I do have a bit of bad news for you guys; my laptop’s internet connection has quite literally broken; so... I’m gonna be limited for the next few days. I’m expecting a new PC soon, so hopefully I won’t be out of commission for too long; I’ll try to keep things going, but I’m limited to my iPhone rn.
You can trust us not to blow anything up! Whats the worst that can happen in company like this? Two humans, an aarakocra, a dragonborn, a kobold, and a dwarf? All in a bar together.
That subtle amber hue behind that cowel’s eyelets flickered for a moment as the pupil passed to look back down the road. Vaal was certainly listening to the Dwarf’s story, as evidence by a brief moment where he had stopped in place and lagged behind visibly. The Kobold made a quick inhale and recovered from his misstep by moving once more.
“Then it -is- a vendetta. One of the ten fools. But one I sympathise. A story of loss that I feel is shared between you and I… if the lust for blood is not.” The kobold drawled in that distinct accent of his. He tilted his head thoughtfully. Trying to recall the events exactly. The majority of it was foggy. Like it was all in some sort of drunken haze. But he definitely remembered the agony and screams with full clarity. And he was lacking a voice for some reason.
Surprising how that was one of the few things that was easy for him to remember over the course of a year or two. Had it been a year? Longer? Storms… he needed to get better at tracking the time.
"I used to be much more grand than I currently am... you see! I sailed the skies like an ocean, and I was the master of my own sea. The strata in the desert sand was a privilege few enjoyed. I even had a love. It was an oddity, and one I knew would not last as the wheel of time turns. But I adored and treasured her. But nothing lasts as long as we wish. Being that grand... you attract enemies in a world that plays for keeps. Against my better judgement, I gave an honor-less cretin mercy. A fatal mistake. A mistake I dare not to repeat for any creature again. All I had, stolen away by that single damned black dragon."
The Kobold gave a wave of the hand. A small... uncharacteristic gust blew through the air, blowing a leaf from the ground upwards to the kobold. His hand swiped it from the air where it hung for a second. Small blue sparks jutting from his scales. His balled fist wriggled, letting ashes fall now.
"And now... I am-as I am. A tiny wayward, though fabulous, vegabond. Those memories just a hazy dream. Gone with the wind like ashes over embers. And should I have such power, I'd annihilate kingdoms and worlds to have it all back."
He seemed to smolder with an intensity for a few seconds. Looking wistfully to nothing. But his body seemed to... jar before he returned to reality. His tone held some black humor, but the optimism sounded a tad off. A kobold reaching, to not completely lose himself in what he fear may be insanity. His accent became significantly worse thanks to his sped up words. It had even developed a rhythmic cadence as he spoke. " But for now, I am a creature who'd be lucky enough to live another year before being cut down by an adventuring bloke with an axe. Not even a proper axe. The new perspective does have benefits however. Fortune prick me. I am enjoying certain things I never could. And the oppressive feeling of time running short has an... excitement. Now then, your dragon."
The kobold raised a tiny claw up to his jaws. His index finger pushed past his lips and tapped habitually at his teeth while he thought.
“Your search is a tad off, dawi. My memory is hardly worth calling trustworthy, but I do not use the term ‘Putrid Savage’ lightly. Where the water rots and the air fetid, is where they sleep.” His tone over the black dragons certainly had not changed the more he talked about him. There was even a faint trace of the beginnings of a snarl that died in seconds.
His gaze turned up to the dragonborn cook, as if wondering the woman had anything to add. Before turning back to the dwarf. He then shook his head slowly. “If I could remember more, I am not likely to share. If death was the worst to be given, the tale to be told would be different. For the jack of the night is kind. But tis not, tis their only mercy. I would not knowingly weave another’s fate into such a horrid augur.”
Vaal Storm Touched, By the Grace of the Winds, Weaver of the Highstorms, Harold of Thunder, Scourge of Kites, Guider of Ships, the Grand Gem of the Fakhara most certainly did not act like his kin. He held a Kobold’s healthy paranoia, yes… but that was probably the only thing he held in similarity to the rest of the scaled lot.
