Shekla stood back and let Salaha do the negotiating, once she was free of the biting vine. She was less inclined to trust the offered ladder after the attack, but only gave a gruff snort before making her ascent into Ulizmila's home.
The corpse in the chair was a bad omen on finding Ulizmila alive, however. Shekla listened to the amulet -- something in her blood told her she was 'daughter of darkness' it mentioned. Though champion of light didn't seem like a good match.
Shekla shrugged, and knelt down by the corpse. She didn't take the amulet, but she angled it up towards her face to look it in the eyes. "Okay. Proper disposal sounds fair. Necklace? How would Ulizmila want to be disposed of? Burial, pyre? Any special religion words?"
Shekla growled at the tree. It was not her finest moment. Her Uriak blood boiled, she instinctively pressed her thumbs together and spread her fingers reader blast sheets of flame at the foul tree! But it was Ulizmila's tree -- destroying the thing, with fire in particular, probably wouldn't improve their odds of the witch helping them...
"Stupid...tree!" She cursed, and instead tried to pry the the fly trap off of her.
Shekla snorted and shooed away a bug while waiting for a response to Dáin's call. "Thank you for trying, it was a good effort." She said, and slinked about five feet closer before lending her own voice to one-sided 'discussion'.
"Ulizmila! I am Shekla Stygg of Dunwich, my companions and I beseech you! Yes, even though the Grippli told us you have been missing for several seasons! We call out, just in case you might be back, and maybe sleeping, because we don't want to startle you! Ok? Awake now? Or at least still missing? Here we come!"
Shekla took a few stubborn steps closer to the building, and waved for the others to follow. She tried to stick to whatever might have looked like a path; and if there wasn't one, she chose a route that gave the tree a wide berth.
With Salaha in the water, Shekla stayed at the front of the procession on land. She might not have been the toughest, but she wasn't jittery and was comfortable enough in the swamp and the fog. She remained mindful of Dáin, and kept a steady enough pace with her hand outstretched for him to grab.
Shekla waited patiently for Salaha's return, pondering what she might know about the nearby flora and the arcane energy surrounding this place. Once the guide returned she simply nodded her acceptance, but her attention was caught by the Grippli seeking a translation. Shekla pointed to Salaha and introduced her by name as she spoke.
Saurian:
"She, Salaha, said do not touch vines and do not be hostile. Ulizmila does not know we are coming and Salaha is worried the witch will think we are hostile."
Rolls:
Shekla is using one charge from her wand of mage armor, raising her AC and flat footed by +4 to AC 17, FF 14. Duration 1 hour.
Rolling know: Arcana, nature, and geography. Also sending Perception to keep an eye out as we go, survival to note anything important, and profession soldier in case anything that entails might help.
Shekla frowned. "I'm not gonna threaten them for you. They're just afraid of getting eaten! But, thank you for sending both the Crocs away. Just... please try to be nice to the Grippli. To them, they are taking a huge risk trusting us at all."
She turned her attention back to the swamp.
Saurian:
"The crokdials minder is sending them away. Thank you for helping to guide us."
Shekla blinked twice at Salaha's response and stared blankly for a few moments. "Huh..?" She shook her head, missing a few things... She glanced to Dáin and Will in turn, first. "Any markings wouldn't be meant for us, but for other swamp dwellers. An thank you, William. But could you ask Hieroneous to help Vilma, maybe?"
Shekla returned her attention to Salaha. "Ok. The Grippli are willing to guide us through the dangerous swamp, close to the dangerous home that can defend itself. They know more about Ulizmila than we do, and we need to find her. That's why we are here. They didn't ask for food or shiny things or anything else, just send away the animals that might eat them. And when we find Ulizmila, they get their witch friend back, and we might find a cure. Okay?"
Shekla had a sour expression. She looked at Salaha first. "They won't help unless you send the croc away. And there's a second one stalking us -- they think it is also ours. Can you get rid of it?" Shekla asked their guide.
To avoid upsetting the Grippli, she kept them up to speed.
Saurian:
"Our war beasts are crokdials. I have told the keeper to send them away."
"The crocodile is pulling our boat. Work not war. I not know what other war beast you mean... But thank you. Any help you give will let us find Ulizmila faster."
While awaiting the response, Shekla felt safe enough to spare a moment to explain to the others. "The swamp witch, Ulizmila, the one we're seeing... She's been missing for many seasons. The Grippli are afraid of our 'war beasts' but I told them the croc was working. They're willing to help us get close to Ulizmila's home and avoid dangers, but not all the way -- they said her home protects itself."
Shekla shrugged, and looked to Salaha. "They said they would only help if we send the war beasts away. I made my case that your croc was for work, but until they respond..." She shrugged again.
