Backalley Barkot's page

GM Bruno Returns - I'll add my thanks to Squint's and Paëral's. I appreciate the time and effort you've put into running this game for us over the last three years, and I enjoyed playing at Luckless Hero's PbP table before that. Best of luck - with your gaming and otherwise - going forward.

I am not 100% ready to commit to continuing on - I'm probably in one ongoing PbP game more than I should be - but I've enjoyed playing Barkot and playing with you all in this campaign, so I'd probably stick with it if another GM might be interested in taking us on.

Maybe you should try stabbing me? No need for sneak attack, but maybe a few points of damage would wake me up?

The enchantment on Barkot isn't helping, that's for certain. Sorry, folks.

Barkot mutters to himself in frustration at a stubborn buckle on his breastplate, but finally manages to loosen it enough to unbuckle the strap under his left arm.

GM - I don’t know what the effect is that has taken control of Barkot’s mind, but I take it that seeing 1 or 2 of his friends about to drown doesn’t give him another chance to break free with a will save?

All caught up. At least Barkot is taking his armor off before he goes for a swim. It must be a very thoughtful enchantment trap.

GM, could we update the map with boats and tokens? I would like to attempt to restrain Barkot.

Best example I’ve ever seen of why I should always catch up on the Gameplay thread before the Discussion thread.

Will save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
+2 vs illusion spells

Definitely worth three nat 1s in a row during combat to get that 19 to identify the drains (not joking - this is the kind of thing the authors put in that the players almost never learn)!

"So I guess we know why this place ain't been flooded after ten thousand years."

Barkot turns back to paddling.

Barkot decides he may as well take a look at the runes, too. "Hang on a sec. Let's see what we got here." He casts detect magic and stares at the ancient runes.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (19) + 13 = 32

Barkot unfolds his traveler's any-tool into an oar again. "Ready. Surprised you guys were rushing outta there. That smell wasn't that bad once you gave it minute."

"Huh. Maybe you wanna take another quick look, Paë? If I were some kinda jumped-up wizard-king or queen and I had a big fancy throne in a big fancy throne room, you can bet I'd put an escape route right next to where I plant my royal keister."

Barkot takes a look for secret doors himself on the dais around, under (if possible), and behind the throne, but doesn't expect to find anything that the rogue might have missed.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

"Thank you, Kylee! Again! You're a legend." Squint looks very pleased.

Squint avoids the chests, but expresses interest in the platinum plaque.

"That'll be worth some coin, and we wouldn't have to barf to get it," the halfling remarks. "Barkot, do you recognise any of these names?" The summoner considers the names, attempting to piece through his knowledge of the outer planes for any sparks of recognition.

Knowledge Planes]1d20+9

"Good thinking, Squint. I was distracted by that GODAWFUL STENCH. Let's see if I recognize anybody."

Knowledge (history?): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17

"And if you wanna try and pull the plaque off the throne, I'm game. Let's see if Paëral's ready to ... oh." Seeing the elf leaning against one of the pillars to retch, Barkot pulls out his thieves' tools, asks for Soralyon's guidance, and sets to work.

Disable device, guidance, take 10: 10 + 1 + 9 = 20

Barkot quickly copies the inscription into his journal, then backs away from the throne and tries to keep from retching. "Gods above and below! I guess ancient Thassilonian preservation magic don't work inside those chests!"

For what it's worth, we've got 2 scrolls of remove sickness in the party medkit. They're cheap, but we're not likely to be able to replace them soon.

Deric appears slightly amused at Pae and his treasure. He strides back and forth in thought keeping his distance from the booty. He is going over every action and timing of the last encounter. He will do this again to put himself to sleep tonight. "Perfect! Perfectly timed and in rhythm with each other. We acted as one. I cannot recall a mistake. In fact every action was brutally efficient. This is the best fighting we have done so far."

Barkot's shoulders jerk up in sudden tension; he starts muttering to himself under his breath.

