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Here is my submission. I'll create a new alias and see if I can find a nice Ratfolk image if selected. See character sheet for charracter description, but in short he is a Psychic Ratfolk that currently makes a living doing psychic readings in the merchant district. Rolls are in this post.
Any adjustments to the Arcanist class, or is it just the basic classes above that get a boost.
Yep, add my thanks.
Continuing her circumnavigation of the giant, Bries steps a bit more in a clockwise rotation about the mountainous monster.
She takes a swing - or was that a swing. It's really hard to tell since it came nowhere near the nearly unmissable wall of flesh. An unladylike word comes out of her mouth.
Bries sidles to the side, hoping to eventually set up a flank. But the thing is so big she knows that it will take a while to do so. "Ouch! Torgen, you are falling into a bad habit there." "Too many like that and its going to take more than a potion to revive you."
Unfortunately, Brie gets her sword all tangled up in the flail chain and almost loses it when the ettin pulls it back.
"No surprise there. That's an ettin, of course, though a bit smaller than the ususal, I would say." Predisposed to take things a little more carefully, Brie was going to let the giant come to her. To her surprise the Dwarf takes off like a shot, throwing himself into the creature mid way through her explanation. "Oh well." Brie follows suit, crossing behind the dwarf and also hits the off-balanced ettin with a heavy swing from her longsword.
"It sure sounds like something large is trying to break out of something. We'd best hurry. No need for stealth - it's making plenty of it." With that she changes tactics and bolts towards the source of the sound.
Brie leads the way, moving quietly, slowly, and attentively.
Brie snags the extra arrows with relief, and one of the tanglefoot bags. She has nothing to add to what has been said and is ready to see what kind of monster this is.
"Sheesh! How can anyone be that greedy? And why did you agree? What was in it for you?" She pauses for a moment with a look of alarm on her face, remembering the picture and hoping it had not already happened. "You did say, WAS going to release right? The monster is not on its way, RIGHT?"
Brie takes her sword and holds it across his mouth, watching as the moisture from his breath leaves its trace. "The blood is coagulating and his breathing is quite regular. Just be gentle so you don't open the wounds and he'll be fine. Wonder what his story is. Shall we tie him up and use the potion on him? I'd like a few answers myself. Though," she adds with consideration, "the potion is worth a fair bit. Maybe we should let nature do the healing. Then again, we are in a bit of a hurry, aren't we?" Her voice lilts upward in an obvious plea for persuasion one way or the other. Brie seems quite conflicted, her forehead furrowed with a frown and her mouth twisting to the side as she ponders.
"You really need to stop this nonsense child."
"I really do not want to hurt you"
"Are you two suicidal? You better put down your weapons now before this gets nasty!" Brie draws her longsword and attacks while fighting defensively for a +2 to AC.
Brie approaches the cart and checks the tracks. She tries to make out what happened there, and to memorize footprint signatures if the ground is muddy.
"What? Just because two childish idiots drew a picture of the thing dashing off towards town does not mean it is gone. I could think of a dozen other explanations. But I guess we are honor bound to follow the fools to their deaths... Let's go." Brie leads the way to the cave but pauses to see what manner of tracks were left, hoping that Merry was right.
"You think the hooligans bribed an ettin to attack the town? I sure hope not. Maybe they want to be heroes and defeat the ettin using the amulet. No, you are probably right. I'd take it pretty seriously. Giants are pretty dang dumb and easy to manipulate, but also pretty dang dangerous and easy to piss off. 50/50 chance, no, a 90/10 chance they're dead now if they tried. A giant of that type rarely looks past the next meal, and that includes people like them." ... "You do know that if it IS an ettin, we would have to be idiots to go in there."
Before entering the cave, which is the obvious destination, Brie checks out the campsite, searching thoroughly, hoping they left the amulet back at camp.
After the group finishes with their questions, Brie leads the way with her long legged strides, scouting for trouble (and prey) as she goes.
Brie shifts nervously before answering the Dragon. She's always heard that talking to dragons is a BIG MISTAKE, but this one seems nice enough. "I've never been to one of your festivals before. What is a brightbloom and is a a patch of them dangerous?"
Poor kids. I sure hope Torgen does not catch up with them before we do. "Merry, I'm thinking it would be a bad idea to let Torgen find the kids alone. We better go with him or they might be returned in tenderized pieces."
Merry positively brightens at the thought. "You know, you are right! And its not like they are asking us to clean dishes, or mend socks. A nice long walk through the wilderness, and getting paid for it?! I've been looking at this all wrong. This is awesome!"
Crap. "Well, Merry, isn't this an unfortunate turn of events. No Richelle, no ring. Normally I would gladly pass on the whole 'hero' thing, though I'm not really sure why one would call a simple track and capture heroic, but I don't see that we have much of a choice."
Brie hides behind the stage and tries to make wildlife sounds during appropriate moments, which turn out to be not so appropriate moments.
