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Peacemonger

Peacemonger

Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Game McHolyGrail IIIModri

Hill Dwarf Outlander Wild Magic Barbarian


AC: 17 (+1Dex + 4Con + 2Shield ) | HP: 75/75 (5d12+20+10+5) | Speed: 25'
Senses: passive Perception 11, Insight 11, Investigation 10
Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 13 (+1) | Con: 18 (+4) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Dwarvish, Elvish

Wild Surge Rages: 3/3 | Magic Awareness: 2/2

Darkvision 60' | Dwarven Resilience | Stonecunning | Unarmored Defense | Danger Sense | Reckless Attack | Extra Attack | Fast Movement


“My words,” Modri said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Modri thought. | My actions . . .


Modri is restless on their way back. It is a tense walk, and Modri can feel it in his gut that if they run across a real dangerous foe... it's likely to be his end. And that's fine... at least it should've been.

Bah! This is what I've hoped for isn't it? A foe that can truly best me? To live by being willing to die? So why am I...

Something about dying in the dark isn't satisfying. No... it's something else. It's these people he's traveling with. It's still wanting to do his part, more of his part, to fight off this Red Dragon Army. It's seeing Ser Michelle... Dame Michelle? Lady Michelle? He isn't sure on the titles any more, never cared before, and only slightly cares now. Well, only slightly cares about the title. He does want to see her thrive. Wants to see her proud and strong again only on their side. Wants to help her through it.

He thinks he may understand what's bothering him.

Like Coltan, he is fast asleep as soon as he's in his room. A part of his does want to stop by and see Michelle, but work first. He makes a rare point to clean himself up, make sure the wounds don't get infected, and tries to clean off all the blood, only half of it his, on himself. As they get new updates, he is contemplative, his normal quiet self during most meetings on politics and strategy, though he does seem to be paying far more attention. To Cudgel he offers a solemn nod, though he's very glad to see her as well. Never a leader himself, he cannot begin to imagine the pain she must being feeling, and dares not even insult her by trying. Everyone has her journey, Cudgel included.

As their help is requested, Modri gives a big grin, and his fully himself again. "Ahar! Wouldn't dream not to! You're one of the few nobles I not only like, but think is good for the people to have you in the role. And you, Darrett, I thought you a bit of an above average warrior, and you've far exceeded! Just tell me when to be ready by, and I'll take care of any all business beforehand."

 

It is with the business affairs done, that he stands ready for a serious conversation. His face shows a degree of uncertainty, his own thoughts undecided until he hears people out.

 

OOC

I don’t always put OOC content in my posts, but when I do, I put it in here.

 

Peacemonger

Peacemonger

Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Game McHolyGrail IIIModri

Hill Dwarf Outlander Wild Magic Barbarian


AC: 17 (+1Dex + 4Con + 2Shield ) | HP: 75/75 (5d12+20+10+5) | Speed: 25'
Senses: passive Perception 11, Insight 11, Investigation 10
Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 13 (+1) | Con: 18 (+4) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Dwarvish, Elvish

Wild Surge Rages: 3/3 | Magic Awareness: 2/2

Darkvision 60' | Dwarven Resilience | Stonecunning | Unarmored Defense | Danger Sense | Reckless Attack | Extra Attack | Fast Movement


“My words,” Modri said. | ‘My thoughts,’ Modri thought. | My actions . . .


Modri is restless on their way back. It is a tense walk, and Modri can feel it in his gut that if they run across a real dangerous foe... it's likely to be his end. And that's fine... at least it should've been.

Bah! This is what I've hoped for isn't it? A foe that can truly best me? To live by being will to die? So why am I...

Something about dying in the dark isn't satisfying. No... it's something else. It's these people he's traveling with. It's still wanting to do his part, more of his part, to fight off this Red Dragon Army. It's seeing Ser Michelle... Dame Michelle? Lady Michelle? He isn't sure on the titles any more, never cared before, and only slightly cares now. Well, only slightly cares about the title. He does want to see her thrive. Wants to see her proud and strong again only on their side. Wants to help her through it.

He thinks he may understand what's bothering him.

Like Coltan, he is fast asleep as soon as he's in his room. A part of his does want to stop by and see Michelle, but work first. He makes a rare point to clean himself up, make sure the wounds don't get infected, and tries to clean off all the blood, only half of it his, on himself. As they get new updates, he is contemplative, his normal quiet self during most meetings on politics and strategy, though he does seem to be paying far more attention. To Cudgel he offers a solemn nod, though he's very glad to see her as well. Never a leader himself, he cannot begin to imagine the pain she must being feeling, and dares not even insult her by trying. Everyone has her journey, Cudgel included.

As their help is requested, Modri gives a big grin, and his fully himself again. "Ahar! Wouldn't dream not to! You're one of the few nobles I not only like, but think is good for the people to have you in the role. And you, Darrett, I thought you a bit of an above average warrior, and you've far exceeded! Just tell me when to be ready by, and I'll take care of any all business beforehand."

 

It is with the business affairs done, that he stands ready for a serious conversation. His face shows a degree of uncertainty, his own thoughts undecided until he hears people out.

 

OOC

I don’t always put OOC content in my posts, but when I do, I put it in here.

 

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