Dr. Croaker's page

Uncle Froggy gives all frogs joy. Congratulations, my friend!

Dr. Croaker dumps water on Palomia's head.

◈ Splash! Ocean’s Balm Healing: 1d8 ⇒ 2

"Wake up! We don't have time for you to be lollygagging about!"

Seeing that Felinzi already healed Palomia, Dr. Croaker attemps to blast the statue but his water blast resembles more of a slow drip.

◈◈ Ranged Two-Action Water Blast (Bludgeoning or Cold, 30 ft.,): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Bludgeoning / Cold damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

He also repositions to give Arn a flank.

Dr. Croaker grins widely as the mummy is blown to ribbons. "That's the thing about boomerangs... They come BACK." He holds out a hand to catch the boomerang on its way back.

◈ Aerial Boomerang (Slashing, 60ft. line, DC 17 Reflex): 2d4 ⇒ (1, 1) = 2
Meh, minimal damage, but it was on the way back, so only one action!

Then he grins at the statue, and blasts it again!

◈◈ Ranged Two-Action Air Blast (Electricity or Slashing, 60 ft.,): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Electric / Slashing damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Dr. Croaker hates being between two bad guys in a position for an easy flank, so he sidesteps until he has both the mummy and the statue in a nice line. "This is just like one of those jungle games I played as a kid! Boomerang time!"

He tosses his boomerang at both the statue and the mummy.

◈ Stride

◈◈ Aerial Boomerang (Slashing, 60ft. line, DC 17 Reflex): 2d4 ⇒ (1, 4) = 5

I'm okay with a little Friendly Fire

SPLOOSH!

"Eh, I don't have time for this nonsense." Dr. Croaker blasts the red statue as hard as he can.

◈◈ Ranged Two-Action Water Blast (Bludgeoning or Cold, 30 ft.,): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Bludgeoning / Cold damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

And with his celebrated bedside manner, he slaps a bandage on Paloma. "We don't have time for you to get hurt! Take that statue down or get out of the way!"

◈ Battle Medicine: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Hero Point: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
Healing: 2d8 ⇒ (5, 6) = 11

"Chronic offender?" Dr. Croaker blows his paperwork towards the guards. "There, liability forms all signed! Now we have a job to do. I suggest that you let us do it, Madam."

"I've changed my mind. New Guy should definitely not be carrying our paperwork." Croaker looks at his own damp hands and then says, "Auntie Kikiru, can you do the honors?"

As Croaker looks around the collapsed pillars, he asks, "Does it look like these collapsed recently? Or did our 'Senior Pathfinder' do this? I hope no more pillars collapse while we are here."

Then Croaker sighs. "I'm assuming that he wanted to hurry and sneaky his way in here for the same reason all grave robbers do... treasure." But Croaker spreads his arms wide. "Unless by some miracle we're dealing with a rogue archaeologist who really has history as his first love, in which case, he can be our newer New Guy when we recruit him to the Society."

But Croaker's tone is dubious. "Eh. I don't buy that. Let's meet him for ourselves."

"New guy! Bring out our permit!" Croaker looks imperiously at poor Felinze. "Madame, I am sure you will see that all is in order."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

"Hmmmph." Meanwhile, Dr. Croaker looks over the other permit. "Interesting that this permit is identical to ours, but was applied for a year ago."

He chooses that moment to whisper on the wind to his colleagues.

"Didn't Balentiir state that the permit was approved and then sat there in the bureaucracy for a while? What if someone found our permit, knowing that it would be a while before we received it, and acted on it ahead of us?"

Dr. Croaker grabs a marvelous miniature ladder before leaving.

"After all the hard work has been done?" Dr. Croaker blinks, as he considers the ramifications of this situation. As far as he's concerned, the less digging, the better. Still, it's better to find out who exactly is this eager archaeologist.

"You know how bureacracy is." He waves a lazy flipper. "We just came off a steaming hot assignment in the capitol, but then our Venture Captain redirected us here to help out. This other Pathfinder... he came with all the proper paperwork, did he? I'd like to see it."

Feel free to join us at any time, folks!

Dr. Croaker looks around for Auntie, then closes his eyes and whispers on the wind. "Hey, Auntie... Where are you? You gotta check out what new guy has done to get the floor clean. He's practically made us a sauna!" Then Croaker sighs. "At least, until we have to go off to the bars again tonight. Tell me... Why are we in Osirion again? I liked the Shackles!"

Dr. Croaker realizes that he's been whining, and he harrumphs at himself.

"How are you running out of water so fast, new guy?" Dr. Croaker asks, fascinated as he flops back to Felinze. Then he pauses as he watches swaths of steam evaporate the water with each mop. "Wait... you're steam-cleaning the floor?"

Dr. Croaker squeaks his flippers along the sultry and still steaming surface. "Yow!" He has to splash some water at his feet to cool off, but looks to the little kobold with respect. "You practically boiled the bottoms of my feet there, but... It's not sticky. Not bad, new guy."

"Eh, new guy!" Dr. Croaker says upon seeing Felinze. "You gonna help me mop down this floor or what?" Croaker begins sloshing massive amounts of water around the floor. "I don't know what those drunks were doing, but blech! My flippers keep sticking to the floor."

So Arn, have you been having a good time? And will you be rejoining us to kick butt in Osirion? And do you have any questions so far?

Can you remove Dr. Croaker from this game, Samantha? The frog got lost and turned up here when he was supposed to hop to Osirion.

Kineticists were already remastered, so no changes for Dr. Croaker.

"Bah. The Society heard about how well I did on an aquatic adventure, and so where do they send me? The desert! At least though, it's an oasis..." Dr. Croaker had not minded the work in Sandswept Hall. It amused him that Norden Balentiir had the Pathfinders help clear out the drunk and disorderly folks from the bars, kept the drunks overnight in the basement of the lodge, and then charged the city for the service.

