Callomeleth's page

Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

By the time Callomeleth can even raise his bow, the elfin woman has raced across the room, stabbed him in the side, and disappeared into the door again. He staggers a bit from the unexpected strike, and a creeping numbness begins to work its way up his side. "Fine," he says with chilling finality. "If that's how you want to play it..." He pulls the bowstring taut and watches the doorway for the creature to exit again.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Callomeleth is stunned at the speed the creature rushes towards him. By the time the though to raise his bow and loose the arrow enters his mind, the small creature is upon them.

Callomeleth's eyes narrow at the mild oath taken against his goddess, and he steps forward, his bowstring taut with an arrow nocked, though it is currently pointed at the floor.

"Step forward, whoever you are. As one of the Rose's petals, I bear you no ill will, should you bear us none." He scans the room, wondering if this is some sort of trick.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

"Indeed. The heavens see what keen elven eyes do not," Callomeleth says.

I'm heading out to GenCon starting early tomorrow, so I probably won't be posting much of anything until next Monday. See you then!

Double doors, always!!!

I still think we should just keep running back and forth between these two rooms until we're 20th level.

"Though it seems the only enemy left above ground is that giant bug," Callomeleth offers, following Tybus.

"Lead the way, Tybus. We'll be right behind you." Callomeleth locks step with the magus as he descends the stairs.

Callomeleth nods in agreement, nocking another arrow as the group moves out.

Double doors, always!

"If Gan can benefit from the phylactery, then he is welcome to it," Callomeleth says to the Gan-thing. "I am certain that Desna herself would wish Gan to sleep soundly."

Reasons!!!

I suspect I'm getting the scrolls, and the arrows are probably slaying of some flavor. I don't need them right now. I'm pretty much good with placing everything else up for sale.

Callomeleth is able to do little more than Tybus when it comes to reading the auras of the items found. His attention, however, is drawn to the despoiled shrine. "We should clean this place before we leave," he says. "Lady Luck deserves better than this. But it will take time - and there is still a great deal of castle left unexplored. This labor has waited for years to be completed - it can wait a few hours more."

Callomeleth swears as the craban disappears from sight. "Block the exits!", he cries, moving into the doorway to prevent her escape. "Make her go through us to take flight!"

It's not mechanically possible to beat that Stealth check, so just move me into the doorway we came in through. I'll ready an action to shoot her if she becomes visible again.

Readied Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

With the craban handled, Callomeleth fell back closer to Tybus. He continued his song, and the wounds on his friends continued to close.

"Someone get that craban!" Callomeleth calls out, rushing to Tybus' side. "I'll see to Tybus!" He begins to sing again, healing the wounds of his friends.

Channeling, then move into the room to set up a shot for next round.

Healing: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7

Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

One of the many blessings that humans envy elves for is their keen senses of sight and hearing. Every blessing carries a price, though, and Callomeleth keenly feels the pain from the batsrosity's screech. He grits his teeth through the pain, however, and fires off an arrow at the bat's master, the filthy crebain.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

Not sure why this post isn't just posting automatically...

If I leave the room and come back, do I keep getting the XP? Can I level up to 20 this way? ;-P

"Definitely, Tybus. Though I'm slightly encouraged that we haven't heard any defenders coming to check out the battle we had with that undead creature. Maybe we've dealt with most of them already." He also pokes around the room, making his way to the side doors.

Might as well check those out as well.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Callomeleth frowns as he examines the human remains. "Something was taking trophies," he says with displeasure. "What the Hell happened here?"

Important stuff gets put behind double doors! I vote NE!

Rule #1 of Dungeon Delving: Always go left!

"That makes two of us, my friend," Callomeleth replies softly, and follows Lamsfel further on into the castle.

"I'm not sure what it was, Lamsfel," Callomeleth says quietly, his voice choking as he imagines the suffering the child had endured. "I can at least sing him to his long-delayed judgment, and ask Pharasma to judge him fairly."

Callomeleth closes his eyes, and sings a soft, mournful Elven tune, one that is traditional to sing at funerals, and kneels down next to the child's skeleton. He continues singing as he picks up each of the bones, placing them in his pack for the time being. When the work is done, he finishes the song, and stands, his eyes wet and his cheeks tear-streaked.

