Ulfr Uggason's page

*Waits Stoically*

Ulfr takes Trendon's hands and helps him up with uncharacteristic effort, then doesn't let go. They stand there for a moment, leaning on each other. We should probably find a way to get us back to full strength. he puns.

Ulfr shrugs. I'm not going to hit as hard like this, but I won't be useless. I can go on.

Ulfr grimaces. Weakness. Oof. I haven't felt like this since that bout of Crown Flu a few years back!

fort: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Ulfr grunts as his muscles turn to jelly. His weapons now feel as heavy as they look. Saresha? he growls. What was that?

I have no idea. But yes, I'll check the door. Ulfr moves along the edge of the room, careful not to get any closer to the odd blob than is necessary...

I'm carrying my life with me, as always, so I'm ready whenever youall are!

Not I. My archetype gave up the general knowledge of the bard .

Yes, but tendon worded our main question better, so let's do his request first.

Being more of an oral history man himself, Ulfr asks Where are the sagas of powerful deeds done here?

It's all good!

and if her dainty fist doesn't work, I'll give it a try.

I prefer facts to divinations. Ulfr chimes in. And as much as I love a good fight, I'm not sure I want to risk taking on an entire clan.

I'll never let go!

May we all live in less interesting times!

Won't be hard in a town like this. Especially in their own territory.

He's actually skinnier than I pictured. Wow.

Oh, I'm sure I can't believe some of what you do either, but what's a little casual violence between friends, eh? Now, where are we going again and how many people can I hit on the way there!

Awww. They didn't come in. Ulfr jokingly whines. Ok. Let's not delay. There's a good chance those weren't the only goons were going to face today.

Just giving us the win and moving on is always an option!

I don't know. I don't follow any sports teams. The only sports I'm interested in are 1v1 affairs.

Except when the Olympics comes round. That's the Great Exception.

And just behind the shield is the bulk of Ulfr. He stands just inside the door, leaving with room for one man to approach at a time. His club is on his shoulder and a confident smirk on his face.
Come on in, boys! he taunts.
readied attack, first taker, non-lethal: 1d20 + 11 - 4 ⇒ (18) + 11 - 4 = 25
damage, non-lethal: 1d10 + 17 ⇒ (5) + 17 = 22

Ulfr shrugs. I already had a workout today, but if they insist I wouldn't object to another. Might be easier later on if we don't send a bunch of em home in bags.
That being said, I've never shied from the hard way.
He shrugs again, a living juxtaposition of bored indifference and barely restrained blunt force trauma.

Ulfr chuckles, They just asked for it, no, DEMANDED it! Or they want to hire you. Can't tell.

Ulfr's greatclub appears in his hand. Youall just stay behind Ryn and I. These guys are charging a choke point. As long as we hold the door there could be 50 of 'em and it wouldn't matter. We'll just build a wall out of their bodies.
He pauses for a moment, then a mischievous smile springs to his face. Arnic, you wouldn't happen to have a donkey handy, would you?

Ryn takes up the rear of the group, so Ulfr proceeds into the house to make sure they don't have any lurkers waiting in the wings to try something stupid. The ladies can take care of the excitable contact.

We have a runner. We need to go. Now. Ulfr growls.
intimidate to impress the danger upon the others?: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (5) + 15 = 20

As does Ulfr. perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

We could also hunt them, but I wouldn't in this crowd. Too easy to lose them. I agree with Ryn. We get to him first, fight them of if necessary. Ulfr has to consciously not draw a club immediately.

Ulfr subtlety points out a couple of musclebound men dressed in dark brown robes and sandals lingering around the mouth of one of the alleys. They're looking for someone. he rumbles.

Ulfr catches onto the tension almost immediately. He appreciates the frivolity, but also recognizes the performance, thus revealing the tension. He stalks at the back of the group, eyes peeled for things the riot of color might hide.
perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14
or take 10 for 22

Hey, if two aasimar get together, is there a chance they'll have a literal angel baby? Ulfr asks with a little smirk.

Ulfr chuckles. I'll stand watch at the door. This guy doesn't stand a chance once our ladies get a hold of him.

We need to find someone who knows something about this boy who is either bribable or works well as a piñata, right?

Ya. Unless we plan to fight the whole clan at once, And to be clear I'd like to keep that open as an option, we need a lot more information. Or just one person who's in the know and could be convinced to talk.