The half-orc counts backwards from ten, then flips to a clean page in his journal and makes another attempt to make a halfway competent sketch of the frolicking depicted on the frescoes.

Craft (drawing), take 10: 10 + 10 = 20

Barkot snarls and sheaths his sword in disgust. "Tell you what, guys, I'm gonna ditch the armor and sword and just get myself an artist's smock and learn ta paint pretty pictures of... anatomically unlikely couples."

He pulls out his journal and starts sketching the frescoes.

Craft (drawing): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11
Three in a row. What. The. Hell.

Barkot draws some stick figures of varying sizes and spills ink on the page.

Squint's always yelling stuff at monsters. Maybe I oughtta try it.

"For, uh, for the people of Magnimar!" Huh. That felt... awkward. But motivating, I think.

Mwk longsword, flanking, divine favor, bless: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 + 2 + 2 + 1 = 131d8 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 2 = 6

Barkot tries to recover his balance from his last wild swing and slashes again at the giant. He stumbles and slams his sword against the floor.

Coming off delay:

Barkot takes a 5' step to be adjacent to the giant (hopefully providing a flank for Deric when he moves into position) and swings his sword.

Mwk longsword, divine favor, bless: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 111d8 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 + 2 = 7

Readying is a standard action. You can ready a standard action, a move action, a swift action, or a free action.

You may not ready a step and a standard.

Deleted my initial response. It’s fine, I probably misread the rule. Barkot delays.

Putting this here so I don't forget: Barkot cast divine favor on his turn in round 1, so with a duration of 2 minutes (normally it's 1 minute, but extended because of the reclusive curse), I think it should expire at the start of his turn in round 21, but it could also be the end of his turn in round 20? Not soon, at any rate. His shield of faith lasts 12 minutes instead of 6 for the same reason.

Barkot looks nervously over his shoulder at Squint. "Almost time, right?"

The half-orc readies himself to step forward and swing at the giant as soon as Squint's pit spell expires and the giant rises back up to floor level.

I really don't wanna get smacked in the face with that throne.

Barkot decides to make an attempt at diplomacy, and calls out to the giant in Thassalonian:

"Heus, vir magnus, vos certus vos volo ut belli? Servi tui mortui sunt: ​​sed nunc si dedere, ambulant posses adeo auferat. Ut animum vobis addamus beneque bona fide nos dimittet vos de medio foraminis."

Pit's gonna end pretty soon anyway, so may as well make it look like we're trying ta make nice.

Diplomacy?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

"Oh, great. He's probably gonna hit one of us with the throne when the spell wears off."

Barkot moves up to the side of the pit opposite Deric, but back a step to avoid the risk of falling in with the giant.

“OK, Soralyon, I gotta ask you for some protection here if we’re gonna fight this here giant.”

Barkot casts shield of faith (+3 deflection bonus to AC for 12 minutes) and moves closer to the pit.

Barkot follows Deric towards the pit, albeit more slowly.

Double move.

Barkot nods. “Sure, lizard cleaning comin’ up.” He moves up to the green lizard and takes a wild swing at it.

Mwk longsword, divine favor: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 7 + 2 = 101d8 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 + 2 = 10

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 33

Huh. Wonder what kind of giant that was?

"We better make short work of these lizards, 'fore the giant lizard king pops back up again. I guess it's too late to try talking to them?"

Barkot moves into the throne room, drawing his sword, and casts divine favor on himself (+2 luck bonus to attack and damage for 2 minutes).

Linguistics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

“As long as we don’t gotta kiss anything,” Barkot grumbles.

"Easier than expected. Let's see what we got here."

Barkot casts detect magic while they look around the landing, then pulls out his journal to make a sketch of the mural.

Is there a knowledge check to make about the images in the mural?

Barkot raises an eyebrow at the rogue. "Pilots, huh? I like that. Sounds much better'n 'One of you guys row, and I'll watch.' You ain't wrong, though. Deric and me are obvious pilots then, and with six of us that means we need one more."

