Cruloc The Cimmerian's sense burn bright as the barely audible sound of footfall reaches his ears. He is on his feet quicker than the hairs on the nape of his muscular neck can stand, and he sets his eyes toward the source of the low disturbance. Thither he glides, gripping his sword, making no mor...

A couple questions for our DM:
1. You wrote that we should add 1 ration. Is that 1 ration total, or 1 ration each?
2. What is the approximate distance between Cruloc and the sound of the footfall? Does the sound of footfalls stop, as if the person who made them has stopped moving?

It's a given that Cruloc will be healing himself and everyone.

I have my doubts that darts can be crafted solely from wood. My understanding is that throwing darts require a metal head for balance.

DM, what say you?

Cruloc Drawing upon his hard upbringing and battle-honed instinct for survival, Cruloc makes plans to keep hidden and, failing that, to fight from an advantageous position. They bivouac at a place with only one obvious approach, with sight lines which enable them to see all who threaten. "No f...

Inferno wrote: ↑Fri May 13, 2016 9:49 pm
Night Watch:
1st: Amethu & Cruloc
2nd: Dahinna & Kiri
3rd: Torix

This is good for night watch, minus Torix of course. Let's do 2 watches at night, and then we can take turns napping during the day to catch up on our sleep while we wait for his return.

Cruloc Cruloc examines the spear's head before nodding in appreciation to the Pict before he departs. "Go with the fury of the thunder and the silence of the night." He agrees to accompany Dahinna, for he wishes to replenish his stock of medicinal herbs. "Let us not range far," ...

Yeah, Crom don't read much.

By "initial reaction", do you mean "Crom's nonexistent library"? I changed it because the alliterative "Crom's barren bookshelf" sounded better.

Anyhow, thanks for the comment. Whereas Cruloc doesn't care what anyone thinks, I do.

Amethu stares quietly at Cruloc as he foolishly rages against his common sense and divine mission for history and knowledge. He makes no outward sign of his contempt at all. He realizes that he needs the likes of this brave barbarian to see him through. His thoughts do stray to his spell books then...

Cruloc "Crom's barren bookshelf!" exclaims Cruloc, directing his ire at the Verulian. "Your race may enjoy greater fecundity if your kind spent more time researching the benefits of foreplay. The city tickled us with its harpies, inviting us to gambol, but it was the scholars among u...

hedgeknight wrote: ↑Tue Apr 30, 2024 3:00 pm

A Pict without murder in his heart is as unthinkable as a Zingaran trollop who lacks a moustache.

This never gets old.

Despite being illiterate, the character writes itself.

Cruloc proposes a +1 Thracian sword swap for Torix's old +1 spear. We'd both have a pretty decent backup weapon. Torix gives Cruloc his +1 flint spear. He's not proficient with swords, so he'll only take the +1 Thracian one if no one else wants it. Thank you, Jemmus! If your new spear turns out to ...

Cruloc proposes a +1 Thracian sword swap for Torix's old +1 spear. We'd both have a pretty decent backup weapon.

Cruloc "Whether in a primeval forest or the alleys of Shadizar, comfort awaits in the narrow vales," remarks the Cimmerian to no one in particular. With a low whistle, he summons the others to gather round. "Caution must be foremost in our minds. Torix, who made this kill? Will they ...

"At home in the wilds, Yrkoon is careful to camouflage himself as they walk single file."

Who's this Yrkoon guy? He sounds like a dork.

Is 80. Looks 40. Roger that.

Cruloc won't sleep tonight.

Cruloc Cruloc is alert to the sounds and smells of the surrounding wilderness. Second in the marching order, he pads watchfully behind Torix, his gaze scouring the forest floor for signs of snares, pitfalls and other potential Pictish cunning. Covering his chain mail shirt with his heavy cloak, he ...

Cruloc Cruloc, long fearful of the arcane and the occult, strokes the blade of the magical Sword of Xuthalhotep as he would the silken thigh of a Zamoran whore. Its weird power courses up his muscled forearm, but strangely, it fails to offend his senses as it once might have. Perhaps witnessing the...

Nice IC post by Torix.