The Adventures of a Clumsy Elf

Hello there.  Crazy times, wot?

For the past couple of weeks I've been privileged enough to gather with some friends (virtually) and play some D&D, which I haven't had a chance to do since before The Young Master was born (literally the last time a regular game was suggested was the day I was bringing him home from the hospital.  Obviously I wasn't available.)

Anyway it's been desperately good for my soul, and I've been having so much fun playing and writing up little recaps for friends who expressed an interest to live vicariously through me, that I thought I'd share them here.  Because it's been a while since I've been around, and I thought I should prove that (to quote a good and right but not nice woman) I aten't ded.

Some context: when my DM suggested this game and told us to create Level Two characters ("Level One is boring and dangerous," he wisely opined), I decided I wanted to play a Druid, which I've never done.  And I wanted to be an elf, which I've only ever done one other time (which is... weird, considering my lifelong obsession with that species).  And, just for the hell of it, I decided to roll my stats up rather than going with the default numbers.  Mostly this worked out to my benefit, except for one glaring exception:

I rolled a 2 for Dexterity.  Out of a possible 20.

That's... not good.  To put it mildly.

Picture it this way- a "normal" amount of Dexterity (Dex) would give you a 10.  Elves, being naturally graceful, get to add +2 to that, so they're generally a 12 or better.  And thank goodness for that extra two points, because that means I ended up with a Dex score of 4, which means I only have to subtract -3 from any rolls that require dexterity (like, for example, sneaking), instead of -4.  Which, for those of you making the same face I used to make when I was learning how to do RPG math (and still do, some sessions), means that any time I roll that 20-sided die (d20), I have to come up with a 13 (or better) just to not-fail at whatever I'm trying.  (Whereas if I had the "normal elf" Dex 12, I'd get a +1 to my roll, and only have to roll 9 or better to succeed.  Math!)

The other major issue is that low Dex gives you a low Armor Class (AC), making it super easy for bad guys to hit you.  In the game, a person wearing normal clothes has an AC of 11.  Leather or wooden armor (because D&D Druids won't wear metal) gives you +2.  Which (combined with that -3) means I have an AC of 10, which makes me easier to damage than your average, unarmored humanoid.  It's like I'm naked.  But on the outside.

So yeah, Clumsy Elf.  And when I decided to run with that rather than re-rolling it (a weird combination of integrity and sheer bloody-minded curiosity), her Backstory leaped into my head, practically fully-formed.  I made her young- really young, even by human standards (14 but pretending to be 17 and fooling exactly no one)- as a way to help explain the clumsiness (with the hope that eventually I'll level her up enough to have her "grow out" of some of it).  I had her run away from home to prove herself (her twin brother is sort of a hunting prodigy), and I gave her a Bear form (along with wolf and squirrel) because that's what gives her the confidence (hubris) that she can totally handle herself out in the wider world!  (The type of Druid I chose for Clumsy Elf can turn into any animal that they see, with certain exceptions.  For example, I'm pretty low-level right now, so nothing that flies or swims, and I made my own personal rule that she has to have time to actually study it up close: nothing running away.  [Facing it in combat, however, counts.]  The DM & I decided to start me off with only three animals, since he was having to create additional tokens/stat sheets for each one, and I love my DM and don't want him to suffer unnecessarily.  I mean, not too much.  Anyway, my head-canon is that Clumsy Elf can take on plenty of other forms, but these three are her go-to for Adventuring.)

Shall we?

***
SESSION ONE (which was cut short by technical difficulties)

Our Merry Band (Druid Elf, Fighter Dwarf, Rogue Human) set off in search of a number of macguffins, the first three of which were to be found at the top of a 75 foot cliff. I took one look at it and knew my clumsy self would fall to my death if I attempted to climb it in my normal elfin form, so I immediately changed into a squirrel and scampered up my allowable 30 feet. DM had me do a stealth check, but since I was a freaking squirrel I passed it easy-peasy. There were a lot of squirrel-sized holes in the cliff face, so as my companions began their respective climbs I stuck my head in one to see what I could perceive (ie smell). I was hoping for something like an internal staircase we could climb, but all I got was a snootful of "something lives in here". I pulled my head back out and made my biggest mistake of the game:

I sneezed to clear my nose.

Then I continued my climb, only to be attacked by flying freaking snakes, who are apparently really sensitive to sound. The others found themselves likewise engaged, and let me tell you those snakes did not get the memo that this was supposed to be a level one adventure. I immediately took enough damage to knock me out of squirrel form, but I miraculously managed to save myself from plummeting 50 feet to my death. My human rogue comrade was less lucky, and ended up decking into unconsciousness (which, if you've never played, is so super annoying because then you just have to keep making "please don't die" rolls while the rest of the party keeps fighting, and even if you manage to "not die", you're only stabilized, not actually up and fighting again). The dwarven fighter clung to the cliff with one hand and smote a stupid snake with the other, as you do when you're a bad ass.

