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Archibald's brow furrows in confusion at Cao's boasts. "We... we are?" he gives the youth a searching look. "If we're emperors... I won't have to wear any of those outlandish clothes you have on, will I? Emperor or no, I'm keeping my hat." Glad that that's sorted, Archibald clears his throat and returns to the conversation at hand, staring with blatant incomprehension on his face as he taps his foot impatiently.
Archibald will join in Abedesi's examination of the statue, muttering his every thought out loud and managing to be altogether unhelpful. "Now. Where was I? ... Hrm." he pauses. "I could have sworn there was something... Oh Archibald you old fool, what was it? How am I to get anything done with this unsufferable memory of mine? Oh... Oh... Oh! Yes. You might want to stand back." he says, putting the bracers onto his wrist with a stoic expression on his face. With the hall cleared he puffs himself up, stands tall and... takes several paces down the hall. Clearing his throat, he bellows from as far down the hallway as he dares. ""
The wizard, murmuring to himself as he examines the bracers, seems to hardly hear the young princeling. He winces, inserts a crooked finger into his ear, and digs around for some time before staring down at Cao. "Terribly sorry, what were you saying? I couldn't hear you over this confounded ringing in my ears! Why, it's quite the burden being so old." he says, with the slightest hint of cheek behind his weary sigh. He turns to the Samurai, stamping his foot impatiently as Cao's hooting laughter continues. "As I was... As I was saying they've... they've an enchantment upon them not unlike a simple mage armour spell, and...-I say, what is so funny?- at the very least until we return to the Lodge -would you stop that infernal giggling?- and I... er... Shall we press on, then? Confound it, boy! Have you been ensorcelled? Run afoul of an aboleth? Get up!"
Archibald clutches his staff ready to strike, but nearly topples over in fright as Etta discharges her weapon. "Aiiiiiiieeeeee! I... er, hrmmmyes. Well done and all that. Yes. Ahem... hoo..." The wizard needs to steady himself for a moment, clutching at his heart and huffing and puffing for a minute before regaining his composure.
With the additional +1 of Abedesi's bless, everything looks in order. I'd forgotten the extra +1 from strength however. Good catch! Too late for an edit but thats 4 rather than 3 damage. And yeah, I've always put a lot of stock on strength as an attribute on any low level character, no matter their BAB. At the higher levels, Pathfinder Polymorph and Tenser's Transformation can both benefit from a good strength score, and mirror image can make up for his appaling dex (although that said, I'm currently going strong for the "most times unconcious" award this week)
"Huh... bwuh...? Harumph, well I'm not dead, at least." he grumbles, staring wide eyed at the man's holy symbol. He continues in well-practiced Dwarvish, too proud to say his thanks in common. "" He grips Abadesi by the shoulders and, agonizingly slow, pulls his way groaning to his feet. "oooooooooooff... -huff-" his eyes glaze over the young prince. He grabs Cao by the shoulders, leaving a thin trail of blood, damp, and blindheim bile on his imperial regalia. "Yes, yes, quite right m'boy. The door. mmmmyes. The door."
"Aha! This looks like some kind of scribing room. An archive perhaps? Just what we're looking for. Come! We'll hole up in here. Quickly now." he snaps impatiently, ushering the others inside and sealing the chamber shut. "Aha! And here are our trade agreements. Look here, this one mentions the Li family katar... er, katana. What's that then, some sort of dessert platter? Can't imagine why they're sending us to a mouldy old ruin for a dessert dish, jade or no. It's nonsense, is what it is!" Archibald will engage in a fruitless search for some ink to begin his report, cursing as he finds none and settling down to examine the bottles.
"Hrm... Some kind of potion, and three vials of... water?" Dwarvish: I am forever grateful, Master Dwarf. May Torag forge you anew in the halls of your ancestors.
"Hw... Wha... Who's that? Not that wretched ghoul? I thought I told you to begone! Why, the nerve! You're lucky I'm busy or I'd turn you into a pile of ash, you insufferable bag of... Aiiiiiiieeee! Back! Back I say!" he says, shrieking as the blindheim sinks it's teeth into his leg. With little to hope for save that the creature doesn't like the taste of dust, old age and desparation, Archibald bats at him with his staff.
