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Xylian gets his combat tracking up on the giant and finally has everything lined up, but why is everyone shouting?
What if everyone just picks their own preferred level? I think Forest is a lvl 13 fighter with 3 mythic levels at heart.
Xylian winces at the mental assault, but his scientist brain is highly resilient. He double-overcharges his cannon and shoots another blast of jagged ice at the climbing giant lady. The cannon makes a chirping sound, alerting Xylian to its low battery, but Xylian already knows because of his important scientist brain.
Question for you Ironperenti that may or may not effect what feats and stuff I take this level. Next level (10, not this level we've just gained) Forest will get another 'slot' for Advanced Weapon Training, as he'll have 10 fighter levels and can take one Advanced Weapon Training per 5 fighter levels. Obviously his big combo right now is to use Martial Flexibility to take AWT Feats as needed. Martial Flexibility says you can use it to "gain the benefit of a combat feat she doesn’t possess." If Forest takes a permanent Advanced Weapon Training Feat at 10, would he still be able to use Martial Flexibility to take other AWT's on the fly? That was a really fun encounter, by the way. Thanks =) Whole fortress was done well. As for gears, Forest took one of the +1 Amulet of Natural Armors and one of the +1 Ring of Protections. I suppose he'll take the Boots of the Mire for now, he's useless if he can't get into melee range and they may come in handy. The Gloves of Dexterity wouldn't be wasted on him, but looking at Konrad's sheet I don't see a Dex boosting item so they would probably be better for him if he uses Dex, of for Kizzy so she's a little more accurate with her rapier. Since Kizzy already has a Charisma Headband, I think the Cloak of Charisma goes to Isa. One extra Channel a day never hurt anyone. Was Kizzy going to use that Keen Rapier we found? I don't see that she's claimed it on the sheet.
Xylian knew they should have brought their APC.
Feeling somewhat lightheaded, Xylian follows Amhesha's lead.
"Well, the map from the frognards proved to be accurate! After a short walk we met with two lovely ladies made of stone in an ancient ruin hardly a stones throw from the tower. Urlala and Illyrius, if I recall correctly. Immortal, it seems, They were nice enough, but only wished to talk of their goddess, Acavna, of whom they are heralds of some sort or other. Not of any immediate use to us, but perhaps discord will foster learning. That is what they hoped, anyways. I fear they've no interest in things that relate to us but, ahh, that is life sometimes." He fishes in his pocket for his smoking detritus and continues as he packs his pipe with tobacco. "And so we continued, promising that we would return to learn from them after rescuing our people. There were, uhh, metal bugs, of sorts, at the base of the tower we were investigating. I think Becky can tell you more about them." The sailor lights his pipe and takes a few slow puffs, exhaling smoke that rolls over the underside of his hats wide brim and rises into the sky, curling in odd ways before evaporating into the aether. "The tower proved to be filled with traps, false walls, and duplicitous fish people - cultists! Just... stading there, behind illusions, as if waiting for us. Do you think they had some kind of warning system?" He gestures with his pipe and reaches into another pocket for his flask. "Or do you suppose the deep ones just lived in those walls? Like... that is what they do all day. Exist within walls." Shaking his head, he takes a swig of cool mead from the flask and offers it around to whomever else desires some. "There was also a big, mean one. Ankha dealt with them, too. Then you had these two." The sailor gestures again at Rayland and the unconscious Eliza. "Their minds controlled by the Deep Ones, if you'll believe it! Reyland here seems to be little worse for the wear, but the jury is still out on Eliza." "There were two more ladies in the tower - these ones of metal - who maintained the place. Unlike the stone ladies, I believe the metal ones to be automatons of some description, but such things are well beyond my expertise. We have, seemingly, inherited the tower, by the by. Spindlelock Tower, they called it, used to manufacture ioun stones." He taps the burnt out ioun stone floating around his head with the tip of his pipe. "Owned by the Spindle Solution, a division of some Azlanti research group. Led by a chap named Albrust of Havenvine. An escaped elf prisoner form Celwynvian, doomsday from the sea." He sighs heavily, shaking his head again, then takes another long drag from his pipe. "I am not sure what, if anything, any of the azlanti have to do with our current predicament. These two don't know what the frogs wanted with them, there was no record of the frogs within the tower, the robot ladies knew nothing of the frogs. I am fearful we are no closer to answers than before. No idea where the other colonists are. The tower is in fine condition though, so there is that. I suppose we could attempt to manufacture our own ioun stones. There are some books on their research and a few manufacturing tools." His tone at the last part implies his doubt that they have any ioun stone manufacturing experts in the colony. "There was a water elemental, ostensibly a prisoner of the deep ones. Claimed it had been prisoner to them for centuries, made to operate their pumps, though I must admit I saw no such evidence of sprawling waterworks. Oh well. We let it free. I expect it resides in the ocean now." "I do believe Eliza needs an exorcist." Braxton says dryly. "Also..." He continues nervously. "Ahh... There's someone in the chapel Rayland needs to... uh... talk to. And not just the exorcist."
