They are delicious.
Search Posts
*Braaaaaainss*
I usually start with a concept, mainly in terms of weaponry and abilities, and build the character around that. So I knew I wanted Laralai to be a grappler and a caster, and White Witch fit that bill nicely even without the Hexes (which sucks...one day I'll have hexes) and monk was an obvious compliment, although I kept looking at Brawler too. In this case it was actually reasonably simple. It simply didn't work, so I'm busy cutting pieces off to drop the potency a bit and looking into new ideas if I can't cut enough and keep the character I want.
Yeah, sorry. I screwed the pooch fairly royally, and it's gonna take longer than I'd like to fix it.
I know. In this case it was more to help Vital Strike keep up with full attack, and occasionally pouring spell points into doomsday spear assaults. If it's a no go I'll drop that plan.
Yeah, my eyes kinda lit up when I read the Improved Energy Blade feat. Combined with Vital Strike should make for fun times. Fun times where things implode.
No - although that is an awesome idea. But I assume she's too plot relevant. The new PC is...around. I'm finishing up skills and Spheres - oh dear lord so many Spheres - and then I'll send it for approval. Sorry it's taken this long. I've been distracted by trying to organize my own game and things breaking at work.
It's up to you, I suppose. I tend to go for the option that's least friendly to myself when in doubt.
Yeah, especially given that I probably missed there touch AC with a 12... But what's posted is posted. Not much I can do now.
Sorry, I thought that you mentioning destructive blast and this section from the Death Speech meant I should do both, since I wasn't laying a curse or geas.
First, they may take one standard action in order to complete a task interrupted by their demise or make an attack, after which they slip the mortal coil and go to meet their ultimate fate. Second, they may make a death speech, a long and usually poetic summation of their lives. If the dead man is a PC, the GM should award a bonus to that player’s next character based on the quality of the speech, usually an XP award or a story-appropriate magic item. Well, back to being human I guess. Damn.
Yeah, Rednal's a real meanie for killing me. Clearly we need bigger guns. Like, literal guns. Big ones. But don't worry - Laralai 2 - Witch Harder will be here soon! Or rather, a completely non-witch character will replace her. But don't worry...Bertok's escape means Laralai isn't quite gone yet. Now I just have to build a completely new level 2 Gestalt character as fast as I can! Eheh...
Staring down blankly at the gaping wound in her chest, Laralai simply murmured, "Oh." She seemed more confused than hurt as blood errupted from her lips, dying them a dark crimson. Looking down, Laralai pondered where the droplets of red were coming from. She felt...strange. Odd. Leaning on her hanbo, she considered what was happening. What was happening? It was a struggle to remember. She had been doing...something. With children? And...what was she doing now? You are dying, child. The voice of Bertok whispered in her ear, regret suffusing the spirit's voice. Laralai's head snapped up. Dying? her mind whispered in horror. She looked again at the wound in her chest. I can't be dying. My magic. I can save myself. I can heal myself! All things pass, child. The voice whispered, more distant than before as she sagged to her knees. Her chest felt tight. Oh so tight. Why couldn't she catch her breath? Fate cannot be denied. Your thread has been cut. The Norn's have judged the length of your thread. Now is your moment. No...the young woman thought to herself, feeling drowsy. "No," she said again. "NO!" She croaked it out as she rose, stiffly, back to her feet. "I shall die if I must. If this is my fate, so be it. But I shall not fail! With my life's blood I shall NOT!" Turning to Sibbe, the young witch met the gaze of the old crone. "Hear me, Sibbe the Unkempt! I am Laralai Grahn, daughter of House Grahn, and I will not allow your ways to continue. Hear me! I slew the bear of winter and took the mantle of winter unto myself. Hear me! I crawled from my death bed, took back the will to walk and carved for myself a new leg. Hear me! I was chosen by the hand of Jarl Olaf Henrikson to help his maiden children, and by my vow they shall be saved. If not by my hand then by another's." Blood flowed freely from the gaping wound and her throat as Laralai paused. The ground around her had turned crimson. How much have I lost? Too much. Far too much Dropping to her knees, she reached out to her own blood, drawing something in on the ground. Laralai reached the last of her energy, Laralai hurled a final spell at the second henchman. The raw blast would hopefully kill the man, and the others would be free to deal with Sibbe. "Save them," the young woman whispered, her final strength spent. With that she collapsed to the ground, gone.
Almost unnoticed, a small Thrush flew from the dead woman's cloak and away, behind the altar.
Relaizing she couldn't reach the witch, Laralai attempted to defeat the huge man before her. Moving through towards the man, her hair whipped out in the wind...and then lashed out.
I vote for CHARGE! since my fogbank didn't work.
Laralai paused at the shouts. "Do we have anything to loose by simply charging in now?"
Laralai considered the wind and then nodded. "I can make a small fog bank, yes. It will hide us, but a strong wind will blow it away." Summoning up rolling banks of fog, Laralai started to head up.
GM - what are the wind conditions like?
Laralai nodded and reached over to heal Eindred.
After a moment, Laralai also cast a small spell on herself, to improve her ability to defend herself.
Laralai glanced at the others once more. "I am better at climbing than I am at sneaking."
Laralai followed, preparing her power if needed to help.
Starring in horror at the writing bones that seemed to turn the Barrows white, Laralai turned to the others. "Do we ride and hope, or attempt to bring down the king and hope that banishes them?" Either plan was dangerous, and neither guaranteed they wouldn't have to deal with the undead. Laralai would prefer to ride, fearing it would take too much strength to defeat the undead lord, but...
