Myth'rawn's page

Mr. Jack. :) He's been working on music in preperation for going back to school, so no worries.

k

Click here. It's labelled.

Thrawn leaps off the building, and sprints to the base of the Old Light.

k. :)

:D

I know, right!

Initiative 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5.

Thrawn yanks something out of his backpack before shoving the bag into Lyssia's arms. "Hag's plummet." he hisses, then he kisses her boldly on the mouth.

Ignoring her nonplussed expression of shock, he shoves her down the alley, away from the mob. "Go!"

Bellowing as loud as he can, Thrawn turns and leaps impossibly onto the roof of the building next to the alley, landing nimbly, twelve feet above the alley, his giant hammer in his hand.

oops...darn /spoiler's...

Thrawn stands suddenly. "We need to leave." He strides towards the exit, shouldering his pack. "Now!"

"I need no help. I've spent years in the wilds of Irrisen," Thrawn moves from body to body, examining them. ...warring up at the worldwound, traveling through Belkzan, Varisia, and Aroden knows where else."

Thrawn strides from the room with purpose.

Thrawn grabs a week worth of provisions and places them in his pack.

Thrawn blinks as if noticing Akos for the first time as it eats it's food. "That things alive?!"

"I'll need my satchel. The Sherriff had it removed from me." Thrawn picks up a bunch of grapes and pops one in his mouth. Chewing, he addresses Buford. "You will be joi -" gagging, he looks at the grapes. He tosses them down, and looks around the room desperately. After a moment, he closes his eyes, and swallows dramatically.
"Gozreh's damned seeds..." he shudders. "You're coming with us?" he finishes lamely.

"Something he may have missed, obviously." Thrawn shrugs appologetically at Satinder. "I'm not saying you did miss something, only that I may see something you don't know to look for."

Awesomeness. Where is Paizo's like button?

"Would you mind if we examined the bodies now that we're all watered?"

"I am a threat to certain individuals or organizations because of information I have on them. Perhaps there was a change in leadership, where the young, naive minds felt my person a danger to their survival."

Thrawn moves to the bodies, and appears to be examining them, although everytime he moves in to look at something, or touch something, he stops milimeters from the corpse, and then stands abruptly, clears his throat, and adjusts to what must be a more comfortable viewing position, only to repeat the process again.

"Outside? Thrawn laughs dryly for a half beat, then, realizing that Buford is serious, blurts "Alright! It's possible that the killer may have come to...get at me." He looks around the room, from one face to another. "If you must know, I'm probably the most dangerous person in Sandpoint. It was inevitable that someone try to remove me from the face of Varisia. Knowledge is power, and I am supremely knowledgable."

Thrawn rubs the back of his neck. "There groups that might be involved...but this is Sandpoint...it's not like they'd have motivation to come here."

"I can think of dozens of places I can go. I can only think of a few that I can't go." He purses his lips, thinking. "Off-hand, I'd say - the Devil's platter, farther on the north road, or perhaps a farm somewhere. But if we want to stay in town, so I can lead this investigation, I'd say...the theater, the glassworks, Vender's house or even Avery's."

lol. true.

k. We'll try not to kill the characters...

"I had some...substance...like an oil...on my hands. Clear. I don't know where it came from." Thrawn looks expectantly at Lyssia, then Buford, and finally Satinder.

:)

Thrawn moves his hands to right under her nose. "Well?"

Thrawn rubs his fingers together under Buford's nose. When he continues to scowl at Thrawn, he grabs Buford's hand. "This oil shouldn't be on my hands. Do you know what it is?"

"Do you recognize this?"

Looking at his hands, Thrawn holds them up in Buford's face.

Thrawn looks about the food. "Any mead in here? Rum?"

"Sherriff, I assume I can have my belongings back?"

Thrawn nods in agreement.

"Stoot? Vinder? Avery?" Thrawn thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "How they came to me as a suspect in the fist place is truly baffling."

He turns to the guard, still standing there, and sighs. "Oh, very well. Sherriff, could this man please get me a buttered bun and a cold milk?" He scowls at the guard. "You took me from my home by force, and I haven't eaten. Unless you'd like me to ask the pitchfork-bearing mob..."

Thrawn stands there for a moment, regarding her, looking a little abashed. "You are so right. I'm sorry."

He turns to the guard. ""Seeds was a stupid idea. They cause gas, and we can't have her feeling uncomfortable. Clearing her name is our highest priority, now that we all agree in my innocence." He smiles back at Lyssia. "That could have gone horribly wrong." He leans in and whispers loudly "Good catch."

I was rising up out of the sludge of a mossy river with a tricerotops on my shoulders. :)

Myth'rawn regards the bodies, then turns to one of the guard standing about. "Could you be so good as to get me a buttered roll? Something with seeds on the top." He leans to Lyssia. "Would you like something?"

I am back.

Agreed.

lol. I know. Giving you grief.

I should be able to post just fine while in L.A., btw. :)