Dr. Croaker had happily showered off the rowdier drunks, and done medicine on anyone injured, while commenting, "Really? You called that a bar fight? You should have seen the bar fights that I dealt with in the Shackles!"

But it was morning, and it was time to let the poor buggers go, now that they'd sobered up. "Rise and shine! Fresh day, fresh start!"

Hearing the groans from the hungover drunks, Dr. Croaker sighed. "Really folks. Don't make me pick you up again tonight."

And please, let there be some other assignment soon!

I have Produce Flame given by Oracle Mystery. I don't see anything in the APG Compatibility Errata changing that - only for Psychics from Dark Archive... There is errata in the CRB for Produce Flame though.

So, use the new version of Produce Flame, yes?

Yep.

Sorry for the delay. I have repeatedly failed my Fortitude save this week in real life. Thanks for the bots!

Dr. Croaker saunters to the docks, and says to Arn, "Time to go, boy!"

You can only pacify sections you are in. So move, pacify, move, pacify is what all my charismatic type characters up to this point have done.

Dripping wet and pushed back, Dr. Croaker grins at Red. "Two can play that game, Tadpole. Remember, this is my kind of bar."

◈◈ Ranged Two-Action Water Blast (Bludgeoning or Cold, 30 ft.,): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Bludgeoning / Cold damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Since these are aquatics, let's go with bludgeoning!

◈ Ranged Water Blast (Bludgeoning or Cold, 30 ft.,): 1d20 + 7 - 5 ⇒ (4) + 7 - 5 = 6
Bludgeoning / Cold damage: 1d8 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

Although his first strike hits hard, his second kind of sloshes around the bar. "When you're ready to leave, I'll follow."

Each ◈ is an action. My second attack was at -5 because of multiattack penalty.

I am sorry that I haven't posted. I've been sick.

Lore (Underworld): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

It being Dr. Croaker's sort of bar, he collects contacts among the pirates to profit from a smuggling ring perfectly legitimate shipping investment.

what's with all the Nat 20's?! :)

"Eh. It's my kind of bar."

More seriously, I have no idea! I'll likely pay for these once combat hits.

Dr. Croaker picks up a dart, then summons a breeze to slam the dart into the dart board.

Ranged Air Blast (Electricity or Slashing, 60 ft.,): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Electric / Slashing damage: 1d6 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2

It slams into the bull's eye of the dart board with an extra sizzle of lightning. "Yep. This is my kind of bar."

If anyone needs a reroll, please... take my campaign coin!

I have a campaign coin and a vested interest in us succeeding in these challenges, so please, if you don't want to use your hero points, use my campaign coin as a floating hero point and erase a failure.

If Dr. Croaker had brows, he would have raised them watching Auntie Kikuru drink the flaming liquid and then belch it out. He claps for Auntie Kikuru's fiery display, then helpfully thumps Arn and Felinze on the back, refilling their glasses with fresh water. "Eh, drink it down. It'll help dilute the tar."

Turning to Stella Fane, the good doctor comments, "That was quite the beverage. If that's what you offer to friends, I should hate to see what you offer enemies."

That sounds adorable.

"Thank you, harbormaster! New guy, with us!" Dr. Croaker flops forward through the streets of Port Peril like he owns the town, and looks approvingly at the Last Catch pub. Amphibious and aquatic customers? This is his kind of place.

"Cleaner fish and sharks, eh?" Dr. Croaker grabs the drink. "Nice to meet you too, Stella." He grabs a drink and intones a toast.

"I'm a child of the wind and the wave
You can tell me to mind... but never behave
I love watching the sea and the shore it has tenderly washed
That's enough preamble... Let's get sloshed!"

Fortitude (E): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

He gulps down what Stella Fane is offering in one gulp.

SPLOSH!

Without warning, Dr. Croaker dumps a ball of water on Fel-in-ze Ocean's head. The water soothes all the bruises and cleans up the kobold's hurts, but never let it be said that Dr. Croaker's bedside manner is gracious.

"Eh, he can come with us. He should be fully healed now." And with that, Dr. Croaker returned back to the monologuing harbormaster. "You were going to tell me about Stella Fane?"

"We're trying to locate Stella Fane... Do you know where she might be found?"

After noticing the scuffle

Dr. Croaker bows to the Harbormaster, and says, "Um, can I get back to you? There appears to be a mugging-in-progress happening over there." Dr. Croaker points at the thugs harassing the hooded figure and whispers to one of them.

"This is the spirit of the Hurricane, and the one you harrass is MINE. Unhand them NOW."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

With the Harbormaster

You hear "I gotta stop hittin' the ale barrel. I'm seein' talkin' frogs now..."

Being excellent at whispering on the wind, Dr. Croaker stage whispers to the Harbormaster, "Are you sure you're only seeing one talking frog? As a medical professional, I can offer an excellent rate for a vision check."

It looks like we will be joined by a fifth player on the docks, so we may want to draw out this docks scene a bit more. Breihauptclan is joining our game.

Dr. Croaker helps Hlar with her nets and such, manipulating the water to help push her crab traps into the boat, or swimming and diving with her when needed.

Athletics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

While he trusts the water implicitly and can manipulate it at will, he has a lot more trouble manipulating himself in the water doing the tasks, and sometimes comes up sputtering. Still, it is good practice!

When they reach the docks, he turns back to Hlar. "Good fisher woman Hlar, where can we find you again once we're done with our task? Will you be nearby?"

★ ---- ★ ---- ★ ---- ★

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Then he approaches the harbormaster. "Ahem! