Burrloft Folldorall's page

Burrloft raises a quizical eyebrow towards Nils "It's dead, is it not?"

"Well, we do no aid ourselves standing around moaning over an expired wolf," Burrloft finally says, "Let us once again work on finding this druid's home."

Burrloft nods at Marissa's words. "Beating to death an animal driven to ferocity out of desperate hunger is no worthy deed. I'm sorry it had to be done; I had hoped to just drive it off. But that doesn't stave off the fact that it would have claimed on or more of us if it could... Nils, my friend, you are hurt. Miss Moongazer, is there anything you can do for his wounds?"

Burrloft again concentrates and swings sending the fist of telekinetic force out toward the wolf.

Attack: 15
Damage: 3

Sorry, guys. Was out at Paizocon over the weekend and didn't get to check in on the boards.

Sorry, very eventful weekend and I forgot to check in here

Burrloft is surprised that the beast didn't take the rabbit carcass and run and tries to summon force for another telekinetic fist. His distraction is apparent, however, and the fist is far to the side of the wolf.

Attack: 5+1= 6

Burrloft shoves his sleeve up and, with a rattle of bracelets, makes a punching motion. Pushing a telekinetic fist out with his mind he strikes at the wolf hopeing the disembodied attack will alarm it enough to drive it away.

Ranged Touch Attack: 13 +1(DEX)=14 vs wolf's touch AC
If damage is applicable: 2hp

Initiative: 1d20+1: 14+1= 15

Burrloft is not terribly strong, but will try to aid Feona in getting Nils down. Together we might weigh as much as 1/3 of a human!

Burrloft shrugs "Well, I think that his shrouding would be interesting to learn and could be quite artistic and have some historical merrit. I really would like to learn the process, but I mostly just wanted to wipe that smug, supersillious look off of his pompus face."

"He probably upended a candle on top of it himself jumping to get away from the hurlyburly and sought to blame someone else for his foppish clumsiness." muses Burrloft. "I'm ready as well. Let us leave this dreary little snare of ineptitude."

Burrloft bows to the Cleric of Desna "Miss Moongazer, again, most profound thanks for being willing to involve yourself in the plight of strangers. If She of the Spheres graced us with one of her flock, then we are well blessed, indeed." He calls over to the innkeeper "Sir, our visit here was entierly unsatisfactory, but it is not a reflection of you, your fare, or your fine staff. I wish your business all the best, as it need good luck to overcome the local impedments."

Sorry, this post got eaten when I put it up the other day and I didn't notice.

Krane looks utterly confused at his words, "Proof? What sort of proof are you looking for? I will try to do my best. And my antics?! What are you talking about?! I have done nothing! It was MY property that was destroyed in the fight!"

"He's talking about some sort of letter by way of introduction to present to this Willowroot person, you overstuffed boob!" the gnome snaps at Krane. "He's talking about a bit of presentation to display that we are not just ruffians sent to bilk him out of some notable swag... you know like that Black Banner group you apparently sent out to proceed us."

Onyx, please note that I am enjoying this conflict completely. The typical complaint about this module is that it is a bit railroady in the set-up. That and the argumentiveness with the NPCs not a reflection of your DMing or anything, just the way the story is set up. Just wanted to say ;)

Burrloft shrugs at Krane, walks over to the Sheriff and holds his arms out before him. "Manicles, Deputy?"

Diplomacy check (1d20+2=13)

Burrloft keeps an eyebrow expertly arched as he regards the professor. He pushes his sleeves up his arms to display the Varisian tattoos. "We are both men of some learning, sir, and I am not proposing you just turn the information over. I want to learn the process and give you full credit in any future uses of the Krane Shrouding Process. In recovering these items, we are entering into a partnership of sorts. As Feona points out, it was not our actions that caused the destruction of your wares, but if you agree to my terms, I will do my damnedest to get you the items. If you do not agree, then I will let my lazy deputy over there (for as I do his work, apparently, I am a new co-Sheriff) lock me away in debtors prison where I will Fade and die. You will be the death of me and may eventually practice your Krane Technique on my corpse."

I don't know if displaying the tattoos will convince him of any academic credibility, but I'll risk it.

