Jump to content
  • Content Count

    63
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    1
  • Created by

    Dave ST

Everything posted by 'Dread' Delgath

  1. "Come on Bard, look lively," Dread said in his deep, attention commanding tone. "If my greatness is to be properly chronicled I expect you awake and alert enough to capture my exploits with all the splendor and epic prose they properly deserve." He was hardly joking. House Delgath certainly had no shortness of egomaniacs but with their reputation as the finest swordsman and women anywhere in the region, they argued it was a very well earned ego. Having a bard along meant one thing that every Delgath loved: someone to tell the tale. The house reveled in a culture of telling tales of their exploits and having a long chronicle of epic deeds worthy enough to impress their ancestors and allow their tale (and by proxy, them) to live on for eternity. He took in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders as he exhaled, every muscle on his perfectly sculpted frame glistened in the early morning sunlight. "Hope you brought lots of ink and paper... because I'm amazing."
  2. "I'm not here to help these people relocate, move from their homes, or any of that shit. We signed up to handle a creature that was making these people disappear. You wanna solve every mystery along the way, fine, but you do it after the contract. On your own." He pulled his swords around his waist and secured his baldric. He looked to Artus. "No offense kid, I know this is your home and you want it safe, but you don't hire people on charity and then expect them to solve all your problems. We do the job we agreed to: kill the creature, caster, ghoul, whatever." "The rest, kid, is on you and your people, unless one of these guys wants to stay behind and be your savior." He looked at the map that Artus had scrawled. "Alright kid, you know the place better than us. Where do we start?" He took in one deep breath and didn't look at anyone in particular. "And I wash."
  3. "The bard's tomb has merit," Dread agreed with Krusk. He was not a likable guy, but wasn't about to argue a good point. "I think, however, we should stop screwing around and get things done. We seem to be wasting time on door carvings and talking about door carvings, and detecting for evil door carvings. Auril's ass cheeks, are you seriously going to detect the carvings for evil? What then? Smite the carving? They're curses, genius, it's implied. Can't say I've ever heard of a benevolent curse. Guys, they are door carvings. Sure, they are here, but they are a symptom, not a cause. We need to find the source, remove it, and then concern ourselves with the clean up." He raised a finger to enforce his next point. "And don't say that understanding the door carvings is important to understanding our enemy because we know sod all more today than we did yesterday. If it's that big of a deal, then leave the arcane wastes of space here to play with the doodles while the rest of us go and actually do something." Dread didn't fear magic, quite the opposite honestly. Magic was a powerful weapon that certainly had its place on the battlefield, he respected magic. He did not, however, respect those who wielded it. As a true warrior of House Delgath his swords were not weapons, they were tools. He was the weapon, spending years honing his skills to be ready for any eventuality on a battlefield. Spellcasters were not weapons, their magic was the weapon and with it they were arrogant and believed themselves without equals. Without it, they were nothing but feeble men and women cowering behind warriors until they could rest again to regain their arcane courage. Delgath's were arrogant, sure, but they could afford to be, even without a blade they were always ready for battle. They had no fear. None had ever heard of a Wizard or Sorcerer ever proving their mettle without their magic. "So, let's eat, quit playing grab ass and dispense with the 'good mornings' and get to work."
  4. Dread walked out into the morning air shirtless, behind him a young woman flushed as she clutched a wrapped blanket to her bosom and scurried back off to her home. The villagers gave him a look as the giant human walked among them. It was a disapproving glare that silently chastised the fighter for deflowering the young maidens of the village they had come here to help. "What?" He asked in his deep, gravely voice as his companions raised an eyebrow. "They're a grateful people. Far be it from me to refuse hospitality." When the second young maiden shyly tried to sneak through the early morning streets before someone noticed her, Dread tried not to smirk. When the third young woman swiftly chased after her friend, clutching unbound garments to her chest the citizens disapproving look only grew deeper and along with it Dread's grin. He wasn't concerned with them or their opinions, he was here to complete a task. He offered a shrug to his assembled companions. "Fine. Very grateful." After a long pause he moved past the moment. "One day you kids will know the touch of a woman, or three... let's move past my greatness and focus on getting everyone up and getting in there and kicking ass so we give this shit hole the laugh."
