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Guys, I'm very sorry but I need to bow out of this game. You've probably seen this coming with my recent silence in our other games. Work (my usual posting time) has just been crazy, and I haven't been able to devote much time to posting. In a few weeks I hope things will even out, but in the meantime I barely have time to read the posts, much less learn and apply the rules of a new system! Given that we're changing gears so quickly, I hope it won't be trouble to recruit a player to join you.
Neshim coughs and spits as the acid burns. "Not my traveling hat! It was a gift from a grateful prince! Now you will pay!"
Neshim gasps at the giant insect, then squeals in digust. "You will not be spitting for long, wretched beasty, once my giant fly-swatter of a friend here is done with you!" He shoots another arrow.
Neshim hums a little tune, a moralistic children's rhyme about wandering too far from home, then fires off another arrow!
"Neshim does not hold moments! Hahahahaha! Observe!" Neshim's mischievous giggle carries an arcane tinge that stimulates and excites the ears. With a flourish, he produces his short bow and fires an expert shot at the hyena.
"C-cliffs?" Neshim asks nervously. "It is a waste of space, for a mountain to be raising up where it has no business standing in the first place! Surely there is another way! Samar? Scipio?"
Perception DC 25: Neshim is afraid of heights.
Neshim Neshim peers after Samar, wondering why anyone would enjoy nature so much.
It's nice of you to even worry enough to write this up. But don't worry, I think we've played together enough to know what to expect. I'm most active during the week as work permits, and tend to be less active on the weekends when I'm not sitting at a computer. Some days I can post multiple times and some days, like this week, leave me with little time to do more than pop into discussions.
"As you wish! We will travel slowly this day. But let us be keeping mindful of the name of that which we seek: the countdown clock!"
Neshim regales the others with tales of his excellence in all things.
Neshim is ready to go!
Neshim is beginning to get his hopes up as Samar and Scipio mind their manners. But his face turns an unpleasant shade of aubergine as Samar extends her hand so openly to a noble lady. A choking noise can be heard from down near the floor. Once he regains his composure, he bows again, his silk hat nearly slipping from his head. Nearly. "Your Ladyness! It is a great honor you are bestowing on Neshim and his associates. In this task we will not be failing, be assured! This Countdown Clock will soon be yours!"
Neshim clasps his hands at his waist and bows deeply, the golden chains around his neck tinkling as they graze the floor. "What grace! What magnificence! Lady Vord, Neshim is so pleased to make your acquaintance, yes!" Neshim's eyes bounce side to side as he peers at Samar and Scipio. "Please to excuse the appearance of my associates. They are not being accustomed to meetings of such import with those of such high rank as yourself! But what they are lacking in personal hygiene and wits they are making up for in raw talent." "Of this task the inquisitive mind of Neshim naturally has many, many, many questions, but many are so obscure, esoteric, and complex that they may be wasted on present company, and perhaps Neshim can seek private audience with Your Ladyness at a future time? For now the obvious questions are seeming to be...Who was Tular Seft? Who are the Night Heralds? What dangers are known of the route? What is the artifact counting down to?"
RP at its best!
The little gnome stares daggers at his companions, beard blowing over his shoulder in the arid wind. "Exactly! What is it serving a man to sleep in the woods and drape himself in the skins of animals. You would ask Neshim to appear as a bushy...squirrel!? Ha! Never! As you are saying, Scipio, we are to be looking professional! And so Neshim is come in his fine clothes to meet Lady Vord, to show her that he is a gnome of the world!"
Neshim huffs, puffing his chest out and raising his finder in didactic declaration. In contrast to this haughty presentation, his voice is more like a gazoo. "As ever, Samar, that elevated noggin' of yours is floating in the clouds, probably dreaming of the coin we are to be earning, mmm? Yes, Neshim sees, aha! If we are to be companions on this journey, you must be minding your step. These silks cost a pretty coin, they did!" "But with luck we will be traveling by mounts. And a gnome on a camel is not so easy to be stepping upon!"
"I am begging your pardon!" squeaks a voice from Samar's knees, "but Neshim is always on time!" The white mustachio'd gnome, his head hidden by a wrap of exotic, vibrant silk. His clothes are likewise elegant, and numerous rings and jewels adorn his fingers and neck. "Why, I am standing here all the time!" He runs his tiny fingers over his oiled, white facial hair, pulling both mustache and beard to sharp points.
Here's my handsome, gnomish bard. |
