Amarok of the Ancients's page

I know I was just recently gone, but I'll also be completely offline on a camping trip Thursday through Saturday. It's been a busy June!

Amarok, from his perch on the crates, readies an attack against the Aspis agent should he come any closer.

MW falchion, higher ground: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 + 2 = 172d4 + 1 ⇒ (1, 4) + 1 = 6

aid diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

"They speak the truth," Amarok says. "It is in your best interest to work with us."

Amarok finds a position behind some boxes and prepares to cast spells at any attackers.

Positioned on map...

Amarok listens to the others discuss the honor of the ambush.

"I see no reason we could not have some surprises in store, should they attack."

Amarok looks at the ship.

"The spirits of my ancestors whisper words of slumber. If we find guards, I may be able to put them to sleep. For a while, at least."

Amarok reads the papers they have found carefully, taking note of the names that had allowed the Whip to spread.

"Perhaps this information will be helpful to Magali. We should go back and tell her what we have found," he suggests.

Amarok glares at the alchemist, and waves of primal anger strike the Leper.

Casting daze, DC 14 Will

Sorry to miss the end of First Steps. I had less connectivity than I thought I would. I'll update and am ready for the next part.

Amarok nods as they listen to their instructions.

"We will stop this experimental drug," the half-orc promises.

FYI, I will be traveling today for 10 days (Washington DC, upstate NY, and Niagara Falls).

I am unsure as to my connectivity and time availability, but will post when I'm able.

Please bot me, if necessary! :)

Boo. Miss the AoO, and take the dex dmg!

Amarok is surprised by the creature's tenacity and speed, and poison courses through his veins.

He steps back and responds with a strike from his falchion, hitting soundly but not dealing the damage he thought it would. not silver

AoO, MW falchion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 82d4 + 1 ⇒ (4, 1) + 1 = 6

fort save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

MW falchion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 222d4 + 1 ⇒ (1, 2) + 1 = 4
CRIT?: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 72d4 + 1 ⇒ (2, 1) + 1 = 4

Amarok runs into the room and attempts to strike the creature before it is aware of him.

MW falchion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 102d4 + 1 ⇒ (2, 1) + 1 = 4

Amarok smirks at the discussion of political systems.

"For orcs, there is only battle," he says. "There is little room for thought of caste systems. The strongest survive, and nature buries the weak. So the Ancients whisper to me," he adds.

Looking toward the next room, he says "Why don't we help your servant see reason."

Also remember that we're not here to make any decision...just deliver the supplies and look into things. We have a lot of information. We could certainly just report that to the Silver Crusade and let them decide. I think we have enough to report back and move to the next task.

"What about medicine?" Amarok asks the children. "Is there always plenty when you are sick?"

Amarok sniffs as the woman brushes off his comments about her alcoholism.

"Very well. We are here to deliver supplies. Why don't you tell us how things are going here," he says.

diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

Amarok, looking more orc than human, is accustomed to barbed remarks.

"I ask if you are the caretaker because we are here to deliver supplies from the Silver Crusade, and I fear the children might not do so well...given the alcohol you enjoy so much," the half-orc retorts.

"You are the caregiver for these children, are you not?" Amarok asks as he notes the tell-tale signs of an alcoholic.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

heal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Amarok finishes talking to the girl and turns to the others.

"We should try the door."

Rest of us ready to knock?

diplo redo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22 much better!

DM Red, you are Amazing! You are, by far, the fastest DM on these boards. I can't believe how quickly you get through these. Very fun and enjoyable, though sometimes I have a hard time keeping up!

Amarok looks at the little girl dusting the lamps.

"It is good to learn to work. What other work do you do?" he asks her.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Using my 2 shiny new prestige points for the obligatory wand of inflict cure light wounds.

Fallen Fortress only awards 1 PP, though, correct?

Amarok steps back a pace from the others and begins casting a spell to hopefully end things quickly.

sleep, DC 15 Will, targeting crock if it is up still, otherwise trog. 1 round cast time.

