Caylen Etrian's page

Man, I catch up with this thread and it looks like bad news all around. I came to let you guys know I won't have time to rejoin any time soon. I can't access Paizo from the office anymore (which is where I did the majority of my posting, since I don't have much free time at home) and that's caused me to scale back on my PbPs. This was my first PbP ever and I hold a lot of special feelings for it, which is why it's hard to say goodbye to it. But for right now, I just don't have the time to commit to it.

Caylen will go on her own for the time being, but would welcome Thistle's company for the sake of it. She plans on returning before dark, so as to help with the funeral.
 
Firstly; Which direction is the monastery where we met Rema, in regards to the village? Secondly; which direction is the temple from the village. I want to try and frame the direction that the villagers say the cultists came from around our known landmarks.

Also, it occurs to me that Triela could also benefit from the robe that Caylen identified. I know the group found it before she joined, but I figured it would be fair to see if there was any other interest in it before just assuming Caylen would take it.

For record it is a mnemonic vestment.

The remainder of the day finds Caylen attempting to mend relations with the villagers that had come at the behest of the cult. As one of the only humans among her companions, she sees it as her responsibility to do as good of a job as possible to reinforce the belief that it is the cult that is the threat to these lands, not non-human presence. Additionally, she hopes that by easing the villagers concerns she might be able to learn from them where elements of the cult have been hiding out. Too long have Caylen and the others been reactive to Tolin' fire cult, and the time may perhaps be nearing to become more active in stamping their fire out.

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Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
> Time: 1d4 ⇒ 1 hour
Diplomacy (Change Attitude): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Caylen is spending the remainder of the day trying to talk to the villagers that had come with the whole pitchfork/torch mob plan and explain to them the situation and try to get them on their side as best as possible. Also, she is looking to gather information about the cultists who rounded them up to see if she can figure out where it is they came from.

A good craft (trapsmithing) check can also make bear traps (if this hasn't been mentioned already). They're ruthlessly effective at low levels.

Finished with her bandaging and satisfied with the suggestion to send Thistle, Caylen takes this moment of respite to hustle her way back into the temple. She is gone only for a short few minutes, returning with a folded article of clothing that they had discovered earlier. Coming down the steps of the temple, Caylen settles down on the bottom stair and lays her staff beside her before laying the folded robe across her lap.

"மாய பார்க்க," she speaks in the tongue of angels, a warm fiery glow covering her eyes as she inspects the garment more thoroughly.

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Caylen is using detect magic and spellcraft to attempt to identify that robe we found and still haven't properly identified.
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

While you're at it could you add about 10 extra hours in a day so I have time for everything I want to do? ;)

Following a preposterously busy holiday, I have returned!

Looking too exhausted for only having just woken up, Caylen settles down on the front steps of the temple and rolls up the sleeves of her robe. Her blackened hands carefully retrieve the small wooden box she keeps bound at the small of her back, opening it to reveal rolls of bandages and small vials, swabs of cotton and linens. "We've hardly had a moment to breathe," Caylen asserts as she begins the process of re-bandaging her hands. "I cannot muster much more magic," she admits reluctantly, tearing off one strip of bandages once she has wound a single limb securely.

Brows furrowed, she looks to where the tent Shayne's relative had pitched was, then down to her feet before working on bandaging the other arm. "If we rush into another confrontation with those cultists, I cannot say what will come. But a flame that burns too hot, too fast, consumes all it can burn... then dies out."

Winding lengths of linen bandage around her forearm, Caylen looks up to Aak and Silx, then over to the newcomer Triela. "Are we that eager?"

Hey guys, just a heads up: December is shaping up to be a real bear at my office as law firms get in their billing in advance the end of the fiscal year, so I've been pulling overtime and generally working harder than usual. As such I've been pretty burned out when I get home so I may miss a day or two of posting here and there up through New Years. Please bear with me and any slowness to respond to stuff.

As the flames on her staff die out, Caylen looks around the battlefield that has engulfed the area surrounding the temple, to the scattering villagers and the bodies of those that died in the altercation. Seeing Triela conjuring blades of air and sound, seeing Aak, Silx and Rema fighting for all that they can, Caylen is struck with uncertainty.