And me? I was so pissed that I turned into a bear, killed one of the two snakes targeting me with a bite, and then scrambled up to a ledge where I let out a "You wanna dance?!" roar that drew most of they other snakes away from my comrades towards my suddenly much higher hit point (HP) self.

And then I got bit a lot, but between me and the dwarf we killed the remaining snakes and I climbed back down, changed forms, and force fed the human some magic berries that healed her up enough to move.

But then I was stuck back at the bottom of the cliff, unable to do any more transforming until I got a four hour rest. Whomp whomp.

The dwarf (who had managed to get to a ledge, herself) threw down some rope to help us climb, which I comically failed to do (imagine That Kid on Rope Climbing Day in Gym Class). But I'm nothing if not determined, so I tried again and just barely made it. So then we were about 35 ft up and thank goodness the hermit we were trying to go see took pity on us and dropped down another rope to help us up the rest of the way. And then he fed us and I tried (and failed) to find a marmot so that I could add that to my "shape library".

But hey- at least now I have flying snake! (if I ever level up enough to take a flying form...)

SESSION TWO

After bearly (::cough::) surviving our encounter with the flying snakes, The Bumble Buddies headed up river to the creepy-creepy spider’s cave hidden behind a waterfall, in search of the next batch of macguffins.  I started to blithely enter the cave, then checked myself ‘fore I wrecked myself, and invited the actually-sneaky Human Rogue to go in my stead (but not until I’d made enough Clumsy Elf noise to alert the resident kobolds! Winning at Adventuring!).  She went ahead but again- there was no undoing my noisiness, and she found herself faced with a bunch of high-alert kobolds.  I told her to be cool and see if we could maybe not fight these guys.  After a bit of back and forth (with our Dwarven Fighter sensibly staying out of sight so that there was at least some element of surprise, should we need it) we finally asked, “What would it take for us to just sort of come in, find what we need, and leave, all without having to fight you?”

They gave this some thought, and eventually said that four pieces of gold seemed like a good deal to them. So in my typically-helpful manner I offered them two now, and three when we left safely. This more than satisfied them, so they just “went hunting” to be out of our way.  Woo!

The Rogue helpfully pointed out the pit traps in the floor, so we got to skirt those, and then she peeked into the next chamber and reported back that she saw a kobol shaman.

You guys, the shaman was not interested in bargaining.

Instead, like a giant jerk, he attacked and trapped our Fighter in a bone cage.  So naturally I hit him with some magical fire.  Which pissed him off enough that he called down the creepy-creepy spider we were all wary of, and do you know what that bitch did?  She spat web on me, rendering me immobile!  Luckily, webbing is flammable, and as soon as I burned it off I popped right back into bear form because giant spider = giant nope.  While I was dealing with that, and our Fighter was brute-strengthing her way out of the cage (it put me in mind of an mini caber-toss), our Rogue kept popping up out of cover to shoot at things with her crossbow, for all the good it did her.  Oh, did I not mention that the jerk shaman summoned mist to hide him and all but one of the spider’s legs?  Because he did that. Jerk.

And then Spider Bitch foolishly left the mist to take a bite out of Grumpy Bear (aka me), and it did some damage.  But not nearly as much damage as our Fighter did when she got her axe a’swining!  In a series of rolls that had to be seen to be believed (including two nat-20s), she killed it dead.  It was a thing of dismembered beauty.  And then I, using my superior ursine olfactory receptors, sniffed out the shaman in the mist (lightly scorched as he was) and ripped him apart with my claws.  Very satisfying.  Jerk should have just taken the money and not put anyone in a cage.

We hunted around for our macguffins, eventually realized they were stuck with webbing to the ceiling, which might have been a problem if we hadn’t already learned that (say it with me!) webbing is flammable! #actuallywinningatadventuring

So I made some more fire and we got our macguffins and headed off to the Ghost-Filled-Forest.  Which I did not like, not one bit, because it felt Very Unnatural, if there’s anything a Druid hates, it’s Unnatural Nature.  So I helpfully commented on that a lot (“I don’t like it.  No sir, I don’t like it.”), as we made our way deeper and deeper, until we came to a little clearing through which ran a river, on the other side of which was something that looked… suspicious.

And then we died.

Not even kidding.  Total Party Kill, from a damn wolf pack that popped up out of nowhere.  I was taken out in literally two bites, because Clumsy Elf is a Hella Delicate Flower in her default form.  It was frustrating as hell, but since we’d already jokingly agreed ahead of time that there was a “save point” outside the forest, our DM benevolently let us "restart".  But his grace only went so far, because he did not let us go back to the outskirts of the forest, but instead had us restart from when the wolves began their attack, with their unfortunately-higher-than-ours Initiative (ie turn-order, ie all three of them got to attack before any of us could make a move).

We rolled better this time (or, rather, the wolves rolled worse and I actually had a chance to roll anything) and I managed to survive the initial onslaught and pull my Grumpy Bear trick.  And then we were on equal footing, combat wise.

