|
|
||||||||||||||||||
| Paizo Pathfinder® GameMastery® Planet Stories® Paizo Games | |||||||||||||||||||
| About Paizo Messageboards News Paizo Blog Help/FAQ | |||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Posts
 Recent Posts
Before charging, Grond will glance to his right and try to ascertain what has happened to Roylenna. (He has no spellcraft, he just wants to see if she's standing, fallen over, etc.) Then he charges with the fury of a thousand angry ettins (which would be two thousand worth of angry I guess, being two-headed, or maybe anger comes from the heart, so it is back to merely a thousand anger...moving on!) Rolls
Uh oh! Fort (1d20 1=14) Oops will, actually the roll would be 13 If given the chance, Grond will slaughter all who stand before him.
Grond shrugs indecisively as to which direction. "It matters not, lest we stop moving, that is what I fear." Rolls:
Sorry about the brief post, Friday's at work are always hectic, not to mention now that Im home Im getting ready to DM my tabletop game, but my plan was (if possible) to charge the little devil in 5309 if possible. If not, Grond will round the bend and go 2X movement into the southern room, looking for a little bugger to fell.
"We need a distraction to give this barbarian her chance to rush them." Grond whispers as they prepare for the counter-ambush. Grond is rubbing his hands together as he imagines the piles of loot they must have accumulated. "I will be right behind you, Kar-kar." He hefts is massive falchion and rests it upon his brutish shoulder
"Woman, if you knew the dangers we have faced you would understand how carefully we must tread." Grond unconciously stroked his much-cracked skull as he spoke. Grond quickly steps out from under the net himself, handing the grapple back bruaquely as he steps past. He motions the others back, then turns to the woman. "There is a commotion ahead, and I guess it to be our captors. What say we do a bit of capturing of our own?" At this point Grond will attempt to decipher the nature of this trap, and will attempt to disable it in order to shift it twenty feet further down the hall and re-set the trap. Before he makes the attempt, he will turn back to the others. (Edit: just realized the net cant be shifted due to it being so close to the room. Will attempt to disable, but NOT destroy the trap.) "This may draw the enemy down on us, but at least we'll be prepared!" He begins work. The basics:Per, stl, init (1d20=15, 1d20=19, 1d20=10)
Trapwise:App, clm, dis, s/hnd (1d20=14, 1d20=1, 1d20=15, 1d20=20)
Grond attempts to grab the grapple before the insane female gets them all killed. To hit? Dex? Here's a 20: not sure (1d20=18) Dex bonus +3, to hit bonus also +3 "Foolish girl, I should strike you down for that!" He looks towards the others. "What is going on here?"
I thought you might've sent me the wrong way, but wasn't too worried about it. Grond will give the sandy room a cursory examination before the twanging, miraculously heard over the antics of the party behind him, send him running swiftly and silently down the other passage. He mutters "Excuse me" as he dashes past the shananigans at the hole in the ceiling, pausing only long enough to give the hot blonde a once-over, before continuing with his mission: to stalk and wait for an opponent to backstab. He is now crouching down the RIGHT-hand passage. (right?)
Grond makes sure of his concealment and positioning. If something is going to come down this hallway, he want to be there right behind it unseen, ready for a backstab! If possible, he will try and signal the others to silence, but his main concern is being ready for whatever might come their way. He will slowly switch from javelin to Falchion, a sure sign of trouble for anyone watching him.
