"Thank you both, but I'm a danger to you all, and the mission. Be careful out there," and then Johnathan blinks out of existence.
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Johnathan lowers his voice, but in this quiet moment it's not hard to make out what he's saying to Delft. "Every day I...things get more confusing. I thought I was better, that I had it under control, but it's getting worse. I keep seeing things, moving, just out of sight, just in the shadow, in the corners of my eyes. And every time I close my eyes I'm somewhere else, infinite, all void and emptiness--but not empty, not really, something watches out there--and when I strike out to defend myself, from these things, from those shapes moving in the corners of my vision, from the dark figures, they turn into regular people, friends," he doesn't sound afraid, just tired. But desperation begins to show through the cracks as he goes on, "I've hurt people, accidentally killed...innocents. And now when I see something lunging at me from the dark, I hesitate. I wait to see if it turns out to just be an old shopkeep asking me if I need help, or a friend checking on me, or you. If I go back out there, I'm either going to hesitate and get someone killed--or I'm going to hurt a friend. I can't risk that."
Johnathan is standing next to Delft when you all arrive, wearing plain commoners clothes, no RHC uniform. He watches the ritual quietly, stoic. Before they go, he approaches Cretien, expression unreadable. "Be careful out there. If you die, I'll be the only one left," he holds out a ring and amulet. "You'll need these more than me. Good luck professor."
"And quickly, if you want to beat their messenger."
Johnathan nods respectfully to the minotaur when he enters, awaiting the news. "We have to go then!" Johnathan blurts, excited, then disappointed. "I have to stay...but you have to uncover it then, whatever it is they're hiding."
"That is... really uncomfortable. The Brakkan just told me he's a telepath and read Jierres' minds, and to let him in," Jonathan looks around, unsure if anyone else heard that or just him...
Johnathan seems intensely interested when Cauldron Hill pops up, but can't seem to follow the politics of whatever is going on. At the King's request, Johnathan looks around for Delft, to see if he has permission--then remembers this is The King and hurries to follow. He whispers loudly to Cretien, "Did you hear him say Cauldron Hill? Through the Bleak Gate?"
Johnathan leans over to Cretien, curious. "Asrabey, have I met that one? The name sounds familiar."
"The subrails seem fun," Johnathan comments cheerily and earnestly.
Johnathan waits to speak up, thinking. He listens to Rognar, listens to Femi, and Cretien... then raises his voice quietly. "I...want both to be able to exist...I never had a choice with magic, it was forced on me. I like watching Cretien--Constable Dufrene. Pursuing what he loves by choice and doing amazing things with it. I don't want the people of Risur to not have a choice. To be stuck with magic like I am, or to be stuck without it. Magic can be beautiful...sometimes." He smiles sadly to Cretien then looks away at something that apparently only he can see, his brow furrowing slightly.
In between eating, Johnathan keeps staring at Femi's tattoos when he thinks Femi isn't looking.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," Johnathan says when he realizes he just interrupted a conversation and promptly turns and hurries away in a brisk walk without stopping, red-faced. He slumps back into his chair at the dining table and pokes at the remains of some kind of shellfish on his plate, trying not to cause any more embarrassment.
"I-I feel like we're talking past each other. I'm going to...go...have a drink. I um--it was wonderful to see you," Johnathan hurries away before he embarrasses himself further. He spots Rognar and takes a moment standing behind him to think about what he'll say. "Hello!" he blurts, then mutters something to himself--and seems to answer his own muttering immediately with a harsh whisper. It is not reassuring. "I um--do you always trust your visions?"
Johnathan nods, apparently satisfied enough. "Skyseer visions can be...symbolic, you have to interpret them. Maybe seeing Risur become more like Danor was 'Risur being destroyed', just because it changed," he looks at the nearby painting, a glowing scene of Danor's industry, with men and women working hard under reddish purple skies. "I hope I haven't offended you. You and Cretien are my two favorite people," Johnathan tries a hopeful smile.
"Was...that a no?" the young man glances nervously at anyone who might be staring at him and adjusts the stiff collar of his dress jacket.
