Beryl of the Gun's page

My chronicle looks good! Thanks for running, GM, and thank you to everyone else for being such great players to play with :)

Day Job (Profession: Guide): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Since I'm almost purely an online player these days I don't usually print my chronicles anyway so do whatever's easiest for you, GM!

"Makes sense to me. Flushing out the snakes will take time and probably more work than just what we did here," Beryl agrees. "Better not tip our hand too soon."
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Beryl is also fine with letting Guaril handle the info as he sees fit.

"I think that's all," Beryl shrugs after thinking it over for a moment.

As Beryl works to reload her musket even she gives Drelluandast a bit of side-eye.

"What does that even mean?"

Then she moves forward to try and get a better bead on the woman.

Beryl whistles a jaunty tune as she raises her musket and takes aim at the elven spellcaster...

*CRACK!*

Attack vs. Blue (Ranged Touch - Musket; IC): 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 7 + 1 = 24
Damage (IC): 1d10 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

"Oops, forgot to fire a warning shot first," the grippli calls out, sounding quite cheerful.

While the others converse with the two agents, Beryl casually leans against the nearby wall and loads a round into her musket.

Maybe Abdara's big words will distract them for just long enough.

everything you do is dumb

This made me genuinely laugh out loud, so thank you for that Abdara!

Oh, the times I've wished I could say that to someone...

"You get out of life what you put into it," Beryl nods. "Usually. Whether it's all of our own doing or the will of the gods...maybe it matters, maybe it doesn't. Either way, we're the ones that have to live with it."

Sorry, decided to take the weekend off from the forums!

Beryl retrieves her musket, frowning as Abdara mends her wounds with her own personal wand before she can object. "I would have been fine...but thank you. Can't believe I forgot to purchase my own before we left..."

When the question turns to whether to take care of the two jokers topside, Beryl considers it a moment and nods. "May as well be thorough. Do we try to take either of them alive?"

For those that weren't there, your GM's own Amestra Veen and a certain Aussie's Eadie Navhelan may have done the dirty. Though details are exceedingly sparse and there was a lot of liquor involved.

That's hot.

:P

Nope, don't think Beryl threatens with an unloaded gun...though the mental image of beating something with the butt of it is amusing!

"!!"

Beryl is caught by surprise as the woman's fearsome attack badger bounds in and takes a bite out of Felix's leg. With no room to maneuver and reload, she drops her musket and slips a webbed hand into her pocket, pulling out a cestus. She aims a punch at the back of the animal's head, taking advantage of it being caught between herself and Felix...

Attack vs. Gyrlak (Cold Iron Cestus; Flanking): 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 + 2 = 24
Damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2

Crit!?: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 2 = 16
Damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Beryl slides past Drelluandast and Abdara and takes aim at the strange, ferocious woman.

"Maybe this is more to your liking then?" she asks as she pulls the trigger.

Attack vs. Woman (Musket; Touch AC): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Damage: 1d10 ⇒ 7

"Something something, boomstick!" the grippli adds. "Met a strange guy once who said I should say that."

Beryl considers the quiet chatter among her companions and then leans into whisper to both Gnoda and Drelluandast, "Heh. Only humans take twice as long to say half as much."

No worries, GM!

"Then I'll ready my weapon," Beryl nods as she proceeds to load powder and metal into her musket, "and let it speak for me."

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

"Animal tracks," Beryl points out as everyone files into the southern storage room. She kneels down for a better look."See? These are badger and weasel tracks, no doubt about it. And...they're fresh. Made within the last day or so, I'd say."

The grippli is silent for a moment and then grabs her musket.

"Do we keep up our ruse? Or should I prepare to do someone some violence?"
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If we're going to drop the act, Beryl will go ahead and load her gun. Otherwise she'll wait a bit longer.

"Weak. Details are important with camouflage," Beryl mutters to herself as she ambles along after Abdara and Gnoda. "If you do a thing, at least do it right!"

If it seems like no one else is going to do so, she reaches down and yanks the trapdoor open herself.

“Anyway, that fool Slim is fortunate to have succumbed to the hideous laughter effect when he did. It would have been a race to see whether Beryl blew his head off before you ran him through, Felix.”

"Why not both?" Beryl croaks, completely deadpan. "Better overkill than underkill..."

“What a waste of ammunition that would have been.”

"...but I see you also know how expensive these bits of metal and powder can be. Each shot needs to count."

"Ursoss and maybe Drejas are the two most likely places," Beryl agrees. "Everything we know points to the river and marshlands instead of the coastline."

"The goons in the bar yesterday admitted to being Razmiri and being hired by a 'big, badass woman' with black and white hair that smelled like ferrets, so that matches out."

"Heh. It is funny, isn't it?" Beryl smirks as Blue falls to the floor in a fit of laughter. She keeps her firearm leveled at Blue and adds, "Maybe take their weapons and tie them up?"

With a loud sigh Beryl thunks her drink down onto the bar and hops over it to stand in front of Gnoda. She casually draws her musket and loads it with surprising alacrity given the size and complexity of the weapon, then levels it at the Blue Tunic Man.

"You should listen to my friend," the grippli croaks, her expression calm but her tone deadly serious. "Stand down."
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5 foot step, move to draw her musket, standard to load it w/ Rapid Reload~

"Elves? What did they look like?" Beryl asks as she ambles towards the bar for a drink. Over her shoulder she asks of her companions, "Does anyone know what sort of stinky herbs grow here?"

