Pointing to the door, Leith remarks, "Does that price include the nail in the door?"
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Just a heads up. I am leaving for California this morning and will not be back until early Tuesday morning. I won't have any access until that time, so I will not be posting until late Tuesday. Sorry for the short notice, but I completely forgot about it. Please feel free to run my character while I am gone and I will catch up when I return.
"Ah, but was there singing when the wolves attacked or was it that the wolves had been subjected to singing before raiding the town?"
"Couldn't we just listen for singing ourselves?"
As expressed elsewhere, it's just good to have you back. The bull yet awaits your ministrations and Leith is still sharpening his blade (which by now has been stropped to a molecule's thickness).
Kick ass at Hogmanay!
Leith moves over to the enclosure and climbs atop the stone wall. He sits crosslegged upon the wall. He pulls out a whetstone from his pouch and draws his sword. Staying aware of the bull, he begins to sharpen his blade.
Leith warily eyes the lad while trying to decipher the scene at the farm before him.
Leith listens to the old man's answer, his face slowly adopting a skeptical cast. "So, Podaga taught you that the key to keeping the farkasok from your door is to listen to it's howl? Let me guess: once you can hear the howl at your doorstep, you use the key to lock the door?"
"What did Podaga teach you that keeps the farkasok from the kapualj?"
BD:
Leith glances over at the new grave before responding to the old priest. "Good morning and well met, grandfather. May your blessings be returned tenfold upon you."
I thought Seleste was going to attempt to deal with the bull before we left the village this morning?
Seeing Celeste walk over to the carcass of the wolf, Leith stops and watches her pick up and carry it off to the woods. She should be more careful wandering into woods with such demented animals nearby. He hefts his pack and follows her as she performs some rites over the corpse.
Leith gathers up his meager belongings and follows the half-elven woman out of the barn.
Welcome back! It happens to us all.
Leith cracks open a single eyelid at the raucous approach of the woman and her whelps. At the smell of food, he drags himself to full consciousness, taking one of the bowls and pouring the krem atop the vasha. He varkas down the breakfast before surreptitiously eyeing the others to see if they eat theirs.
Exhausted, Leith allows the half-elf to lead him to the barn. He finds a patch he hopes isn't too old and slides down onto the makeshift bed falling instantly asleep.
"Maybe Podoga should be more selective in which hunters he backs."
"Not until I've slept. I had to walk all the way here just to come face to face with a pack of deranged wolves. Is there anywhere defensible that we can bed down?"
"The bull...?"
"They seemed scared. Something could be frightening them."
Leith stands watching the wolf pack melt back into the darkness. Once they are gone, he cleans his blade and sheathes it.
Leith slashes at the wolf he had previously wounded as it begins to move.
Leith takes the opportunity to charge the pack drawing his dueling sword as he moves, heading for the closest wolf.
As Leith watches the wolves, he realizes that they are acting out of character and begins to look for anything that may be prodding them to this dangerous behaviour.
A lonely track through a dark, forbidding forest. Damn! Damn! Damn! I cannot believe they left without me! Gods, but had I even stopped to apologize on my way out the door, they would have been on me. He actually sent Pavel and Rawan after me. He will never understand... I had to spend hours shaking them before I could circle back to the rendezvous. And then they are gone when I arrive. Gone! Probably at the insistence of the sniveling halfling bookkeeper. Now I am walking for hours more trying to catch up and I am so tired that I dare not stop even to rest. That woodsman assured me that the only settlement in the area was down this track... What does he kn- The young man checks his mental tirade at the sounds of screams in the night. He draws his sword as he tries to pinpoint the direction of the voices. Realizing it comes from farther down the track, he moves quickly, his fatigue forgotten, as he reaches a break in the trees which opens into a small village. The crowds of people running for shelter in the dilapidated buildings causes him to follow their path back to the scene of a pack of wolves stalking through the center of the buildings. It being too dark to know what they hunt, he advances on them from behind and to their left.
No worries. It was more that I had left the room several posts ahead of you. Just to further dispel confusion, my character has only written "Leith" and "of Brevoy". No one has even spoken to him... yet. :D
Just a reminder to everyone not to use player knowledge when making in character statements. Also please do not edit other player's actions or state what another character is doing.