"What happened to the rest of your group?" Amarok asks darkly.

Amarok throws a javelin into the room, hitting the troglodyte to the east side G3.

javelin: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 211d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
CRIT?: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 131d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 If crit, 9 dmg

I have one CLW memorized, but I guess none of us has a wand for healing, right? Happy to lay this spell on whoever needs it most, though.

Amarok takes his only ranged weapon and throws it at the skeleton.

javelin: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 171d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Amarok looks quizzically at Lauranna, but draws an acid flask from his bandolier.

"They did not look very friendly before, young one!" he utters before throwing the flask. waiting until Bait is clear, of course.

acid flask, ranged touch: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 141d6 ⇒ 1

Amarok's eyes glow with an ancient flame. He extends his hand, and a wave of fire erupts toward the bats.

He then falls back away from them. I'll move into the room we came from.

burning hands: 1d4 ⇒ 3 1.5 dmg to swarm

Amarok looks around at the various items in the armory.

"This place is infested...we will need to take great care," he says as he follows the others up the stairs.

Amarok, with a little of Lauranna's luck, strikes a mighty blow against one of the troglodytes, despite feeling ill.

falchion, flank, sickened: 1d20 + 1 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 1 + 2 - 2 = 162d4 + 1 ⇒ (1, 3) + 1 = 5
falchion, flank, sickened: 1d20 + 1 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 1 + 2 - 2 = 182d4 + 1 ⇒ (2, 3) + 1 = 6

Amarok struggles with the stench.

"A hideous defense!" he says, but rushes to assist in battle, slashing at the nearest opponent. G2

fort save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
fort save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

falchion, sickened: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 1 - 2 = 142d4 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (4, 1) + 1 - 2 = 4

"Perhaps we can satisfy it with some food," Amarok says. "If not, we will send it the way of all the world," he adds with a hand on his falchion.

Amarok nods in satisfaction as the spider is brought to its end.

After exploring and finding no other way up, he joins the others in scaling the tower.

climb: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (18) - 3 = 15

Amarok peers up at the giant spider, draws a javelin, and casts it with his might. Unfortunately, his aim is poor.

javelin atk: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 71d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Amarok moves closer, and for a moment it appears a spirit is swirling around him.

A nimbus of flame appears in his hand, which grows to a ball of flame that the shaman hurls at the spider.

ranged touch, touch of flame: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 101d6 ⇒ 6

Amarok charges the nearest canine with his falchion, battle lust in his eyes.

falchion, charge: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 1 + 2 = 152d4 + 1 ⇒ (2, 3) + 1 = 6

Amarok watches the starving animals come toward the group.

"It has ever been this way, from the dawn of time!" he says as he draws a javelin from a sling at his back.

"War, survival!" he says as he casts a javelin, though it sails over the heads of the quickly-advancing dogs.

javelin: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 101d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Amarok raises an eyebrow at Bait's question, but does not seem offended.

"I have lived for quite some time," he responds, "But represent and carry with me those who have lived since the beginning of time."

He smiles politely at Echi. "May it be so," he nods.

A half-orc shaman stands before the group. Though clearly he has some human heritage, he has more orcish features than human, as if a half-orc mated with a full orc. He has wise eyes and thick white hair. Fine wrinkles line the shaman's face, becoming more obvious when he speaks.

Bones and fetishes ornament his battered scale armor, and he wields a falchion after the manner of many orc. A radiant light shines behind his eyes, he has the faint smell of smoke about him.

"I am Amarok. May my ancestors watch over us," he says.

For a moment, a hungry spectral flame dances around his body.

O for now...will post more later today. Sorry for the delay, wasn't able to check the boards on Sunday.

Player: PatheticWretch
Character: Amarok of the Ancients
PFS# 132076-38
Faction Scarab Sages

No day job.

Thanks for running this! :)

I'd be in for the evergreen trilogy...