Brayden Valdrin's page

Brayden spent the celebration in his own mind. He danced with Klara, twirling her around with his arm and laughing along, his face masking his constant, unerring flow of thought. He knew he'd be leaving tomorrow, and it saddened him.

The samsaran awoke to an unusual warmth above his body. He opened his eyes to find Klara's arms cradling his chest, her leg resting atop his own.

How will I tell her?

Brayden doesn't wake her up. He convinces himself it would be rude to. But he knew the truth. He was always leaving, his presence as fleeting as the thoughts he struggled to decipher.

He checked the mirror. Covered himself with a smile. That'll do. It always does.

Klara still sound asleep, he made his way downstairs, loudly and abruptly clearing his throat as he arrived at breakfast. "Well, friends..."

"It's been a pleasure, but I feel I have so much more to learn about myself and my history. With the connections I've formed with you, I feel I've already more insight into what it means to be alive, as an adventurer, and a Pathfinder. However, I need to seek answers. I'd tell you more, but that would mean putting my burden on you. I must go," he pulls on his cloak, "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but know that I could not have chosen better companions to adventure with. And I promise I do not say that to just anyone." His face lights up brightly with a wide, bittersweet smile. "... Congratulations, Jan."

Thanks for another great game, GM Ladile. I have no complaints either. Standalone, the adventure seemed like it was both interesting and detailed without being too full of superfluous knowledge checks or dialogue that often goes forgotten in play-by-post format. I strongly feel some scenarios need a player to keep a word document of notes with the amount of NPCs and investigation there sometimes is.

But I digress! Great job storytelling and making combat interesting, too.

I'll put a Brayden post up with his exit this weekend.

Brayden narrows his eyes, closely listening to Meredith and Lazarus explain, and then he considers Frankie's recollection as well. "Both detailed and true summaries, yet both told in very different ways."

"I have nothing more to add to the account other than to offer my persuasion, as well. Let's face it, friends, it was all a misunderstanding. The monument caused the fire, not the goblins. Say what you will about them and their obsession with fire, Dragbog is easily in the top percentage, intellectually, of all goblins."

Diplo Aid: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Brayden sheathes his katana and begins moving towards the monument. His movements accelerate as his dense blade returns to its normal weight. "Thank you, Dragbog, for the gifts. And great job deactivating the monument, Lazarus. The Society will want to study this closely and see just how it contributed to the starting of these fires. Allow me to help."

Str Aid: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Reflex Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Brayden scowls in pain as ribbons of blood leak from the fresh wound on his arm. He swings his arm around frantically and puts the fire out.

"That's right, Yorad, Frankie, keep this monstrosity distracted as I lay pain upon it with the full force of Shizuru's might! Kyaaaa!" Brayden waits until Frankie and Yorad have distracted the creature. The samsaran digs his feet in and strikes out at the flaming mess.

Good Mwk CI Katana, LB, PA, Bless, Flank, Aided by Flash and Master Knife: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 222d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (4, 2) + 3 + 2 = 11

I wish I was going to PaizoCon!

... But I'm not. :( I'll likely register at a few tables at FanExpo in Toronto when it rolls around come September.

Speaking of which, do any of you ever play your PbP characters in F2F PFS games?

"Indeed, Yorad," Brayden switches his shield and katana, juggling them between his hands. "More.. STABBING!" Watching the elemental rise to its feet, Brayden slashes across its fiery mass.

AoO, Good Mwk CI Katana, LB, PA, Bless, Flank: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 = 262d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (1, 2) + 3 + 2 = 8

"It is unfortunate I cannot speak in their elemental tongue, or I would tell them how I can, well, do this all day," a snarky grin on his face, Brayden slashes again and again, his arms a blue blur.

Good Mwk CI Katana, LB, PA, Bless, Flank: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 = 232d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (3, 1) + 3 + 2 = 9

Peeing on a fire elemental. Now, I've heard it all.

"Frankie, you are as brave as you are quick!" Brayden grins, watching the "child" stomp across the sand. "Thank you for your assistance. Let's triple team this thing, Yorad," the samsaran says as he holds his katana aloft all Master Sword-like and brings it down with purpose.

Is that a flank? I think it is...

