Corrleon Daxio's page

Corrleon was going to try oh so hard to pull Greyston out of that downward spiral too. Mmmm. I like to think he succeeded in the end. =P

Understandable, dude, and no hard feelings at all. I like to think Corrleon went on to be at least half as good a character and paladin as Anton and that Del is back on Golarion now as a pirate king with the oddest assortment of adventures serving as his loyal crew. =D

Corrleon, growing uneasy at the increasing prospect of the group being pinched between enemies on both sides, advances toward the westward leading corridor. Once within the narrower hall, the triaxian begins to shed his misty form.

I put a green arrow on the map for where Corrleon starts resolidifying himself

Is the dragon flying around the pillars or bounding around on the ground?

With a movement speed of 600ft/rd, should distance modifiers be applied to those perception checks? I feel like we could have been 300, 400, or even 500ft out and still zipped through the doors in a single round

I'm saying, we should rest before diving into this. We aren't full after that fight with the roper, are we? We don't want to go through that door at anything less than our absolute best.

Corrleon returns to the group and relates his findings, "I'm afraid there is but one way into Yrax's icy fortress. I could find no crack or seam anywhere but for that front gate." He pauses for a moment, "That also means that door is the only way out. What we are about to do is beyond dangerous. Are we each prepared? There will be no breaks once we are within Yrax's halls."

Hope you have a speedy recovery, mate!

Alright, work is still utterly bonkers, so my day-time posts are likely going to continue to be scarce, but my computer at home is now back up and running at least. Sorry for the silence last week!

"Before we leap into the maw of the beast, perhaps I might slip ahead and learn what I might of our foe? I can pass as a simple, unassuming bird for a time and perhaps there is another way in?"

Happy to go with Elleross' plan, but I can scout ahead for a place we can head toward that might be out of sight where we can turn solid again.

With the groups blessing, Corrleon draws his cloak up over his shoulders fully and slowly shrinks down into a small bird. He dips his beak to the ground sweeps one wing long across his chest, offering a graceful bow to his companions, before taking wing and zipping out over the moulin.

Perception: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (12) + 21 = 33

I don't know if birds are native to Triaxus, but my cloak lets me turn into something that is native to the region. Any sort of small, unassuming and flying critter will do. Just looking for a window or small fissure or anything of the like that we can mist through that are the bloomin' front doors.

The light from Corrleon's halo has healing properties, namely lesser restoration.

The furious light surrounding Corrleon slowly melts away, wicking away like ribbons of silk caught on a breeze. The steady radiance from his halo remains, however, and as he approaches Greyston, Apsu's warmth brings some relief to both the alchemist and to Corum.

lesser restoration (Greyston): 1d4 ⇒ 2
lesser restoration (Corum): 1d4 ⇒ 3

Corrleon continues to let his bow thrum, the light limning his body flaring up with each arrow's release.

Longbow (1st): 1d20 + 28 ⇒ (14) + 28 = 42 for: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17
Longbow (2nd): 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (11) + 23 = 34 for: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17
Longbow (3rd): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (4) + 18 = 22 for: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 23

Anyone inside the circle on the map gets +1 morale bonus to AC, attack rolls, damage rolls, & saves vs fear

Corrleon sucks in a breath as Greyston instantly succumbs to the roper's attacks. He takes a steadying breath, the halo behind his head flaring brightly as he focuses on the task of bringing his bow to bear.

Grimacing, he throws his head back and shouts, "Daxionnen Apsulanti!" and the previous flare from the halo erupts into a burning beacon of white fire that briefly take the shape of unfurling dragon wings. The wings spread wide before wrapping in around Corrleon and fading into a steady white glow which limns his entire frame.

Longbow (1st): 1d20 + 28 ⇒ (16) + 28 = 44 for: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18
Longbow (2nd): 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (5) + 23 = 28 for: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18
Longbow (3rd): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (16) + 18 = 34 for: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 22

Anyone inside the circle on the map gets +1 morale bonus to AC, attack rolls, damage rolls, & saves vs fear

Corrleon watches the newcomer's magics fizzle and his ears fall flat in concern. His voice, though earnest, is soft with encouragement, "You are far from you home, Nishimura and your Yabu has sustained you thus far; do not let your faith waver now!"

Ahhh. The dreaded Nine Helps, where all the helpers are eager but only make things markedly worse and frustrating.