Happy holidays everybody! Thanks for running the game, GM of the Ruins =) If we have six weeks off I'm gonna have to refresh my knowledge on the building building downtime rules. Approx how many days will Braxton be able to dedicate to his tavern whilst still fulfilling his other duties to the colony? He's not very interested in the rock ladies beyond fostering good relations with them, but he can go along with Ankha to translate as needed.
Psshh. Only 30 applications. Surprised Kintargo GM is even bothering to respond at this point. Clearly no one is interested. @Ghorza: Forgot to say earlier, I like the idea of an axe (or pick, as it may be) wielding dwarf swashbucker. Certainly a unique idea :P
Xylian will scan for any cameras that may be accessible so they can get a lay of the land. Wireless Hack: Remote Hack (DC 24): You can use your custom rig to attempt Computers and Engineering skill checks at a range of 20 feet. At 7th level and every 2 levels thereafter, this range increases by 10 feet. A target of this ability (or a creature attending or observing your target) can attempt a Perception or Sense Motive check (DC = 10 + 1-1/2 × your mechanic level + your Intelligence modifier) to determine that you are the origin of this activity.
snippy snip Thanks! I wanted something different enough from the usual builds that it was worth doing but still mechanically functional. It's definitely on the lower end of the power scale, especially when combining two-weapon fighting with the Vigilantes complete and utter lack of any way to boost accuracy, but it should be functional enough to serve for the game. I suppose the build does have an indirect accuracy boost via Steel Soldier at level 8, letting the Raven enchant both his gauntlets by paying the much cheaper cost to enchant his armor. I'm contemplating taking EWP: Elven curve Blade at level 1 instead of weapon focus - ECB + EITR + Lethal Grace is super solid all on its own and comes online at level 2- then continuing the build more-or-less as planned and retraining and switching to gauntlets around level six when it actually kicks off, and I may do that if chosen depending on the party, but I really hate the idea of just switching weapons half way through for no discernable story reason lol. I did think about the enforcer archetype as well as the teisatsu, Alexius did spend eighteen months in Tian Xia, but the Raven starting the game as chaotic good is non negotiable so that knocks out the enforcer, and teisatsu really only enables a shuriken build which, while cool, isn't really what I want to do with this guy. I also contemplated zealot, since it gets full inquisitor casting and the inquisitor spells have much needed accuracy boosters, but the Raven is an athiest so that wouldn't work either. If you were more flexible on the character story side of things than I am, I think Zealot would be the better way to go for this build, since it keeps the 2nd and 6th level Vigilante Talents to get Lethal Grace and Fist of the Avenger on top of spells like Divine Favor. I did put some effort into creating a build that I thought was different but still worked, so I appreciate your kind words =)
I submit the Raven! He's a little changed from last time. Since it's not 25PB, I moved the Charisma he used to have into Int because I'm a skill point addict, and took two traits to get INT to Diplomacy and Bluff. I took the Empty Mask Drawback. It makes sense, right? There are a few other drawbacks that would fit the character, if a different one seems more appropriate. With the 200 GP item from Child of Kintargo Trait I got Concealable Thieves' Tools (190 GP) The Raven:
==========Fallen From Grace========== is a relatively unimportant younger cousin of house Vashnarstill. Born and raised in Kintargo, he was destined to join the military and fulfill his noble family’s obligation to provide knights to the queen a certain number of months each year. Like all noble sons, he was trained in scholarly topics as well as martial arts, military strategy and so on. The boy was particularly adept at dueling with falcata and buckler in the manner of the Taldans and quickly found himself a rising star in the regions dueling circles. He attended – and won – many dueling tournaments, rubbing shoulders with prominent military leaders and royalty. It was just after one such tournament when the fates changed for Alexius. Returning to the family estate alone after taking first place, Alexius was set upon by three assassins, likely hired by a rival duelist from another noble family. Alexius was able to fight off, but not kill, the assassins, but not before receiving a grievous leg wound. The blade the assassin used must have been cursed, for despite having the wound healed with divine magic, not leaving so much as a scar behind, the young duelist was left with a prominent limp. Not even eighteen months at a healing monastery atop the Kullan Dei mountains in Tian Xia helped. Alexius’ military future was over before it had begun. Everything he had been training for was gone. His mother was not too displeased that her son would not be going off to war, but Alexius was. His attitude quickly turned dour and he turned to drink to ease his emotional and physical pain. He had no interest in following his family members into politics or business and spent the nights drinking and womanizing and the days sleeping. At least now he had something in common with the head of the household, Sendi. His