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The Deurgar continued to calmly keep his distance. He saw no need to do else but that. The others had this under control, which once again proved the value of having a versatile team.
”My sword is useless against this.” The Duergar said as he backed away. ”We should return with flasks of acid and fire.”
Thurin ignored the talk about magic. Whether it came from carving runes, chanting words of power, or singing, it was all magic to him. It amazed him how people cared so much about emotional reasons for choosing one form or another. To him, all that mattered was effectiveness, and what came most naturally. For him it was psychic magic, so that is what he practiced. If it came naturally to him, then that is what he worked on. There was no more to it than that. All that said, it was intriguing to hear Eric talk about the cumulative effect of song-magic. To turn otherwise worthless human rabble into an effective fighting force spoke volumes about his abilities. His respect for the man increased. But not enough to join in the conversation, for it was far more important to keep his eyes and ears sharp for any further danger.
The Deurgar tried to stomp on the cockroaches. It did not work, given their large size and his short legs.
”Chittering from below. If we have everything we need then we should leave. It isn’t efficient to have battles without purpose.” He offered in the same tone of voice as someone suggesting a place to eat or some other mundane activity.
Silently Thurin kept his eyes and ears open. He saw no need for idle chatter.
Practical experience either way
”Well thought out. Will keep me eyes sharp for other beasties.” The Duergar said.
"Hmph." Thurin grunted as he saw the insects come down at them. "How bothersome."
My apologies for not posting. Couldn't log in for a few days, and just had surgery on my ankle yesterday (no walking for 6 weeks). At home recovering now. Sorry for the delay.
"Aye then, lets get to it. The day is young and there is much that can be done."
Thurin watched in awe at Eric’s deductive reasoning. He was but a simple smith, for whom putting a decoration on a pommel was a life changing moment. The amount of critical thinking being displayed made his head spin. ”So…to Kelstrop, then?” He asked, not feeling very sure in doing so.
With an impatient grunt Thurin stomped forward and held out his hand. "Just give them here and I'll read them out loud."
As they left, Thurin wondered why the others acted unhappy going to the morgue. The dead were dead, afterall. What was the issue with empty husks? He also wondered if the humans had a food-processing facility attached to it, to make use of the raw materials. Back home, there was no reason to let a slave go to waste, even if one died. The humans couldn't be so wasteful that they would not do the same, right?
Thurin nodded. "Aye. He makes a good point as towards the memories of mankind. And we're already here. Might as well get the more onerous task done first."
Thurin felt that pull again. The pull to help from the damned rune. Out of spite towards it, he leaned in to the table. "We going to be compensated for it?" The duergar said. The idea of working for free didn't sit right to him. And if it made whatever possessed the rune angry, then all the better!
”Reefclaw and fire in the hole.” Thurin said. He wondered if the Reefclaw would taste like the cavern-critters of back home, and the drink sounded strong enough. Not like the piss-water that humans often tried to pass as alcohol.
Indeed. Get some rest and feel better :)
Thurin looked around warily and sniffed at the aromas. Restaurants didn’t have a habit of eating at restaurants. This was because they were more expensive to eat at than to bring the food back home. Tips they called it, to pay for use of the restaurant’s slaves. Given that he could fill his own cup and carry his own food, he didn’t see it as an expense that was worth it. But if someone else was paying, then the Duergar cared little for how much coin they spent on such frivolity.
Free dinner? It was hard to turn that down. Pragmatically speaking, he had nothing to lose.
Thurin crossed his arms. He could feel the rune on his hammer acting up, the psychic connection between he and it causing him to feel a rush of anticipation. The forge-god had driven him from his homeland, and it seemed like he wanted Thurin to be here at this time. But for what? Unhappily he crossed his arms, and with some bitterness in his voice said ”It would seem that fate has brought us here, to determine what has brought the visage. I’ll offer me hammer and skills to whomever is investigating this.”
Thurin shrugged. "Was hoping to know the same. Plenty of chaos and commotion caused by this stunt. Can't say that I approve."
Thurin walked over to the mage. It felt odd to see the streets so empty, making it seem like they were on some sort of stage. The gray dwarf looked up at her and said ”So? What happened here?” He didn’t see any point for idle chatter or polite banter. A waste of time, when one could get right to the point.
Thurin scratched his head in confusion. Everyone was fleeing from the apparition, but it was already gone. Logically speaking, it couldn’t hurt you if it had already left. Either that or it was an illusion. Either way, there was no danger. What he was curious about was what had caused it. Sadly, he was no wizard, so there wasn’t much he could do on that front. So he looked around to see if any other clear heads remained.
