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Patting his round, but solid belly, Kortus looks at the options, but knew already what his choice would be. "I'm not one t' say no to a free meal and I'm thinkin' Risa will pay for mine today. A cider for the new Bobbin' Champion is fittin' I think."
Smiling, his white teeth flashing briefly before being buried by the thick foilage of his beard, Kortus looked down to his heavily calloused hands and back to Liliana. "Mainly I a simple mason, but when Erastil summons, I am also a lesser Warden of his woods. Today Ol' Deadeye has smiled and truly blessed this day as one of celebration."
Same here. Where else can a dwarf inspire a crowd through simple slapstick comedy? :)
I will do the sack race if anyone wants to, but otherwise I am willing to move forward with the plot on a high note. :)
"Keep your eyes peeled, Those two seek blood, and if we aren't careful, they will end up getting it." Anaach says, twisting the butt of his weaponry into the dust. His smile faltering some with Anaach's words, Kortus nodded his head. "Aye lad. I'll keep the eyes sharp." Glancing up and seeing that Lars is now sitting atop the wall, Kortus pointed and waved his hands in broad gestures. "Well done lad! Ye climbed it like a bear was chasin' ye!"
Patting Remy on the shoulder, Anaach moves towards the climbing wall, coming to a stop near Kortus, "How is the competition going, Friend?" "It was just what Ol' Deadeye knew I needed. As ye can see by these kids, Lars will be the hit of the day. I saw ye took care o' your end easy enough."
It seems that Kortus missed his calling and should have been a bard instead. Sheesh!
Laughing as the kids swarmed him Kortus tried to answer each and everyone as best he could. As Lars left to try his hand at climbing, Kortus tried to focus the kids on him. "Ye should all cheerin' the Great Masked Man on next. Not t' ruin a surprise, but they say none know who he is and where he came from! Now get over there with me and make some noise!!!"
With that Kortus unleashes another deep roar and rushes with the kids to cheer Lars on.
Wyoming is a long way from Philly. Everything ok?
Grinning broadly as the water drained off of his beard and to the ground, Kortus looked up in time to see Anaach and Remy dispatch their tug-of-war foes. ~They are as strong as oxes to make it look that easy.~ Walking back to Lars, enjoying the clap on the back as he passed from some of the kids, Kortus looked up at the masked human. "Now lad, get out there and have some fun! No need in letting us keep you from it."
As a beaten husband, I am male, yet only get to enjoy those perks when allowed to be. :)
Looking at the smiling faces of the kids, Kortus knew that he had to keep going. ~There is nothing in the heavens that ever sounds so sweet as this.~ Giving a mighty roar, doing his best to mimic a bear plunging into the stream hunting for salmon, Kortus plunged his head back into the barrel.
Congrats on already having a place lined up, as the real estate search here is brutal. My wife is self-employeed which means the state doesn't recognize her as having any income, so our options for things that aren't crumbling death traps are very limited. :) That being said, looking forward to you joining us for the fun and games with the townsfolk!
I am really enjoying getting the RP time in with the group, so no worries from this side. Hope taking the initiative on the perform was ok and feel free to discard if it doesn't fit the flow.
Cheering with the crowds as the festival is started, Kortus grinned broadly as the inner child in everyone was unleashed in this moment. It was the same with dwarves on their festival days where every member of the clan raced to get their axes and hammers for the tossing. ~And Brigit could split a pea with her hatchets. You would have enjoyed this my love.~ Clapping his hands together, as much to settle himself as in excitement, Kortus glanced up at the young woman who had just joined them. "It would be an honor t' escort ye around the games ma'am." Switching quickly to goblin he spoke up to Lars. Goblin:
"Nod your head and smile. I know she won't see your face, but it will show all the same." {Cut to games} Seeing the kids gathered around the apples, Kortus' smile returned even larger than before. "I say we give the kiddies a show." Pulling the leather bindings from his beard to give him a full unkempt look as he neared the bobbing stations, Kortus waited his turn before plunging his head into the cold water and snapped around trying to grab an apple.
Rising up from the water, with or without an elusive apple in tow, Kortus blew water into the air trying to exaggerate it for the kids.
Laughing, Kortus approaches Lars. "That was always a big hit with the clan as well.
