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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Tai-laan and equipment
I'll allow you to keep (or remove) any equpment you see fit for roleplaying purposes, just not add new stuff. If tai-laan gave up rations so be it that's gracious of her. Asfor potions and throwing knivesit's realiztic enough to believe you've scavenged extras from bodies to replace what you've lost accounting for the keeping of thesame inventory.
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 19:46:38.
Edited on 2007-08-17 at 20:06:43 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms (Mature)
Subject: Cool thy Temper
Temper had put miles of snow laced wilderness behind him as he tirelessly pursued his prey. A small fishing community had hired him for a weeks’ supply of fresh fish and furs to hunt down a viscious beast which had been stealing their catches, and even going so far as to eat one of their pack dogs. They had described the vicious beast as reptilian, winged, and with breath that could stop a man where he stood freezing their blood cold. The Dragon disciple had never seen a full blooded dragon before, but he knew in his heart that this is what the men spoke of. At the thought of being able to prove himself against a full blooded member of his distant kin, the warrior had set out into the night, following clawed tracks which went on and on.
Into the tundra Temper went, hell bent on claiming the dragon as a test of strength. He followed the tracks until they led to a small cave opening in the snow, a shelter from the blistering cold winds. Moonlight shone down reflecting upon the icy layer which coated the walls, and danced upon the copper flecks which had begun to appear upon Temper’s skin.
A fierce roar echoed from somewhere deeper in the cave, and only bolstered Temper’s resolve that he had cornered the beast. He marched on, and came to where he believed the dragon rest around the bend. Raising his enchanted scythe ‘Thunder’ high he charged around the corner…
Only to find that the great Dragon he was to slay was barely three feet tall and half again that size in length. Hardly a frightening thing, the child dragon barked its roar, amplified by the tunnels towards a creature much more imposing. There, having cornered the beast stood a hulking brute covered in white fur. It stood taller than a man, and must have weighed as much as three. It bore muscular arms which ended in talon nailed fingers, and large fangs already dripping with ichors and saliva as it fantasized its next meal. As Temper entered the room the Yeti turned to the sound of the intrusion, and as the hulking beast shifted, Temper was able to make out another creature in the room. Standing with her back to the wall was an elf, clad in the armor hewn of white dragonhide. Her pale skin was devoid of almost any color, as was her hair, and she blended into the ice and snow packed walls like a thief might the shadows. She wielded only a paltry dagger forged from a dragon’s tooth, probably the same one her armor was fashioned from; and seemed to be doing all she could to keep the Yeti away from the young dragon which skittered over to her side seeing Temper join the scene.
The Yeti, aggravated and driven by hunger let out a terrible roar which shook the cave, thick icicles the length of longswords clinging to the 20ft ceiling vibrating and jingling like a wind chime… or perhaps a dinner bell.
((This Cave is as follows. 300ft at a gradual decline from the surface opening ends in a curve to the right turning right opens into the roughly oblong room 15ft at it's widest, and 30ft at its length's entirety. There is another passageway leading into the darkness behind the Yeti towards the right.))
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 19:08:05.
Edited on 2007-08-17 at 19:17:45 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms (Mature)
Subject: Ancient hatred
For the citizens of Trice the war had been a terrible thing. Countless lives and homes had been lost, histories erased and futures never to arrive. There was one thing however that Trice had that many of the outer settlements, or simple innocents caught unawares did not; forewarning. To the south of the Nabaresh the entire country was in an uproar, making plans to either join the fight, or seek shelter or solace from the battle ahead. What impact would a war For the citizens of Trice the war had been a terrible thing. Countless lives and homes had have on the other side of a thousand tons of snow, rock and earth?
Taklinn and Gideon had met as kindred spirits, wandering the frozen tundra of the north in search of a purpose greater than them, and had become a strange but efficient duo in their short travels south to the wind swept banks of the Nabaresh. There they encountered a rather large encampment of orcs, settling in for a harsh winter and preparing to lay siege to the dwarves of the mountain. Taklinn and Gideon had delved deep into the settlement, using both stealth, and brute force to clear a path. Many an orc or warg fell to the pair as they quickly penetrated deep into the camp. It was their haste which inevitably got the better of them though, as Gideon fell into a deep pit filled with poison laced spikes, from which he unfortunately ne’er escaped. Taklinn, in his effort to safe his companion was captured by the orcs, the hateful looks of vengeance and cruel looks of torturous intent lighting the black eyes of his captors as he was taken to the chief’s tent.