I killed some, the Fighter killed some, the Rogue provided support from the top of a dead tree, like a sensible Rogue. (Rogues are generally pretty squishy. Hence the stabbing-in-the-back thing.)  And I felt such goodwill towards the Fighter (Clumsy Elf is developing a bit of a hero-worship crush on her) that I gave her a bear-back ride across the river, to the Suspicious Thing that turned out to be the tomb/sarcophagus we’d come looking for.

The Ghost popped up, lookin’ ruhl annoyed, but damned if our Fighter didn’t turn out to have a Silver Tongue, and said exactly the right thing to get the Ghost to immediately turn over the macguffins!  Brawn and Brains!  Good job, Fighter!

Now we just need to make it back to town, and use our little macguffins to unlock the Bigger Macguffin!

***

And that's the end of Session Two! We're scheduled to play again next weekend, and I'm planning on writing up that session, as well, so here's to me not having another eight-month blog-radio-silence (without even a secret pregnancy to excuse it!).

In all seriousness, now that TYM is approaching a full year (and TLG will be five what the actual hell...) I'm starting to get a little of my time back, which means more writing. Which is good, because I need it (and art) for good inner-self-hygiene.

Tawny Highsun, Pt I

Confession Time: in the two plus decades that my spouse and I have known one another, I have never once been able to convince him to play any sort of RPG with me.  I've sorely wished he would, of course (what with me being a Second Generation Geek, and all), but I didn't really push it because who wants to play with someone who... doesn't actually want to play?  I'm not real big on acts Performed Out of Obligation, is what I'm saying.  I much prefer taking what is Freely Offered, and thus I had resigned myself to a lifetime of Not Gaming With My Lifemate.

But then- oh Gentle Readers, but then!  Last month we were having lunch with a couple of his friends who Game, and the three of us were bonding over it, and they said I was welcome to join them any time and in fact the DM had a one-shot he'd created but never used... and Nathan agreed to give it a try!  I tried not to shriek my glee, but I, uh... may not have succeeded at that.

Anyway, we're playing this upcoming Sunday, and for the first time ever I whipped myself up a Ranger.  The backstory I wrote (because I'm pretty sure I literally cannot create a character without also writing a Compelling Backstory) is nearly 3800 words long, so I decided to break it up a bit for you, especially since I'm spilling all this digital ink on the intro-to-the-backstory.

When constructing a Ranger you get to choose your "favored enemy" from a list, and when my eyes fell on the "undead" option I decided to initially pattern my character after Buffy Summers (hence the name Tawny Highsun).  She's nowhere near a perfect copy (nor is she meant to be) but it was a good starting place for creating a fun character, and it's why I chose to make her Human instead of a Half-Elf (which would have made more sense from a strategic standpoint but oh well).  I also chose the "Folk Hero" background for her, so I had to write something that would reflect that.  It's pretty dark as far as Defining Events go, although Tawny has not let it turn her into a Dark and/or Brooding Character.  I definitely look forward to playing someone with cheerful nature and unflagging optimism, in spite of her personal demons.  And I really hope that Nathan has a good enough time that he wants to repeat the experiment...

***

If the monster had not come during the Festival of Angels and Demons, they might have recognized it sooner.  But it did come during Festival, when everyone wears costumes, and no one thinks twice about seeing a twisted visage.  If the monster had not come during Festival, they might have realized their children were being stolen. But it did come during Festival, when children run wild in packs, often staying at one another’s houses and not returning home for the entirety of the week.  And so the children were taken, in ones, and twos, and groups, by a beast that walked casually through the crowds of men.

By the fourth night of the Festival, people had begun to realize that something was wrong, and by the end of the fifth day there was a decided panic in the air as parents ran from house to house in the waning light, hoping to find their littles ones.

The Highsuns, woodcarvers by trade and beloved members of the town council, were among those parents searching.  Not because their own children were missing- no, their own six were safe at home- but rather to provide moral support to their fellow townsfolk- and more importantly, protection in the form of greater numbers.  The Highsuns didn’t want to frighten their own children, so when they instructed their eldest daughter, Tawny, to keep the younger ones in the house no matter what, they didn’t tell her why. Instead they emphasizing that the youngest Highsuns had already had too much excitement, and needed to rest if they were to properly enjoy the final days of Festival.

At fifteen Tawny was generally a cheerful, obedient daughter, and she did her best to keep her siblings entertained as they whined about missing the penultimate night of Festival.  At long last, however, the younger children settled down and fell asleep- even ten-year-old Aurora, who worshipped Tawny and tried to emulate her in all ways, up to and including staying up late.  Once the last of her siblings’ breathing evened out into that of true slumber, Tawny (mindful that her parents had not told her to stay inside) decided to slip out and join in the Festival for an hour or two.

She put on her costume first- a flowing white gown fit for an Angel, with small but elaborately carved wooden wings fitted over her shoulders.  It had taken nearly a week to craft them, in between working on apprentice projects for her parents, and Tawny was extremely proud of her work. She’d have finished sooner if she hadn’t decided to add a spiraling pattern of silver wire inlay, but was hoping that when her mother saw them she would agree that they were worthy of journeyman status.  Tawny grabbed her tool pouch and attached it to her belt: in it she carried a variety of carved charms she could sell for a bit of spending money, and perhaps bring home a few pies as a breakfast treat for the other children.