Bigger stick diplomacy and deceit. That's usually how these groups run. This entire city is one big gang war waiting to happen. Ulfr grumbles. He's suddenly very much aware of the metaphorical knife they're all balancing on. And if one group looks weak for even a moment, people die.

Ulfr sips the drink and tries to hide a sudden internal conflict. It's hot dirt with sugar and spice. Bitter and sweet in one. It lies to itself.
It's vile.
He does his best not to show his displeasure and focuses on the conversation at hand.
...because if it is I might come more often. he jokes.

Can't say. I don't know what that is. Ulfr says evenly. It was time for the silvered tongues here to do the talking, but this seemed like a fairly important man to have on their side of things.

Urfr takes a couple deep breaths to recover as his songs lingering effects still tingle in his limbs. Some aggressive marketing, I'd say. Very exciting! This is the best time I've had in a store since... Ever! And animating an entire selling counter! Oh man! This will make a great tale!

The thing's attack hits like thrown furniture, with zero give or bend. He feels something give in his ribcage, but the magic of his song wards off the pain... For now.
HP 34

Ulfr tries to step around to flank with Ryn as she goes into overdrive and rains blow after blow. Ulfr takes the opposite tack and plants his feet to deliver a single, mighty strike!
inspired, raging attack: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28
Damage: 1d10 + 23 ⇒ (6) + 23 = 29

Ulfr instinctively rolls his club off of his shoulders and into his waiting hands. He has zero idea what this thing is, but he knows that saving a shop or its keeper teens to lead to nice discounts. So with a battle roar that tingles along the nerves he charges into the thing before it can do any more damage!
Raging Song Charge!: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28
damaged glass, you say?: 1d10 + 21 ⇒ (5) + 21 = 26

You look amazing and threatening, Ryn bravo. But I can't help thinking that all three of us are a walking innuendo. Then again that's the point, isn't it? I'm sure there won't be anyone with an eye line to us that won't immediately be, how did those others put it, ready to plow each other?
He manages to blush through his deep tan. By the ancestors, Sershea must be wearing off on us. Posing naked for an art show is one thing, but I feel like I'm actively asking for someone to ride me into the sunset.

Ulfr ponders what could possibly count as both "lovey" and "fighty" at the same time. I've never given that much thought to my clothes. I just wore whatever was safe in a fight and comfortable. he sighs.

He pins the sleeves onto his normal totem and trinket laden leathers like he would any other symbolic item with careful attention paid to making sure they wouldn't fall off when he got to swinging his arms. Once satisfied, he thinks.
Shows off my pecks...
He snaps his arms forward and his clothes drastically change. He is suddenly in much tighter deep black leather on top that makes it look like a Shadow monster had found an incorporeal weight set and gone to town. The neck dives like Azura's outfits are want to do and the sleeves come to points on the back of his hands. His pants are loose, flowing silk fastened with a silver chain belt and his rugged boots have turned to soft, quiet black slippers with leather soles.
I feel stupid... He admits with a shy glance at the ladies.

Though he rarely shows it, Ulfr does know a handful of spells, so he is much more informed on what's going on than your typical brute. He's still about as fascinated though and his eyes wander the magical emporium in rapt wonder. It takes him a full two seconds to realize he's been asked a question.

.......OH, sorry. One for me, for sure. I haven't bought clothes since I left the Arena. he admits.

Ulfr almost blushes. A diamond in the rough escorting a Jewel and the Crown that holds her. Not a bad image. I might write a song about that.
And Ulfr starts humming snippets and fragments of music under his breath as they walk

Ulfr chuckles. Me? Less intimidating? Heavens Forbid.

Ulfr follows the shoppers like a protective shadow wearing a bemused smile. He has no desire to be here as Trendon gets what he deserves. The last thing he needs in his dreams is the sounds of squeaking furniture. Still though, good for him.
I might want a set as well. My rough demeanor might distract from our goal. I hardly care what these nobody's think, but far be it from me to harm the party through stubbornness.

I wonder if they would like it if I started bouncing.

So they got hasty and tried poking about where they shouldn't. Color me surprised. Ulfr sighs. I wonder if we could just ask around the Spire?

Be relieved. Ulfr chuckles. I think getting noticed is generally bad around here. What are you guys doing here anyway? Business?