Thrane's page

The leather-clad elf barely changes stride as he turns from the bar, leaving a coin flat in return for his ale.

"His cover might have been blown," he says softly as he arrives at the table, standing just behind Anuk's large, hooded form. "If I were a Chelaxian hellhound."

Looking to the General he adds,"I trust you know what you're doing meeting here in public."

"But I surmise unorthodoxy will be part and parcel of the affair, judging by this...unique collection of persons." His eyes linger a bit over the immense figure in-front of him.

"There are two more in the room that I can see - the serving girl should be asking them over soon. But there still appears to be one more missing.."

Before the lovely Half-elf can answer, the door knocks open and an odd-looking Elf, hard-seeming and brawny for his slight stature. His hair is tied back in a shock of dark gold and the tip of one of his pointed-ears is gone, an old wound that lends more harshness to his appearance.

He makes a swift sweep of the room with his purple eyes and notices a gathering at a table. His eyes are drawn by the broad shoulders of on of the party there. He ticks off the others in the room in a breath before coming in and approaching the bar.

Perception: 1d20+12=29.

I took an approach much like this, pondering how to turn a traditional not really sneaky class in something more sneaky. Pathfinder helped with this a lot by making class skills just provide a skill bonus, so you can max out and skill. Combined with free Half Elf Skill focus it made it pretty easy to come up with a pure caster that's not that far behind a rogue or ranger when it comes to sneaking.

Yeah, it's a lovely system I think...now to see how it plays. :)

Thrane is mostly done, background and appearance are in. Still have to do some shopping. On hit points, how are we handling...rolling on invisible castle or...

Thanks

...Hopefully, he won't step on the toes of the party's true rogue in any way...

I'm sure we'll be fine especially considering the infiltration elements mentioned before. I'm trying for a 'special forces' medieval-edition feel for 'Thrane' here. He's still taking shape...back to work.

Fel tilts his head slightly, looking into the brilliant blue of the woman's eyes. Could there be a corner of this world so dark and remote as to not have heard of his forebearers?

"You are fortunate indeed, woman, if you truly have never heard the word. But perhaps we can speak as we drink..."

He starts after the halfling and the Andoran, gesturing with a gloved hand for Sykala to follow.

Her blue eyes widen in wonder when Fel reveals himself, "What from?" and makes as if to touch his face. ...

Fel turns his face towards scale-clad woman, his eyes widen as her hands approach - but he does not flinch.

"What from?" He repeats, confused. Then attempting to answer a question he doesn't fully understand, "From violence and savagery...I am half-orc."

"But only half."

...I'd like to head into the heart of the Mawengi. They say there are lost cities up there filled with gold and jewels enough to buy a kingdom...

"The Mawengi won't gently give up her riches, little one. Are you sure you're up to the challenge." There is no spite in his tone, as he regards the halfling through narrow, appraising eyes.

The hooded figure reaches up with gloved hands and drops back his hood, revealing the heavy jaw and greenish pigment of an orc, his human-sized eyes are an unhuman yellow. "Fel, I am called."

Sorry for the delay in getting Fel's gear done, in the middle of moving my office. Will have done today. Skills are in - if anyone can look at them and tell me I haven't gotten it all horribly wrong, this is my first Pathfinder character...

The large cloaked and hooded figure striding up the boards stops and listens to the drunken man's words. He's accustomed to seeing men of weak constitution enchanted by spirits and other forms of dulling their minds, but this man's words catch his attention.

He listens, yellow eyes peering out from the shade of his cowl, and thinks, tries hard to remember of all the poems and songs in his small education if this one rings familiar. Knowledge (History): d20+7=27

He watches the man stumble away, and is lost - still trying to remember when a sharp smell wrinkles his nose. The half-heard conversation a few feet away suddenly draws him in.

"Fippin then." Suprised he could pick up on the accent "Yes, I grew up in Andora. Wher're y'all from?" To Sykala: "You can call me Ix. Lost of people used to."

"Long way from Andora, Ix," the voice is deep and dry. "Said you were here weeks now? Where says you a traveller can slake his thirst?" A breeze rolls the thin fabric of the large figures cloak, showing a broad shouldered shape...revealing a leather-clad form, twin blades in weathered scabbards hanging from either hip.

Here's Fel's framework...skills and equipment should be done by tonight. I decided to go two-weapon path to contrast our resident archer...in the best fantasy novel fashion.