family could only bear his loud, drunken rants for so long and they eventually built a small, single room cottage in a secluded corner of their property for him. His affinity for corvidae led to the family calling the cottage the Rookery'. The increased privacy seemed to suit him, and he spent years partying the nights away. The closest thing to friends Alexius could be said to have were other bored young noble men and women. They would gather to discuss banned topics and consume forbidden literature, always talking of how much better they could run the city if they were in charge. None of them meant any of it. Those spoiled nobles would be the last to do anything to jeopardize their lives of luxury and excess. While the higher ranking nobility certainly did not approve of these secret meetings (that everyone in the city knew about) there was nothing the royal family could do to stop them without angering many of the noble families that the crown needed to maintain control of the city and the region. Reason to Protest: Protest the Government! The hellish, Orwellian (he exists, right?), soul-crushing curfew placed by the new regime has Alexius’ social life. While he never drank tea before or after sunset, no one tells him what he can drink or when. Alexius Vashnarstill is a young chelaxian noble and he looks the part, his preferred outfit tending to draw the eye - an exotic costume he picked up on one of his oversea trips in his youth. He is tall and slender with trimmed brown hair and sideburns, brown eyes, and usually more than a couple days stubble. He wears black, fitted silk trousers and shirt, black calfskin gloves, a red velvet waistcoat, a high collared black longcoat and a tall top hat. The unusually tall hat and long, narrow coat exaggerate his height and slims his figure, lending him a somewhat unnatural look. He walks with a prominent limp and utilizes a fashionable cane, the silver head styled to look like a ravens beak. He is loud, brash, and selfish, with little patience for anyone but himself. Most nights he can be found closing bars or in bed with some lesser noble’s wife or daughter. He shows no drive or desire to accomplish anything with his life or improve himself in any way. ==========Hatchlings========== Like all children, especially the children of the affluent, Alexius always sought to rebel against his parents and society in general. He never felt much of an attachment to the other noble children and would oft ditch his chauffeurs to go exploring the city on his own, a brief respite against the boredom of endless classes on royal lineage and naval tactics. Already familiar with the high-walled gardens, well-kept estates, and fancy shops of the upper district, he began to roam further afield, to the lower districts his family rarely visited. One day, around the age of eight, he found himself in the Devil's Nursery: the slums on the southeastern corner of Kintargo where the tieflings and other undesirables resided. Initially, young Alexius was attracted by the colorful scales and horns the tieflings sported, though in the Nursery he was the one that stood out in his fine clothing. Most of the adults gave him a wide berth, not wanting to get tangled up in noble business. The noble child found himself drawn to a group of tiefling children dressed particularly flamboyantly, outfits fashioned after the dress of pirates and swashbucklers. Or at least what pirates and swashbucklers dress like in the minds of children. On first approach, the children lead Alexius into an dilapidated alley. They were intent on robbing the young noble, but the boy - years into his battlefield training at this point - recognized the oncoming ambush and, using a combination of his training and sheer size, managed to outwit and outfight the urchins. Alexius was intrigued by the lifestyle of the tiefling gang. He was aware that people often resorted to robbery to sustain themselves, but had never known any such persons in his personal life. It sounded more interesting than classes on heraldic banners. Alexius joined the gang, who called themselves the Hatchlings, and entered into their informal tutelage. The lives of the Hatchlings was the opposite of his own life of privilege. They were concerned with where their next meal was coming from, rather than grand political schemes. General Steelbeard taught Alexius to face opponents as equals on the open field or in the arena, to use falcata and buckler to cut down threats to the crown. The Hatchlings taught him that a well placed kick from the shadows will down an unsuspecting opponent with ease. Alexius' mother, Lady Elaida Vashnarstill, taught him of logistics and trade routes. The Hatchlings taught him to disable wagons in claustrophobic alleys, making them ripe for plundering. Sir Hawthorne taught Alexius to be chivalrous and honorable. The Hatchlings taught him to pick pockets and cut purses. Instead of marching forth, heraldry held high, the Hatchlings kept to the rooftops, their cloven hooves adepts at climbing the imperfect walls. Of course, Alexius engaged in larceny and burglary for the thrill of it, while the Hatchlings stole to survive. Despite the seemingly duplicitous nature of the tiefling gang, over the years Alexius found them to be better friends than the lords and ladies of the courts and far more honorable than most 'honest' businessmen. Beyond the Hatchlings, the denizens of the slums seemed to genuinely care for each