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Hi All, I am leaving this game. Please bot me if you feel necessary. Scranford, I apologize for the inconvenience and wish you Happy gaming. P.s.: Scranford, please remove me from the list of active players when you get a chance. Otherwise the campaign stays on my Campaign tab. Thanks.
Apologies. Fixed.
Nik'olo is bleeding profusely. He looks at the healed rat with some jealousy, but itherwise slide back to a bit of safety. Then he sheathes his rapier to get his bow.
Nik'olo follows in Khanol's wake and lunges at the Goblin.
Satisfied with his strike, he clarifies: "There's still time to surrender!"
Nik'olo is too busy looking for traps, until his friends draw their weapons. He silently draws his rapier and gives them a nod.
"Before we look for anything, let's look for remaining traps. Snorri running around is one way, but I'm sure they've left others..." Nik'olo then starts to methodically move through the space, looking for likely spots to set up a trap.
Nik'olo stays behind his crate. He can spot Khanol engaged with a Goblin and tries to catch the Goblin off-guard.
Nik'olo darts back up and fires another arrow at the nearest Goblin.
From behind his crate, Nik'olo first contemplates the idea of leaving, simply, but then his mind drifts to his Canton comrades, whom he saw dangling from ropes just as his snapped under the weight of Fate. He sighs, then prepares his bow before taking a quick peak. He spots a Goblin, perfectly aligned and perfectly unaware. In one motion, he rises and lets a shaft fly.
But the Goblin is no longer where it was... Nik'olo drops again behind the crate and tries to move to a new position.
When Griot draws attention to himself, Nik'olo dives behind a nearby pile of old crates.
"Nice sp-" is all Nik'olo manages before the horror of Croaker's transformation seizes him.
Nik'olo carefully makes his way to the others, wondering whether they'll wait, and if they do, why they're waiting. If he manages to reach them, he gives them a questioning look, trying to read on their faces whether there is something to fear ahead.
Nik'olo watches those ahead start moving. He hesitates for a heartbeat, but guilt wind the day this time and he leaves the safety of shadows to hurry behind the forward group
Nik'olo bites his lip, fighting the urge to share his opinion. For now, he sticks to his shadow and blends with it.
The moment he feels trouble might be lurking near, when he hears the snarling, Nik'olo slides towards a shadowy spot and stops moving.
Once hidden, he calms his breathing and listens carefully while his gaze flutters over the scene.
Nik'olo is thrilled to have a roof on his head, but he opts to go out for food. As Brik comes, he grunts and slowly gets to his feet, his head reminding him he did not just eat oit yesterday... Still, once up, he is ready soon enough to part, but he chooses to ask, just in case: "Coffee made?"
Nik’olo comes within an inch of a beating as the Watch doesn’t appreciate his tone and his sorts. Once they return to the Roach, he says: ”At least we know these will be coming after him. Blind revenge. Futile, but nonetheless murderous and likely to spark more violence. How do we stop them?”
"Right, that is very helpful. You've done more than enough! We'll be on our way, and if you don't mind, perhaps we'll meet at your place to take in the whole 'scene of the crime!' If there was a dagger, perhaps there were other clues left behind, that would further inculpate the miscreant and point us, not only to the culprit, but to the return of your daughter, safe and sound, yes?" replies Nik'olo, studying the man, wondering why revenge seemed more important perhaps than getting his daughter back.
"A dagger, well that sounds promising, yes... Did you find other pieces of evidence? Something that we could use to really nail it down? For example, where did it happen? How did it happen? When did you find out? How did you find out? And tomorrow you say?! Well, that's helpful too!" replies the Elf.
Nik'olo's face reddens as he takes the blacksmith's verbal anger. For a moment, he considers stabbing him though and through, but he decides that was not the best course of action. Plus one hanging was enough, at least for the time being... With his coarse voice, the slender elf replies: "Exactly! We're on the same side! We want justice, we want safe streets! And this means getting your daughter back. The Watch is watching you say? Well, that's what tha Watch wauld do, won'tcha thank?!? Us, we're not watching, we're acting! So you say Kobolds did it? Well which ones, and why you think it's them, is aaaall we need to know."
Nik'olo looks to his colleagues and realizes that perhaps he should do the talking, though you never really know with these rougher types, right? "Well, to be honest, and direct, which I guess a man like you would appreciate, it is us that would seek to help you. We've heard of the disappearance and... Well, we want to help find her!" He turns to his colleagues and smiles nervously, trying to convey that this was going great and there was no need for violence.
