Azhagoth Fellcleaver's page

Oh faction things! I always forget about that in PbP. I'll try to finalize a report to the Society.

Wisdom check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15 Sweet!

Azhagoth stumbles backward as the pulse of energy explodes outward from the Emissary. Such power! It is good we did not have to face him directly.

As Sifu Xho Nuo congratulates them and warns them of the challenges to come in the rest of the Tournament, Azhagoth smiles broadly and moves among the warriors he had come to call his team in the past few days, clapping each of them on the back warmly. When he reaches Quan Tai and Naomi, he says to each of them, "The two of you use strange and otherworldly powers as you fight. I cannot agree with this flirtation with corruption, but I know that the two of you are strong in spirit, and that your warrior's heart will teach you to use your abilities well. Thank you for showing me a different kind of strength."

Once the crowds begin to disperse to their various locations, Azhagoth returns to his residence in the barracks of the Grand Lodge, where he drops off most of his equipment. He keeps with him, though, the large sword he had taken from the Aspis's Gorumite. Azhagoth holds the blade at his side, gripping the naked steel of the blade, as he makes his way toward the Lodge's smithy. When he finally reaches the gruff old dwarf working the forges, he holds the blade out toward the blacksmith and says in a solemn, almost ceremonial tone, "This is the blade of Gorum, passed from one worshiper to another through the glorious rite of combat. It has been won. It has been wielded. It has tasted to blood of its new master's foes. Now it must be reforged to cleanse from it the spirit of its former owner. It shall be a new sword for a new day." The half-orc continues to hold the blade out to the dwarf, until the smithy approaches and accepts the blade, prepared to melt the sword down and reforge it.

End of Epilogue

Sweet! Thanks for another great game, Kuey! And thanks to all the players for your good work in combat and all the really fun interactions. I know Azhagoth can be abrasive, so I appreciate you all playing along. :D

Hope to see you all in another game soon!

Azhagoth, feeling that his work of healing Lox is now done, follows after the fleeing monk, his pole arm raised high overhead and ready to strike at his opponent. "Gorum guide me." he calls out, and he feels Gorum's power shift through his arms and into his weapon. At the last moment, however, a fellow Pathfinder from another group bumps into him and disrupts his attack.
Swift action to switch my judgment to Justice (+1 to attack rolls). Move and attack.
BdC, Judgment: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 5 + 1 = 8 Damage: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Azhagoth forces his way through the crowds as he ascends the dais behind his fellows, continuing to stand alongside Lox and offering support to the large man by giving him another charge of healing from his wand. "Keep up your assault, Lox. Perhaps the distraction will give us the chance we need to reach the Emissary."
CLW Lox: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
When Naomi reaches out to touch the Emissary and is somehow kept from doing so, he ponders how this might be possible.
Spellcrat or Know(arcana): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Nicely done, guys! On to the next one!

Azhagoth's eyes widen as Lox suddenly grows to enormous size. Seeing that his is not the greatest strength among the party, he commits himself to keeping Lox in fighting condition and holds his healing wand to support the alchemist.

Just then, however he sees the fiery blast of energy erupt from the enemy monk's hand. He fights with magic as well?!

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Sensing the arcane power of the wizardly monk, he flies into a rage as he calls down Gorum's wrath on him. Gorum's response, however, is not to empower the half-orc with more powerful or more accurate strikes, but to protect him from the spells of his enemy. "I see," he says, almost as a prayer, then moves up beside Lox and applies the restorative powers of the wand to the enlarged warrior.

CLW Lox: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Activating Judgment (Resistance - fire) against he monk as a swift action. Move up and cast CLW from the wand, which I already had drawn from the interim round.

Reflex vs flames: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Azhagoth has the wind knocked out of him as the doomed flame elemental's fist slams into his gut. The flaming arm burns, but luckily fails to ignite the half-orc.

Will use the interim round to draw and use my wand of CLW on myself
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 Back to full health!

As the Emissary's apprentices fan out throughout the room to attack various groups of Pathfinders, Azhagoth is reminded of Naomi's lecture from before they encountered the elementals. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he would not have to fight to kill these enemies. Only to draw them away from their master to clear a path forward. "Naomi is right! Let me draw the monk away. You all get to the Emissary and touch his robes. That will end it!"

I'll see if I can draw the monk off to give you a clear path, Naomi.

Woohoo! Boon time! Here goes nothing.

1d20 ⇒ 4

Oh well!

Seeing the effect that striking the flaming creatures directly had on Quan Tai, Azhagoth chooses to remain back and attack from a bit of distance. He draws his trust old pole arm and swings the massive hammer at the creature glowing with the more orange-y flame.