He held no complaints about moving in the day, and even wore a special drape over his snout and eyes to help him deal with such limitations of his species. He did not act like a wayward waif, but curiously royalty. Vaal took great care of his apperances, polishing his scales, washing and carefully cleaning his clothing. He’s aware of his vulnerability and general weakness, but despises it more than fears it. And death? Well, however he views it, it certainly isn’t kobold like.
He did not march like a soldier, or scurry like a scavenger, but seemingly stride with a strut… if anyone could recognize such a movement from a Kobold. But there was an undeniable grace to his steps. The only time he was not so graceful through the trip, was when he was riding on the back of one of the horses..
The kobold was quite certain that they did this more out of humor, than a kindness when it was his turn. He had never rode a horse before this point. And it was an… interesting experience. It was that first time sensation of letting something else that is alive be in charge of your legs. And those legs being far too large for your own body. And with the little blue creature weighing no more than a saddle bag, he was easily bucked around with just a mere step. It certainly did not help when his claws could not reach the stirrups. And there was also that scent. It wasn’t a bad, unpleasant scent. It just smelled of… well horse. And when his turn was over, he’d be all too eager to get off the beast of burden. Each turn left him sore and irritable. His tail felt like it had been wrench and bent at an angle it wasn’t supposed to be, and his pelvis repeatedly smashed with a rock. Never mind how stretch the muscles of his inner thigh felt. He’d much rather walk with his own legs. But the two humans seemed to insist that everyone had a turn.
And so there Vaal was, sauntering with a leisurely pace. His legs working quickly to keep up with the taller humans, though he did not seem all that winded by the exertion. His shourded amber eyes peered over the countryside. He couldn’t really find anything particularly admirable about it. Most cases, everything looked rather the same. Or rather he had traveled far and long, and had seen most of the mundane parts of the world. Though… it might help if the sunlight didn’t feel as if it was trying to set his eyes ablaze. Eventually, the creature had to tear his gaze away from the horizon. His claws moving underneath the decorative shawl to wipe the tears away from his eyes. Soon, it wasn’t long before he heard the Dwarf and Dragonborn conversing.
The Kobold picked up speed, his legs taking much longer strides till he was practically skipping. He slipped underneath the horse easy to come closer to the two.
“A Black Dragon,” the kobold drawled inquisitively. The accent to his common seems to consist of words slurred in a breathy fashion. Even with the way he punches each words at the start, the way his tempo shifts subtly in certain parts of the sentence makes it a tad difficult to catch. “Darling, what vile and festering vendeta compels a dawi to seek the ilk of a putrid savage?” The tone in his words made it quite clear. This kobold had no love for black dragons, and simply meant his words as an insult, rather than a way to glorify the acidic dragons.
Vaal’s head dipped up and down as he took in the dwarf as a whole. As if the bearded man’s appearance alone could tell a story where words have yet. In truth… he hadn’t actually taken the time to get a good look at any of the party. The sun was constantly in his eyes, and the forced march simply beat the energy right out of him. From what he could see… the dwarf was a soldier of fortune. Yet he didn’t quite hold that grim-dark look of a man who had done dark things… jovial? He inhaled deeply then breathed out a thoughtful “Aaaah…”
His head slowly turning to the side to bring give one of his eyes a much clearer view of the dwarf. The amber hue just barely visible behind the dark cloth of his shawl’s eyelets. “Perhaps that was a silly question… their games are obvious and child like. Cruel, unnecessary, and they certainly leave their toys… in an unfit state. Tell me, dawi, what do you intend when you find your quarry?”
Mage Armor casted at the start of the day. AC is now 16 for 8hrs.
I can definitely get everything done except for the writing sample in that timeframe! I've been stumped on what to write for it honestly, but I'll try to have something up with the rest of the sheet by then.
Read other's character sheets for some inspiration!
