Bam Ambermaul's page

Bam sidles up to Manfri and listens as well.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

[spoiler=If there's nothing to hear]She whispers to Manfri: "Methodical. Check the closest door on the left, then right, then move forward to the next set and repeat." Buckler raised, warhammer out, she's (hopefully) ready for whatever comes.

Oh, and she takes and holds another breath. She'll keep doing this every 10 seconds or so as long as no one else seems affected by a stench.

Bam makes a U-turn to follow Manfri up the stairs. Don't like the idea of something coming after us from the kitchen, but we need to face this as a team. She takes another deep breath and holds it as she leaves the room.

My character is mostly built with PFS standards. It's more fun to play with an evenly balanced team. Ultimately, the build shouldn't require 3+ hours for a GM to understand. I know it's super fun to play with these ideas, but this build sounds like there's a lot of "too good to be true" going on.

I'll be traveling on Friday, July 21, and unable to post. Botting instructions are in my character sheet if waiting for me to catch up over the weekend would hamper the flow of the game.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

As soon as the zombie drops, Bam rushes toward the kitchen, where Jerald ran and she heard someone exclaiming mere moments before. She makes sure to take a deep breath of breathable air and hold it before leaving the common room.

Bam doesn't allow herself to watch the performance, focused as she is on the very real threat lumbering before her. At the back of her mind, though, she's confused as to why anyone would choose to *dance* around a zombie.

Due to the Barrow Warden racial trait, Bam gets +1 to attacks and AC vs. undead.

Finally able to do something other than cough on the floor, Bam heaves herself upright and activates her Blessing of Protection. She then shifts her weight, grimacing at the aches in her ribs from coughing so hard, and prepares to charge right at the zombie next round.

Bam has an additional +1 to saving throws and AC for 1 minute from the Blessing of Protection.

Fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Probably a fail. Sorry Manfri. You're on your own for now. Don't die.

'Not again'?! She's seen this before. That thought is cut short by another wave of awfulness, causing Bam to hack so hard she wouldn't be surprised to see her shoes get coughed out of her mouth. Owww... Someone open a window...

Bam Ambermaul wrote:

Back from Scout Camp. Catching up.

Welcome back. Get any badges?

Yup. Napping During the Heat of the Day, Managing to Stomach that Disappointing Camp Food, and Bringing the Kids Back in One Piece. ;)

Bam, collapsed on the floor, manages to rouse herself enough to crawl a foot or so away from the table before doubling over again, gagging wretchedly.

Back from Scout Camp. Catching up.

Interesting options! We definitely need social and lockpicking/disabling skills. I get the feeling we're heading into some serious encounters fighting undead, so I'd lean away from the squishy Scholar. While the Minstrel Bard is intriguing, I prefer the Unchained Rogue/Canny Scoundrel/Grifter. That type of character seems likely to ruffle Bam's feathers, resulting in some fun roleplay.

Side note: your link to the Minstrel goes to the Scholar.

Reminder that I'm leaving town tomorrow and will be gone for 9 days. I may not be able to post at all in that time, so please bot as needed.

Hmm... I have CON damage in my header, but I can't remember what that was from. If it was from another day, it should've healed overnight and I just forgot to update the header.

Perception DC 12: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Despite her wretched condition, Bam can't help noticing...something. She keeps glancing, bug-eyed with her own agony, at the man who fell into his bowl.

The images of her family's faces flash before her eyes. This was supposed to be a simple job. Three days tops, then home in time for dinner. If she ever gets to see them on this side of death again, she'll be hard pressed to release them from a fierce hug.

Bam's ears prick up as Jerald mentions that Renee didn't show up, but he's hustled away before she can ask if that's normal. Leaning in to the others, she mutters: "Hmm. What are the odds that Renee is safe and well?"

When Jerald returns with the food, she immediately perks up at the simple but inviting aroma. Edit: She inhales deeply at just the wrong time as the odor turns foul.End edit

Fortitude: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
+2 vs. poison, spells, and spell-like abilities, +2 vs. death (Edit: Not that it matters with that roll.)

She really wants to mention that Jerald might be turning undead and the group should protect the townsfolk, but she's afraid that words might not be all that comes out of her mouth if she opens it.

I'll be camping and at Scout camp from July 1-9 and have no idea if I'll be able to post while I'm gone. Fingers crossed, but please bot as needed.

Stealth : 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (15) - 4 = 11

Bam grumbles about her shiny breastplate as she tries to hide behind a scraggly bush that couldn't conceal a squirrel.

Glancing down at her shadow, Bam picks up the pace. "We'd better hustle so we don't miss him. We don't exactly have a great track record for tracking a person through the swamp."

I say we follow Fr. Bruican first and foremost. Mordu will have extra time to watch for things while we're gone and can report more to us when we see him afterwards.

