Lokien Forge's page

I don't even know whose tun it is.

Taking that as the signal, Lokien charges in with a loud warcry.
"For Forge, Hearth and Home!"
Leading in with his axe, the dour dwarf slams it hard against the first thing he encounters!
Charge! AC -1
Axe to Face or something 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 4 + 2 = 151d10 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Lokien moves off into the underbrush where he can be ready to do a rush into their camp.

His axe readied, the dwarf struggles to make sense of the recent memories and the current situation he finds himself in now.

Looks fine to me.

Send PM? or Bot.

Have placed myself on the map.

Lokien on the other hand waits for the signal.
His breathing slows even as his head begins to pound. Something about this seems dreadfully familar but he tries to concentrate on the battle ahead even as images of fires dance about within his memories.

Not the time! he forces it down!

"Unless you have some ability to take out those already sleeping.....or persuade them too."

Lokien looks up strangely for a moment and teh street stall seller of hand crafted items answers.
"I have no idea what exactly you wish to do. What I do know perhaps is that if we take out their light, they'll be blind or maybe we can cause a distraction or something."

"Six men. No patrols what so ever. A scholar or wizard. Sounds like either they're plain complacent or they have got the confidence to back up such lax security."

Lokien looks at the elf as if he's a fool even though a hint of sympathy lies in his voice.
"I have no memory of my past life let alone my home, it may that my home is still around or razed to the ground" he sighs as he looks at the fire before turning..............

His eyes narrows and it seems as if someone else stands before you. Someone hardened or heartless.

"You want action yet the very thing you were told to do, you did not. No word of how their patrols operate or move, their numbers or how many would be in their tents yet you wish for a blind rush into their camps? Lives would be lost and for what? A piece of your people's heritage? Heritage does nothing for the dead if there's none living to remember it."

Lokien stares into the night waiting for those who went forward to come back.
His mind fills with vague images of bright light and sound non of which he understands or can make out.................yet.

I'm stll herererere

Helps that humans can't see in the dark.

"Have I?" a confused Lokien glares at Viridios.

"Seems like common sense to me....."he scratches his chin as he struggles to actually understand why he said the things he did.

"Hmph." Lokien goes and he seem changed as if planning something.

"Get in and find us the quickest way to get through that encampment, if you can listen in on what they're here for. Good. Failing that get yourself out safety. If you can get food or weapons out without being caught then do it but that's secondary. What we need to know is how their patrols work and how far their camp extends too." Lokien speaks but his eyes glazed over as if recalling from some time back.

"The rest of us will hunker down and wait for you. Remember Get yourself out safety first."

"Horned Skull?" he grumbles.

"Can't they just give it straight instead of hidden eaning and such." as they leave and come across the emcampment, the dwarf is still grumbling under his breath until he beholds the camp.
"Please tell me we aren't going to charge through that." he rolls his eyes believing his companions not so fool hardy.

The aged dwarf grumbles as he finds he cannot remember which way to go and if not for Kret and the others he would have made the journey last months instead of days...........

Knowledge (Geography) 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11 if it helps to shorten the path though Lokien knows not the path.

We're outside the town by now. No sense staying there.

Lokien looks up as the soup begins to boil over, carefully lifting it over the fires to hang above it.

"Soup is ready. Fill your bellies and then we go towards what ever ancient land you fellas want." ladling out bowls by now.

Lokien sighs.

A plan to just while the night away with new found companions gone.
Just like that.

Having setup a simple pot in it simering a delicious smelling soup, he watches over it as he waits for the soup to boil.

"So what now?"

Happy Birthday to you!

"Instead of bothering about singing boxes, worry about geting out first!" an agiated dwarf reprimands his companions.
"Unless you all intend to be singing to your deaths, I really want to be out of here and away. Once tucked in safety then we can discuss singing boxes and what notes they can hit!"

Shrugging of the female rogue's hand, Lokien mutters something though it sounded like.
"Yes. yes yes, move now or fight these loons."

He heads for the doors, seeking to get out as soon as he can. Elf or not be dammed.

Lokien's head hurt as the smell of blood from Kret rushes into his mind.
Blood. His mind swims as he is suddenly confronted with multiple images. Spattered blood......Screams and battle cries....his hands

Shaking his head, Lokien now urges his companions as he himself makes to move for the door, his brow furrowed though in impatience or pain, one cannot tell...........

The pounding in his head starts to intensify............Lokien stubbornly resists.

"Kret!!!" Lokien bellows.

"Kret!!! We're leaving now!"

Lokien rolls his eyes as his name is mentioned once more pausing to casually shove one of the brawlers conviently into another's way.

