Orn Longclaw's page

Orn nods. "Fair enough. Sorry for not joining you in doing so this time. Apparently, I grabbed some that had been watered down... cheap bastard." Orn spies Nori pocketing the Wayfinder and holds out his claw. "Would you mind if I held onto the Wayfinder? I'd like to return it to the Major as proof of our effort... no doubt, it will make him easier to request things of him."

Looking at the scribbled map, Orn studied it a moment, before pointing in the direction of the other entrance the ghoul mentioned earlier. "Perhaps we should heed Maurit Pathfinder's advice and make a base of operations at the other entrance...."

Orn glared as the ghoul's head went flying from its body, watching it roll before putting his weapon away. Pulling his pack off, Orn dug around in his pack as he pulled out two bottles of red liquid. "I had hoped we wouldn't need these so soon..."

Nodding at Nori's statement, grateful to see her up and moving again, Orn walked over and handed Sleggar the bottles. "First, inhale. Then, exhale. Once you're calm, give him one of those bottles. If he doesn't wake, give him the second. And try not to spill any... it's all I could scrounge together." Finished with his instructions, the kobold moves to help Nori to her feet, if she can still stand.

"My apologies... but I had thought catching her off guard would leave her open to greater threat. Clearly, my threat alone was not enough. But I am grateful you waited. I wanted to get a map out of her before we put her to rest. But I would not have let her accompany us... I simply wanted to know what she had to say first."

Hey everyone!

I'm really sorry for the delay, we went to visit my family somewhat out of the blue, and my internet was spotty at best, and non-existent at worst. I'm still here, I just got back in town. Gimme a sec to catch up and I'll be back in full swing!

...oh yeah, I can trip and disarm with this thing! AND I get a +2 for the attempts! Trip or attack... trip or attack... decisions, decisions...

"Let them be and face me! You don't need food, just sleep! Rest peacefully, Maurit Pathfinder!" Orn snarled as he conjured another ball of acid, hurling at the ghoul. He followed up with a flourishing swing of his Talon, hoping the display might distract the ghoul from the now stiffened Nori and injured Odryk.

Nah, tripping is Sleggar's thing for now. I'll continue the assault.

Acid Splash: 1d20 + 4 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 4 - 2 = 191d3 ⇒ 2
Flying Talon: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 2 = 241d3 ⇒ 3
Oooo, critical?: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 6 - 2 = 161d3 ⇒ 2

Man, I'm going to have to change my lifestyle if I earn 6 gp but have to shell out 10 gp for living expenses. Can't be living above my means! Then again, I always felt like the downtime rules tend to cost players more than it makes them. Gaining assets (goods/influence/etc) is uber expensive. I'm excited to try it out, though.

EDIT: Looking at it again, that's only 6gp in 3 days so I guess I could see that my lifestyle is doable. I'll keep it :) I think I'll be working to build some network and influence in the streets also.

I personally like downtime like that. Gives you a reason to go back out and save the world. "Aw, nuts, looks like the rent is due... where's my goblin hunting sword?"

Orn looked down at the map, reaching out to pick it up and study it. It was crude... but readable, to be sure. He should "...excellent work. Your chief will be proud of you. I will see Master Valsin gets your wayfinder back as well..."

Orn rolled up the map before pocketing it, drawing his talon once more and conjuring a small ball of acid in his left hand. He didn't like doing this... but none of his magic could reverse this. At least, none that he had access to. "Thank you. I believe... we have all we need. May your snarl be safe on your arrival."

If it's cool, I'm gonna resume that combat and attack. Using a swift action to infuse my talon with arcane point, attacking and casting acid splash on Maurit.

Flying Talon: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 6 - 2 = 141d3 ⇒ 3
Acid Splash: 1d20 + 4 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 4 - 2 = 131d3 ⇒ 2

Orn looked down at the map, reaching out to pick it up and study it. It was crude... but readable, to be sure.