  5. Dread hefted his baldrics up and slung them over his shoulder. His twin blades rattled as he walked to the door. "Wyrmling, lets go. The longer they talk, the less sleep they get."
  6. "Magic," Dread grunted in an unpleasant tone, than again all his tones seemed unpleasant. "Figures. We can ask questions all night, but right now we are half-drunk," he thumbs to the Sorceress. "Or more, and we're fatigued from the journey. Let's put all this to rest and investigate tomorrow. Perhaps shifts? In case we want to try and greet these evening lurkers if they decide to visit tonight? I've had little to drink, I would not mind taking the first watch. The wyrmling can join me."
  7. I'm fine with that, it should be noted that Dread probably doesn't get along with the Paladin all that well. Grudging respect (one warrior to another), but for the most part, if they know each other they probably do not agree on much. Possibly even a few arguments in the past on how to deal with things. Dread would not be fond of Rosh as there's no honor in thievery. However, his skill set is useful so while Dread may not be fond of him, there is still a professional courtesy there. Eon... ugh, bards. Eon is a Valor bard, so Dread would offer him up the same warriors respect. On the plus side, at least there will be someone to tell the tales of Dread's legendary exploits. Eon can pen himself in a few places if he likes, for posterity. Dread is a caring god after all. He's not sure what to make of the mongrel, kobold girl (and refers to her as such, if only to irritate her). She's a Sorcerer... so obviously she's to weak to be useful, poor thing. At least she's easy on the eyes... except the horns, the horns weird. Now, I'm not the sort of player that steals from, backstabs, or, lastly, kills other PCs. They can disagree, argue, hell, even fist fight in the dirt, but as a player my PC won't ever draw steel on another character with the intent to kill them (barring DM magic, or course). Since I know we have a few new players and they aren't familiar with us around here, I just wanted to be clear that we tend to play nice (even if our PCs are assholes). We're, for the most part, more interested in the story, not the dice rolls or the 'who wins'. Have fun and roll with it.
  8. "Or akin to a man," The fighter corrected the half-whatever. It seemed to him the Sorceress only heard what she wanted to which was dangerous. He didn't want her mind expecting one thing and getting another, that could be deadly. Dread shook his head at Shayuri's idea about bandits. "Bandits would have had weapons to pry with. These creatures had no leverage. It appears more like remnant thought, or lingering instinct. Even a goblin can jimmy a shutter latch." For a man clad like a barbarian (and acting like one most of the time) Dread was very well spoken. His voice was deep and everything he said seemed matter of fact or terse. "The wizard, either accidentally or deliberately, screwed something up." When in doubt, it was always the wizard's fault.
  9. Dread knelt beside the hut, tracing his fingers gently over the scratches. He looked to the young woman and reached out for the torch, motioning with his fingers for her to either bring it closer or hand it over. She opted to bring it closer, not wanting to relinquish her light in the time when evil had it's biggest foot hold upon the land. The brute narrowed his eyes and finally stood up, taking the time to look at the jambs of the door and the sills of the windows and the stiles of the shutters. He crossed his arms over his chest and as he exhaled he lowered his hands to rest upon the pommels of the two swords that rested on each side of his hips. "W-what manner of animal was it?" Meghan asked. Dread scared her, that much was certain, but despite that fear she help but feel safe in his presence. "It was no animal," He answered her. "It was a man, or something akin to one. It had the presence of mind to try and pry open the door and shutters. It's failed... so far. Let us return to the others, you are not safe out here." "But, I have you to protect me," she finally braved a response in an attempt to endear herself to him, to show him that she wasn't afraid of him and respected him for coming out to her home to help save them. He gently took her by the arm and swiftly escorted her back the way they had came. "The gods owe me no favors. You?" She swallowed hard as a chill ran up her spine and she quickened her pace.
