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Thanks for the offer GM_Chris [and the appreciation Balodek] I'm in 2 pbp and about to start another this coming week, which is my limit, so honestly can't commit like I know the game deserves. Apologies - if my dance card still had a space I'd love to join the game. Good luck finding a replacement-replacement and I hope to game with guys sometime down the line. Regards
Sverrir shrugs his shoulders, and motions to the barkeep for some more rum Fate has decreed not today... time fer a drink or four!
Sverrïr's grin widens as Frasier and his wolf companion approach; "Heh. Here we gather... the "un"-common folk... Ye can leave the nobles tae their bun fight eh lads? But here... in this corner we know the grim realities o' life..."
Sverrïr regards the towering Finneas for a moment, as if sizing him up. "Aye - yer right Finneas. Amaku is a decent patron and I'm not drunk enough tae brawl with a bull o' a Kordite like yersel...yet!" The tattooed dwarf grins then reaches for an errant mug and drains it, ale soaking his braided beard. Tae hell with keepin a straight head...
Sverrir smiles grimly as the toasts ensue. Loss. Stone. Crafters. Nobles. Oh the irony mused the dwarf. The fates indeed are at hand tonight The dwarf raises his coffee mug in courtesy and addresses the tearful Dyrant: "Hoi friend Dryant. Ye weep for the loss of a god's favour and a forsaken life? Yet you still have life... weep for the dead... weep for the gods forsaking them in the deep dark... toast not loss, but the opportunity to redeem... to recompense... " As he speaks the tattoed dwarf grips the bartop ever harder, his knuckles whitening, the wood creaking...
GM_Chris: Chris I'm heading off for the weekend, not sure how often [if at all] I'll get to post before Monday, but just letting you know I'm still interested and not dropping off. Cheers Black Dow
Sverrir nods as he listens intently; Strange fish this one... but then...aren't we all? "Me? Ahhhh... the drink... We're old companions me an' the drink are... Its both my boon and my curse if you will. It helps me forget those which i failed yet I drink to honour their memory..." The dwarf looks downcast, even glassy eyed as he talks, then with a "Hummmph... damn rich tobaccos always get me eyes..." wipes at his face, sets his jaw and takes a gulp of his cooling coffee; "Thought it best to be sober for a change... should some opportunity come my way tonight... Anyway I say here's tae old wounds and fresh starts eh Hathin" He glances momentarily at a dreg filled tankard, before raising his coffee mug in toast.
Sverrir grins at Hathin's comment; "Ahhh. A former noble. The best kind o' noble if yer asks me... yet you probably still possess more honour than half o' the yahoos an rakes at this tea party..." the dwarf gruffly adds while balefully staring at his coffee mug. The warriors eyes narrow as the inn gets ever busier... all types o' drops being served here tonight... weak, frothy beers to sharp, strong rums... He smiles wryly... "So Hathin what brings your current self here? New start or old wounds?", Sverrir remarks trying to take the measure of this sombre human... before his attention broken slightly by the sight of a tall Amedian balancing himself on "Shaky Ground"; the oldest, rickety stool at the bar.
Question for GM:
Chris I've taken the Dream Haunted trait as it best fitted with Sverrir's trials in the Underdark. Notice that it negates any fatigue affects which could take away the fatigued condition post -Rage... You okay with that? If not I'm cool with picking another campaign trait for Sverrir. Sverrir knocks back the strong coffee that Akamu offers him. Shaking off the cobwebs he turns on his bar stool to survey the increasing throng...Busy night. Nobles out in force as usual... Or maybe just sober enough tonight to realise. Har. Straightening his blood red beard the young dwarf smiles wryly to himself, then catches the toast from a solemn looking noble also at the bar. Sverrir returns his toast with a raised coffee mug; "Your health sire..." and tae good fortune
Rough background:
Basic jist is a guard for Clan Arduun miners who was missing presumed dead after they were attacked by a fell aberration of the deep. Sverrir did survive and eventually made it back after long months in the Underdark. Haunted by dreams of the creature and his failings, the warrior turned to drink to help him sleep and forget. Each night he sets up 13 large shots of whatever liquor takes his fancy, 11 for the fellow berserkers he failed and one [with a mighty oath] for redemption and good fortune each... Of course he's always too drunk to make good his promises, but with each night his resistance to the spirits grows, so perhaps it is this night that fortune will favour Sverrir Kegbane... Seated at the bar a stocky young dwarf with hair the colour of blood finishes his latest mug of ale. Before him several tankards and shot glasses have accrued on the bar. Hearing the Lord declare all drinks are on him, Sverrir grins and gestures towards his felled vessels; "Shhhame again Morgannnn if yer pleasin' Sverrir addresses the barkeep, then looks at the Lord who entered through glassy eyes. Something. A nagging pull tells him that in this noble, there might be the opportunity for redemption... Sharpening up the dwarf calls on the barkeep once more: Scratch that mate. Coffee fer me, make it a strong one... My luck's fer the changin..." |