Shekla snorted at William. Her shoulders slumped, and her tone felt deflated. Whatever vitriol she felt a moment earlier was gone, now. "Calm down... They are frogs, and they are the size of children." She held her palm about two feet above the the deck for emphasis. "Someone help Vilma. I'll do the talking..."
Shekla switched to Saurian to deal with them; though she clearly mentioned Ulizmila by name.
Saurian:
"Yes, we visit the witch Ulizmila. We not know why she angry, not know she was missing. We need to find her... We were hoping she was still here. Shekla and crew will find Ulizmila."
Shekla growled at the response -- and seeing Vilma go down. She practically roared back in Saurian, with full fluency.
Saurian:
"We travel through, not attack! You attacked us! Now you run, let us pass, and we leave you be. Attack again and face fury of Shekla, sorceress of the Dripping Blades, chosen of Luthic!"
As she finished, Shekla drew attention to the brand on her cheek.
Shekla grunted, and nodded to Dáin. "Good instincts." She said, by way of appreciation, and maneuvered to the side of the boat nearest the volley, staying low. "Sounds like Grippli. Frog people. I don't know their tongue, doubt they know Keolan. You can try waving your hands about and hope they understand -- they use gestures to trade. For metals and gems."
She shrugged and glanced at the food barrels. "They like fruit too. Or I can see if they might know orc, saurian, or hin, but I doubt it." Shekla shrugged again and waited to see what the others were thinking.
Shekla half stood and glared into the fog after the darts peppered her friends. She searched the fog not with eyes alone, but listened for familiar and unfamiliar sounds while she thought through what sorts of things they might have been...
Shekla hadn't made the trek as many times as Eritha, but she kept pace without any issues. She quirked an eyebrow on meeting Salaha; Travoril already introduced her by name and vocation to the newcomer. Moreover, he had pointed out that Lars wasn't in sight anymore. "Lars? Lars!" Shekla groaned and went to round him up and get him into the boat.
I know he's on follow mode. Shekla will get him and they'll both board the boat.
Shekla nodded, she understood not wanting to bother others, but still wished he had reported it. "Not everyone can help with that. Next time report it, those thugs might bother someone else that can't defend themselves. I'll tell Eritha what happened. Take care of yourself, ok?"
After leaving, Shekla fetched her camping gear from home and made her way to Eritha's to report in and rest for the night. Tomorrow would be the start of an important job -- she wanted to be up early and well rested.
-----------
Shekla was dressed and ready when she joined the others, gnawing on a dried travel sausage for breakfast. "Waders?" she asked, mid-chew, while they were talking about swamp boots. "Fishing waders. Those should work, hmm? Oh. Good morning. No luck finding Baskerwhel, he already went back home. I told Eritha last night, but some thugs attacked him and Areland..." Shekla practically growled in disgust. Eritha would have to have someone else look into it, though.
Yeah, sorry if we're bogging things down in the present timeline. Areland's comment felt like something Shekla would definitely want to help with. I'll hold off posting in the present for now though, since she'll want to tell Eritha everything she learns about the ruffians, and hopefully Areland tells her a little more. :P
Shekla frowned, hearing that Areland had been shaken down by ruffians. She might have only been unofficially nighwatch, but Dunwich was her home and locals didn't do these things to each other. "Who were they? Travelers? Do you know where they are now? If nothing else, Eritha should know."
Unfun fact: forgetting to ever roll sense motive is consistent problem with everyone in my tabletop group. :'( I'll try to keep up here.
Shekla looked Areland up over and noted his appearance; not really listening to much after he said Baskerwhel had left. She nodded slightly and shrugged to Lars. "We leave tomorrow morning. We'll make do without him." Shekla paused, and gestured vaguely to his scuffed clothes and bruises. "You okay? Someone hurt you, Areland?"
Shekla offered Lars a side smirk when he caught up to her, and playfully jabbed his stone arm. Once they reach Areland's she rapped twice on the door of the shop before entering. "Areland, you 'ere? It's Shekla and Lars..." She called out. She may not have been a frequent customer, but everyone knew everyone. "We gotta find Baskerwhel!"
Sorry boss, I'm online every day and check in a few times. I just misunderstood a few things... The big one, I thought it was night and the rest of us were waiting for morning. :'(
Shekla drained another glass of wine and set the glass down. This time she waved away the servant that came to refill it. Arrangements were made for her to spend the night at Eritha's, but she would need to gather her travel gear for the journey. She had slept in far worse conditions than the marsh, and she had a spell that let her sit up and keep watch all night, but it was better to plan for the worst and hope for the best.