Johnathan nods nervously, a little intimidated and maybe a little enamored. "You too, I mean I'm glad to see you too, uh, you look lovely," he smiles sheepishly. "I wanted to ask you something, if that's okay..." He waits for her response, then asks, "Do you think Danor plans to destroy Risur and the Unseen Court?" He seems earnest, not accusatory or upset, just calm, meek and curious.
Johnathan finishes a bite and sets his fork down lightly and speaks softly, "We have to venture far far from the people who could give us orders...we have to be flexible and make d-decisions with consequences, out there, with no one to direct us. J-just following a list of rules isn't enough for how complicated it gets out there," During the intermission, Johnathan excuses himself to go talk to Lya Jierre.
Johnathan makes a small shrug, not looking up, "Not much point to killing her as punishment, she'd just be a martyr. Besides, what if she turned out to be right about the vision? At least if she's in prison we could let her out and say sorry."
Johnathan continues eating, then seems to realize someone asked him something. "Uh? The Duchess?" he thinks for a moment. "She was...trying to follow a Skyseer's vision, or something, right? Those are never clear. Always riddles...seems crazy to act so rashly on one, but well-intentioned I suppose," he goes back to eating.
Johnathan sits and tries the soup, seeming to enjoy it. He glances up at the political intrigue but doesn't comment on it, wary of causing a stir. "Just...trying to keep my mind occupied. Delft has kept me busy with desk-work, but the stillness is difficult, the voices get louder. I have to keep my head down until my suspension is over. I've been trying not to cause trouble for Delft so...I've kept the magic to a minimum." He gestures to Rognar, "Is that your new Skyseer?"
"And worse to come," Johnathan says solemnly, eyeing a tray of hors d'oeuvre as it passes but not making any move to take one. He seems to realize something. "New faces...a-are you saying the others died? Sarya? Angus? ...Falko?" His eyes pass over the new party members sadly.
Johnathan fidgets at the stiff cuffs of his jacket. "Well, I sort of...got suspended. For awhile. I think I...well I k-kind of killed someone, accidentally. They kind of slipped? Delft has been helping me a lot. To deal with everything," he looks around the party a moment, quickly gets overwhelmed and returns his focus to the island of a familiar face. "S-so I'm just doing what they tell me to do now." Frowning as Cretien's expression darkens, Johnathan nods in understanding, "I still have dreams about Joseph and Wintry getting washed into the ocean. Joseph...w-we were the same age." His eyes are drawn to Femi's tattoos when he introduces himself, then looks away and quietly responds. "Hi."
Staring wide-eyed at all the people, the thin young man of maybe eighteen seems to be trying to appear as small as possible. He looks like he's staring down a horde of charging orcs, sweat already on his forehead under messy dark hair, but his face brightens when he spots Cretien and he hurries over to stand awkwardly before the tiefling. "Uh--Cretien, it's been a long time--I think. You look...well," he forces a clearly uncomfortable smile. Johnathan is noticeably taller than he was last you saw him, with fuzzy facial hair finally starting to come through, even just in the span of a few months. He's dressed in stiff, ironed fancy clothes, probably never worn before. Before you can respond, he quickly speaks up, "I'm not back. Not 'back' back. You know?" He smiles apologetically.
Here's an article for some ideas on how to translate firearms into Eberron. Firearms in Eberron Another idea is changing them to purely shoot magic, no gunpowder or bullets. So maybe instead of 2d6 piercing it's 1d10 lightning damage. And instead of "You can make 40 rounds of ammunition", change it to "You can recharge your weapon worth 40 shots". That would jive would the rest of the gunsmith's abilities. All that said, if the GM feels this would take away from the 'Eberron' feeling of the game, and you're just as happy with the Alchemist anyway, then this is a non-issue.
Would love to closely link my character to another PC, if someone's into that and I actually get selected. I.e. siblings, best friends, enemies, long lost romances, whatever works for the characters. I always find games more interesting when there's pc-pc history.
His idea for a Silver Flame Arcane Archer is pretty rad
Warlock - Vessel: This is a twist on the enemy patron, with the idea that a spirit has been unwillingly bound to you – that you are a living prison for a powerful rakshasa or Fey. Your powers are a manifestation of the spirit inside you, and the more you use them the more they will grow… but is there the risk that the spirit could escape? Meanwhile, allies of the prisoner could seek you out and try to kill you in order to release the spirit within. That's definitely on theme with what I had in mind for my Faithful concept.
