The sea loving orc was dreaming of the smell of the ocean breeze and the gentle rolling of the surf. Lucan's voice called him from his slumber. His training kicked in subconsciously. He sprang to his feet, stood at attention, saluted in Lucans general direction, and fought a great battle against a yawn that threatened to break his disciplined posture. He blinked a few times, dropped the salute, and offered up a sheepish grin. "Get fer restin' now, no troubles fer sneakin' by the humphorse 'n me,"
Salty did his fair share of guard duty in the warehouse district of a town far to the north called Luskan. He served his duty on his feet, turning slowly for the full two hours. Men who got comfortable on duty ran the risk of dozing, the cardinal sin of standing watch. He kept an eye on the camel as well, noting any sudden or unusual actions.
As his time passed he glanced up to the magnificence of the night sky in the desert. The vastness and sheer beauty of it took the burly orc's breath away. He disliked being far from the sea, but he offered a prayer of gratitude to Valkur for blessing him with the opportunity to see such a sight.
***OoC: perception: 12 ***
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
The faint chill of the pre-dawn air stirs me from my rest without need for a nudge. The sky is still painted in deep blues, but the first hints of light are creeping over the horizon. Rising quietly so as not to disturb the others, I step toward Salty, who stands watch with the stillness of one accustomed to such vigils.
I offer him a nod of respect as I draw near. “You have my thanks, friend,” I murmur, lowering my voice so the sleepers remain undisturbed. “Before you rest, if you don’t mind my asking, what is it truly like to serve Valkur? To feel his presence at your side?”
While we speak, I move to check on our camel, laying a hand gently on its neck, murmuring soft assurances. I make sure it has enough water, adjusting the tether so it can rest in comfort.
Once Salty takes his leave for sleep, I remain standing, eyes sweeping across the terrain in slow, deliberate arcs, watching for any movement in the pale light of the approaching dawn. The world feels balanced in this moment, neither night nor day, danger nor safety.
In the quiet, I bow my head, clasping my hands before me. Lord Kelemvor, Judge of the Dead, I thank you for the blessings of this journey, for the safety of my companions, and for the guidance you grant in life as in death. The prayer is silent, but the weight of its sincerity is heavy in my chest.
The day is coming. I remain alert, ready to meet it.
Salty pauses for a moment, giving real consideration to Samir's question. In the short time he had known the man, Samir's deeds and words had earned his respect. He pulls forth the small clay pot, opens the lid and dips his fingers into the sea water; laying two fingers on his forehead he drags a straight line to his chin. He tasted the salt in the water and felt calm and reassured. He looks Samir in the eye, his own eyes both fierce and kind, gentle and powerful. "Always has I feeled da pull of da sea. I feels it in me very bones. Tis beautius 'n terrible, givin' 'n takin' life 'n equal bits. Valkur's fer much o' da same. The chaos o' da storm, wind, lightening, seas fer topplin' da mightiest o' ships 'r fer bein' is domain. But yon seas 'er fer givin' life too. Valkur gives might fer me arm, but light fer me heart. Me hands 'er fer killin' fer da cause o' good, me same hands 'er fer healin' da sick 'n hurt. Ye speaks wit a hurricane what seeks evil 'n seeks fer washin' it away fer da glory o' me god. To serve me god is fer tastin' da power o' chaos 'n guidin' it fer a goodly cause."
Salty wasn't sure how else to explain it. He was not an educated orc, but his words came from the heart. With a wide yawn, Salty gave Samir a pat on the shoulder. "I'm fer mo' talkin' 'n hearin' o' yer callin', but sleep I'm needin' too." Salty finished his rest, assured that he and Samir would have many more cconversations on matters of faith.
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
"Your words carry the weight of truth. The sea, like the divine, holds both wrath and mercy in its depths. I see the hand of Valkur in your conviction, and I honor the strength he gives you. Though I walk a path under Kelemvor's gaze, where justice and balance guide my steps, I hold deep respect for all who serve the greater good.
Like you, I have a duty. My calling is to ensure that those who are meant for life remain among the living, and those marked for death are not unjustly spared. Kelemvor is the final judge — the one who weighs the deeds of the dead and delivers their eternal sentence. There is no escaping his judgment, no bribing his scales.
You, Salty the Stormbearer, drive the wicked from this world. Your god's winds scatter the darkness, and your strength clears the way. And when the storm passes, and evil falls — Kelemvor waits to pass judgment, unflinching and absolute.
Together, whether by storm or silence, we serve the same cause: to preserve the balance and purge the rot that festers in the world."
With that, Samir closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and a slow exhale. He opens his eyes and assumes his watch while the others get their final few hours of rest.
The blue haired orc stops in his tracks as Samir speaks. He turns to face the man as he speaks, eyes attentive, if not a little heavy. He answers simply, saying, "Aye. We're fer bein' look't over, dont ye doubt." Salty was usually not much fer pretty words, but the acknowledgment and respect for his calling was evident in his deep blue eyes. He offered another friendly pat on the shoulder.
He paused as he turned to get the remainder of his rest. "Salty da Stormbearer... I'm fer likin' dat. Not fer knowin' can I spells it, but I'm fer likin' it."
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lucan uses the time to rest as much as possible before and after his guard shift.
Perception 8
During his shift Lucan will do a small circle pattern around the group using his Darkvision to help spot any problems as far away as possible. If there is high ground very close by, he'll try to use it off and on to get a better view of the area around them.
He will go through his spells and hope to get a long rest in or if they get attacked ask to be allowed to get a long rest in if he hasn't had the time. If Lucan spots anything he'll alert vocally immediately or wake the others physically.
Using the exercise to help build heat while moving.
