Aramis Steele's page

"Rawwwk! To arms! Rawwwk! To arms!" Rotgut screeches, alighting on Aramis' head. The captain swats sleepily at the bird and rolls over, taking the blanket with her.

Rotgut tilts his head at this, his small, animal intellect telling him that something important is happening, and that the woman he was trying to wake wasn't having any of it. As the man above continues yelling, Rotgut digs his claws into Aramis' shoulder and leans forward, his beak reaching for her ear.

--------------------

Rubbing her bleeding ear and muttering a string of salty words, Aramis half-runs, half-stumbles to where she hears Amos yelling, her coat streaming behind her. As she goes, she belts on her pistol and ammo pouch, hops as she pulls on her boots, and jams her hat on her messy-haired head. Rotgut flies ahead, out of reach of her occasional angry swings.

In all, the effect isn't too different from her usual appearance.

"Tha's tha', then?" Aramis asks apprehensively. "Seems a bit too 'ard an' fast."

Hey guys, I just got the internet connected. Might take me a while to get into the swing of things again, but I'm back!

"Oh, now this is somethin' worth me attention!" Aramis laughs, grinning as she reloads with crazed speed. "Ye're gonna be fine, Whiskers. Jus' keep breathin', a'right? Cap'n's orders an' all."

Full-attack, with point-blank shot, deadly aim, rapid shot, and inspire courage. Both shots on the biggun'!

Musket 1: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23 vs. touch
damage: 1d12 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Musket 2: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20 vs. touch
damage: 1d12 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18

Aramis and I will still be here at least

"'Ey! Ye don' speak fer yer Cap'n, lad; Ah speak fer meself!" ;-)

In all seriousness, I'm not going anywhere. I've been a bit stressed due to my ex harassing me, but your comedy of errors is just crazy. Take your time, get it sorted, keep us updated if you can, don't stress if you can't. Best of luck and get well soon to both of you!

"What're those damned things sayin'?" Aramis growls, reloading and firing off two shots in rapid succession. Rotgut squawks indignantly at the noise, flapping clumsily to the relative safety of Indrana's shoulder.

Full-attack, with point-blank shot, deadly aim, rapid shot, and inspire courage. Both shots on dark blue, but if the first one drops him, I'll switch the second to light blue. He gets a +4 bonus to AC for being prone.
Musket 1: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
damage: 1d12 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Musket 2: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
damage: 1d12 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14

Stepping up with her co-captain, Aramis jams her hat down over her messy hair and squints down the sight of her musket. "Just ye try an' take us, ye filthy scum-suckin' bastards," she mutters darkly.

"Rawwwk! Just ye try!" Rotgut echoes, taking up his usual position on her right shoulder.

Moving to my current location, and readying an action against the first sahuagin to get within 30' and line of sight.
Musket: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19 point-blank shot, deady aim, inspire courage; vs. touch AC
damage: 1d12 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14

Aramis doesn't need to be told twice. Her tricorne is grabbed from the table, her musket is transferred from her lap to her hands, and she's hurrying after the others, coat flapping behind her.

Map not helping me either. Aramis will just move as far as she can, but isn't too concerned about a meat shield. :P

The weeks had been long and wearisome. Aramis had spent most of the days fiddling with her guns, trying to take in her plundered coat so it wasn't so baggy, and deliberately avoiding Amos - at least when Rotgut was around. After all, there was no telling what old blabber-beak would say next.

The return is welcome, even if it's only a brief one, and she spits in disgust at the news. "Bloody fishmen," she mutters. "Reckon it's 'bout time ta hunt 'em down an' put a stop ta their chase."

A belt of dexterity would be fantastic, but I'll need to check back through the thread and get Aramis' finances sorted.

Well, here's wishing everyone a speedy recovery. If I could show up with chicken soup, I would, but it'd likely be cold before I got there.

Oh no! Pneumonia's no fun; my stepfather gets it every couple of years. Is everyone doing okay? How are the little ones?

"Yeah, yeah, congrats ta tha couple an' all," Aramis mutters, trying to smooth down her hat hair. "Don' think this means ye don' need ta answer ta yer Cap'ns, though, Furball," she adds with a sharklike grin, taking another glug of her wine.

