"Aye. Where's food?" Mikka looks slightly disheveled and seeks out something greasy before he resumes mortal thought.
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"Ha! I'll take another round. No doubt you'll be able to win your laurels back on this one!"
Mikka steps up, takes a stance and grimaces. "Been a while since I fired a bow. Here goes."
"I'll play."
Mikka, having no usefulness for digging, or really manual labor, instead gathers stones large enough to serve as a cairn over the grave. When the hymn is sung, he stands, fidgeting and nervous at the display of faith.
Mikka will go with them into the temple, sword drawn and ready for ambush!
Still pondering what to take for a 2nd level. Leaning toward another level of fighter, but also considering a Cavalier. Will update soon. Edit: went with level 2 fighter. Gained a point in Survival to reflect the new woodland ways, Quick Draw as a bonus feat and the usual array of fightery goodness.
"Remind me to be nice to any gods we meet then." Mikka groans and pushes himself off the ground, flexing his torso to ensure the guts don't suddenly decide to come rushing out again. Suddenly he smiles like a moron and does a sweeping bow to Alkaid. "Your healing is most appreciated and most helpful! You do as wonderful a job as you are beautiful, my lady!" Mikka ends by kissing Alkaid's hand as nobly as he can muster. Then, abruptly changing his attitude, moves over to the dead man and turns out his pockets. "Let's see if we can find any indication of who the man/bear was and why he was beared in the first place."
"Punished? Who punishes a man by turning him into a bear?"
Mikka gratefully accepts the curing and sits down heavily afterwards, staring at the bear/man's corpse. "What was that about?!?"
Mikka, barely holding his guts in, swings again! for damage!
Mikka keeps attacking the bear! for damage
None, really. He's never had much time for gods.
Mikka shouts loudly to get the bear's attentions and charges the bear! Attack (charge): for damage. AC: 16
"Only if you promise to keep any flames away. I'd hate to kill us all with a sudden expulsion of gas!"
"We should definitely try to be less tasty, as well. I will endeavor to do my part, though I am given to understand that I am quite tasty to the opposite sex." Mikka says gravely.
"I've never heard any story that ended well that began with 'Well, we went searching for the angry dragon'..."
"Then perhaps we should leave them here, lest we blow up the fort!"
"And arse, if that gas was any indication."
Mikka breathes deeply through an unburnt throat. He bows to Alkaid. "My lady, I thank you! Breathing is thing I take for granted until I can no longer do it."
Mikka sheathes his sword after cleaning it of goblin blood. He coughs, the fire having burnt his throat and scorched him terribly. He leans against Brightest's side, rubbing his eyes to free them of smoke. "If anyone has some healing to share, I'd appreciate it. That blasted goblin scorched me something fierce."
I like Mikka! I'd say he's pretty good to go as is. Thanks!
Sure! Mikka is dark haired and handsome in a very vain way. Think Prince Charming from Shrek, only darker and thinner. He's whipcord thin and is never without his previous Aldori dueling sword. He wears pretty utilitarian armor or clothing, and his sneer is a fashion accessory. Other than that, go crazy!
I'll take one if you have the chance!
"Filthy little buggers!" Mikka dismounts, draws his sword as he goes and attacks if he is able!
Mikka wheels his horse around, scowling at the goblins. He leans over in the saddle, staring deeply at the goblins, specifically the one trying to light the torch. "Before you try that, ponder this: I ride this horse. This beast does as I bid. How terrible must I be to command such respect from a monster?"
Mikka attempts to intimidate the goblins!
"Hey guys. I think I just failed a Perception check.." Mikka says as he pulls a bloody spear from his side.
Mikka shrugs. "Life is what it is. My brother is a good man; I am not. He makes a better heir than I. I make a better roving semi-bandit in a nation of bandits. Perhaps one day I will be a better man. But not today." Mikka smiles back at Silstaren.
Mikka grins at Asok. "You are still hauling those chains around, aren't you? Not the ones you can see, but you keep yourself shackled none the less. And no, choice didn't have much to do with it. When the heir gets married and produces his own heirs, the spare is no longer needed. And as my darling brother was, well, darling, I got the 'Son, we love you but you're disinherited; get out' speech."
"Or it might be that the party in question was thrown out of his house for generally being an arse and a drain on his family's good name. But the slave idea is pretty good, too, I suppose." Mikka says in a loud voice, having ridden up from behind in time to catch the conversation. He grins widely at the sudden silence.
Mikka dismounts, stretches. When Silstaren heads off, he shakes his head. "I'll see to the horses. Catch a big one, eh?" He starts to unsaddle and brush down the horses.
Mikka shrugs as the others gather food. He begins to groom the horses, since his skills lie more in that arena.
Sorry, I just have nothing to add. This way or that, Mikka just wants to go.
Mikka shrugs. "Healing is a good thing. And since my good looks only make the ladies feel better..." He grins and smiles at Elaine.
Mikka rises in the morning, head slightly fuzzy and mouth dry, and begins his morning forms, his sword becoming one with the man wielding it. When the time comes, he saddles Brightest and makes ready for the journey.
Mikka removes one of the copper pieces from Buckwell's pouch and pulls a knife from his pocket. He spends some time carving Buckwell's name and date of death in the coin on opposite sides, then punches a hole in the coin and wears it on a thong around his neck. He does this wordlessly, and afterwards seems relieved and more his usual boisterous self. "So, once we've said our goodbyes, when do we head out again?"
Mikka will take one of the copper pieces, punch a hole in it, carve Buck's name in it and wear in on a necklace. Like a dog tag, reminding him of the dead.
Fort Mikka embraces the drunkening.
Mikka drinks to that toast, silently and reflects on mortality.
Mikka awakens with the dawn and begins a few drills, moving through the various defenses and parries with his dueling sword. |