556. Yeah, we are the vanguard for a warband. There are 47 of us. You could say we are in the vengeance business.
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558. We're all lost. The gnome makes the best campfire cookies though, so as long the gnome doesn't run out of dough, we're content. We are starting to worry about how the gnome is getting chocolate chips...
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559. I'm here, just taking a stroll, stretching my legs. These, uh, 300 men are my personal bodyguard.
560: Shhhh! They don't know I'm here.
561. They wanted to cook me for dinner, so this is a step up.
561b. We found out he is a pretty good healer, and we needed a healer.
562. We are all off to the temple of Sune!
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564. My doctor told me I need to socialize more. I only listened to her because she looked cute and sounded reasonable.
566. 'cause the cleric "Doc" H. makes you laugh.
569. This is my brother Darryl and this is my other brother Darryl.
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571. This giant head in a glass tube and his little golem brought us together and gave us nifty magic itens and told us to save the world.
572. We are a roaming pack of dragon slayers. Unfortunately, we got into the game (our fathers' game) late, there aren't many dragons anymore. So I guess we will hunt something else.
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574: @%^#&@*^ #&*(@#^ *&@#^& *)(@!#&)(@*
575. Because me (Fetchling Bard), the angelkin paladin, the ifrit sorceress, the martially inclined oread nature cleric, the sylph gypsy (Arcane Trickster), the really strong undine waves oracle, the onispawn barbarian, the Suli Battle Oracle of Gorum, the Half Orc Barbarian, the Half Elf Ranger, the Changeling Life Oracle, and the Samsaran Conjurer are all sisters created using the same beaker by the same female human alchemist with the same maternal donor
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I came up with this while cooking a healthy pasta recipe.
579. My father was the famous magician Gardalphos the Grey. I am not proud of this fact.
In his youth, my father travelled through the villages of the kingdom, performing magic and seducing the village girls. This pervert made promises about his magical power, and that it could be passed to the next generation. He would never stay for too long before he moved on. My mother, a rare beauty I was told, fell for his charms, and she was left alone to carry me, but not to solely raise me. You see in my second year, when Gardalphos came back this way my uncle seized him with a small group of the villagers. They hammered his obligations into him, and made sure he could only stay. The horses of his wagon were sold, and the wealth given to my mother. He was forced to wed my mother or lose all that he owned to compensate us. What is right, not the law, holds great sway from where I am from.
My father tried to adapt to village life, but he lacked honest skills. People quickly grew tired of his performances, and there was no earnings to be found in those skills. His magic seemed to wane as the villager mockery of it increased, and I later realised it was because his supplies and scrolls were spent. He had no real magic beyond his silver tongue and spending coin to use the magic of others.
With his selfish life over, Gardalphos turned bitter. Even though he had a wife, a log cabin, warm bed, food and peaceful surroundings high in the pristine mountains. I received the blessing of an angry and abusive father to raise me. His resentment and unhappiness was displayed daily, but most strongly when not in the presence of my mother. He hated me, and the whole village. I learned this early on.
When I was no longer a boy, things started to change, and I discovered that magic wasn’t all parlour tricks and chicanery. It was all small displays at first, usually triggered by anger, injury or heightened emotion (I had my father’s tastes in sweet village girls). I discovered that magic ran in my blood, somehow, even though my father was a fake. In the idyllic surroundings of the village, I tried to call upon this power. Months were wasted in frustration, it was always just out of reach. A travelling adventurer recognised what I was, and gave me sound instruction over a winter. She taught me of magic, how to call a few spells under my control. She taught me of the world and how to speak proper like the courtiers of the city. I could now feign being of better birth, and eventually this helped me to escape the lot of the forest dwelling peasant, and never be considered a rural again.
My new abilities, low and untapped as they were, only enraged my father. I had what he had pretended to have, and my, er, luck with the village girls reminded him of what he had lost and could never again regain. He was cunning in his cruelty, prickly and violent, but I spared the details from mother. Eventually it proved too much to continue to bear, and I began the adventurer’s path by stepping on to the old traveller’s road and saying farewell to the village, but not my father.
I found my way into my present group of companions because of my father’s renown. I think they were brigands, or were really long between jobs, because they were all set to waylay me on the traveller’s road, when a few words saved me. That one over there, had heard stories of my father from his father. He had been brought up with the stories of the power, charm and great adventures of Gardolphus the Grey magician. He didn’t want to kill the son of a legend, so I was spared a shivving and a vest of bolts, and we began our adventures together.
It is time to show the kingdom what real magic looks like.
581. We're trying to find the unhealthiest salad recipes.
That bast*rd!
583. We are on the run, after we got killed in a dungeon, and some random cleric raised us, but he then he demanded favours saying we were eternally in their debt.
Things got pretty weird...
*Rogue nods, pats stressed out sorcerer on the back*
Rogue: then I stabbed him in the heart, via backstab, through the spine. I have a dagger of pervert slaying.
Sorcerer: it is probably best we keep away from that faith for a while.
589; party provide Zipper with jelly beans, Zipper be a good plushie and kill on command for more jelly beans. Zipper just killed a gnome or few. anybody got Jelly beans?
595. They killed my family. They just don't know that they're dead yet.