other, where his peers in the upper city only cared about what one could do for them. He grew particularly close to an aiuvarin tiefling girl a bit younger than himself, Mythryssia Valxses. Mythryssia was feisty and temperamental, the opposite of the lordly gentleman Alexius was supposed to embody. As the years went by, fondness turned to youthful romance. Alexius only once mentioned 'rescuing' the proud tiefling girl from poverty. Such talked turned out to be a huge mistake, as Mythryssia aggressively did not need anyone to save her, and it took some time for the young man to get back on her good side, the gift of a simple but fine silver pendant of a raven helping him win her back over. Mythryssia played the helpless waif well, easily able to fool marks into looking left while the Hatchlings went right. She was in fact a naturally gifted actress and singer. Skilled enough that joining the opera was not an unrealistic aspiration, barring systemic racism against tieflings. She got some local attention performing in small, no-budget plays, but there was no future for her in Cheliax, which she and Alexius could both see. After many tears and arguments, Mythryssia finally accepted Alexius' offer to help, specifically to find her a patron - likely in Absalom - that could grant the aspiring actress access to the schools and opportunities she needed to have a chance at success without the oppression tieflings faced most anywhere else. Correspondence with various artist-promoting houses in Absalom went well, until Alexius - then seventeen years old - finally received a response from one lady Hightower, who was interested enough to want to meet Mythryssia and had extended an eager invitation for the girl to visit her in Absalom. The letter had been delivered to him on the Vashnarstill estate. Reading it filled him equally with melancholy and hope. Alexius' place was in Kintargo. As much as the idea of sending her away hurt him, he wanted Mythryssia to be happy, safe, and free more than he wanted her for himself. With trembling hands, he stowed the letter safely in an inset coat pocket and left the manor. He did not travel straight to the Nursery, his route instead plodding and winding this way and that throughout the city as he wandered almost aimlessly, trying to forestall the inevitable delivery of the letter that would take Mythryssia. He finally passed into the oddly comforting walls of the Devil's Nursery as the sun began to set, the city walls casting the entire place in shadow. None of the usual suspects had seen Mythryssia for a few hours, and she was not at her home with her parents. It was not unusual for the children of the Nursery, especially the Hatchlings, to disappear for hours or even a few days as they pursued their own goals, so Alexius was not overly worried. But as darkness fell and the night drew on, his worry grew, some unexplained voice whispering in the back of his mind that something was wrong. Increasingly panicked, he roused the Hatchlings that he could find, much to their collective annoyance, to help him search for her. They looked through the night with no luck. As dawn was breaking over the city, a scream from one of the Hatchlings marked the end of their search. Behind rotted crates in a dead end alley, they found Mythryssia. Brutally murdered, her only substantial possession, the silver raven pendant, gone. Nobody cared about one more dead tiefling. Even Alexius' mother, sympathetic - heartbroken for her son, even - though she was, was firmly dutybound to the family, and had never approved of his infatuation with the distracting tieflings. Despite his position of nobility, no amount of rage or bribery could convince local law enforcement or government to investigate, and his assertions that he suspected the murderer to be a hellknight were openly ignored. The nobility simply clucked their tongues and encouraged him to turn his focus back to his military studies where it belonged which, seemingly, Alexius eventually did. Alexius had grown up in two worlds. He did not enjoy his destiny as a warrior and diplomat, but the privilege was nice and he was good at it. His escapades with the Hatchlings were fun, but were not building up to anything meaningful. With the loss of Mythryssia, the needs of the Vashnarstills and the Crown didn't seem to matter anymore. Alexius Vashnarstill is dead. ==========The Raven========== stood on the city wall south of the Devil’s Nursery, gazing into the slums below him. He was an intimidating figure: steel breastplate over thick, knee length gambeson; sturdy knee-high leather boots and matching leather gauntlets; a ragged, hooded cloak that almost touched the ground and concealed his head. But that was not why they called him the Raven. A macabre steel mask shaped like a raven’s beak protruded from the hood and obscured his face. Large, flat glass eyes granting vision while protecting the face from harmful vapors or liquids. A hulking, brutal pugilist, blood dripping from the spikes of his black gauntlets. A Hellknight lay groaning and bleeding on the walkway behind the parapet on which the imposing figure stood. The Thrune dog rolled onto her back, the pool of blood rapidly spreading beneath her. ”You can’t just… let me die.” she gurgles, coughing up blood. The Raven turns his head to look from the slums to the dying soldier. ”I can’t?” he asks in a thick elven accent. He turns and drops to the walkway, squatting next to the woman, bringing