But finally, when that illusion is called up from the ground and the world around Caylen twists into a burning wreckage of what once was, when the ground splits open and tongues of damning flame jet forth, when the sky blackens and walls buckle and bend unnaturally she feels a pang of fear in her chest. The staff she carries drops with a clatter to the ground, and Caylen turns her dark eyes toward that cultist first in fear, then slowly something else begins to smolder in those coal-black eyes.

Hands trembling, Caylen begins to crackle and pop as smoke suffuses up from her hands between the blackened portions of skin where more tender flesh is visible. Heat radiates out in waves and she moves forward towards the cultist. "No," she murmurs, her hands trembling, "NO!" Caylen screams as she thrusts her hands forward, heat and light erupting from her palms.

"THIS HELL IS YOURS!" The young woman finally cries as a roaring cone of flame explodes from her outstretched arms, washing over the cultist as though it were a part of the very hellish landscape he created for them all.
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Will Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11 (fail; shaken)
Move Action: Move 30' closer to the cultist.
Standard Action: Cast burning hands
> Burning Hands: 2d4 ⇒ (4, 2) = 6 (Reflex DC 15 for 1/2 damage)

Caylen finally moves from the temple entrance, passing through where the villagers stand and casting none of her baleful stare in their direction. Instead, she calmly strides towards the foe Aak is facing in combat, circling around the side of the orcish warrior and raises one hand, the flaming staff still held aloft.

"You had your opportunity," Caylen exhales the words in breathless exasperation as a fiery glow builds within the exposed flesh and muscle beneath the strips of burned flesh on her outstretched arm. Heat and smoke ribbon out through the fissures in skin, and Aak knows what will come next as a gout of flame erupts from the young girl's hand, blasting outwards over the warrior Aak battles.

____

Move Action: Move up with Aak
Standard Action: Burning Hands
Burning Hands: 2d4 ⇒ (3, 1) = 4

Seeing that the tide of battle is turning in their favor, Caylen stands ready to dispense the light of life for her allies. One hand raised, there is a radiant glow coming from her burned hand. The flaming staff she carries is held out to her side, the twisting tines at its top glowing like freshly forged steel rippling with flames. Her hair blows about in that thermal wind surrounding her, and the young oracle seems poised to act but serenely still.

_____
Standard Action: Ready Action to channel energy (healing) if any ally within the 30' burst becomes injured. If Caylen sees a non-villager enemy in her aura of healing she will exclude them with selective channeling.

Map helps, I had totally pictured the setting differently. I thought the temple was more isolated and on top of a hill with a bunch of stairs for some reason.

Going to wait and see what Rema and Silx do before acting.

Staying at the bottom of the stairs, Caylen raises aloft her staff and pulses with radiance, expelling a wave of positive energy from her body as it shifts from its form of living fire to that of the young, dark-haired girl once more. The healing energy surges through orc and human alike, indiscriminately healing both the orcs and the villagers. "These men lie to you," Caylen affirms, burning staff held high. "They are not the light, they are pretenders!"

_________
Channel Energy (healing): 1d6 ⇒ 4
Affects all living creatures in 60'

How injured are the villagers/orcs, if at all?

Caylen calls out, her hollow voice echoing back to her companions. "The crowd is a trick -- a shadow, an illusion! There are but six villagers!" Raising her fiery staff into the air, Caylen gestures to the man who spoke the word swine.

"Him," Caylen directs, hoping Silx is within range to target the ringleader.

Half-awake and hair disheveled, carrying the staff Shayne had left behind in his passing, Caylen stumbles out of the temple bleary-eyed and unprepared for the disappointing show of ignorance before her. Still reeling from the departure of Shayne and the events of the last few days, the young woman's patience is drawn wholly thin. But were it just frightened, ignorant villagers that made these cries she may have been able to let Triela speak her words and cow the masses with diplomacy. But it isn't, they are in the crowd, inciting the riots, being the match that thinks it is the flame.

