Quick''s page

"S+#+." Quick squeeks, his voice pitching higher than it had since his adolescence. "Listen, Joy. JANE! Listen, Jane. I'm really sorry. I didn't want to involve you in this. I'm trying to save the woman I love." Quick nearly swallows his tongue as he remembers Ajaxx in the room. Cheeks burning and not taking his eyes from Jane, Quick continues. "I'm trying to save Vylyra. My colleague. We're friends. I know that." He whirls on Ajaxx and shouts, "Don't you think I know that!? Of course, I do!" Calming too far, too fast, Quick returns his attention to Jane. "I'm sorry. The stress of this situation has gotten away from me. What I need is for you to just stay here and take a break while we go save our friend. Remember, I tried to be professional."

Quick turns to the door and checks to ensure Ajaxx is following before rushing off to save Vylyra.

Quick flaps his mouth a few times, but no sound is forthcoming. Finally, he shakes himself and nods. "How will you find us again?"

The color drains from Quick's face. "You're leaving?"

But Henry did not answer. Quick follows, stricken until Henry speaks to him again. "What's happened? What's on that paper? Surely we can all go? You can't just leave me." The young Half-Orc blanches and clears his throat. "Us. You can't just leave us."

Quick makes the purse vanish from his hand then draws 20 gold coins from the purse at his belt and counts them into the Dwarf's hand. "The bird is for the lady and you'll be throwing in the leash and falconer's gauntlet as a gift." he says flatly.

Quick snaps his fingers, causing a heavy, jangling purse to appear out of thin air a few inches above his palm. He catches it as it falls out of the sky.

"The integrity of my coin should be the least of your worries."

Prestidigitation. Intimidate 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

Quick places a hand on his purse but doesn't draw out any coin yet. "A deal is a deal, but there is a bonus in it for you if you tell me the password to that there door." He raises a long finger to point at the metal door.

Cast Detect Magic again. KN: Arcana: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20 Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Quick speaks a phrase in the scaly tongue and his eyes go icy blue once more.

He turns to the hawker, "Why don't you tell me what your friends are hiding and I'll pay the full 20."

Quick's mind spins as he wrestles with what to do. In the end, he simply folds his arms and scoffs. "I hate this city."

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20

How incredibly lucky...

Quick shrugs. "I could be mistaken, but we both know I am not. We both know I can easily find out: either you tell me or I look." Quick raises a questioning eyebrow at the butcher for a moment before swinging the full strength of his gaze of the laborer. "We all know that making trouble for one such as myself can go very, very badly."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Quick lets the silence blossom for just longer than is comfortable, then chuckles amiably: the canny observer sees that the mirth does not touch his eyes which remain annoyed and belligerent. "Thankfully, we all want to keep things friendly, eh cousin?"

Quick drops the spell and adopts a pitying look. "I'm sorry the gods did not bless you with as many senses as I command. Do you require others to have your permission before breathing? Smelling? No? I did not think so. I did catch a glint of magic about you all. Please tell me what it is, and I will refrain from using my abilities further."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Quick is desperately trying not to appear sulky as Henry falls in behind Vylyra ahead of him.

Deciding to be useful, the young mage sweeps the men and their belongings for the arcane.

Detect Magic

Quick, eyes wide as Henry accepts his bravado as part of the plan, nods once and attempts a serious, ready-for-action face.

"Or I could incapacitate them..." Quick offers: bravado, rather than magic, dripping from his tongue and fingers.

Quick freezes, clearly unsure what to do and fearing the worst. The air around the mage grows tangibly thicker: like his fear. Panicked eyes find Henry's, pleading.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

"Stay focused. No small talk. Just find the statue."

Quicks eyes swivel around, ignoring passersby, until the woman throws herself at Vylyra. "Here now!" Quick grabs the woman and pulls her off Vylyra. "If you have business with us, stand and speak it, else move along."

"Henry, I meant steal an invitation. I can't just go around revealing who and what I am. He'll find me before my time. I must have care."

Quick shudders, looking uncomfortable. "Aren't we supposed to do something about the drow tonight? Maybe we should get through that, then worry about the wizard's party."

Quick blinks. "I do not. Can't..." He leans in whispering. "Can't you just steal one? You're a mercenary..."

Gather Info: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Quick listens to the talk in the streets and pricks up his ears at anything useful. When he hears mention of the ball, he rushes from the bar back to Henry and the others, whispering excitedly.

"There's a way to see the wizard! We just need to get an invitation. Can we do that and handle the drow?"

Quick looks around exasperated, when he is sure no one heard the big man, the young half-orc punches him ineffectually in the hard muscle of his chest. "Idiot! No one can know what I am capable of. You think I have troubles now..." He continues, less angrily. "I need the sword to defend myself. Please, I've dealt with enough chiding for today."

Quick almost manages to keep the scowl from his face at the mention of his being restricted from carrying weapons. Even so, he does not comment until well away from the knights.

"Ajaxx, would you carry my falchion and get it to me if we end up in a pinch?"

"I do not display my Holy Symbol. I serve Apsu, Maker of All. Without the Waybringer, the other gods would not exist." Quick says matter of factly, then blushes and adds. "Not meaning any offense mind. The Dawnflower is a worthy mistress and no mistake. I only meant that even she has her being from elsewhere."

THe young Orc shakes his head as if to clear it and moves on. "You make a fair point about the rewards that I had not considered. I accept your wisdom in this. And no, my lady is not harmless, nor are these two men. But we are all good people and I am sure they will join me in saying that we mean no harm to any true citizen of Thalenial."