Tawny was surprised by how quiet the streets were- strangely empty for a normal night in the town of Devas, let alone a Festival night.  It was an eerie, unnatural stillness, and it put Tawny on edge. The quiet was so complete that as she paused at the intersection of two streets, wondering if she ought to turn back, she heard a soft footfall behind her.  She whirled around just in time to see a flutter of white disappear around a corner.

“Hello?” said Tawny.  “Who’s there?” Heart thudding in her chest, she walked quickly back the way she’d come, hoping to catch one of her friends playing at being a Demon to her Angel.  But when she rounded the corner, she saw two figures, and only one of them was familiar to her; Aurora, eyes wide with terror, was being restrained by a man wearing a terrifying mask, one black-gloved hand pressed tightly over the child’s mouth.

“Let her go- you’re scaring her!” Tawny said sharply, and moved to retrieve her wayward sister.  The man smiled broadly at her, and Tawny realized suddenly that it wasn’t a mask at all.

***

Tawny woke dizzy and with an excruciating pain in her head.  She pushed herself awkwardly to a sitting position and found that her arms hurt, too- specifically her wrists.  The ground beneath her was cold stone, rough against the naked flesh of her shins.

“Wha-” she muttered, and found that her throat was parched.  She swallowed painfully, trying to bring the world around her into focus by blinking repeatedly.  Gray- and darker gray- everything was shifting shadows- until she noticed a lighter smudge out of the corner of her eye.  She turned towards it slowly, painfully, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, of where she was, of what had happened.  The last thing she remembered was the stranger’s eyes, glowing red and holding her still as a mouse before a snake.

The lighter smudge had moved closer to her, and Tawny realized it was a shaft of sunlight, home to a host of leisurely spinning dust motes.  A sudden draft caused a flurry of movement in the tiny dancers, and she followed the slant of the ray upwards to a small opening in the rock.

“You’re awake!” the voice was familiar and strange all at once, and Tawny’s eyes flicked to follow it to the darker corner beyond the shaft of light.  The voice, the beloved voice she’d never heard so cold before, continued with odd delight, “I knew you weren’t going to die!”

That voice- Tawny squinted into the darkness, willing it not to take recognizable form.  Willing it to be just her imagination.

“Au-” she started, but could not get her sister’s name out.  Her throat was too dry.

“I wanted you to be awake when I bite you again,” Aurora said conversationally.  “I didn’t want you to die never knowing what you’d done.”

“Done?” Tawny whispered, fighting nausea.  Aurora had- bit her? Is that what was wrong with her?  She looked down at her wrists and realized the source of their pain: both had raw wounds, as though an animal had worried them.  She flexed her blood-stained fingers and the pain flared up in response.

“You led me straight to the vampire!” Aurora laughed and stepped forward just enough for Tawny to see her, but still keeping her distance from the light.  “Your littlest sister! Mommy and Daddy told you to keep me safe, but instead you delivered me into the claws of a monster who snatched me up and drained my blood until I was white white white as a winding sheet!”  She did a little pirouette, her nightgown fanning out around her.  There was a dark brown spray across the bodice that hadn’t been there before.  Tawny’s eyes burned as though she was crying, but no tears came.

“It’s so silly the Angels dress in white, when really that color belongs to the dead,” Aurora said knowingly.   “Which means it belongs to me, because I’m dead, and it’s all your fault!”  She laughed again, clapping her hands.  “Anyway,” she added soberly, “your dress is nicer, so once I’m done with you I’ll have it for myself.  He said I took too much before, and that you weren’t going to wake up again, but you did!”

Aurora crouched down and scuttled a little closer to Tawny, right up to the edge of the light, her movements strangely articulated, more like a spider than a little girl.  “Do you want to know what I’m going to do?” she asked, her voice breathless with excitement. “I want to tell you!”

Tawny shook her head.  What she wanted was to wake up from this nightmare, wake up and run into her parents’ room for comfort, wake up and laugh at the idea of her sweet sister ever speaking in such a cold, taunting voice.

“Mommy and Daddy will invite me in, of course.  They won’t be able to tell that I’ve changed! But they’ll realize it eventually.  I’ll kill Leaf first, make it look like an accident. Babies die all the time, have you noticed?  And oh, how they’ll weep for him! And then I’ll kill Dandelion and Buttercup. I’ll have to do that at the same time,” Aurora muttered, as though to herself, “because they’re always together and they might tell.  Mommy and Daddy will start to suspect then, and I’ll make sure they keep suspecting but never really know.  They won’t want to believe it, so they won’t!  Not until I kill Finchy. And then I’ll make sure to tell them you’re the reason I got changed, so they can die hating you, too!  Maybe I’ll tell Daddy that I’ll let Mommy go free if he just stabs himself… but then I’ll kill her as he bleeds out, so he can watch!  Won't that be wonderful?”