It had been what seemed like ages. For days without end he had been bound in a dark room and tortured without mercy. The Blood Eye Clan had burned out his eyes only to restore them via magic to let him suffer the fate again, they had severed limbs and reattached them for their own sick pleasure, all the while pressing Taklinn for information regarding how to penetrate the Nabaresh to reach his distant kin. Taklinn, despite not knowing the answer having never been there he let them know throughout the course that he was dwarven, and upon his death Corean would reward him for his resolve and loyalty to his kin and God. For a year Taklinn had endured malnourishment, torture, ridicule and hopelessness, bringing brought to the verge of death which must have seemed like a blessing at times, only to have the ultimate rest plucked away from him for the countless time.
The box, for it was a coffin he was caged in much of the time was opened for the first time in days, and Taklinn was released before a hulking man in a tent surrounded by flames of blue magic. His captors left him their, his old weapons and gear but a few feet to his left at the bidding of their chief.
“I am Gu’nark, son to the chief of the Blood Eye Clan. You dwarf have killed many of my warriors and endured more than any I have ever seen. Do not think my kind without compassion.” With that Gu’nark sneered a tusky grin. “I will give you a chance to win your freedom back. This war has carried on a long time, and my men require entertainment to keep their spirits bolstered while we continue the eradication of your dirt cousins.” The large man paced back and forth around a hole in the floor which led down into the icy depths of the earth itself, his hide armor stretched tight across his incredibly muscled frame; a halberd bearing a crescent moon blade held under one arm.
“You will be thrown into the Yeti caves --he points to the hole as he speaks,-- where you will be given your chance to escape, or feed our beasts. Either way you will have served your purpose and I will have the means to keep the troops appeased.”
Gu’nark looked at Taklinn and let out a deep hoarse laugh. “Not that you have much choice in the matter dwarf, but do try and last a little while? The longer you fight, the more my name will ring on as the greatest general of the clan.”
Gu’nark turned his back to Taklinn and began rifling through some items in a chest at the back of the tent. The orc was insulting Taklinn greatly, giving him his broad shoulders instead of his face. Surely he thought the Arctic Dwarf’s spirit had long ago been broken, but dwarves have long memories, and hold even longer grudges. There was a year's worth of torture and malice that need be repaid in full… and Taklinn hadn’t realized his knuckles turning whiter than snow as he clenched his fist in absolute hatred.
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 19:07:41.
Edited on 2007-08-17 at 19:12:52 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Three years have passed since the beginning of Return to Nomachron. ep[isode 2..
but Your characters have been in the war for just over 1 year.
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 17:38:21.
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Topic: The Chakran Portal - an Adventure in Audalis
Subject: Busy day
Thondrek, as they came across the woman calling to whomsoever lay within the tower looked to his companions and shrugged. He wondered if the stranger would garner a reply from the stone which stoicly took her commands as it did the elements. He also wondered if they should concern themselves in this matter, but his thoughts were clairfied as Loda, then Alyssia both piped up. Leaning on his guisarme he could only see how this conversation panned out.
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 17:33:45.
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Topic: The Chakran Portal - Q/A
Subject: Guess I should post in the 5 minutes of free time I've got today lol..
*Begins posting*
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 17:28:04.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Philo
character looks great.. welcome to Nomachron, and the q/a.. feel free to continue any discussions there.
Posted on 2007-08-17 at 14:10:34.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Iam so excited
Character ideas are really comming to life! Ican't wait to pop all thecomplete chariesin the q/a and get this game started!
Posted on 2007-08-16 at 20:35:01.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Leadership
Leadership is a fine feat to take, and will have the opportinity to come into play once the party /parties establish a HQ, though not at the present time.
Atharam's Leadership is already established through his roleplaying and past events rather than the feat though the game mechanics due affect those who take it.