BdC: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24 Damage: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Let's remember that Ouncius is out of town for the weekend. We may need to bot him a bit through this final encounter, though hopefully things don't go so fast that he's not able to get back and chip in a bit himself. I know how frustrating it can be to have others bot you through the final part of a major mission. It happened to me some towards the end of Sky Key Solution last year. Though it was fun to see others take advantage of some of the quirky things I had built into my character!

Any way the rest of us can avoid the blinding powder, even if it just lasts for a few seconds?

"Peh! You think I should not have attacked? Have you forgotten that this is a fighting tournament?" Azhagoth throws back his head and laughs as he descends the slope.

Turning to Naomi, Azhagoth tilts his head quizzically. "Ignored the objective? What are you talking about, Girl? I drew the beast's aggression so that Lox or Bishop could sound the gong. Anyway, what does it matter now? We have passed that trial. We should move on to the next one instead of focusing on the past. Come. Bishop has gotten himself into some trouble." Azhagoth descends the slope after Ouncius, trying to be careful as he climbs down, but not lingering too long in case he is able to help Bishop recover from this blindness he is experiencing.

Take 10 on Climb for a 12

@Ouncius: I appreciate you not wanting to use up my resources, but my wand has dozens of charges compared to your small handful of potions. Ultimately the cost comparison is much better for a wand, and part of the reason I bought the wand was to help with healing other party members, not just myself. That's sort of one of the roles I've taken on as a divine caster. Besides, your potions will be more helpful in case you get into a tough spot in battle. It's usually a lot easier for you to spend your turn drawing and drinking a potion than for me to move to your location, draw my wand, and then use it on you. Ultimately, it's up to you what you wanna do with your potions, but I'm glad to help out with a wand if/when you need it.

Yeah, I had considered whether he would have Combat Reflexes and decided Azhagoth would take the risk, especially in the midst of his spell-induced rage. Glad it worked out, though!

As the judge clears the obstacle before them and permits them to proceed, Azhagoth is barely able, with the help of his comrades, to subdue the divine wrath coursing through him. Every fiber of his being wanted to continue the battle with the Judge, but he knew that he had done well in the fight and did not have to kill the oni to prove his mettle further.

When his wrath finally wears off, he turns to Ouncius, who has already consumed numerous potions, but still bears a few wounds from the demon's otherworldly claws. "My brother," he says to the fellow orc-blooded warrior, "Don't waste any more of your valuable potions. I have a wand here that can help heal the last of your wounds. Here." He draws the wand and waves the tip over the last of Ouncius's wounds.

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

With that done, he turns to their newest challenge. [b]"I have some rope,"[b] Azhagoth replies to Ouncius's question. He removes his pack and roots around in it for a moment before withdrawing a carefully coiled length of rope. He approaches the edge of the slope and looks around him for anything they might be able to use as an anchoring point for the rope, so they can all simply climb down.

Azhagoth moves up to attack the guardian, heedless, in his enraged state, of the danger the creature poses to him. As he steps up behind the creature, he swings his sword in a wide arc to slash at the oni's belly.

Greatsword, wrath: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 1 = 24 Damage, wrath: 2d6 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (4, 4) + 6 + 1 = 15
Confirm crit?: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 4 + 1 = 18 Damage: 2d6 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (6, 1) + 6 + 1 = 14
God I love the great sword! I really hope that confirms.

After the show...
Azhagoth sighs with relief as he changes back into his usual protective garb and takes up his own weapon again. As he straps the great sword across his back, he smiles slightly, recalling that he and his comrades had defeated the Gorumite cleric a second time. You have carried me to victory thus far, my Lord in Iron. Help me to fight well as we near the end of these trials.

At the cemetery
Dressed in the funerary robes, Azhagoth looks even more severe than usual. He steps forward with purpose as the Pharasmin priestess asks them to bear the casket into the mausoleum. He carries the casket smoothly and calmly, as if he has borne the dead many times before.

When the group finally arrives in the mausoleum and receives their challenge from the oni, Azhagoth leads the others in carefully laying the casket on the floor before drawing his sword, along with a short length of thorny vine from a pocket in his robes. He squeezes the vine as he mutters a prayer to Gorum, and blood begins to drip from his palm as the thorns pierce his flesh. His eyes suddenly flash with red light, and Azhagoth's face contorts with fury. "You will fall, demon," he yells, brandishing his blade.

Move action to draw my great sword, standard to cast Wrath. +1 Att/Damage against the oni for 1 minute

As the Aspis's Monkey King falls and Kiang Zhen rises to his feet, Azhagoth turns to the otherworldly emissary and bows. "Thank you, Master Kiang. We are glad to have pleased you with our performance."

Azhagoth strides forward and takes on the mantle of the Warrior Woman once again. "Foolish and false Monkey! Your crowd of shadows have failed you. Now the light of my blade will send you back to the darkness."