Grond shrugs non-comitally as the faerie fires dart away, interfering with his natural darkvision. He looks towards the way un-lightened, and will creep forty feet down the hallway (1o ft out of the light radius) and do the usual searching bit. Falchion 'pon his arched back, a javelin with a fire-blackened point in hand, he slinks forward, hugging the walls, and ever aware for danger. Perception: 8+5=13
"It's not that, Doc, this place just gives me the creeps is all." Grond strecthes, barely feeling the wound.() He casts a scornful look at the device that nearly tore him in half a moment ago. "Yes," he thinks, "I could get used to this. "So, father.." Gond brings up before stalking back to the front,"you must tell me about these powers of yours sometime." Perception: 18+5=23
"Ouch! I knew something was wrong!" After any patching up, we will continue on as before. New rolls: Perception: 6+5=11
Grond slumps his shoulders and nods, returning to his place at the point. He waves to the others and stalks back into the passage, veering northwards. His falchion strapped to his back, Grond prods the ground with his javelin and moves slowly, ready to stop. Perception: 4+5=9
"I can climb down and check things out. Just be ready to help if something big and ugly and green comes out of that hole." Grond points to areas where the other members can get good covering arcs. Grond will hide and move quietly along the cave floor, checking for traps especially once he nears the opening, and will also listen. Perception: 2+5=7
Grond will waste no time, but continue to swing his falchion in great sweeping arcs about the chamber. If given the opportunity to flank or otherwise catch an opponent flat-footed, he will do so gladly. When the grisly task is done, Grond will ask if there are any objections to moving on, now that everyone is up, and will suggest the hallway on the far left (nw?) and will move out, once all are ready, keeping 10' out of thew radius of light cast by the rest of the party (typically 40'.) To Hit:10 +3=13
To Hit:9 +3=12
current hp: 2
Perception: 2+5=7
Craptastic? He lived! Heh, Grond will sleep the night in bliss, dreaming of long tall bottle of wine. His aches, pains, throbbings, concussions, a sprain, contusion, excursion, inntrusion, and bruisin' are all reminders that he still lives.
He awakes (2 hp? So total of 4) ready to try one of the halls, reminded by the lack of a clanking sound in his purse.
Swimming through blackness, with nothing left to hold him to thetiny thread of life except for the throbbing pain of his wounds, Grond watches his life flash before his eyes: His youngest memories, that of a babe, a few months old at most. He woke to pain and suffering, never knowling his father (a savage demon from one of the terrifying orcish tribes) and he only knew his mother for a short time, despised until she disappeared. Next, he sees himself at a young age, spry, and able to go nearly anywhere in town he wanted. Sure there were times he went without a meal, but he teels himself: Gotta steal to eat, gotta eat to live, otherwise we'd get along! But he knows that isnt true. The thick greasy-grey skin, the pig-like snout, instantly despised by all who saw him. So he kept himself unseen. He knows who he is: he is a vile orc, and his orcish blood boils in his veins. He can be terrible, and has. His deeds are not valiant. But there is another side to him, a voice so small. The voice tells him that all is not for naught, that there is good in the world, and that there is good in him too. He wishes this voice would shut up! But it only grows lounder nad more insistent as time goes by. Neutrality for him is to keep both voices from howling in his ears, to balance between these two broken halves of a whole that can never be mended. Not in this life. A wagon, a sunny day, a marketplace. He knew the world well, and these were the good days. He chewed an apple plucked from a stall, and listened to the lady talk of travel. The young halfling looked so earnest! He chuckled to himself. Then she mentioned orcs... Bonked on the head by a giant, flattened and out. The green enveloping rays pulled him back. More pains, more bonks, more darkness, but each time the green fire pulls him back, and so it does this time as well... Bleary-eyed, he looks into the face of an orc, inches away. Just then the orcs eyes go wide, and he sees Rana's boot, and the orc is dead. "Good riddence." he mutters to himself, glad that he need'nt reach for his falchion, at least not yet. He passes out... He wakes up, propped in a sitting position, and watches as the healer fusses over the body of the orc. "Leave it!" Grond shouts, or croaks rather. "It'll be bones by morning, priest. As will we." One last time he opens his eyes. "Wine! Give me wine!" he shouts. He will then follow Roylenna's instructions in a daze for the next 8 hours, attempting to sleep whenever he is motionless for 10 seconds or longer. "We must go forward or back," he mumbles.
Did killing the orc really piss people off or is this just good RP? just asking. I thought it was awesome. Heh. The whole "are monsters evil?" discussion can and has brought many adventures to a standstill and we should be careful. Killing is a big part of D&D, and if we open a moral can of worms then there is no telling how it will end. I take the philosophy that unlike our real world where we have freee will, in the D&D world good and evil EXIST, and monster are just plain EVIL. Shrug. I see where Proteus is coming from, however I also see many potential dangers with EVERY single encounter if we have to ask questions first each time. "Excuse me liche, are you a good liche or a bad liche? Ahh my eyes!" But thats just me...
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