Looking over bladed scarf…if I were to make someone using it, I’d probably do this, to make use of it being 2-handed and finesse: Class: Unchained Rogue
So at lv 3 with a +1 weapon: +7 hit and 1d6+9 damage with 2d6 sneak attack Go to lvl 4 for debilitating injury. From there switch classes for full BaB. From there switch to a different full BaB class. Urban Bloodrager is good, as it gives a Dex boost. —— Another option is this: Race: Human
Class: Weapon Master Fighter
Grab dueling gloves. This gives you weapon training 3, so you have +3 hit and +6 damage. Finally, dip into Savage Technologist Barbarian. Rage gives +4 Str, +4 Dex and +2 Will Saves. Take extra rage feat. So at lvl 6 when raging: To Hit: +6/+1 (BaB) + 2 (Enchantment) + 1 (Weapon Focus) + 3 (Weapon Training) + 6 (Dex) - 0/2 (Power Attack) = +18/+11
——- That’s pretty decent damage. I think that it would do well enough. From here can go back to fighter and pick up this: Focused Weapon (Ex) The fighter selects one weapon for which he has Weapon Focus and that belongs to the associated fighter weapon group. The fighter can deal damage with this weapon based on the damage of the warpriest’s sacred weapon class feature, treating his fighter level as his warpriest level. The fighter must have Weapon Focus with the selected weapon in order to choose this option. So the 1d6 base damage will be quickly replaced.
Thurin stopped and watched the spectacle with interest. How foolish could the surfacers be? It seemed like he was soon to find out…
After a long day, Thurin was not particularly perceptive, be it with his surroundings or other people.
At length, Thurin stopped at a stall where backpacks were being sold. He did so, because the merchant there stated that they were 0f dwarven-make, which struck him as odd as they were leather and he had thought that his long-lost cousins were most well known for stone and steel. looking it over, he found one that had numerous pockets, hooks for attaching items such as canteens or a blanket and padded bands to distribute weight. It had no decoration on it that could be seen, but the quality was excellent. Slowly and methodically, the duergar talked the price down, until he managed to make an arrangement which matched his current financial situation.
Thurin walked the marketplace, silently judging all within it. The loud, raucous people who did not know what they needed and who chased what they wanted. The inferior goods that served no purpose. The doodads and thingamabobs and whatchamacallits! So much shiny junk! He had begun to see the purpose of enjoying life and taking pride in one’s craft. But what pride was there in mass produced junk? Still. There was one saving grace. The food! At least that made the trip worthwhile.
For the most part, Thurin kept his head down. If he had to describe Roderic's Cover in a single word it would be "overwhelming." The sheer amount of noise was deafening. The slaves-, no, the people, were always talking. Laughing. Running about doing this and that with no rhyme or reason. It was enough to make him feel panicked. Yes, they worked, but they did so (as far as he could tell) when they wanted and did as poor a job as they could get away with. With some coin left, he spent his time in the tavern of all places, his hood up to hide his skin from prying eyes. But he knew that his coin would not last forever. He wondered what he could do to earn some coin? Being idle did not suit him, for it still made him feel anxious to have time on his hands that was not being spent. So with market day coming up, he discreetly tried to find work, using his skills as a smith.
Always find it interesting how things can be so different and yet the same across cultures. I'm jealous for when you say that your stuff rarely broke down. Our shyt was always broken. I drove an M113 APC, and that thing was the worst. Went into the field once and there had been a fire inside that was never really fixed. And the Paladins...a few of them were real bottom of the barrel quality. I used to joke that the best way to defeat ISIS was to air drop our equipment and let them have it. That said, at least I never popped tracks. Saw others who did and it did not look like fun to fix it. ---- Also I am *NOT* convinced that Eric isn't a 14/Mythic trickster 6 Succubus with a legendary magic Soviet Sniper rifle. Until I see ironclad proof that he isn't, I will remain wary.
You were in a PzH2000? Cool. I was FDC in a Paladin unit. Similar vehicles. Wasn't a gunbunny myself, just went in for trouble shooting. Was glad that I didn't have to be part of the loading process. Doubly so when I moved to a towed-howitzer unit (artillery support for mountain infantry). I can really see how it would build muscle, but at the same time f-your back.