Posted on 2007-08-16 at 20:11:35.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: some thoughts
your item Familiar seems incomplete, with stats not matching what I'm reading in the UA book. Here's alsoa link to the official SRD of Item Familiar. http://www.d20srd.org/srd/variant/magic/itemFamiliars.htm
You've got a +6 shield bonus, but a heavy shield is only +2.. and a +2 on a plus 2 is... 4.. not 6 lest my kindergarten teacher has lied to me all those years ago.. in which case I'm not turning 24 but rather... 72.. hmm damn i look good for my age 
I've no idea where Altress or Krath are ..since i didn't create them lol... but I understand the premise for the character... If you can somehow account for the fact that your charrie is thousands of miles from home in a war that doesn't convern them... by all means I'll add another nation to the e'er growing map 
Posted on 2007-08-16 at 20:09:22.
Edited on 2007-08-16 at 20:22:54 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms (Mature)
Subject: Heroes and Heralds
The architecture fell with each passing day until there had been hardly anything dotting the landscape but rubble and death. The war had ravaged the entire countryside, staining the once rich earth a deep crimson as more and more bodies fell. The Emerald Horde –as it would come to be known – outnumbered the defenders ten to one when the battle began, and though their numbers were great, Trice and its allies fought for something far greater than glory, bounty or conquest, they fought for their very survival. Now, with each building that toppled; a tower of corpses was erected in its place, the stench of death and decay blanketing the battlefield like winters first snow.
Ironically, first snow had come early casting its chilling white flakes over the landscape providing a stunning contrast to the heat of battle –and the many pyres which burned constantly day and night, fueled by the bodies of the fallen. What once had been an organized defense now lay as scattered skirmishes and encounters with the enemy which swarmed the once proud streets of Trice and the countryside surrounding it. A sea of enemy banners waved in the cool autumn air, a seemingly insurmountable force of evil marching on, and over mankind’s last defiant stand.
High atop a nearby hilltop once renowned for its pristine view of the countryside now laid a group of combatants locked in deadly combat. Sparks flew as steel met steel, and cries of battle, bloodlust, and pain echoed all around.
Atharam, Paorn, Donia, and Tai-Laan had worked amongst their peers for over a year now; their training and teamwork had kept them alive. But even now it seemed like their skills would be outmatched by sheer numbers. Trice’s protective walls now lay under enemy control, and the heroes had found themselves lost in a sea of evil, tossed about by wave after wave of terrifying enemies. They had fallen back a little at a time, giving the enemy more and more of their precious homeland not through cowardice but decisiveness. Trying to salvage Trice now was suicidal, and each still bore the memories from the carnage of Stratford some years prior, where hasty decisions had cost the lives of many.
It had been decided that they would make for the Nabaresh, where they could once more reunite with King Nabar and his clan. Surely the dwarves would have withstood the onslaught in their fortified tunnels better than Trice’s grand walls?
~~~
For weeks the companions made their way to the north, along with a small detachment of survivors. The others consisted of two Alerian soldiers named Arlan and Raymond, one Trician field medic named Hope, seven civilians including elderly, women, and children and a very interesting character by the name of Drake; an Alerian Pirate who had joined the war seeking booty and fame, and was probably now wishing he had never stepped foot off the The Saucy Wench and onto dry land. The Horde was always quickly upon their trail, it was rare to last a quarter-cycle without some sort of skirmish of some sort, and everyone bore the scars of a battle hard fought. Even the civilians bore scars of battle, farming implements and other non militant weapons of opportunity wielded for security. Everyone knew this was a matter of survival, everyone was frightened, but they firmly believed they would make it through this, for they had Atharam protecting them. His demeanor even in the face of terror quelled their desire to flee into obscurity, into probable death or enslavement. The Mithril Knight bore an aura of courage about him which all around him took comfort him, and he in turn took comfort in those around him for that same strength.
It was night after a hard forced march. Rations were low considering the number of people to spread them amongst, but thankfully Paorn and Donia both had means to supplement nourishment. No fire would be lit this chilled eve; it would only serve to give away their position. They would reach the looming Nabaresh on the morrow and the God’s willing there would be a place for them there.
The night crawled along at a snails pace, each moment an eternity as paranoia and caution plagued anyone from gathering a full nights rest. It was only a couple hours into the respite when the solid wail Donia’s alarm spell went off, waking everyone to the presence of an intruder.