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Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
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Salty
The sea loving orc was dreaming of the smell of the ocean breeze and the gentle rolling of the surf. Lucan's voice called him from his slumber. His training kicked in subconsciously. He sprang to his feet, stood at attention, saluted in Lucans general direction, and fought a great battle against a yawn that threatened to break his disciplined posture. He blinked a few times, dropped the salute, and offered up a sheepish grin. "Get fer restin' now, no troubles fer sneakin' by the humphorse 'n me,"
Salty did his fair share of guard duty in the warehouse district of a town far to the north called Luskan. He served his duty on his feet, turning slowly for the full two hours. Men who got comfortable on duty ran the risk of dozing, the cardinal sin of standing watch. He kept an eye on the camel as well, noting any sudden or unusual actions.
As his time passed he glanced up to the magnificence of the night sky in the desert. The vastness and sheer beauty of it took the burly orc's breath away. He disliked being far from the sea, but he offered a prayer of gratitude to Valkur for blessing him with the opportunity to see such a sight.
***OoC: perception: 12 ***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Samir Perception: 13
The faint chill of the pre-dawn air stirs me from my rest without need for a nudge. The sky is still painted in deep blues, but the first hints of light are creeping over the horizon. Rising quietly so as not to disturb the others, I step toward Salty, who stands watch with the stillness of one accustomed to such vigils.
I offer him a nod of respect as I draw near. “You have my thanks, friend,” I murmur, lowering my voice so the sleepers remain undisturbed. “Before you rest, if you don’t mind my asking, what is it truly like to serve Valkur? To feel his presence at your side?”
While we speak, I move to check on our camel, laying a hand gently on its neck, murmuring soft assurances. I make sure it has enough water, adjusting the tether so it can rest in comfort.
Once Salty takes his leave for sleep, I remain standing, eyes sweeping across the terrain in slow, deliberate arcs, watching for any movement in the pale light of the approaching dawn. The world feels balanced in this moment, neither night nor day, danger nor safety.
In the quiet, I bow my head, clasping my hands before me. Lord Kelemvor, Judge of the Dead, I thank you for the blessings of this journey, for the safety of my companions, and for the guidance you grant in life as in death. The prayer is silent, but the weight of its sincerity is heavy in my chest.
The day is coming. I remain alert, ready to meet it.
Salty
Salty pauses for a moment, giving real consideration to Samir's question. In the short time he had known the man, Samir's deeds and words had earned his respect. He pulls forth the small clay pot, opens the lid and dips his fingers into the sea water; laying two fingers on his forehead he drags a straight line to his chin. He tasted the salt in the water and felt calm and reassured. He looks Samir in the eye, his own eyes both fierce and kind, gentle and powerful. "Always has I feeled da pull of da sea. I feels it in me very bones. Tis beautius 'n terrible, givin' 'n takin' life 'n equal bits. Valkur's fer much o' da same. The chaos o' da storm, wind, lightening, seas fer topplin' da mightiest o' ships 'r fer bein' is domain. But yon seas 'er fer givin' life too. Valkur gives might fer me arm, but light fer me heart. Me hands 'er fer killin' fer da cause o' good, me same hands 'er fer healin' da sick 'n hurt. Ye speaks wit a hurricane what seeks evil 'n seeks fer washin' it away fer da glory o' me god. To serve me god is fer tastin' da power o' chaos 'n guidin' it fer a goodly cause."
Salty wasn't sure how else to explain it. He was not an educated orc, but his words came from the heart. With a wide yawn, Salty gave Samir a pat on the shoulder. "I'm fer mo' talkin' 'n hearin' o' yer callin', but sleep I'm needin' too." Salty finished his rest, assured that he and Samir would have many more cconversations on matters of faith.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
As Salty walks away;
"Your words carry the weight of truth. The sea, like the divine, holds both wrath and mercy in its depths. I see the hand of Valkur in your conviction, and I honor the strength he gives you. Though I walk a path under Kelemvor's gaze, where justice and balance guide my steps, I hold deep respect for all who serve the greater good.
Like you, I have a duty. My calling is to ensure that those who are meant for life remain among the living, and those marked for death are not unjustly spared. Kelemvor is the final judge — the one who weighs the deeds of the dead and delivers their eternal sentence. There is no escaping his judgment, no bribing his scales.
You, Salty the Stormbearer, drive the wicked from this world. Your god's winds scatter the darkness, and your strength clears the way. And when the storm passes, and evil falls — Kelemvor waits to pass judgment, unflinching and absolute.
Together, whether by storm or silence, we serve the same cause: to preserve the balance and purge the rot that festers in the world."
With that, Samir closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and a slow exhale. He opens his eyes and assumes his watch while the others get their final few hours of rest.
Salty
The blue haired orc stops in his tracks as Samir speaks. He turns to face the man as he speaks, eyes attentive, if not a little heavy. He answers simply, saying, "Aye. We're fer bein' look't over, dont ye doubt." Salty was usually not much fer pretty words, but the acknowledgment and respect for his calling was evident in his deep blue eyes. He offered another friendly pat on the shoulder.
He paused as he turned to get the remainder of his rest. "Salty da Stormbearer... I'm fer likin' dat. Not fer knowin' can I spells it, but I'm fer likin' it."
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lucan uses the time to rest as much as possible before and after his guard shift.
Perception 8
During his shift Lucan will do a small circle pattern around the group using his Darkvision to help spot any problems as far away as possible. If there is high ground very close by, he'll try to use it off and on to get a better view of the area around them.
He will go through his spells and hope to get a long rest in or if they get attacked ask to be allowed to get a long rest in if he hasn't had the time. If Lucan spots anything he'll alert vocally immediately or wake the others physically.
Using the exercise to help build heat while moving.
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;