Rage swells in Caylen's heart and the blackened flesh on her forearms and hands begins to smolder. Coming down the steps, Caylen passes by Triela and lays a hand on the bard's shoulder, her eyes never leaving the riotous crowd. The gesture is not one of support, but dismissal. Your words won't work here, the firm touch implies. Whether or not Caylen is correct has little to do with how much she believes she is right.

Coming down the stairs, Caylen speaks words in sibilant litany. The greenish metal of the staff begins to glow brightly, shedding a vibrant light out from its cresting-wave shaped head. "LIES!" Caylen screams as she raises the staff in one hand. "You speak of flame as if you know it! You speak of purity as if you are it!"

Between her sentences, Caylen utters another verse of sibilant words in the tongue of angels, the call of celestial tongues causing what was once merely light on her staff to erupt into burning flame that erupts from the fissures in her skin and wreathes the staff's radiant end. "Time and again you have come to disrupt our work, you dispicable shadows of flame are no more than smoke and ashes!"

As the nears the crowd, Caylen's entire body emits rippling heat waves, her hair tossed on thermal winds only she can feel and tongues of smoke thread themselves out fo the exposed flesh between the blackened strips of charred skin. "Does the match believe itself the flame in the face of the Inferno!" With those last words, Caylen's entire body explodes into the same fiery light her allies have seen time and again before, that Triela saw the previous night.

Caylen is a shimmering form of pure white flame that sheds her own light as bright as the staff, flames roar off of the staff's raised haft and her body is painfully bright to look at. Her voice, hollow and echoing sounds as though it is called from somewhere else. "In the name of this sacred place you defile and the pain you cause, you will cast down your weapons and seek forgiveness for your ignorance!"

It isn't Caylen speaking anymore, it isn't her mannerisms or her kindness. Like in the past when enraged, it is something otherworldly and beyond the young girl that channels it. Something else informs her words, something full of wrath and indignation at the sight of this cruelty.

"Cast aside your hatred, or be shown what purifying flames truly are!"
 
 
 
 
 
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First up. LOTS OF ROLLS.
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15 (can she see if the instigators are familiar?/Looking for Silx)
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19 (assessing the mob, trying to determine how strongly they believe this stuff that's being spewed. Are they loyal cultists or just gullable townsfolk, etc.)
Heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17 (how hurt are the injured people? If there are serious injuries I will probably channel positive energy next round.)
Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17 (is Angraad worshipped in this region? Not sure if we learned that at the temple, if so that'll affect what Caylen says next.)
Lastly, and I'm not sure if this is right or not, but I'm trying to convey a duality of carrot/stick with the villagers. Peace and comfort if they put down their weapons, fiery doom if they don't. The Diplomacy check (which is in aid of Triela's) is meant to reinforce those who already see them in a favorable light or are willing to turn to their side. The intimidate is meant to frighten the flame cultists, mostly, or scare off the townsfolk who have been indoctrinated by them. Again, nto sure if I can do that, but if I have to take one or the other I'll go with the untrained intimidate.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Caylen is moving down the steps of the temple toward the crowd during her speech. She is casting light, then sun metal on the staff, then activating energy body.
 
That should catch her up to everyone else in terms of number of actions/time.

Writing a post, might take a moment. Wordy.

Roughly how big is this mob? 20? 100? Just want to get an estimate of size before I do anything. Where is the mob in relation to the temple? About how far are they, approximately, from the steps up to the temple? How far away are the two "instigators" from the temple doors?

Caylen only needs Charisma, so that would be her first pick. Int and Wis, sequentially, after that.

In the temple, that night...

Caylen, having finally come to terms with the steady influx of events that have bombarded her and the others since they concluded exploring the temple gets her conversational footing back. Standing between where Shayne is observing the murals and where Triela is explaining her situation, the young oracle still seems suspicious.

"Convenient," Caylen mutters, offering a worried look to Rema, before turning her attention back to Triela. "Who told you about us? We're-- not exactly widely known. We're just-- we're no one special." Glancing to Silx, Caylen looks to see if the drow is as accepting to Triela's story as the others seem to be.