A light, faint at first but growing steadily in size began to swirl and form a portal just outside of the group’s encampment. Dark purple bolts of lightning crackled and shot out at random intervals along its expanding edge, and soon it stood as high as a man… and kept growing. The portal continued its expansion, and though Donia tried, she could not dispel the otherworldly doorway. When the portal reached almost twelve feet in height, it exploded in a flash of violet light, leaving a horror in its wake.
Standing before them stood the hulking 12-foot frame of a creature which looked like a cross between a manticore and a giant; one of Vangal’s own dark race. Her build is adorned with filth encrusted armor, lending her a likeness similar to Vangal himself. Her face is human, but her teeth are twisted fangs, capable of tearing through leather with ease. Her twisted claws look ready to rake anything and everyone with ease, but most threatening is massive greatsword she bears, its length shimmering in a dark violet glow, heretical runes of power etched along the blade.
Paorn remembers something about the herald’s of the Dark God, something much more important than the fact that these creature’s once served as the generals of Vangal in the divine war against the Titans. He remembers that after the war the shattered remnants of Vangal’s army were cast into the abyss, as was privy to the god of apocalypse’s way. For the last century and a half they have waited, repairing their shattered spirit and if now they too were returning to the material world. Truly all hell had broken loose. Paorn also knows there is something really important he should remember about that Fellblade the Herald carries, but for the life of him cannot bring the knowledge to bear.
(Information garnered from Knowledge religion Checks)
Without warning she begins her approach, her feral eyes aglow in the night, and as she nears pair of children see her nightmarish vision… and scream.
Posted on 2007-08-16 at 15:25:56.
Edited on 2007-08-17 at 21:44:12 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms (Mature)
Subject: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms (Mature)
Epitaph of Revival
By the time the last blow had been struck, and the smoke and ash had settled, the world as we knew it had all but disappeared. ~ Flint Sorrowsong: Elven Minstrel Day of Reckoning, 2512AL
It was out of that same smoke and ash that the city states comprised of the survivors of the Titans/Divine War upon the Eastern Continent scattered and erected a triumvirate of power on all sides of their land . In the Northwest, under the extended shadows of the Nabaresh Mountains arose the settlement of Formidia, under the leadership of a stonemason named Aradan Trice VII, while in the South, Ravenswood was formed, ruled by an Enchantress only known as the Emerald Lady. Lancôme arose in the Northeast governed by a trading guild of some notoriety. As the settlements grew in size and prosperity, Aradan was elected to be the first King of the new empire, and Thus Trice was born. The Emerald Lady on the other hand, fortified the natural border presented by the thick briars separating the two regions, and Ravenswood all but fell off the radar for some time.
Trice on the other hand, became the figurehead for the entire Midwest. Villages sprang up around the growing kingdom, and with each passing day more and more refugees filed through the city gates. In a decade, the Kingdom had erected stone walls mined from the nearby mountains and the population had grown to over 100,000 people. An alliance with Lancôme was formed and both kingdoms flourished, and King Aradan VII watched in adoration of his people who had fought so hard to survive, as businesses and new opportunities appeared within his great walls.
King Aradan had figured that behind their walls nothing save the God’s would bring harm to the people of Trice… and he was right—for the next years at least. It was in the year 2512 that disaster sought to strike. From below they had struck, the drow instigating a conflict that would ravage the lands. Commanding vast forces of lesser races—which were anything other than a drow in their minds—brutally attacked the kingdom of Lancôme, sending the populous scattering. Like cattle to the slaughter, most of Lancôme was herded right into the monstrous horde that awaited them. While the horde moved unhindered throughout Lancôme, a small group of strangers, brought together by destiny emerged, joined by a single cause; survival. The group went unknown for the longest time to both sides of the war, facing against great dangers and untold perilous adventures… but that is another tale.
So it had come that with the mustered forces of the Under-mountain stacked against them, Trice’s walls had began to falter. The forces entered the city and the walls that were meant to protect the populous served as a cage to entrap them. Were it not for the arrival of those strangers, and the selfless sacrifice of the Celestial Prism Sera Stormender whose divine light eradicated the darkness, Trice would have fallen that day. But Trice did not fall, and the walls were built taller and stronger, the defenses improved and raised higher, with Lancôme falling under the Trician banner to extend the Kingdom’s influence across the continent.
