the large man shrugged. "I would, however, be pleased to hear the music of your --," he stopped suddenly as Dia rushed him. "--tribe?" He was then waving at Dhruva, and reaching for some dried jerky to feed to the ranger's companion. "And here I thought that a ranger would have some control over their companions?!?" He laughed as the pointer assailed him for affection and treats.
After the night at the Nook, Jhereg returned to the small hovel he maintained outside the woodsman's camp at the edge of town. It's thin walls did little to mask the noise of the logger's snores, but it was private and, given his imposing stature and prodigious strength, his peers respected his privacy. Before we went to bed, he placed a slice of bread, some honey, and a handful of blackberries on a small table. Above it was a hook, from which hung a necklace of volcanic glass, beads, and a crudely carved bird in flight. He smiled, a broad, genuine smile, he stayed up for a time, telling his sister of the companions he had met that night, their intention to explore the Gauntlight. He touched the necklace with a thick, calloused finger, then brought it to his forehead, his lips, and finally his heart. "Jhegaala, I love you, I miss you." He left, unsaid, his great sadness that the slayer's dart had not found his flesh rather than his sisters. "I failed you once, never again." His nightly ritual of remembrance complete, he fell into a deep, dreamless, slumber. He woke early, stretched, and began his day. He read the journal, Jhegaala's spellbook, his notes scribed in it's margins, he knew the entries by heart, having been written by his hand, but it recounted his journey, their journey, the pursuit by Asuulek's slayers, the attack which wounded her, her succumbing to the poison, his rejection by the Arcanamirium, and his eventual settlement in Otari, where he laid her to rest. Strapping his boiled leather and hide armor across his massive form, he grabbed a satchel which carried his personal belongings, and hefted his maul on his shoulder. If exploring was to be done, he would not fail his companions as he had his sister those many months ago. The goblin, Snag, had mentioned, several times, the owner of Wrin's Wonders, Mistress Sivinxi. As he ventured down from his hovel closest the flume, he followed the road north and west, to enter Otari proper. Wrin's was on his right hand side as he entered, his shoulders covered by his worn travelling cloak, the haft of his massive wyrm fashioned maul protruding above his left shoulder, he waved at the assembled companions, nodding his head towards Wrin herself as she hugged the ranger. "Morning to you both, a bright dawn blesses a new venture."
Having pledged his service, I am fine to move forward with the scene. However, I wanted to point out to Hammid, that while Jhereg isn't doing the crushing grip thing, it is a firm, strong arm clasp, hand to forearm, squeeze, type deal. But there is a definite heat you can feel that close to his bare skin. Not painful, but noticeable ...
Jhereg's smoldering eyes regarded the unwrapped face of the burned man, he did not flinch, nor did he seem to be shocked by the violence that had been inflicted upon the elf's face. "I have witnessed the fires of Asuulek, which cause mountains to flow like wax, melt a man's flesh from his bones, before both disappeared in ash, char, and the echoes of screams." He paused, nodding, never taking his eyes from Hammid's, "But I am sorry for the violence that has been inflicted upon you, and while I know little, and less, of this Cosmic Caravan, it's value, to you, is writ clear in your voice." He leaned forward now, "A man who swears a thing upon something he holds dear, is a man I will trust. Unless I am given reason not to." He stood, thrusting his hand forward, yellow-orange light flickering across the table, the fire within his veins pulsing for all to see. "I am Jhereg Draegaran, a slayer born. Your name? So our cause be joined in spirit and intent, I will see you to your goal, if by my aid, such is obtainable."
Quick question, in regards to my Ancestral Feat, Bright Soul, since it is, in essence, a permanent, innate Light cantrip, can it be slightly concealed with a thick, hooded cloak? Kind of like a hooded lantern vs a bullseye lantern? ie. my face directs it out like a cone, the cloak preventing it from being a full radius? If not it's cool, just wanted to check prior to actual combat or exploration encounters.
Jhereg smiled at Dia, scratching the Kotsoi pointer behind the scruff of the neck, he nodded towards Dhruva as the ranger joined them. "Hauling logs, splitting logs," a scowl that could be a smirk, "no runaway carts this day though, they have learned to be more attentive,"[b] down towards Dia, [b]"haven't they my friend?!? Yes they have." Quieter, this time, softer, "Yes, they have." He nodded towards the odd assembly at the table, "This sand swept merchant comes bearing a tale of danger and riches to be had." He shrugged at his friend, "Though I am inclined to trust him as far as I could throw him," as he spoke, his brow furrowed, and his deep brown eyes seemed to smolder like two pieces of charcoal, the threat of violence should the merchant be less than truthful would be clear to a blind man.
The large, broad chested Osirion man grunted as the strangers joined him at the table. He lifted his chipped clay tankard, "To your health," he muttered in a gravelly voice, before draining his cup to the dregs. He shrugged as the squat goblin, and the swarthy skinned merchant began to discuss inhabitants of the town, ventures, and ruins. "If you are looking for local history and rumors, head to the Dawnflower, speak to High Priestess, she's a kind woman with a bright mind, and eager to educate the ignorant." He grunted, soaking up some fish broth with the crust of bread. On seeing the ranger and her hound, his face broke out in a broad smile that, literally, lit up the room. "Dhruva!" He called, while thick, calloused fingers picked a fish head out of his stew and tossed it to the fine looking dog.
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