OrkJager

[Mr. Prez]

(...Sorry if I seem a bit...dim-witted, but if you have a roll request not attack-related, please let me know [This is partially because of the Perform stats. I'm not sure what to do with them...Are you attempting to make money or encourage them?] by email or ooc post or just put my name on it. That way I just have to ctrl+f it. Thanks.)

 

[Harvey]

Koric, Half-Orc Cleric of Pelor

After Percy's story, Koric nods, empathizing with the twists and turns in his life.

After Franky's sad story, as Franky walks away from the campfire, Koric looks visibly uncomfortable and awkward at the turn the stories have taken. "Umm... so... er, this need not be a night of sadness. As for myself, my story is not as interesting as our friend Percy's, nor can I tell it as eloquently as our halfling friend Franky..." at this, he casts a glance at where Franky walked off, concerned for his new friend's safety.

"I am Koric, and I have had the priveledge to be raised in the great temple of Pelor in the city of Haven. For those who have never had the pleasure of visiting my majestic home, I am sorry, for my words would do it no justice. It is a marvel to behold: towers reaching as high as the eye can see. As an orphan, I faced the normal troubles that a half-human such as myself tends to face..." at that, he steals a glance at Lindal "... but I had the teachings of Pelor to help me endure. My adopted father, on my 17th birthday, annointed me as a full cleric of Pelor, and I go and spread his light and warmth throughout the realm."

 

[Wilphe]

"He shall be fine as long as we hear him singing. It's if we hear an <eek> <crunch> that we need to worry."

"Do you know what dangers lurk hereabouts?"

His eyes incline towards the fey looking half-elf and the cook/ranger...

 

[reddist]

Felicity's brief intro

Felicty listens to Koric's story of lofty towers and spanning bridges, her mouth agape in awe. In the distance, Franky continues to sing, and his sad, sorrowful words seem to hang in the cooling night air. Felicity sits quiet for a bit before realizing you are waiting her her to speak.

"M... Me? Umm... wow." She looks at each of you, building the nerve to speak. Her hand again reaches out to clasp at the blue stone around her neck. "My people, the People of the Blue Stone, we lived in the Kilvestri forests, maybe four week's journey by foot? My mother, she was teaching me the secrets of the Green Path, so I would become a druid like she was. But the Orcs... the horde came and slaughterd us. I think I am the only survivor. At least, I never found any one else." She pauses in her story, looking back in her mind's eye. She grips the blue shard tightly and takes a deep breath before continuing.

"My mom, Lorrian, she taught me well. I survived on my own for a few years, and I tried to practice what she taught me. I even managed to learn more on my own, before the Elves summoned me." Here she pauses again, and anger flashes across her face. "They exiled me from their forest. Their Speaker... he said I had to move on, find others more like myself. He gave me this blade..." She pulls a sheathed scimitar from beneath her cloak. The handle is made of antler, oddly curved and worn smooth from years of use. The fittings seem dull, like tarnished brass, but it appears sturdy and well made. "And then he told me to leave. I don't even know how to use this. Illandyll, the elf, he said this might aid me greatly in the years to come, but I have no idea what he was talking about." She draws the blade from its buckskin sheath and holds it awkwardly. You can see thin, flowing script, etched along the blade.

"Anyway, that was about two months ago. I've been wandering since. I was hoping this caravan might take me though the mountains, where I can start anew. Perhaps can find a new teacher, to lead me further along the Green Path."

She holds the blade out for your inspection, obviously clumsy in its use. "Do any of you know how to use one of these?"

 

[Mavnn]

Lindal - Half Orc Ranger

"I do," Lindal spoke, "but I would not dare deprive you of such a magnificent blade - or such a link to your past."

"My own story is not so different," the half-orc continued, "Although it was my mother who witnessed the slaughter and not myself. Given the circumstances, it's not so surprising that she tried to teach me the skills I would need to protect others from the orcs as I grew up."

His piercing gaze swept across those who had mentioned tragedy at the hands of the hordes as he continued. "She also spent many evenings explaining to me the dangers of falling into revenge rather than protection. I think she learnt that lesson from personal experience..." His voice trailed off, and then he shook himself slightly. "Enough of this - the venison's cooked. Pass the wine!"

Lindal began dishing out the huntsmans stew to those around him.

 

[Mavnn]

"He shall be fine as long as we hear him singing. It's if we hear an <eek> <crunch> that we need to worry."

"Do you know what dangers lurk hereabouts?"

His eyes incline towards the fey looking half-elf and the cook/ranger...

OOC: Paging Mr. Prez...

Survival: Roll 20 (woohoo! Bet I fumble my first combat roll...) + Skill 5=25

What do I know?

As an aside, this is my first PbP game - would you prefer this kind of post here or in the OOC thread with a link to them?

 

[Mr. Prez]

You can go ahead and leave it here make them a color seperate from your speaking....although many DMs don't let the players do their own rolls, for cheating prevention purposes. However, I will allow you folks the trust of rolling them yourselves. Just don't cheat, don't even fudge your rolls. That takes all the fun out of it.

 

[FreeXenon]

Franky, Male Halfling, Lore Keeper

"...nothing but despair.
With a cold, soft hand
and a gentle smile
you wiped away my"

The melancholy chanting abruptly ends.

You hear the quick padding of feet as Franky appears just arround the corner. A tearful smirk on his face. His nose twitching and searching for the wonderous smell...

"Did someone say supper's ready?" as a half smile slowly creeps onto his face. Quietly sitting back down on his rock around the camp fire, he eagerly waits for his hopefully generous portion huntsman stew.

Franky smiles broadly at the sight of Lindal dishing out the stew. "I remember shirefolk returning from a very successful 'Bookleaf' with a lot of venison. That night we had a big celebration with various venison stews, pies, cakes, and salads. My sister, Aura, liked it a lot and during the party I would glimpse back to the stew pot and see her trying to sneak a bowl. She would quickly take some hoping no one would see her and carefully pad off to hide and eat it. The way you are dishing out the stew reminds me of that day." His mood seems to lighten considerably following this statement.

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[Mavnn]

You can go ahead and leave it here make them a color seperate from your speaking....although many DMs don't let the players do their own rolls, for cheating prevention purposes. However, I will allow you folks the trust of rolling them yourselves. Just don't cheat, don't even fudge your rolls. That takes all the fun out of it.

OOC: Great.

With the roll above, does Lindal know anything about the surrounding countryside and it's dangers?

 

[Harvey]

Koric, Half-Orc Cleric of Pelor

"...it's not so surprising that she tried to teach me the skills I would need to protect others from the orcs as I grew up." As Lindal says this, Koric spits at the ground, muttering something that only the sharpest of ears would be able to hear...

OOC: Mr Prez, not sure how you want to handle this Listen check, so I just put the muttering in a spoiler block
[sblock]
"Damn orcs... when will we finally be rid of their filth..."
[/sblock]

However, when Lindal announces the venison's done, Koric exclaims "Finally! I was ready to eat my own glove I was so hungry!" At that, you notice Koric wipe some drool from his mouth. "Let us feast, everyone!"

As Franky returns, Koric greets him with a roar: I see you are back, friend halfling. I knew the smell of food would have you return! Feel not sad, because you share this day with new friends on the edge of a new adventure!"

Koric takes the bowl of stew handed to him, and wolfs it down greedily, wiping whatever dribbled down his chin a bit sloppily on his arm. After finishing the bowl in what seems to be one mightly gulp, he looks up at the rest of the party, grinning. "Now, did somebody say something about passing the wine?"