And so life grew on, the Crossroad’s, a mercantile epicenter was formed between The City of Lancôme and The City of Trice, and as old gave way into new with the passing of the throne from Aradan VII to Aradan VIII new opportunities arose. The new king was young and full of ambition, he sought to expand Trice’s reach beyond what it had already possessed, and marched in the year of 2572 upon the borders of Ravenswood in an unprecedented invasion. Ravenswood however was not without its eyes and ears however, and Aradan’s invasion force was thoroughly repelled, crippled, with many left for dead including the King himself; leaving his 11 year old son to take the throne. It is said that in the briar fields where the battle raged now grows a rose for every soldier slain, and thus was given the name The War of the Roses. In retaliation to the invasion the Emerald Lady mustered a counter offensive, and were it not for Trice’s pact with a Dragon nested in the nearby Nabaresh, the poorly manned Trice would have been hard pressed against the Lizard riders of the south. What of the dragon?; again, that is another folktale that need not be spun here and now.
What is important however is this. King Aradan IX was a young king, an idealistic king, but one endowed with a patience and wisdom far surpassing his father. It was he who established relations with the reclusive elves of the Mirrorwood, and he who established the trade routes to the Nabaresh to bring new stone and dwarven goods into the kingdom. A merchant at heart, the kindly King of Trice formed what is now known as the Council of Six, with each of his trusted ministers handling affairs under his watchful eye. It is under the reign of King Aradan IX of Trice that I find myself today.
And from the rabble arose a testament to human defiance. For in each stone of the great walls is the story of the countless lives who fought to place it there, and of the sheer determination to survive that would carry them through generations to come.
~Flint Sorrowsong: Elven Minstrel, 11th of Stave, 2610 AL
Epitaph of Tears
It has been three years since the horde swept across the countryside converting or consuming everything in its path. Villages and nations burned, entire bloodlines were erased from history and the earth was stained a deep crimson. Trice fought to the very end, every man woman and child of the great kingdom took up arms when necessary and refused to surrender as it had done so countless times before. Unlike before however, the greatest threat to the kingdom lay not outside its massive walls but within.
~Flint Sorrowsong: Elven Minstrel, 12th of Stave, 2617 AL
The Council of Six will forever be heralded as words of blasphemy, interlaced with vulgarity and spoken with only the utmost of hatred and sorrow. In what has come to be known as the War of Betrayal, it was the Council, either in part or as a whole who let down Trice’s defenses while the Emerald Lady, along with the Blood Eye Clan, and the Black Claw Mercenary guild riding alongside her banner assaulted the Capital’s great walls. The enchanted ramparts had done well to deflect the boulders and spells flung by Ogre or wizard, the forces of Trice resolved to wait out this war safely behind their sturdy walls as they had countless times in the past. For months they lasted, spells flung from on high, aerial attacks mounted on the backs of Giant Eagles laying waste to the enemy forces below, it seemed as though this war of attrition would end in Trice’s favor…
Then disaster struck…
One night, without warning the massive drawbridge which severed the armies of the South and the populous of Trice was lowered, bridging the gap and circumventing the great walls. Lord Mortricus, the Archmage of Trice and leader of the Arcane Consortium was summoned immediately to rectify and reinforce his protective wards, but never answered the plea. He and the other members of the council had vanished into the night, the greatest heroes and advisors to the king having abandoned the kingdom to its fate. It was only a matter of time then that once more history had repeated itself, and the great walls of Trice served not as a field of protection, but a cage in which all within found themselves trapped; at the mercy of the monstrosities which stormed through, blood and ichors filling their eyes reflecting their hunger for murder.
The city fell ward by ward, the allied forces being pushed back to the Castle itself until one last desperate stand off was made. It was humanity’s final hour, and that hour ended in darkness, bloodshed and the eradication of the finest kingdom Nomachron history had ever known…
Posted on 2007-08-16 at 15:23:43.