"Ah! See? Nothing to be concerned about. Nothing at all, my dear! It appears to be little more than a... Oh. Oh dear."
Archibald's hat seems to leap from his head as he dives for cover, the jet of water passing in between them as his hat lands in a sopping heap on the floor. "Oof, blast it all, my back's giving out." he says, struggling to his feet with a wince. He'll retrieve his hat from the floor and begin to wring it out. "All part of the... ooooooooooohhh ... scientific process. I want to know everything about this Taliq Asad's fortress for my report. Some wizard I'd be if all I brought back were a few mouldy trade agreements, eh?" he continues, clearly delighted to have so many people listening to him. Well, so many people standing in earshot of him for any length of time. "I've always been fascinated by the Qadiran's grasp of elemental magic. Do you think perhaps he has a genie? That would be a sight to see. Why, perhaps he was a mage himself. Yes, that seems likely. Then perhaps..." he says, cutting himself off as the creature emerges from the hallway.
"" he snaps, shoving his sopping-wet hat back onto his head and miraculously managing to shield his eyes in the process. "Blast! It's a... It's a..."
"Hw... Wha... Nonsense! You don't think it could be another trap do you? Hrm, hold on... why... it's another trap! -Ahem-" he says, mouth hanging open as he loses his train of thought. "Hrm... What were you saying, my dear?" "Ah! Yes." His whiskers twitch into a smile at the recognition. He'd been telling people as much for years, and it pleases him to see people are coming around. "You know that's very kind of you. Most people write me off as a doddering old fool! I mean, can you imagine?" He stands by as Hooli completes her examination, dusting off his robes and peering over her shoulder as she does so. "Now, where was I...? Ah, yes! It reads... ..."
"Look here!" the old man says, tossing aside a few bones with the tip of his staff and stooping over, with some difficulty, to retrieve the golden crown. "This is some find. Some find indeed. -Ahem- Now. The scroll is of rather elementary magics, it allows one to read any script and hear any tongue as if it were her own. I'm already capable of casting such a spell. Are any among you familiar with the art?" He'll also move to examine the hydra statue. "Such craftsmanship! And more Kelish script." he says, polishing his spectacles and leaning in closely. "-Ahem-, well now... It reads-"
Round 1: Archibald's eyes turn bleach-white for a moment as his head turns and fixes on the skeleton. . His wits, however, take a little longer to catch up. His gnarled fingers dance, and begin to glow with a pale, eerie light, but he cannot seem to find a shot. With an impatient groan, his magic fizzles out he lifts the hem of his robe, hobbles toward the skeleton and begins to bat it over the head with his heavy staff.
Folding his arms and grumbling, Archibald is content to leave the fighting to the others, barely sparing the creature a glance. "... I mean it defies sense. What possible purpose could it serve? Aside from disposing of salesmen and doorknockers?" he rambles, seemingly oblivious to the unfolding combat . "No, the great Taliq Asad does not want to buy any of your confections and he certainly doesn't want to donate to the Church of the Inheritor's relief fund for Mendevian Veterans, now stop bloody well knocking or I'll file a complaint. ." "Hrm. Perhaps there's some stock to that theory, Archibald m'boy. Make sure you include that in your report, eh?" he says, no longer shaking with rage. He turns toward the proceedings behind him. "Hrm... Bw... Wh... Wha?" "Oh! -Ahem- It's only a... only a... hrm... What is it?" Archibald stares at the creature with the eager curiosity of the chronically academic. If there's room in the melee, he'll give it a poke with his quarterstaff. For science. If not he'll stand just outside the fray, standing on his toes and trying to get a good look at it.
