An halfling with Helpful focused on Aid Another, perhaps a Dragon Cavalier, can do a lot with an easy roll. This profile is such a build.
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I'll gladly game with any of you in future. I suppose I'll see you in the recruiting threads. I was indeed a good run. Good people make it so. :)
(raises teapot)
Seeing what Gerald was shaken by, and a moment later seeing Gardsin's evident distress at what he'd seen, Lem hoped to have activity be a solace. They'd likely had enough of idleness, these poor people. "I need three who can count, to make separate counts of all here. You, you, and you.", Lem said, choosing his volunteers. "I want a count of each person, live or dead, that was in that hole. You all report to Malwyn, in the hat, and when he's done with you, back to me." "Three more, you three, get me some water boiling, small pots are faster on small fires, we'll get some porridge up, and more water for the healers." "Any healers? Any mothers? You, and you, that one there is Jessup, see what he needs to make ready, we'll be sending wounded as they show dire." "The rest of you, please help any injured to make a line, hurt to healthy. Or stand in line in place of one who can't be moved. We've only got so many hands, we have to hold them.", Lem said, translating from hobbit wisdom.
Lem ponders only an instant, before speaking in tones that would be of command, if they were an octave lower, "We got here safely, we should get you out safely. We'll move quickly, but come out slowly, so no one gets hurt."
Lem speaks to the Hound in Hobbitish:
"Good dog." "Likely he heard something. Hiding survivors? Whoever triumphed here, wouldn't need to hide. Let's gather another blade or two, and see if we might help."
Softly, in Hobbit: "Anything here, boy?"
"Well", Lem says, "Or rather... unwell." "Ready your bows, and I'll ride in for a sniff?", he asks.
Sorry I've been super busy now that school has started again, and on top of that my computer crashed last week. I'm on my phone now, but I feel that I have too much going on to maintain a steady level of posting. Glad you're alright, guy, with so many people not alright. Should I copy that to the Runelords?
Krular hasn't posted under any alias since the 9th. He was also GM of a campaign I was in, hasn't been there. I would not wait for him.
Might be good to see Jessup, too.
When Gerald goes to speak with Dar, Lem gets the red box from the wagon, and brings it indoors. If he can conceal that it was taken from the wagon (by hiding the hole it left behind), he will. Otherwise, just get it under cover. Lem will sleep sitting against it.
"Perhaps the color was attractive to them, in some way. The... opener.", Lem says, bringing a tray. "Tea?"
always hard to run on a flat tire...
"There's a mercy to it, that may not be recorded into your books. Or it may. You might find the record a profit of its own kind.", Lem suggests.
"The Captain seemed in favor of it, and said we would not be going ahead as we planned. Best you speak to him directly on that point." Lem pours some tea and refills the kettle, ahead of the need of seconds, or of more drinkers.
"Surely. I'll start a kettle."
Dunno, but my 'never split the party' sense is tingling.
"Say...", Lem croaks from beneath a crate too heavy by half, "Where's Jessop?"
"While we clean up the mess, you might favor to know, while at dinner with the Captain, the matter of some unreporting townships was raised. Perhaps when you've more time, speak to the captain about a possible turn through that space. You see, he makes clear we've little chance of moving on as we'd intended..."
"I can't care about the stone. I do care about the others, out beyond the camp's light. And I suppose, about the red box...", Lem says, leading the warhound to the places each of those missing had slept. If the Lady's scent were too mild, perhaps the unwashed warrior's wallow would work weal...
"I'll tell you this, though, Master Gerald: If your red box be found, it's had its last day dressed in red. It'll meet the morrow inside another of your crates, though your wares be left behind. And before you decide if you'll take offense from my candor, think if you'd rather a wise crack, or a foolish silence."
"It was horrific. The tainted man summoned forth a creature of fire from a great crystal, and battled it to his death. This, somehow, preserves or reclaims his honor or afterlife. Malwyn might know more. He cannot wish to speak of it less.", Lem says tiredly. "But Malwyn, could you ask the bird, to see what it might, find who it can? Night falls, and only one of them might see in it." Lem readies the Hound. He plans to try to find the others.
"Quit teakettling! Burble boil whistle WHIIIINE! Paddle me later, Ma! Help me fight the fire, now!" Lem stares at Gerald as one would at a pouting child, until Gerald calms or sputters to a stop. "Grand. Now, where was it? We'll start there. Unless you know something of better use?" (If shown where the red box was, Lem whistles for the Hound, and provides the dinner dress or other source of scent, to allow tracking (and catching up) in the gathering darkness)
Third. It'd be a shame to have the Hound sniff Ice's dress for nothing. :)
Yeah, totally. Between these two critters, we ought to be able to find the rest of the party at least. Split parties are hard to GM.
" uh, Yes we'd best get going... Don't you think Lem? " and with that Malwyn tugs his hat down further over his eyes nods at Captain Dar, looks to Lem and then walks away quickly towards their quarters. Lem's pace and mien are more subdued, until he sees he's falling behind. Then at least his pace improves.
Lem somberly returns to the rooms lent to the party. He will seek Gerald with the intent of discussing the excursions favored by Dar with Gerald.
I would say I was waiting for more at the burning. Not sure what's going on with the stay-at-homes.
"Your boy fought well, sir. He never faltered.", Lem says, trying to find something to say. "Is this what awaits all who fall to the beasts, yet return?"
Lem watches the battle in the flames as closely as he can, to honor Jace's efforts.
At the Captain's long silence, Lem offers, "They got to say goodbye. That was worth my risk."
