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'at's racist, lad. It ain't like yer readin' this in a terrible faux-Scottish accent or nothin'.
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For the record, lad, it's 'Torag.'
At the tavern, Khron sinks comfortably into one of the chairs, ordering a drink. He spends the rest of the night comfortably inebriated and chatting with the others, enjoying the spoils of a hard day's work.
Khron sighs as his shoulders droop. "'at could 'ave gone better."
Khron is all leveled up and good-to-go.
Neat. I'll update shortly, then.
Sold!
I forgot to ask: a recent FAQ says that the Sacred Fist and Monk abilities (AC Bonus (Su) and AC Bonus (EX)) shouldn't stack, but I know this ruling doesn't sit right with some people. What's your opinion on it, GM? Really, it's just going to change which archetypes I take (if they DO stack, I'll go MoMS/Sacred Mountain, if they DON'T, I'll go MoMS/Sohei).
Deftly dodging the wolf's attacks, Khron once again clasps his hands together and attacks.
Khron glares at the wizard, clenching his hands together once more while winding up for another punishing blow.
Right. Take care of what you need to, man.
As the zombies collapse, Khron takes off towards Kathal, fists clenched tightly. "Yer gonna regret startin' all 'is, wizard!"
Khron grunts as a pair of zombies surround him. Winding up a mighty two-handed strike, he shifts a few feet to his right and swings powerfully at the undead creature, teeth grit in exertion.
Khron shuffles over towards the wizard, his brow creased in frustration. "Ya'll wish ya hadn't started 'is, Wizard!"
Khron's eyes are drawn by some movement, an cursory glance lets him know that more zombies are coming... and also by the one controlling them from the shadows. "Th' wizard!" he cries as he points at the necromancer. Then he turns and strikes at the zombie closest to him with a powerful two-handed blow.
Khron moves towards the zombies, breathing hard due to his injuries.
Khron charges the ogre, capping the movement with a powerful shoulder check into the creature.
Khron growls at the ogre, clutching the wound in his side. Turning tail, he rushes back to the group. "Maybe not me greatest plan!" he shouts as his thick, stubby legs carry him away from the oversized humanoid.
Khron ducks down into his fighting stance, eyes full of fire. He begins to chant in dwarven, before an slight aura of white light surrounds him. "Don' say I di'n't warn ya, ugly!"
I'm not seeing the graveyard at all. Just the outside of the tavern where we fought the zombies.
Khron steps forward, sitting deeper in his fighting stance. "'ey, big an' ugly! Ya ain't gonna be diggin' much lon'er!" He then charges at the ogre, ready to strike.
Roll call?
Khron cracks his knuckles. "Aye, I'll drink t' 'at," the warpriest agrees, sinking into a fighting stance.
The Toragian leans back against a wall, arms crossed. He keeps a keen eye on the goings on, but chooses not to stop Gotin and K'leck. 'Sometimes ya jus' gotta let folk do dumb thin's...' he muses to himself, worried that they might be biting off a bit more than they can chew.
Khron follows Gotin into the mausoleum, giving the halfling a short look as he admires his own reflection in the sarcophagus' facade. "Yer a loon," he chides. He then sidles up next to him and tries to inspect the structure.
Khron punches a fist into an open palm. "Damn slip'ry wizards," he complains. "Now 'at, lads?"
Khron sits heavily in his stance, ready to strike if the wizard tries anything. "This ain't th' toime t' be quiet, ya git. If ya won' talk 'en 'is is gonna get roight unpleasant."
Khron moves up to stand next to Kathal and stares the wizard down. "Yeah, lad, it'd be a roight shame if we 'ad t' get violent," the dwarf says, doing his damndest to look imposing.
Khron nods at Ezra, before stomping over to the door of the mausoleum. "CLEAR OUT!" he shouts before kicking the door open.
Khron nods in agreement. "I ain't much at hoidin', tho'," he states, stroking his beard. "I'll stay in 'ere an' wait for th' bastard."
Khron walks up to the immovable door and knocks on it a few times. "Honestly, lad, I ain't no moiner. But if i's strength o' arm an' o' will yer lookin' for, I'm yer man."
