Diharhan's page

Nomed, who has been listening intently to the conversation, almost laughs out loud once Wolfgang tells him the good news, that Aunt Rhona just so happens to also be the f%*$ing sheriff!

This is bad bad juju. Cimri is vulnerable, time to think Nomed..

Nomed moves his way over to the group of trees by the edge of the square, pretending to have lost interest with the crowd. He pulls out a trail ration from his backpack, and once no one is looking, a single arrow. He makes a show of eating the ration, to appear for all purposes as someone having a snack in the shade on a hot afternoon. He gets up and goes behind the cover of the trees briefly, the arrow concealed in his large hand.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Nomed takes one more second to ensure no one sees him, and, tracing a talon along his recent chest wound places the arrow right in front of the still healing flesh. Luckily it sounds like the crowd is distracted, as sudden cheers for Archbaron Fex suddenly rise high above the normal chatter. The tengu uses that as his cue to act..

This is going to hurt hurt.. Nomed sighs to himself as he drives the arrow deep into the wound!
Damage: 1d2 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5 not sure what damage for this is, so I'm winging it

Suddenly to the onlookers of the crowd, a large, pissed off birdman with an arrow sticking out of his chest comes barreling through the packed square! Nomed glares at all who are looking and yells..

"WHO WOULD DARE TRY TO SHOOT SLAY ME WHILE I EAT?! WHO AMONGST YOU IS THE THRICE DAMNED COWARD??! SPEAK!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20 YESSSS!

Nomed watches and Sicaria and Wolfgang tear apart the tannery office. He unceremoniously begins breaking the tail of the crossbow bolt off with a heavy SNAP, tearing the head of the bolt out of his chest. Dropping the projectile to the floor, Nomed begins pilfering the tapestries on the wall at Cimris behest, eager to make a quick payday...

Appraisal: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (15) - 2 = 13

...but Nomed is unsure what he is looking at, and just begins grabbing anything off the wall he thinks maybe of value

Confusion seems to spread on the large tengus avian features, twisting into what looks like a mixture of a scowl and a look of surprise..

"Why do you keep keep woman's underwear with you Vigo? Is this tool to distract the dog?" Nomed asks outloud, clearly not getting the implied humor

Lets be DASTARDLY!! haha love it

Greetings fellow evil-doers and dastardly villians! GM Hawthwile asked if I would be possibly interested in joining this fiendish campaign. To which I replied with a resounding Hell yes!

So looking at the current party configuration a good old melee beatstick
looks like it could fit very nicely. With two humans, a tiefling, and a half elf, I'll mix it up a bit. How bout a tengu! Variety is the spice right

Concept:
Bloodrager (Urban/Blood Conduit)
Str 18, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 7, Wis 9, Cha 7
Big, dumb, and ugly
Feats: Toughness
Traits: Mutant eye, Reactionary, and a third from the guide yet undecided on :)
Racial: Claws
AC 18, HP 15, Fort 4, Ref 3, Wis -1
Attacks: Bite 1d3+4, Claw 1d3+4, Claw 1d3+4
Rage 6 rounds

Basically my pc if you think it would fit, would be the bodyguard and loyal protector of the group. Born with an infernal taint in his blood that caused quite dramatic abnormalities within the tengu at birth, he was born quite large for his kin, nearly feather-less, and with a mutated third eye. The tengu was lucky to have survived childbirth where he was shortly sold to slavers, and raised in the fighting pits. The tengu knew nothing short of constant hell growing up. Everything changed when he was purchased by a witch looking for fresh stock from the slave markets for her rituals and experiments. Happening by chance upon the tengu and sensing his uncanny resemblance and connection to the demon Vrock, the witch believed there meeting to be the work of fate. Enamored with her new bodyguard the tengu lived quite a fulfilling and happy existence until some upstart pathfinders looking to make a name for themselves killed his master. Alone, and enraged the tengu has sworn a bloodoath of revenge

Lmao me too! Glad your still conscious brosif, this is one intense battle! Was hoping to end it early with a color spray but those rolls...

Garr shifts back into his human form, his armor thankfully reappears as well...

"Ahem... well. Sorry, guess I should've warned you all first. The title "Grizzly of Taldor" isn't just for show." Garr sheepishly replies, taking note of Brialla's reaction

Full attack

"ROOOOAARRR" the bear attacks the surprised Tiefling!

Bite: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Crit: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Crit Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Claw: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Damage: 1d4 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Claw: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Damage: 1d4 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

"This ends now Tiefling...." Garr roars, his voice becoming more feral and deep. His body starts to violently convulse as fur, claws, and fangs suddenly erupt from the barbarian! When the transformation is complete a large bear now stands where the man once was...

AM I ALLOWED TO MURDER SIR? WASNT SURE IT WAS MY TURN

"OUCH!! I warned ye lassie, about that.."

Garr thrusts forward with his trident!

Trident: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Garr sitting back down with the crowd, attempts to build up the anticipation for the second half of the show! "Everyone, everyone, calm down. I peeked backstage.. and from what I could tell, round two of this production is set to go off with a bang! Sit, the shows about to start!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 + 2 = 12

NICE BLUFF

Garr's smile widens even more as Brialla compliments his brew. "Just in town for some much needed rest and relaxation lass, after my first successful outing with the Society I was hoping to catch in some of the sights. And yourselves? Are ye here to take in all the merriment as well or is your cause a more dire one?!" Garr asks, looking over to Brialla and company

Looking good though. Your cmd is 14. It's a total of your str mod, dex mod, and Bab. Besides that I believe you also get two more languages to know based on your int modifier. But Dystopian would know more I'd have to look but I'm pretty sure

@Kala: Warren is about 5'10.

