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Hey all, sorry for the absence. My available forum time took a sudden drop (change in work and living situation) and the only thing I've been able to really get on and do is check up and try to keep games I'm GMing on life support for the time being. Unfortunately I think it would be better for everyone if I were to drop out of this game. I haven't really been able to meet the level of commitment that everyone else has from the get-go and I don't want to hold the group back.
Dropping her shield and taking an executioner's stance with her halberd, Randgríðr attacks the elemental at Trawet's signal. Attack:
Coup de grace (if applicable):
Seeing that Jujo is trying to reason with the creature, Randgríðr will stand next to him with her halberd at the ready in case negotiations go south. Readied attack:
"I can go ahead and try to pull them out, if you like," Randgríðr says, moving towards the assumed corpse with trepidation. If her companions agree to her doing so, she will move forward and try to dislodge the body from its snowy prison.
"If you'd like, we can light the lantern I keep on me," Randgríðr says with trepidation at the obviously magical snowman. "Though I don't think a contained flame is going to help us very much with melting this thing."
"Just in case there's any danger, I can go check it out," Randgríðr says, looking for some sort of affirmation that it shouldn't kill her outright. "Even if it is just there to scare us, maybe we can glean something important from how it says it?"
"I've got to agree," Randgríðr says, making sure she's ready for combat with halberd and shield in hand. "We can't take anything for granted out here, as we've definitely already learned." With that said, she makes an active effort to search for potential threats.
Randgríðr draws her halberd and raises her shield. She examine the area around the group, hoping to find the source of the arrows.
"Even if they're just toying with us, this is gravely serious," she says, looking over to Trawets with concern. After realizing that she is useless to Trawets right now, so she turns her gaze to Revekka. "I'll admit, your presence here seems far too serendipitous to be real, but we're going to need your knowledge. I don't know anything about magic, but is there anything you can do to assess Trawets condition before we move on?"
"While my devotion lies with Erastil," Randgríðr begins while looking for tracks. "My knowledge of religion and cults is little to none. Not to be rude, but Revekka and Trawets here seem much more inclined to know that sort of thing."
I think in either case I would be #1 in the marching order given my defenses.
Randgríðr hefts her halberd over her shoulder and gives Revekka a reassuring smile. "I've seen many braggarts around here make claims that they can't back up," she says confidently, looking at the multitude of dead birds and doing her best to not let her concern taint her tone. "I can't imagine the bandits we're after will be all that much different."
While continuing to move along with the others, Randgríðr will be looking out to see if there are any tracks she can spot.
Stirring awake, Randgríðr sits up and looks around. "I'm not dead," she says lightly, taking a look at each of her companions in turn. "Sorry to have been so careless. You have my eternal gratitude for keeping me alive." Feeling around herself and realizing that her wounds had already closed, she looks around once again in shock, settling on Revekka. As she hears her companions discuss matters of witchcraft, she gets up on unsteady legs. Witchcraft? I've never met a witch, but the stories... Shaking her head at her own rudeness, she turns to Revekka and gives a deep bow. "Thank you, Revekka," she says, her face flush with embarrassment. "I assume you were the one to heal me. Thank you for that. My name is Randgríðr. Usually I'm better at keeping myself up and in a fight, I promise."
Alright, I should for real be all set this time. Apologies for the absence, just a lot has been going on in these past few weeks that I did not foresee taking as much time as they did. Thank you so much for being patient, and welcome Revekka!
Moving out of the way at Otta's suggestion, Randgríðr examines the corpse after it hits the ground. "Need any help getting down?" she calls up to her companion. "I can try to set up camp if you'd like to rest, Jujo. Can't do much on the fixing you up front I'm afraid. When Otta gets down here he can help me set up." With that, she looks down at the corpse with greater scrutiny.
For setting up camp:
Concerned with Jujo's current physical state but unable to think of anything that she could do to help him, Randgríðr stands at the bottom of the tree that Ottast is climbing just in case any more terrifying beasts come to attack the group. "Here's to hoping they can't," she says in a low tone. "We may have bit off a bit more than we can chew. I'd say we need to be careful but thus far I don't know that any extra care would have kept us out of harm's way."
"If folk are getting tired rest may be a good idea," Randgríðr says, taking a moment to consider her own condition. "I'm used to long days of keeping watch, so I can keep on eye out if you want to take a break. That chest looks like it may harbor some more information about the people who were coming here."