Laralai followed, bowing slightly to the skeletons as she passed. They'd acted with honour and deserved such respect.
I'm here all the time...forever...
In fairness, I used to live near Lindisfarne. They probably enjoyed the mead as well.
It's cool, I was gonna volunteer to fight it (Unarmed Strikes and all) but it all worked out well enough. I never got around to putting down the last of my level 1 feats, the ones to replace Unarmed Strike and Weapon Finesse (or rather, I did, and it didn't save...), but to be clear those were Weapon Focus (Hair) and Feral Combat Training. Upgrades; +1 Magical Natural Attacks (Hair)
Bertok:
Looking back at Hakon, Laralai shrugs slightly. She'd never heard of an undead acting in this manner, but there was no real reason it couldn't happen. "Spirit, we seek to aid three children, wrongfully taken from from there parents by treachery, against all honour. We seek there return, if you shall allow it?"
Not trusting the horses in this strange place, Laralai led them over to the nearest solid branch and tied them up. "I don't, I'm afraid. This is not my magic. I suspect a dark ritual, however."
Laralai looked around for somewhere remotely sheltered from the weather, but at a pinch any kind of post or piece of brush that would resist them tugging would do. Either this would be over in a few hours, and the horses should be able to manage that. In a pinch, she and the others could drive her hanbo into the ground and tie them to that. She hated to use her own weapon in such a way, but she didn't need it, and would happily help carve a new one if it was ruined. "It should be close enough, yes, especially we're reasonably rested by the ride." That they hadn't caught up was a vague surprise...
Laralai held back, waiting in case something changed or someone needed healing.
Without any ranged abilities, Laralai reached out and touched Hakon, adding a temporary Hit Point with her Vitalize ability.
Taking the middle slot with Bertoc once again nestled in her hood, Laralai studied the area around them as much as possible, both for signs of weakness in the bridge and enemies.
With a whisper Laralai murmured to Bertok, and the tiny familiar shot off along the bridge to see it's condition. With his speed it should only take a moment to see if the bridge was damaged.
After quickly gathering the skeletons items, Laralai follows along.
Nodding, and blushing, at the compliment to her talent, Laralai shrugged her shoulders. "It's possible they simply...are. This is a place of poor tidings and old, angry ghosts. Regardless, they are gone now. Once we gather there possessions we should be on our way."
Nodding, Laralai reaches out and lightly lays a hand a on his shoulder, concentrating.
Glancing down at the injured Hakon, Laralai paused for a moment. "Do you accept healing?" She wouldn't heal him if he didn't wish it, no matter how dire things might be.
Laralai clicked her heels into the mount, guiding it towards Hakon and the monsters he fought.
"Could be cursed magic from the old tombs," the witch replied as she aimed another kick. The tombs of the Andøvan were known for ghosts and haunts, and the skeletons were little more than ghosts that still clung to there own bones. Aiming a blow at whichever appears the weaker, Laralai tried to help.
With one down, Laralai evaded the attacks of the second and unleashed another pair of brutal strikes at it's skull.
Laralai continued kicking from the saddle, aiming at the creature that was already cracked from her first attack.
Laralai aimed a couple of stiff kicks at the opposing skeletons, trusting her blunt and brutal approach to crack some skulls.
"I am not sure...we cannot help them if we fail that path..." Laralai considered. Dying would not save the girls, and it would not be an honourable death if that was true. But failing to reach them in time would be worse... "Alright," she murmured, "Let's try it."
"The question becomes," Laralai mused outloud, "Is do we take the path through the Barrowlands and hope we can ride or fight past any danger, or do we pass through the woods and skirt the Barrows and the Trollfist Hills?" Laralai didn't even consider bothering with the safest route. It wasn't worth mentioning.
As she mounted her recently found mount, Laralai consulted with Bertok on what he knew of the situation.
"Sibbe the Unkempt is known to walk these places," Laralai supplied. "Hallbjorn warned me earlier that she may have fallen in league with Styr the Ugly. This smells like the kind of mischief a thief and a witch might do, working together." Laralai began to look around for any signs of the horses.
"The Witch." Laralai growled the words. "That must have been a spell of sleep. It must have been the Witch." Her long hair flowed around her briefly - against the wind. Her fists clenched. To fail so dismally...my mother will never meet my gaze again... "Calm yourself," Bertok's voice whispered, "Think. You have a mind, so use it. What did they take?" "They took the girls and the horses. All the horses." Laralai muttered as she started to move. Six horses...that will leave a trail. Three of them weighed down with unconscious girls, strange handlers? That will not make it simple either. She began looking around for there tracks.
Laralai glanced at the sky. "I don't think rushing back will go any good. If that was some kind of propecy, I assume it was in order. The storm will be the first part, but whether that is a literal storm or something more arcane...I cannot say." Thinking back on the warning of the weather they'd heard earlier, she added, "Still, leaving soon cannot do any harm, either."
And I've been sick again. Yay me.
Laralai looked at the animal again, and shrugged slightly. "If your father agrees to it, and if it proves trustworthy..."
Laralai looked back at her familiar, but the small bird was unusually quiet.
Giving the cart a slightly dirty look after the exertion it had required, Laralai nodded. "We do what all should do when someone needs help, and that is all. But thank you for the kind words." She re-mounted her horse again with a slight grown. "We might want to take it to a trot or canter," she mentioned to the others. "I do not want to get caught if poor weather comes, and we've taken more time than I'd like."
|