"I'll be back by dark. Gotta get stuff, maybe find Baskerwhel. Lars, you coming?" Shekla hoped so. She had no idea where Baskerwhel even lived...
Shekla smirked a little, as Eritha likely knew her answer already. "I'll stay here tonight, help get things ready." She probably wouldn't have been that much help on the trip, and had no right or reason to be loitering around anyone's keep, anyway. And there was a much higher chance of getting another glass of Ardent Red if she stayed behind, too...
Shekla shrugged. "I can walk. Don't have a horse." She said. Shekla didn't have any training either, but was probably steady enough to stay in a saddle if nothing exciting happened. Not that it mattered -- she doubted her pocket was heavy enough to rent one, anyway.
Shekla had little to add, but did rest what she meant to be a comforting hand on Laurel's shoulder. "It's okay... I don't feel very helpful right now, either." Shekla whispered. She genuinely meant no offense, but had a gift for phrasing things wrong sometimes...
Shekla drained her glass while others talked, but thought twice before asking for more drink. As the conversation brought up the question of whether Ulizmila was even alive anymore, Shekla couldn't hide a devious little grin. "Does Heironeous let any of you talk to the dead?" She blurted out. She probably should have thought twice about that one, too... Shekla had been raised by orcs, of course -- and remember shamans like her mother had such abilities. She also guessed that polite society might find such magic insulting.
Shekla wasn't large or imposing, but she had a presence and appearance that might have unnerved some. If not for the giant sword on her back, then likely for the scars, piercings, tattoos, and even an orcish rune branded on her cheek. She wore black pants and a loose blouse that had been white once, but slightly yellowed with age and wear. She wore a few belts, including one with several potions.
Typically Shekla backed up her appearance with a permanently unimpressed scowl. Tonight, though, it took considerable effort to suppress a proud smile. Dunwich had shown her acceptance, yes, and she had served as night watch and part time laborer to earn her keep. But Eritha had been the only leader she had known to be fair and kind; to ask instead of force; to support and encourage rather than beat and brand. Shekla respected Eritha, and her leader had trusted her as a representative on this job.
Given the subject at hand, the smile might have been more unnerving, really. But those who knew her would understand. Lars, certainly -- he had opened his home to her. If anyone understood her, it was Lars. Vilma? Despite humping into each other several times, she still didn't have a read on the other woman...
Shekla took a long swill of the wine. She had never taken a dainty sip of anything in her life. Normally she hated wine too, but Eritha's stuff was always a little more than fancy grape juice. She listened to Laurel but the reagents weren't in her wheelhouse. She could have thought up questions to ask, but wasn't going to embarrass Eritha this soon by asking things everyone else already knew...
So how would Shekla feel if she were approached by someone imparting this information unto her. Would she care to hear more of what they had to say, or blow them off?
First she would probably assume the person was trying to take advantage of her ignorance about these sorts of things. So she would ask Lars, and once she found out it was true she would try to find the person to hear them out.
And Vilma, I don't know if Shekla is officially tied to the keep. She isn't strong and can't wear armor, she'd probably flunk out if she tried to join anything official. But Dunwich is her home, and she's out there every night watching the fog...
As long as Vilma has been nice to Shekla, they could be friends. Of course Shekla doesn't mind staring into the fog all night and casts spells better than she swings swords... So, don't know what kind of an impression Shekla leaves when we first meet. :P
Okay, I think my equipment should be all set now. I'm still a little unclear on how much the masterwork backpack should weigh, but I listed it at 5 lbs. like the campaign info shows. No more muleback cords, I did spring for a wand (mage armor). I handled her little weight problem by keeping most of her travel gear at home...no need to live like a hobo from day to day. :P
Ok, I think I have all of that transcribed onto to my sheet for the most part. Still working on equipment, I have a fair bit more to spend to get Shekla down to 10gp. There are two permanent magic items I requested. The first (kinda) is an everburning torch. The second real magic item are Muleback Cords.
If the cords aren't allowed, I may have to trim down my equipment for weight purposes. :P
Yeah, volatile conduit wasn't very appealing at 1/day, but at Cha mod per day it's much better. I like the changes to the bloodline, as far as darkvision goes, unless you remove it from the bloodline arcana she already has it (and light sensitivity). The big part of the orc bloodline was the +1/die to spell damage.
Yeah, I was fiddling with my sheet and just lost an update when I tried to save it. :'(
I was planning on changing craft: carpentry to blacksmith, and profession fisher to merchant. She might be ok making nails or horseshoes, or selling things if they have a dedicated shop.
Also had a couple requests for permanent magic items. One is just an everburning torch for simplicity. The big one is Muleback Cords.