The after-dinner presentation draws a raised eyebrow, and she briefly inspects the tube handed to her, trying to get a glimpse inside. "Wha' tha devil is this?" she mutters, mostly to herself, before following the instructions to open it.

After a few moments of scowling at the coal, followed by blinking in confusion at the stone, she finds herself hanging her face in one hand as Rotgut takes offense at the orbiting gem and takes it upon himself to squawk loudly and try to peck it out of the air. "Well, this'll take some gettin' used to," the pirate mutters, before clamping the parrot's beak shut amid indignant, yet muffled, noises of protest, and much ruffling of feathers. "A fine gift, though apparently ol' Featherbrain don't like sharin' me 'ead nor tha space around it."

Cap'n wants the armour! Cap'n wants the armour! :P

No joke, it's a +3 bonus over what I have now, and mithril is a godsend for gunslingers >.>

They do complement each other nicely. It's a rather fun Odd Couple situation. Aramis walks the walk, and Maera talks the talk.

I love her too, precisely because she's so uncouth. Where's a coffee table? She needs to put her feet on it! :P

I'm actually kinda glad I rolled low on that AA. It makes sense that Aramis wouldn't do well at a fancy sit-down dinner. She forgets simple rules (like 'don't wear your hat at the table'), has no idea what all the different forks are for, has at least one blackpowder streak on her face, hasn't washed her hair in weeks (and probably hasn't brushed it in several days), and has a foul-mouthed parrot on her shoulder. And we all know she'd pick her teeth with the knife.

In short, she's a liability, and it's probably only her status as Captain that's keeping her from being flogged by Maera, amirite?

"Tha' 'Arrigan won' be so tough wit'out 'is botswain an' first mate," Aramis grins around a crusty slice of bread. Catching the look on Maera's face, she swallows, stops herself from wiping her mouth on her sleeve, and makes sure to not talk with her mouth full for the remainder of the dinner. "Migh' still 'ave a few a' their skull fragments in Fury's deck, come ta think of it." Catching another look, she sighs, sullenly digging into her fish. Sure, her table manners were lacking, and she wasn't so great at all this fancy talk, but it had never really come up until now. After a sudden realization, she sets her hat aside as well, painfully aware of the dreadful state of her hair (in both cut and cleanliness).

Diplomacy (aid another): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Aramis keeps an eye on fortifications and defenses, trying to ignore the itching in her hands and the absence of warm wood and cold steel. "Be god ta get some real food," she agrees. "Ya get many visitors 'ere?"

"Nope, I'm thinkin' practical. Laugh all ye want, but me years as a merc taught me a thing 'r two, an' ye gotta think smart." Aramis nudges the side of her nose with her thumb, leaving a small smudge of blackpowder she appears not to notice. "E'rythin' goes ta hell, whoever's in there needs ta get out as soon's they can, eh? Whiskers, now, 'e c'n turn feral an' chow down on anyone that tries anythin'. Furball's got enough fancy mind magics she c'n prolly turn a man's 'ead ta jelly. Puttin' aside tha fact I'd rather 'ave you in there wit' us, if e'rythin' goes south, what've ye got? No gun, no 'orse, an' somethin's like ta 'appen to ye." She glances sideways to Maera, adding, "A' course, me co-cap'n might think otherwise."

Rotgut finally manages to free his beak and squawks loudly to punctuate the captain's speech as effectively as any apostrophe. "Rawwwk! Contingency plan!" he adds, looking very pleased with himself.

Aramis mutters a curse, her face darkening like the sky before a storm. "Well, tha's a b~$%$," she growls. "I'm inclined ta suggest either Furball or Whiskers, meself."

Pushing the bedhead up against the door? I happen to have a very fine hat; maybe hanging that on the doorknob? :P

-Posted with Wayfinder

Well, I'm glad. Aramis may be really bad at flirting, but she does have a soft spot for Amos. :P

Also, I think Aramis has a lesson or two to learn about what she says around Rotgut. You know how I love to torment my characters from time to time? I thought this was appropriate. :P

As Aramis watches the Rock approach, Rotgut tries in vain to free his beak from the thin strip of leather tied around it. He gives a muffled squawk, digging his claws into Aramis' shoulder. "Nope. Not ready ta free ye yet. Ye're gonna hafta put up with it a while longer, ye lyin' bird. Maybe tha'll teach ye ta keep yer big beak shut." She smirks, amused by the bird's indignant ruffling and noises.