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Looks like our rolls have finally turned around. 3 crit threats in a row?! Nice!!!

Azhagoth steps away from the clown into a more advantageous position to flank with his ally. Adopting his character more than before, he shouts firmly, "Fall, you fool!"

Attack, flank: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 4 + 2 = 26 Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Confirm crit?: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 2 = 13 Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Will vs Bane: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Azhagoth barely restrains himself from laughing out loud and spitting at the Clown's feeble attempt to strike against him with divine magic. Idiot! Haven't we already determined that Gorum favors me?! Twirling the pole-arm in an impressive display of his skill with the weapon, the Warrior Woman moves forward. She moves upstage and immediately breaks one of the key tenets of stage-craft by turning her back to the audience as she brings her weapon into a downward strike at the clown.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Azhagoth, looking just as uncomfortable as the half-orc in the clown garb, moves past the couch with a sweeping flourish of the pole weapon accompanying his costume. "The only way to show the truth of what is real and what is a deception is by the strength of one's hand. With the strength of my blade, I will reveal your falsehood to all!" Azhagoth raises his weapon and brings it down on the clown.

Polearm: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12 Damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Updated AC is in parentheses next to my regular AC, GM. This should be interesting.

No problem! Figured it'd be worth checking.

Okay. I'm not going to wear the splint mail. Any chance I could wear my armored coat or would that mess up the costume too much?

Azhagoth assents to Naomi's explanation of how she views the use of these non-lethal techniques, and follows the assistants backstage to select a costume. "Hmm...this Warrior Woman character seems to wield a polearm not very much different from my own. I will use this set of equipment."

Will I take the normal penalty for not being proficient with the armor? If it's considered splint mail, that's a heavy armor, and Inquisitors only get up to Medium.

Azhagoth's eyes roll so hard that they almost pop out of their sockets. "Here I was, fool that I was born to be, thinking that this was some kind of martial tournament. I thought, 'I shall test myself against as many as I can. Perhaps Gorum will look well on me.' But now? Peh! I am forced to play dress up and cannot even properly strike my opponent. How humiliating." The half-orc hangs his head and follows Naomi backstage to get dressed.

Good find, Bishop! So with Azhagoth's healing help, he should be fully recovered for tomorrow, right? And Naomi will be back in top shape too.

Azhagoth will do what he can to heal you.

Heal (vs poison): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

Hey, looks like he's not totally useless when it comes to patch up wounds. Cool.

"If your ancestors look on you with anger, Ouncius, then they are poor judges of your skill. It is no shame to near the limits of one's ability in the heat of battle. There is no better time, in fact. As for any sort of debt, you may repay it by keeping your blades sharp and continuing to fight with strength and honor. Now, take your rest for the evening. Perhaps it will help you recover from the effects of the assassin's poisoned blades. We'll need you at your full strength for whatever challenges we face tomorrow." Before he leaves the room, he kneels down to examine what remains of the assassin's body, looking for any hint of who they were or who sent them and for what purpose (besides the obvious purpose of killing us).

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

His search complete, he heads back into the hall and to his own room. He returns his armored coat and sword to their place by the door, closes the door securely, does a final check around his own room to make sure he is alone, and heads to bed.

Oh I guess I got mixed up on that somehow. Thanks for correcting my placement!

Azhagoth smiles broadly as the blade in his hands slices through the assassin's torso. [i]Yes, this is the power of Gorum! How wonderful![/ooc] He quickly glances at Ouncius to make sure he is still on his feet, then turns to leave the room in search of more victims threats. He finds, however, that the battle is over before he is able to put the sword to further use. He grunts in frustration, then returns to his own room, where he takes a moment to clean the weapon before grabbing his healing wand. With the wand in hand, he returns to Ouncius's room to heal his orc brother's wounds. "You fought well, Ouncius. Let Gorum's strength restore you."

CLW wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
CLW wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
CLW wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 Nailed it!

Azhagoth quickly steps in front of the open doorway and behind the red assassin. "Ouncius, I'm here to help! Keep your guard up!" Azhagoth squares his stance as he faces his enemy and takes hold of the weapon of his god, a prayer to strike true and deeply coursing through his blood. He raises the sword and attacks.

Greatsword, Flank: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 4 + 2 = 24 Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 6) + 6 = 14

5ft step, standard to attack. If the attack drops the assassin, move action to open the door behind me.

Azhagoth throws open the door and steps out into the hall. He stops short of the open doorway to his left, however, as he sees a darkly clad figure standing just inside.

Can't attack around that hard corner if I'm not mistaken, so I'll hold off on attacking. Don't want to provoke either. Also, doors are the WORST! Lol

Acrobatics DC 25 to put your pants on both legs at once! :P
Thanks for the approval on the sword. Now I actually have a weapon I can use in these close quarters!

Azhagoth's big toe was just dipping into the water when he heard the commotion from the room next door. He would have attributed it to the others enjoying their time with the tavern's staff if not for the grunts of pain coming from Lox's room. He reaches over to retrieve the sword he had taken from the unconscious cleric in the sewers, then turns to grab his armored coat from beside the door and throw it over his otherwise naked body.

Never really got a response about whether I picked up the sword, so I'm gonna guess it's okay to hold on to for the remainder of the adventure unless told otherwise. Move action to retrieve the gear, move action to put on my armored coat.

Blossom turns to Azhagoth, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, if you're feeling left out, I'm sure Betsy wouldn't want to be cold tonight either. Or Milo?" She laughs as she turns back to the kitchen. "Betsy, where's the bread?"

"No, I think I'll let Betsy and Milo find their own warmth tonight," Azhagoth says quietly. "I've no interest in creating the next generation of mongrels like myself."

As he takes a sip of his drink, Azhagoth nods in agreement with Quan Tai's assessment of Lox's fine work with his explosives. He finally catches on to the not-so-subtle flirtations passing between Quan and Blossom, and nearly chokes on his whisky. Gorum's Fist! I don't need to hear this!

The half-orc turns to Lox to give him some space from the awkwardness. "So, Lox, I did find it impressive how you managed to place that blast so close to me without actually roasting me along with the Aspis. How'd you manage that?"

Oblivious to anything but his drink, Azhagoth slams down a pair of coppers to pay for the drink. "Cheese'll be fine. Any of the day's bread left to go with it?"

Luckily for Quan Tai and Naomi, Azhagoth isn't paying any attention to the pair. He's far too concerned with how long it's taking for the serving girl to get him his whiskey. He does eventually turn to the pair of them, however, and grunts his approval of their work earlier that day. "You two did a good job against those Aspis pigs earlier. And you didn't even have to use any tricks."

Woo! Time for some role-play! By the way, could I take that cleric's great sword? Azhagoth would actually be able to wield it since he's a Gorumite.

"Whiskey first," Azhagoth grunts at the barmaid, "Then a bath. Even I don't like the smell of sewage." He pushes past the girl and collapses into a chair at the table the team had occupied the night before.

Azhagoth maintains a safe distance from the others, not wanting to get in the way of whatever twirly foolishness they were trying. Can I aid by staying out of the way? :P

Azhagoth obliges Quan Tai and uses the wand to heal his wound.

CLW wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

He then retrieves his own wand to address the wound the fellow with the short swords had inflicted. Using my wand. Down to 48/50 charges
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Azhagoth takes another step along the walkway and swings yet again at his fellow Gorumite. "Come on, priest! Draw your blade! Your god didn't give it to you just so you can bandage your little friends' wounds!

BdC: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23 Damage, judgment: 1d10 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 6 + 1 = 14

"So, you praise Gorum as well?" Azhagoth eyes the orc as he steps toward the narrow bridge connecting the walkways. "Good! Then we will see who the Lord in Iron deems worthy!" Again, Azhagoth raises his weapon and swings it toward the cleric.

BdC: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22 Damage, judgment: 1d10 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 1 = 9

Unwilling to stand back and wait like the others, Azhagoth advances along the walkway and lashes out with his weapon once he gets within reach of the red-clad agent. "I've dealt with you Aspis scum before," he growls. "I'm glad I have the chance to put more of you in your place!"

Declaring judgment of destruction on the Aspis agents (+1 to damage rolls).
BdC: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16 Damage, judgment: 1d10 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 1 = 8

Veteran of Battle trait allows me to draw a weapon as a free action.

Azhagoth races across the bridge to his right and begins moving along the pathway beside the wall. In his hands he holds his polearm, ready to strike across the channel of sewage once he is near enough.

Yay reach weapon!

Before heading down...

As the party defeats the last of the mask spirits and Kiang Zhen reappears, Azhagoth bends down and picks up one of the shards of the mask and slips it into his coat for later study. He then follows the others as they head toward the nearest trap door and descend into the tunnels below.

Down below
Take 10 on climb for a 12.

Azhagoth descends the rope and takes a look around the subterranean maze, his orcish blood giving him sight even into the darkest corners of the hall.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

The half-orc nods in agreement with Bishop's assessment. "Especially since the device seems to be designed to be difficult. Or perhaps if we drain the pool it will open up another passage for us to explore where we might find a vase." Azhagoth moves toward the pump and attempts to operate it based on the directions he and Bishop had discovered.

Practical question, GM: do we need to actually find one vase per PC for this stage, or do we just need one for the group like with the rubies?