up a gauntleted hand to tap the side of the beak covering his face. ”They say this is worn by doctors in some places. Doctors! I do consider myself a doctor…” He says, his voice casual and unconcerned. A dagger, the handle of which was intricately carved to resemble a large black feather, protruded from the woman’s stomach. The Raven grasped the dagger and pulled it free of the woman’s flesh and armor, increasing her blood loss and hastening her death. ”But not that kind of doctor.” He hisses as he lowers his beaked face near to the woman’s ear, his voice trembling with rage and hate. ”You pay for your crimes against that poor tiefling with your life.” The woman’s eyes flash with confusion – no doubt she could not differentiate one tiefling she had brutalized from another – and then the light goes out of her eyes as the life leaves her body. Suddenly overcome with weariness, he sits back on the parapet, dangling his legs over the slums, and sighs, rubbing his face through the steel mask he wore. How long can I keep doing this? What is it going to change. His actions had had effects on the new Thrune regime, but it was too little. Too slow. The impoverished people of Kintargo were little more than slaves, and that isn’t even to mention the literal slaves. He was only one man. He stands, glancing back at the woman for a final time to ensure she was dead. ”I need some friends. A lot of friends.” Stats:
==================== Male human (Chelaxian) vigilante 1 CG Medium humanoid (human(?)) Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +4 (+6 while benefit from concealment or full concealment due to darkness or dim light) -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 19, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+6 armor, +3 Dex) hp 10 (1d8+2) Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +2 (-1 penalty vs. compulsions, or -2 if they know your true identity) -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. (20 ft. in armor) Melee dagger +4 (1d4+2/19-20) or . . dagger +4 (1d4+2/19-20) or . . spiked gauntlet +5 (1d4+2) or . . spiked gauntlet +5 (1d4+2) -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 14, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 8 Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 16 Feats Agile Maneuvers, Combat Expertise, Deadly Aim, Noble Scion of Vashnarstill, Power Attack, Weapon Focus Traits child of kintargo, clever wordplay, cunning liar (any city) Skills Acrobatics +3 (-1 to jump), Bluff +6, Climb +2, Diplomacy +6 (+10 when in your social identity), Disable Device +5, Disguise +3 (+23 to appear as part of polite society while in your social identity), Intimidate -1 (+1 while benefit from concealment or full concealment due to darkness or dim light), Knowledge (local) +7, Knowledge (nobility) +10, Linguistics +3, Perception +4 (+6 while benefit from concealment or full concealment due to darkness or dim light), Stealth -1 (+1 while benefit from concealment or full concealment due to darkness or dim light), Swim +2 Languages Common, Elven, Infernal, Tengu SQ dimdweller, dual identity, empty mask, finesse weapon attack attribute, social grace, social talent (social grace), vigilante specialization (avenger) Other Gear breastplate, dagger, dagger, spiked gauntlet, spiked gauntlet, concealable thieves' tools, wrist sheath, spring loaded (2), 21 gp -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Agile Maneuvers Use DEX instead of STR for CMB Combat Expertise +/-1 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack. Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white only). Deadly Aim -1/+2 Trade a penalty to ranged attacks for a bonus to ranged damage. Dimdweller +2 to Intimidate, Perception, and Stealth when in conceal due to darkness. Dual Identity (Ex) Each identity maintains own alignment, can switch over 1 min. Magical means treat an ID as non existant while not adopted. Empty Mask -1 to Will saves vs. compulsion, or -2 vs. those knowing your true identity. Finesse Weapon Attack Attribute Finesse weapons use Dexterity on attack rolls. Noble Scion of Vashnarstill You are a member of a proud noble family. Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage. Social Grace (Diplomacy) +4 circumstance bonus to selected skill while in your social identity. Weapon Focus (Close Weapons) +1 Attack. ====================
Possible Build: I'm somewhat tempted to take the Psychometrist archetype, it would ultimately be stronger and more interesting and varied, but he would do, like, no damage until about level six so that's probably not viable lol. Level 1 (Avenger Vigilante) - FCB: +1 SP; Feat: Noble Scion: Vashnarstill; Human Feat: Weapon Focus (Close); Social Talent: Social Grace (Diplomacy)
I was in the first game. Kintargo GM is an exceptional GM. If you're looking for an RP heavy game with a very attentive GM you def want to check this out.
Not often is Xylian the assistant...
The dead skum leader holds a finely crafted fauchard that detects as magical under inspection Nooooo don't let Ankha get too powerful or we won't be able to stop her
From his superior position on the raised bridge, Xlyian levels his cannon at the southernmost zombie and opens fire.
Casting a wary glance at the strange man, Braxton leaves him to Anka and rushes to Becky's side, leaving his rapier to clatter to the floor. Scooping up the girl in his arms, he uses the last of his substantial magics to heal her. "Cmon... cmon..."