Sorry for the slow posting this weekend. We are currently searching for a house, we just relocated in Dec back to Boston, so this weekend was spent at viewings/discussions and me trying desperately to keep my daughter from wearing her mashed potatoes all the time. Heading over now to get caught up and let the games begin!
Nodding in greeting to the lady as she moved to stand next to Lars, he nodded as the masked lad asked about seeing all of it. "Aye lad. There be as much t' see as ye can imagine and much more." Granted Kortus' own experience was limited to Highhelm, the Red Mountains and points south that he saw while traveling with Jacob, but there would be time to cover those points later.
Bacon and bourbon being my primary driving force, but others may disagree with that stance. :)
Welcome back and here is hoping the power understands that gaming is the second driving force of the world. :)
No worries on my side about the pace, as I have been enjoying getting some RP in with the group to make up for what I lost prior to start-up.
"Ah... Mind if... Tag along?" Lars said the words somewhat sheepishly, knowing full well what he was asking. Lars had never went farther than Sandpoints walls his entire life, really, and with his funds slowly getting undercut by Grovi the idea of going out and really getting to know the rest of the world was something he'd enjoyed the thought of. "Sandpoint is home, yeah? Me, though. Me home. But... Leaving, yeah? Thought about it... Thought about it for a while." he says the last sentence with surprisingly accurate common. Surprised that the man would offer to go, Kortus' first reaction was to tell the lad no, as there was already an ocean of blood spilled by the wyrm. ~But who is to say I have to let him know all of the plans. If he wants to see the world, I can travel and gain strength from Erastil and still have time for striking the beast. Their lives are but candles to its and mine.~ "I'm not good at showin' sites, as I'm still more mason than Warden, but if'n ye want t' travel a while, I would welcome ye lad."
Be safe and sorry to hear about the disruption of power.
"Ah... a Question, yes? Folks.. Leaving, after festival, maybe?" Considering the question, Kortus tried to maintain his smile but it faltered somewhat. While he had only meant to come to Sandport long enough to honor his promise to his mentor and friend, the week had turned into a month and then into almost two years of doing odd jobs and some simple Druidic tasks. Erastil still granted him full access to the bounty of nature, but Kortus knew that if was ever to go after the red wyrm Longtooth, he would have to leave the city to learn the deeper mysteries of Erastil's Wardens. "I don't know if I'm t' be leavin' as soon as the final pint is poured, but there is a skuldir heiður that I aim t' settle in the Red Mountains." Dwarven:
Debt of honor ~I know you will be ranting to Erastil that I promised you I had made peace Jacob, but ye had to know I was full of dung.~
Kort was surprised at how good he felt about inadvertently helping to unlock Lars' communication issue and when Remy began asking the masked man to begin teaching him some of the foul language, Kort felt soon Lars would have another to communicate with in his "native" tongue. ~But why in Torag's name anyone would want to call it that is a larger mystery.~ "I'm t' be thinkin' if Lars helps ye squeak and sqwak like those rockbiters, then ye might want t' practice on them that come near his house on Junker Edge. Ye can both lure them over before bashin' their melon heads into pulp."
While Kortus' early life only included the basics in fighting, as every dwarven man and woman were trained to serve in the militia as needed, he could not imagine the young human surviving for 15 years waging a solo war on the rockbiters. The creatures were too much like rats to survive if they ever tried to swarm him with their numbers. Goblin:
"I do not have your history with the rockbiters, but it is good that the gods have seen fit to keep you safe in your war with them. Did the townsfolk not seek to aide you? I know that Hemlock patrols the town, but did he pay you for patrolling the edges?" As the man took off the mask and reverted back to common, Kort did likewise. "Apologies t' ye all. My manners be rusty when it comes t' some things."
Goblin:
"I understand. We are taught this tongue soon after we master our own and before we learn common. Others then learn orc as well, but I never took to it, one lesser tongue was enough for me at that time. Now I wish I had been a bit more disciplined." Looking to the others and back, Kortus' face broke back into the easy grin again. Goblin: "I am not sure if the others can speak it though, so you may be forced to work with Common while you travel with them."
And Google translate Icelandic for the win! I figure I will use it for when I want to throw something out there in dwarvish, if that is ok with you guys.