"Don't worry about that. If he will not hand it over, I will pry it from his hands." Orn pulled out his own wayfinder to compare it for a moment, before nodding. Putting his back, he motioned the others to back up before stepping close and pushing the paper and pencil towards the ghoul with his foot. "It would be best if you could draw us a map. You understand, yes? I mean... the part of you that was you? Having someone else along is risky."

'I trust her to help about as far as I could toss her... which isn't far. I don't know how much control she has left... but having a map would help. Have the rest of her knowledge on paper before we move forward. Then we can place her to proper rest. I should also get my hands on that wayfinder. I'm sure that would please the Major on our return.'

Sorry, guys. Life's gotten a little demanding as of late. Sorry to keep things held up!

Orn blinks, before drawing his weapon and readying his spells. But before he can strike, the ghoul straightens up and addresses them. Seems like she wasn't all gone yet!

"Wait!" Orn cried, leaping ahead and trying to halt the others from attacking. "Let's hear her out first! Maybe she knows about the place!" Orn turned back to eye the ghoul, before reaching into his pack to pull out some parchment and a quill. He tossed it at the ghoul's feet before stepping back. "Maurit Pathfinder, yes? We're here to find a jade katana, along with anything else of value to the Society. Can you show us how to locate it inside? If you can't... I understand. But I would be remiss to let a source of valuable information go to waste before we set you at ease..."

Orn returns home to prepare himself for the task tomorrow and get his supplies together.

Orn should be ready to roll... I hope.

Orn, for his part, remained silent. He wasn't sure how much he liked this "prince" laying claim to agreements. It had a slightly less, but still distinct whiff of the sort of thing Chelish devil binders got into. A lot of concern for order and how to phrase things properly and what not. He was simply sick of that nonsense,

That, and he didn't particularly care for folks who threw their authority around with the subtlety and grace of a mallet. Reminded him too much of his chief...

Still, this was an opportunity to make connections... and, sadly, that was important for his larger task. "I don't imagine there would be many lying about in such ruins and still being in tact... but if you say they are there, I will help return any of these stray papers to you."

"...oh!" Orn himself apparently looks surprised that he was talking to just the man he wanted to see. Shaking the human's hand, Orn cleared his throat before continuing. "Well... then I will simply posit my request now. My tribe was forced out of our home by some so-called heroes who attacked us after I aided them in overthrowing our king and rescuing the pinkskin hatchlings he kidnapped for his crowning ceremony... it's stupid and long and shouldn't have happened. But they attacked us afterward and stole our tribe's heirloom, the Crown of the Dragon King. Despite my best efforts, they took a great deal of our stuff, including that crown."

Orn huffed a bit before finishing. "I asked Lady Li if she would help me retrieve our crown if I brought back an heirloom of hers. She agreed, but recommended I speak with you, since you have more influence in Andoran. So... I ask, on behalf of my tribe, if you would help in getting back our crown. I know it is lowly compared to most others, but it means much to my tribe, and I fear I may need it soon."

Orn nodded, bowing as the Andoran spoke with his group. "I will try. In exchange, if you could pass word on to a Major Colson that I wish to speak with him, I would be greatly appreciative. Lady Li tells me he would be most helpful in recovering an important object stolen from my tribe."

With the exchange finished, Orn will try to head back to his room and prepare for the journey tomorrow.

Orn bowed his head, before straightening up. "Thank you, Lady Li. You may rest easy knowing you will have your weapon soon. I will leave and prepare for departure tomorrow, and speak with Master Colson when I return."

Cocking his head to one side, Orn pondered that story. He brought the castle down himself...? Why? "That's a very odd trap... kobolds engineer similar collapses, but we do so to make sure foes stay out... and usually, they are tunnels, not full snarls. Unless, perhaps, Absalom's forces were already inside, and he had something he desperately wanted to protect?"

Orn blinks as he is guided by a servant to a private meeting with their hostess, Amara Li herself. As he steps in with the others, he watches Nori's actions closely, mimicking her to the best of his ability. She obviously had the most experience with this, so it made sense to follow her lead.