"I just--" Caylen exhales a sigh, "You're going to need to be a little more convincing than that. It's-- we've--" her words fail her for a moment. Only when she stops being so anxious do they smooth out. "We've had some problems. So... start from the beginning," she invites, "and once you're done, we'll... think about it."

What was seen in that vision can wait until morning, at least.

Caylen is dismissive of the concern over her sudden predicament, waving off aid with one burn-blackened hand. "I-- I'm fine," she blearily mumbles, slowly getting to her feet and downturning the corners of her mouth into a frown as she sees all of the dirt collected on the front of her robe from her collapse. Exhaling a sharp sigh, Caylen gently brushes her fingertips across her brow.

"I just-- I saw something," Caylen murmurs, looking to Shayne for a brief moment before turning her attention to Triela. There's a profound look of distrust that flashes across Caylen's face, followed by a look to Shayne to see if he offers any visible tells about his perception of the woman. But for the time being, Caylen offers no further protest.

Instead, the young oracle moves to follow the others into the temple and will air her grievances in closer quarters.

Caylen's inquisition of Triela is brought to an abrupt end when the dark-haired young woman lets out a confused whine and grips her head, knees buckling again before she collapses down onto them on the ground. Caylen hunches forward, exhaling a shuddering breath as she winds blackened fingers through her hair and seems momentarily unable to function.

It is. I just parsed it out completely. +3 from the dice and +1 from favored class. Also gave myself the wrong 1st-level spell, forgot I'd taken planar oracle with Caylen.

Leveled Up:

+1 Will Save
+1 BaB
+3 hp (+1 favored class)
+1 0-level spell known (detect magic)
+1 1st-level spell known from mystery (endure elements)
+7 skill ranks
+1 1st-level spell per day

2nd-level Hit Points: 1d8 ⇒ 3

Exhausted from the prolonged battle with the undead, Caylen takes some time to finally get to her feet. The presence of the warden spirit and the conversations of the others pass right by her as she stays kneeling on the ground, catching her breath and waiting until her hands stop shaking to rise. By then, the spirit and some of the others have already gone on towards temple, leaving her with several of the orcs and others that had come to the temple.

Flexing her burned hands open and closed with a wince, Caylen pauses to assess the situation and then hustles along the dusty ground on sandaled feet to catch up to the group. "Hold on!" Caylen shouts, eyes wide and wary of the spirit as it pauses and turns to speak to Silx. She skids to a stop on the dry ground, then reaches out an accusing gesture towards the unfamiliar woman that had slipped her way into the group during the fight.

Caylen's dark eyes flit to the spirit, then back to her. "Who are you? What-- what do you think you're doing here?" Caylen had every reason to be suspicious, as the last travelers that they encountered on their way here were members of the flame cult and nearly killed them all. Hiding a dagger behind a smile seemed to be their way.

There's a look shot to Aak and Silx, then back towards Shayne and Haknee. There was also still the matter of Ragore and Groshnodok back towards the other buildings. There was just so much going on.

____
Will level up either tonight or tomorrow, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment.

Unleashing a scream, Caylen's flickering form of elemental light explodes outwards in a blast of heatless white flames that roll over friend and foe. The detonation is a scourge of positive energy against the last remaining undead nemesis, blackening flesh and turning the burned edges orange with glowing embers. Her allies, however, remain unharmed by the pure flames.

As the radiant nimbus fades, Caylen -- returned to solid form -- slouches to one knee behind Aak, looking visibly winded and barely able to stand.

__________

Standard Action: Channel Energy (Harm Undead)
> Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2 (Will DC 14 for Half Damage)
Channel Energy: 4/5

Oh shoot, sorry. Should've said I was delaying to see if Aak and Silx's actions take out the last remaining zombie. Caylen is almost entirely out of abilities.

Hands trembling and ashen flakes mixed with glowing embers drifting off of her arms, Caylen once more draws deep within herself to the wellspring of positive energy. Breathing in deeply she focuses the fear, anger and heat within herself outward. Soon, Caylen's body begins to shed a pale, colorless radiance as smoke issues off of her clothing. A moment later, the young oracle's eyes glow a brilliant white and light shines out of her mouth like a bullseye lantern before her entire body explodes into a roiling humanoid form of living white fire.

