"I hate to say this, but I believe we should wait for Alden." Lars suggested. "The guards are on alert, so we shouldn't rush inside. And these guards aren't fools. The chance of being discovered is high, and I would prefer another blade."
Search Posts
"I will." Lars said, his voice serious. "I will help in any way that I can."
"We need the cover of night." Lars muttered to the others. Where the knights gleamed in their steel armor, and the scouts had the air of professionals about them, Lars was quite the opposite. He was covered in fur and leather, and had the air of a man who wore what he owned, and did so for little reason besides. "If we have to fight we will. But it is clear that doing so will bring far more down upon us than we can handle. That is, unless we choose our fights carefully and end them quickly. That said, if we cannot do so, I could provide a distraction to draw the guards away. Though I would prefer not to, as it will just as likely end with the cultists having a werewolf's head as a trophy. And I am most attached to mine."
”We must push on.” Lars whispered. ”Come. If this is but one village then we won’t be able to always avoid civilians. We must take the risk.”
Not wishing to kill the guard in front of his child, Lars froze in place. He prayed that the man would chose to live…
I'll be traveling from 7/14 to 8/16. I'll have my iPhone with me, so I won't be offline. However, doing things like moving on maps will be difficult.
”I will do what I can in that regard.” Lars said. As usual he was understated, preferring to let his actions speak.
Thanks for the heads up. Hope things quiet down for you. On my end, I'll be traveling from 7/14 to 8/14...ish. I won't have any computer, but I will have my cell phone. So I'll post as much as able.
Best fortune to you in the move.
"The best time to leave to not be seen." Lars agreed. "I can only see more clearly in the dark, and catch a scent, when transformed." He added. "I can't stay like that forever though. So I will only do so when it is needed."
Lars sighed. "It seems that going on the offensive really is our only course of action."
”Well that will take them out of the fight.” Lars said, dryly. Moving next to Jaxom he focused on the task at hand…namely getting back to friendly lines.
I’m going to tell the Red Cross! Wait…the closest thing here is Sarenrae. Whom we are…ah nevermind.
Lars nodded. "Back to the town then, if they are scared off by the ballista. But otherwise, we need to keep defensive positions so they do not hit our flanks and run the militia down as they panic." With bow now in hand, he looked pensively in the direction of the enemy relief force.
With a shudder, Lars' form contracted, as the 'touch of Erastril' faded. What was left was a large, rugged, and very weary man. Taking a deep breath, he quietly went about tending to the wounded to the best of his ability. In this, he was more than willing to help any in need, including any surrendered foes.
With the enemy front line broken, Lars took off running towards Jaxon, seeking to assist his comrade. While the enemy were retreating, it was an ordered one, and he was at risk of being filled with crossbow bolts unless the foe was given a reason to retreat faster.
The game is just that, a game. And it should be fun for everyone, GM included. I hope all is well for you.
I appreciate it. Sadly as a melee single target striker, going off alone into a battlefield seemed like a foolish plan. Especially without cover to hide in.
Are we? My apologies! Didn’t realize I was up
We could do this… Send hunters and the like to harass them. Shoot and retreat, lead them to the town. They get the town. Have townsfolk with spears in a formation at what looks like a choke point. Have one of our guys as a “champion” Alden leading them. Enemies march in. We have Kevan and Milton hidden in a building. Hit their main formation with web, bombs and fireball. Jaxom and Lars come in from the rear or flank. Or go for their archers. Basically turn their formation into a death trap that is isolated from the others, and we then go after their leaders.
Lars saw that the parlay had gone poorly. He truly hoped that this could be solved in a trial by combat, as the last thing he wanted was for more of the community to fall. But these fanatics were forcing their hand. With only a small amount of time to prepare, he decided to round up every hunter and trapper that he could find. In Erastril's name, their skills would be needed to defend their community. These zealots of the Goddess of flame were treating this like a war between nations, with heavy infantry and battle lines. To defeat them, they would need to force the fight to be on their terms.
Unable to hear what was going on, Lars shifted uneasily. The representatives chosen for them seemed confident. That was good, he thought. Or it meant that they were foolish and it would get them all killed. Certainly one of the two.
”Erastril watch over us.” Lars said, a hand on the icon of his deity. Twenty armed men, with three commanders? It was a force that they would struggle to defeat. That is, if they could. This was not a fight that he relishes.
Hope it all works out. This storm has not been fun at all...but having heating and water issues certainly makes it much worse.
”And I wish that I had a palace made out of gold.” Lars said, dryly. ”And yet we have neither.” After a moment he said ”We can’t be everywhere at once. But we’d best parlay with them, see if they will part peacefully. And if they don’t, we can’t hope that they do disturb the lands of our draconic ally.”
