Ashwait Freewalker's page

"Let's not be so hasty," Ashwait says to Rogar. "This gentleman isn't throwing accusations; there's bad rumours going around and he wants to be sure they're just that, rather than walk into a Molthuni trap. I can understand that."

"And let us hope this is neither a crimping-scheme nor a trap set by our unknown enemy," Ashwait adds, darkly.

Knowledge (arcana) 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

"What's this? The Nirmathan idea of a carrier pigeon?" Ashwait asks, puzzled. "Here, tweety. Whatcha got there?"

The Magus whistles at the bird and holds out her hand.

"Gars are nasty aquatic predators, so it's probably a fish restaurant," Ashwait suggests. "Fish for breakfast. Hmm. We'll see."

"If nothing else, we can get a drink," Ashwait suggests. "I could do with a beer after that tussle in the streets. My nerves are still jangling!"

Sorry, gang. It's been a very bad week. I'll get to this very soon.

I know about bad weeks. Take the time you need.

"One who's willing to pay BIG money to discredit the Pathfinders," Ashwait adds.

"But we're not to be known as Pathfinders so's certain doors won't slam shut in our faces 'fore we can finish our investigation, are we?"

"Rumours do that anyway. People don't gossip to your face, they wait until your back is turned or you're otherwise unable to deny; no fun in slandering someone if they're right there, shouting at the top of their voice that you're an unethical liar and a disgrace to the mother who raised you for everyone to hear. That's what you're supposed to be doing to them."

"Hrn," Ashwait harrumphs, half-nodding in response to Zhatara's comment on replenishing magic. "Running a bit low myself. But I should make a different selection for tomorrow. Today's was... unsatisfactory."

"What kind of money was she offering?" Ashwait asks.
"Must've been a lot, for you to be willing to chuck away cash money for this job."

"Might it not be wise to wait for the Nirmathan authorities?" Ashwait suggests.

"That one was throwing magic around," Ashwait says as she lurches to her feet, and indicates the agitator. "He might've been using charms to get people suspected of and lynched for working with Molthune or who knows what for a while now."

Diplomacy aid another 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

"Hmklsplut! What? What?" Ashwait splutters as she is abruptly drawn from her magical sleep.

"Snrrrk *sptsptspt* zzzz..."

Will save 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Ashwait's eyes roll up and she falls limply to the ground...

Bother! /:(

A majority of 1st-level characters?

Will save 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Ashwait blinks her eyes when the spell washes over her, but shrugs the effect off.

"Nice spell," she tells the agitator. "Want to try mine?"

The redheaded girl takes a step to the side, putting the agitator in her view, and thrusts out her hand. Immediately, viscous grease bubbles up from beneath the agitator's feet, turning once-steady ground into a slippery slope!

Grease under the agitator. Reflex save DC 14 or fall down!

Ashwait takes another stab at the thug fighting - and just now escaping - Dalgron. "Keep on them! Can't let them escape!"

Attack 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 for 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 damage.

Ashwait draws her sword cane and stabs at the thug currently grappled by Dalgron.

"We need to finish this up fast and get out of here!"

Attack roll 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13 for 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Ashwait unhooks her light mace - which hurtles at the armed thug about to 'bump into' Violet Red, then goes spinning back into her hand!

Rolling initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6. Hand of the apprentice: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8 for 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5 damage, silver.

"Oh, legs are such a bother. Just grab his wrists and hold his hands down on the countertop," Ashwait suggests as she unhooks the mace from her belt and gives it a few test-swings. "Hands are more important to a shopkeep, anyway."

Sense motive 1d20 ⇒ 6

"Better advice," Ashwait says as she finally turns to face the merchant, "drop the pesh-trade. Even if we don't break any of your bones, the recent... unpleasantness is going to cause some serious backlash for everyone concerned before long. It is inevitable."

Ashwait continues to scan for magic while she pads around the shop, seemingly paying no attention to the conversation...

"And drugs. Sensible people take a dim view of drug-peddling," Ashwait remarks, bitterly.

"When you say Varisian, do you mean someone wearing their traditional clothes?" Ashwait asks. "Or someone with the look... like a Czarni, or whatever they call themselves. The low element?"

Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19 to improve his mood.

Diplomacy Aid Another 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Ashwait accompanies Jerrik on his fact-finding mission, hanging off his arm, simpering and smiling like a brainless beauty in order to loosen tongues.

Continuing Detect magic-surveillance.

Ashwait's upper lip curls in disgust at the mention of drugs, but says nothing.
She retains her silence as she follows the others, and tries to stay close to the center of the group as they go looking for a sailors' bar -- and her hands are on her cane the whole time, ready to draw the slender blade concealed within.
Her lips move as she seems to mutter to herself...

Detect magic active and maintained while we go about our way. Perception 1d20 ⇒ 11; looking out for trouble.

"Is there a local thieves' guild? Or several? We might get dome information about who's doing the fencing there."

Ashwait gravely inclines her head.

"Thank you for your welcome, Oraiah of the Lady of Doors and Portals."

In Absalom...

"Thank you," Ashwait says, with a brief but genuine smile for Zhatara. "I shall endeavour to repay you."

Nirmathas

You may all find Ashwait a taciturn, but not unkindly traveling companion. By the time the ship reaches its goal, you may have become quite used to seeing her amble about barefoot or sitting and staring at the horizon somewhere on deck, red hair hanging loose and tangled about her shoulders, her eyes half-closed all the time as though she were half-lost in dreams.

Tension reenters her slender frame as the ship passes the Molthuni blockade, however. As the ship docks, Ashwait's purple eyes are flicking left and right, never resting for more than a moment.
They do pause to observe Reginar before moving on again.

"Thank you," she tells the man in a soft voice, "for taking the time out to come to meet us and helping us. Things can't be easy here right now."

Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17. Perception 1d20 ⇒ 2. Sense motive 1d20 ⇒ 17

30 gp...

"I have a... need," Ashwait says, "for which I lack the finances right now. Could the Lodge spot me a set of lockpicks? Just in case we need to bypass locks on our investigation, of course."

Ashwait jolts and ducks out from under Dalgron's hand, making her way over to the main table.

"There is evil in this world, low and vile. It does not do to underestimate our enemies. Nor allies of questionable character."

A slight-figured woman with wild, bright red hair and odd, purple eyes, dressed in nondescript travelling clothes, speaks up.

"Exactly how trustworthy is this contact? The Aspis are... Well, they're crawlers. How sure are we they're not trying to set us up with the Molthuni while opening up the market for those goods now provided by the lodge in Tamran, with the monopoly going to them?"

If people look at her too intensely, the young woman blushes furiously, but her eyes flash defiance. "It's a legitimate concern!"

Sorry for the wait! ^^; I thought I hadn't made the cut... Glad to be here!

Player name: Aebliss
Character name: Ashwait
PFS: # 181407-5
Faction name: silver crusade
Serpents rise: No
Day job roll: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Initiative +1
Perception +0