"No!' Caylen rebukes the undead, drifting forward and washing over Aak like an inferno. But the flames do not harm Aak, rather they fill him with a greater warmth and turn his wounds to little more than ash that harmlessly blows off of his body. Moving in front of her friend, Caylen -- now an elemental force of life itself -- stands in defiance of the undead.

_____________

Stadard Action: Activate energy body
Move Action: Move through Aak's square to the nearest unoccupied square in front of him, healing Aak 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 points of damage.
Note: Any undead creature striking Caylen with its body or a handheld weapon deals normal damage, but at the same time the attacker takes 1d6 points of positive energy damage + 1 point per oracle level. Furthermore, with the elemental subtype Caylen is immune to flanking and critical hits.

As the undead continue t march in unabated, Caylen's expression begins to shift from confidence to panic. That there have been no injuries on their side was the single point of solace that she held. Confounding matters more was the presence of a stranger in their midst, and while her aid is appreciated trust -- especially after the incident with the cultists -- is more tempered.

"Hold on! They cannot last forever!" Caylen shouts, her small voice ringing out ahead of another pulse of positive energy expanding out from her body, that rolling wave of colorless, heatless flame barely burning the flesh off of the advancing undead. It is clear at this point that she is getting exhausted.

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Standard Action: Channel Energy (Harm Undead) Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1 (Will DC 14 for Half Damage)
Channel Energy: 3/5

Seeing the undead relentless in their approach, Calyen keeps her hands raised to the sky, white flames issuing out from the fissures in her burned skin where orange embers burn brightly. Her hair whirls around on a thermal wind and the ebbing and flowing tide of warm fiery energy continues to blast outward from her, surging when the deep crimson glow from Aak subsides.

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Standard Action: Channel Energy
Channel Energy: 1d6 ⇒ 3 damage to all undead within 30 feet. Will Save(DC 14) for 1/2 damage.

I am! But I already took my action :B

Huh, you're right. They're only immune to phantasms. I always figured hide from undead existed because they were immune to all illusions. Tricky! Well,t hat's what Caylen gets for rolling knowledge (religion) and not spellcraft ;)

"Shayne! They've no minds of their own, they aren't fooled by illusions!" All of Caylen's studying at the monastery had paid off, her understanding of these monstrosities and their nature was something she could now recite, something she could share with the others. Never did she imagine in all her wildest dreams that she'd need to.

Seeing the creatures continue to approach, Caylen curls her fingers closed and wrenches her eyes shut. The young oracle's hand begins to tremble, tongues of white flame issuing out from between her fingers. Then, with another loud cry she thrusts her hand back up into the air and releases another wave of positive energy in a seething sphere of heatless, white flames that crashes against the undead like a lapping tide.

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Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Formation is actually more like this:
R | S | A
  |    | C
Caylen is directly behind Aak. I am not sure exactly where Shayne is in the formation. So if any zombies come after Caylen they'll need to move through Aak's threatened area (most likely) and provoke an Attack of Opportunity.
Channel Energy: 1d6 ⇒ 2 damage to all undead within 30 feet. Will Save(DC 14) for 1/2 damage.

Unfortunately, you have to choose whether to harm undead or heal when you use channel energy, it can't do both at the same time.

As the armored undead march closer, Caylen throws one hand into the air and lets out a clarion cry. The bandages erupt into pure, white flames that blast the wrappings from her outstretched fingers. Light and heatless flames explode from the young woman's body and flare outwards, consuming her companions and the undead in that violent radiance of swirling ivory-white flames. Orange embers fly from the undead where their bodies blacken as if they had been touched by a heat no one else can feel.

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Channel Energy: 30' burst centered on Caylen for 1d6 ⇒ 3 damage (Will save DC 14 for 1/2) to all undead in effect.

"No!" Caylen shouts when she sees the first of the armored undead emerge from the doorway. Forgetting her grief at Shayne's words of parting, the young oracle turns her back on the halfling and grips his whip tightly in one hand, tucking the scroll he'd given her into her sash carefully.