Braxton contributes nothing! His heart skips and icy beat as Becky falls. Torn betwixt the teen and the two mind controlled hostiles, he has no good options. If the two prisoners are mind controlled, he does not want to kill them, but the situations has become extremely dangerous. Much as he wants to help Becky, he opts to go after the spellcaster and desperately hope Becky can hang on for a few more moments. He is unsure what the man is going to do, and he can only anticipate an attack from the man as he lunges past him to try and nonlethally punch the woman prisoner with the basket hilt of his rapier. I dunno whats going on with this guy, so I assume he's gonna AoO Braxton as he moves, so here's a parry in case:
Opportune Parry and Riposte (Ex): At 1st level, when an opponent makes a melee attack against the swashbuckler, she can spend 1 panache point and expend a use of an attack of opportunity to attempt to parry that attack. The swashbuckler makes an attack roll as if she were making an attack of opportunity; for each size category the attacking creature is larger than the swashbuckler, the swashbuckler takes a –2 penalty on this roll. If her result is greater than the attacking creature’s result, the creature’s attack automatically misses. The swashbuckler must declare the use of this ability after the creature’s attack is announced, but before its attack roll is made. Upon performing a successful parry and if she has at least 1 panache point, the swashbuckler can as an immediate action make an attack against the creature whose attack she parried, provided that creature is within her reach. This deed’s cost cannot be reduced by any ability or effect that reduces the number of panache points a deed costs.
Xylian clambers off of the tracks and up onto the platform. So distracted is the occupier by the sudden appearance of a bear, they do not see the chunk of ice hurtling at the back of their head.
With 8 Polyfluid and 5500 UBPs we can make a Mark V Havoc Charge for 7210. It looks like multiple charges provide a bonus, so there's no reason not to use eveything to ensure the tunnel is destroyed I guess. Never used the Demolition rules before, so it would be 1 primary and 3 secondary charges. We also picked up a Laser Drill back in book 1 and it looks like that helps with Demolitions as well. Does that sound good to everyone?
~~ Are there schematics for the rail available? ~~ Xylian muses, flicking through the plans from the aline ledy. ~~ One of the warheads from the ship could be repurposed to destroy a main pylon. There are more subtle ways to disable the magtrains, ~~ He glances at the sneaky Zharis, ~~ But total destruction would be more difficult to come back from, and would send a message both to the occupiers and the resistance. ~~
I WANNA BLOW UP A TRAIN XYLIAN BOUGHT NUKES AND HE'S GONNA USE EM
~~ Why start with the interior of a star? Do you have powerful weapons here? ~~
"Doctor Coldforge, come look at these." Xylian awaits at the vehicles. "No external controls. Do you think they are telepathically controlled?"
Was the dinosaur a native to the star, or was it brought here intentionally from the outside? Both possibilities are equally intriguing. Xylian looks for a powered-armor-sized motorcycle, but examines the other vehicles as well. "A short-range transport that can fly below the flak cannons would be useful."
Noice crit T =) Glad someone finally decided to hit the dino
"Hm. Nice digs. I would never use this much white, though. Too much cleaning." Braxton says, almost approvingly, as he peeks into the tower. "This could be repurposed, eventually. Maybe a lighthouse. But let us not be overwhelmed by the grandeur. Let us remained whelmed and assume something unpleasant is waiting for us." Rapier at the ready, he takes a tentative step into the structure.
"Something large broke out from the inside? Odd time to be transporting a dangerous animal." The damai notes. Luckily his armor is mostly animal proof. "We should chec the shuttles computers for intel."
Xylian gives Taeress their away team's physical dimensions to relay to Zhyffor to ensure the vehicle will fit everyone. A shame he cannot use the bike in his powered armor.
Xylian continues his journey to Zharis.
While pretty, the symbology of the altar is lost on the sailor unless it has anything to do with constellations or tides. Braxton's is only slightly startled when the statues move, though, since they have already been ambushed by azlanti message leaving systems before. "Well they're speaking azlanti, but they cannot be azlantians since they're not covering their faces like cowards!" Braxton bitterly spits in common. "They're warning us. Say this is a holy site, and something about a broken accord. I believe accords are a type of vehicle. They expect us to play nice, but I don't take orders from despots." Rapier in one han, he sizes up the statues, then adds in azlanti, "Can you two at least talk back, unlike the other mindless azlanti messengers we've met?"
Xylian braces, his ice cannon sapping heat from the surrounding area and creating a hazy, cold mist around him. With a loud cracking sound, the cannon sends another jagged chunk of supercooled ice at the elemental.
Xylian abides, lining has cannon up to shoot whatever elemental next comes around the corner.
Xylian fiddles with the left gauntlet of his power armor as he waits to hear from Zharis or Theodore. The joints of the expertly crafted heavy armor make hardly a whir of sound as they articulate. "Tulgram... did you take my 'Screams from the Abyss' album?"