Thanks for the heads up.
Nik'olo stares at the Ravenfolk as a long silence follows his tirade. He's talking sense... Should we be worried? Finally, he breaks the silence: "Croaker has the right of it, mostly. Not sure why we should be looking for a ring... Anyhow, we'll spend the night here. All of us. We'll be with him when risk is high, but when it's low, then we split and some of us fo for a few hours to see if we can't find a solution. Otherwise, as Croaker says, bodies will continue to go missing and risk will rise, and the mob roused, and we too will hang at the end of a rope!" he says with his broken voice.
Nik’olo smiles and offers: ”The thing is: we don’t know that the specialist are trying their hardest... So it can’t hurt. Griot stays here, while we explore another way to protect Brik, yes? Onwards to the Blacksmith then?”
"Come along, I'd say! Perhaps you could stay out of sight, only to show up after a few minutes. It might tell us more about the smith. How does that sound?" The tone of the rogue tells you that he's not very much convinced...
"Yes, plenty to do. Blacksmith it is then?"
Nik'olo takes a good long look at Brik, then shrugs. No way that Kobold took a dozen victims between delivering sandwiches! "Well, now or later, but today, yes? I want to see that alley..."
Nik'olo watches the thug run and let him. He turns and nods, wiping his rapier before sheathing it: "Croaker did that!? How?!?"
Nik'olo's eyes widen as the Ravenfolk unleashes unlikely magic with surprising ease and violence. Recuperating fast, he turns and follows in Snorri's wake, drawing his rapier. He waits for Snorri to force a parry then slips his rapier underneath the guarding movement.
Now what kind of barbarian asks whether they should rage..? ;)
Nik'olo is distracted and wonders what the Dwarf is swallowing.
Nik'olo nods at Griot and stands up to get ready, as well as far away from the food.
Sounds great.
"Delivering the food ourselves sounds... well, sound. And yes, we don't to all do it, unless we expect whoever it is that delivers to also receive, that is, be attacked, in order to know to get to Blik. So perhaps one delivers, while the others lie in wait?" "BBut I also agree with Khanol, that this won't just go away. The daughter must be found. Some of our time should be used to that end. As Griot mentioned, there is a strange chain of coincidence here? Tell us, Blik, were you alone when you lost your dagger? Who else was around? Could you also point us to where in The Cartways you lost it? I would start from there..."
While Griot asks relevant questions, Nik'olo turns to Croaker and says: "I'm sure he wouldn't... I like where Griot his going, his line of inquiry. In the Ironcrags, they have a say: 'The best defence is a good hanging.' Now, while I might see some wisdom in this, I would venture to say that, from the perspective of the hangee, there has to be a better strategy, which is what Griot seems to have figured."
Earlier "I must say, Khanol, your appetite is inspiring amazement and fear. What internal furnace burns inside you I cannot fathom... To your health, my new companion and friend!" As they reach the place and presentations are made, Nik'olo's thoughts drift as he tries to figure how many names can be conjured using a single syllable. Bill, Bob, Tod, Rob, Ron, Judd, Jill, Jim, John, Ted, Todd, Tim, Tess...
He smiles at the Kobolds, wondering what sorts of arrangements goes on between them when it comes to raising families. Is it as the gossips say, or is it even more sinister!? And he loses track again...
This food is great, and I'm with Snorri on contributions and performance. Say... How did you come to choose this name for your restaurant?"
At first, Nik'olo listens to the Ravenfolk, but after a bit, he gets it and tunes Croaker off.
He is impressed by the network of tunnels and pays little attention to the rest. "His name is Groit, and let me get the wine." the Elf says, then proceeds to pour everyone a glass, finishing with Clotch. He just nods when told they'd sleep here. He was hoping for a place to lay his head down. This was perfect. "We have wine, we can tell stories. Reborn as well, eh Croaker!? That's just amazing!"
"Me! That can't be!? I served my time, and then some!" the Elf replies with his coarse voice. He pulls the collar of his once-white silk shirt to reveal a deep and fresh scar around his neck, like a burn. "I died already..."
