Tita at first believes Frankie, wondering why the Captain would leave her door locked...
...but then spots him slipping his tool back up his sleeves. When they step into the office Tita whispers, "Oi now, that's a sleek trick. Almost slipped by me, and not much slips past Tita."
Tita walks over to the bookshelf, perusing her selection and looking for anything that some might call "debaucherous." "Could ya imagine how embarrassed Fart-Breath'll be if I find her naughty books?"
Nan catches up with the group, joining them at the drawings. "If we head to the Almsman, I'm sure they might appreciate a little food in their belly." Nan smiles a motherly smile; it seems like cooking and taking care of people is her first love, and smashing things with frying pans her second.
Wetbeard gives the old man a reassuring pat on the back, asking him a final Al question after the rest of the group has headed across the street. "I don't think it 'ave much to do with the missing lads, but 'ave ye heard any rumblings 'bout insects 'round town? Anyone come in needin' new clothes after any incidents? Ye might be surprised, the smallest clue can 'elp." After the man answers, Wetbeard joins his companions across the way. . . .
Wetbeard joins in on the tail end of Drummady's speech, catching immediately to her distress. "Aye miss, take a wee breath. I understan' ye be worried sick. I know what it be like to fear for someone ye love." Wetbeard pauses a moment, admiring the shoes. "Ye do beautiful work here. I been to some o' the finest ports around the world, and ne'er seen craftsmanship like this." Wetbeard's voice is cool and calm, and it's clear he's making an effort to calm the woman down, giving her a comfortable space to breathe.
Wetbeard whispers back to Castiel. "Aye, but I'll need something to work with. Best to settle the man down first." Wetbeard enters the room, eyeing up the sobbing man. With a sigh he approaches, beginning to pick up some of the fabric and move it to the counter. "Ye must be Petrello." Wetbeard continues cleaning the shop as he speaks, organizing the fabric and buttons into neat little piles. "And that means ye be the one who Betrona needs to come home to. Now listen lad." Wetbeard pauses his routine to kneel in front of the man, looking him at eye level. The poor fellow looks ready to die from grief. "Ye must know why we're here. We're here to get the lads and lasses back, and that means any help ye can offer, be help to Betrona." Wetbeard stands and offers his hand down to the man. "Come on now, up and at 'em. What say we make a difference, eh?"
"Aye!!" Wetbeard's voice bellows out as he waves at Alcie. "A good burnin' in the belly can be good for an adventurer." When the drink is offered he takes long gulps, chugging the beverage down.
He slams the tankard down with a satisfied sigh, leaning back in his seat. "Ya ale tastes different in these parts, goes down smooth and bites ya in the gut." He grins and passes her the empty mug. "I like it." He moves quickly to his food, tearing into it like he hasn't eaten in days. He occasionally slips some into his tentacles to Wanda, or passes a piece to Sprout. When Fizzlebotham isn't watching he flicks a few pieces of food at Kibbles, chuckling when the bread bounces off the pup's nose. After all his food and drink is finished, he passes his dishes to Alcie, giving a nod of thanks. "Miss Alcie, to get down to business, 'ave ya heard anything 'bout missing apprentices? They say a tavern is the 'eart of any town, and if there's information it must be here, eh?" He reaches into the pockets of his stained coat, retrieving the letter from Mayor Trinelli. "Ol' Sandra has assigned us to 'elping out some o' those poor lads, and I intend to see it through. She's offerin' rewards to anyone that'll pitch in." He passes the letter to Alcie, letting her look over it. "Any information, or advice on what folks be having information, is what we need."
Justice maintains his current position, attempting to shield those behind himself. As he prepares his next assault, he tries to think if he knows anything about his foes.
Of course! There's one piece knowledge I nearly forgot!
He swings his Greatsword up to the foe on front of him, than brings it back down with all his might. "I AM JUSTICE FLAME, VANQUISHER OF EVIL!!"
Wetbeard chuckles, a motion that causes his feelers to bounce happily. "Ye wound me Maj, I'm more refined than that." Wetbeard lifts his hands up, pulling his feelers apart to reveal the face that lies beneath, its eyes snapping open to look around. "She's a might treat to look at eh? Her name's Wanda." He closes his tentacles, hiding her from sight again. "She's good a good nose on her, you'd be surprised how well she can track. Something to go off could make tracking ol' Gelly much easier."
