Brakkik's page

Brakkik carefully rolls a vial across the floor towards the other ratfolk's feet in an attempt to keep her from seeing it until it explodes!

Bomb, IC: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 8 + 2 = 18
Fire damage, IC: 2d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (1, 6) + 6 + 2 = 15 (7 fire splash damage - Reflex 17 to halve)
Miss: 1d8 ⇒ 1

As long as the bomb hits its target, Brakkik can exclude Cade from the splash damage via Precise Bombs.

Perception vs DC 9: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

Brakkik spots the hidden sniper and attempts to light her up with an explosive burst of fire!

Bombs Away, IC: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 8 + 1 = 14
Fire damage, IC: 2d6 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 + 1 = 11 (7 splash damage - Reflex 17 to halve)
Miss?: 1d8 ⇒ 6

Go ahead and move Brakkik to get a clear shot at the sniper if needed @GM.

Perception vs DC 27: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

Brakkik watches warily.

“I’m not sure, but one thing I can say is that whoever wrote this has a precise sense of smell. Oh!” Brakkik begins fumbling around on his belt, then in his pack. “That means…” he continues haphazardly, “…that she could likely smell that we came from somewhere else. Unless we… Aha!” He holds up a short stick of light-colored wood. “We can hide our scents with this!”

Lol, getting some use out of that wand of negate aroma. XD

Brakkik instinctively reaches up to his mouth as if to pluck something from it, then pauses and sadly takes a wand off his belt.

Linguistics, Circumstance: 1d20 + 6 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 15 = 25

I think that wasn’t Brakkik’s Will save?

Brakkik leaps into action, trying to grab the flask before it can be damaged. “Don’t go by the main door!” he calls out as a warning to his companions.

…Steal?: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

Not sure where the flask is currently, but Brakkik’s first concern will be to get it and make sure it’s safe. @GM, please move Brakkik’s token as needed.

Brakkik moves towards the other doorway, stopping suddenly and turning around. He squints at the bottles and vials on the wall, doing his best to not rush over to see the other alchemist’s formulas.

Perception vs DC 25: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

I don’t suppose this is a trap by any chance? If so, Brakkik would gain. +2 bonus from Trapfinding.

Perception vs DC 20: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

"Psst." Brakkik motions towards the southern wall with his thumb. "I think there's a backdoor over there. Do we wanna...?"

Brakkik chimes in as the guard asks for a passphrase. "The serpents rise again, of course."

Heal vs DC 15: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

“Maybe she’s cursed?” Brakkik whispers to Raelene.

Perception vs DC 29: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Brakkik nods, hands held firmly at his sides like a riverdancer.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Brakkik tries to imitate Xiao, but his clumsy somersault is interrupted as things begin to fall out of his pack.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, that's fine." Brakkik is too focused on not putting his new handful of bottles and packet of dried herbs from the shop into his mouth to pay much attention.

Yep, that sounds fine!

"And to look at your wares! I need some more poppy syrup and lionfish quills - you got any? I doubt you'd have crystallized emotion, but I suppose it never hurts to ask."

"Ooo, I can't wait to talk to Omeck!" Brakkik concentrates very hard on not instinctively putting a bottle in his mouth and spoiling Xiao's hard work. "But if she's a regular client of his, that probably means she makes stuff - either alchemical, magical, or maybe both!"

"Dāngrán!" Brakkik replies, trying to not rub any of the white powder from the disguise kit off his face. His cheeks lie strangely flat, their usual contents tucked into pockets and packs.

Perception vs DC 25: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

"Tiān nǎ, nǐ zhèlǐ yǒu duōme kě'ài de dōngxī," he continues, walking around the shop and nodding appreciatively. "Zhè shì nǐ yǒngyǒu de yīqiè, háishì yǒu gèng duō de hòutái?"

“Oh, didn’t Amara give ush shome ov thoshe?”

Pretty sure she gave us a disguise kit, and maybe some scrolls of disguise self.

Knowledge (local), Untrained: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Knowledge (geography), Untrained: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Brakkik nods in agreement. "That shoundsh about right," he agrees, shoving a bottle back into his cheek. "Ooo, ish that blue vhinnish poishon? That'sh nashty shtuvv..." He shudders.

New pic, who dis?

