Krystal Popescu's page

Quick question; I'm Kelish (you can tell by my fancy headgear, and brooding bad-boy look). Do I speak my native tongue or is that non-CORE? I don't remember seeing anything for it in the three sources sited (although Tien characters can speak their tongue instead of Common).

All about being Hard-CORE,
Z.

I can't believe I lost to that guy! (staring at Coiger, then Aba'al pushes past the boom mic and walks off set in a huff).

"You there!" through bits of goat and gravy. "Where is your puppet master?" Tact: 1d20 - 20 ⇒ (8) - 20 = -12

Aba'al orders up a goat with extra gravy and salt and makes sure to inform his server he cannot abide pork, and hints darkly (and likely poorly Bluff (innuendo): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4) that there may be trouble if he finds any in his meal. (If you know what I mean.) He throws a pinch salt over his left shoulder with his right hand (to sting the eyes of the prying servitors of you-know-who) when it arrives. He inspects it for a moment and then digs in with his fingers (again using his right hand), pushing the gravy about with hunks of meat. Assuming it's good he eats with great gusto.

....

Mimes. Why did it have to be mimes?

Morning-ish, I should say.
Anyhow quick question to GM Fateweaver. Hit Points = Constitution score + Con modifier (like you would normally add) + favored class hp mod. + feats/traits at first level?
Inquiring Mimes Wanna Know (how big their invisible box is),
GGG
PS No offense to Thak (I'm sure you are one of the "good" mimes, or at least lawful neutral ones.)

You might run into the tall, Saracen too, as he has a horse out in the stable. He's seen some strange stuff, is from a cosmopolitan realm and is a fish out of water here himself so he's somewhere between neutral to friendly (and more than a bit curious about the little automaton). Alas, I must retire for the night right now, but feel free to improvise and I'll check back in the morning.

Aba'al looks in his change pouch.
"So it is judged." He says ironically.
He looks about the room's walls for work postings. He'll need money to get back to Garund. He has enough to see him through the next few days, but after that--well, he'd have to find something.

Okay, They are both (Coiger and Aba'al) updated.
May the fates shine upon us all.

or...

A tall, swarthy stranger bursts through the door cursing the rain and spraying it widely as he shakes it off his himself, and the sheathed crescent blade tied to his back.
"By the gods! Has your country no sun?!" He complains loudly to the woman who raced to meet him at the door. She offers him a ridiculously small towel given how damp he is.
Looking darkly at the towel and then at woman behind it, and the gathered crowd of patrons beyond her he sighs. Gently he unwraps his cloth headdress and wrings the rain from it into a sleeping patron's mug.
"Wine?" the hostess offers timidly.
"I never drink, wine." He says now wringing his long black hair. "I'll have hot tea instead."
When the woman says nothing he looks at her meaningfully and asks:
"You do have tea, correct?"
"No sir, we don't get much call for it here."
"Never mind." He says, apparently defeated.
He picks up the mug filled with rain water and downs it in one long gulp.
"Pray tell ma'am do you have accommodations in this-" He struggles to get the word out "-village?"
"Yes sir! The finest."
"Very well, lead me to them. I'll also need housing for my steed, until after my friend's funeral tomorrow."
The words carry over the tavern crowd and halt the flow of drink and conversation almost immediately. Somewhere in the back an empty cup tumbles to the floor.

Aba'al Zadeir