As I see it, a breastplate is like wearing army body armor + helmet. The Greathammer is probably equivalent to an M16 with extra ammo. And a backup weapon with fighter’s kit is pretty similar to a filled ruck sack. Given how much I hated ruck marches, it just goes to show how adventurers are in good shape. So yeah. Agreed. Your PC isn’t any more over burdened than a modern soldier.
Discussion: Thurin has the best beard of the group. <eyes Mossbeard warily>
Thurin will likely make use of inspired rage for lvl1 only. This is because at lvl2 he gets wisdom to hit and damage, making the -1 AC hurt. That and I don’t know if it will shut off his psychic casting, which from lvl3+ becomes useful. However, inspired rage will be super useful at lvl1. Going from Str 16->18 is a really big deal. So for the one level that he will accept it, it will be put to good use.
And we could use the discussion thread to be opened for some pregame chatter
Thank you for the selection. Given how many quality submissions were here I did not have my hopes up!
As always, the part where I sympathize the most with the GM. A hard choice with multi-year ramifications. Good luck everyone!
Truly hope Ivar and Thurin get into the same party. It would make for a very unique front line
Completed PCs:
Grigori is a really unique race/class. I’m a big fan of paragon classes, so it’s really cool to see one where the PC becomes more and more angelic.
Thank you! I really appreciate it. And knowing that the background was read at least once and was enjoyed makes it worth it, even if not selected. :)
Background:
Thurin worked the forge. It was a joyless task. It was an emotionless task. He made axes. He made swords. He made helmets. He made shields. Every day he made these things without a thought as towards why. He didn't know who would use them. He didn't even know if they would be used. It was his task to make them, so make them he did. The slaves brought in the raw materials and he worked. The slaves took the weapons away and he worked. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. The duergar toiled away. The only ones who might have worked harder than him were the slaves, though in a sense, he was as much as slave as they. This changed when he was called for patrol duty. It was another thankless which he performed because it was his clan's duty, and as such it was his. He and his kinsmen would walk the Deep Roads and be on a look out for any trouble. It was duty, and it also refreshed the mind, so that they might return to their craft with efficiency. He had walked those roads dozens of times and he was certain that he would do so dozens of times again. Though this time was different. It was different because he found...a dwarf. Or more specifically the corpse of a dwarf. Well, the remains of the corpse of a dwarf. It had fallen prey to one of the many giant spiders which defended their home. Thurin walked forward to see what was left, and turned his nose up in disgust. The dwarf's armor, which had not been eaten, was ostentatious. What use were the small horns on the helm? They served no purpose. He would never have added something so superfluous. And the axe? It had runes on it, when it wasn't even magical. Runes...that were for show. No wonder the dwarf had died, when it had been so impractical. It was only too bad that the dwarf had died when it could have been a slave. Wasted resources. He almost turned away when he noticed something. There was a piece of metal clutched in the dwarf's skeletal hand. He bent down and pried it open. The duergar's eyes went wide. He had heard of these artifacts before. Used by bards and other psychic practitioners, they held shared mindscapes as reminders of the past and to inspire the youth for the future. The duergar pulled it loose and held it up. "What's happening here?" He heard a gruff voice from behind. Without thinking he put the metal in his pocket and turned around to see an elder approaching. "Dead surfacer. Eaten by a spider." He responded. The elder walked over and looked down at the dead dwarf. "Gather the arms and armor. They can be remade." The duergar nodded. -------- Once home he stared at the piece of metal. He knew that he should be working. He wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he wasn't defecating...so that meant that he should be working. But something about the metal called to him. Using his latent psychic power he clutched the metal and opened up his mind.