The child looked expectantly at Tawny, who said nothing.  A look of annoyance crossed the younger girl’s face, and she glanced over her shoulder, deeper into the cave.  “But I have to wait for him. He can’t wake up as long as the sun is up,” she rolled her eyes.  “He says someday, when I’m as powerful as he is, it will affect me, too, but not yet.  Not yet. So I have to wait. The others decided to sleep the day away, lazy things, but I knew that I should spend it with you, so that you would know just exactly what you’ve done.”

“...others?” Tawny choked.

“The other children, stupid.  We’re all going to go home tonight, with stories about playing hiding games and getting lost in the caverns.  And they’ll all let us in.  And then what fun we’ll have!”  She bared her teeth at Tawny, and Tawny saw that there was flesh caught between them, dried blood on the upper lip.

“Do you want to see how strong I am now?” it asked eagerly, moving closer still.  “I’m so strong.  I could probably even pick you up!  I could probably snap your neck, but you’d die too quickly, I think.  Come here and I’ll pick you up!”

Tawny looked the creature in the eyes, noticing the beginning of a red glow in its pupils.  How could I have thought that thing was Aurora? She thought, dimly.  Aurora is dead.  And this is what killed it.

Tawny didn’t think- she just lunged, grabbing at the creature, who seemed too startled, at first, to react.  That didn’t last long, and Tawny realized that it had been telling the truth- it was much stronger than Aurora had been.  But Tawny had already pulled part of it into that shaft of light, and now it was shrieking with pain.  Tawny held it there, limbs twining around it in a terrible parody of an embrace, held it until it stopped shrieking, until it stopped moving.  The smell of burning flesh and hair overwhelmed her, and she rolled to her side, dry-heaving.

Tawny lay there, face pressing into the dirt, for what seemed like a small eternity- but it couldn’t have been that long, because the shaft of light had barely moved.  She half expected the “others” to come, but no one did. It said they were sleeping, she thought, dully.

I’ll have to destroy them before they wake up.

***

Part Two Here

Birthday NPC

A friend of mine (who is also my DM) recently had his birthday, and when I told him to name me a character and I'd sketch it for him (quite selfish on my part: I still have a looooong way to go on this 365 Project) he did me one better and told me to roll up an NPC and illustrate that, and then he'd put it in our Game somewhere.  I then accused him of being a Hobbit, and giving out gifts on his own birthday.

Well apparently the Universe liked the whole "Hobbit" idea, because here's what came out:

Yes, a bald halfling.  The dice deities, they have senses of humor.

Here are the traits I rolled for her, as well as the commentary I went back and added to each trait as she became a Whole (Half?) Person in my brain:

Distinctive Physical Feature: Bald (she got tired of her hair catching fire)

High Ability: Wisdom (notices details, even if she then trips over them)

Low Ability: Dex (hence hair catching fire and perforated eardrum and lots of little knife and burn scars)

Talent: Expert Cook (chef, really, because CREATIVITY)

Mannerism: Speaks Loudly (perforated eardrum from childhood)

Interaction Trait: Curious (about people in general but with a special interest in food they've encountered)

Chaotic Ideal: Creativity (specifically with food)

Bond: Protection of Valuable Possession (workbook)

Flaw: Arrogance (about her cooking but also it's merited?)

So that was an extremely fun exercise that satisfied my Project on the 19th-21st.  In case you're wondering, her outfit is dragon-hide, because when you're that clumsy of a cook you need some seriously fire-proof clothing.  And steel-toed boots, for that matter.  Those pink speckles you see all over her hands and face are burn and knife scars.  She's a mess!  But her food is awesome, so there you go.

Cutting Edge

We had a pretty epic gaming session today (over six hours, which was amazing but also exhausting) so needless to say, I've got things like blades and armor on the mind, which directly inspired this evenings experimentation:

Ooo, shiny!

It was a useful exercise, and I definitely want to come back to it to gain better control, but I feel like I could sketch in a tiny bit metal now without too much difficulty. Which means maybe there will be a drawing of Severan in the near future...

Severan and the Bats

It was humiliating to be brought low by a bunch of flying rodents.

I faced down seven wolves just last night- seven!  With only a third as many allies!  And I wasn't half so injured as this, Severan thought, trying not to complete her disgrace by actually collapsing.  Somehow those damnable bats has managed to shred every last inch of her exposed face and tail- had even miraculously (if evil things were capable of miracles) got their hellish little teeth and claws through the links in her mail.  It should not have been possible- and yet there were the lacerations (and the blood loss) to prove it.

Severan spared a glance for her recovering companions, revising her earlier, less-flattering assessments of them.  The sea-faring elf had more than held his own, using his outlandish harpoon to help defend Severan after the bats' first, critical strike.  It was laughable, now, to think that Severan had deliberately positioned herself in front of his slighter form when they originally entered the cave, concerned that his child-like enthusiasm was going to get him injured.  And the tiny halfling!  He had somehow launched himself through the air in a truly impressive feat of acrobatics, to finish off the last of the swarm that had targeted her.

You are teaching me about judging based on size, aren't You?  Severan thought to her god with a certain amount of irreverent irritation.  Why must you be so very practical with your lessons?  Wouldn't a divine revelation have served just as well?  Hissing with pain, she considered her options for healing.