1. Forum Name: Hawthwile
2. Character Name: Brakkik
3. PFS #: 264524-12
4. Roll for Day Job: Craft (alchemy), Crafter's Fortune, Take 10: 10 + 16 + 5 = 31
5. Initiative: 1d20+5
6. Perception: 1d20+10 (+2 vs traps)
7. Faction: Grand Lodge
8. Speed (Slow or standard): Standard

“I’m pretty shure ve dishpershed rah devil dogsh,” Brakkik answers with a wide grin. “And rah devil at rah houshe. That vash all ov them!”

“Ye-ye-yesh, I shuposhe it did,” Brakkik answers through chattering teeth. “Did anyone grab rah booksh? And Cade’sh rope?”

"Ooo, thoshe shound like vun!" Brakkik pauses for a moment. "Um, how long do they lasht?"

Craft (alchemy), Crafter’s Fortune, Take 10: 10 + 12 + 5 = 27

Also, did we have another scenario/GM planned to follow this one? I’m still a bit busy and would be hesitant to take another PbP GM slot on my plate at this time, but I’d hate to see the group stall out if that’s the only other option.

Knowledge (arcana) vs DC 25: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

“It’sh got shome shtrong protective shpellsh on it,” Brakkik observes, water dripping from his fur into the floor. “Oh, and look at theshe shlotsh! Maybe that’sh a short ov locking mechanishm vith rah other book?”

Knowledge (nature) vs DC 15: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27 (Let's go with special defenses and special attacks)

Brakkik's voice cuts off as the ratfolk flies off the ledge and into the water. Grateful that his extract hasn't expired yet, he clambers back onto the steps and plucks a glowing vial from his mouth. "" he cheers, throwing the (likely) explosive into the fray.

Bomb, PBS: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 1 = 9
Fire damage, PBS: 2d6 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (3, 3) + 4 + 1 = 11 (Splash damage 7, Reflex 15 to halve)
Miss?: 1d8 ⇒ 6

With his swim speed, it looks like Brakkik doesn't need to make Swim checks unless the water is stormy. So move to get back onto the steps, then throw. If the bomb hits, Brakkik can exclude his allies with Precise bombs - but if it misses, everyone within 5 ft needs to make the Reflex save against the splash damage.

"Shounds like shinging?" Brakkik offers.

Brakkik likewise pulls with all his strength - though it isn't much.

Strength: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 = 8

"Don't let go ov rah... oh, he did."

Strength: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (3) + 0 = 3

Linguistics vs DC 15: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

“Oh, thoshe are numbersh!” Brakkik exclaims delightedly. “Shee, that’sh a vour, and that’sh a three…”

Translations copied to slides

“Maybe they’re a vay to open that door!” he continues excitedly. “Here, let me shee…” The alchemist spits out a bottle from his cheek, uncorks it, swallows the brown-blue oil inside, and begins clambering up with wall like some sort of strange monkey-ratfolk. “Oh, vait!” He hops back down to the floor and sets his pack down before looking at his companions. “Doesh anyone have a rope?”

Using extract of monkey fish to gain a climb speed of 10 ft for 4 minutes. Brakkik doesn’t have a rope of his own (too heavy), but he could take one up to the top and tie it off so other folks could ascend more easily.

Reflex vs Dog Breath: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Brakkik carefully steps away from the bad dog, nervously chewing on the willow branch. "Ow..."

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

AC 22 with shield.

“Ouch!” Brakkik yelps, scorched streaks of blood decorating his already-scorched fur. “Shopkeeper, run!” Frantically he props his open wounds with the wand, hoping his allies can bring it down before it brings him down.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

12/21 hp

Brakkik squints at the dog-creatures, then sighs heavily. Before he can let himself fall into depression, however, the ratfolk spots the unprotected merchant next to one of the beasts. His ears perk up, fall flat, then slowly rise. Eyes narrow with determination. Slowly, but purposefully, the alchemist strides up to the infernal creature and interposed his small body between it and the shopkeeper. “Y-you… You leave her alone!” Bravely he brandishes his chewed willow branch like a dagger.

Drink extract of shield and move and draw wand of cure light wounds.

"If we are headed into the tunnels, I suggest those who need light have a magical source, not easily extinguished by water. It probably wouldn't hurt to also make sure we have some backup methods for breathing, just in case. I want no drownings on this assignment."

Brakkik shakes his head gloomily. "Can't tosh bombsh undervater - they don't even ekshplode properly. Let'sh be quick."

"Oh yesh, there vere shome thugsh vho shaid they vere told to get rah book vor shomeone vho callsh themshelvesh rah Shea Vitch!" Brakkik adds cheerfully. "Have you heard ov them?"