Draining his mug quickly as the music starts and everyone began walking towards the stage, Kortus wondered if the brothers-in-arms would mind his company a bit longer, or if he should give them their space now that the main event is soon to start. However as the largest of the men carved a space, more due to his size than the goodness of the fellow festival goers, and motioned them all over, Kortus lent his own girth in making room for them all. Realizing that he would be looking at far more backsides than stages, Kortus just shrugged and vowed to make the best of it.
His ears automatically translating the jittery tongue of the rockbiters, Kortus chuckled. "It is never about hearin' the words lad. Just knowin' what they want t' say. But why in Torag's name would ye wish t' speak just rockbiter? Tungumál dverga er það sem þú ættir að vilja." Dwarvish: "The language of dwarves is the one you should want."
Taking a deep pull from his mug, Kortus scans the crowd of people once more. "I've been livin' here just shy o' two years now and never laid eyes on so many folks comin' out. I guess today the gods be smilin' on us all."
I am also behind on getting my char sheet squared away due to some RL stuff last week and this weekend, but I will have it done by Wed of this week. Can't wait to get started as well.
Still smiling, Kortus nodded to each of the men as they were introduced by Anaach. "Kortus Ironhelm, but most around here call me Kort. T' be true, if ye are buyin' the first round, that gives ye the right to choose which one ye like better." Looking at the combined weaponry of the men, Kortus hedged his bets before he spoke. "I'm guessin' ye are all hopin' t' catch the eyes of merchants wantin' extra hands after the festival today?"
Getting laughed at was something Lars was certainly used to, but he usually understood why. This time, he most assuredly did not. "What funny?" he asks out of suspicion and cluelessness."I am sorry, friend, but by drink I meant alcoholic drinks. They make you feel merry and suit celebrations well." Anaach tries to explain but cannot find the words, so he calls to Kortus, "Sir dwarf, please help me find the words to explain to my friend what it is like to drink of ale, or rum." Turning as he was hailed by the group of merry-makers, Kortus smiled as he was asked to explain the pleasures of drinking. "I'll be glad t' answer all questions, but t' do so, I'm t' be needin' a pint as a visual aide." Pulling on his shaggy beard once more to dry it out, Kortus approached the much larger man smiling as he did. "Think of spinnin' a blade so fast that it makes ye eyes cross. Now think of that spinnin' blade being trapped in a glass waitin' for someone t' come along and set it free by takin' a sip from the glass holdin' it. That my lad, be what it is like t' drink the rum." Sighing happily Kortus continues, "But ale. Now ale be a sign that the gods love us. Nothing says it better than a pint raised in celebration on a fine day such as this." Apology: Sorry all, the doc drugged me up good yesterday, so I just saw this.
I am open to some joint hooks with Kortus if anyone is hitting the Sandpoint drought section. I have him coming to Sandport about 18 months ago and while saying he has been doing mason jobs and similar low level stuff is fine with me, I don't mind him branching it out. Just want to avoid the "You all look like trust worthy fellows!" start, unless we need to do that.
Lol, fun runs... Just as much fun as mandatory fun days... 5 years in ARMY as a PATRIOT guy. I had the same argument regarding my lower back, which I still can't get any actual help with... Oh well. I can relate to that one, but mine has all been mastering the paperwork drill to just try to make an appointment to see a new Primary doc since we relocated to Mass. Even though all my records are online, they still want to pull the paper copies etc. Makes it hard to smile and nod when all I want to do is frown and knife hand. :) But on happier footing.... Kortus would be a Sandpoint transplant at the start of the adventure. Having lived in/around the town for the past 12-18 months primarily doing freelance masonry jobs for donations and sleeping anywhere he happens to stop for the night. The site of the squat bow-legged mason patrolling in/around the woods searching for "damn rock biters" would also be common enough.
14 aboard ship and 3 as USMC support augment. Now I am a civilian after Uncle Sam and I had some fundamental disagreements on the structural integrity of my knees, but it is nice to have a beard and laugh when the people around me invite me to do a "fun run".