Burrloft purses his lips fighting back comment after comment during the Doctor's pitch. Finally he can take it no longer "So, Sheriff Big-Feet, you penalize the only people around who are capable to help you do you job? What of the other patrons and the Goblin-stink crew? Do they have any 'Grand Task' assigned to them? Although I will grant that we were part of the altercation, we neither started it, nor desired it...but by all means let us bear the burden of paying for it!" His tirade done he sits down in a huff.

After a second, his eyebrows arch and he nods to himself and stands again. "Alright, I'll willingly go along for the task, but I expect a copy of the shroud as well AND, I want a copy of all the notes of your technique and process. This is useful knowledge and I can see much use in it."

Burrloft gives a little chuckle at Nils and falls into a quick step beside him. "Possibly because that's what that big-footed sheriff seems to talk out of. It must be nice having passing travelers doing your job for you."

When they get inside the gnome looks sweetly at one of the serving girls and asks "Could I please get a cloth and some alcohol to clean this owl scratch? I would hate to turn into a wereowl with the next full moon. Actually, that sounds like quite a lark! Turning into a lark could be fun, too...hmmm."

Sorry, I assumed the sheriff took the admitted thief back into the inn with him...

Burrloft nods at the woman and reaches out to shake her hand. His wears several rings and bangles, and as he reaches out, the sleeve of his silk shirt slides down showing a long littany of Varisian tattoos on his forearm. "Thank you for your timely assistance, Madame Marissa. The wicked little beast seems to have been quite the watchdog. I am Burrloft Seguwoxies Folldorall."

When the owl falls dead, Burrloft steps over and gives it a kick in his irritation. As the larcenous gnome is collected by the Sheriff, the little mage can't help a barb in his direction. "You should be of great cheer that you didn't try to pin your malfeasance on me, you reprobate, or else you would be looking to get more than a new familiar."

As the Sheriff leads the prisoner off, Burrloft gives the big human a salute. "Good work, gaoler. Way to delegrate or, duck and cover, or the drink the morning away while other's do your leg work for you."

Burrloft pivots hoping to get a better bead on the owl and swings another telekinetic fist at the creature, but as he turns he nearly trips over a pitchfork that was left on the floor and his magical punch goes awry.

No problem, will note it.

Burrloft's face pinches in anger and he glares at the bird. "Little bugger! Let us see how you like a taste of telekinetic fisticuffs!" He makes a small punching motion with one hand and exerts the force out with his mind, forming a small ghostly fist that streaks toward the raptor.

Ranged touch attack: Telekinetic fist attack against owl (1d20+1=13)
If successful, Damage (1d4=4)

With his concentration on his spell, Burrloft remained fairly flat-footed when the owl swooped at him.

Burrloft initiative (1d20+1=10)

Burrloft smiles at Feona "I have several, Feona, most polished and scintillating like diamond." He moves to the door of the stable and raises his bangled arm before him. "Arcaaniss ocuir ab-roh!" He will proceed to concentrate and move into the stable to see if he can detect the dagger with Detect Magic.

Burrloft continutes to thread his fingers through his ponytail and quickly follows along with the group.

Burrloft's eyebrows raise to improbable heights as the discussion of magic and gnomes continues. He fitfully runs his hands through his inky violet ponytail, weaving them between locks. "Well, I for one feel decidedly discomforted by the direction this is taking. Sheriff, could we please get the innkeeper out here with us?"

Once the owner is outside, Burrloft heaves a heavy sigh, "Sorry to drag you into this further, but, with knowledge that I place my neck upon any potential chop... How many gnomes, including myself, are there around the inn and community?"

Burrloft tilts his head "Small like a gnome, or small like a bird?"

Burrloft nods at Nils "Indeed! That Jobe gentleman mentioned that he had seen that other gnome outside. Indeed, it would be in our best intrests to see if there are any tracks gnomish or otherwise, on the reciprocal of the window."

I'm assuming that Onyx isn't talking for me...