He looks to Squint and Ulyi. "I don't suppose..."

Barkot looks around and peers up towards the top of the waterfall. "So whaddaya think, guys? Is this the bottom of the waterfall we saw from the other boats?"

How many of us will fit in each boat?

As Squint crawls forward, Barkot casts magic circle against evil on Kylee.

"You better go first. We can't all be over there if you get stuck here because the Runelady decides she's done teleporting folks for the day."

Once Squint and Kylee have blipped out, Barkot crawls forward and kisses the foot of the image of the Runelord of Lust.

Here goes nuttin.

Barkot pulls out his journal to make a quick sketch of the mural, shaking his head as he draws. "You ain't kidding, Kylee. It says, 'Prostrate thyself and demonstrate proper devotion, my sweet slave, if you wish to enter my domain.' What a stuck-up..." He stops drawing and looks up from his paper. "Hey, Paëral, whaddaya see if you get down real low, like you're crawling on the floor?"

Barkot nods in agreement. "Yeah, the secret stairs get my vote, too. If somebody's hiding out here, it's probably down there, and I don't want 'em coming up behind us. And you gotta think the next Dingus is gonna be hidden away somewhere secret, so going down a secret staircase is probably the right way to go."

"Looks OK to me. Let's see what happens."

Barkot plucks the torch from the sconce and - assuming nothing awful happens as he proceeds - sticks the end of it into the gray flame in the fire pit, then places it back in the sconce on the gray patch of wall.

"Better if Paë checks it fer traps first, but I can take a look."

Perception (trapfinding): 1d20 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 7 + 3 = 30

Wrong link, GM. I think you meant to link to this.

Bringing up the rear, Barkot pauses at the torch again with Kylee and Deric, shaking his head.

Transmutation... What the heck is this supposed to do?

He looks at the torch, the gray wall it hangs on, and across the room to the gray flame in the fire pit at the center, then back to the torch.

"Hold up a sec. Kylee, what if we try lighting the torch in the fire they already got going here - is that what you mean? 'Cause I think we oughtta give it a try. Might be if we do that and put it back in the sconce here, we see something different on this wall, ya know?"

Kylee squats beside Barkot and offers him a damp towel.

There's water in the pot over there which you're welcome to, but I didn't make a fire. Enclosed space and all that." she says brightly. "Did you sleep well?"

“Hrmmm. Knew we should’ve slept outside.” Barkot scratches his ear and crawls out of his bedroll, shifting around uncomfortably after sleeping in his armor again.

“Sure. Thanks, Kylee.” He takes the offered towel and wipes his face, then looks around, trying to figure out what to do with it, finally tying the damp towel to the side of his pack to let it dry.

Sighing, Barkot pours cold water on a mug of coffee grounds, swirls them around, and takes a gulp. He makes a face and drinks down the rest of the “coffee” as quickly as he can. “Gods, that’s awful. Hey, Squint! Could you learn that prestidigitwhatsis spell that Reillana used to cast all the time? I bet that would do the trick.” He starts packing up his gear.

When the party is ready to start moving, Barkot casts magic circle against evil on Paëral to let the archer scout ahead safely.

(+2 deflection bonus to AC and +2 resistance bonus to saves vs. evil creatures, plus other benefits, for 60 minutes.)

Years of sleeping on the streets have left the oracle with trust issues and quick reflexes. As Deric starts to poke him, the half-orc sits bolt upright, eyes wide, and presses a dagger against the gladiator's thigh. After a tense moment, he blinks, grunts in recognition, and lowers the knife.

"Yeah, mornin'. Gimme a few minutes to get my head together. Any hot water left for coffee?"

I'm sorry, folks. Our little three year old cat is very sick, and we've been focused on her for the last couple of days and will be through tomorrow.