Severan Obeys an Order

Night was well and truly upon them by the time the three of them cleaned the last of the wolves' gore from their gear and themselves.  The twin bonfires were still burning brightly, keeping their chosen site well-lit and warm, and discouraging further predation, but Severan still insisted on taking the first of the night's three watches.

Anastasia ignored her insistence, informed her that there would be two watches, and that Severan would keep neither of them.

"You said you've already been set upon three times in Ashenport," she said firmly, plaiting her still-damp hair back out of her face. "Which says to me that it will behoove you to be well-rested when you return to the Guild Hall in the morning, and fully recovered from today's fight, in case you find yourself set upon yet again."

Severan opened her mouth to argue that the two of them needed rest, as well- they'd each killed three wolves to her one- but Thane cut her off with a grin and a friendly pat.

"Besides which, you'll be the one hauling all seven of these raw and horrifically smelly pelts back to town, since we can't be suspected of having helped you.  So do as the Captain bids you, little meat-shield, and rest up."

Severan glared at the older man, but she'd spent too long in the merc company not to recognize (and obey) sensible orders.

Right Honorable Order of the Pinto Bear

There tends to be a lot of in-joking during games*, and yesterday's was no exception.  Many references were made to the dreaded "pinto bear", although naturally we never actually encountered one.  At least, not during our little adventure.  Who's to say my character (a scholar by trade) didn't circle back around later to do some in-depth study?

***

The Pinto Bear
(as thoroughly observed by Ionee)

The mature pinto-bear stands a good seven feet at the shoulder, and weights upwards of 1500 lbs.  As if their massive size were not advantage enough, this curiously speckled species is also equipped with retractable claws, a proto-thumb, and a rather fascinating ability to belch forth noxious gas.  The gas is not typically fatal, but will render an enemy (or prey) unconscious long enough for the pinto-bear to devour it.  If, however, the subject manages to survive being gassed, it appears as though the result is a temporary increase of intelligence.  Further study of potential medical-applications recommended.

Pinto-bears require a great deal of territory to keep themselves fed, and tend to be solitary- except during the spring and summer months, when it's not uncommon to find them living in small family groups, generally consisting of a mated pair and their cubs (2-3 is a typical whelping).  Mothers stay with their cubs for at least two years, and appear to go into season once every decade or so.  No one knows for certain the true lifespan of a pinto-bear, but given how rarely they mate, it seems safe to surmise that they live upwards of three centuries.

Their pelts are highly valued, being of a surprisingly soft texture which repels water and insulates efficiently.  The base color is a warm, almost pink-ish buff, with the spots ranging in color from burnt sienna to a brownish-black.

One last item of note, which this researcher was not able to verify: there are tales of particularly enraged pinto-bears exploding- literally, exploding into flame.  This researcher is not certain what, exactly, the benefit of such an ability would be (except perhaps as a last-ditch effort to protect offspring) nor how anyone would have survived such an event so as to tell about it.  Perhaps it is merely a part of their life cycle?  Again- further study is highly recommended.

WHAT COULD GO WRONG?!

*(don't even get me started on the crotch goblins)

A Merry Band

Today was a momentous day in the O household.

Today was the day that I finally, at long last, fully embraced my Destiny as a Second Generation Geek, and played D&D...

...with my mom!

Yes siree, this morning my old friends Adam and SCurry came over, and the four of us (with Adam acting as our long-suffering DM) got our role-play on.

****

Frennyr Scaleson could hardly be blamed for gawking like an idiot when he first caught sight of the travelers.  Sure, he knew as well as the next villager that the mayor of Glasslake had sent out a call for adventurers to deal with their... little problem... but Frennyr was expecting nothing more exciting than a battle-scarred ex-merc, or perhaps even a mysterious, taciturn ranger if they really lucky.  But nothing so exotic as this trio.

The most pedestrian of the group was the elf: small and slight and dark of skin, with hair that hung about her head like an enraged storm-cloud.  At least, Frennyr thought she was an elf, until he got a better look at the second one- she was tall for a female, with skin so white as to be blue, and so unmistakably an elf that Frennyr suddenly realized that first one must be a half-elf.  But achingly beautiful as she was, with glossy black hair braided intricately back from her face, even the full-blooded elf was rendered unremarkable in comparison to their final companion.  Frennyr could not at first imagine what the creature was: well over six feet tall, broad as a young bull, and covered in shimmering gold scales instead of flesh, it did not match the description of any of the races Frennyr knew.  But then someone else on the dock hissed, "Dragonborn!" and he felt like an idiot.  Of course the creature was dragonborn!  He- she?  It was hard to tell, but something about the delicacy of the fins spoke of the feminine to him.  She was wearing chain-mail and carrying a great battleaxe that looked well-cared-for.  The elf had the lean and deadly air of an individual best avoided after dark- or perhaps just in general.  Frennyr glanced again at the delicately-proportioned half-elf.  No warrior, that one- but, the stained fingertips indicated a scholar of some sort.  And scholars usually knew all sorts of useful magic.  He grunted in satisfaction; surely this lot would have no trouble with whatever it was that had been helping itself to the villager's goods.