Listening intently, Orn couldn't help, but feel for Lady Li. His thoughts returned to when his tribe was driven out of their home, and they'd lost much of their tribe's resources. After she finished, Orn nodded, speaking up himself. "I understand your loss, Lady Li, and I will help you recover this weapon... but, I must ask if you would help me in return."

"My tribe, the Longclaws, used to hail from Andoran in the Darkmoon Vale, and used to be known as the Truescales. We were driven out by so-called 'heroes' who came to retrieve some human hatchlings our king, Merlokrep, had abducted. I didn't agree with him and helped the softskins rescue the hatchlings... and to reward me, they turned on the rest of my tribe and attacked us. I managed to lead most of my tribe to safety, but we were forced to part with many things... among them, a crown that had been passed down from chief to chief in our tribe for many generations. The Crown of the Kobold King."

Orn bowed his head humbly as he finished. "I will gladly retrieve your katana for you - it sounds as if we will be moving underground, and I think I will be best suited to the task - but I must ask: in return for it's recovery, would you use your connections and locate our tribe's lost crown? I know it is paltry compared to a jade katana, and indeed many other crowns, but it means a great deal to us... and I fear I will need its influence very soon. If you would... you have my Draconic Oath that I will either see your blade returned to you, or die trying."

Orn listened, before bowing his head. "Thank you... but you give me too much credit. As I told Lena, I am not looking to restore any light to the world, or earn riches and fame, or any of that. I simply want to keep my tribe safe. I will handle our chief, if he becomes an issue. I simply ask upworlders not do anything rash until I can get a handle on things. But I appreciate your help."

The kobolds yellow eyes dart over as Nori engaged with a woman he didn't recognize. She seemed alright though... he'd keep watch for now. "...Odryk, you used to work for the city watch, yes? If you have any connections, please pass my concern and request along. If anything does happen, they will likely be the first to address it... I'd appreciate if they kept the response as peaceable as possible."

Orn nodded back to Lady Zadrian, inhaling a bit. "It's true. Lena Pathf-- hrm... a Pathfinder named Lena aided what was left of my tribe in moving from Andoran. In exchange, she asked I at least attempt joining the Society. That is why I am here." Folding his arms, he shook his head.

"Recently, I asked our old tribe's midwife, Mekapa, about working at the orphanage you had such interest in." He paused for a split-second, before quietly catching himself and adding. "Ah... it concerns me for her to be so exposed on the surface like that. But she told me something troubling. She and several others worry about the chief - not that Kibizax isn't good, but he's been speaking about expanding the tribe's territory. For my kind, that typically results in violence, since we take new ground by force. I've given him a good portion of my recent earnings - hopefully, some glitter will placate him - but... as Mekapa says, we've got a good home now, and we don't want to move again."

Orn inhaled a bit, hanging his head in either shame or simply taking a pause - his neutral expression makes it somewhat hard to tell. "At the moment, I'd like someone in the Society to know about it... you and your Crusade are straight foward, so I'd much rather you know about it than... certain other allies." His eyes dart ever so slightly towards the Paracountess before continuing. "I don't know all the specifics, but I don't want Kibizax to be like our last chief, Merlokrep. His ambition nearly wiped us out. I'm not stupid... I know people see us as monsters. If my kind do anything brash, nobody will ask why; they'll just hit back. Hard." Orn paused again, only this time, he was visibly uncomfortable about continuing. Finally, though, he managed to work up the muster to finish.

"I don't like being in the spotlight or leading... I just want my tribe to survive. But a reputation is a powerful tool, and it's clear your charity is both straightforward and earns you influence. If Chief Kibizax does start anything, I'd like to have some ability to keep things calm until I can fix them." Orn folds his arms as he shook his head. "My point is... if you have anything that earns a good image, please let me know?"

Orn kept a watchful eye on his teammates; after all, even out of battle, a tribe should look out for itself. Nori seemed fine so far... he had to admit, for a softskin, she had a certain... charm to her. Perhaps the eyes or the green accentuating her scaled skin patterns... Sleggar, surprisingly, was joining a conversation between the Sapphire Sage and members of his new college. Interesting... he figured the man more for theoretical knowledge instead of magical. After all, it was one thing to know how to face a devil and another to understand the principles behind their magic.