Khron casts a light spell on his fist, holding it as high as he is able to act as a makeshift torch, before following K'leck into the mausoleum.
Khron peers into the empty grave, trying to detect any magic that may still cling to the coffin.
We're digging up at least one of the graves, are we not?
Khron crosses his arms and harrumphs at the whole situation. "Gonna 'ave t' get our 'ands dirty if we're gonna figure out 'at's causin' all 'is. Lit'rally, in 'is case," he says, though he looks less pleased about the idea of disturbing the grave than he sounds. 'Silly tradition or not, I know it ain't roight t' mess wit' the restin' place o' th' dead... but some'un a'ready did, so I s'pose 'is is jus' somethin' we gotta do,' he thinks to himself, looking between the other merc guild members.
Khron gives the graveyard a once over, slight distaste at the other races' form of burial. 'No won'er 'ey 'ave t' deal wit' th' undead all th' toime. Jus' leavin' 'eir dead layin' round. Returnin' 'em t' th' stone's much safer,' he thinks to himself as he keeps his eyes peeled. "We need t' keep our wits 'bout us," the Toragian instructs the others. "I don' trust necromancers nor th' unlivin' as far as I can throw 'em."
"Unless he have other motive? Only reason I can think of to respond way he did to us." He takes a sip of his drink. "Glifdore one paying us though. Maybe he have idea of what would be most helpful. If he not here when Ezra and Banana return, maybe we go find him?" He pauses. "Unless Ezra and Banana still asleep? In which case we wake them up, yes?" The big grin on his face clearly indicates that he's already trying to think up amusing wake up calls. Khron grins at the Shoanti man. "I can agree t' 'at," he says. At that very moment, Ezra arrives! The warpriest turns to see the Asmodean enter the tavern. "Oi, Ezra. C'mere. We're plannin'," he explains simply to the Chelaxian, a wry grin on his face.
"Aye, sounds loike a plan," Khron agrees. "Gotta cut 'em off at th' pass. 'at Mayer fella ain't gonna be able t' close us down if we solve all 'is undead problems," he says, a wide smirk plastered on his face.
The dwarf shrugs, grumbling. "I don' loike none o' 'is. 'fficially disbanded? Peh! Sounds loike somebody don' loike us cleanin' up af'er 'eir messes. The lot o' us should jus' go foind 'is fella raisin' 'em monsters an' bash 'is 'ead in. He's ruinin' a perfectly good city, an' my chance t' foinally do Torag's work." Khron takes another drink, the alcohol not seeming to affect him at all. "You saw 'ow we handled 'em last noight. Cuttin' 'em off at th' source woul'n't be a problem for us. An' I don' know 'bout you, but I don' loike 'at Mayer fella. Fixin' th' problem to spoite 'em sounds loike a good plan, eh?"
As soon as Khron awakes from his peaceful rest, he heads down to the bar to indulge in the pleasures of booze.
The warpriest shrugs, heading off to his own room to rest for the night.
When Khron notices the others turning in, he leaves his spot in the doorway and moves to get an explanation from one of the others. "Take it he spilled 'is guts, 'uh?" he asks.
Khron remains steadfast in his position in the doorway, but his gruff countenance turns to one of mirth as he hears the halfling letting Payk have it. He whistles, impressed.
Khron moves to one of the doorways, planting himself solidly between the doorframes. His wide shoulders stretch from one side to another, and as he crosses his arms, he is very clearly not letting anyone out who he doesn't wish to leave.
Khron thumbs towards the bar, in the general direction he heard Payk talking from.
Khron sighs heavily. "I'm thinkin' our buddy Payk ain't as legit as he's been tryin' t' make 'imself seem," the warpriest tells the gathered men. "Jus' 'eard 'im talkin' t' somebody else in th' bar 'bout some fella wit' a staff, raisin' th' dead and commandin' 'em," he explains, cold fury burning in his amber eyes. "If he's been workin' wit' th' ones who're sendin' those damned things into th' town, he's got some explainin' t' do..."
Khron grumbles, an angry noise coming from the back of his throat. "Oi, lads. Shut yer traps for a minute. I'm 'earin' somethin' I ain't loike th' sound of...," he trails off, his fists balled tightly at his sides.
Yeah, no.
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