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Scales? Kriv thinks tetchily.
Lifetap vs Ref (1d20+3=16) damage (2d10+3=17) Kriv strides with great purpose and levels his bow at the goblin; his eyes glow yellow as he draws two darts of light from nowhere. He sees an inner core of light in both the goblin and the dark haired mage. With a though he launches one dart at the goblin and the other at Ben, and a streak of yellow energy surges from the vile villain into the firey tempered wizard.
Damage to each hobgob (if hit) (1d6+3=6) Kriv's mind perceives the weave of magic surrounding all things, and he pulls a thread from that weave and ties it to his next dart. It flies towards the hobgoblin warrior, trailing blue arcane energy! The magic wire entwines around the two evil brutes, driving barbs into their life-force...
Kriv tries to get to the door, but flame in the face has a habit of distracting one... Angered by the wanton destruction of the goblins, he rolls out from behind the bar and with a mighty roar engulfs the attackers in a gout of flame from his mouth!
Fire damage to D6 and E7 (1d6+2=6) "As you like fire so much, taste your own destruction!"
Kriv moves to the door and crossbow loaded, peeks out into the street to see if there are more hobgoblins on the way.
Kriv grunts grimly. "So end the unjust."
Crossbow attack (1d20+3=18)Force damage (1d6+3=8) Kriv notices his new dwarf colleague at the bar and dashes for cover . Grimly he fires his bow at the one of the murderers His bolt turns into a small dart of energy as it strikes the hobgoblin!
Surprised by the raiders, Kriv loads his dart-bow and misses one of the raiders! Cursing himself he loads again and tries another shot.
Your Grace? Is that some dwarven attempt at humour? "I am no priest, if that is what you mean." he says simply.
Kriv stands up, alert for danger and concerned for the youth. He strides over. "Allow me," he says quietly. With great delicacy he takes out a small metal cylinder from a pouch, and kneeling beside Hess, unstoppers the container and takes out a pinch of powder. Placing it in his palm he blows on it and it sparkles as if lit by an inner flame. Propelled by an unseen breeze, the dust settles on the young man and disappears.
Insight (1d20+2=5) History (1d20+10=11) "What is the matter?" Kriv asks his elven friend.
Baffled at having been rebuffed earlier upon mentioning Troyas, Kriv maintains his silence, wary of the half-elf.
Kriv folds his arms slowly and exhales, whilst looking at his elven friend, as if to say Well I suppose we must go along with it... He looks at Ben and nods, "Kriv Flamebrow" he says simply.
Kriv squints at the half-elf as if trying to decide whether she is intentionally rude or blithely unknowing, before turning to Aelwyn and shaking his head with a sigh, I meant no offence, and yet she perceives it in any comment that is put to her. he thinks. "Well, her discomfort manifests itself in many ways," he mutters to his elven friend when out of Ceelie's earshot. "Strange that she and this Dravos can be friends." he adds without seemingly aware of the irony of their own relationship.
"Be that as it may," Kriv says like a patient school-master, "I merely report what the vox populi has muttered. I myself am indifferent to any squabbles here."
Kriv grunts in slight annoyance. "This Troyas you mentioned earlier," he says by way of reply, "There seems to be some tension between the various groups in the town regarding him. Some view him as an excitable 'upstart' (not my words), others as a visionary leader. Not an uncommon split of opinion where authority figures are concerned."
Hmmm... what was it those people were talking about earlier? Kriv ponders as he tries to remember something he overheard.
Kriv looks at first as though he might tip the table up at the half-elf's cheeky reply, but after half a second instead laughs like someone gargling rocks, "Ha! Indeed, although it would be dire indeed were I to be esconced in a snowfield! I prefer somewhat warmer climes." As the barmaid tries to touch him, he flinches slightly, and then feels somewhat chastened as she beats a retreat. 'Tis flattering, I suppose... he thinks ruefully.
