Just checking in before work. Working on my gear - almost done. Should be able to post tonight. Digging this part of the story and seeing what everyone is choosing. Good stuff!
Be back tonight.
Search Posts
Hey Yuugasa- Been meaning to ask this since the start of the toad-combat. I must have overlooked the way you were running combat during character creation. I like it! But I chose to take Improved Initiative as a feat which is pretty useless for this combat style. Would you mind if I chose something else? Sorry 'bout that. Got to thinking about it cause I'm about to choose his weapon and all. Thanks.
Varmint brings an end to his foolery and grows quiet when the party is welcomed into the manor. With his brow slightly furrowed, he careful considers the finery of the manor and the luxury he is suddenly immersed in. He surveys the flock of servants lined up on the staircase. He approaches a half-orc man with broad shoulders and clean-shaven head, who stands nearly as tall as himself. He stands face-to-face with him. He grabs him by the jaw, and carefully inspects his protruding tusks and dark, piercing eyes. Then, with a grunt, he slaps him gently, and mutters his first words since entering the manor. "Let's get out of here for a while, shall we? Lead the way to my room." And he follows his servant to his chamber.
Reaching for the fell toad, Varmint lifts it by the head and hacks at its neck,. He's got the head in his hands now, dripping with blood and muck. He tosses it at Johann. ,blood and muck splashing him. "Take a closer look mate, he could be your uncle! "
"Ugly bastard, looks a bit like you Johann..."
"I's with Grumble."
He steps beside Grumblejack and surveys the two options. "Ain't my first time on the run, they'll be after us all right. Take the swamps. And cover our tracks doing it.
Varmint addresses Angelica.
Accostomed to taking orders, Varmit nods toward Johann and promptly drags the corpse out of sight into a deep corner of the cell. He throws the burden down and chuckles deeply at Angelica's suggestion.
A toothy grin appears on Varmints face when Angelica hands him the longsword and chain shirt. "Much better..." He hastily dons the chain shirt and swings the sword about his wrist a few times.
Varmint is ready to gut someone, no matter where we go. As a player, I agree with the others and think perhaps we should go higher into the prison to find more useful items or info. Maybe we can press someone for some useful tips.
Varmint swipes up one of the daggers and promptly tucks it in his belt loop. When Annabelle lets loose her ray of flames, he chuckles as the guards flesh sizzles...
With this, he firmly grips the shackles at his feet and attempts to pull them apart... Inspired by Annabelle's rebellious act of violence, he is focused and newly determined on this task. He continues to re-try while the others plan and take actions around him. I will roll several attempts now to see if he gets lucky and breaks free on his first couple tries. If not, and we are otherwise sitting around here, Varmint will take 20 to break the manacles with a 25 strength check.
No dice...
Varmint releases an ironic chuckle, and for the first time in a while, he speaks. His grumbling voice is colored with impatience. "Picking locks is no fools task, takes trainin' and study. Seen my keepers work tools like these many times, but they never bothered teachin' me. Don't think none of us will be able to make them work... He gestures toward Johann, indicating the spell component pouch.
Varmint sits with a loud thud, happy to be out of his chains, but showing no gratitude for it. He guzzles his goblet of wine quickly, twin streams running down either side of his mouth. His life rarely afforded him such luxuries, and as fine as this wine may be, he still would have prefered an ale.
The hulking half-orc fellow finally stopped struggling against his shackles when the raven-haired girl made her pass at him. Little woman... all talk... He took her words for mocking and grew disgusted when the other woman joined her in the jest. Well aware that his wits were no much for their own, he simply grunts and spits in the their general direction. Although, the distraction was welcome. He was thrown out of his anger long enough to realize he was getting no-where struggling this way. He was already dripping in sweat and nearly foaming at the mouth. His wrists were chaffed to the point of bleeding. He catches his breath and takes in the other prisoners for a moment. Looks like a whole buncha softies been locked up for tea time in here. I thought Branderscar was for the real animals. What could this lot be capable of? No bother... we're all dead meats anyway... He shakes a dripping tendril of long black hair away from his face, and replies in turn to the young man with the blue eyes.
He listens as the scrawny men around him bother the guardsmen, and as the pair of nobles approach their cell. High born scum. Who needs their pity!? Little good their pity would do 'em, say I could get my claws round their pretty necks. Their presence awoke his hatred for the ruling class of Talingarde. His hatred fueled his anger. Moments after the pair walks away, Varmint restarts his struggle against his chains.
Varmint here.
Brooklyn85 here, reporting in with Varmint's complete alias. Very much looking forward to playing with you all! I gave everyone's profile a quick once over and it looks like it will be quite an interesting bunch. Should be lots of fun. Thanks so much for the selection GM!
A scaly hand with dark fingernails protrudes from the sleeves of the robe, and the cloaked man shoves the entire meat pie beneath his hood. Crumbs fly and slurping sounds abound as he devours the meat pie in just a few seconds. He promptly washes it down with ale, draining it to completion. With a slam of the mug he wails, "Delicious! Another ale here, barkeep." A few seconds go by before he remembers himself. "Please." And then he belches, sounding like a giant frog, from the very depths of his belly, causing the flat ware on the table top to vibrate with the sound.
Humans and their dull insistence on manners... best I play along for now. No need to make a further scene. Seems this "gentleman" means to take center stage as it is. Cheap tricks...
What strange insult does this human mean, drawing unwanted attention to me this way? And he holds himself so...proudly. And the Halfling too... Does he think we don't know our station here? Must he illustrate it for us? Buhzter slowly rises from his corner seat and stalks over to the bar. He crosses directly in front of Astroroth's path without making eye contact, walking straight past him with purpose. "Barkeep, bring me an ale." A deep, scratchy voice mutters from beneath the hood.
Yahoo! Thanks for selecting Buhzter! Looking forward to hunting down some baddies... Just have to buy gear and double check my character sheet and he'll be ready to go. I'll probably flesh out his back-story a bit as well.Should have this finished by tonight. Do you object to any character changes at this point? I may re-think my skill point distribution and favored enemy,for instance.
A figure in a hooded cloak discreetly enters the inn. He positions himself in view of the entrance, and if possible, in a corner or against a wall. He sits with hands folded and speaks to no one, waiting to be served.
Thanks for the update. :)
Hmm.. maybe 35 is a too old. I figure he got out when he was 12 or so, which would make 23 years. I want him to have lived there long enough to have become a true hermit in some ways... looking back on some lost time... you have a suggested timeline?
Hey folks! Brooklyn85 here, posting with the Tiefling character I mentioned earlier. I am aware of the prejudice against Tiefling in the area, and have based his background on such an environment. I actually welcome the role-play challenge. If you are unsold on this idea, I'm happy to draw up something else. I'm also attracted to the rumors of a druidic enclaves within the woods and would be interested in seeing where that takes me. Who are you?
Who do you want to be?
What are you afraid of?
Why are you in Cheliax?
|