Corrleon's bow leaps into his hand, but the triaxian doesn't take a shot immediately. Rather, he calls out, "Terrazen Zerata!" and a flash of light lances down from somewhere far above, limning him in a shimmering glow before it gathers in a radiant, pearlescent halo behind his head.

Move action: draw bow
Standard action: power of faith

Anyone inside the circle on the map gets +1 morale bonus to AC, attack rolls, damage rolls, & saves vs fear

Corrleon moves forward slowly from the back of the group. He places one hand on Greyston's shoulder as he passes, offering a single, firm squeeze to express his solidarity with the man. As he passes Elleross, he extends the same silent gesture.

Arriving at the edge of the crater-like depression, he turns to look at Nishimura and nods in understanding but then shakes his head. "I am already inured to the cold much more than you travelers are, but thank you for the offer."

He then turns back to the crater and takes a knee, touching one open hand to the ice and with the other making the sign of Apsu's wing over his heart. After a few moments of silence, he rises and waits patiently for the others to ready themselves for the trek before them. We the group moves to depart, he does his level best to remain alert to any possible dangers.

Perception: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (14) + 25 = 39

I'm off to the woods for the weekend folks! I'll be back from my camping trip late Sunday night (early Monday morning for you, JZ =P).

"Baknarla's people are called adlets, but yes, essentially. Yrax has forced them from their lands and they now suffer for their separation from it. Perhaps in not so different a way as you suffered while within the hut."

Corrleon chuckles at Nishimura's outburst. "Yes, yes, I imagine you will see stranger sights yet than Baknarla here or myself, newcomer. But, joking aside, our task is a harrowing one and you should steel yourself for it." Corrleon's tone shifts at this, his ear ridges rippling, leaving him with a more angular, serious countenance; the normal softness in his demeanor gone. "The path we walk is now a grave, and beyond a fortress held by a dragon warlord who has rendered Baknarla's people displaced and my own besieged. We walk into hardship and violence, both for the good of Triaxis and to placate this Baba Yaga who chains each of you so."

As Greyston rises, Corrleon stands as well, "Let me walk with you, Greyston." He waits until the group is well out of earshot of the camp before striking up any conversation with the man.

"You bear a terrible burden, Greyston, and I do not refer to this curse you share with the others and the newcomer." His ears fall flat, the ridges collapsing down and his face softens deeply. "We have only just met for the large part, but -" his words stall at a hitch in his breath and Greyston can see emotion already welling in the triaxian's eyes.

"Let me just say that Sorrow is a long and deep road. I understand the desire to be alone while walking it," he gestures back the way they'd come, past their camp and to his simple homestead far off in the wilds where has lived alone for years upon years as if to illustrate his point, "but know that you do not have to. And while I know I cannot offer any words that will help, I can sit beside you, in the dirt and snow, and grieve." He places one hand gently on the alchemist's shoulder, moisture stilled welled up in his eyes.

Corrleon rises, his ear ridges rippling briefly with surprise as the group arrives with an extra in tow. "And I did not expect your companions to return with another traveler. Are there a great many of you within that chicken-legged hut?" The question is asked mostly rhetorically, but the triaxian's genuinel confusion and surprise are plain enough.

He then looks to the newcomer and nods formally, reflecting the gesture of her bow. "Indeed, these snows have seen many foreign feet tread across them of late. I am Stalacorr Leo Nuphrides Bett Chalcedarr Dus Daxionnen, but your companions simply call me Corrleon. Apsu's grace be with you, traveler." He gestures to his fire, inviting the group as a whole to sit and be warmed.

lol - don't forget y'all went in there to rest, Elleross! =P

Corrleon inhales stiffly at the question, exhaling slowly as he considers it. "I do not yet know. The path they walk is a bitter one and my heart breaks for the burdens they bare. I have been praying since the day after our paths first crossed for guidance and direction from Apsu, but-" he lets the sentence fall to silence with a shake of his head and a shrug. "Finding the path he wishes you to walk is not like opening a book and turning to some random page, nor like looking up and seeing it written in the clouds across the sky. Similarly, he rarely speaks through prophetic dreams or visions. It is-" he hesitates, looking for proper words, "it is more like following the needle of a compass. The nearer you are to the destination, the stronger the needle's pull toward it." He nods, satisfied with the analogy, "I will continue to at least walk beside these travelers, and when Yrax is broken and toppled, perhaps the needle will pull more strongly toward one way than another. Until then, I will help whom I may."

