Arkhandus
First Post
Grackle "Grubeater" Granitetop, gnome sorcerer 9
The gnome looks around as everyone talks about making camp for the night and whatnot. No one bothers to answer him, so he forgets about it and just wanders over to a comfy-looking spot to set up his bedroll. But he's just too restless....
So Grackle starts gibbering and pointing at various weeds and bushes, zapping them with magical bolts of fire and acid, giggling after each. He runs around splashing swamp water on anything that's still burning after he zaps it, but not until he's had a chance to watch it burn for a minute or two. Grackle finds some bugs to munch on out here, as a snack before bed.
His pet weasel scurries out to go eat some stuff nearby, then returns and finds Grackle curled up in his bedroll. The weasel pounces on him and chitters madly, swatting him in the face a few times with its tail and paws, until he gets up. Then it stands up on one of Grackle's knees and points a tiny claw at him, squeaking out something accusatory and angry.
Grackle looks confused, so he focuses for a moment and then starts chittering and squeaking at the weasel, somehow, and it talks back to him in kind. This ends a minute later with Grackle saluting the weasel, and saying in Common "Aye aye, Admiral Fuzzington, sir!" with a chastised look on his face.
The weasel hops down and crosses its forelegs, still standing on its rear legs, as Grackle mutters some more gibberish and pats a few torn spots on his clothing, which magically sew themselves back together. The weasel nods once in the affirmative, then Grackle goes back to lying down and trying to fall asleep. The weasel scurries over to the bedroll, and curls up in the relative safety of Grackle's arms, while the gnome sniffles and slowly falls asleep.
[sblock=ooc]Grackle uses up all of his cantrips for the day on Mage Hands to carry water over the small fires he starts, to help him put them out, and on 2 Mendings to fix parts of his clothing that got torn by the falling ceiling rocks earlier.
He uses up 6 out of 7 of his 2nd-level slots for the day on Scorching Rays and Acid Arrows while goofing around.
Then he uses his Speak With Animals racial ability to converse with his weasel familiar, arguing over his wasteful use of magic today and how he hasn't even bothered to fix the tears in his clothing yet, let alone renew his personal ward before going to sleep out here in a dangerous swamp.
So Grackle uses up the aforementioned Mendings, and then casts Mage Armor on himself again to replace the earlier casting, to last another 9 hours while he rests. The weasel familiar benefits as well, staying in contact with him for now.
Altogether, Grackle has 0/6 0-level slots, 5/7 1st-level slots, 1/7 2nd-level slots, 7/7 3rd-level slots, and 1/5 4th-level slots remaining. Prestidigitation and Speak With Animals spell-like abilities expended for today.[/sblock]
The gnome looks around as everyone talks about making camp for the night and whatnot. No one bothers to answer him, so he forgets about it and just wanders over to a comfy-looking spot to set up his bedroll. But he's just too restless....
So Grackle starts gibbering and pointing at various weeds and bushes, zapping them with magical bolts of fire and acid, giggling after each. He runs around splashing swamp water on anything that's still burning after he zaps it, but not until he's had a chance to watch it burn for a minute or two. Grackle finds some bugs to munch on out here, as a snack before bed.
His pet weasel scurries out to go eat some stuff nearby, then returns and finds Grackle curled up in his bedroll. The weasel pounces on him and chitters madly, swatting him in the face a few times with its tail and paws, until he gets up. Then it stands up on one of Grackle's knees and points a tiny claw at him, squeaking out something accusatory and angry.
Grackle looks confused, so he focuses for a moment and then starts chittering and squeaking at the weasel, somehow, and it talks back to him in kind. This ends a minute later with Grackle saluting the weasel, and saying in Common "Aye aye, Admiral Fuzzington, sir!" with a chastised look on his face.
The weasel hops down and crosses its forelegs, still standing on its rear legs, as Grackle mutters some more gibberish and pats a few torn spots on his clothing, which magically sew themselves back together. The weasel nods once in the affirmative, then Grackle goes back to lying down and trying to fall asleep. The weasel scurries over to the bedroll, and curls up in the relative safety of Grackle's arms, while the gnome sniffles and slowly falls asleep.
[sblock=ooc]Grackle uses up all of his cantrips for the day on Mage Hands to carry water over the small fires he starts, to help him put them out, and on 2 Mendings to fix parts of his clothing that got torn by the falling ceiling rocks earlier.
He uses up 6 out of 7 of his 2nd-level slots for the day on Scorching Rays and Acid Arrows while goofing around.
Then he uses his Speak With Animals racial ability to converse with his weasel familiar, arguing over his wasteful use of magic today and how he hasn't even bothered to fix the tears in his clothing yet, let alone renew his personal ward before going to sleep out here in a dangerous swamp.
So Grackle uses up the aforementioned Mendings, and then casts Mage Armor on himself again to replace the earlier casting, to last another 9 hours while he rests. The weasel familiar benefits as well, staying in contact with him for now.
Altogether, Grackle has 0/6 0-level slots, 5/7 1st-level slots, 1/7 2nd-level slots, 7/7 3rd-level slots, and 1/5 4th-level slots remaining. Prestidigitation and Speak With Animals spell-like abilities expended for today.[/sblock]
