[Hi, guys, I'm still here - for some reason, the subscriber hasn't been notifying me, so I'm glad I checked. I finished leveling Rurik to 4th (and yes, a STR point and Weap Spec: Dwaraxe goes a long way). I don't know anybody's email address anymore, but Nimisgod's welcome to check my math on the upgrade to level 4. Until then, I'll play R. at 3rd or 4th, whichever won't get anyone in trouble.
I'll be honest - this may be my last LEW adventure with Rurik, since I don't like this gameworld any more, and many of the people I'd become accustomed to RPing with seem to have already cleared the airlock.
But I finish things I start, so I'm here to the end of this adventure (which I like, at least - it isn't the problem), and that includes commitments I've made IC to other PCs, such as a spiked chain for Bro. E.
And now, onto the show...]
"Aye, if'n any o' ye need a rest, ye best take it 'ere, now."
Rurik clears his throat upon the scattered bones of the nearest zombie, and with his horse unburdened and grazing peacefully in the scrub, pads along with his compatriots.