Corrleon nods, the ridges along his ears falling flat, giving the gesture gravity and weight. "Well then, perhaps with Yrax's fall we can give your people the edge they need to reclaim your home." His tone is solemn and he lets the words hang as he prods the heart of their small campfire with a long stick.

And here I was thinking it was a reference to a previous pbp group that petered out =P

"Brave, yes, but burdened as well. They are bound to the path they walk and they cannot turn away from it, no matter the losses they suffer. It is both admirable and tragic."

As the pair make their way into the wood, Corrleon displays no small amount of savvy as they forage for food and materials and a shelter, the Triaxian showing that his years beyond Spurhorn's walls were not spent in lazy comfort.

"Tell me of your people, Baknarla. Yrax has taken the land from your people, this I know, but how else do they suffer? If there is anything more I can do for them apart from this assault upon the warlord, I would like to."

Corrleon watches as the strange travelers, now bearing wounds far deeper than he had any art, craft, or power to mend, step once more into the alien hut that brought them to his world. He mutters a soft prayer to Apsu beneath his breath and that his light would be a lamp to their feet.

He turns away, heeding Elleross' previous warnings of the structure, and looks to Baknarla. "It is a grievous thing, sometimes, to watch others suffer while knowing that neither empathy nor sympathy can span the gulf. I do not know how long they will remain within the witch's hut, but you and I should find shelter, my adlet friend."

As Greyston rages against Elleross, Corrleon looses a long and heavy sigh. He lowers his head for a moment, the ridges on his ears falling flat, as he raises the knuckle of his index finger up to bridge of his nose.

He sighs again, more slowly than before, then opens his eyes as a soft dome of soft, iridescent blue light ripples outward from him like a curtain of thin, ephemeral water. As it passes over each of his remaining companions, their wounds quickly begin to knit.

As the light fades way, so too does the burning halo above his head.

Channel (healing)x2: 12d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 5, 5, 2, 2, 2, 1, 5, 2, 6, 6) = 44

Oooofff. We couldn't bring the ladies with and just leave them to baby sit the hut? As if Greyston needed any more reasons to drink, JZ! <sniff>

Welcome welcome!

"Leave me if your magics cannot bare us all, Elleross. I have wings of my own if need be."

holding off on a post until all of round 2 is resolved - need to choose between shooting, healing, or running =\

Good golly, JZ. That was brutal. Just brutal! Must have felt great as a GM but my word, I'm reeling! lol

Ow. 27+36 = 63
If not for cold resist, would be straight up dead.

Corrleon stiffens under the tremendous blasts of frigid air, his fur goes stiff and his eyes and lips limn with frosty crystals. As the beasts finish and settle back to the ground, the triaxian shakes himself free from the ice and brings his bow up. The biting, wicked cold gnaws at his limbs though, leaving his arms shaky and his aim unsteady. As he finishes his rapid volley, he brings some of Apsu's healing grace to bear for himself and a small portion of his wounds begin to knit.

Longbow (1st): 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (8) + 20 = 28 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Longbow (2nd): 1d20 + 20 - 5 ⇒ (9) + 20 - 5 = 24 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Longbow (3rd): 1d20 + 20 - 10 ⇒ (8) + 20 - 10 = 18 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Longbow (haste): 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (7) + 20 = 27 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Lay on Hands (self, no mercies): 6d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 6, 1, 1, 4) = 17

"Terrazen Zerata!" A flash of light bursts from Corrleon as a shimmering, pearlescent halo forms above his head. Warm, white light radiates from the triaxian as he readies his bow and shifts to be in the center of the group. "You were saying, Baknarla?" His ear ridges ripple briefly as he shoots their guide a wry grin.

All allies receive +1 morale bonus to AC, attack rolls, damage rolls, and saving throws vs fear if they stay within the radius of Corrleon's light

JZ - just a reminder that Corrleon also has a +4 on initiative checks out in this cold terrain!