"I find the concept of Ostler stealing the dagger near rediculous... He has almost as much to loose with it being stolen as poor Feona. It was a theft in his establishment, a slap in the face of the hospitality he offers. And if his linen cupboard was indeed near the Sheriff's room, I think that part of the mystery is solved. Although I don't think the suspects and witnesses should be dismissed, I do think that we should view the phyical location for evidence of the crime."

"If he were in his cups too deeply, he might have a difficult time navigating to the outside. I do not deny your thoughts, but he has the look of one besotted the night before. I think it much more likely our laconic cretin there, his goblin toady, and their fat bugger friend. Be sure, I don't rule out that it might have been an act, but I don't think probability favors that."

Burrloft decides to be the good constable to Nafti's bad constable "I am prone to believe this poor man, Nafti. He readily admits to being outside of the room. Sara says he was stumbling, on the verge of passing out... He looks rather penatent, and does nothing to place himself away from the scene. My surmise is that he was there by happenstance of not being able to find a chamber pot."

Burrloft urges Nils to lean down so he can whisper to the man

"Don't let the ruffian scare you, Madame," Burrloft moves to interpose his small frame between the serving girl and the merc. "Just tell the truth of it and we will let no harm befall you. Where is your stinky little goblin friend? Did you pilfer the dagger and pass it off to him so he could abscond with it? I assure you we will get to the bottom of this malfeasance!"

Burrloft barely looks up from the spellbook he had been studying for the last 20 minutes getting ready for the day. "Yescertainlyberightthere," he mumbles and returns to his reading.

updated spell list

Burrloft makes a small nest of his blankets nearest any desk with candle, fireplace, or lightsource, so he can make a few notes in one of his books, look at a couple of his gems by the gleaming light, and then curl up to sleep around his jewelry bag.

"Good Master Luca was delivering to me the bag of trinkets you saw earlier. Although I have some skill in the craft of jewelrymaking, I am not yet a Master Jeweler. This bag gives me several pieces that I may practice upon my lapidary technique, gemcutting, and stone setting methods. Master Luca was able to broker an exchange for me that will advance my education. At any point in the future, if he has need of my services, he has but to ask," the gnome says quite earnestly.

The gnome flashes a knowing nod at Nafti. "Riddleport, eh? Interesting town. Fine examples of Thassilonian archecture there for examination... provided you aren't knifed and left floating face down in the harbor. Riddleport is quite proximal to my youthful stomping grounds."

"I'm Burrloft Seguwoxies Folldorall, and I hale from Korvosa originally. Although I don't actually know this fine little knot of bravos, I can already tell I like their company. Their former employer had business with me, which was completed just before the... festivities of foolishness broke free.

Burrloft looks at the wreched man with an expression of deep sympathy "I am sorry for you loss, sir. It is always a tragedy when artaefacts of such educational benefit are lost from our collective heritage. I do mourn with you."

"You took an unprovolked swing at me, you cretenous lout! Only his pathetic grasp of the pugilistic arts of fisticuffs prevented him from striking me," Burrloft declares loudly and indignantly to the sheriff.

Burrloft does not have a weapon out, so he cannot make an attack of opportunity; instead he screams at the top of his lungs "ABADAR PRESERVE US!! THIEF! THIEF!" He's not panicked in the least as they are not showing lethal force, but he doesn't appreciate being swung at.

Initiative (1d20+1=10)

Burrloft arches a well manicured eyebrow at the man. "Well, by Abadar, so you may claim, but this is niether mine to give nor retain. As far as I'm concerned, Feona is the rightful proprietress of the dagger as it was she who handed it to me. Your claim on the blade would seem fairly diminished by the fact that you were here swilling the local brew rather than feverishly looking for it. At least that is how it presents itself to this casual observer of the situation. As such, I will hand it back to she, who I deem the proper owner." He gives the dagger back to Feona.

What all did the detect magic reveal? If I had a full minute to view it, then I should get some sense of the enchantment.

Burrloft eagerly takes the dagger to examine it, completely absorbed in the object.

I speak/read Gnome, Common, Sylvan, Draconic, and Dwarven. Once I determine if I can read it or not, I will cast Detect Magic on it (an on past toward the unsavory looking group of mercs at the further table).

Burrloft offer the man his hand and a forthright smile "It is an unmittigated pleasure doing business with you, good sir! Your praise will be on my lips in future conversations."