"Plate and clerics." Lars grumbled, as he handed out the potions he had prepared.
"Can anyone fill us in about this cult? These are obviously no mere bandits or crazed flagellants. That they can keep such gear serviceable is evident of an organized force."
Lars nodded, solemnly. The trials and tribulations of the mining had been taxing, and part of him welcomed the change. However, a vision from Deadeye? That was not to be taken lightly. Hard earned experience told him that their community would once more need to be defended, and that was a call he could not turn from.
Had a good one. Really needed the time off work. Just sad it had to end.
”That wasn’t ideal.” Lars said, understating the situation. ”But not everything is. The ants seem to becoming and as such we don’t have time to stop if we want this ore. I think we should put our backs into this, and get what we can, while we can.”
Lars listened as the others discussed mineral rights and land ownership. These all made sense to him. That, and it was good to see Jaxom light up. It was clear that he had the heart of a craftsman. Lars respected that. ”So, I take it then that we will hold off on any more merging while we work the mines.” Lars said, half question and half statement. His voice deadpan, he added ”And I am sure whistling while they work will make the work go faster.”
Sorry. I’ve gotten life more or less under control. Meant to do a post but was burnt out and it kind of fell by the wayside. Am still struggling with something at work, but will get a post up soon.
Sorry for quietness. Work exploded. And now I’m sick as a dog. Which has apparently spread to one of my daughters. Posting has fallen because. I’ll try and get something up soon
”Milk tea?” Lars asked, rhetorically. ”I’ve never heard of that before. But I suppose it would still be tea.” He answered with some uncertainty. ”In the field I brew what I find, and infuse it with the essence of the land. A blessing from Erastril, I believe. But when we are back in town I will see what I can do in making this drink of yours.” He said, his face and tone deathly serious. ”I will drink it with you. And then we can decide whether it is still tea or not.”
Lars took a skewer without hesitation. He had survived on such food, so the taste was not foreign to him. At least now, though, he ate in victory rather than to stave off the inevitable. After taking a bite, he pulled open his own bag. "I will brew tea." He said, simply. "Come morning I shall brew more. Unlike what I make now, those will not be for immediate drinking. I will be able to brew four...potions...for lack of a better word. Drinking them will cause the body to heal far faster than it normally would. The effect spoils after a day, so when I give them out I ask that they be used when needed."
Lars attended the meeting with a newfound appreciation for the group that had rescued his village. It wasn't even grudging, but he legitimately saw them as being heroic. They had done what was required of them for their people, when many others would have fled or have failed. That had earned his respect. "I will come." He said in response to Alden. As a man of few words, he saw no reason to elaborate. His intentions were clear.
6000 to work with (1) Belt of Strength (2000)
Total: 5500. Remaining 500 left over for the group. Does that work?
I’d gladly take some of the normal magic items. Like +1 amulet, armor or the like.
Even in the best of times, Lars did not come across as especially approachable, and as such Timalt's hesitation was understandable. He looked up from his work, the grinding of herbs together to make a poultice, and put it down so he could give the man his full attention. He leaned forward as Timalt began talking, his eyes boring into those of the other. "It is good that you prefer labor." Lars said, seriously. "I've heard some of what you lot went through. Your militia was necessary. And I hope that men like you. Like us. Continue to defend our community when needed." He went back to grinding the herbs. "Big shot heroes don't exist. They are just something bards sing about to con us out of our coins. But yes, I will do whatever is needed to make this land prosper." His gaze turning back to his work, he continued "Tell me about your home. The people. What you've been through, and who is playing heroes."
While Alden dined with the dragon, Lars...he filled his time. There was so much to do, and yet he had far too much time on his hands to think. On one hand, he was in a village that was safe and prosperous. The survivors were integrating into it. There was work to be done, in the making of medicine and potions, two things that he was well qualified to do. But at the same time, he had time to think. And for the first time, he actually had time to mourn. For all of the lives that had been lost. For those that he had failed to save. This was not the explosive anger of before, but rather a weary sadness that came from reflection in an environment that was safe. While it was well and good to settle in, he was ready to adventure forth with the others. He knew that grief did not have a cure, but the symptoms could be treated. And the best way was to keep busy.
We are back!
Lars leaned forward, a smile on his face. It was a cold, bitter one. ”You’re a wise man.” He said, staring Alden in the eyes. ”The world that was, it was not a good place. And I don’t expect this broken one to be any better. But for what it’s worth. Thank you.” Still with the intense stare he added ”Dragon or not, you lot bled with us. And one of yours nearly died. Regardless of why, that is not something I will forget.”