The lookout took at least two shots from Amhesha and is now tangling with a bear. Too slow in his armor to engage in a footrace, Xylian leaves the scout to the bear, stomping over to the front door of the facility and awaiting instructions VIA radio from Zharis.
This guy was chillin' watchin' netflix and now there's a bear climbing his tower.
Theo quits pretending to be unintelligent, but stays on all fours for a scramble to the base of the tower, then keeps moving, climbing paw over paw straight up the sid
Xylian climbs down from the bridge, icy cannon resting on his shoulder. He is unsure why the others did not store the prisoner in one of the stasis pods, but he also does not really care. He approaches the large set of custom made powered armor - optimized to deflect high level radiation - sitting in its stand in a corner of the cargo bay. A tube connects to the armors back, feeding coolant directly from the ship into the armor, leaving the armor covered in a layer of frost. He unshoulders his hailcannon, leaning it against the bulkhead and starts entering his two hundred and fifty-six character password. "I will be a moment." He says in monotone. "I will catch up."
"Ah, well. This is awkward." Braxton says. He gathers a few things from Blaudon, namely his artificial gills and goggles. "My pokey rapier will be more useful in an underwater tunnel than a fauchard, so I'll go first. Hopefully there is merely an entrance to an above-water tunnel or cave system, and we won't actually have to go for a swim." He sets his dull, grey ioun stone to orbiting his head, dons the backpack-like gills, doffs his hat in favor of the goggles, and sheathes his rapier and buckler. He also kicks off his boots. Sits on the edge of the well and lifts his legs over the precipice, grabbing onto the rope. "You know what they say. Fortune favors the... How is there a freshwater well so close to the ocean?" Onward.
Xylian is ready on the controls, both for the ship and the nuclear warheads. "I doubt these ones will be any more forthcoming than... anyone else we have met."
Once things have settled down, Braxton approaches Becky. Ankha did not seem to understand his concerns, and, while he has no authority over the young lady, he feels it is his responsibility to at least caution her. "Hey, I really appreciate your help with that corn... thing," he says, his tone noncommittal and aloof as usual. "You've got some serious guts. Most people wouldn't run into a cloud of red dust with hitherto unknown skin-melting capabilities." It was an impressive act from the girl, regardless. "I just want to make sure you grasp just how dicey things can get, especially in places like this. Trust me, I've danced with danger on the edge of the maps more times than I can count, and things don't always turn out alright. Just, you know, keep your head on straight and be careful, okay? You don't want one reckless step to capsize the boat."
The discovery of the Azlanti artifact is useless. The tyrant wasn't showing its face, so Braxton, who is ostensibly Azlanti himself, could not even determine if he looked Azlanti. The existence of the still-functioning artifact is probably of interest to the historians in the group, but it does nothing for Braxton. The mystery of the missing colonists also goes unanswered, maddeningly. For now, he does what he can to settle into colony life. The colony, as they found it, was quite defensible, and he encourages their leader, Ramona, to put initial focus on completing the wall that partially circles the heart of the village, since they still don't know what they're facing. He avails himself to their leader when needed to grow relations with their new, scaled neighbors. In spite of everything, the start is undeniably positive, with most stepping up to help where and when needed. The veteran sailor is well familiar with logistics, so he spends much of his time assisting in the establishment and organization of the supply stores. Ultimately, he will need to find a patch of land to claim to advance his own personal goals. Somewhere with clean water, wildflowers, and lots of bees, to build his meadery. To that end, he continues to build rapport with those who can help, particularly mapmaker Lyra Heatherly, as well as those with inclinations towards lumber and carpentry. For some reason, blessed by the Lucky Drunk, Braxton can turn water into ale and mead now. As he explained to Ankha, it isn't great quality, but he has some better stuff he purchased from Absalom. Those stores won't last forever, but he makes sure to offer Lyra some of the good stuff whenever she returns to the village. He allows Blaudon to be used for general mule-related tasks when he doesn't need the animal to haul things for himself.
Since current suites of piloting and navigational software are hitherto unaccustomed to the constantly changing density of the superheated plasma, Xylian spends much of his time monitoring, planning, and correcting their route through the star. When he is not in the pilots seat, he studies the star. Most would struggle to comprehend the vast forces at play within the star, but not Xylian's important scientist brain. When he's on watch duty he, as usual, plays extremely loud music, the playback speed of each song accelerated (or reduced, as the case may be), to exactly 500 beats per minute. Since he mostly listens to metal, the songs sound like unintelligible shrieking to all but the Xylian-est of minds.