Good Mwk CI Katana, LB, PA, Bless, Flank: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 1 + 1 + 2 = 232d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (3, 3) + 3 + 2 = 11

If Red is down, Brayden will move 10ft North and use the same attack on Blue!

Brayden grins at the blinded elemental, then rubs his hand along his katana. "Shizuru, impart your blessings onto this sacred weapon. This weapon of the chosen," he bellows to the smoky sky. The blade suddenly glows green, and Brayden still has enough time to attack.

Use Improved WotC to align the blade as Good for the purposes of overcoming DR. Use Fervor to cast Lead Blades as a swift action. When used this way, Fervor does not provoke an Attack of Opportunity.

Good Mwk CI Katana, LB, PA, Bless: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 1 + 1 = 242d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (4, 3) + 3 + 2 = 12

"It seems we've finally reached our destination," As he advances, Brayden brings his blade in front of his face and mutters an incantation. A white aura surrounds him. "Let's take care of these burning skulls and restore this village to what it once was."

Advance and cast PfE on self, AC 23 vs evil

"That would be most appreciated, Cenenviel. And thank you for the berry," Brayden accepts the spell, and draws his katana as he whispers a prayer. Already his blade begins to glow green, but he stops one word short, knowing that the blessing will only last a minute.

Brayden's eyes widen. "Fire elementals combined with dragons? But... how?" He rubs his chin, staring up through the smoke. What strange thing happened here? He had no idea. "Yes. Intense cold, and water. And perhaps the blessings of the gods would help, as well."

A length of vine is pulled out of the ground as Brayden finally tears himself free, nearly falling over in the process. "Stupid foliage!" He complains, joining the others as they speak with the elven man.

"I am Brayden, and as they say, we are from the Pathfinder Society and here to help with the fire," the samsaran fumbles with his katana, removing leaves and twigs from it.

This is an old timer elf, not one of Kenner's daugthers. Why are you so awkward?

"We're told your name is," he puts on his best goblin accent, "Se-NEN-le-LEL. What is your actual name, though?"

1. Nope!
2. Absolutely.
3. Sounds good.

I think I might be being too agreeable here... :P

I have intentions on running/playing PF2 like I run Starfinder right now. Fewer tables, and less frequently.

Brayden looks up at the bower. "You would have thought he'd try to move into a place safer than a .. treehouse once this fire started," he chokes on smoke. "Come on, Dragbog, let's tear our way through!"

Strength: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Instead, Brayden's wrists and ankles become tangled in a nest of underbrush.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 2 = 16

"A lovely tune, Dragbog," Brayden smirks.

Who would have thought...

The samsaran walks slowly through the smoke, holding a wet cloth to his mouth as Dragbog had suggested earlier. His eyes burn red with the latent heat, and he squints to try and get a handle on where the elf's home might be. "Perhaps Logan might be able to pick up on a scent?"

"I wonder how he lost his pet," Brayden ponders, looking at the necklace over Meredith's shoulder. "Perhaps the wolverine was terrified of the flames and became skittish, charging off into the woods. I'd think we might pass by .. Senenlelel's? place on the way to the village. Might be able to return his property," the samsaran suggests. "And gather more information about the, what was it, walking houses?"

Brayden lets his katana sag in his sore hand. "Strangely, I have.. no wounds. I could have sworn I was bitten and clawed, yet my wounds have closed. Frankie, your touch is somehow magical. Intriguing."

Brayden scratches his head, puzzled. "Frankie, I am uncertain why, but I feel much better after that simple pat on the leg. Strange..." Turning back to the blue-furred wolverine, Brayden strikes with renewed vigor.

Mwk Katana, Fatigued, Lead Blades, PA, Bless: 1d20 + 7 - 1 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 7 - 1 - 1 + 1 = 212d6 + 3 - 1 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1, 3) + 3 - 1 + 2 + 1 = 9

Brayden advances to join the pseudo Shield Wall. "It doesn't seem we'll have enough time to calm all of them, so I'll help you subdue the others, Jan," he calls. He strikes laborously his katana, the density of the blade pulling at his sore, fatigued muscles.