"How very curious, do you think there will be oth-" he begins, as the torrent of wind hits him square in the chest, knocking the breath out of him. The breeze, however, is no match for the wizard's stubbornness, and he plants his staff firmly in the ground and weathers the blast until it subsides. He stands in stunned silence, punctuated only by the sound of him blowing out a mouthful of beard. "Confound it all! What - huff - what kind of -puff- damned fool contraption is this? Harumph, if I could get my hands on that architect I'd give him a piece of my mind." he says, flustered and red-faced. "All I say is '' and it tries to blow me halfway to... Oh. Drat."
The wizard takes a deep, rattling breath, nose twitching in agitation as he tries to maintain some illusion of calm. It is clear that his temper has reached it's boiling point. Steam is practically pouring out of his ears. To provoke him now would perhaps not be the wisest course. He pushes past Cao and Hooli and hobbles, fuming, into the slime-filled room.
"'', it reads." the wizard says, stroking his beard and chuckling at his own brilliance. "Meaning 'air'. How very curious. Do you think there will be others?" As the others attempt to push past him the wizard holds his ground. "A moment. A moment, damn you!" he blusters, eyes glazing over as he sends his senses to scout out the spider chamber.
Archibald stares in blatant incomprehension at Cao, unsure if he is supposed to take offence. His brows furrow and his mouth opens and closes several times, seething in indignation at the youth's laughter. "Dim, is it? Why, you wretched little tadpole, you puffed-up precocious little peacock, I aught to... I aught to... What was I saying?" He pauses, acknowledging the ghoul for the first time in several minutes. "Gods, you don't mean to bring her inside, do you? She'll alert the whole confounded lot of them!" Archibald grumbles, unable to meet the Samurai's stare. "You. Ghoul. We're under strict orders from Major Colson to eliminate any undead we come across. Run along now and we can pretend this unfathomable waste of time never happened. Pip-pip!"
Archibald's whiskers twitch into something that barely resembles a smile. You come to the horrifying realisation that this is him trying to be agreeable.
"Ha" Indignant at his companions blatant disregard for his superior wizardry, Archibald hobbles inside the complex, pushing past Hooli mid-search, his grumbling and the tapping of his staff echoing in the dark as he moves to the relief on the northern wall to examine the Kelish runes, lighting up his staff as he goes. Once his curiosity is satisfied he'll hover by the door again, peering expectantly at the others from beneath the brim of his over-large hat. "I'm a very old man, and I don't have all day, blast you!"
"Of course we bloody well will! I didn't walk all that way for nothing!" the wizard snaps, hobbling toward the door and motioning for the others not to follow. "Now this looks like wizard's work." he says, peering at the door over the rim of his dusty eyeglasses. "" The wizard throws his arms wide, pulling out a long scroll from the folds of his enormous spellbook, erupts into some largely unnecessary chanting and casts open/close. Suitably impressed with himself he turns to receive the due adoration for... opening the front door.
"All Golarion? All Golarion my hat! My word, just who is this confounded Emperor you keep prattling on about?"
Archibald sets out with a sullen look on his face, knowing he'll be parted from his warm hearth and Favorited pair of slippers for quite some time. He makes the arduous journey even more tedious, with complaints about the weather, the pace, the blisters on his feet and the lack of respect for wizards in this day and age.
As the woman drops down from above, Archibald lets out a startled yelp, which he attempts to pass off as a chuckle. "Aiiiieeeee! ... Aheh... ahahaha... Aha! It'll take more than that to sneak up on this wizard!"
"I happen to have just the spell for this occasion! Yes..." he shouts, muttering to himself. "Yes, yes. Now which spell to cast? Blast it all! Is she undead or not?" Peering at her from under the brim of his large hat, Archibald begins bobbing up and down, raising his voice and clearing his throat to make himself heard over the din of the combat. "Ahem! Yes. Er, yes... Excuse me! Could you, perhaps, clear something up for me? Yes, very good. Would you say that you're hungry for a nice pecan pie, or for the unsullied flesh of the living?"
