Krenin's page

It takes only a moment for Krenin to deruffle himself, coat and hair adjusted by nimble demi-fingers. "That may be somewhat difficult, as they are, to man, nameless. Merely notate us as 'Lord Krenin plus five.' That should give them plenty to gossip about..." As he speaks, Krenin wanders over the the prostrate almost-drow and looks down. "My Liege," he starts, conversationally, yet still clearly capitalising that L. "What is your position regarding ritual sacrifice of defeated enemies?"

The distant relative goes directly for the nearest affront to it's sensitive nose: Defenceless drow flesh. The nameless scamper inside, away from the assault, but the near-mindless mutant is as single-minded as it is swift. It leaps, tortured vocal chords releasing nothing but a near inaudible hiss. Krenin is bowled over backwards through the opening, which seals slickly behind the group.

Teeth bared, weapons out of reach, the drow and the almost-drow can only flail at each other ineffectually. Mostly ineffectually: Krenin's tentacle fingers ooze and elongate, sliding directly for the throat.

+Something, for some reason (please, I only have 2hp): 2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6

"Greetings friends!" He calls out from the floor, mid-grapple. "Will be happy to deal with you in a moment!"

Turning on the Ol' Charm: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (6, 4) + 2 = 12

They can interpret "deal with" however they would like.

"Here goes nothing."

Defy Danger with Dex, shimmy shimmy shimmy: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (6, 1) + 1 = 8

"Stay close everyone. They'll take us out one by one if they get the chance. Evidently the bindings down below are broken, someone more talented than me will need to those before they'll leave this place. SL1: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (2, 2) + 1 = 5 Now, a few drops of an heir's blood should be enough to wake the walls SL2: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (4, 3) + 1 = 8. Whether they'll welcome us after that remains to be seen. Mumei, keep an eye out for us would you? I'm not liking the look of that swarm..."

+1xp. Mumei can discern realities for me, right?

The three high families were divided by bureaucracy only. We were all only a few intermarriages away from becoming a cohesive whole. Genealogy aside, they were all uppity prudes, paranoid schizophrenics, uncontrollable narcissists and magic users. So run-of-the-mill dark elves. Each family however, liked to cultivate it's own branch of magic, one of their many preening affectations. One was obsessed with demonic pacts, another with psionics and mind-rending. Krenin's "family", as it were, always partook in the summoning of elementals. Specific parts of the walls and grounds may still be alive, or at least, only dormant. If they can be awoken, it should make for a much more pleasant stay here.

A rather unfortunate aside: A generation or two ago, the excessive fervor towards of maintaining the purity of the family bloodlines combined horribly with the magical delvings. That is to say, the genetic flaws combined with fell magicks to cause nearly an entire generation of dark elves to be born twisted and malformed, crudely broken rather than elegantly insane. They were shunned, their latent magic bound, and trapped below the grounds. The new children were born with carefully mixed blood, then sent to garner additional "diversity in the stock". Hence, Krenin's very unofficial role as wandering gigolo and hitchhiker.

Those creatures wandering the estate? Krenin's second cousins, of course.

Just checking in, are Krenin and the gang enroute to the castle still, or have I missed something(s)?

Bonds: Zip. I need to interact more.

Motivation: Not yet. Soon though... Soon...

I'll take those other 4 XP thanks.

"That sounds plenty castle-y for me. So long as the demi-castle does not also explode while we are in residence, everything should be fine."

Krenin unbelts himself from the boar and stretches, every joint clicking majestically. He stands, perched delicately on the back of the boar, and surveys the surrounds. His tone has changed subtly"The beasts, much like you lot, have served me well. "Ferdinand", assist "Mumei" with carrying the food. We must maintain our strength, so eat when you must. Beyond this ash-scape we should find fodder for the boars SL: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (2, 1) + 1 = 4. We ride for Dunkleheim!"

I'll take both of those options regarding Scout and Quartermaster, Ferdinand will carry the food and Anamika will try her hand at being the Trailblazer.

During the trip, Krenin talks frankly to his shoulder-mounted god. "Am I doing what is right? I must protect my little flock, but I must also swell our numbers. Perhaps once we discover the condition of Dunkleheim we may have some leverage over the unfaithful...?"