Just as a heads up I'll be at PAX Unplugged this weekend so I won't be able to post from Friday 12/6 to Sunday 12/8.
"Some rest would certainly do us some good while we wait," Randgríðr says, furtively glancing at Calie's wounds. Seeing Trawets pass the woman a potion seems to calm her just a bit, but her nature can't help but get the better of her. "I wish I were any good at patching up wounds, but unfortunately it is a skill I never took enough time to learn. " A necromancer out here? Near Heldren? Why would someone so terrible be out in a place like this?
Randgríðr will close whatever gap there may be between her and the growling man. Seeing that he is attacking Calie and considering the temperament of the last fellow, she takes a powerful swing at the man hoping to stop him dead in his tracks.
"Careful, Calie! He's just as gone as the last one!"
Thanks for the well wishes, everyone! Everything has gone pretty good, I think. Just going to be spending the upcoming holiday unpacking, which as you all have stated, is the worst part (part 2).
I'll be moving this weekend, so apologies if I don't post anything until Monday. If I need to be botted I will be attacking nonlethally and one-handed unless the party is moving in the direction of killing our target.
"Stand down, we do not wish to kill you!" Randgríðr commands, swinging the butt of her halberd at the man Calie attacks in an attempt to subdue him. What sort of horror has this man seen to bite at another person like that? Dice Rolls:
Rangríðr, confident with Calie having her back, is going to use her shield-hand to remove the spear from the handles and try to open them. She takes note of Jujo's sickness, though she figures potential survivors are most important right now.
Giving a slight nod to the tall man, Randgríðr slowly approaches the overturned wagon to investigate the source of whatever sound Trawets heard.
As the group approaches the massacre site, Randgríðr goes pale. She has seen dead before, even dead who she had killed herself, but this was something else entirely. "Old Deadeye watch over us," she mutters, trying to appraise the situation around her.
As Trawets points to the wagon, Randgríðr nods. Drawing her halberd and shield she approaches, standing right next to the wizard. "Is it magic?" she whispers, wary of the possibility.
"Thank you, councilwoman," Randgríðr says, punctuating it with another bow. "I've already got a set for patrolling, so I'll make sure to take a bundle back to Vivialla." She takes one of the bundles and puts it with her father's cold-weather outfit, another set she'll make sure to return before leaving. "Once I've gone and done that I should be all set, I think. Not a whole lot of spare coins for potions and such, unfortunately."
Randgríðr doesn't do much after getting home, lost in thought about everything going on around the village. After checking up on her parents (both fast asleep) she takes some time to write in her journal by candlelight before getting some sleep herself.
Rising early and telling her family about the plans that were made the night before, Randgríðr gets herself ready to head to the inn. She makes sure to pack some of her father's old cold-weather clothing for Trawets as promised the night before. Donned in her hide armor and with clothing well suited to the cold underneath, Randgríðr makes her approach to the inn with both shield and halberd on her back. When she gets there (and is directed to the private dining room as well), she immediately tenses up and gives a stiff bow to Councilwoman Tepen. Whether or not it was really all that appropriate in such a small village to such a lowly-ranked politician, to Randgríðr an elder is an elder. "Good morning, councilwoman," she says with practiced deference. "Always happy to see you involved with the peoples' needs. Thanks for meeting with us."
It's not that folks in town don't like her, persay, but the crowd leftover in the bar would be the part that typically doesn't. "I'll be sticking around here for a while," Randgríðr says, gesturing to those that remain. "I walk some of these fellows home a couple nights a week. I worry that if I don't they'll stumble out into the woods." For the time that she's been sitting here chatting with folks, Randgríðr hasn't drank all that much. Though not formally a priest or champion of Erastil, she holds Old Deadeye in high regard. "Once the bar clears out, I'll be staying at home for the night," she says to those gathered at the table. "I live in the village proper so it'll be easy for me to meet with all of you here in the morning. You should probably take the free lodgings, Ottast, given the trek it takes you to get here. Wouldn't want you to be the next to get drug off, you know?"
"Aye, that seems to be the right of it," Randgríðr responds to Calie. Turning to Ottast is particular, she quotes part of the code of a champion of Erastil: "My community comes first, and I will contribute to it all that I can. If I don’t give something back, who will?" She places a firm hand on Ottast's shoulder and shares a confident smile. "We will find your daughter, friend. It is my duty to this community and your duty as her father. Nothing shall stand between that we cannot fell."