Thurin opened his eyes, and with some confusion raised a hand to his face. Why was his face wet? The duergar pulled his hand down and saw tears upon his fingers. He was...crying? Emotions touched his heart of coal, emotions that he had never felt before. Filled with confusion he got up and put the piece of metal down. He had work to do, and to his shame he had not gotten to it. Minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days. But time did not creep on without stop. It was felt. Thurin knew something was wrong because when he worked he *thought* which was not right. He was supposed to be lost in his work, but instead he was present. The slaves brought in materials and he noticed them. They looked scared when he looked at them, for he had never done so before. For the very first time he actually acknowledged their presence. It scared him as much as it did them. He lay down to sleep, and for the first time he could not do so. All he could think about was the vision. The duergar crawled out of bed and retrieved the stone. He held it in his fist and opened his mind... ...the next day he was tired. He had never been tired as such before. He was making a helmet, and as he did so he added little horns to it. They did not need horns. They were impractical. But he had done so. The helmet was soon broken and melted down, with fear gripping his heart. He could not let any other see it. It would be the death of him. With a scowl he went to the shard of metal and threw it away into a pile of slag. He did not see the metal grow four legs and skitter off of the pile. Days went by and he forced himself to work, but it wore at him. He was mentally tired. Thurin cursed himself for his weakness. He cursed the dead dwarf that he had found. He cursed the shard of metal! And as he cursed the shard he looked up and saw it on his table. Only now it was not just a shard of metal. Not it looked like a small iron hammer. With a trembling hand he reached out and picked it up. As he did he felt a *flash* and a name came to him. Drazh Anviltamer. It was a burly dwarf who wore the mithril and gold armor from his vision. He carried a hammer with a silver head that had a haft covered in dragonskin. The dwarf laughed, a bellowing sound which was completely absent from Thurin's life. With a gasp he stood up, looking around at his spartan home. Trembling he stared at the shard of metal. He knew then that his life was over. He could not live like this. Sooner or later he would be found out and he would be killed for being a heretic. His actions would shame the clan and there would be no forgiveness. The very best that he could hope for was that he would be made a slave. The next day Thurin went to the gates and told the guards that his clan had called him to patrol. They did not question him, for why would he lie? They knew him. Everyone knew each other. He was a duergar of excellent reputation. He never lied, he only worked and did what he was told. The gates opened and with forced calm he walked through. He walked down the Deep Roads as he had done dozens of times before. Only this time he did not look back. --- Thurin walked through the Darklands alone. He did not have enough food, nor did he have enough water. He did not even know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to run, because his Clan would come for him. That he knew, for his actions would dishonor them. He had to escape. So he marched ever onward, driven by a burning desire. Who was this Drazh Anviltamer? Why did that laughing visage haunt him so? He had to know this before he died. The duergar came to the surface in the mountains of Kaer Maga in an ancient ruin. The duergar blinked and squinted at the tyranny of the sun. Half starved and dangerously dehydrated he had completed his own personal Quest for Sky. With the shard of metal clutched in his hand he fled into the alien world, confident that here his people could not pursue him. When he came upon a stream of water he nearly dove into it. Once his thirst was satiated he took stock of where he was and what he had to do. Thurin knows little about the surface world, and has never heard the name of Roderic's Cove before. But he knows a few things. First he can speak common, for that is the language that the slaves speak. He can speak dwarven, for it is his own tongue, even if the dialect is different. And he has come to terms with the name of the God that has cursed him: Torag. For the metal shard that he cannot throw away has taken upon the shape of that deity. And he knows that this Drazh Anviltamer was a dwarf that was blessed by the God of Smiths. No longer does Thurin feel the pull of Dorskar, now it is only the song of Torag's anvil that beats in his heart, along with the desire to create. Alone in a foreign land, filled with 'lesser races' that he had only ever thought of as slave stock, the duergar must now find himself, and discover what it is that Torag has called him to do. And there we go! Thurin's backstory. A CG duergar who has been blessed/cursed by Torag. As an augmented blade soulknife he has a psicrystal, which is the shard of metal in the story above. It is central to his class and it is central to his story. He is also a Gifted Blade, to represent his psychic abilities, which will grow as he does. Personality wise, he is certainly Cha6. He is a duergar, afterall. Things such as laughter and fun are foreign to him and he has the 'paranoid' drawback, which represents his upbringing and background. When interacting with other she is polite to a fault, being very formal in his speech (hence diplomacy as a trained skill). But at the same time he is not evil. The horrible institution of slavery was never done by him out of a desire to dominate others: it was never even thought of, for he was a slave to Droskar and to his Clan in body and soul. This is the first time in his life that he is making decisions for himself, and I look forward to him learning how to be a functioning member of society. --- As for his role in the party: He is a tank (but probably not as good as a specialized one), he does close combat DPS (similar to a fighter), and he has an informant psicrystal that has all knowledge skills in it that it can telepathically convey to Thurin. So while he isn't the best skill monkey, he can help out with any of those. And finally, he'll get some spellcasting in the form of psychic powers, which will focus on healing and buffing.
Great! Thank you. Crunch is done (bar some rechecking) and I’ll get proper fluff up soon. Also, I really like the use of recorded memories. I’ll be making use of that idea. :) @mittean: I’ve never seen rules for bugbear PCs before. Where can I find that? Also Egrias the blind sounds like a great character. I really dig a PC who is a chosen one and who is truly unhappy about it. Works especially well with the blessings/curse being tied to the campaign
Just to be clear, I’d a Duergar ok? Alias
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Xen