Brie blanches at the thought of doing a public performance. But its not like they could see me, right? I'd just be helping or doing puppets!? She looks to Merry for support widening her eyes and tilting her head as if to say, "What do you think?" "What would I need to do?"
"Hmm," is Brie's only response to the wisdom of dwarves, not much interested in treasure and not at all interested in mining and pretty much missing the entire point as he lost the poor girl at 'searching for treasure'. Forcing herself to engage, she shyly approaches the puppeteer and blurts an awkward and too loud introduction. "Hello. My name is Brie."
Ring: Yep. the ring was not stolen, nor did it grow old. It just fell into a lake and was lost.
"What?! A thief? Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Thank-you. I guess its time to watch some puppets." Brie heads on over to the puppet show.
Brie laughs as she watches everyone hop around in sacks, particularly the stubby dwarf (who knew dwarves could hop?) and ends the race in a giggling heap yards from the finish line. After the race, once she extracts herself from the sack, Brie nudges Merry and whispers, "Ask about the ring."
"Merry, you up for a sack race? I'd be willing to give it a go if you are."
"Thank-you Mrs. Mayor." I wonder if that whole dragon thing is true. Not sure I want to meet a dragon, even a good one. Merry willing, Brie will enter the sack race.
While Merry is chatting up the mayor, Brialla secures a notice flitting by her feet with a stab from one of her arrows. Lifting it up to eye level she reads it and asks, "What's the deal with Richy and Tol?"
"Let's go see if we can find the craftsman's mark on it." Brialla (and I assume Merry) go and examine the dragon.
Brialla tags along with Merry, her long legged strides constantly threatening to overtake her companion and forcing her to interrupt their rhythm with an occasional half skip. She nervously eyes the crowd and starts sweating a bit under the pressure of so many people in one place. Every once in a while she pulls out an arrow and looks for defects, smoothing the fletching and sighting down its length at some imaginary target (most frequently the dragon), a nervous habit anyone who knows her would be familiar with. "We should check out the jewelers, Merry."
Hello friends, COUSIN. What brings you all to Highdelve? My name is Meraina, from Port Ice. And yours? Brialla stops herself before reflexively offering her name. "Oh, stop it Merry. It's not like they haven't supped with each other the whole way here in the caravan! And I know you don't need to know why I've come here!" Brialla lounges on the bench like it is a tree limb and she owns it, back resting against the wall, one leg draped over the length of the seat and curled up just before it reaches her cousin, the other sprawled at a 90 degree angle sticking between the legs of the dwarf. She seems uncomfortable on the man-made wooden seat, though, and fidgets frequently. Though normally shy, she knows everyone at the table or she would make more room between herself and the others as you well know from past experience. She usually lets Meraina do the talking for her when around strangers.
Player: miteke
follow alias link for character description of Tally.
I'm going to submit Twang, a Zen Archer. Follow link from icon for crunch. Character Description: Dad: So, you are off on another of your road trips are you? Twang: I can't help it, dad. I'm always torn one way or another. I love it here under the mountain, but I can't get enough of the forest, or the open road. Dad: It's your fey blood son. Runs in the family. If it wasn't for your mom, I'd be joining you. Twang runs his fingers through the shock of blue hair running down the middle of his head, his hand ending up cupping his all so slightly pointed ears. Twang: It sure makes a mess of things some times. The other dwarven lads don't know quite what to make of me. They pound things with hammers, while I hunt for live game with a bow. They spend hours studying dwarven lore and chants, while I wander the forests singing elven tunes. What so you think will come of me? Dad: You will find your place in this world, son. Don't worry about it. Your differences is your strength. The young dwarven lad remains unconvinced, self-conscious as only a tweener can be. He hunches over to minimize the extra height his fey blood inflicted on him, a habit he acquired soon after the teasing began. Colorful hair, pointy ears, and a gangly frame brought him plenty of that. Twang: Well, I hope this exploration party is more open to diversity than my old classmates. I don't want to have to thump them, but I will. Dad: Yea, about that. I didn't teach you those skills so you could go around thumping folks. Remember the way of the monk is the way of peace, inner and outer. You lose your peace and you lose your strength. Twang: I'll try dad, but sometimes people make me so mad. So judgmental and critical. I just want to stuff heir helmets down their... Twangs voice starts to rise as he speaks, only to be interrupted by his father again. Dad: Enough! You cannot control others, only yourself. No amount of stuffing will change minds. You find peace, you bring peace, that will change their hearts. Now go! Begin this journey and come back to me a man. I have faith in you, Twang.
Yep, have fun, and I hope it all gels well for you all.
Would riding (and create mount/ant haul) be sufficient or do you really need to have a wagon? That was my plan, but I can modify the skills if need be.
Updated with additional crunch and a lot more personality.
I've always wanted to do a hand-crafted magus style character using gestalt to join an Arcanist(arcane blade) and Swashbuckler and this is my chance. Mostly complete crunch and background is in the profile from this post. Character Name: Dances with Fire |