-Also Darius, Kala has a good point, the biggest bane for me making my profile was the page not letting you go back into it if you jump between web pages as your making the profile. Writing down brief notes especially for all the skills you gotta plug in really helps so you have something to look at real quick for reference. And oh yeah SAVE. Often. Lol Good luck!

20ft move to door, casts Divine Favor (+2 hit and damage/10 rounds)

"Naruda bless you! HAHA! I AM A GIANT AMONG MEN!"

The euphoria of being enlarged is clearly inflating Garr's ego

Garr moves in, his tall, thick legs pumping as he heads to the southern door. When he nears the doorway, he stops. Bracing himself for a breach, he mutters a glorious prayer to Gorum to guide him in the ensuing battle
"Gorum! Bless my hand to strike true, my fury to be unending, and my enemies to lay broken before me!"

Garr casts Divine Favor on himself

Enlarged, Roaring, and glowing with divine might, Garr is quite the sight to behold..

Garr will double move 40 ft. Coming to the edge of the fence and preparing next round to cast Stabilize at range once I can get Magdalyin within sight (25ft)

Garr rushes to the aid of Magdalyn, his legs pumping as he heads to the edge of the fence.

Garr gives a low bow and salutes the sentient blade with his own
"Well met Soldiers Glory! Im still not sure if your a hallucination from the blow I took or if this is real..." Garr scratches his head as if in contemplation and then pinches his thick orcish hide to ensure this was indeed not a dream...
"So this indeed is real.. In that case, im curious what a talking sword may need with us if anything? But im pleased to meet your acquantice, the names Garr. Garr nesteruk, warpriest and arm of Gorum"

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Knowledge, Religion: 1d20 ⇒ 12

Garr notices a small burlap bag buried in the sand "There's a burlap sack buried in the sand by the campfire! If anyone is near perhaps there's something in it of use to us." When Garr looks upon the landscape he sees the young noble engaged with a scorpion. One of the size of a horse no less!

The vermin may be some type of guardian dedicated to this holy site of Sarenrae, judging by the altar.

Garr looks on as suddenly the gigantic insect is upon them, the wounded creature grabbing Perrine in a pincered embrace and nearly sawing the halfling in two.
"By the gods! Your going to pay for that you overgrown stinger with legs, I shall beat my drum while feasting upon a delicious scorpion steak this night!"

Garr moves forward and casts Cure Light Wounds on Perrine, washing the dying gnome with divine healing. Using his healing power spontaneously this way causes Garr to forget one of his other memorized spells. His recollection of Divine Favor he had prepared is forgotten.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Happy New year! My resolution is to not almost kill anymore unarmed gnome females. Gotta start small... lol

Garr obliges Perrine, although not a performer of any talent whatsoever the half-orcs passion is strong. He is especially happy once Naruda joins in, the two untrained but enthusiastic team mates going to town with there off key and off rhythm duet

As Garr awaits for transportation to ferry the crew to there next mission he decides to boost the teams morale by playing an orcish warsong on his drum...

DUM...DUM DUM DUM... DUM DUMMMM His thick hands beat the drum relentlessly, the crescendo of the beats rising in volume and ferocity. Garr finishes the solo with an exaggerated bow and a wide smile. Satisfied to have someone else other than the usual non company he keeps to play for

Merry Christmas!!

After Garr finishes licking his wounds and wiping his orcish blood from his armor, the half orc walks over to the gnome and offers a bow of respect to the sister of the forest "Well now... Quite a good thrashing ya gave me Little un! Perhaps I was too hasty in my actions. That could've easily been a rolling fireball, or some divine bolt of lightning you were getting ready to unleash, and the way I was raised in my orcish tribe-those who hesitate. Usually end up dead. I'm glad things worked out the way they did, I find this lesson... very humbling. I appreciate you not sending my battle spirit to see Gorum just yet, I still struggle with the duality of my nature, the orc in me sometimes winning out.."

Cant believe I got throttled by a gnome female! Ill have to learn not to underestimate my foes again, this could've been my first and last mission with the pathfinders. Time to stop acting like an orc whelp

Garr gives another respectful bow, this time to the elder tree and finishes by saying a prayer under his breath to the Lord in Iron

As the doors to the inn swing open, an armored half orc, with a greatsword slung upon his back and a heavy iron holy symbol dangling from his meaty neck walks slowly in. The half orc takes a moment to size up the patrons inside-and-seemingly satisfied, plops a seat at a table and begins to take a swig from his waterskin. The cool, refreshing water washing away the taste of the road from his parched lips. "I hope this town has more work than the last, my stomach is wasting away and soon I'll look the size of a halfling female." The Orc looks about the tavern, slowly contemplating his next journey. Hello Everyone! New to Pathfinder society, but long time fanboy of the Pathfinder game. Hoping to meet some interesting new players and have memorable adventures and begin a new module or quest if anyone has need of some strong orc muscle.