Recent content by rpgramen

Indeed. Being squished was not in my class description!

Excuse my belatedness. Been busy, as I mentioned earlier. Don't have time to post or anything, but I figured I'll try and answer some of the Factotum-esque questions pitched. Yes, the Bear's SR is down until the start of the next round (or the start of Sabastian's next round, if Jemal is...

"Enough." Crispin assured her, casually portraying an equally neutral tone. "Chelish. Scion of the House of Thrune. Friend of mine. Pathfinder investigating something. The question isn't what I know -- the question is what you know. What happened to her, and what was she doing for you?"

Right. No more pre-emptive stuff from me then, sir. Just wanted to get it done since I doubt I'll be able to post at all today or tomorrow. Anywho, Sabastian's actions stand as-is. No changes.

Like rancor saliva on a rock, Udo is content to simply stick to his pair of Jedi, as per his orders. Blaster at the ready, he takes Rosa's lead and keeps in stride with the pair of force sensitives.

On a likeminded note, nobody ever claimed DnD was fair :p

(Pre-Emptive Post for Next Round) Sabastian had hoped it wouldn't have come to this. Really, combat was not his most prized forte'. The next few seconds were a blur, at best, even for him as the infernal dark elf transformed in to some manner of beast and whalloped the poor caster upside the...

Score one for Ensign Udo. "Good call, boss." the grumpy soldier yaps, checking the charge on his blaster pistol before giving a stoic thumbs-up to signify his readiness. "Who's on point?"

All fix'd, my good chum.

Poised for a non-combat situation, Sabastian remains seated as-is beside the once flickering fire, hands stretched over across his uplifted knees of leather as the new assortment of bollyboo makes their presence known. Demonic and clearly demented in some fashion, the gaggle of ill-intendors...

"Touche'." retorts the cheeky rogue, perfectly happy to confess his love for all things monetary and shiny as he corrects his moppish du. "The fact still remains, however, that a back-up plan might be handy. You know, just in case." Waterskin in hand, Sabastian takes a long, hard swallow...

"Hrm..." Sabastian crooned, melodiously pondering the current affairs as they stood presented. He was no man of the sword, nor of the cloth or tome, like his friends Chevik and Arineil. Truth be told, he lacked any sense of formal schooling in its wholeness. What he lacked in formal training...

Pleased that the destination wasn't as distant as it could have been, Crispin's senses are assailed by an assortment of notable things: the fresh scent of a well-kept garden, ink by the barrel, and the stiff and lingering scent of wax hewn throughout the air. The lad at the door was of little...

I call dibs on "Team Awesome" :p

Fix'd. EDIT: ... and now my sheet is broken and I seem unable to fix it. Feh.