"You had me at 'secret trapdoor.' I'm sure it'll pay plenty. I'm in! Let's go down!" replies the Elf, seeing the stars align before his eyes. Plus, that at least meant he wouldn't have to come up with some excuse not to pay for his drink, he thinks as he smiles and takes whatever glass his companions leave behind and sufficiently full. Going down, he says: "So now I'm a cell in a cellar... Makes sense."
Nik'olo turns to Snorri, follows his gaze, then nods: "Quite right. I think Act 1, Scene 1: 'No pain, no pain' is just about to unfold!"
Nik'olo ponders the Ravenfolk's words for a moment then says: "If it were so, would it not turn the whole enterprise of adventuring moot, as there is no adventuring without adventure. Our world only teaches us through resistance. Thus the struggle is the heart of the balance. It keeps us... adventuring!" He goes to take a gulp of wine but the state of the glass turns it into a chaste sip.
"Fame and Fortune can also come along 'Ze Greater Good' no? I recall a treaty from an arcanist, specialist in the transmutation of gold, Adamus Semithus Magnus or something, who in fact posited that every individual adventurer, by seeking personal fortune, participated, overall, towards 'Ze Greater Good.' Selfishness, when summed, amounted to selflessness... So there you go! As for joining the Scouring Wind... sounds a little too... scouring for my taste. I'd like to give Helba a fair shake first." Nik'olo replies to Croaker.
"Griot! My apologies. Though, come to think of it, Groin would be an apt war name nevertheless... And Snorri, well met!" He ignores the reference to the smell, hoping the Kobold or the Halfling will get charged for the sin.
In the alley near the Stormy Pegasus, Nik'olo slaps himself with his cape with great gusto. A cloud of fragrant dust, half dried mud, half dried cow dung, lifts from his clothes, filling the alley. Once satisfied that he's left the long road from the Ironcrags behind, well, around, him, Nik'olo straightens and proceeds to fix his once immaculate white shirt. He is careful to cover the long scar that runs red across his neck. The thing stung still, and he winces as the dirty silk scrapes ever so slightly against the tender skin. He then uses his hands as makeshift irons to straighten his tunic and his cape, keeping his rapier well out of sight. Finally, his long silver hair he licks to the side. He feels his hair sticking to his scalp. He knows he needs a bath, but first he needs coin! He gives the piece of paper a last look and checks he has the right place before carefully folding it and putting the paper back in his bag. Right he thinks, to new beginnings! Again... And he steps through. He tries not to smile when the barkeep gives him a long, curious look. He feels special, all of a sudden, and he feels a bit of courage flow back through his veins. Going through the portal and into the filled room, he pouts as he is mostly ignored. He feels the energy in the air. So much hope! he thinks. He tries to spot a mark, but everyone here seems just as desperate as he is. He spots the most downtrodden of the lot, making sure to give them a wide berth, only to come around and realize they're all at his table... For a moment, he contemplates leaving, then the vision of his friend swinging lifelessly fills his eyes with tears, or perhaps it that barkeep's breath? Anyhow, he owed it to the fervent priest to at least sit through this... He walks over and takes a seat away from the dirty Halfling. With a voice coarse like a fork scratched against a plate, he greets everyone at the table: "Well met everyone! My name is Nik'olo. I am here seeking fame and fortune in the service of St. Helba- What? Oh, wine pleas- no wait! What kind of wine do you carry? Anything from South Septime? Why are you looking at me like that? Red only? Well, red then... Wait! Would you be so kind as to clean the glass before you fill it. Use my handkerchief... Where was I? Yes! Nik'olo, pleased to meet you Groin, Croaker, and... I didn't catch your names?"
Dreaming Warforged's rogue is done. Almost done. Crunch is done, just a few personality things to iron out. Comments and suggestions are welcomed.
I'm travelling again this weekend, from Thursday afternoon to Tuesday afternoon. Please bot me as needed.
I'm away for a week and a half or so. Posting will be limited. Please bot as needed.
Nik'olo looks at the young Tiefling and says, while keeping an eye on the group closing in: "Perhaps we should move to another area? This is all very interesting, and I do want to ask about your heritage, but now is perhaps not the time?" Organized Play Characters
Aliases
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Deaglan
Garret
Eolowyn
Faeranduil
Dimitra
Kintampo
Isabella Aldori
I-5
Baskoro
Sirion Greenspeaker
Fritz Fratz
Cleric Deck - Zarlova