Odryk's approach made him feel a bit better. Normally, a dwarf hearing about kobold matters would give him pause, but like Lady Zadrian, he had a charitable disposition and, as he demonstrated, a heavy bend towards order - something he was always in favor of. Plus, he was part of his team. He deserved to know what was going on.

Orn shook his head as he spoke. "Actually, as I think on it, it may help to have you hear this as well. You're a former city guard, yes? Perhaps you have some insight I could use to my advantage."

Ooooo, Words of Power? That is tempting... I've dabbled in it, but never gotten the chance to really use it. Lemme know what I need to do to pursue that.

Orn frowns at Mekapa's words. His absence from the tribe has left him somewhat out of the loop, so the news that the chief may be a little touched in the head worries him. "Bah... this is turning into Merlokrep all over again! Alright, thanks for informing me, Mekapa. I'll see what I can do. Just keep me informed and take care on the surface. I'll send more when I finish another mission. Perhaps something shiny will placate him."

As the days passed, Orn began contemplating ways to defuse the possible threat. It was a thin line... perhaps... he could start 'expanding' by finding work for his tribe closer to the surface, like Mekapa. If he could integrate his tribe, he could improve their public image and potentially appease the chief's desire to grow their borders. And he himself could start to build his reputation, so that if things did boil over, he could try to retain some semblance of authority. Already he'd been hearing rumors about a so-called "Dragon of Eastgate", and he must've impressed the College of Mysteries, as they offered him a title of "Riddle" for a small fee, which he accepted. Honorifics. Reputation. Power. Truth be told, he was conflicted about being so much in the spotlight, but he knew such things were useful tools.

Orn's attendance at the party makes him feel a bit uneasy. He was not used to such opulence (even the Paracountess' grounds were not so magnanimous). And in spite of having cleaned up his armor, purchasing a simple leather cape, and even strapping a few silver coins to his armor to give his some sort of reflective appearance, he felt so... out of place. Unlike that woman in the orange and white dress - her eyes were clearly honed like a warrior's, but she-- wait, was that Lady Zadrian!? She looked... very different out of her armor, to the point he almost missed her completely.

A thought formed in Orn's head as he recalled her words mere days ago. Of the faces he recognized, she seemed the most approachable at the moment. With the paracountess on his arm, he didn't feel it wise to bring up his concerns for the tribe around Captain Valsin. And Amenopheus seemed occupied with talk from members of his new college. He opted to approach her quietly, speaking up once he is next to her. "My kind could learn to blend in as flawlessly as you do." The kobold bows promptly. "Well met, Lady Zadrian. If you have the time, I have something I'd like to speak with you about... I'm afraid it concerns my new tribe here in Absalom."

Orn, for his part, rests and tries to recover from his wounds. He finds himself a small, worn-out tavern with cheap rooms available. Sure, they were small and dingy, but he was used to living in dirt and rocks with no place to call his own. This may as well be the Taj Mahal (whatever that was) for how roomy it felt.

Orn spends his first day finding himself a room, returning to the orphanage they'd visited and dropping off a bag of 20 gp (including a note reading "A dragon rewards his minions well"), knocking and leaving before they had time to answer. Afterwards, he'll bring the bulk his wealth to the Sewer Dragon tribe and offer it as an appeasement to the chief in return for taking in the rest of his old tribe. He'll also stop by and speak with Mekapa about the orphanage. If she agrees to the task, he'll push 10 gp in her claws before heading back to the surface.

Orn will spend the rest of his time digging through the Pathfinder archives that he can get access to, hoping to glean a little from their magical texts. Orn can never be too prepared, and any spells or knowledge he can pick up is another tool in his arsenal. Perhaps, with enough power, he might hold a bit more sway in the party.