"Stay close!" Caylen orders, moving up to stand behind Aak. As she does, the young oracle's open hand begins to smolder, fingers of smoke issuing out from between the bandages covering her hand as they start to blacken like the flesh beneath.

_____________

Move Action: Move to stand directly behind Aak.
Standard Action: Ready channel energy (to damage undead) once the zombies are in melee with Aak.

The noise draws Caylen's attention back towards the temple doors. Her eyes grow wide at the sound and a look of confusion dawns across her face. Still in shock from the revelation that Shayne may be leaving them, this is just another jarring event in a day filled with unexpected turns.

Having been silent while Shayne spoke with the gnomish visitor, Caylen continued to fidget anxiously, growing more concerned as time passed. On Shayne's emergence from the tent, Caylen steps forward, then pauses as Shayne begins speaking to the group as a whole and the others. After he hands over his whip, the folded net and that scroll Caylen's brows furrow worriedly.

"We can go with you," Caylen implores, brows raised and concern painted across her face. "The dead-- " there's a brief, apologetic look to Rema before Caylen looks back at her small friend. "The dead can wait, the living-- it's..." swallowing tightly, Caylen shakes her head and looks torn between her promise to aid Rema and her devotion to a friend.

"We need you," sounds like it should be more of an I than a we.

I was totally waiting to see how things played out with Shayne, mostly to give him focus instead of anything else.

Letting Shayne do the talking with this unfamiliar "relative," Caylen approaches Aak and offers a furtive glance to the spirit hovering silently beside the meeting. After a moment Caylen's attention returns to Aak. "How do you suppose this traveler and his guide happened upon us? Wasn't this temple lost?" A suspicious look is offered to Rema, hoping she will voice her own quiet concerns while Shayne unwittingly distracts the new arrivals.

But there is the matter of the unfettered spirit of the dead looming nearby as well.

_____________
Sense Motive (Take 10) = 16
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Emerging from the temple grounds, Caylen sticks to the back of the group at first but seems puzzled by the presence of a gnome with similar features to that of Shayne. Given their rather divergent lineages, it seems unlikely to be coincidental, but whether this is some sort of supernatural trick or otherwise she isn't quit sure of yet.

First scrutinizing the gnome, Caylen's brows furrow and worry seems to paint her face. She looks down to Shayne and leans in towards him. "I... think he's telling the truth, Shayne. But... but something's wrong." Straightening up, Caylen offers a brief glimpse to the spirit, then settles her attention ont he other human.
_________
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
How is this human dressed/what do they look like? Heavily armored bodyguard? Varisian wanderer? Stylish coconut bra and iron boots?

Whoops! Looks like I forgot to let you guys know I was moving!! Ugh, I knew I might miss one of my PbPs!

Sorry! My internet is down at home for the next couple days, so posts are limited to while I am in the office (such as now), so I'll have one up today.

How many orcs on our side (Aak not counted) do we have with us right now?

The spectral image of a man has Caylen frozen in anxious tension. One hand has been raised to her chest, fingers curled against her palm, as if she would be holding a pendant or necklace. She's never worn one. Exhaling a steady breath, the young oracle takes a step forward and breathes out a soft, "Shayne" when the halfling approaches the spirit, then turns to follow its direction.

Cursing to herself, Caylen moves with a hastened step to catch up to Shayne, worriedly shooting a look back over her shoulder. "I'm not sure he is the most impartial guide, Shayne. If-- if that's the same-- " she looks back again, on heading out the door into the hall. "His bones tried to kill us."

To Caylen that makes his spirit just as culpable.

Hey guys! Sorry for my slowness as of late, I've been working real hard to find inspiration on posts here, though I think the new momentum will help with that. I'm also hip-deep in a freelance project too that I'm hoping to be done with shortly, so my time has been quite divided. I should have a post up today :D

"Silx!" Caylen instinctively yelps as the floor opens up beneath him. Holding her breath, the young oracle stares wide-eyed at the nimble drow, awestruck that he was able to avoid danger so handily. Seeing a mechanized trap like this in action, Caylen is reminded of stories about brave tomb explorers told to her as a child.

They seem much more real now; as does the danger.