Sense Motive (DC 15): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

"Liar," Beryl suddenly croaks, giving Gilligam a hard, unblinking stare. "You should tell the truth..."

She lets the thought trail off, hoping the implication alone is enough to get the man to talk - which it apparently is.

"Hmm...steal the wares and sell for much less and gain the loyalty - or silence - of Karela's former customers. Clever," Beryl nods, satisfied. To Gilligam's little outburst, she shrugs. "Suppose you'll find out soon enough."

"Void rifle?"

You're certain that if Beryl had a visible ear structure that they'd have perked up at the thought of a cool firearm.

"Yes, let's go look," she agrees with Drelluandast. "And maybe we can learn a little something while we chat with the seller..."

Kn. Local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

"From what I've heard, if he has, then he should be skilled at getting himself out of it by now," Beryl remarks as the group exits the Forest Bounty. "And Gnoda's plan seems sound."

To the Armenian Man, the grippli simply gives an approving slap on the back.

"Maybe? I can't say. I have trouble reading humans. But sometimes a showy bluster is almost as good," Beryl whispers back.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Though she's unable to get a good read on Imad - human facial expressions are so very nuanced - Beryl can at least tell that Abdara has something in mind. So the grippli sits quietly, watching and waiting to see how the conversation unfolds.

Kn. Local (DC 15): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 Seems my druid playing in the PF2 special is getting all my good rolls lately!

"Hmm...if our search is going to expand beyond the city's borders then we should speak with the local guard," Beryl suggests.
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Maybe try the Forest's Bounty next?

"Yes. Ones that keep to the shadows might be the ones to speak with," Beryl agrees.

Diplomacy (Aid Another): 1d20 ⇒ 5

Too bad subtlety is somewhat lost on the grippli, at least when it comes to interacting with other people.

Beryl considers the offer of a disguise for a moment...but then shakes her head. "Maybe later, if going unannounced becomes the best path to take. But thank you just the same."

Kn. Religion (DC 10; Untrained): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

"Even I've heard of Alseta the Welcomer. Thank you for welcoming us into your house," Beryl croaks, giving the VC a nod and making sure to take off her hat before heading inside the lodge.

After the briefing, the grippli heads out into town to try and see what local gossip she can pick up...

Kn. Local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

...but instead ends up fending off locals that are either eager to bombard her with questions about herself and her gun or to just simply gawk.

"Hrmph! I don't like standing out. Maybe next time I'll wear a hood to cover my face," she grouses when everyone reconvenes to share what they've learned. "To this place, Molthune is like a panther lurking in the dark...with them being the prey. And they're afraid. People that are afraid believe silly things," Beryl adds to Gnoda with a shrug.

Btw Felix is following the game but this week has been weird with work and the weather and it's made it harder for him to focus on sitting down and writing a post. If need be, move the game along and he'll catch up with things when he can.

"Was she depressed?" Beryl replies back to Drelluandast. "Or was it to sound...um...I think humans call it 'cool'?"

"No wayfinder for me. Not yet, anyway. But I will get one, soon. I've heard they are useful - a compass and a light in one? Very useful for a guide."

"If Tamran is friendly to us then should we act as Pathfinders?" Beryl finally croaks, having remained silent while listening to the briefing. "Or as random...do-gooders?"

While she waits for an answer she leans in close to the gnome and whispers, "Abdara...has an odd sense of humor, I think. "

And as the Armenian Man begins performing a rather unusual-looking ritual, she cocks her head to one side as she observes.

"A soothsayer? I've seen these sorts of rituals performed in my homeland..." Beryl murmurs, a note of respect in her voice.

"Beryl," the grippli responds with another slow blink of her eyes. "You have worked together before, then. That's good. Sometimes it's easier for one to meld into a group than for a new group to form."

Beryl smiles a rather satisfied smile.

"I always find what I seek. Usually places but sometimes people. I'm good at what I do."

To Abdara, she gives a nod of acknowledgement. "Yes. I've heard the stories. A weapon of plasma would be useful, especially in the jungles of home. But I make do with what I can get. And what I can get is good enough for what I do."

The grippli looks around and finally notices the food and water set out, expression brightening. "Ah yes! Meat and bread and water - always worth enjoying," she nods, either missing Abdara's snarky tone or perhaps choosing to ignore it.

Only a few minutes after the first two figures enter the Silver Spoon a third follows, small in much the same way as the gnome but otherwise very different. Large, red, globe-like eyes slowly scan the room from under a wide-brimmed hat and then slowly blink, as though satisfied by something.

The creature ambles into the room, carrying little aside from the clothes on their back and what looks to be some sort of long contraption of metal and wood slung over their shoulder, and makes a beeline for Abdara and Gnoda.

"Other agents?" the frog-creature croaks, looking inquisitive. "Some call me Beryl of the Gun. It's a funny joke, yes? But just Beryl is fine. You are?"

While the approach and delivery is a bit blunt, it does seem meant to be friendly.

Player Name: Lady Ladile
PC Name: Beryl of the Gun
PFS Number: 192133 - 24
Faction: Grand Lodge
Discord Name: Lady Ladile (Kristin)#1112

This'll be my first time actually playing Beryl here so her characterization might be a bit bumpy as I try to find her voice.

I'll wrangle Felix over here later once he's up and about~