"Subtle. Yes." he says, acknowledging the for the first time as he squints in her direction, trying to make out his features before nearly leaping out of his skin as Amara takes him by the hand. "I wh... Yes! Of course it will. Brilliant. Quite right. hhhrmYes." he says, mollified. He clears his throat, and erupts into a rattling cough. When the coughing subsides, he looks rather lost, and you can see his eyebrows dance as he wrastles with his train of thought, and eventually his resignation. "WELL. I must be going. A wizard has many important things to do. He has no time for fraternizing, or hand-holding, or anything of the sort." he says, standing teetering to his feet with the aid of his staff and hobbling out of the room. As the major approaches, you can see Archibald bristling. He tenses, and you can see that he intends to tell the Major a thing or two about what he feels is Eagle Knight material. Remarkably, he manages to hold his tongue. At least until the Major has walked away. "Why, the nerve of that man! Hold this..." he says, thrusting his staff into unsuspecting hands. "I have just the spell in here. Hold on." he says, sweeping a plate of canapes from the table with a clatter and setting his spellbook down in a cloud of dust, he thumbs through the pages. "Polymorph... polymorph... Blast! I know it's in here somewhere."
As the venture captain admits them Archibald points a crooked finger at her, making a pained grimace as he meets her gaze and the words "Why you listen here young lady..." seem to catch in his throat. As she motions for him to sit, he's surprised to find himself doing so, but the stooped old man won't be able to do so without help. You can practically hear his bones creaking from the effort as he manages to lower himself a few inches, and he looks entreatingly to the others. Once seated, he bats the helpful souls in the party away. "Hands off! Hands off I say! I'm old, not a cripple. Why, back when I was a recruit we respected our elders, oh yes we did." he says, folding his arms with a theatric swish of his robes and sitting sulkily as Amara Li addresses them. He accepts the tea with a sullen glare, bringing the cup to his lips. A twitch of his whiskers betrays him sniffing it before taking a sip. "Warlord? Wha? Wh... What Warlord?" Archibald snaps, brow furrowing with thought. "Could it be the archwizard Nex? Or perhaps..." he says with an eager curiosity in his voice, rattling off a list of potential names. Cutting himself off as he remembers himself, glowering at Amara. "That's an awfully long journey for a man my age. Did the library staff put you up to this? Always trying to get rid of me, they are. You need some sunlight, Archibald. You need to socialize, Archibald. You need to wake up, we're closing, Archibald. Hogwash! All of it!"
Archibald enters the lodge accompanied by an aroma of dust and old tomes. He has made no attempt to dress up for the occasion, wearing a robe of faded burgundy with a thin layer of dust that suggests that this man has been a permanent fixture in the libraries of the Grand Lodge for several decades. He has, however, worn the least threadbare of his wizard's hats. Refusing to part with his spellbook and staff, Archibald spends some time browbeating the guards into submission before he's allowed entry, and enters the proceedings in a fouler mood than usual, huffing and puffing with his face a deeper shade of red than his robes. His grand entrance is accompanied by the shatter of a valuable Minkaian vase as he struggles to get his quarterstaff through the doorway. He answers the wide-eyed stares with a stamp off his staff, walking briskly through the crowd of courtiers with an "Out of my way, confound you! Move! There is a wizard coming through!" "Where is that wretched woman? Summoning me an old man at this hour. Why, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind!" he grumbles, tapping his foot and muttering to himself until he's admitted into the next room.
Hrm, I'm rather at a loss for traits. I'm leaning pretty heavily toward a bonded weapon at this stage, that floating spell being what it is. I've always leant toward bonded items since pathfinder rolled around, always finding familiars a bit superfluous in 3.5. That said I feel like a mangy cat or something to converse with would add a lot to his character. That said I think I'll go with the staff. I'm excited to have a gunslinger, with the assortment of loud noises they're accompanied by, to be a grouch about.
Much obliged. Will fill out Archibald's sheet now. Edit: Pretty much there, Have to make my mind up about a familiar/arcane bond and give him the necessary fleshing out and we're set! Gray Reek: I still feel bad about getting you killed in Rats of Round Mountain. I smell a tale here. Would you care to share it? :) |