She keeps her arms folded across her chest, briefly raising her hands to show they're empty. "Nice goin', lass," she mutters to Maera. Raising her voice, she calls, "An' I'm Cap'n Aramis Elizabeth Mirian Steele. As tha lady says, we're 'ere ta talk. Lovely place ye got 'ere; we'd love ta see more of it."

Diplomacy (aid another): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Rotgut tries to repeat Aramis' last words, but all that he can manage is a muffled screech.

Just when I was starting to really recover from my breakup, my beautiful spaniel Ruby-Charles died this morning. She was my first real pet, and she's left some big fuzzy boots to fill. Posting may be a bit hit-and-miss while I try to heal. Sorry to do this again so soon, but sometimes the d20 of life falls on a 1.

Aramis is antsy at peace-bonding her musket. She's far too used to the familiar wood and steel in her hands, the feeling of security that comes from simply having it. The thought of not having Amos there either... "Well, I've kinda liked havin' ye 'round," she mutters, avoiding eye contact. "Ye seem well-travelled, pro'lly know a thing or two could help us out in there..."

"Rawwwwk! Got a nice arse!" Rotgut squawks, as if trying to help. Aramis' hand suddenly appears closed around the parrot's beak without appearing to traverse the intervening space.

"Wait. Ye mean ye're not comin' wit' us?" Aramis asks, wheeling to face Amos. Her normally accusing face melts for just a moment, showing genuine worry and concern. "An' 'ere I was gettin' used ta yer company," she mutters, shaking her head. She turns her back on the man, watching the Rock instead.

"Well, we doin' this or wha'?" she asks, a little louder and harsher than is entirely necessary.

"I was worried ye'd say tha'," Aramis sighs, shaking her head at Sandara. "Not used ta bein' apart from me ol' friend." Stretching out her back, she grumpily relents, "But, I guess it makes sense enough. If we c'n all fit, we best be off. See if we can't take this thing on virtue a' pretty words alone. Sure you c'n handle tha', eh?" she adds, grinning admiringly at Maera.

So, it's coming into summer here in South Australia, and that means it's fire season. We've had several Catastrophic danger levels this month. (The scale is Low - Moderate - High - Very High - Severe - Extreme - Catastrophic, because Australia does not f+*~ around.)

Today, we had a fire start out near my place of employment, which is in a rural area. Even though the wind was blowing away from us, we evacuated the whole site just to play it safe. And because it's a primary school, that resulted in 350 terrified kids and stressed teachers being kept indoors and taking drink and toilet breaks in pairs, while every member of leadership and support staff rang the parents of every child to evacuate them. I'm home now, and all the main roads near me have been closed off. I'm safe, but shaken, and it's made me realize that there may well come a time when I'm affected by a fire and won't be able to get online and let everyone know. If that happens, I'll try to get a real-life friend with a Paizo account to spread the word.

GM and Maera, congrats on your retirement! I hope the scenario was kickass :D

Maera and I are playing a retirement scenario this weekend for our PFS characters. We will return to our regularly scheduled programs tomorrow evening!

That's fantastic! You crazy kids have fun! :P

"Wha' d'ye think lass?" Aramis asks, looking across at Maera. "You an' me, a' course. Maybe take Amos an' Cass, good civilized folk? No offense, Whiskers," she adds, winking at Diabolito.

Aramis spends the travel time alternately mixing ip new powders and pellets; teaching Rotgut colourful new curses; and seeking out Amos. There's always something wrong, it seems - the powder doesn't seem quite right; perhaps he could have a look at it? She isn't sure how to get her stock shining brightly enough; did he have any suggestions? Rotgut seemed to enjoy perching on Bullet's head; was it hurting the horse, did he think?

When Sandara identifies the landmass before Fury as Tidewater Rock, Aramis gives her a brief stare. "I'm assumin' by tha way yer sayin' tha', we can't exactly jus' walk right up an' start crackin' eh?"

