Well, pooh.
Have fun, guys!
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14 potentials for a maximum of 4 spots? Far from the worst odds I've seen in a recruitment. I hope you and your remaining two players find a group you can enjoy.
Been piddling around, trying to come up with something appropriate. Reusing an old alias for this submission. I think it is all in place. One rules question (not anything I will change the build over), if I may. The Trait "Blessed Touch" says it provides a 1 point healing bonus to lay on hands, channels, and cure spells. I suggest that it should also apply to a Warpriest's Fervor healing, as that seems perfectly in line with the intent, given both the comparison to lay on hands and the fact that Fervor uses are expended for Warpriests to channel. Let me know if there are any questions, concerns, or feedback. Thank you for your consideration.
Torant falls, unconscious and bleeding.
On his turn:
"Only if you want to be supper!"
"Owwww! What the bleedin' mug o' . . .. Wait. I'm bleedin'! What the devil are you, you stupid big worm?"
Another Scout camping trip. This time with the troop, like is supposed to be normal. Going back to the site with no cell coverage. My allergies are hitting me hard enough I want to just crawl into a ball and do nothing. All the boys can't get there unless I drive.
Nothing coherent. I "woke up" unconscious and bleeding out. I'm sure some animalistic scream of agony is reasonable, but there's no justifying an intelligent comment. And you misunderstood my rules reference entirely. A full attack requires a full-round action - something not normally doable in a surprise round.
Surprise round? I thought surprise rounds were restricted to partial actions only. No full-round action choices allowed?
Assuming I am awake and on watch, everything will hit. -6 HP.
More scouting. Helping run a training course that will keep me occupied through late Sunday. I am in cell range and might get a few minutes like this every now and again.
Don't care. Will deal with it.
Time for another BSA Campout at the facility with no cell signals. I head to work in the morning and then go meet the troop and head to camp. I'll be back on Sunday.
The wildly-bearded one starts giggling. "Yeah, to make nice with some giants! Doesn't seem to be going well so far, does it?"
Torant actually shudders. "That is just NASTY."
Torant spends a few moments to look at the ongoing conversation, and then turns to finding something to clean his mug off with. After he gets the worst of the material off of the mug, he starts polishing it, trying to convince himself it is clean enough to drink from again.
Torant shambles to the repulsive thing and tries to bring his mug down on it's head.
"Gonna need to wash THAT off . . .."
"What do you think you're doing? Get back where you came from before we are forced to really hurt all of you!"
Torant moves in front of whomever chooses to use ranged weapons, pouring some water into his mug and taking a sip while he waits for the apparent enemy to get close.
"They don't look like they intend to trim our beards . . .." He pulls out his stone mug and polishes it on his shirt.
Looking at his axe and pick, the wildly-bearded one shrugs,pulling them out and placing them in the wagon, covering them with whatever's handy so they are out of sight. He looks over at the guards. "That good enough?"
Torant laughs at the poor fellow's apology. "Right as rain! We be the dwarves heading through to track down rumors and talk to those who might have seen anything relevant to those rumors. I hope all your travelers are as easy to identify and as non-threatening!"
Torant snorts. "Giant? No. I speak several other languages, though, including the common trade tongues. If they've been doing much trading, they should have someone who speaks one of those!"
"Moradin will get us there and Moradin will see that we quell the thieves, but Hanseath will keep us moving and motivated to do the deeds! The gods together will ensure our victorious return to our home!"
Now, if only I could convince meself it'll go that smooth . . ..
Belching, the wildly-bearded one looks back towards the elders. "They said something about a supply wagon and access to the stores to fill it. Unless you're planning on going and doing that right now, I'm thinking day after tomorrow is about as quick as we can do it right." He looks down into his stone mug and frowns, turning it over with only a drop or two spilling out. "This has been a good day, and the task worth celebrating, but we need to start the task. Ought to go to bed so we can start . . .. Ah, who am I kidding? Another round!"
Headed to a Boy Scout Shooting Sports campout to run the archery range. In the Hill Country and a valley, so there is no cell service after I get there. Will be back Sunday night.
Waving his stone mug at the elders, Torant grunts. "They said the giants TOLD US about some of this. They have been working with us already. Yeah, we could anger them and make things harder, but why walk away from those which have offered help? Not that they've offered ACTIVE help, mind you . . .."
"Ready for what? To go ask the giants what they know or to try to work our way home with only what we know? I don't mind the walk, I could use the exercise, but I would like to know which way to point my nose."
Family is more important than these games. Take the time you need.
"Food and libations will be important, of course. They always are. Rope and tackle and picks could be important, too. Bandages and healing herbs will probably be important, too. Maybe more than the rope and tackle. Wish we knew something more than somebody's in there."
"Don't get it. How do a bunch of old ingots tell us the smelters are running?"
"Pretty. Who had 'em?"
"Sober? Seriously, Branago? Sober is for battle and working! A feast is neither! And you are providing us with just that."
"A welcome worthy of The Bearded One himself! Who are we to refuse such hospitality from our own Elders? We thank you in the most Dwarven way possible, by letting none of it go to waste!" With that, Torant offers his stone mug up for filling . . .. Then he lays in.
"And if you think the traditions of Moradin are everything, put down the ale, forget celebrating victory, and plan to be celibate. There's more to life than duty, and that's why life matters!" He thumps his stone mug on the table to fill it, again. "To Angur-Khul? To the generations that will grow and love and live within Angur-Khul!"
Squinting at the sign, Torant starts giggling. He carefully removes his boots and carries them inside, setting them down on top of a table inside, mud and all. "So . . ., how are we going to do this, anyway?" |