Severan

I doodled my character:

Horns inspired by the kudu

Character Building Experience

A buddy of mine had a little D&D "character creation" party tonight, so Neeps got to spend some quality time with Daddy while I remembered what it's like to be out of the house past 8pm.

I went in not really knowing what I was going to do, which is a bit unusual for me.  But the truth of the matter is that I hadn't had much spare time/mental energy to devote to it, so I figured I'd just stat out one the characters from a past story.  After all, it's always a fun mind puzzle to make your ideas fit within someone else's rules.  I had a vague notion that I might like to create a paladin, based on a conversation I'd had earlier in the week with my mother, and it just so happens that one of my old stories is about a bunch of (essentially) paladins.  Perfect.

In the end I think I did a fairly decent job of it- the only problem was that she pretty much 100% was not going to work with the more rogue-like characters the others created.  Not that I don't have faith in my DM to come up with a scenario in which she feasibly be hanging out with them, but... not without it running too incredibly counter to her personal story.  Which, obviously, is the problem with coming to the table with an out-of-world character.

So.

The more I thought about it on the drive home, the more I realized that I was just going to have to redo the whole thing.  Same basic premise, but without any of the backstory baggage- and with a few tweaks to make it more likely for my lawful good paladin to hook up with a bunch of mischevious hooligans (interesting side note: I've never actually plated lawful good before- it should be interesting, if no one kills my character for being too pedantic first).

I may very well type up her backstory for a future blog entry... after I've gotten her new stats worked out, of course.

Teasing Spring

I've actually done quite a bit of writing over the past couple of days, but unfortunately I can't share any of it here (yet) because it's all to do with a one-off game I'm planning for some friends.  I'm pretty excited about it, tho', so I do hope to share, eventually.

In the meantime, it is sunny and gorgeous in my neighborhood, and Neeps and I are taking plenty of lovely walks and learning all about things like how pretty crocuses are in the sunshine:

DID YOU KNOW, saffron is a spice derived from the saffron crocus?!

Game Night

Probably I'm winning.  But maybe that's just the cherry-infused whiskey talking.

Trek in the Park!

Trek in the Park is a Thing, you guys, and it is Awesome.

Indeed.

I'd meant to go last year, but never quite got around to it- so this year I made definite plans to go while my mom was in town, because it's the sort of thing she would also enjoy.  But, as you know... tits up.  And so rather than going during opening weekend, as I'd originally planned, Nathan and I headed down there this afternoon to camp out two hours early, shielding ourselves from the Mighty Sky Fireball with a pair of umbrellas and good humor.

(Side Note: crutches work amazingly well for claiming nearby space for friends.)

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and I'm definitely looking forward to going back next year (a performance for which I will arrive three hours early, and bring a cooler.)

Using Crossfit as a Warmup?!

We had an option for our WOD today- we could choose to do yesterday's WOD:

400 m walking lunges

or we could do today's "official" WOD:

12-11-10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1
Hang Cleans
Burpees
Hollow Rocks

For me the choice was pretty easy, for several reasons.  First, when I'd seen yesterday's WOD posted (yesterday evening) I was kind of bummed that I'd missed it.  Second, why do burpees if you dont have to? And finally (and most importantly) I had a 5k Walk/Run for the Animals that started at 0900 that I was supposed to meet for at 0830 (I do the 0800 session of Crossfit), and I knew I could finish the 400m faster.

It was just me and one other guy who opted for walking lunges, so of course I launched into my typical early-in-the-WOD-banter, because I believe in evening out the odds by stealing the other guys' breath with laughter.  He especially seemed amused by my expletives:

Real and true things that I say when under duress.

By the time I finished my cool down ("When you finish, your legs will think it's a great idea to lie down," warned Jack.  "Do not listen to them- go get on the airdyne and work them out.") it was a smidge after 0830, so even tho I wanted to stay and jabber, I had to get a move on.

I managed to make it to the starting line just as things were, well, starting, so my team knew I was there even if I spent the rest of the walk nowhere near them.  Taking a 5.5 month old puppy on a 5k is a great deal like taking a little kid on a 5k: there was a lot of stopping to investigate stuff, then running to catch up/just because she could (less whining, tho').  After the midway point she seemed to flag a bit, so I jogged while she trotted gamely next to me, but then she got her second wind and... well, my quads had Opinions about that, especially in light of their earlier abuse.

My dog runs way faster than I do.

The truth is I think that doing that 5k was maybe one of the better things I could have done after today's WOD, in terms of making sure my muscles didn't seize up.  Of course, now I'm faced with the fact that I cannot go down stairs (except by scooting on my butt, which Nathan finds hilarious), and the dread of what second-day-after-soreness will bring... but I'll think about that the day-after-tomorrow.  In the meantime, I have a bunch of free comic books to read.

Treecat

If  you're a fan of David Weber, you'll probably know what this is:

Treecats love celery, oh yes they do.