Kn. Arcana/Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14
Kn. Arcana/Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Kn. Arcana/Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

"Interesting... I could get some good use out of a few of these things." Orn said, looking the plethora of goods over, particularly eyeing the invisibility potion and the Knock wand. "...if you don't mind, I'd like to hold on to these two. I think my size and... natural gifts would blend well with these."

Peering over the collection of coins, Orn grabs the silver ones and pockets them right away. He separates the platinum coins apart and a few of the gold. Those would go to his tribe. He also set aside a few of the gold pieces, and made a mental note to ask Mekapa what she thought of her taking care of the little ones at the orphanage.

All the platinum pieces Orn will send to his tribe, along with 8 gp because I hate uneven amounts like that. So, 78 gp in total, I think. Orn will also put about 20 gp in a bag and drop it off at the orphanage. If Mekapa (his old tribe's den mother) opts to go with them, he'll send 10 more gp with her so she can use the place to raise kobold hatchlings as well. (Don't know what good it will do, but one never knows what charity will yield.) He'll keep 20 gp for himself along with all the sp because he likes silver, and put the rest in the group funds (I think that'd be 50-60 gp, if I'm doing my math right).

Following the others into Nori's room, he waits for her to rise from her sleep before nodding. "Welcome back. Sleep well?"

Orn nodded as he listened along to the discussion... and it suddenly struck him just how far he'd come. Mere months ago, he was leading a dying tribe in Andoran for survival. Now, he was the guest of a noblewoman, a personal hand to one of the most powerful organizations in the world, and being invited to attend a feast hosted by a clearly wealthy and influential member of the Society.

Still, he never forgot his task at hand. He was not interested in wealth, or riches, or notoriety. The well-being of his newly invigorated tribe was all that mattered to him. He didn't need much... a few silver trinkets would be more than satisfactory to him. The rest could go to his tribe... and, as he thought on it, he would pack away a little for that orphanage they'd visited.

Orn will opt for a poor lifestyle, and send the rest to his tribe below the city streets, some to the orphanage and save a little to help Nori back on her feet. If it gets them in good graces with the current chief, all the better. (Honestly, for kobolds, a personal room is a luxury, so he's pretty content.)

"Agreed. Perhaps something to get all of us fixed up." Orn grabs a couple more pieces of meat, before pausing and looking back at Ambrus. "...just one. Who is this... Amara Li, anyways?"

Orn winced as he woke up the next morning, still feeling rather sore. Heading down for food, he seemed unsure about what to pick... and just got a little of everything. He wasn't used to so vast amounts of food.

Tearing up a piece of particularly fatty bacon he grabbed, his fringes perked up as Sleggar addressed him, still chewing through his answer. "Yes. Battle is nothing new for me. When you grow up in a tribe like mine, death is something inevitable; the best you can do is to die on your own terms." He ripped off another piece of bacon as he continued. "I wasn't frightened... I was trying to climb up and get around the fog. But I couldn't get a foothold. I had hoped by getting behind them, we could catch them off-guard... so no, I wasn't scared. Just unlucky."

Orn pokes up from his hiding spot, before hobbling as quickly as his legs will carry him. He was grateful for the Paracountess' arrival... but having to spend more time than necessary in her company was less than appealing.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Can barely feel half my limbs - tail included - cut me some slack!"

Orn just stays hidden and watches carefully. He wasn't sure if the chelish noble's arrival was a good thing... or even worse news.

Injured and not feeling too well, Orn resorts to his basic instincts and decides to find a place to hide. Hobbling over to some nearby refuse, Orn falls down and plays dead (which isn't too hard considering how close he is to it), staying silent and motionless to hide.

Time to do what kobolds do best: run and hide! If there is some nearby refuse, boxes or trash, Orn will try to make a stealth check to hide behind it. Otherwise, he'll turn tail and run as far as he can before collapsing.

Stealth: 1d20 + 11 - 3 ⇒ (16) + 11 - 3 = 24

Oh, NOW I get a good result! Bah! Whatever... perhaps if I survive, I can somehow get back on my feet, healed and hunt these suckers down.

I mean, I know I spent a lot of time climbing, but I thought ONE of those rolls would turn up good... though it probably wouldn't have done me any good to be in battle with results like those...