"Greetings, Feona-fair, and your friends. Yes, well, Seguwoxies is an old family name... I cut it out of an very old and very distinguished family with a rusty dagger. I jest, of course. It was my father's father's father's father's Master Jewler's name. It has been associated with us for as long as we have been associated with the shaping of the earth's bounties. And speaking of... Hello lovely little lasses and laddy's!"

He takes the bag of gems and looks at them with a dancing sparkle in his eyes. He closes his eyes, reaches in and plucks out a loose gem at random. "Ahh, Lapis Lazuli! One of my favorites! Punishing magma percolates up into native marble creating this wonderful stone. The flecks in this one are mica, but sometimes there is pyrite, fool's gold, included in the stone giving wonderful lilt to the deep blue tones. Not particularly expensive, but a workable stone that can be used to augment the beauty of jewelry, furniture, and other artwork!"

Burrloft returns the stone, cinches the bag closed, and looks to the man "Master Luca, you have my undivided attention. What business are we seeking? Hmm?"

Burrloft catches the wave from Luca and gives a small, smiling nod. "I am overcome with grief that I must depart from this little presentation. It is a very lovely swatch, but business calls before pleasure." He gives a small bobbing bow to the scholarly man and bustles across to Luca's table. "Fellicitations," he enthuses with another bobbing bow, wrist bangles and necklaces clinking, "I am Burrloft Seguwoxies Folldorall, at your service. Fashoner of jewelry and arcane energies most sublime!"

I can't access the map from this computer. I will have to at home later tonight. I will mail you then; my email is haka21@yahoo.com

Burrloft stands among the small knot of people viewing cloth, occasionally elbowing one of the slack-jawwed yokels when they come to close to stepping on him. He admires it...nothing as enthralling as the jeweled scarf he saw back Korvosa that one time, but it was quite nice. To keep his hands from straying to pet it, he pulls his indigo braid forward and rustles his ringed fingers through the inky strands. "It's a nice piece," he says appriciatively "Very consistent woof and warp. Skillful brocading. Does it have some sort of history?"

Here I am!! Choose me! Choose me!

Just give a couple of bump posts when you have access again, I'll be waiting!! Good luck!

Burloft sticks his head down in the hole looking at the half-orc, his human rescuer, and the dead captain. "For the modicum that it is worth, good Sir, I felt the captain was a vile and pernicious cad of the highest magnitude and I thought that your actions were justified. Messer half-orc, it looked to me that you were being held as slave, but managed to break your bonds, yes? Well, welcome to such freedom as we can have on this ship. But I digress... I can go ahead and start mending this flooring, if you would be so kind as to hold me up a chunk of the boarding that fell through. I can use my magics to reintegrate it with it's proper place in the floor."

He reaches down into the hole and wait expectantly for one of the men down below to hold some wood up for him.

Burrloft stamps his foot in exasperation at having a second spell go off without any productive result. He looks over to where the guard woman Leili is kneeling and hollering down into the lower level. "So tell me, Madame... are you so willing to truck with those that buy and sell sentient beings like chattel? Doesn't the very act of subjugating a free life, battening it down with chains, gall you to the core? It does me! I cannot countenance those who think that man and woman are just meat for commerce. Can you really declare a life saleable for a bag of coin?"

Burrloft frowns as his original spell fails to take hold and lets out a huffy breath. "Fine! Well, I'm of the supposition that a more pugnatiously direct tack would be more effectatious. Not my preferred idiom, but I'll try to make it suffice." Tracing a mystical sigil in the air with his left hand he punches with his right. "Spectriaxium vi'contas cusiffisal!"

Unfortunately, the blow is off the mark and a swish of air occurrs about a foot over the dwarf's head. Attack roll (1d20+1=9)

Now he gets a bonus to AC for size!

Yes, but his weapon will do less damage and he'll have less of a strength bonus. Plus, Burrloft thinks it's an appropriate counter to his bully-like attitude. The gnome yard-stick doesn't always measure the same way that of the bigger races does. I could have cast color spray and tried to knock him out, but where is the poetry in that with such a bustery individual?