To echo the others, I am excited that I made the cut and look forward to getting to game with everyone. I have had a great time getting back into PbP gaming now that I am not TDY all the time. I promise I will do all I can to give the game my best as it seems I will have some big shoes to fill to keep up with the group, :) I normally can post from 0400 - 1600 and 2000-2230 EST. The gap in the afternoon accounts for the commute home and spending some quality time with the baby before she goes to bed. Now time to go back through the history and enjoy the RPing in the discussion thread while we all hammer things out.
Washing the mason dust from his face and beard from one of the many public rain barrels, Kortus could see the square filling up with festival goers. ~To think I almost missed out on the party.~ Stepping out of the way as a group of brothers-in-arms passed him, Kortus smiled remembering seeing many similar gatherings amongst the dwarves. ~You can take away all things, but men of the craft always join together easily.~
I know I may be too late for this dance, but this was a char I designed a few years ago before I had to take a gaming hiatus due to RL demands. I can scale him back to level 1 if selected, but I think the concept is a sound one. Appearance:
Kort is a a scarred, squat dwarf with bowlegs and a bulging belly of muscle, he stands 4'3 and weighs 200 lbs. His blond hair and beard is full, but unkempt, and he constantly seems to carry the smell of fresh tilled earth upon him. Background:
Kortus' life changed the night that his wife and clan were slaughtered by a red dragon seeking to convert their small mountain community into its lair. Spared this fate by being out on a trading run with other craftsmen when it happened, Kort and the others were greeted upon their return by the sights of fiery devastation. Searching, but failing to find any survivors, the dwarves fled before the dragon took notice of them as well.
Gathering his few possessions into a pack, Kort left that night and vowed never to look upon his home again until he could avenge his wife and clan. The dragon that devastated his home was nicknamed 'Longtooth' by the few survivors because of his mouth has a great overbite. Roaming across the countryside aimlessly and full of grief, Kort found a new purpose in life quite by accident when an old huntsman named Jacob offered to share his fire and meal with him. Normally Kort was was wary of accepting hospitality, as he had been robbed many times in his journey, but there was something about the man that filled Kort with an instant trust of him and he accepted the offer. For the next three years, Kort would travel and learn the ways of Erastil from Jacob parting ways only after helping him with his Final Hunt, the last act a worshiper of Erastil preforms before passing a natural death. After burying his friend, Kort headed North to the small town of Sandport, meaning only to stay long enough only get some fresh supplies and to visit Madame Mvashti. Jacob had often spoke of his wish for Kortus to visit the Varisian elder, as she has long been a friend of the druids in the area. Driving Force:
While Jacob has helped Kortus find inner peace, the one thing he could not do was remove his friend's hatred of all dragonkind. Rationally Kort knows not all dragons are evil, but there is the splinter of hatred there all the same. He does hope to restore the balance of life and death by gaining enough strength to return and hunt down Longtooth the Red. IC conversation: As Kortus set the last stone in place, he leaned backwards allowing the tension to ease out of his back. While repairing the fence was a minor job, it still felt good to work with his hands all the same. It had not taken long for those in his adopted home of Sandport to learn that a trained mason who worked for ale and sausages was often too good a deal to miss.
"My thanks Kortus. I don't know why the boys insist on knocking over my fence all the time. Honestly, I don't know what they find so interesting here." Glancing at the stern faced woman before him and the smirking face of her daughter, Kort felt that he knew what kept bringing the boys around to this part of the yard. "Aye, it be a mystery t' be sure Goodie Cat'rine. Perhaps ye might consider taking up Hostler Otis on gettin' a guard dog. Ye never know if that might slow them down some." Watching the smirk on Goodie Cathrine's daughter face increase, Kortus knew that nothing short of divine intervention would stop young lads from chasing the lasses. ~As it didn't stop me from chasing Brigit.~ Forcing the dark thought away, Kortus picked up his tools and gratefully accepted the small bundle of smoked meats and the skin of ale. "A good day t' ya both, and if ya be needin' me again, just send word." Walking towards the heart of town, Kortus looked around and smiled. While the human city was nothing like his first, and true home, he could not deny it had grown on him over the years. It was true that he was not as active in patrolling these days, but Erastil knew Kortus still kept his ears open for anything serious and that was good enough for them both.
Sorry for the huge delay, but I finally have made it back to Boston after getting my son. I will read the thread today and get a post up tonight.