Man... methinks we're going to lose this one. :(

Climb: 1d20 + 3 - 1 ⇒ (3) + 3 - 1 = 5
Climb: 1d20 + 3 - 1 ⇒ (9) + 3 - 1 = 11

For crying out loud, Orn, CLIMB!

DM, I'm about 7.5 feet off the ground on the side of the building, yes? I ask because the height may determine Orn's next move.

Orn continues to scamper up the side of the building.

Climb: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Orn continues to clamber up the side of the building, hoping to get to the roof tops as quickly as possible. Now that he wasn't being hounded by the other sword carrier, he did his best to put a bit more speed into it.

Can't recall exactly how climbing works, but I think I need to make it with a move action, so... I'll just roll those and see how it works.
Climb: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Climb: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
...not very well, methinks...

Orn's senses only barely tell him that the blade is coming for him, but his quick reflexes bend his body backwards, avoiding the blade. Orn quietly slid back into the fog and made his way to the alley wall. Bumping into it, he looked up, before an idea hatched in his head. Placing the chain of his talon in his mouth, Orn started to try clambering up the side for the roof. If he could get up the side, he might could slip around and either ambush the source of magic... or flank the enemy from behind.

Taking a 5' step away from whatever attacked me and try to hide in the fog. If I can, I'll try climbing up the side of the nearest building to the roof. (Don't know what kind of DC that is, but I'll roll both stealth and climb just in case.)
Stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
Climb: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Athraz blinks up at the giant spider, before growling and leaping to a battle stance, claws flexed into straight palms as he prepares for battle.

Orn ducked as a wild halfling came charging out of the fog cloud, challenging Sleggar to a battle. That was fine with Orn... no doubt, the crazed little brute was too thick to have conjured this fog.

Someone else was here, and Orn knew it.

Luckily, Orn's group had a little fellow who was more brains than brawn. Exhaling calmly, Orn surged magic through himself, fueling his weapon with arcane energy as he cast his readied spell. A small barrier of magical energy rose up around him as he moved into the fog himself. True, he couldn't see who he was facing, but this fog worked both ways, so they couldn't see him either!

Stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15

I don't know how wide the alley is, but if Orn can move past the halfling safely, he'll cast Shield on himself (+4 AC, plus it blocks magic missiles) move about 10 feet into the fog. Otherwise, he'll just fling his Talon at the clearly angry halfling using Spell Combat for a -2 penalty.

Flying Talon: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 - 2 = 5

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

No clue what the fog is, but I'm assuming it's unnatural as all get out, so I'm gonna guess it's magic involved. So... ALL THE CHECKS! And also a Stealth check to hide behind anything I can notice. The fog should help...

Kn. Arcana: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Kn. Dungeoneering: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24

Orn looks up as the fog billows around him and his companions through the ally. This... was bad. Drawing his talon, he quietly slinked closer to the wall on his right. Whatever conjured this fog, it had obviously never met a kobold - this was his element!

Also, using a point from my Arcane Pool, if I can... but I don't think I can, because I didn't make the check earlier...

Orn blinks as his scales turn a deep shade of blue. "...oh no! I changed my lineage to a blue dragon!" he cried in dismay, before pausing. The heck just happened? Orn tried to recall his long list of knowledge, seeing if he recognized this change...

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

As Odryk managed to get the door opened, Orn stared back in bewilderment. They were being timed? This whole Pathfinder thing was getting really weird... and that's coming from someone who called a kobold tribe family! Taking the box, Orn studied it as they left the estate. "...so... do we head back, or...?"

Orn decides to let the bigger races get the key. Dahak knows, he wasn't going to be able to reach it. As the key falls, Orn reaches down to snatch it up, before trying the key on the remaining chest.

Yes, he knew some kind of magic was tied to it, but Nori was right - time was getting short. And sometimes, taking charge meant choosing the less slimy of two slurks.

Orn stares down at the viper, before inhaling quietly. "...thank you, Sleggar. You'll make a very good chief of the Hellknight tribe."

