Chamius Lune PFS's page

A slender, dissolute-looking human man slouches in, looks around, and leaves.

"Maximo's Hideaway." He taps out a syncopated rhythm on the djembe he carries. "Been closed for a while now, I think. Not sure what became of old Maximo, either."

"I never adventured with old Trotter, so I couldn't tell you much about him. He got the idea for the Lodge from Maximo Interresante, I believe, who started a bar for Pathfinders. I played drums there a time or two...haven't been back in years, though."

"How fleeting is fame...Trotter Flaxseed, the gent who founded this lodge nine years ago. Feckin' brilliant archaeologist."

Tapping a drum meditatively, a Taldan human slouches in and looks around. "Just not the same since Trotter left, hey?"

I don't see a day job result for Chamius.

ETA: strike that, just spotted the tiny print.

Thanks for running! No worries re the dragging; it's a thing that can happen on the boards. Good timing on finishing just as Outpost was starting, though.

Perform (Percussion) check: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31

"Congratulations on surviving another mission, and good working with you all!"

Chamius nods, for once being serious. "Of course. May we draw it first, and write down any inscriptions on it? I spoke truly when I told you that it's knowledge we search for and prize most highly, across the wide world, more than treasures or ancient magic."

It's his elemental assault ability.

Chamius looks around with a grin. "That went well."

Spellcraft check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

"Watch out! Her next attack will be magically accurate!" The bard taps out a quick one-two on his drum and chants, "Though darkness comes and shadows fall/The knowledge clan's light rises high/Our arms are strong, our cause is worthy/Now strike with haste! We stand or die!"

Inspire courage, you know the drill.

"We would appreciate guidance to reach the Huscarl King's castle safely, and your knowledge of the perils of the castle itself."

Diplomacy check: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

"We ask your assistance, as well, to show us what we should and shouldn't do in the castle. None of us know your ways well, and we don't want to give offense where it's not meant."

With a +12 Diplomacy, Chamius automatically aids another.

A 17 should do it, even if Bon Jon dumped CHA.

Chamius clears his throat and begins to speak, first in Common and then in Hallit. "We are Pathfinders, part of a, a clan of adventurers and explorers who travel the world in search of knowledge. For there is much of wonder in the wide world, and much to learn. And, to be sure, much of peril as well, so it behooves us to be strong.

"Though we may be found most anywhere, and though people from all over may be adopted into the clan, our heart is truly in Absalom--the City at the Center of the World. It was from there that we--" He pauses to indicate the others in the party. "--set out, journeying north to the city of Trollheim in the Land of the Linnorm Kings. There we were to meet with a scholar who had written much of that place for the Pathfinders.

"When we arrived in Trollheim, though, we found that the scholar had been kidnapped by clan enemies, the Shadow Lodge. We followed, of course, and finally were able to rescue the scholar in Whitethrone. However, we learned that our clan enemies were traveling here, to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, in search of a terrible weapon rumored to be held within the castle of Ranulf, the Huscarl King. They're likely in search of Jedrek's Shard, which I believe you watch over.

"Now, we would prefer that they not retrieve the Shard, lest they turn it against the clan. And as explorers, we would like to learn more of your people and the watch you keep."

Perform (Oratory) check: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21

Wait, did she take an arrow to the knee?

The bard grins at Teyma. "An honor. I'm Chamius Lune, drummer and occasional raconteur. Your Common is a fair bit better than my Hallit--are you from around here?"

Chamius translates for the party. "I think we should go with them. If I'm right about the cave painting, the Snowmask Clan can help us."

Chamius looks around the rest of the party, then back at the apparent leader. "Talking is good. Where are we going?" He repeats the comment in Hallit if the leader shows no sign of comprehension.

"And we'd best get to it sharpish, hey?"

That's what I'm waiting on, yes.

Chamius eyes the trampled corpse and ponders. "I'm going to take a wild guess here. There are probably some number of large herd beasts that live in the canyon. The folks we're trailing realized this and took the long way around to avoid sharing yon tiger's fate. Do our resident speakers to animals have any chance of talking down a herd of mammoths?"

At Jordun's question, Chamius shakes his head. "No dried meat on me, I'm afraid. Someone else in the Society once advised me to carry some in case I ran into raptors, but I thought he was joking."