Corrleon places a hand on Elleross' shoulder, the gesture gentle and encouraging as he nods. "We will find little respite upon this path, my friend. Predators such as those are likely to be some of the least of our worries." As he speaks, warmth blossoms from his hand and spreads through the elf's body, knitting most of his wounds and stealing the chill from the air.
Lay on Hands (no mercies): 6d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 4, 4, 2, 3) = 18

Corrleon growls under his breath as the behirs reject his offer of clemency, "So be it."

Longbow (1st): 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (1) + 19 = 20 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Longbow (iterative): 1d20 + 19 - 5 ⇒ (14) + 19 - 5 = 28 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

Corrleon steps out away from the wall and brings his bow to bear, snapping off a pair of quick shots at the left-most behir. "You'll taste no flesh this day! Return to your caves now, while you still can!"

Longbow (1st): 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (4) + 19 = 23 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
Longbow (iterative): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28 for: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11

(If these things don't have the cold subtype, then the attack and damage rolls are all at -1)

I mulled over this for a good while last night and for the bulk of my morning today and I'm still not sure which solution is best.

I'm happy to continue, but all the avenues of doing so just seem so clunky and clumsy.

I'd built Corrleon to be a back-up healer rather than the main source; he'll never keep up the pace though with how much Corum likes to get hurt =P

This is a pretty sudden and dramatic change for the party, though. Especially in a narrative sense.

Corrleon chuckles as the group slowly descends down into the crevasse, "You travelers seem to enjoy leaping from high places at any chance you get. Is this normal back on Golarion?"

<sad face> Bye, Paul! =(

Corrleon embraces his niece as the group prepares to split away with Baknarla. He touches his temple to her left and whispers his parting words for her ears only. He then turns to shake hands earnestly with Efrixes next, "Until we meet again, old friend."

As the dragonkin and Bescaylie depart, he sniffles once, the sound catching in his throat like a choked off cough. He turns back to the others and his eyes are plainly wet, which he makes no effort to hide. He smiles warmly with a nod, "Ah, but I am proud of that one. Come, let us proceed. This crevasse will not traverse itself."

Corrleon's eyes widen briefly in surprise before he nods, "Indeed. It seems as though our aims align. Ivoryglass itself was our destination when we happened upon your flight from the ursikkas."

Corrleon will translate

The triaxian frowns slightly as the adlet begins cavorting around her spear. Looking up at the others, he hesitantly observes, "It seems you travelers are in some way expected." Crossing his arms, he watches the odd reaction and serves as intermediary as the need arises.

"They seem to wear it on top of their heads and few other places," Corrleon offers with a wry grin.

Corrleon casts a glance back over his shoulder at Greyston's call, then turns back to the adlet, hoping she's not preparing to bolt. He entreats again in Triaxian, then switches to draconic if she still seems to not understand, "Indeed, it is as the furless-one suggests, we only wished to offer our aid. Tell me, are you injured at all? Ursikkas are cunning predators, I know."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 33

As Lucrezzia turns to Corum, Corrleon approaches the Adlet, calling out in Triaxian to the figure as he shoulders his bow. "It seems the ursikkas have been felled. Are you well? Were you injured at all?"

I forgot my crits with the bow are x3! If that last shot did crit, here's the damage I missed!
for another additional: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18

Corrleon doesn't even feel the chill bite of the ursikka's adhesive saliva before it turns brittle and falls away (Cold Resist 20). Unhindered, he rises to his full height and looses a trio of arrows.

Longbow (1st): 1d20 + 20 - 3 ⇒ (2) + 20 - 3 = 19 for: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19
Longbow (2nd): 1d20 + 20 - 3 - 5 ⇒ (10) + 20 - 3 - 5 = 22 for: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
Longbow (3rd): 1d20 + 20 - 3 - 10 ⇒ (5) + 20 - 3 - 10 = 12 for: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Rolling slightly to lessen his impact, Corrleon shakes his head as his rises to his feet, though the sticky strands of the ursikka's saliva still cling to him, hampering his movement. Wresting his bow free from the tarry spittle, he grunts away the dizziness from the fall and steadies his aim.

He slows his breathing, sights down the shaft of his nocked arrow, and lets it fly for the ursikka that brought him to the ground.

Longbow: 1d20 + 20 - 3 - 4 ⇒ (19) + 20 - 3 - 4 = 32 for: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17
crit?: 1d20 + 20 - 3 - 4 ⇒ (14) + 20 - 3 - 4 = 27 for an additional: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15