Before hesitating as she addresses Brakkik. “You must be Abdara. I sense you could benefit from some of the programs the Silver Crusade offers, My Dear. Do give some thought as to how letting the Dawnflower into your life might improve it.”

“Oh, nonono, Abdara ish much taller,” Brakkik protests. “She’d be sho upshet iv she heard you convushe ush. I’m Brakkik.” The ratfolk holds out a hand to shake. “And ve vere looking vor you becaushe thish man - Mishter Gill - shaysh you have a book needed to sheal avay a thoushand demonsh locked inshide itsh partner book.”

Brakkik’s certainly a chatterbox, but not when it comes to getting useful information. He’s ready to move on, but no worries if folks want to stay out for a little while longer.

“Oh yesh, that makesh shenshe.” Brakkik nods along, apparently not having any problems understanding Gill’s garbled speech. “Did ve vant to ashk them any queshtionsh, or shall ve keep moving?”

Woo! Thanks for checking!

"Vhoopsh!" Brakkik steps back quickly before spitting another glowing bottle at the thug. "Ptouvey!"

Bomb, PBS, IC, Flag: 1d20 + 7 + 1 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 7 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 28
Fire damage, PBS, IC, Flag: 2d6 + 4 + 1 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (1, 1) + 4 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 9

5 ft step and spit throw bomb, excluding Xiao's square with Precise Bombs. Did the thug evade all the splash damage from the first bomb with the successful Reflex save to halve?

Fortitude vs DC 15: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Brakkik cheers before realizing that might be an inappropriate response to getting bombed back.

Brakkik glances one way, then glances the other. Do we want to hurt them? They haven't hurt us yet, but it certainly looks like they want to... Nodding decisively, he steps between Raelene and Ferdrin and plucks a faintly-glowing bottle from his mouth. "Bombsh avay!"

Bomb, PBS, Flag vs Green: 1d20 + 7 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 1 + 1 = 15
Fire damage, PBS, Flag: 2d6 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2, 6) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 14
Splash damage, Reflex 15 to halve: 6 = 6

As the fiery column merges with the burning crown above the tome, the latter slams shut with a THWUMP, immediately extinguishing the flames that lick the sides of the townhouse's southern wall.

I think we're good on that count...

Brakkik starts to raise an hand and then slowly lowers it with a guilty look on his lopsided face.

Brakkik ignores whatever the spiky devil was saying and continues glumly toward the fallen man. He spits the wand half-heartedly into his hand, not even bothering to wipe the saliva off before tapping the man with it.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Move and use the wand. So sad to be an alchemist when fighting a devil. XD

Brakkik glumly tucks a vial back into his cheek and starts making his way across the room to the still form of the man he assumes to be the scholar. The tip of the chewed willow wand sticks out of his mouth like some strange tongue.

Double move, planning on healing dude-guy next round. Hopefully the devil doesn't have Combat Reflexes.

Earlier...

Brakkik tries not to instinctively swallow all the chicken skewers stuffed in his cheeks when the venture-captains appear. Perhaps in an attempt to not draw attention to himself, he stays silent and accepts his envelope from VC Navhelan without a word.

Currently...

"Um, shouldn't ve be going inshide?" The short alchemist gently tugs on Raelene's arm and points past the crowd to the estate gate. "Ve already know shomething bad happened here, sho let'sh not vashte any time vixshing it!" He keeps a careful eye on the halfling's dog from around the taller woman's legs, ears flicked back slightly.

The sharp smell of something burning arrives at the table before the little ratfolk has even rounded the hallway corner. “Ah! Friendsh!” A wide smile splits his face, stretching oddly over his overstuffed left cheek. “It’sh good do shee you again. Do you know vhat the Venture-Captain hash in shtore vor ush thish ti- Ooo, rah little shkeversh!” Brakkikik quickly starts replacing various bottles and vials in his cheeks with pieces of chicken plucked from their skewers, stuffing all the extra things haphazardly in his pack.

"I bet Venture-Captain Esmayl Ibn Qaradi has some wicked stuff locked away in his liquor cabinet back at the Lodge."

"Ooo, do you think any ov it'sh vlamable?" Brakkik rubs his hands together excitedly.

Craft Alchemy, Take 10, Crafter's Fortune: 10 + 12 + 5 = 27

Thank you for a fun game GM! Info on Slide #3 is up to date.