  10. During the trip Dread didin't really speak to anyone, he had no reason to. Mostly it was banter and that didn't really appeal to him. He'd been in companies before and it was usually a whole lot of getting to know each other and story sharing and an assortment of other socializing that made his eyes roll. He could b social, but he didn't really care where they were from, who they were or what they claimed to have accomplished, and he certainly didn't want to listen to the orc proselytize about his god like people, especially Dread, actually cared. Dread let the people have their revelry, hey certainly needed it more than he. Sure, he had a few offers from the ladies, but for the most part he left it at casual flirting and hung in the back of the great hall with his arms folded looking all dark and brooding. He was here to work and right now all this partying was wasting his time and announcing to their enemies (were they intelligent) that everyone's guard was down and ripe for the picking. The quickest way to handle the issue, in his mind, was simply to go to the shelter and deal with the problem, but of course, the villagers had to get their rescuers good and drunk first... he never understood that. Once things had settled down the giant fighter approached Meghan (he always had better luck with ladies). He towered over her and his voice was deep and uncaring. Dread didn't make a request. "It was mentioned that there were claw marks on the doors. Show me."
  11. 'Dread' Delgath 'Dread' Delgath Fighter (Champion) 4 Medium humanoid (human), Lawful Neutral (Personal Code of Honor) Age: 24; Height: 6'4", Weight: 234lbs.; Eyes: Brown; Skin: Bronze Armor Class: 16 (Studded Leather, +3 Dex, +1 Two Weapon Bonus) Hit Points: 58 (10,8,8,8 +24) Speed: 30 ft. STR 18 (+4) | DEX 16 (+3) | CON 18 (+4) | INT 12 (+1) | WIS 12 (+1) | CHA 12 (+1) Saving Throws: STR +6, CON +6 Skills: *Acrobatics +5, Animal Handling +1, *Athletics +6, Deception +3, *History +3, Insight +1, Intimidation +1, Perception +1, *Persuasion +3, Survival +3 Senses: Passive Perception 11 Languages: Common, Dwarvish, Elvish Actions: Longsword Melee Weapon Attack +6/+6 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target (1d8+4/19-20 slashing) Longsword Melee Weapon Attack Two Handed +6 to hit, reach 5ft., one target (1d10+4/19-20 slashing Dagger Melee Weapon Attack +6 to hit (+5 thrown), reach 5ft., one target (1d4+4/19-20 piercing), range 20/60 Feats: Dual Wielder, Tough Abilities: Fighting Style (Two-Weapon) Second Wind (Heal 1d10 + Ftr Lvl 1/short rest) Action Surge (Take one additional action on top of your regular action and a possible bonus action. Once used, this feature can't be used again until a short rest.) Improved Critical (19-20 threat range with any proficient weapon) Ability Score Improvement (4th +1 STR, +1 CON) Background: Noble (Fallen) Skills: History, Persuasion Tools: Gaming Set Languages: Elvish FEATURE: POSITION OF PRIVILEGE For whatever reason, Dread fell out with his family. He doesn't discuss it much. However using his noble upbringing and own personal magnetism and penchant for destroying any opposition in his way, he's acquired quite the reputation as one of the best mercenaries in The Crossing. People are inclined to think the best of him, but only when they need something. He won't be caught dead in high society, but his imposing presence generally convinces people to assume he has the right to be wherever he is. The common folk make every effort to accommodate him, but only to an extent and avoid his displeasure. Other people of high birth usually recognize him and treat him with grudging respect as a member of the same social sphere, mostly out of fear of who once was and who he's become. He can secure an audience with a local noble if he needs to. Equipment: 2 Longswords, Studded Leather Armor, Gaming Set, Ragged Clothing, Signet Ring, Backpack (Bedroll, Mess Kit, Tinderbox, Torches (10), Rations (10 days), Waterskin, Hempen (10')), Riding Horse (Saddle, Saddlebags) Wealth: 15pp, 50gp, 40sp, 100cp (241gp)
×
×
  • Create New...