Orn looks up as he sees a gold key fall out and hang down for them to see. He cocks his head to one side as he blinks at it. "...is that the key we want?"

"Ah, that's fine. I wouldn't know how to play it properly. I read that some musicians can charm snakes with music... I was going to try that. But I have a few other ide-"

Orn blinks as everything around him happens so fast, barely able to register what just occurred. However, when the snake stops moving, Orn seems somewhat saddened by the death. He clenches his claws, fangs bare, as he glared up at Kelwin. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?!? I was going to try luring it out with some of my snacks for the day! You didn't have to kill it!" He looked up at Sleggar, as if about to chastise him too, but stopped himself. He was simply reacting... he did what was best...

Orn picked up the key and frowned, before handing it to Odryk and turning to the snake, kneeling down and checking it for life... and if he can, try to rose it. "...I know I have little room to speak on this matter: paranoia and preemptive action is the hallmark of my kind. So I understand the desire to strike first and worry never. But ever since I've come into contact with bigger races, it seems like you all want to resort to violence at the first excuse you get. I know you don't have scales, but I thought your skin was tougher than this."

Heal (untrained): 1d20 ⇒ 7

Orn frowned. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to get the viper to come around. He bowed his head for a bit, before inhaling. "Perhaps it is because I know what it's like to have your home invaded... but I don't want to meet everything with fighting. I'm tired of the anger, and isn't good for those on the weak end."

Orn blinks back at the dwarf, looking down in the basket. "There is? ...well, that's an easy get. If you have the right spell prepped. I don't, but there is another way. Several, actually. Got any instruments?"

Orn watches Odryk tinker with the chest, before getting bitten by the snake... and as he does, he can't help, but think about the dwarven ruins his tribe used to call home. [i]No wonder they cleared out. I'm impressed they lasted long enough to build the place.[/ooc]

"Looks like you disturbed her nap. Best to put the lid back on and let her be." If he can, Orn will get close, put the lid on basket again, and turn his attention back to the chest he was examining. "If the key won't open that chest... perhaps it will open this one. Give it a shot?" he asked, allowing Sleggar to do the honors.

Orn, for his part, has a good look at the steel chest, detecting magic coming from it. Obviously, the banded chest was dispensing a trace of illusion magic, but Sleggar made the much evident when he tried toying with it.

"...this thing has some sort of aura of magic about it... if it's anything like the others, it may be trapped. Let me test it..." Orn carefully closes the distance between himself and the box, and once in range, takes his talon and chucks it at the steel box, hoping that if whatever trap would trigger was from touch, he'd be out of range... hopefully.

Going to use my Flying Talon and range touch the box with it. Also going to use Perception on it before I do, just in case...
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Orn felt even more out of place as he walked through the government district. He just felt like eyes were constantly on him, like he was going to steal anything that wasn't nailed down if given the chance.

He felt due some credit - he wasn't THAT stupid.

As he plopped into a cushy chair, he settled in as he listened to the tan human speak, talking about biding their time and waiting on their heritage to shine through for them. He liked him... this Osirian bunch seemed to have a kinship with his kind.

At the mention of jumping into some vault, Orn sounded intrigued. The prospect of finding anything valuable was always appealing to him, even if he had no use for it. He looked between the chests and baskets as he started to glean any magical energies from them.

Kobolds thrived on paranoia. It's how they survive.

Casting Detect Magic on all the things in the room.

Orn seems somewhere between awkward and happy to get the hug and see the children "saluting" him. It was new to him... he liked it, but it would certainly take some getting used to.

Following back to the Silver Crusade, Orn lets Odryk explain things, perking his fringes up as she frowns. He didn't think she'd shown much emotion at this point as before - it was disconcerting. Asmodeus knows one wouldn't see that from a kobold chief. But hearing they had someone to help take care of the little ones he'd left was a relief.

He seems to recoil a bit at the kiss as well. Clearly, physical affection something he'd have to get used to. "Let's go, then? I think we have one more stop?" he asked, evidently eager to hop out of there.