"We should have gone there in the first place but now with this riff raff likely to follow us. I'll be cracking skulls if they mess up the place as it's a little cosy for a small group and not a place to hold this kind of party." as he begins to move towards the exit.

"You know our names because of dreams? I hope those dreams prove illuminating else I can tell you right now. I know nothing!!!"

Lokien resists the urge to pull out his beard!
These......children! his furious thoughts ramble as he looks around to see exactly what the rest of the people inthis inn including the herald is doing.

"Why is such a story setting off such a fight?" grumbles Lokien.

"It was a pretty good one too....."

"Reorx beard. What's keeping them?" grumbles Lokien.

I'm preparing to run since I have short legs. I might need a headstart.

"Nay Lads, Hold your ground and by the gods. Why that form?" curses Lokien as he attempts to restrain his companions only to see to his horror, the form taking of a dreaded black knight.

He looks to see if the true black knights has taken note.

Is anyone interested in playing this at 8th or 9th level with a group that has been playing for alm ost 3 years? We need a cleric, another fighter and a skill monkey. We have a Knight of the Crown, another fighter and a wizard of the Black Robes.

You could do both games.

Link? I could come up with something.

The dwarf blinks.
"I go by Lokien Forge."

Finishing clearing up his wares, he shoulders his pack easily as large as he is and turns to the rest.
"We should start moving out now before the guards closes the gates for the night."

Lokien looks at Kret and instead bursts out laughing as he realises just what kind of situation they are in. Ignoring the rest of the possibly startled stares, the dwarf begins to rolls what meagre wares he has up and stow it.

He doesn't even have the heart to tell the Man before him that he actually doesn't know his way around town either.
"Come and break bread with me then. I don't have much but I'm sure it's enough to fill you while we go hunt up some food out of town. I don't know this town or rightfully to say, I don't remember this town at all yet It's familar to me. Same for that music. It's beautiful but I don't remember where I may have last heard it. In fact I don't remember anything at all."

Patting Kret on his shoulder, the aged dwarf continues.
"I do remember how to close up quickly and with some luck if both elves and agree, we'll take ourselves outside and set up camp."

"Not all elves are gone." the dwarf whispers softly.
"There are two before you though I detect certain differences...."

"Here. Take as much as you need Plainsman." Lokien offers his own waterskin.

"From where do you hail from and in such straits?"

Lokien sighs.

"I can't recommened either since I try not to stay in this town as much as I can. I usually make camp a mile or so outside." He also doesn't hide the fact that he's pretty much broke and likely can't afford a room.

Lokien bids both elves farewell and notes the times for when he needs to pack up as well.

"Hail and well met." Lokien glances at the newcomer.

"Perhaps an interest in my wares?" Yet another non buyer..... he thinks.

At Viridios's words, the dwarf shakes his head.
"I'll have to decline at this time as I do need to at least sell one or two of my wares before the sun sets. Perhaps later but you'll get no tales from me that you coldn't get from another."

Lokien glanes at the axe the Elf is asking about. Well made though no work of a master, the blade still bears dents and imperfection runs along its steel.
"This one? My first attempt at the forges. Not worth anything else but since it's my first work, I keep it."
The dwarf doesn't say anything else since the axe was the only thing that survived the wars. The only thing left of his family. A long to a past long ago when he still had family, friends, home and something else lost the years had tried to soothe over. Life.

Stupid SIte outrage. lol

Classic Setup if I've seen any.

So who we got?

He is a neidar correct?

Yep. Have never quite liked the mountain dwarves much.

It had being a long day. It was hard work enough to setup the booth but the atmosphere here was heavy. You'll have to be incredibly thick not to notice the way people here looked at each other and the presence of teh Dark Knights enforcing the law didn't help matters.

To put it simply. One word to describe it all. Oppresive.

How was one supposed to hawk his honest wares about here? Most of the people trying to buy wares were either hawks or mice with a few snakes inbetween.

Wait a potential customer! he thinks as Viridios comments on his work. It wasn't much but a comment like that stroked his pride.

"Aye they be fine work, Milord. Straght from the forges, formed from my hammers and blessed by Reorx's own Good eye. You'll find them suitable for the tasks you want them to do. Like this pot ere." he holds up a thick laid wide pot.
"This one will bring the heat throughout your meals be it on a sotve in the house or a hanging over a campfire."

Here but the thread has fallen pretty far down.

Strokes his beard.

Hmph.

Who needs their weapon fixed?
I charge reasonable rates. Kender please stay away. Last one who didn't listen still has his blood on me axe.

I made work as a short intro to this one.