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Ortossi helps load their weird, rattling haul up for transport before he opines," I don't know if, yer, well, if we're in a rush or not, but if we are, probably best to head straight back, in't? Never know what sort of strange stuff'll crop up on the way as it is."
Sorry for missing your post, Lisl. Was on my phone for today's post, which I'm going to blame for my abject failure to spot your message. D'oh.
Ortossi says nothing as he launches another pair of arrows at the creature, mindful of the ensnared Josef. He's not sure if he's having much of an effect, but he's not much interested in getting close enough to the plantoids reach.
Ortossi blinks. He'd thought it was smaller than it was, and closer; perspective was playing tricks on him. He hadn't thought it could possibly be as big as it was. He considers calling out his own companion, who must be lurking somewhere in the wilderness nearby, but decides against it. This thing was too dangerous. Meanwhile, while he contemplates, he takes a pace forward and lets two further arrows fly, the cold iron heads flicking through the turbid air towards their target. ________
" Some sort'er huge plant thing. Looks nasty!," says Ortossi, not adding much in the way of information but certainly emphasizing what is plain to see. To punctuate his observation, the ranger tries to put two arrows into the heaping mound of grossness.
What's best practice on the map? Should I move myself, or should I describe my movement in my post and let the DM handle it?
Ortossi wasn't kidding about the mule; for much of the trip, his pack is strapped to his beast of burden. A large forest cat also travels with the company, though far enough away from the group that it effectively communicates that it's not really following them so much as it is choosing to travel in the same direction. Cats. At the mud bowl, Ortossi stays back with Lisl, outside the reach of the miasma, unslinging and stringing his bow. "I'll cover you guys. Good, uh, hunting," says the ranger.
"Ortossi. Some call me Ortossi Ironskin. The bounty hunters, well, they were probably looking to collect on my life. Where I'm from, assassins rule the roost and the business of killing others is as common as can be. I didn't really keep asking them why they were after me, ye know?" The ranger, for his part, is ready to go whenever.
Outside, Ortossi loiters like a studied professional, seated on his pack, and eating a morsel of cheese. When whatever collection of people come out to interrogate him, he stands up. " Hm. Well, I've got a mule, and a big cat, and some jerky. More important might be that I've been evading, out fighting and out foxing bounty hunters off and on for years. Know my way around traps, snares, deadfalls, ambushes and the like. Scramble a mean omelette, too."
Ortossi sucks on his teeth as he thinks about that. He's in no hurry to answer. "Seems as accurate as any other way to put it, yer."
Getting to know you
The ranger considers this question as they walk, his gait the easy rolling proceeding of a man who spends a lot of time putting one foot in front of the other. " Naw. Not as such. Been out in the back end of the world for a fair while. My loyalties mostly been to keeping my head attached to my neck, ye know? But, worr, beer don't grow on trees, and Wallace's grown 'ccustomed to eating oats, the lazy beast. Wouldn't mind having a roof over our heads in the winter, neither. Need silver and gold to make all that happen." Ortossi scratches at his cheek as he ruminates on unfamiliar topics involving bmoney, and it's diverse uses. " Seems like a nice enough village though, in't? Leastwise there's no guild of assassins running the place, that's for sure. Makes for a nice change."
"Never met them. Don't generally make up my mind on folks what I don't know. As for what I've heard, it's good enough I dragged myself from one end of the River Kingdoms to the other to partake of the hospitality of this here village of theirs.". Ortossi is quick to take up his pack and sling it over a shoulder as he follows the presumed underling out the door, an almost comically over sized hammer resting on the other. " Expedition, eh? Exploratory, military, or diplo-matic?
" .. to absolute shreds. It were like-," only the story isn't finished, the thrilling conclusion to 'Four Bounty Hunters Get Lost In The Woods Part 5' gets cut off by, if not the offer of work, the lyrical sound of a full coin purse in motion. Ortossi polishes off the flagon, lays it down on the top of the bar, and eyes the nondescript man. "We-ell, that depends on what it is and for how much. Though it looks like you've got a good start on to the how much."
Within the Silver Raven's walls, standing before it's bar and gesturing expressively with a flagon of beer is what could be charitably described as a 'mountain man'. The clothing adorning his broad frame is very frontier, and the cloak he's got piled on top of his pack on the floor next to him very obviously has it's roots in an unfortunate bear.
He's doing his level best to monopolize what passes for a conversation at the bar with an assortment of other drinkers; he's deep in the middle of a third straight story involving being outnumbered by unsavory sorts. "... so, you know how hunters drive their quarry ahead of them? Well, these fine gentlemen thought they were driving me towards this little glen they'd rigged with foot manglers. Only, ye see,I knew they were there. So I..," and Ortossi carries on with the gruesome tale.
Howdy team! Your
Ortossi is ready. I assumed Wealth By Level, will modify if that turns out not to be the case. Stats:
Ortossi (OR-toss-ee) Ironskin
Male Human Ranger (Trapper) 4 N Medium humanoid (human) Senses: Perception +10 Initiative +8 AC 17; touch 14; flat-footed 13 HP 29 (4d10+4) Fort +5; Ref +8; Will +3 Speed 30 ft. Melee: Lucerne Hammer +7 (1d12+3 /x3) Reach, B or P Ranged: +1 Composite Longbow (Str +2) +9 (1d8+2 20x3) or +7/+7 (1d8+2 20x3) Ranger (Trapper) Class Abilities
Str 14, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 8
Backstory: Born in Daggermark to a wealthy ‘businessman’, Ortossi had an extremely comfortable early life. Tutors that he ignored, nannies he disobeyed, and expensive meals he pushed around expensive plates. Some elements of it were unusual, of course. The most peculiar of them all was that his father insisted that Ortossi always wear a light shirt of chainmail underneath his clothing whenever the family left the house. This quirk is how the young boy, at the tender age of twelve, survived the roadside assassination which killed the rest of his family. Fleeing pursuit, Ortossi vanished from the city and grew up in the wilderness of the River Kingdoms. Ortossi flourished in the wilds. Every so often, a bounty hunter from back west would venture into the Emberbough to seek the price on his head; the attempts kept Ortossi sharp, and his ambush skills sharper; Ortossi considered them to be a delivery service of fresh boots and better backpacks. On the other hand, no degree of cunning would enable him to fight the many covens of Gyronna’s worshippers in the woods; he could only do his best to hide from them to survive. Hearing stories of a new city-state forming in the Stolen Lands to the northeast, Ortossi decided that perhaps living a life that wasn’t entirely a game of cat and mouse could potentially be pleasant. Maybe he’d find something better in Silverhold?
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