"Did you want to take action?" Orn asked, trailing alongside the tall human as they moved out. "Kobolds have a saying: 'Stay out of the way, live another day.' We've learned that delicate situations sometimes require you do nothing at all. Better to let the right people do the job than to jump in yourself and screw it up."

"Let's say you notice a shaft in the snarl is weakened due to faulty supports. The smart thing is to report it to the fore-dragon - you know, the one with the mine map and knows where the right kobolds are, then stand back and stay out of their way. The wrong thing to do is to try and fix it yourself, especially if you don't know what to do. That puts the whole mine and your tribe in danger." Orn looked up at Sleggar and nodded. "And with your size, it's better to not say anything. You're definitely bigger than me, so you don't have to say anything - people know not to screw with you. When you're my size... well..."

Orn nods from his perch at the front steps, looking up at the guard as he embraced his daughter. He didn't fully understand the relations of larger races and their kin; they bonded with their offspring greatly. For kobolds, a hatchling was the responsibility of the entire tribe, and nothing was more rewarding than one looking up to you as an example of hard work, and nothing more noble than giving oneself to defending the unhatched eggs.

So, Orn couldn't say he understood how this guard felt, but in another way, he shared his satisfaction in seeing her cared for. His tail slapped the stone as he walked to Odryk's side at his order. "Sounds good. I believe my 'minions' can handle themselves until I return, yes?" he asked aloud, looking back to the children in the doorway.

Orn snarls back at the old woman as she comments about his kin, huffing. ...stay your claw, Orn. Actions speak louder than words, and the Society demands a good example. Orn merely returns to distributing potions to the children.

The sound of the old woman shouting outside earns a growl from him. However, he calms himself and remains inside. No doubt, him showing up would earn some nastiness... or at least, unlikable looks. Better to stay and tend to the little ones.

"...you know, you look like one of the pinkskins I saved back in Andoran." The kobold commented, looking at one of the smaller children as he hoped to distract them from commotion outside with a story. "He had been kidnapped by a terrible monster - a Forgespurned, they called him. I helped battle the beast to save the little one. I entered the creatures lair, thick in smoke and the sound of a roaring furnace nearby..." Orn continued his story, obviously embellishing pieces here and there, as well as leaving out the "heroes" and their role in the battle. Perhaps if he could entertain them, they may be more willing to side with them, should the guards start asking questions...

Orn looks up at Auntie Gilga, scowling a little before quirking a brow and looking at the labels and scrolls. "I will try... I think this one goes to... you." The kobold moved over to a nearby child and handed her a potion.

"...I believe I may know someone who could take care of them. Our tribe's midwife, Mekapa, has taken care of our hatchlings. She is dedicated and protective. She stood between our intruders and our tribe's young... and with her, our tribe would be invested in keeping her safe. These pinkskins would be very well protected and cared for." Orn handed out another potion to a child as he shrugged. "Merely a thought... perhaps she would scare them, as I do. I do not know."

Orn's fringes perk up, looking expectantly at the boy before looking at the girl who quieted him. ...I may not know much about humans, but I do know when someone is making stuff up. That's not it. Orn slipped the obsidian piece back in his pocket, but kept the gold coins out. His expression stayed neutral, but his tone seemed more... genuine.

"Do you know why I faced the Dragon King? We disagreed. He kidnapped several human hatchlings, much like yourselves, and planned to kill them... I helped save them. Any plan that harms hatchlings is a bad one. Of any kind." Orn eyed the doorway out, before turning back to the children. "This Auntie Gilga reminds of our Dragon King, in many ways. She is selfish, isn't she? She cares more for herself then your tribe, yes? She scares you to do what she wants... that is not how a leader should be."

Orn reached into his pocket and pulled out more gold coins, placing them on the floor in front of the children, roughly 10 gp in all. " These are yours. I believe you have answered my question enough... but I will hear more, if you wish to say so." Orn waits to see if the children have anything else to say. If they don't, he'll take a scroll and potion from the wall and head on back to the group.