If not, well... it's an alien.  An arboreal alien that is supposed to look like a cross between a cat and a ferret, with six limbs and opposable thumbs.  And this one is male, because he's gray and cream.  ::coughnerdcough:: Anyway....

I've always had a difficult time properly picturing treecats, which naturally makes me want to draw them.  Drawing something is an excellent way for me to figure out the anatomy of something, which is why when I'm describing a "creature" in my writing, I often must sketch it out first (Pegs, for example)  (Also the dragon from my Sleeping Beauty retelling).

Anyway there it is, my attempt at understanding just what, exactly a treecat looks like.  And in case you were wondering what prompted this little exercise, it was reading A Beautiful Friendship, which I thoroughly enjoyed and am looking forward to the sequels thereof (not the least because Jane Lindskold is taking over on the series).

Starfall

Another good (but packed) day.

I spent the morning getting caught up on some stuff I'd been slacking on (yes, including the blog), and then around noon-thirty Nathan dropped me off down at the convention center for Stumptown, where I met up with my Katie, and good times were had by all.  One of the things I specifically wanted to do was sit in on a panel on digital painting, and thus we did so.  Which brings us to this:

Smudge Tooled

No, it is not particularly exciting.  But what it is, is me putting into use one of the things I learned during the panel.  Well not so much "learned" as "was reminded of".  See, I have this bad habit of getting into a rut with what I do with how I color; I know what works and I stick to it.  Don't get me wrong- I like my vaguely-cel-shaded-style, but sometimes I forget that I don't have to work that way.  Hence I busted out a smudgy sphere.

Anyway, we eventually wandered back across the river and into the rock gym, where I pushed the hell out of myself and tried a 5.10+ (couldn't solve it without cheating- yet) which schooled me on the importance of keeping your core tight.  But what was super the most exciting was that I tried a 5.8 overhang (ie, on a wall angled more than 90 degrees) called Starfall.  Now, what you need to understand is that I'd done Starfall before.  A couple of times, actually.  Failed it a couple of times, too.  Solving that route had involved a lot of swearing and brute strength, but I hadn't tried it since I started the technique clinic, and I wanted to see if I'd actually made any improvement in my climbing.

Holy stars, have I ever.

I'm not saying it was "easy", but it felt good.  I didn't feel like I was fighting the wall, I felt like my body was doing what it was supposed to be doing, and that I was actually flowing instead of muscling; I didn't completely deplete my strength getting to the top.  It was a fabulous feeling, and I was super, super triumphant- and super glad Katie was there to prove I wasn't making it up.

Seeing What Can Be Done

You may recall that a while back I did a doodle inspired by my mother.  And when she saw that doodle, she very sweetly requested a few others.  Well, here is the beginning of me seeing what can be done:

Mage

There is more to the doodle, but it's not really filled in yet, so I expect it will be a few more days before you see it- especially since I have a particularly busy weekend ahead of me- one that starts in about an hour when Tavish and SCurry get here for some totally awesome Game of Thrones watching.

I Am Too Tired to Come Up With a Clever Title

I had zilch in the way of inspiration for a drawing today, and so I went for coloring, instead:

She will beat you to death with her Mace of Healing, oh yes she will.

Fun fact: I based the colors of her outfit on my mom's high school colors.  Because I can.  Also, you will notice that she is not so friggin' pale as most of my ladies- this is because, unlike me, my mother actually manifests some of our Native American blood in the form of that elusive thing called melanin.  My brother does the same, darn his eyes.



...also, I just realized I forgot to lay in the shadow colors on her shorts.  D'oh.

Yeah? Well My Mom Can Totally P0wn Your Mom.

I've mentioned before that I am a second-generation geek.  That's right, Gentle Readers, I come by it honestly.  My mother is a gamer, and more than that she is a gamer who will kick your friggin' butt at anything involving strategy.  We occasionally get into gleeful conversations about our most recent in-game-butt-kicking-exploits, and the other day as she cheerfully recounted her literally-last-second obliteration of an opposing army I got the inspiration to do a doodle for her.  This is the result of that inspiration:

That's MADAME Cleric to you, bitches.

Yeah, that's right- my mom doesn't just obliterate armies, she does it while playing as a cleric (a typically defensive character, for those less-nerdly-than-I).

Feel free to be in complete awe.

ECCC: Day Two

Actually my time at ECCC per se was fairly limited. After Tavish and I went out for breakfast (and I was melodramatically Gluten Free- I do not know what had gotten into me) I dashed in and out of the vendor's hall to exchange my shirt for a smaller size.  And then?  Then Katie and I drove alllll the way out to Stone Gardens to go climbing for a couple of hours before we had to head home.  I am hoping this will encourage her to join my gym so we can go climbing together all the time.

Not my most favorite doodle ever, but at least I did one.

This little Sailor Moon is the half-hearted attempt I made at drawing during the drive home, the result of me gleefully pretending like I was going to subject Tavish to a full explanation of all things Sailor Moon... (which I did not, because I love him) (and the others in the car).