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Got a 13 to insight Nethruel. @Dark Cloud Should that be an opposed roll-off?
Tibor may not know much about arcane magic, but he's decent at spotting bullshit.
Tibor may not know much about arcane magic, but he's decent at spotting bullshit.
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Just your average D&D nerd.
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You'll notice the lack of a 'G' in Tibor's alignment.
It's funny, @Dark Cloud, you mentioned TGM's backstory gave you a lot to work with. I'm getting plenty of mileage out of my 'He's from Chult' background. Things get real there, very fast. *insert 'dark humor is dark' meme here*
It's funny, @Dark Cloud, you mentioned TGM's backstory gave you a lot to work with. I'm getting plenty of mileage out of my 'He's from Chult' background. Things get real there, very fast. *insert 'dark humor is dark' meme here*
@Dark Cloud Did I meet your expectations?
Tibor finished treating the halfling, then stood. Looking at the rest, he could only shake his head. He had hoped, though he knew better, that they would have already taken care of the other man. 'The folly of youth,' the tortle's grandfather would say, 'to hope without cause. It is not the way of the world to live up to your expectations.'
Going over to the man on the ground, he looked down at him. It took only a glance to confirm what he already knew. There was no fixing that wound. "If Tibor coulda fixed de wound," he began, as he reached his hand to his belt, taking out his mace, "he woulda seen to de man first. Dis man, he not deserve de life Tibor could offer him."
With a single, swift motion, he'd bring down the head of his mace onto the man's head. Tibor was large, and quite strong. His heavy mace would make short work of the task, ending Ironheart's suffering in a single blow. There was no need to prolong it, and the cleric was somewhat disappointed his 'companions' had let him lay in his suffering as long as they had. He decided to assume it was just the ways of the mainland, one of many that marked it different from his home of Chult.
Bending down, he began to look through the man's possessions. There was his weapon, a large, two-handed hammer, which Tibor had no training to wield himself. That he would toss towards the other warrior, Alandra, thinking she would be able to catch it. The backpack and everything in it he would casually take himself, getting it out of the way to start taking off his chain-mail armor. Once that was pulled free of him, all that was left was the belt pouch with coins in it, which he himself took half of.
After tossing the backpack into the wagon, Tibor set down his weapons and went to work, taking the man to the side of the road and putting together a funeral pyre. It would take time, but as a servant of Kelemvor, it was his duty to see to the deceased. Death in flames seemed appropriate for a warrior taken in battle. Once finished, he would turn to Azra, calling out to him if need be.
"Tiefling," he yelled, waving the man over with a solemn voice and stern look about him, "use dat magic of yours and light dis for me. Least you can do for de man."
Making sure to get close to him, so his whisper could be heard, he'd casually place a claw on Azra's shoulder before he continued. "And when you tell dis story, you make sure dere were at least ten ah dem batiri, and dis man kill eight o' dem. At least." That would be the last words he spoke, until the pyre was nothing but ash on the side of the road.
Going over to the man on the ground, he looked down at him. It took only a glance to confirm what he already knew. There was no fixing that wound. "If Tibor coulda fixed de wound," he began, as he reached his hand to his belt, taking out his mace, "he woulda seen to de man first. Dis man, he not deserve de life Tibor could offer him."
With a single, swift motion, he'd bring down the head of his mace onto the man's head. Tibor was large, and quite strong. His heavy mace would make short work of the task, ending Ironheart's suffering in a single blow. There was no need to prolong it, and the cleric was somewhat disappointed his 'companions' had let him lay in his suffering as long as they had. He decided to assume it was just the ways of the mainland, one of many that marked it different from his home of Chult.
Bending down, he began to look through the man's possessions. There was his weapon, a large, two-handed hammer, which Tibor had no training to wield himself. That he would toss towards the other warrior, Alandra, thinking she would be able to catch it. The backpack and everything in it he would casually take himself, getting it out of the way to start taking off his chain-mail armor. Once that was pulled free of him, all that was left was the belt pouch with coins in it, which he himself took half of.
After tossing the backpack into the wagon, Tibor set down his weapons and went to work, taking the man to the side of the road and putting together a funeral pyre. It would take time, but as a servant of Kelemvor, it was his duty to see to the deceased. Death in flames seemed appropriate for a warrior taken in battle. Once finished, he would turn to Azra, calling out to him if need be.
"Tiefling," he yelled, waving the man over with a solemn voice and stern look about him, "use dat magic of yours and light dis for me. Least you can do for de man."