"And what of me, Miss Dralneen? Don't I just look scrumptious?" Choosing to stand rather than soil her pristine velvet chairs, a beast of a Half-Orc grins at Zarta from across the room. The skin of his powerful frame is gray and rubbery like an eel's, and his heavy boots plod with loud *THUDS* when he crosses the room to admire her collection of literature. Beneath his chin a squirming, writhing mass of small tentacles swings with each step, creating a beard of twisting flesh. "A lecherous collection of books fit only for depraved souls." He smiles, his feelers curling slightly in tandem. "Perfect for ol' Wetbeard." His cerulean hide armor is adorned with various bits and bobs collected throughout his travels, mostly small colored stones, feathers, shells, and pieces of dyed metal. Over his armor he wears an outfit similar to those of sailors, with heavy azure pants tucked into tall beige boots and a long, olive, open-faced coat around his body. Completing the ensemble is a brown, weathered tricorn hat sitting atop his head like a crown jewel. Across his back a wickedly sharp Falchion rests, and strapped to his side a large quiver housing a handful of small, thin spears gently sways. The pirate walks over to the table where the tea is offered, picking up the small cup with tender care. "Ya thirsty girl?" His question at first seems directed at no one, but from underneath his armor a bulging, melon-sized growth of flesh travels from inside his clothes and up to his exposed chest. As the bulbous tumor comes to a stop, a pair of sickly yellow eyes opens up from it, darting wildly around the room. Wetbeard grumbles out, "C'mon lass, open up," and on command the lump opens up, revealing rows of small, gnarled teeth. Wetbeard empties the contents of his teacup into her mouth before giving her a loving pat and shooing her back into his armor."Alright now Wanda, back to bed. Don't want to scare our new friends too bad now." After the bizarre display, Wetbeard returns to his spot in the room, still grinning at Zarta. "The name's Wetbeard, Miss Dralneen. The pleasure is mine."
Shouldn't at least some of those attacks be secondary, so they get -5 to hit? I admit, I've never played with a Summoner, so I might just be misreading the rules... Slams and Claws are all Primary, as long as no Manufactured weapons are being used.
Player: Levi
'Ello everyone, I'll be bringing my Bloodrager here, Wetbeard the Pirate! I'll probably wait until the gameplay tab opens up and expand on appearance and personality in character, but he's a frontline fighter for sure. grumble:
Now I just need to afford armor... Also, Fizzle. Nice exchange with Rögna in the lodge, it was fun!
A tall, feathered being walks into the lodge with an unnerving doll of a human child held in its arms, her small body is decorated in a frilly dress, and her face is partially covered by a wide-brimmed, fancifully adorned hat. The creature's face is hidden behind a mask which covers its head entirely, the helm appearing to be clean white marble fashioned in the image of an Ox Skull. Its empty eye sockets scan across the bars inhabitants, robes covering the rest of its body as it steps heavily into across the floor, cradling its toy with care. Perception DC 26:
On closer inspection, it appears not to be a doll at all, but rather a halfling girl standing perfectly still in the creature's arms. "Greetings. A water, please."
@Tita: At the top of this page is a link to the "Kit for New PbP GMs". The Welcome to Pathfinder boon can be found there, but needs to be signed by a GM--just ask whoever is running your current or next game. Thanks for the help, I think I got it! Can I ask what the progression speed is though? Between choosing slow and normal, is that the player's choice and if so, how does it work? Sorry for the bombardment of questions, after over a decade of Homebrew only, fast and loose GMs the organization of it all is exciting.
Thank you for the feedback, I've already adjusted several things on the posts/PMs I've received! As for the linking, Paizo PRD was my original choice but I often find myself unable to find what I'm looking for on the PRD, despite it being easily found in other places. As I'm using these as more of a quick reference for my GMs as opposed to citing them as official rules, I figured it was an alright alternative.
Actually, let's see what we can do with that at level 13. Human Level 1-11 as Brawler, 12-13 as Siegebreaker Traits: Snowstrider, Bred For War Feats:
20 (26) STR
Gear, using wealth by level table.
Attack - 13(BAB)+8(STR)+4(AoMF)+2(Brawling)-3(Power Attack, +24 Damage - 1d8+8(STR)+4(AoMF)+2(Brawling)+6(Power Attack), +20 Siegebreaker Damage-
CMB -
Additional +7 to Trip (Improved Trip, Greater Trip Maneuver Training 3), +4 to Bull Rush (Improved Bull Rush, Maneuver Training 2), +3 to Overrun (Improved Overrun, Maneuver Training 1) Attack Breakdown
Assuming everything lands (being generous here), after a move it's 7d8+162, they're prone, and I can reposition them with Spinning Throw. Now, I have 0 faith in my own numbers or understanding here, can someone tell me where/if I've messed up?
A tall, powerfully built blonde woman steps into the lodge, her bare feet plodding heavily against the wood. "This be where to look for work, yeah?" Matted blonde braids swing as her gaze swivels around the room, her two front teeth poking from between her lips. "Aya, there it be!" Her eyes light up when they see the posting board and she breaks into a run, ignoring the looks from patrons as she sloppily begins scribbling her name on the board. With her thumb she rubs off some of the blue face paint donning her, and presses it to the page beside her name like a stamp. "Ye' who be in need of some muscle, Tita be your gal! Neither man nor beast can withstand my fists!" The woman turns and proudly flexes, muscles stretching against her lamellar armor before throwing a quick 1-2 punch and breaking into a grin. "And ye' who knows how to travel this stone jungle they call a 'city' be the one for Tita!" After letting out an unceremonious snort, she settles into a nearby chair, humming an off-beat tune.
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