Kriv boggles ever so slightly at the gauche young woman's blunt observation (as he sees it), before replying smoothly, "As you have noticed I possess an unusual coloration; I am what is termed an albino, if you wish to learn more, I can direct you to certain works which delve into the topic. Amongst my people, it is deemed an auspicious sign. I myself have found it to be no especial help or hindrance."
Kriv grunts at his story being interupted by the girl's knife antics. "No business, merely tale-spinning," he says by way of reply to her question, with a wave of his hand to indicate the ephemeral nature of their conversation.
Kriv leans back in his chair, and places his hand on his chin, "This is where rumour intermingles with fact... The goblins were led by a fierce warrior-priest, a Hobgoblin rumored to have inherited the blood of Dragons (however that may have come about!) *snort*. This Azarr Kul had turned to the worship of Tiamat." Kriv makes a gesture with his other hand at the mention of the name 'Tiamat', and continues, "It is not known how Azarr Kul became a devotee of the Five-in-One, though there is a legend among Dragonborn that an ancient temple to the dread goddess is located somewhere to the west of the Vale." He gestures that way and presents his palms in a gesture of openness, "So, you see," he concludes "Goblins who think themselves dragons." He chuckles in his gravelly way.
Kriv ponders and after a little while adds, "Their organization is perhaps no mere seeming. The Kulkor Zule they called themselves, the “People of the Dragon". A trifle bombastic, but you get the idea. Once this land belonged to my people; then it was Rhestilor, but like many of our lands it is no more." He looks grimly before continuing, warming to his theme and seeming less historian and more storyteller, "A band of strangers saved this town in the past, but none knows their final fate; if these current rumours are to be believed, new protectors must come to fight a old threat in a new guise." He nods to himself, and finishes, "Let us hope that I am merely chasing stories and phantoms. But the shadow of Azarr Kul may yet be cast again."
"Hrm, that does sound bad." Kriv murmurs, although the effect is akin to someone gently shaking gravel. The Red Hand? Let me think...
*growl* "Well, what have you heard?" Kriv asks his elven companion. He winces in annoyance at the bearded man playing cards, who seems to be causing something of a fuss.
Kriv turns to see a rather excitable human male remonstrating about something.
"Ah, there you are," Kriv grunts, "We haven't made serious enquiries as of yet; or at least I have not; I cannot speak for my companion." he adds indicating his elven friend. "The inhabitants of this town seem rather close-mouthed."
*grunt* "Wha-harumph! A likely story! Although you're quiet enough," he adds with a shake of his head, "Well, we'd better meet this fellow, now that we're both here." He strides into the inn re-mustering his calm and dignity. Now what was that fellow's name?
The unusual figure of a dragonborn waits outside the inn impatiently; even more unusual is his coloration. Rather than the normal browns and ochres of his kin, his scales are of an ivory hue, and his eyes are a bright blue. He wears well made robes in the style of his people that allow for both elegance and movement. His clawed foot scuffs the ground in slight annoyance. Where is she? Never trust an elf to be on time! "Oh yes, Kriv, I'll see you there!" - how many times have I heard that, Aelwyn? he thinks grumpily.
It is within my capabilities to breath forth a cone of elemental flame upon our foes. *burp* Excuse me... ah, I appear to have singed your hat. So sorry.
*Growl* I would also take issue with rampant use of flame in a combustible environment! Smoking kills!
*Harrumph* "Well, speak for yourself. I happen to like an evening at the theatre."
I'm not sure we need to worry cleric-wise. Kriv can do quite a bit of healing and temp hitpointing. He's done, bar seeing what rituals Rags takes and taking a different one. I already have Make Whole (which can't be changed) and one of my choice.
If you wish to play the old fashioned 'blaster wizard' you are much better off playing a warlock, old sir. *goes back to examining some odd bits of bark*
Fairy Dust?! *Snort* A fallacious summation of my arts! And fewer of the scale-face remarks, my hirsute colleague. |