Quickly exiting the audience room, Leigh brushes past the other group without so much as a glance before they have time to react to the presence of the women coming out behind him.
Leith is ready to go.
Leith began to sketch a formal bow to the swordlord, but caught himself halfway through, hastily turning away and heading for the door.
Moving with a sudden alacrity, the silent member of the company moves to the swordlord's desk. Extending his left hand from the cloak, he takes up the quill, dipping the nib into the inkpot and hastily scrawling his name on the parchment.
Leith quirks an eyebrow, albeit from under the cover of his floppy brimmed hat, at Seleste's mention of plucking her rose.
The final charter member remains silent throughout the exchange still keeping his head down, hat brim covering his features with the cloak closed at his front. Finally! Let us begone from Restov and into the adventure of the wilds.
Name: Leith
DM: Floppy hat low over the face, cloak hanging closed about his person, Leith moves forward in the line quietly. He keeps himself to himself and does not speak until the halfling speaks to him. He gives concise answers yet remains unfailingly polite.
Drayen here. This is the character I plan on playing. Please let me know if there are any changes that need to be made. I am excited for this campaign. The basic premise is a nobleman on the run. He is working towards becoming an Aldori Swordlord.
Leithbridge's Thoughts:
To answer a little out of order, Leithbridge is excited by the rumors that he is hearing about expeditions being organized to reclaim the Stolen Lands. The opportunity to venture forth as his Gravenhurst ancestors did when they left Taldor to follow Baron Sirian First to the wilds that would one day become Rostland, is just what he seeks. Making his fortune, and more importantly his fame, will give him the ability to return home one day and prove that he was meant for more than a priest's frock and tonsure. Riding in as a lord in his own right to valiantly save his sister from whatever odious match their father has arranged is the dream that plays in the back of his head day and night. The most recent news that suggests his dear friend Gregan's family is organizing the next expedition is further assurance that he is destined for greatness. What friend could deny such a simple request on his wedding day, for his oldest, and best, friend?
Leithbridge was a child when the royal family disappeared. He has no direct memories to recall the time of Rogarvian rule. He only knows the rule of House Surtova. As a young man sheltered by wealth, power and the names of two houses, he has not seen the repercussions of the new king's choices. His current perceptions are based solely upon the views espoused by his parents. What follows are those opinions to answer your first and last questions. While they are a minor noble house, Leithbridge was born to the Gravenhurst's, a clan of staunch Rostlander's who boast a lineage going back to the original followers of Baron Sirian First. What they know is that the Surtova's have, in their well known skulking and manipulative way, usurped the throne. Admittedly, House Rogarvia had disappeared in it's entirety, yet that lends no credence to the cries of stewardship and familial ties from the Surtovan jackals. This call by the crown to raise expeditions to "explore and reclaim the Stolen Lands" is nothing so much as a means for Surtova to further deplete Rostland of it's young men and women, thus making it easier to keep the southern families under the thumb of the usurpers. Leithbridge's mother's family are the Medvyed's. If anything, they are an even older house, possibly so ancient as to have come from, or even predate, Iobaria. They cling to the old ways, to the point of perceiving the Green Faith to be a newfangled religion. Of the god's, they only nod their heads to Desna, and that so long as she continues to hold fast the tenets left to her by their patron, Curchanus. Theirs is the way of the forest and the first peoples, those who came before from the first world. While they had no special love for the Rogarvia and never knew trouble from the Surtova, the general consensus is that upstart Choral solved more than a few problems by pushing Issia and Rostland together. Most importantly, it removed House Medvyed and it's forests from the plight of being a borderland, leaving them to simply be the reclusive eastern neighbors who keeps to themselves. To their way of thinking, the current political situation is best served by all parties quickly agreeing to one solution, however; they resign themselves to strife as they do not believe the other houses will idly stand by while one or another makes their own bid for power. Regardless of what the future brins, House Medvyed will always follow it's motto: "Endurance Overcomes All" Upon hearing that House Medvyed has expressed assurances that they will attend the wedding of their northern neighbor, House Orlovsky, Leithbridge experienced mixed feelings. His mother's family would agree that being forced into the priesthood was wrong, but they would not favor his going off to adventure. Their idea of a solid strategy is to hole up in their forests where no one can be bothered to find them.