Throwing caution to the wind, Aramis writes off the sinking ship and hurries over to Amos. "Now why'd ye 'ave ta go an' get yerself stuck like that?!" she demands angrily, reaching as if to yank the harpoon out but apparently thinking better of it. "Come on. Let's get ye off tha' friend a' yers an' get ye fixed up, eh?" she adds, her voice and eyes softening slightly. "Ye did good on tha' bastard."

Did I fail to hit the rope?

-Posted with Wayfinder

Oh no! Where did our map go??

"Amos!" Aramis yells in alarm as the harpoon embeds itself in the master gunner's leg.

"Rawwwk! Amos! Amos!" Rotgut screeches, perched unhappily on the captain's sidearm, bobbing his head in distress.

Muttering something about fried chicken and making do, Aramis takes aim - not at the ghostly captain, but at the rope attached to the harpoon.

Musket: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17
damage: 1d12 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

Aramis isn't happy. On the one hand, she wants to deal the killing shot to the ghostly captain, to claim him herself. On the other, Cassius is about to get swarmed with zombies.

Sighing, she takes aim at the one he's already damaged, sending a balm-coated bullet at it.

Musket: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23 on light blue; same modifiers as before.
damage: 1d12 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

Forgot to add in my last post - I deal an extra 2d4 points of damage to undead creatures, and if he's incorporeal, it affects him as if I were using a magic weapon (half damage, I believe).

-Posted with Wayfinder

Looks as though Whalebone is in point-blank range! :D

BLAM

The musket-fire rings out over the din of battle as Aramis empties a bullet (specially-coated in the balm Doc had so graciously provided) into the ghastly captain. Even as the bullet is on its path, she's heading over the gangplank, determined to get closer to her target.

Musket: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16 inspire courage, deadly aim, point-blank shot
damage: 1d12 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

I think this is the level at which Aramis gets a bit crazy.

Just so you all know, I'll be a bit absent for a while. Not going anywhere, just dealing with a break-up that's left me feeling shattered and drained. I'll keep posting when I can.

What are our our options for getting across to the other ship?

Would it be possible to craft up some Holy Weapon Balm? It would help make our firearms more effective against the 'living impaired'. Best bet would probably be to get Doc to craft some up (if he's still on board) or for Aramis to get some help (if he isn't).

"Ghost ships. Not so fonda bein' hunted by legends," Aramis mutters, eyes darkening as she watches the space where the ship used to be. "Come on, lad. Let's see if we can't go makin' these boomsticks more effective 'gainst ghosts." Nodding to Amos, she makes her way belowdecks, muttering something about balms and salts.

Sorry for my silence. The last few days have been really rough, and I've had to take a step back for my own mental stability. I'm back now, and I should be able to resume some semblance of a normal posting schedule.

However, I will be out of town from Friday night to Sunday night (my time). The fella and I are having weekend in Victor Harbour to recharge our batteries, and I may not be able to post. If it holds things up, bot me.

Standing by Amos, Aramis looks out over the dark waters. On her shoulder, Rotgut ruffles his fathers before pecking at the recently-attached epaulets on the captain's purloined coat.

"Ye reckon we could take it, lad?" the gunslinger murmurs, glancing sidelong at the older man. "Worst comes ta worst?"

"Interesting; define 'interesting'?"
"Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die?"

"We're bein' followed," Aramis mutters, pulling apart a hard biscuit and passing half up to Rotgut, currently perched on her bicorne. "Tha', or this is a particularly good spot fer whalin'."

Awwww, but a big old explosion keeps things interesting...

Whistling tunelessly, Aramis tries on the hat, and holds one of the epaulets up to the shoulder of her coat. "Well, what d'ye think?" she asks, grinning broadly at Maera, then Amos. "Did ye see tha way 'is 'ead blew out?" she chuckles weakly, her grin shrinking by a molar or two. "Man, reminds me a' tha day we took Fury," she sighs, leaning against the wheel and staring out to sea. "'Ow long's it been, anyway? All tha days seem ta run together."

• +1 BAB, CMB, CMD
  
• +7 hp (6 from class, +1 CON)
  
• FCB - + 1/4 of a grit point
  
• Musket Training 1 - add DEX modifier to musket damage rolls; increase misfire value by 2 rather than 4 following a misfire
  
• Feat - Rapid Shot

Aramis is done!