Making sure to get close to him, so his whisper could be heard, he'd casually place a claw on Azra's shoulder before he continued. "And when you tell dis story, you make sure dere were at least ten ah dem batiri, and dis man kill eight o' dem. At least." That would be the last words he spoke, until the pyre was nothing but ash on the side of the road.
Hmm... I think everyone is going to be learning a very important lesson about their 'healer' after my next post.
@Dark Cloud I went ahead and assumed a 22 would be sufficient to treat an arrow wound, just to prepare it for immediate healing magic.
Unfortunately for Ironheart, you won't find a 'G' anywhere in Tibor's alignment. Chult is an unforgiving land, and Kelemvor's teachings offer no contradictions to that mindset.
Unfortunately for Ironheart, you won't find a 'G' anywhere in Tibor's alignment. Chult is an unforgiving land, and Kelemvor's teachings offer no contradictions to that mindset.
With all the goblins seeming to be dead, Tibor had a choice to make. He could either move to treat the injuries of the halfling, which were not life-threatening now but had a serious risk of infection, or he could try and save Ironheart. The warrior had served them well, but his wounds were severe, and likely beyond the repair of even healing magics to fully fix. If Tibor did spare him death, he may well never work as an adventurer again, never able to fight. Where Tibor was from, such a decision was easy. A warrior who could not fight was as good as dead already.
Turning to the halfling, he pinned the small body down. The arrow in his leg would need to be removed, and it would take some skill to do so without inflicting further damage. Luckily, his magic would be able to fix any damage Tibor inflicted while treating the wound. Hopefully, the treatment would not be worse than the wound itself. These arrows were of poor quality, and if he was not careful, they could snap when removed.
(Medicine check to remove arrow: 22)
Carefully, Tibor lifted the leg. He was in luck, it had missed the bone and struck only meat. Moreover, the small size meant it would be all the easier to do what was needed. Gripping the arrow, he very deftly shoved it in deeper, until the head was protruding from the other side. The halfling was in luck, as the arrow had held through the push. That meant no wood shards left in the wound.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Tibor snapped off the back half of the arrow. Then, he pulled it the rest of the way through, leaving a clean entrance and exit wound with no shrapnel to worry about. Before the halfling could lose too much blood, Tibor would press his hand to the wound, grasping his holy symbol as he called on Kelemvor to heal the wounds of this lost soul, on the cusp of death. A deep, dark clue light would fill the air around him, as positive energy flowed back from the realm of the dead, forcing the soul firmly back into its body, and healing its wounds.
(Halfling is healed for 11 hit points. Tibor expends a first level spell slot on Cure Wounds; Grave Clerics heal for max on creatures at 0 hit points)
Turning to the halfling, he pinned the small body down. The arrow in his leg would need to be removed, and it would take some skill to do so without inflicting further damage. Luckily, his magic would be able to fix any damage Tibor inflicted while treating the wound. Hopefully, the treatment would not be worse than the wound itself. These arrows were of poor quality, and if he was not careful, they could snap when removed.
(Medicine check to remove arrow: 22)
Carefully, Tibor lifted the leg. He was in luck, it had missed the bone and struck only meat. Moreover, the small size meant it would be all the easier to do what was needed. Gripping the arrow, he very deftly shoved it in deeper, until the head was protruding from the other side. The halfling was in luck, as the arrow had held through the push. That meant no wood shards left in the wound.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Tibor snapped off the back half of the arrow. Then, he pulled it the rest of the way through, leaving a clean entrance and exit wound with no shrapnel to worry about. Before the halfling could lose too much blood, Tibor would press his hand to the wound, grasping his holy symbol as he called on Kelemvor to heal the wounds of this lost soul, on the cusp of death. A deep, dark clue light would fill the air around him, as positive energy flowed back from the realm of the dead, forcing the soul firmly back into its body, and healing its wounds.
(Halfling is healed for 11 hit points. Tibor expends a first level spell slot on Cure Wounds; Grave Clerics heal for max on creatures at 0 hit points)
You know, it's funny... I get to play with female characters so rarely (yay all-male playgroups *sad kazoo*) I'm always like, "Oh, hey, a female. I might finally get to do a romantic sub-plot in a D&D campaign," when I get to play with one...
This time, though, I'm a tortle... Huh.
This time, though, I'm a tortle... Huh.
@Dark Cloud Hmm... should I even worry about Ironheart? Something tells me Kelemvor has decided it's his time...
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