Verrik Jentoft's page

~CRUNCH~

"Ooooohhhh." Verrik grimaces theatrically as Ellantera splatters spider parts everywhere. "That must have hurt. Stanley is right, though - prioritise not getting poisoned."

Verrik sheathes his rapier and picks his bow back up. "Moving on, then?"

"Well, kinda sorta wild dogs, right? Can you tell why I'm such a great policeman? Anyway, good job, everybody."

Verrik drops his bow and heads into striking range.

Move to AB17 before stabbing Krenshar1 with my rapier. Attack roll: 1d20 + 3 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 3 + 1 + 2 = 22, damage: 1d6 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 1 + (4) = 9; bonuses include flanking, sneak sttack and Bless.

5' step to X17 before firing at K3. Attack roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16, damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7.

Init: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"WATCH OUT! IT'S A... Oh, it's a wild dog. We'll, let's kill it anyway."

"Got it." Verrik stows away his rapier and unlimbers his shortbow.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

"Just a bedroll? Good, good." Verrik seems oddly relieved.

Examining the stonework within the alcove, Dohrlok spots a circular depression in the floor, about two feet in diameter and an inch deep. Spaced at equal intervals towards the edge of this depression are four deep holes less than an inch in diameter.

"Now this, on the other hand, seems rather suspicious. Let me take a look..."

Disable device: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

The light that does filter down into the ravine dimly illuminates a long hallway beyond the portal, extending north into darkness. A faint breeze brings with it sibilant whispers reminiscent of sighing breath. It may be a trick of the wind, but the effect is quite lifelike.

"Don't worry too much about the whispering - it's just the wind." I think. Verrik gets his blade out, holding his rapier in his right hand and a torch in his left.

"I'm a decent trap and lock man," he mutters to Dohrlok. "See anything, let me know."

I was mostly waiting. But...

"Good to see you, Tyvall. Help yourself to more brews." Verrik looks around the now-cramped room while sipping his flagon. "Now, some of you might wonder why we - a horse doctor, two...carpenters, the local mortician, one of Ellival's blades and Cubbin's most junior deputy - are stuffed into this room. The answer is, as it always is in this town, money. The arrival of the peacocks from Greyhawk City reminded me of something from a long time ago - while those three idiots are off to explore a cairn that has been looted thoroughly many times over, I actually know the location of an undisturbed cairn, and I need help in exploring it. We represent a diverse skillset. Now, will that get anyone talking?"

"Ladies, gentlemen. Good evening and welcome to the Feral Dog, undoubtedly Diamond Lake's finest drinking establishment." Verrik pops into being by Stanley's elbow, seemingly out of nowhere. "I have secured a side room for us so we can avoid any serious distractions. As we are here on official police business, the room comes with beer, but without any prostitutes, I'm afraid. Move along, now."

Verrik hustles the party off into a side door and kicks it shut behind him. "Now, I am Verrik Jentoft, and I have a business proposal for you. However, before we get to that - I only know most of you by reputation. Why don't you tell me a little about yourselves before we get to the serious part of our talk? Anyone care for some beer? I won some coin on the previous dog fight, so I got us a barrel."

Verrik is one of those guys that Stealths everywhere. My apologies for posting late - it was a combo of being busy, waiting for everyone to come back from their vacations and wanting to be the last arrival. Speaking of which...

Verrik pauses, mug in hand. "Wasn't there supposed to be one more dwarf?"

I decided on a rogue. While I thought about the Thug archetype, I don't want to give up trapfinding, so I'm a straight rouge.

The mechanical parts are up - I'll add more background details later.