Mwk Katana, Fatigued, Lead Blades, PA, Bless: 1d20 + 7 - 1 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 7 - 1 - 1 + 1 = 172d6 + 3 - 1 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (4, 6) + 3 - 1 + 2 + 1 = 15

Oh, I have no problem at all switching characters to bring up the APL, but I don't think I've got any free Level 6 or 7s that I assume we would be looking for. Brayden will still be 3 after this scenario. For a small bump, I've got Zavubak and Serge who are both Level 4. Happy to bring either, if it will help.

Looking forward to it! I haven't played any of those scenarios.

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Brayden's arm is singed with sparks falling from the burning tree above. "Ugh, I should really be more careful." The samsaran marches on - this time, carefully avoiding anything that might burn him - and closing the distance. He ends up just next to Denair. "If you have some way of calming them, please do. I'll otherwise have to, well, let my blade calm them in a different way."

Brayden lurches ahead, his chest still burning from the smoke he had inhaled. "Angry animals in the middle of a burning forest, huh? And giants? Sounds like I am going to need a more sturdy weapon." He runs his hand along the edge of his katana, and the blade pulls down as it doubles in density.

Move and cast Lead Blades

"Like... this?" Brayden tears a strip off his pants and uses create water on it, then ties it around his face. "A bit uncomfortable, but it will definitely help. .... Hey, Frankie, what are you doing!?" Brayden shuffles quickly back from the halfling. "This isn't a game, it's for the smoke!"

Brayden runs for a moment, then stops suddenly and turns, casting Create Water above Frankie's head.

Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
"It stings..." Brayden chokes and wheezes. "But we must press on. Empress of Heaven, guide us through this smoke."

Survival: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

Brayden chokes on smoke and fumes. "I can't imagine why anyone would inhale this willingly," he manages between coughs. "Let's push our way through, and hope that we have enough to help at the source."

Brayden swaps out Stabilize for Create Water after resting

"A rest sounds just lovely," Brayden slices an apple up with his katana, leaving a wedge on its tip and holding it out for someone to take. He nudges Lazarus. "Hmm... I... am not sure what he meant by walking houses, nor am I sure I would like to find out."

It's a friendly RPG fire that conveniently burns in a wide perimeter to avoid the party as they sleep. :)

"I'm um," Brayden rubs his toe. "I apologize I was not able to help more. I do possess the ability to create water, but I was not prepared this time."

Are you *ever* prepared?

The samsaran turns to the goblin. "Dragbog, it sounds like there are undead to deal with. Bad things, those undead. Might your tribe lend us some assistance at the source?"

"My boots... My boots!" Brayden cries as his big toe is exposed and charred.

"Ugh, never did I think I would have more trouble with a simple fire than I did with an undead foe!" Brayden curses as he stomps on the brush with all of his might!

Survival: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Brayden turns in the direction of the trench, startled as he'd been whispering a prayer to himself as the conversation went on. He rushes over to clear any fast burning brush and branches from the area, using his katana to cut through as needed.

Survival: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

"Our newest companions include a goblin, a bear guardian, and, if you hear us out, perhaps you," Brayden bows to the centaur. A little politeness goes a long way. "With safe passage, we'll find the source of the fire and put an end to it for good. Everyone wins."

Well, maybe not *all* of the goblins...

"An honest mistake," Brayden smiles.

I wouldn't expect anything less from goblins.

"But it sounds like we need to set things straight, and we've already formed some level of rapport with the centaurs, so perhaps we can further it with a simple explanation."

Diplomacy to aid: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

I'm with everyone else here. Breaks are totally fine, and you shouldn't post if you're not feeling it. I go through this same thing all the time, and it's why you'll see frequent but short delays in most of my games. If I don't feel I can write something interesting and fun, I pass on posting for that day. I'd expect everyone else would do the same. This is a creative hobby after all, and you wouldn't pick up a guitar or paint a picture if you weren't feeling inspired at the time, would you? Take care!

Brayden frowns, unable to conjure up water or elementals quite as easily as the others did. "I must resort to more pragmatic means. I should be able to get up there, with enough determination." The samsaran digs six pitons and a length of rope from his backpack, and uses the hilt of his blade to hammer the pitons in a line on the side of the house. He weaves a rope through and, a bucket of water in one hand, uses the outside wall for climbing support. At the top, Brayden tosses it onto the flames before heading back down to get a refill.