Good point; I shouldn't take that as a given.

Knowledge (History) check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

And it doesn't matter this time.

"That beard is interesting, now that I think on it. Kellids aren't known for their luxurious facial hair, so the gent with the axe is unlikely to be from these parts. That motif with the mammoths? That's indicative of the passage of time in this particular style of iconography--it's the annual migration, see, so each repetition indicates the passage of a year. The moons also denote the passage of time. It's an indeterminate amount, but usually long. So this tells us something interesting, hey? We've got our non-Kellid with a red axe, defeating a white dragon. Thirty years pass, he dies, and some folks leave his castle with goodies that don't include the axe. Then the castle is buried by an avalanche. A long time goes by, and now the castle's location is watched by people who commemorate the warrior and his beard by...wait a minute. By wearing white pigment on their faces...and who have we seen do that recently, hey?"

Perception vs. DC 18: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Since we're not in combat, can Chamius take 10 on the Knowledge check?

The bard peers carefully at the painting, ioun torch floating closer to shed more light on the ancient artwork. "Interesting...looks as though this drake, or dragon, was originally painted white. Most of the pigment has worn off, but there are a few traces left. Same stuff is around the face of the axe wielder--makes it look as though they've got quite the beard, hey?"

Anything else of interest in the cave?

While Sven makes nice on the raptor, Chamius casts detect magic and looks around the cave.

This is probably moot unless the raptor has a really good AC, but don't Bon Jon and Ktasha get AoOs on the beastie when it stands up?

GM S, did you give any penalties for it striking from prone?

Chamius draws his whip and tries to trip up the red raptor.

Trip attempt: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Chamius delays to see if Jordun's spell works.

Fort save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Fort save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

Chamius takes a while to come up to speed, but soon gets his second wind.

Chamius waves in salute as they depart. "They say they'll put in a good word for us with their fellows. If everyone's healed up, let's be on our way."

"They're asking for healing, so they can leave in peace. If no one else steps up, I'll take care of it, hey? Though some channeling from Jordun might also help Bon Jon--you look a mite beat up."

"Fair point."

The bard returns to Common. "So, the others are still ahead of us. This lot of Snowmask thought we were in league with them, as they're carrying the same sort of insignia as we. Charming, hey? They're rousing the Snowmask against us as they go. Not sure what we can do about it, though."

"Ah. Did you think we were allies of theirs?"

Chamius addresses the two of them in their native tongue. Even in the foreign language, the bard's oratorical skill is apparent.

Diplomacy check: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

That worked well once--let's see what this last one's sense of humor is like.

Chamius tries the same joke out on Red.

Casting hideous laughter; DC 15 Will save or falling down and helpless.

"If this was easy, they'd get someone else to do it. Don't worry about the flesh wounds--I've got a few wand charges with your name on them."

The bard nods. "If we can. They may be in no mood to talk, but--" He shrugs. "--we can try, hey? More like I can try...at least one of us speaks the language."

Chamius addresses the Kellid on Sven in Hallit, his words charged with magic.

Casting hideous laughter; DC 15 Will save or incapacitated and laughing.

The bard waves a farewell to the departing Kellid. "Well, the bad news is that we don't have a safe passage, and since we're following a group of bad actors the Snowmask clans are going to be alert and ready for trouble. The good news is...no, there is no good news. We'll just have to be careful. If we can, let's try to talk first."

Before the Snowmask leaves, Chamius poses a pair of questions to him.

Knowledge (Local) check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

"He's referring to us as defilers. Anyone know what he might mean by that?" It's a DC 18 Knowledge (Local) check.

Diplomacy check: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32

"Took me a second to recognize that--sounds like Hallit." Chamius replies in the same language.

"Feck." The bard looks for a relatively intact cloak among the fallen, and if necessary casts a quick cantrip to clean it off before laying it over the wounded Kellid.

"It'd be a fine thing for you to pretend you're a monk of the Sacred Mountain right now, and leave the talking to me." Chamius makes sure that the Kellid's weapons aren't in easy reach. "Jordun, would you mind waking this chap up?"

Chamius draws his curing wand and taps the mostly-dead Kellid.

CLW wand, 29 charges remaining: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

"It's a wolverine, not an opossum."