Regarding what to do next, Mordu said Fr. Brucian usually heads out to the swamps around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. He also said to check in with him tomorrow (which is now today) for more information.

@DM rel20: What time is it now?

If we have time before 2:00, we could stop by Mordu's place for a chat. If it would be just before 2:00 by the time we return to town, we could stake out the church to watch for Fr. Brucian's exit and follow him into the swamp. If we think he might have already left, we can try to pick up his trail.

Thoughts?

Bam puts her face up to the glass in several areas, peering into the rooms to check for signs of occupants.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Any movement? Pets? Houseplants that do/don't need watering? Perishables left out in various states of preservation or decay? How dusty is it?

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

Assuming the check above gives no reason to break in immediately:

"Hm. Oh well. Let's go check out Fr. Brucian." Bam briskly walks away from the mansion, resisting the urge to keep looking back over her shoulder, *not* because she's afraid of something spooky watching them from a window, but *definitely* because she's already seen everything there is to see back there. Yup. Absolutely.

"Works for me. In theory, these folks could be out working somewhere. They'll be more likely to be home closer to suppertime. It would definitely fit the creepy vibe to come out here after dark." Bam suppresses a shudder, barely.

Not from my end. Sorry.

"Well, whaddya say boys? Take a walk around the perimeter? Maybe they have less amazing locks around back." Bam steps off the porch, constantly on the alert for an ambush.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

Well, she thinks she is, anyway. Mostly she's trying to quell the growing sense of panic in her gut.

Fair, but these PCs don't know that. You know they have to try.

Botting Chuufa

"An amazing lock? Chuufa hasn't seen lots of those." Chuufa slips his picks out of a pocket and gets to work on the lock.

Disable Device: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29

Should we bot Chuufa for the Disable Device roll on the locked door? He may not be able to post any time soon. If so, I'm happy to do it.

Sebastian wrote:

I could animate some of them for Luc's benefit? You know, put on a sort of memorial puppet-show.

"Something might have beaten you to it, Sebastian."

"Which may be why Luc turned back. Maybe he doesn't want to see his family that way. That could explain why they haven't been seen in town lately. I'd almost be more concerned if someone answers the door than if they don't, at this point." While the boys are figuring out the door, Bam glances around. "If that door stays locked, there's a path around the house over here, and every big house has more than one door."

Bam watches him go, face scrunched with apprehension. "Hmm... Yeah..." That's not ominous. As she turns, with one last glance at Luc, she scans the area around and ahead them for disturbed ground or hiding places.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

"By the way, what are we going to lead with if we get to speak to the family? 'We found Luc, but he refused to come home'?"

Perception DC 10: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Bam cocks her head a moment, then turns around. "Luc?" She walks back to him. "Luc, what is it?" She takes his hand gently.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20

Yes to both.

Bam wants to make sure he's alive, but spotting him across the way will suffice. He said he'd let us know if he notices anything else noteworthy, but we can check in with him after the plantation.

"Dat'll be 18 toothchips."

That's 18 copper, right?

Bam counts out the coins, handing over twenty with a wink. "Keep the change." Taking charge of the goodies, she walks out the door. "We'll stop by Mordu's to see if he has any more information or stories for us, then we can head over to the plantation. Sebastian, if you want shapes in your powdered sugar, you'll have to do it with your finger. I'm going to guess a skull and crossbones, like your pajamas." Somehow, she manages to pull out a beignet without dropping anything and begins taking tiny bites out of it, savoring the flavor as long as possible before taking the next bite. The way she sees it: these sweets are the only goodness she'll have until all this is over, so she intends to milk them for all they're worth.

Jean likes the bone rattles, too. Hmm... Well, first things first: check on Mordu, which means moving along. And of course, she'll think better with a delectable pastry in her mouth (or at least, that's what she always tells herself, regardless of evidence to the contrary). "I got it, boys. We'll take a dozen bone rattles with our beignets, please. How much'll it be, Louise?"

Boy, this is making Fr. Brucian look like a culprit. 'Beware when it looks too easy.' So it's probably not him, but we gotta be sure. Bam tries to act like she's not hanging on every word of the exchange between Louise and Manfri.

"My apologies--I'm Bam. What's your name?" As soon as she asks, she remembers: Louise, Mordu called her, unless there's someone else who works here.

Meandering off to the side to peer at the bone rattles, she nonchalantly asks: "You mentioned Shaman Brucius. Is that the same persona as Shaman Brucian?" Though he claims he's no shaman... But I can understand why these folks would call him that. It's the closest fit in their understanding of the world.

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4
Let's get those low rolls out of the way, dice gods.