I’ve enjoyed the way you’ve played Jasper, GM, and Barkot was the one who pushed to bring him along, but I agree it’s time for him to go. Like Barkot, I agree with Kylee that we should escort him back out and suggest he go back to Maroux's camp. Kylee's plan makes sense to me.

Sorry, busy day yesterday.

Barkot rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the argument. "Gotta tell you, I'd be happier sleeping outside tonight too. This place gives me the creeps. Inside, we got demons, dhampirs, deathtraps, and a buncha lady soldiers from Korvosa -" he spits again "- and maybe outside we got the same, but at least we won't get stuck in a narrow hallway. We can row back using my traveler's any-thingamajig, but we might have to use one boat in two trips instead of both at once."

Barkot pulls Squint aside for a quiet word. “I get what you’re saying, Squint, and he hit ol’ Ulyi pretty hard. But how’s Jasper gonna get back to the exit by himself? You’re the sailor here, pal, so you tell me, can he even get one a’ those boats back upstream the way we came? And if he does, are the rest of us gonna fit in the one left behind when it’s our turn to skedaddle?”

"That was some good shooting, Paë!"

Barkot stops to sketch the blood-spattered mural in the room where Paëral killed the incubus. "Huh. You say that pyramid's still there, in Korvosa? Figures." The oracle spits on the floor at the mention of Magnimar's rival city.

Squint grimaces.

”I wasn’t too useful there, amd I’m not sure how much more useful I’m gonna be. I’m out of spells.” He offers a disdainful look at Jasper’s form.

”And what are we going to do with him?”

"Hey, those were some grade A pits you made. And if Paëral hadn't been able ta fill that guy full of holes, Laurence would've been a big help. I dunno what to do with ol' Jasper, though. He seems fine until we get into a fight, and then he loses it when we need him to keep it together." He looks around the blood-splashed room. "I don't think we oughtta leave him here, whatever else we do. Anybody got any ideas?"

"I think we should get him out of here somehow." says Kylee. "He's only a danger to himself and to all of us as he is right now, poor man. If I had more time, I might be able to help him."

"Probably the right call, Kylee. If we had the Nag with us, we could just sling him on her back and..."

Ummm, damn. Anybody remember where Barkot parked his donkey? Back at Maroux's camp? Much as I'd like to claim she's been with us the whole time, I can't see her doing well on the rowboat.

"Yeah, anyway... if we're gonna go a little further, we should just carry him until we find someplace safe and less disgusting to stash him. But if we're gonna rest, we shouldn't go much further before deciding whether we're resting inside or heading back out."

The big half-orc starts sweating in his armor immediately upon arriving in the heated room. He casts detect magic and scans as much of it as he can from near the entrance, leaning against a wall.

Spellcraft (assuming its needed): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (12) + 13 = 25

I think Squint’s still got his turn left - he was waiting.

Not sure if Barkot needs to delay until Deric to move back on his turn in order to get past him to the door, but:

Barkot squeezes past Deric and tries to pick the lock.

Disable device: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

5' step, followed by a full-round action to open the lock.

Apparently we have stumbled into the only conceivable situation where Barkot having the Seeker archetype might do some good. Too bad he doesn't have time to take off his armor to get rid of the AC penalty.

Barkot sighs. "Great, it's locked. Hang on." He pulls out his thieves' tools. "I'm not as good at this as Paë, but I can probably get it open, maybe not on the first try. Deric, you wanna try a more direct way through first, be my guest."

He takes a 5' step away from the door.

Barkot will try to pick the lock on his next turn.

“Ah, damn.” Barkot tries to figure out whether the door is locked, barred from the other side, or something else.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

(Move action for affirmative Perception check; standard action will depend on the result.)

Just to confirm - Barkot's crossbow bolt (cold iron) missed the incubus?

Barkot spins around at the sound of the door closing.

"Crap! Paë's in there all by himself with the demon guy!"

Barkot runs forward and opens the door.

Go get him, team!