Um. Is this still going?
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"The Dire Werebadger" is a pretty good name for a ship, haha.
"As many as can see it. It will eventually break if tested, but it could give us a small bit of time where they're looking where we want them to."
"You're a man after my own heart, Jarret. While I don't believe 'drying up' would be my particular concern, I don't intend to ever meet my end in a cell, either." Roland turns to Grutsnick, a calculating look drifting across his face. "The element of surprise is going to be what determines a fighting chance or failure on our end of this raid. The best way to ensure that surprise is the magic we have out our disposal. In additon to Lorelei and Uraisa's aforementioned fog, I have some talent in illusions. Lest they be particularly sharp-witted, I can make men see and hear figments of my choosing. For a time, at least."
Roland gives the Captain an affirmative nod. Well, the Captain certainly has warmed to the idea of having his own private little group of commandos in us more exceptional members of his crew. He's a sharper man than he carries himself, even if his planning is a bit broad strokes for my taste. I'll have to discuss strategy for our end of things with Grutsnick after this in order to increase the likelihood we'll survive this.
His face serious, but his eyes laughing, Roland adds: "Grutsnick, my good man, I believe it was *both*."
In regards to current events in-game: Way harsh, Captain. I'm kind of dying to see Lorelei's reaction to this. (The Captain better start sleeping with one eye open).
"Jarret makes a strong point, Captain. We would be remiss to not take advantage of his natural gifts. At the very least we could send him ahead to scout before our strike, see if these Chelish dogs have any unexpected surprises or fiendish beasties we would do well to be aware of."
I'm in California, but I have completely atrocious sleeping habits and a smartphone, so I'll probably be all over the place post-wise.
Roland directs a mischeivious grin towards Lorelei. "My Lady, we wouldn't want them to enjoy themselves."
Roland's eyes light up. "So close to The Eye. Captain, you *are* feeling daring lately. Fifty men shouldn't be a problem, and such a small detatchment indicates they're being pompous asses and don't really expect anyone to attack. No one else is jumping on this?"
Roland lazily pockets his silver piece. "In my experience there's no such thing as unwanted attention. If you have someone's attention, you have power over them." Roland adjusts his collar and briefly fusses with his hair. "Is that everyone, then? Should we go see what it is the Captain needs us for?"
As he's still learning many of the more practical elements of sailing, Roland's primary duties involve morale. He was singing one of his favorite shantys to keep the men at pace, and was somewhat disappointed to be interrupted by a summons. He'd modified the last two verses (they'd been lazily written, classic or not) and was hoping to gauge any approval. Duty calls. He muttered with a resigned sigh. He waits for the others by the door to the captains cabin, leaning nonchalantly to the side, using his Mage Hand spell to manipulate a silver piece like a yo-yo.
With a genuine smile:Grutsnick, you are living proof that a surly demeanor need not preclude proper treatment of a lady. Roland finishes his drink ande makes a forlorn expression. Were the drink here worth the coppers I'm spending on it, I might be inclined to make more of a night of this. As it stands, I'd prefer a good night of sleep to the seawater they're serving here. Perhaps we should all be off, then? Roland procures a small pouch from one of his pockets, and discretely offers it to Lorelei. He whispers: This may take some of the bite out of your morning. Just mix it with some clean water if you find tonight's rum rewards you with a headache tomorrow.
Now that's the sort of fight to get excited about. The ringing of blades, the shouts of men seizing the day, the sea roiling with fury while Besmara's fickle fortune lands where it may. Roland laughs at his own over-romanticization, leans back in his chair, and stretches. Glorious
Roland chuckles good naturedly. I'm afraid it is a part of The Life my dear, as much as Jolly Rogers and tying knots, even if it is little more than a whole lot of sound and fury signifying nothing. He gave Uraisa a respectful, assesing look. He had caught on to the fact that his (and many others') first impression of her was far off the mark. Scatterbrained, unfocused, and naive she may seem, she was likely the only person on the ship smarter than he was. Not the kind of person he was used to being around, but exactly the kind of person he watned around in this line of work where every day was an exercise in how one might die in a number of interesting and undignified ways.
Oh, believe me, my lady, I do not fear the Chelish. In fact I relish the opportunity to remind those stuff-shirts who owns the seas. I was simply acknowledging the potential strength of our target. Risks make a man great; failure to understand those risks make a man dead.
Hey! Still alive, sorry about the delay. I posted over in the RP forum, shame I missed the bar-fight. Anyways, I've got all of Roland's character info up aside from a detailed background. He is a really ambitious fellow, so I feel I should speak with you, Jormungandr, about what it's actually realistic for him to accomplish within the game. Happy to be playing, everyone! Now that I've got my sheet up, I should be able to post at least once a day, likely more.
Roland Red-Hand felt little need to participate in the sudden brawl started by his captain and remained in his seat, enjoying his ale. He had to duck or lean a few times in order to avoid the occaisional object or patron being hurled through the air and hadn't been above discretely extending his foot in the path of a lumbering member of the opposing crew, but he preferred combat when it allowed him to look heroic. These sorts of brawls provided opportunity for little more than a bloodied nose. Boring, indeed. I have to say I'm surprised the captain has his sights set on a Chelish vessel. I must admit an increasing respect for the man if he is willing to risk the ire of devil worshippers in exchange for a tidy profit. That's the way a pirate makes a name for himself. Fortune favors the bold.
The Drunken Junebug. They'll die laughing if our crossbows don't get them first. I like it. Hey everyone! I am rather enamored with "The Drunken Junebug" as well. Also, I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth, the weekend just threw some unexepected Real Life Stuff my way. Roland's full stats and some background/what he's been up to will be up tomorrow night.
Being the sort of pirate that prefers smirking irony in the face of misfortune, I'd suggest The Downward Spiral.
Hey, Jormungandr, this is Orannis. I made an Alias for Roland, and had his ENTIRE sheet typed up on it and it just... vanished... when I posted it. We're talking like an hour of work here, and I just cannot bring myself to the tedious task of doing that again today. Would you mind if I re-did it all tomorrow (I'm going to copy-paste to Word this time, now that I know better)? I am just waaaaaay too steamed to do it again today. |