"Aye, Jujo, if we save Lady Argentea there will be stories to tell of all of us, surely," Randgríðr says, flashing a smile at Calie's kind words. "As for some warm clothing, I think that shouldn't be too hard. For you, Trawets, I can see if my father has anything you can borrow before we leave on the morrow. You'd likely be a similar size. If anyone else needs clothing better suited for the cold, the general store usually opens bright and early."
"Sorry 'bout that, Trawets. Can't say priest or wizard makes much difference to most folk around here," Randgríðr says, her face reddening even more. Here I go again, looking like a green farm boy... At Jujo's mention of writing a story about "two strong women", Randgríðr's complexion reaches critical heat, and she starts to look rather sheepish. When Ottast comes and touches her elbow, she can't help but jump a little. She turns to listen to what he says, and nods in approval. "You're just in luck, friend," she says, regaining her composure and gesturing to the rest of the group. "These folks want to investigate what's going as well. I may be a good sword arm, but you folk won't find a better tracker around these parts than Ottast."
Randgríðr can't help but chuckle a bit at Trawets statement, and she waves a hand to try and brush off any formalities. "I'd not worry about any superiors, we aren't quite that organized out here," she says. "I'd never say no to some help from one more magically inclined, though I can't say I've ever seen a priest of Nethys built quite like yourself. Nice to meet you, Trawets." Randgríðr's face breaks out in a fierce counter-blush as the paladin speaks. Formulating her words to the smaller woman, she tries her best not to get too lost in the paladin's golden eyes. "Ah, nothing special about my name, lady Choros. You call just call me Grida, that's what my uh... father calls me. If you two could use an extra sword arm and a guide, I'd be more than happy to oblige." "Never trust a fool", old Deadeye says, and here I've gone making one of myself! A real knight in shining armor, here in my village, and the first thing I do is tell a stupid fib. Pa has never called me Grida before, nine hells...
Going to the Silver Stoat is a part of Randgríðr's nightly routine that she considers to be of paramount importance. It is the job of the militia to protect Heldren from threats from the outside, primarily, and any outsiders looking to do harm would be likely to stay here. Entering the bar, she takes a look at what sort of patrons are here tonight. Looks like Ottast is in town, that's a rarity. Three new folks at one table... Though some of them had been in town a few days, Randgríðr has been too busy with her sick father for the past week. The unnatural cold had taken its toll on the man, who against the words of warning from his wife and daughter continued to ignore the ill-effects of his advancing age. Her father was getting a bit better and had told her she should get back to her routine—the town needed her more than he did with all the odd happenings going on, he said. Randgríðr approaches the table with the new people, deciding that she'll check up on Ottast later. She does her best to not loom over them, though given her stature that's nearly impossible. "Hello there," she says in her low, unintentionally gruff rural Taldane. "I'm Randgríðr, part of the town militia. I like to get to know any new folks or passer-by." Seeing the Shelynite's songbird-emblazoned equipment, she dons a forced-looking grin. Normally other faithful folk would cheer her up, but with everything happening in town she couldn't help but feel like the world was closing in on her.
í = ALT + 0237
Pronunciation is Rahnd-grii-duhr (I am not a linguist I'm so sorry) I'll see if I can find a sound clip for you when I'm not on mobile. Also just copying and pasting my name works, but if you want Randgrid / Randgridr is fine. Might add a last name later. It's a reference to a valkyrie and the name basically means "shield-breaker".
Hello! Thank you so much for the selection into this game! I'm a Michigander, so my postings are typically between 6am-6pm EST/EDT and I either post once or post in whatever space I can fill. On weekends I try to check the forums at least twice, though my posts may be a little shorter. I'm a selenium automation person where I work, so I mostly post while I'm at work and waiting for my tests to run. For marching order I think that will generally depend. As it stands I'd probably rather be 1 for single-file because of my AC focus and I don't use a reach weapon. For double I'll second that Calie and I will be side-by-side 1&2. As for gear, I'm down to dimes and pennies here so I think I'll stop myself from buying too much more. The extra gold for gear was fun to spend, and starting at max helped me get a shield that wouldn't tank my attack bonus.
Alright, should be all set! The extra 50gp for mundane supplies was extra fun.
Hello! Here is a partial submission for Arrannai. Randgríðr (Randgrid works as well) will be a half-elven fighter (viking) with the blood of giants campaign trait. I'll post an update here when she is done! |