Agreed. Being as confused as our characters is like method acting. ;) We have enough to go on right now, and it makes sense that the NPCs won't share everything pertinent at first contact. We have enough to investigate now, even if some of it may be red herrings, that I feel like we have a handle on next steps. (Now, whether or not that turns out to be true remains to be seen.)

Perception DC 10: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

"Good morning. Sure smells good in here. How much for a half dozen beignets?" Bam figures a sale will loosen the baker's tongue a bit. In her experience, new faces in town generate looser tongues on easy topics and tighter tongues on others. She plans to get around to asking about the bone rattles eventually, but also figures either Manfri or Sebastian will beat her to it (for better or worse, respectively).

"Good call, Manfri." She turns away to start walking, hiding her furrowed brow. It's like he's reading my mind! He didn't mention having that ability before...

Botting for Sebastian

"Oh, I'm right about all sorts of things, Manfri. For example, I know that the impending rain will be much less likely to ruin my new constable-ish hat than my absolutely spiffing top hat from earlier." Sebastian doffs said constable-ish hat and gives a sweeping bow to the Constable. Rising with a wink at Manfri, he cheerfully suggests: "Let's take an indirect route to his house so we can familiarize ourselves with the town. After all, if that stain is all that's left of him, there's no need to rush. Such a pity the puppet's gone."

"Sounds like we have a plan. Let's go check on Mordu."

Ditto. Thumbs up! You're doing a great job of giving each of the NPCs their own personalities. No cardboard cutout copy/paste jobs here. :)

Check with Mordu.

Check the swamp (which may include following Fr. Brucien)

Check into the bone rattles: Are they generally popular, or do only certain people buy them? Louise at the bakery makes them. I get the feeling they're a red herring, but Bam is curious and grasping at straws.

Check with Luc's family. We just found out they're fairly well off. Maybe they can provide payment for solving these problems. Why was he in that hut in the swamp? Was he put there by someone? It's hard to imagine him managing that himself in his state.

"Not the first time you've found bone rattles, eh? Hmm... Any patterns to when you find them? To be clear, we're assuming there was a death here, but we don't have a body. Until we find one, or know of anyone missing, we don't know if this was an attack on a person or an animal, or if anyone or anything actually died." Bam's mind is getting kind of scattered, trying to keep all the pieces in place without jumping to conclusions. She suddenly has more respect for the short-tempered Constable. Normally my jobs are much simpler than all this.

Bam's unease with this whole mission and situation has frayed her patience to nearly nothing. Still, losing her temper at the sleep-deprived Constable over some questions is only going to make it worse. Her response to his next volley of questions/accusations is pointed but not intentionally antagonistic. "To be clear, we don't know where our quarry is. We lost his trail in the swamp and came across some other travelers who pointed us in this direction so we could get our bearings. He's a copycat killer from Karcau. We were called in some days after he escaped from prison to try to track him down, but he'd had such a head start on us that his trail went cold. And I don't know if that's Mordu there, since anyone could get those bone rattles around here, right? May be a false sign. But that blood sure isn't."

He thinks Mordu isn't right in the head, but I don't know if that's his paranoia and sleep deprivation talking or if he thought that when his own sanity was more stable.

Sense Motive on Constable: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
She's trying to parse what he says to determine what is a legitimate concern and what is likely fabricated by his overworked mind.

We understand, Chuufa; no worries. RL comes first, especially when taking care of loved ones. :)

Would it actually make a difference? Good thing this isn't PF2 with the crit failures.

Ah, yes. Let's get on the Constable's bad side. This'll be fun! Heheh.

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
Oh my. (Curating her words to match that roll...)

Bam was making more benign assumptions than the ones that suddenly are swirling around her. (Undead killed someone who was eating bone rattles. Maybe Mordu was the victim, depending on how popular the candy is around here.) So she's rather peeved as she responds to the Constable's accusations. "Most folks would be interested in a large amount of dried blood, especially with the unusual deaths you've had around here lately. And we went straight to the inn after chatting with Mordu, checked in, ate, and went to our room. We only just left the premises. Feel free to check our alibi, but it looks like you've been chasing this trail of events for longer than we've been here. It also sounds like you haven't gotten enough sleep in weeks or months. That makes everyone less rational and effective, and you're no exception."

Approaching the man, who Bam certainly hopes is the Constable, she introduces herself. "Hello sir. I'm Bam Ambermaul. Nice to meet you." She pauses for his response.

"That sure looks like dried blood on the ground there. And one of those 'bone rattles' that a man who named himself Mordu shared with us yesterday evening." She observes, leaving room for the man before her to elaborate. She wants to believe it's just animal blood and some dropped candy, but there's a sinking feeling in her gut that tells her to prepare for the worst sort of news.

"Yes, one room's fine. Not much different than camping around the fire, except here we won't get soaked when that storm lets loose."

Ditto.