"We can commit the child into the cemetery on our way out," he says after clearing his throat. "I think that would quiet his spirit, should it still stir."

Sorry, haven't checked in for awhile. I'll channel again this round.

Channel: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8

Crap. The player knows what it is.

Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Callomeleth steps in behind Tristan and swings at the skeletal being with his glaive. "In the Rose's name, what is this?"

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

It's better than Shelynan, that's for certain.

Callomeleth nods back to Lamsfel and readies his glaive.

Callomeleth's nose wrinkles at the Gan-creature's revelation. "The crebain are more loathsome than the stories suggest."

Yep, don't really care which one we explore next either.

"The Accidental God would approve, no doubt," Callomeleth says as he enters the hall, scanning the corners and ceiling for threats.

Stealth: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (16) - 3 = 13
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

For the first time since the caravan arrived at Brinestump, Callomeleth smiled as he took in the beautiful sight atop the castle tower. "Half a moment longer, Tybus," he says softly. "It's freeing up here." He listens to the distant sound of the waves falling upon the shore, feels the warm sun and the cool air upon his skin, watches the dancing light of the sun upon the rolling waves at sea, trying to take in all of the tableau at once.

"Thank you for that, Shelyn," he says at last. "I needed that." He looks back at Tybus with a nod. "I'm ready again. Let's finish this."

I have a sneaking suspicion I know which demon we're talking about. Was her eventual destination Chopper's Isle?

"I wish it weren't that way, Gan, but you're right," Callomeleth sighs. "We were tools to exact her revenge, nothing more. In her arrogance, she thought she could kill whichever of us was weakened by the other, eliminating both threats. Clearly, she hadn't heard of the Heroes of Sandpoint." He offers a smile to the group, then prepares to provide ranged support to Tybus as he opens the door.

"That's as good as guess as any, Tybus," Callomeleth says as he investigates the books as well for anything of interest.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

"Not just women, Lamsfel," Callomeleth says with a smirk. "I once knew a half-elf over in Magnimar that preferred women's clothes to men's. I once asked him how he was able to move so adroitly with his heels. His response? 'Practice, dearling, practice.'" He chuckles to himself and returns to the business of watching and listening for movement.

Callomeleth reaches for another arrow as the first one leaves his bow, and fires it at the same trog, hoping for this arrow to join its mate in the creature's chest.

Callomeleth fires an arrow at one of the stirring trog warriors. It wasn't strictly honorable combat, but it was better than being sickened by their horrid stench as well.

Callomeleth nods his approval of Tybus' plan.

"I'll support from the back rank," he says, shouldering his bow and readying his glaive.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

"Ugh, what is wrong with its face?", Callomeleth exclaims, the revulsion dripping from his words.

"Definitely," Callomeleth replies, choking as he catches a whiff of the foul air rising from the stairwell. "I'm in no hurry to head down there and find out what smells worse than rotting troglodyte."

Doh! Forgot, sorry.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

Callomeleth blanches at the troglodyte's stench, but he is able to snap off a shot at the one that noticed the party's approach.

"[smaller]If we do that, we risk getting our escape route cut off. We should probably deal with them."

"With the master and lady of the house dead, we should find our path a bit easier, I imagine."

Callomeleth picks up Zaiobe's bow, and casts a foul look upon the fallen harpy's body. "I shall sing upon your folly tonight," he says to her still form. "And upon my own, for ever trusting you."

That's actually perfect for me. Anyone mind if I claim that?

"I'll check her out and make sure she's dead," Callomeleth says, shouldering his bow and retrieving his glaive. "I'm not much of a student of the arcane, so I'll probably need someone to tell me what I'm looking at, once I find out if it's magic or not." The priest approaches Zaiobe's still form warily, cutting off her head both to make sure she's dead and as a mercykilling if needs be, then examines her corpse to find out what besides her bow is magical.

Detect magic, but I've got no ranks in Spellcraft, so someone else will have to take it from there.

Don't mess with Team Elf!

You're not far enough away just yet, turncoat, the elf thought as he pulled another arrow. And your magics won't save you forever.

A smirk comes over Callomeleth's face. At least she's having trouble hitting us as well, he thought, pulling another arrow. Her bow has superior magic upon it. I wonder if that could make it past her shield?