That's a shame, but I understand, given the circumstances. Perhaps I'll see some of you in other games down the line.
Also, I am glad to see that you are doing all right, Brek.
Search Posts
Well, you know, patience is a virtue, yadda yadda yadda... Waiting takes zero effort, and you clearly have a rather dedicated core group here... plus I knew what I was getting myself into when I made this particular character pitch.
Still around and ready to hop in whenever the time comes.
Yeah, Mordin would have to enlarge himself and chug a bull's strength extract to top a +8, and that's a lot of rounds and resources to spend, even for such a fine weapon. The weapon is probably worth investing a proficiency feat on, but he's already got a lot invested on his claws and teeth. Unless he really doesn't want it, I do think it'd be best in Angmar's hands. If it's being ruled that bane stacks, then that's awesome, and even if it weren't, the inquisitor ability remains relevant since it can be used on pretty much anything.
Cool. I'll go ahead and roll for level 6 as well, then. HP Rolls:
Mordin still has a bit before showing up, so would you mind if I tweak a few things on his sheet? Nothing major, just some changes to his racial abilities. Oh, and could I try rolling for hp? I figure more hit points would be better since he'll be fighting at the front line.
I did not look too deeply into whatever disagreement played out between Apollo and Angmar, but if the former is truly gone this time around, perhaps the dwarf might be willing to pop in again?
For what it's worth, if anything, I'm still checking in on this.
Mordin, your time to shine will be soon - they just need to kill Thratkinas first and gain access to the actual House of the Beast before I see fit to let you start posting. Oh, I'm aware. I knew what I was getting myself into when I made this character pitch. Thanks for the heads up though!
Just checking in to to say that I'm keeping an eye on this. I'll just set up my chair here and eat some popcorn.
Alias is all finished up. Had a heck of a time finding an avatar I liked, so I guess Mordin has an epic neckbeard.
It's a long way from Geb to Talingarde if I'm interpreting the location you gave it correctly, but that's appropriate enough; he'd certainly be willing to travel that far to corrupt a land that follows a "pure" deity. I'll work that into his backstory. That being said, he is definitely a worshiper of Urgathoa, whose portfolio most fits his desire for undeath. He's not quite a priest of course, but he is convinced (whether it is true or not) that his condition (and perhaps his current predicament) are her doing.
Profile has been updated with the crunch. I have a sizable amount of gold leftover, but nothing to really spend it on. At least, not without over-encumbering him. Currently considering a wand of some sort, though. Also, the Friend of the Dead trait comes from the Inner Sea Primer, so that would be up to your approval.
Mahorfeus here. I was going to take the Dual Talent alternate trait to mitigate the 8 Constitution, but I feel that the loss of the feat and skill point would not have been worth it. (And as you said, this is an undead gig after all.) Mordin is an Oracle of the Bones mystery. His body is slowly wasting away, so he already looks the part; he acknowledges this as a blessing instead of a curse, and sees undeath as a path to immortality. Naturally, his penchant for necromancy makes him a public enemy. He likely has every reason to be at the manor already, but I'll elaborate on his backstory when I get the chance. I have the crunch mostly ready, but it's on my home computer - I'll get that information onto this alias as soon as possible. Mordin will be lacking in the healing department, at least until everyone makes the change into undead (negative energy, and all), though he can take cure light wounds if it's necessary for the time being.
"Far too optimistic, Mai," Mordin says, slipping a vial out of his sleeve, "We already got lucky with the children. Whatever is up there is more than likely going to try to kill us."
"Oh, bother."
His beady, suspicious eyes darting to the ground before them, Mordin prepares to lead on, before pausing abruptly. "Watch my back. It may not be there for much longer..." he murmurs to the others morosely.
Mordin is strangely quiet during the return trip to Zelkor's Ferry, passing up the chance to drone on about how the children's father is probably dead already. Frowning contemplatively, he saunters along as usual, casting wary glances in every direction.
Mordin mumbles to himself as he sifts through his alchemist kit, looking for any reagents that might be of assistance. "Hmph. No such luck. Mixing an antitoxin would take far too long. Longer than she has to wait, perhaps." Nonetheless, he looks over Mephise's wound.
No one in the 'village'... Mordin notes, before noting the speaker's warning shot. Slowly but surely, he looks up into the trees. Bloody hell. They have the high ground. We'll be filled with arrows with no time at all. We're all gonna die here. I knew it. I never should have listened to Pieter. "It's for the greater good," he says. Bah! I should have stayed in Ustalav. The drink was good and the inevitability of death was only half as apparent. "Death from above..." he mutters, shifting uncomfortably.
"We actually have a plan?" Mordin says morosely with genuine surprise, though the only noticeable change in his expression is a raised eyebrow. "I'll scout ahead, then. Don't mind me..." The alchemist saunters off to the side and slowly approaches the huts.
"Maybe it wasn't always a doll," Mordin offers, his frown persistent, "Perhaps it was once a man, and was bound into this form. Perhaps we will be turned into dolls as well." The alchemist's words devolve into mumbles, making it difficult to tell whether he is trying to be sarcastic. "Frankly, I'd rather be killed..."
Mordin sighs, though not quite in annoyance. "I'm telling you that there's something up there. Looks humanoid. Don't come crying to me if it kills you first."
Mordin sighs. "I'll do it," he says gloomily, stepping forward, "Maybe they'll kill me first and save me the trouble."
Stopping, the alchemist looks up into the trees. "Look, there they are now. Too dark to tell what they are, though. Such a shame."
"Shine on, Pieter, shine on..." Mordin mumbles as he walks along to his doom.
"Well that certainly sounds promising," Mordin comments with a drab sigh, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not sure who's more of an idiot - the one who wrote this drivel, or the ones who actually believed it." The alchemist squints a bit as he inspects the sign more closely and then speaks again. "I take that first part back. The one who wrote this was only pretending to be an idiot." He turns to the others, grim realization on his features. "That's the direction we're going in, is it?"
"Well that looks promising," Mordin mutters sarcastically, looking as though he expects everyone to die at any given moment.
"That's what you said about my sister..." Mordin mutters as he saunters along, his various flasks and bottles jingling in his packs as he navigates the uneven terrain.
Mordin shakes his head and sighs at Cereza's news. "We are all going to die, are we?" he asks rhetorically, "Don't answer that. I just wish I had drank more bloody ale before coming out here. To the forest we go, then."
"Talk while we ride, Pieter," Mordin says to the paladin curtly as he steps onto the ferry. Frowning at the empty glass of ale he took from the inn, he chucks it into the river. Looking to the ferryman, he scowls as he counts out however much money the fare is. "Just take us across the river, ferryman. If we don't get moving now, we never will."
"I would not object to warming my feet in the frying pan for a little longer," Mordin remarks, before taking another draught of ale, "There will be no moment of reprieve once we get into the blasted place."
"Superstitious nonsense," Mordin mutters, "Pick a direction and go. It'll be impossible to get anything done if we try to account for every crackpot warning we get." Despite his brashness, Mordin is all too happy to buy everybody's drinks.
|