"There seems to be a fundamental misunderstanding about the nature of spatial mechanics at play here. One cannot simply 'turn left' in space as one might do when driving a terrestrial vehicle. Space, being a vast, three-dimensional expanse, lacks the conventional frames of reference that would make such a maneuver meaningful." He gestures towards the stars plasma through the cockpit window, his tone dull. " Our ship is currently following a vector, a straight-line path determined by our current velocity and trajectory. To alter our course effectively, I need to engage our thrusters in a calculated manner. This involves firing our lateral thrusters to change our orientation while simultaneously using our main engines to adjust our velocity vector. Merely rotating the ship leftward will not suffice; we must also account for our current inertia and apply the necessary force to achieve the desired trajectory adjustment. Imagine, if you will, that our ship is an ice skater on a frictionless rink. Telling the skater to 'turn left' without providing a means to change their momentum is akin to asking them to pirouette on the spot. They would spin, yes, but their overall direction would remain unchanged. To move leftward, they must push off with one leg, redirecting their motion in a new vector while maintaining balance and control." He tilts his head, contemplating for a moment, then adds "I do appreciate the succinctness of your command, however."
"Spoken like someone who has never watched a greenhorn be washed overboard and disappear beneath the waves because they were to young and inexperienced to understand the risk they were taking!" Braxton says, frustrated. "Just because someone is willing, even eager, to rush into danger does not mean they are qualified. Often the first to rush into danger is the least qualified! And that goes double for young people. Have you even asked her what training she has?" The sailor shakes his head and turns away, sighing, hands on his hips. He dismisses Ankha with a wave of his hand. Often in this world it is seen that the best way to surmount a problem is to throw young blood at it. Not a position Braxton holds. And obviously not one Ankha holds, the alchemist is just excited to have someone else to talk about theories and formulae, Braxton surmises. He'll just have to keep an eye on the pair, since the two young, scientifically minded ladies obviously share a singular braincell.
Coil of silk rope in one hand, Blaudon's lead in the other, Braxton approaches the edge of the nearest sand pit. "The important thing is to stay calm, good chap!" He calls to the trapped man. "I'm lead to believe struggling will only hasten your sinking!" Neither his tone nor his bodylanguage imply panic or rush. He pats the mule on the nose to stop the beast, then drops the coil of silk rope on the ground next to him. Not a good way to treat good rope, but it is a lot of rope. He keeps hold of one end of the rope - the end with the grappling hook attached, and begins swinging it in a clockwise fashion with one hand, roughly a fathom of loose silk held between the two hands, trailing down to the coil collected at his feet.
Xylian does not involve himself in the drama with the spy and Nib and Taeress in favor of overseeing the upgrades to the Sundiver. The trap would not have remained hidden to the somewhat obsessive damai - just like the damage to the ship the upgrades, easily sussed out and handled - anyways, but at least now they don't have to execute a saboteur mid-sun. He is limited by the small frame of the ship, but upgrades the main computer and power core. He leaves the weapon loadout as Jin had and upgrades the ablative armor, so the agile Sundiver continues to be a short-range brawler. It seems to have worked so far. He switches the spore launcher out for nuclear warhead torpedoes just because he can and installs an uplink that will interface with his datajack and allow him and his exocortex to pilot the ship and operate the guns at the same time, freeing up Amhesha to do chief engineer things if needed. The additional personnel seem unnecessary, but personnel is Zharis' domain.
Sensitive System Balance: The Sun Diver’s systems work in delicate concert, making any adjustment of the ship’s systems risky. Each time the Sun Diver is refitted or upgraded with new systems, the vessel takes 5d10–20 virtual damage that can also cause critical damage. Detecting this “damage” requires a successful Engineering check (DC = 15 + 1-1/2 times the Sun Diver’s tier). When detected, this virtual damage can be repaired as if it were real, signifying rebalancing the Sun Diver’s sensitive systems. If undetected, the damage and critical damage becomes real the next time the vessel enters a stressful situation, such as starship combat. In addition, when the Sun Diver takes critical damage in starship combat, it has a 10% chance to take critical damage a second time in a random system.
We're still limited by our Small frame, so there's a few things we still have the 'best' we can get. Left the chain guns and flak throwers, changed the spore launcher to a nuke launcher... literally just because. We already have the best thrusters we can use. Got the best power core we can fit and upgraded the computer so we have three +3 bonuses to combat checks each round. Added a consciousness uplink drive so Xylian can pilot and shoot; I think Xylian has the highest attack and piloting mod, so best to get him on the guns I think. I know there's more interesting things that could be added, but we mostly use the Sundiver as a taxi, so maybe save the cooler stuffs for a ship-focused game... HERE should be a working link for the ship. I'm open to suggestions if there's other things people want =) Also, remember everyone gets an extra 2k credits from the degenerate gambling den!
Welcome to the party, glad to have you =)
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