I agree on arms and armor being a priority. Lars is fine as he is right now. Perhaps focus on getting Alden his long sword and pass the dagger to Kevan?
Lars shook his head. "We were a farming community. If there was any trove of art or knowledge, it would be news to me." He looked over at Milton, curious to see if the mage knew of something he didn't.
Lars sat, accepting the offer from Alden. For the first time in Erastil knew how long, he had performed basic hygiene. His clothes had been cleaned, his hair washed, and he had an actual night sleep. And yet somehow he still managed to look wild. "A gift?" He looked at Milton with a bemused smile. "The dragon sounds like nothing more than a Baron. Or any other noble. It keeps us safe, and in return it gets whatever is of value in its lands. And if we don't give it what it wants, then it stops keeping us safe...from it." Reaching for his drink he took a sip. "But it's worth it if also keeps us safe from ants and the like. If you lot need to head out to collect tribute, then I'll do what I can to help. The only thing from our village of value was the crops we grew." While it was true that he wanted to leave to assist, as a way of repaying the strangers for saving them, there was another reason as well. He was a self-trained druid, for that, along with his alchemy, was what kept his lycanthropy controlled. The wilds called to him.
Didn’t realize we rolled.
Nevermind. As for spells…I’m not the best with arcane casters. So no requests or suggestions from me.
NOTE TO OTHER PLAYERS
Lvl 5
HP: +5 (class) + 2 (Con) = +7 (43 total)
Feats:
Spells Known:
Potions Made Daily:
Class Abilities Druidic Herbalism Nature Bond Variant
Studied Target
With a weariness that Lars felt deep in his bones he nodded. ”We will live.” He said, more to himself than anyone else. He looked at the dragon, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He didn’t know the right words to say, for he was far from being as silver tongued as Alden. And he had no idea as towards what might make something “official” in their eyes. Not everyone in the village had been literate, and a man’s word meant more besides. ”On behalf of those who are left, we accept the terms.”
To explain my post…Lars has seen most of his family and friends die horrible deaths, devoured by ants. That is a terrifying thing to live through. He was resigned to fighting to the death, with no hope of survival. In Erastril’s name, protecting his community and the land that mattered so much to them. Even his armor was a mix of leather, fur and ant chitin. Literally anything that could be pulled together with limited resources. Then out of nowhere outsiders come. Even with their help, another member of the dwindling community died in front of Lars. And with them a came dragon. Then… (1) The dragon acted like a dragon. Arrogant, but not cruel. Talking of taking the land Lars and his community lived on for longer than any could remember. And hand waving (claw waving) allowing them to flee when the lands were taken.
But Lars…was someone who adrenaline just went out, who was processing everything from losing another friend, to having his lands taken by a dragon. And he just found it all to be too much. In his mind, there was nothing to negotiate with. So he expressed both relief and despair, as he tried to process everything. At least that was what I was going for. A realistic response to constant trauma.
Lars looked over at Alden, his face as hard as stone, though there was fire in his eyes. It was much easier to talk to a fellow human than to a dragon. He made a point of ignoring Kevan, though. The jibe of asking if he wanted to be a beggar would normally have been enough to raise his fists, but he knew that he was in no position to do so. Far too many people would die if he let his pride get the best of him. In a happier time he’d have entertained the halfling’s ramblings. The physician in him would have been interested, at least, in the chemical knowledge. But at the moment he had another body to bury, lest the ants eat it. Another life to mourn. And he was facing the simultaneous reality of salvation, coupled with losing his ancestral land. It was all too much. He could see what the paladin was doing. He was trying to give dignity. To ensure that the people had a voice and could negotiate as equals. But…he was broken. Far too much blood had been spilled over family fields, with the bodies of farmers turned into fertilizer for crops that would never be harvested. It felt like condescension dressed as charity. ”We are dying.” He growled, trying to keep his anger in check. ”Why play these games?” He asked, his voice cracking from the pain of the situation. ”Everyone in charge is dead, and until you lot got here we were just fighting to the end. Protecting...” Forcing his fists to unclench he continued, and he made the sign of Erastril to steady himself before continuing. His voice defeated ”The land is yours. Or hers. That the last of us that remain may live is better than what we faced minutes ago. Just…don’t insult us by pretending that this is a negotiation.” It was odd. Up until just then he had been resigned to dying. Now he, and what was left of the community, would live. And he knew that he should be happy. But the idea of their land, which they had lived on and cultivated for longer than any could remember…it was being conquered by another. By an inhuman monster that wore the skin of a human, but which showed no actual care for the people that lived on the land it was annexing. And the idea of losing that was like a punch to the gut. All he could hope for, though, was that he didn’t insult their new draconic overlord. He was a brave man, but he was not suicidal. |