Still kind of rough, but the crunch is pretty much done except for equipment. Let me know if I'm going in a good direction with the character or not, thanks!
Shekla:
Female Uriak Sorcerer
NG Medium humanoid (orc, human)
Init +5; Senses low light vision, darkvision 60'; Perception +11
DEFENSE
AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+3 Dex)
hp (3d4+15)
Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +6
OFFENSE
Speed 30'
Melee +1; Ranged +4
STATISTICS
Str 10, Dex 16, Con 17, Int 14, Wis 15, Cha 17
Base Atk +1; CMB +1; CMD 14
Attributes: Str +2, Con +2
Size: Medium
Speed: 30ft
Senses: Low-Light Vision
Keen Senses: Gain a +2 Racial Bonus to Perception checks
Intimidating: Gain +2 Racial Bonus on Intimidation checks
Off-Putting: Receive a -2 Racial Penalty on Diplomacy checks
Orc Blood: They count as both Human and Orc for any effect related to race.
Weapon Familiarity: Gain proficiency with Bow (Short and Long), Great Axe, and Falchion. If already proficient with Martial Weapons due to their 1st-level class they gain the Feat Weapon Focus with one of these weapons. They treat any weapon with the word Orc in its name as a Martial Weapon.
Orc Ferocity: When the character damages a creature with their Melee Attack, they gain a +1 Morale Bonus on their next Attack roll until the end of their next turn.
Sacred Tattoo: Many half-orcs decorate themselves with tattoos, piercings, and ritual scarification, which they consider sacred markings. Half-orcs with this racial trait gain a +1 luck bonus on all saving throws. This racial trait replaces orc ferocity.
Bloodline Arcana: You gain the orc subtype, including darkvision 60 feet and light sensitivity. Whenever you cast a spell that deals damage, that spell deals +1 point of damage per die rolled.
Level 1 power swapped for Bloodline Mutation, Blood Havok. +1/die of damage for bloodline spells and evocation spells (currently).
Fearless (Ex): At 3rd level, you gain a +4 bonus on saving throws made against fear and a +1 natural armor bonus.
Background:
Shekla rarely says much about her upbringing; most in Dunwich only remember the scrawny teenager that wandered into town seven years ago, malnourished, dressed in ragged furs, and practically dragging a crude falchion in the dirt. She spoke broken Keolan back then and had no real education to speak of, but was willing to do odd jobs for a bit of bread or a place to sleep. Shekla was tough and knew her orcish combat drills well, but was hardly a great combatant. Armor never quite fit her right, and always made her clumsy. She was barely strong enough to lift a heavy orcish blade, much less fight with it. She may have been uriak, but it seemed her blood was thin. Her orcish bloodline, however, had run quite deep.
Among her clan, an extension of the larger Dripping Blades tribe, Shekla had been the daughter of a shaman and a prized slave. Her birth offered her no privilege; only expectations. She was hardly fit for the life of a warrior but had attended the drills regularly, even if it only earned her spite, beatings, and failure. Shekla may have been weak and scrawny, but she was tough and took what she had to... Branded with the mark of Luthic by her own mother, Shekla might have earned herself a more comfortable life if she had resigned herself to a domestic role -- but her orc blood ran deep, and a powerful range had been buried inside her.
What Shekla lacked in physical might, she made up for in magical. The first time her blood surged she set sheets of flame spewing from her hands; none were killed, but a few of her clanmates were hurt. Some thought she was a curse, too dangerous to let live; others a blessing, a sign from gods themselves. Shekla didn’t wait around to find out what her kin would decide; she ran.
Now, Shekla lives in Dunwich, a regular fixture among the village. By night she keeps watch over the road and the village, and by day she sleeps, drinks, and does odd jobs here and there. She has done her time as a fisher, and even taken on a few bounties, caravan jobs, and other well-paying adventures. Hardly rich, Shekla lives modestly and most of the locals know what she’s capable of; nonetheless, she tries not to wield her magic around outsiders.
Appearance/Personality:
Shekla has gray-hued skin and dark eyes, with short tusks and stringy, black hair. Her skin is marked with tattoos and riddled with scars and piercings, with an orcish rune branded on her cheek -- “home,” to any who can read it, but also the holy symbol of the goddess Luthic for those educated in orc religion. She would be of average build for a human, perhaps even athletic; but for an Uriak, she is quite scrawny. Though she carries a falchion she wears no armor, favoring loose shirts and breeches, often adorned with her pack and potion belt. When she speaks, Shekla’s voice is typically a dry rasp.
Shekla might seem quiet and unassuming at first blush; but when her orc blood boils she develops a clear sense of presence that can catch people off-guard.