After following the others down, Kortus and Whisper stay at the edge of the prison cell and allow the others to do the talking. While he knows that the prisoner must be someone of importance, due to the heavy interrogation they were giving him, thus far it did not seem to be working very well. ~I say leave him t' the rope and let the gods deal with his treachery...~ After the large plainsman stood walked to the edge and stood beside him, Kortus shrugged his shoulders and offered a brief word of encouragement. "Erastil teaches that the rains fall on the saints and sinners the same. If he won't speak to us t' save his hide, then let him go t' the grave for his deeds." OOC: I am leaving for DC in the morning to pick up my son, so I will be out of communications until tomorrow evening.
Fine, let's go then." Izbahn says ungraciously. "We are going to have a chat with a prisoner in the town, before heading to the tunnel." Stepping out of the man's way, Kortus fell in behind the group and followed them out of the inn.
Ignoring the goblin's question, Kortus looked at the two men. "Time is wastin' and Madame Mvashti's cards say that the answer t' beatin' the rock biters will be shown through a vision. I'm not t' know more than that, but maybe ye are t' know more than me." As Izbahn comes to the defense of the goblin, Kortus' grip on his staff doesn't waiver. "He be yers and ye can do with him what ye want. The rest we can figure out as Erastil wills." ~No wonder Jacob kept t' the woods. I need a drink...~
Stepping between the goblin and Whisper, Kortus lowers his staff quickly and his voice drops to low growl that mirrors the one coming from Whisper behind him. "Ye take one more step closer and I won't stop him from tearing ye t' shreds." Looking back to the one called Izbahn, Kortus' tone doesn't change when he speaks. "Keep yer pet on a close leash. I don't trust their kind beyond the reach of my staff..." OOC: Yep...here comes the fun.
Glancing back up to the man in front of him, Kortus nodded his head at the repeated request for help. "As long as all of this party seek the destruction of those who have attacked this town, Erastil's blessins will be granted. Whisper will also be able t' seek the rock biters in their holes and flush them out like quails."
As the stranger approaches him, Kortus' nodded in greeting a second before his eyes took in the goblin waving to him from the table. ~Shades and sandstone! What is one of them doing in the inn? Could she have literally meant that they have a goblin working for them against his own kind? Do they not realize they can't be trusted?~ Trying to find his words, Kortus has a hard time looking away from the goblin. "Aye. I have been told ye are seekin' the rock biters out..." ~By your bow Erastil, what have ye gotten me into...~
OOC:
My apologies for the slow weekend, but between wedding planning and Father's Day festivus the weekend was booked solid. Secondly, AWESOME post on the Harrow reading, great stuff and I will definitely be visiting her again if/when we get the chance. Rising from the table, Kortus nods his head in thanks to the Seer. "I thank ye for the readin' and know ye spoke true with yer words. If the Great Huntsman sees fit, I'll call on ye again when we return. It might be the others that be gettin' the readin' though. I aint one t' tempt the gods by buggin' them too often. I think it is best if I find the others and get t' chasing the rock biters." Leaving quickly, as well as carefully, Kortus heads in the direction of the Rusty Dragon thanking Erastil that Whisper made finding the right building easy. Patting the cat on the head quickly, Kortus didn't delay long in heading in. "Good lad. Give me just a few minutes and I will grab ye somethin' t' snack on before we head out." Opening the inn door, Kortus scans the early morning patrons until he spots Venmirl. OOC2: Tag everyone.
OOC::
Sorry for the delay, I was working with my fiance at her office today, then had a table top game this evening. Thinking on the matter for a moment as he sat across the ancient woman, Kortus' gravelly voice seemed to echo strangely in the cramped room. "I would ask t' know where the lead goblin can be found."
Great stuff also on Madame Mvashti, as I am still almost convinced that the young woman is actually the person I am here to see and she has just taken in a random old woman to keep the appearance. In the boiling kettle, her potions of youth made from all the odd things she has in her house. Or maybe I have watched too much X-Files today...Am I really that transparent? Dang ... I suppose you also know that that cat is actually the BBEG of the campaign? I knew it! Now to get Whisper so he can wrap up this campaign in a jiffy. :)
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