Edited on 2007-08-16 at 16:17:47 by Kaelyn
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Topic: A song that I wrote
Subject: not a mistake
glad to see some more lyricists around here! Was beginning to think the only songs posted here were mine or Alacrity's parodies to classics lol. I find myself tapping along an apparent rhythm while reading, and hope you'll grace us with more!
Posted on 2007-08-15 at 22:11:49.
Edited on 2007-08-16 at 14:05:03 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: This should be really interesting..
I know Atharam has a distinct aversion to orcish blood, heck everyone really does considering the fact that almost all the tribes havebonded in war to trample the continent. You're 1/2 orc DD should prove really interesting Philo, i look forward to seeing itcomplete.
One thing. though I think where you have sickle you mean Scythe? Sickle being the one handed version of the sCythe. hehe in Noldaria i play a half orc scythe wielding charrie. this is bemusing to me.
Posted on 2007-08-15 at 22:10:15.
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Topic: The Chakran Portal - Q/A
Subject: I am not here..
you cannot see me.. er ok so I'm busy psting to a ton o stuff right now... but Chakran's in there too!
Posted on 2007-08-15 at 18:01:26.
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Topic: Beneath Shadowed Skies...
Subject: The bonds of family... can be painful
Kälte stood rather than sat in the private room booked at the top of the Blazing Heretic. Something about having a room full of strangers about her did little to ease her nerves, and she knew her height gave her an intimidating image she chose to flaunt on a regular basis. The details of the mission were stated by a well dressed man, and Kälte couldn’t help but wonder what power and influence this Zantrical organization actually had backing them. As she pocketed her sealed parchment, stuffing it into the belt loop of her revealing leathers she took the time to cast her gaze over everyone in attendance. There were warriors both male and female, a servant of some faith she cared little for, a wraith of a girl who belonged more at Madam Von Helson’s than in an expedition by her choice of dress, and a curious little creature sat perched atop the back of one of the lavish chairs.
As introductions were made, Kälte made note of each member’s words, their connotations and body language, as well as physical appearance. She wondered if Raen was as strong a woman as Kälte behind all that armor, and if Herendiel would make a delightful popping sound if she squeezed him hard enough. The dwarf was of little concern to Kälte, and she didn’t look twice at Basque or Celene. Her eyes fell upon the strange one, Vyarp as he introduced himself.
“My name is Vyarp Longtooth, of the tribe of the Twisted Horn. If you need a trapper, scout, knife fighter or archer then I’m your man.” Uncomfortably aware of so many eyes upon him and regretting the last word already, Vyarp sank to a crouch atop the chair seat, ready to spring for the window should it become necessary.
“Little one do not be so quick to feel the need to respect the title of ‘man’” and she spoke of the gender with little respect. “You are of the world, and the world of you. Leave the men to their ways and delusions of superiority, your kind have been round since before our forefathers, and will likely live to dance upon our bones if man is left unchecked.”
“Kobold,” hissed Raen, though not moving forward as Vyarp crouched on his chair. “What business do you have here? Which band of thieves cut throats to send you on this task?”
Kälte turned her attention to the other female warrior, who already brandished a weapon in the confines of a would-be-diplomatic introductory meeting. “Violence in the peace tent, no matter the structure is heretical. Would you curse this voyage before it begins by so hastily spilling blood?” Kälte slipped a javelin from her back quiver and thumbed it between her fingers. She knew what she spoke was hypocritical given her rash and aggressive nature, but she had traveled too far and dealt with too much crap already to have this partnership crushed before the bonds were even forged.
The scholar tipped his pipe and spoke words befitting a man partaking of troll-weed, and she couldn’t be entirely sure this one wasn’t. He was calm, collected; entertaining in his easiness but that unsettled the barbarian woman on a level she couldn’t currently place.
“The half-breed speaks the truth. If we’re to travel together their needs to be a level of trust.” Kälte removed her javelin and twirled it nonchalantly. “If that means playing big sister and beating that trust into you, then by all means step up and lets get down to the nitty gritty.”
(Kalte will make it very plain in her stance that should Raen make a motion towards Vyarp, she'll have to go through her first. OOC: to speed things up in the instance she does. Kalte will throw the javelin into the ground at Raen's feet as a warning, and draw her great-axe instead, shaking her head like Raen's making a big mistake. Nice RP start guys Having a blast!)