I think recruitment closes.... January 8th.
The Blunt Tool: You’ve always been treated as expendable, but you’re smart, just a different kind of smart.
Name: Stitch (they/them)
Personality:
Background:
Ally: Drevan ir’Roole: male human noble, former Brelish cavalry captain: Formed a close bond in the war, Stitch saved his life, but doesn't remember it. Contact: Edge: female personality warforged mercenary. Marched together on more than one occasion. Stitch has some memories of their conversations, but most is fragments. Rival: Max Murlock: male human private investigator. Has a pet theory that Stitch is a serial killer. For all Stitch knows they could be right. Hopes not.
The Flawed Faithful: You believe in a higher power and live to serve it. Deep down, there is a wound that needs healing, a hole that needs filling, or a past that needs forgetting.
Name: Les Colworn
Personality:
Background:
Ally:
Contact:
Rival:
Falko? Long time. Well you are always an awesome RP-er, so I'm definitely interested.
"OH fascinating, they're some kind of tourists?" Jotting and scribbling notes.
"What brings you that way, if I may ask?" Johnathan jots a couple notes.
"Teacher's pet," Johnathan smiles again. "Where you headed?"
"Claude Waithe, I'm a university student--it would be sort of like an interview? If that's okay?"
Johnathan finally emerges from his cabin, reluctantly, and searches for familiar faces. For some reason he heads straight for the scarred lady and offers a hand--a notebook and pen in the other. "Miss, would you mind talking with me a moment?" He smiles disarmingly.
Johnathan proceeds as if barely aware of his surroundings, practically catatonic ever since they arrived in the dead magic zone, silent. It doesn't seem to be anything physically effecting him--just a kind of psychological stupor. Cretien may guess it's from the feeling of powerlessness and vulnerability. The only sign of life from him are when he smiles faintly at the half-orc child Tarro's excitement at sewing an arm back on. As soon as possible he retreats to his cabin to read.
Johnathan continues smiling blankly and following with. Once he finally has some time to himself, he spends the entire 10 days staying indoors and studying. Cretien: "I hate this place. I feel so helpless without my power...I feel like a normal person," he confesses at one point. "The magic comes from my blood, why doesn't it work here..."
Johnathan smiles cheerily at the Tiefling, having no idea what she's saying.
Johnathan hides during the day, and sleeps on the deck under the stars at night. He particularly avoids Hux (for whatever reason). The only person he talks to is Cretien, and only in whispers. Cretien: "I hate this place. I feel so helpless without my power...I feel like a normal person," he confesses at one point. "The magic comes from my blood, why doesn't it work here..."
Johnathan stares at Axis Island the whole way past. When the captain makes grim predictions, Johnathan speaks up plainly, "We won't sink on the coral."
so thats 5000gp (5 days) from both of you for two Belts of Physical Might. Ima try to make one thing for each person if possible, then if there's days still left I'll do more. Still have 14.5 days left.
Constable Holbrook is a young man with messy dark hair, and a messy RHC uniform. Not tall, and very skinny. His eyes are brown and unremarkable. He has a vulnerable, sad smile. Something seems odd about him, his mannerisms, the way he speaks. Seems shy, but genuinely nice. Something about him makes you want to help him. Even with an RHC crossbow he doesn't look threatening at all. He offers a thin, weak hand--and a matching smile. "Johnathan." If Hux shakes his hand, he'll wipe it on his shirt after and avoid eye-contact.
Alright here's my Create Wondrous Item list: Belt of Physical Might +2 (Dex/Con) 5000gp (5 days)
That leaves me with 1529.5gp, and 24.5 item creation days. So if anyone has gold and wants items made just gimme a list, first come first serve.
I think I may have screwed up. I did a post search to find where I listed the stuff I wanted to craft, and I found an earlier post I made, back at level 4...
I removed the gold but never actually added the equipment :/ At level 5 we got a 4500gp stipend:
I'm not sure what the resolution should be, but apparently I've cheated myself out of goodies for 2 levels now..
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