"I'm here as a duty to your Jace, sir. I could have... Maybe should have... But I'm glad for whatever time you and he have had. Whatever you need of me, I'll do what I can."
"Some terribly sound reasons, no doubt", Lem says softly, doubtfully.
"Oh", Lem says, shock and dismay in his voice. "And we're invited", he observes dryly. "I will go. It seems a duty. But... has anyone ever tried to survive? Ever? There are more of them out there, let us ask these questions, before they are about one of us."
"Um... Malwyn? Jessop? What is the Rite of Fire?"
"Have all towns reported? Where roads still run, perhaps Master Bright might be contracted. His goods stockpiled and safeguarded here, his wagons and guards... us, sent to help clear your stragglers. If, as I think I've been told, every peasant lost is another enemy to be fought, the matter is not just simple mercy, but a mandate of good tactics."
"Well, that may confound Master Bright's plans. I wonder, then, if he'll dismiss us. If he did wish to push on, we would have a duty to push with." "Is it these floods, then, which bring the tents and suffering we've seen?"
Something about the juxtaposition in Gardsin's full-mouthed praise of halflings tenses Lem, but only an instant before he smiles. "For my own introduction, I am LemmingKaynin Lyminder Kocannut Menayd, simple shirefolk, a bit too fond of racing hounds to herd sheep, too fond of breads to be a baker, too careless of glass for alchemy, but apparently nimble enough a fencer, helpful enough a hand, it's hoped; it is our friends, could best speak to that. I am, like the rest here, contracted to Master Bright's caravan, and sadly bound onward, perhaps too soon. There are many people here, who might be helped."
"The finest of us gentlemen, is the Lady.", Lem smiles. "We are all warriors of some stripe, ere these past days. All schooled in and scarred by violence. But the lady, I think not. The threat of battle, it's aftermath, all the worries a warrior might not notice, were new to her. Yet she bore it all well, brave in the moment, standing strong as any of us men. And we saw that, though I think she knew it not. When I met her, her eyes reminded me of stars, or of ice. But I think I was wrong then; I think they might be steel."
"We all hope to be wrong about that.", Lem says softly. "There's some hope, in that the other foul things wilted with the passing of their leader. If it was the leader's presence, that buoyed them, then the loss of it, might let your son fight off whatever was... is... might be, in him. It's a hope, at least."
Surely so. Happy to gloss over the dress and shaving and local color. Would be less happy to have done it all badly, but would accept such if it was the only way to move forward. Don't have to win, hoping not to lose, and ready for dinner. :)
"Oh dear! Where has the time gone! Lad, here is your coin; you did your best, and deserve it. And ma'am, I promised your lad a coin for the parent he showed me; please do not make of me a cheat by refusing. Your coins are so large, and they weigh on me; I trust you might bear them more lightly than I.", Lem jokes, giving each a coin, filling the air with patter pre-emptive of any protest, before making his escape under cover of another deep spritely bow, and a peekaboo look, as though expecting the same. Then while they bow, he rushes off.
"Well, I've asked your boy for flowers. He says there's none. I had a lady to bring cheer to, you see. And now I've found another. Madam, I am LemmingKaynen Lyminder Kocannut Menayd...", the halfling says with a deep spritely bow and flourished feathered hat-doffing. "And I might be of help. If I may. I mean, If I may, I could. Or rather..." Realizing he'd lost the thread, Lem changed colors. "Does this cinnamon seem fresh to you?"
Lem will charge an urchin among the tents with a penny and a mission: "Three pretty flowers, for another penny. But only three, and only from you. And I'd like to meet your mum or your da'. That's another penny for you." Otherwise, Lem will pay the merchant for the goods. Any saving made through the urchin can go to the parents, hopefully in exchange for their story.
Lem asks the assembled party (less Szarka, I guess) if they need anything, before he goes off to do 'a spot of shopping'. He'll be looking for cooking herbs, washing soap, ribbons suitable for hair, and some flowers. This is all actually secondary to two more-true missions: codenamed 'Hot Water' and 'Why all the Tents?'. :) If he returns with ribbons or flowers, they are left near Ice Eyes. Herbs go into his kit. Soap is hoped to be joined by hot water, which is first offered to the Lady, with an eye-blinking silent suggestion to the other menfolk to perhaps leave the quarters for a time. "We're invited to dinner. I doubt the last day's trail dust is.", he says, smiling. Lem's teakettle is to provide freshly-hottest water after that, suitable for shaving, with Lem making a general observation to the menfolk that dwarves may prefer beards, but usually fully developed ones. Lem removes any hint of his own.
"Malwyn, I'd like to ask, that while you are at your ease before dinner, you try to recollect all you can on the matter of the corruption. As the most educated among us, surely so, in such matters, it is perhaps likely, perhaps fitting, that our explanation come from you." Lem finishes his introduction of the rooms to his Hound, then joins Gardsin and Krular at the door a while.
Lem leads the Hound around the space given to the party, giving the beast freedom to linger at anything of particular interest to it. During one or another of these pauses, he grumbles to whoever is nearby, "Oh yes, your boy was howling at the moon, and singing harmony with the beasts attacking us. So we give him back 'is tap shoes, an' wished 'im well. Oh! That's different, then! Come along to dinner!", the halfling pantomimes, lifting his shoulders to hide some of his neck. He sighs, unamused by his own comedy. "Damn near ended him myself, and would have thought it a mercy...", Lem says softly, settling beside the Hound, sniffling and blinking his eyes. The Hound laps at his face, but soon Lem gentles him away, "Pfeh... You're just after the salt." Lem rises, and they continue their patrol.
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