"And we are sorry to hear about the King's plight. If I cannot see the Wizard until the Prince returns, then I, at least with Ajaxx, will find him and bring him home."

"I will try at the gates first, even so. I must needs speak with Dacius and a matter most relevant to the safety of the Kingdom."

"Now, if we have satisfied you for the time being, may we go about our business, and can you recommend a place to stay if our plans fall through?"

"Exactly!" says Quick enthusiastically. "It was all for expedience sake. I didn't even want to do it, but they convinced me and, as Henry said, it did work."

He continues, more sheepishly, "The bag of heads was unfortunate, but we DID do the realm a service in removing those bandits and, since we were coming here anyway, we thought we should bring them as proof. I actually hoped for a boon or three?" He cocks a hopeful eyebrow at the knight and shrugs when met with a stony stare. "Anyway, our intentions are good and, as you yourself said, we're harmless. I need to see the court wizard on a matter of some import regarding dragons. I'm actually a priest...kind of...thing..."

Quick looks at Henry with a "Fix it! I'm rambling!" look

"I don't think I'm any more suspicious than my friends, but if I must, I will come with you. May I ask that my friends accompany me? I would feel a deal safer for it. I am no raider and we will gladly give back any coin that affirms I am."

As the irons snap shut, Quick's wits finally kick into gear. maybe. lol.

"No! You can't take me! I have to see the court wizard! I'm not part of any invasion!"

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

"What about our boons?" Quick thinks as the group slides past the wagon with the bag of heads.

When the guard insists on taking the missive Quick speaks in Orcish at Henry. "Moenie toelaat dat hy dit neem nie. Ons moet dit lewer of vergeet word en alle hefboom verloor. As hy vra, het ek gevra vir kos en aal"

"Hey! I need my boons!" - Quick: Probably

Quick lays still and quiet.

Shocking wisdom from our resident teenager.

This could turn out badly, so, as a player, I apologize to my fellow players, especially Henry who will understand Quick. This is the right move for Quick and could be good for the story though, so here goes!

Sense Motvie: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (17) + 0 = 17

Quick, desperate to have someone in the city know he isn't a dangerous criminal shouts at the man again in Orcish.

"Ons is nie almal moorddadige barbare nie! Ek is nie eens waarlik 'n gevangene nie! Ek gaan met jou koning en sy raadslede ontmoet om hom te adviseer oor hoe om die geveg tussen Orke en Mans te stop. Dink goed aan my!"

Quick lets the tomato crash into his side. Slowly he raises his head, staring his most murderous glare into the crowd. Then he shouts in Orcish, knowing this crowd wouldn't likely understand: growling out the words to make them sound all the more fierce.

"Jy het my heeltemal verkeerd! Ek wil jou net red!"

Intimidate: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

Henry said to be what they expect.

Quick does his best to look like a trophy to feel proud of rather than an enemy to participate in berating.

Bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

But mostly he just looks sullen and depressed, his eyes sweeping faces and ears wide open.

KN:Local: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Quick looks as if he might be sick, but says nothing.

After a moment, Quick stands with an adjusting shake of his leg. He claps his hands together and walks up to Henry. "I done it sir. I'm the one you want. Take me away!" He stands, waiting for his hands to be bound. This is not how the stories go...

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Quick stares dumbly before abruptly turning away and squatting down, face reddening, and pretending to find something in his backpack.

Quick looks to the others with a plea in his eyes. Are we just doing this?

I'm fine with it, just watching Quick come to terms with his role. :)

Quick blanches, looking hurt. "You want to make me look guilty?" Some of his careless belligerence returns. "Besides, you can't. If my hands are bound, I can't summon my powers." He crosses his arms over his chest as if to say "that's final". The gesture looks suspiciously like a pout...

"Breaded cheese..?" Quick says disgusted. It's unclear whether or not he took anything else away from the conversation.

Quick bristles. "We're on official business. My presence won't hold us back." He says obviously doubting his own words.

Thanks for the tip! All updated.

Vylyra upgraded Constitution.

Quick sighs at the racism comment, then furrows his brows. "Wait. Should we present ourselves as we are? We do have the paper from Redstone. We can get paid then change later. Why get our schemes mixed up?"

Yes :)

That Drow poison woked up my spell blood and gave it ta me.

Ok. All leveled. 6 hit points and an extra skill point. Strength is now a 16!

New Spells: Open/Close and Acid Arrow!

Quick stays between Vylyra and the mill as she retreats, but bellows at them, "Stay your shafts and treat with me. We will find an equitable solution or, by Apsu's wings, I'll kill you both!"

Intimidate: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

Quick positions himself between Vylyra and the tower, raising his blade wardingly before him. "Get to Ajaxx. We'll regroup"

Full Defense.

perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Seeing the "orc" in the tower door draw a bow, Quick shouts. "Vylyra! Down!"

Quick draws his greataxe and notices he's already running toward her.

Quick grabs his falchion and stands up.

Fort: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Quick's eyes snap open as he realizes liquid is trickling down his throat. They slam shut as he sputters and coughs. Then he notices the vines.

1d1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

Not again!? LOL!

Fort: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Satisfied Quick will be fine!?

You saw him get whacked, go down, try to rise, then go still.

He'll be fine!?

He loves Vylyra and this is how you treat him? Betrayal!?

...i may be too into this character's head...

Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

Quick gasps in pain and surprise. I cannot die here. It is not my destiny.

Suddenly, the young half-Orc roars in fury and starts to rise, but his scream turns to coughing, then he lay still: eyes closed.