Here is drayen's submission. An Aldori Swordlord (in training) fighter archtype from the Inner Sea Primer. Background and stats included. I am CDT, work overnight and do most of my posting throughout the night. Reason for attending the wedding: Leithbridge is a childhood friend of Gregan Orlovsky and a former student of Peitros Aldori. Gregan and Leithbridge first met in the same salon where Peitros was master. They immediately despised one another and went about finding excuses to cause trouble for each other whenever possible. Their animosity finally came to head in class when they faced each other in practice. Beating each other senseless, neither would admit defeat or yield the floor. It seemed their feud would never end. One day Leithbridge saw a group of older students from a rival salon harassing Gregan. He rushed in sword swinging. While the two boys acquitted themselves well against greater numbers of older boys, they were soundly thrashed. Crawling to their feet, the boys looked to one another. At the sight of the bloody messes that had become their faces, they smiled then began laughing. Arm in arm they limped home and were forever after fast friends. Despite the recent upset in Leithbridge's family condition, Gregan broke with protocol and made sure to invite his old friend to show him once again it was the two of them against the world.
This is drayen's character submission
Here is my character for your review. The history, and writing sample, are in the profile. Rolls:
Drayen here with my character submission. Background: Leithbridge Gravenhurst was born the third son of four children to a Brevan noble family. His father's role for all of his sons was clearly spelled out. Leithbridge's oldest brother, Lysander, would inherit all titles and estates. His second brother, Ruthier, was sent to study the arcane arts. Leithbridge himself was expected to become a priest, whereas his little sister, Telmaine, was to be of use to the family in catching the eye of another prominent noble family scion and garner yet more wealth and prestige. Still, a noble's son should be educated and Leithbridge was schooled in his letters and sums as well as taught the skill of arms in the traditional Aldori way. Of course, living in the city of Restov ensured the best of tutors. Thus, it was Leithbridge's desire to join the vaunted ranks of the Aldori Swordmasters that brought him to this point. His mother, a noble daughter of House Medvyed, taught her children many of her family's customs and traditions. Her lessons included graceful interaction with the courts of the fae, a respect for nature and the skills to thrive in the wilderness, her family's upholding of the ancient ways of Curchanus, and how to find their way through the deepest wilds. Of her four children, Leithbridge and Telmaine took their mother's teachings to heart, venerating the wild places, the fae and the memory of Curchanus. While Leithbridge was daring and a natural leader amongst his childhood friends, leading them on grand adventures reminiscent of an early Brevoy; Telmaine seemed born to nature. From the way Sylvan trilled off her tongue, to her unerring insight into the mysteries of nature, Telmaine expressed the ancient myths of the Medveyed family having been born of the first world. Upon his coming of age, Leithbridge had decided that the priesthood wasn't for him. Having failed to change his father's mind, Leithbridge stole away during the night, taking only those belongings he could carry. He knew his mother would understand and with her gentle way she would avoid the lightning and thunder that would be his father’s invection. On his way through the manor, Leithbridge passed a portrait of one of his esteemed forebearers, an original Taldan pioneer and one of the founders of Brevoy, a student of the Baron Sirian Aldori himself, and one of Leithbridge's personal heroes. His ancestor's dueling sword, mounted below the portrait for as long as Leithbridge could remember, reminded him that he had nothing more than the paired daggers his father insisted all of his sons wear at all times to call his own. As no one ever used the sword and since, to Leithbridge's way of thinking, he was pursuing the path of his ancestor, he removed the sword and took it with him. The only pang of regret Leithbridge felt at his departure was a sense of abandoning Telmaine. As consolation (and truthfully, to assuage his guilt) he promised to come back to rescue her once he has secured his fame and fortune. Here we find Leithbridge Gravenhurst, on his own and wishing to put distance between himself and his family. The opportunity to explore uncharted lands and possibly make a name for himself are just what he desires.
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