Climb w/ Rope vs DC 5: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (20) - 1 = 19

"Perhaps they are an unaligned splinter faction of the main goblin tribe," Brayden ponders. "Much like that Shadow Lodge, except... the opposite. Who knows."

"I am glad we were able to get through to your clan, Chieftain," Brayden bows. "It is as they say - we have been tasked with assisting in dousing the fire, and that is what we come to do. Is there somewhere we can help? Besides the obvious 'pour buckets of water' on it, of course." He smirks.

Reflex DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
The vines wrap around Brayden's boots, holding him fast. "Gah. I am held by nature itself," the blue one grumbles, pulling his feet against the thick foilage.

"Please, we are not goblins, and we're here to help with this fire. The longer we fight, the more that will burn!" He pleads.

Diplomacy (Aid): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

"Civilized goblins?" Brayden's just as surprised as Lazarus. "I thought I'd never see the day. Come on, let's find Nelket and help at once. I'm sure there must be something we can do."

"A pet pigeon could be fun. Frankie would be able to send letters anywhere. Or perhaps others could send him candy from afar," Brayden laughs as he tries to fan the pigeon towards Frankie.

Handle Animal: 1d20 ⇒ 10

Afterwards, he listens to Jan's knowledge. "If these trees are flammable.. And you add goblins to that.." Brayden cringes at the thought. "We must be leaving soon."

"A fire? How awful," Brayden grimaces, peering out the window. "I wonder how bad it is, and how we might put out such a blaze. Lazarus, my blue brethren, can you conjure up some water when we get there?"

Player: GM Red
Character: Brayden Valdrin
Pathfinder Society Number: 205498-17
Faction: Sovereign Court
Slow Track or Normal: Normal

This Chronicle #: 7
Starting XP: 7
Initial Prestige: 10
Initial Fame: 12
Prestige Spent on this Chronicle: 0
Starting Gold: 5675
Day Job Roll: Craft (Weapons): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Gold Spent on this Chronicle: 1000
Anything else you want me to note on your Chronicle: Nope!

By this point, Brayden had pieced together a few things: he'd been killed in a crypt somewhere, and he worshipped Iomedae devoutly in his past. But he wasn't sure if that was his most recent past or some long-lost iteration of him. It haunted him so, the incessant voice in his head cryptically hammering at him and manipulating him in ways he did not even know.

He tried ear plugs. They didn't work, and affected his spellcasting ability. He also looked quite silly when he walked into the shop to purchase a cloak of resistance and wondered why the shopkeep was mute. A crude form of sign language followed, but Brayden got his cloak, the very annoyed merchant throwing it at his face with an angry scowl.

And then Brayden returned - ear plugs removed - and shyly sat nearest Klara, making small talk before being interrupted by one massive pigeon. "Oh? Is this a messenger? A feathered one, too. I wonder if it'd make a good pet," the samsaran smiled, tilting his head at Frankie. "What's in its cargo? Let's see..."

Yeah, I'm with you there in preferring to start our next game here before March.

I've signed up to run two more tables during OutPost II, one which may be for the Red Arm table if it matches the requested subtier, and another Starfinder game. I've kept my plate pretty light over the past 6 weeks with only playing in 1 game and running 1 game, but I'm in a better position now to take on a few more tables :) I don't think anyone here plays Starfinder, but if any of you do, you are welcome at my table!

Chronicle looks good, Lady L. Thanks for another great game!

Craft (Weapons!): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Brayden creates a wooden stick with nails lining it. It's about a step above goblin-tier weaponry.

"Frankie.. Of all times.." Brayden sighs, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands.

What is it you're looking for, anyway, you dolt? What will this do for you? Find someone to love and hope that she fixes the broken you that you know is you? Dig deep. Focus on your prayers. Discovery of yourself is as much a journey as these Pathfinder escapades you've chosen to engage. You don't need anyone for that. You aren't even vengeful anymore. You're nothing like you were then. You know you aren't.

"I'm afraid.. You'll have to excuse me, Klara. Frankie, please, keep our friends company." Brayden quickly stands from his seat. "I... have other matters to attend to."

The samsaran walks away from the altar and finds a corner of the camp where he can be alone. He sits with his back to a tree, cross-legged, his hands folded in front of him. He stares into the sky, and at least for that moment, nothing exists but himself and the stars.