Posted on 2007-08-15 at 02:33:06.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Philo
I'm happy to see it comming to fruition.. I'll check it again tomorrow night/ afternoon/ whenever.. Look forward to seeing them all come in. The opening is pretty much done save for throwing in character names and such. Should be a great start this weekend!
Posted on 2007-08-15 at 01:45:47.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: dork
rewrite him if necessary keeping to the new character limits with Rennek's history in mind.
Posted on 2007-08-14 at 23:13:49.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: Here or pm is fine
i'll transfer it to the Q/a as they come in.
Posted on 2007-08-14 at 20:53:49.
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Topic: Chat?
Subject: Chat's acting up again
constantly being booted whenever someone else tries to enter it would seem.
Posted on 2007-08-13 at 14:35:14.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: There will be a chance for inventory additions/ changes in game..
once the opening begins, you'll have opportunities for inventory switches providing availability and finances Grugg.
Posted on 2007-08-13 at 14:30:48.
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Topic: Dim Lights of Sharn - Eberron
Subject: I'm not here to defeat you.. only distract you..
"You fools! No human filth can defeat Groar, the unkillable!" His eyes seem to turn red and his muscular arms grow even more. Groar takes his blade far back and gets ready for a great and powerful swing. The great orc gives out a powerful yell as the blade makes its way towards Nel, cutting through a single stool without the slightest pause. A single person would die should he be struck by this swing, but luckily enough Nel was ready for it. The sword cuts through the air where Nel once stood, only an inch or two above Nel as she dodged it. The blade stops instantly where Groar wants it. His eyes are completely red, and even his greenish skin has taken on a slight red color. His anger is boiling as Nel raises herself up again.
Nel rose calmly, the swift and perfectly controlled blade of Groar parting the air a mere inch from the top of her pretty little head., Her short sword tilted, its fine sheen reflecting the lantern light across Groar's less than handsome features. "Sugar one of these days you Daask will learn that brute strength and bad breath alone won't solve your problems." With that she fell back into a defensive nature (-3 ATK +3 AC utilizing Combat Expertise) and made a cunning feint which would allow her to hopefully catch the orc off guard, striking a vital spot as her blade danced deceptively in for her first attack.
(Nel will be using improved feint to try and Deny Groar his dex in case she's fighting alone this next round, though hopefully she'll have additional atk bonuses due to flanking.)
Posted on 2007-08-13 at 14:24:42.
Edited on 2007-08-13 at 14:28:18 by Kaelyn
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: lvl 10
New hp, new skill points, possible abilitiy basedon class. inventory stays the same. New spells though Paorn.. glad to have him back.
FRIDAY DEADLINE PEOPLE!
Please try and work with me to get all characters in by then.
Posted on 2007-08-13 at 02:34:41.
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Topic: The Chakran Portal - an Adventure in Audalis
Subject: Thondrek
Thondrek scoffed at the Guard's look towards his beard, and the animal companions many of his coterie had with them. "Bah, ye wear armor just the same as we, and smell a tad ripe yerself. T'would do you wise ta peel it off and wash what lay underneath, lest the disease fester b'tween your britches and leave ye with a nasty case o the rotten apples if'n ye be catchin my drift. We have seen what this mystery plague can do, and ye not be wantin to catch it."
Thondrek admitted that it might seem inappropriate to enter the town while his companions waited outside, but it had been a long time since provisions and supplies could be replenished, and he had thoughts about what to acquire brewing in his head. "I'll be gettin me throat wet and packs stuffed anew, but I'll hurry upon it, lest Loda or Malius suffer anymore indignation in wait. I shall hurry to acquire what may see us forward in days ahead. I shall tarry not long."
With that Thondrek proceeds to attempt to complete his shopping list and take in a tankard of ale before returning.
Posted on 2007-08-12 at 08:26:52.
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Topic: Champions of Nomachron: Return to Arms
Subject: I could...
If ye be hellbent on a Psionic Character, I'll delve into my dusty and underused EPH and pull forth my knowledge from it.
Posted on 2007-08-12 at 08:21:01.
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
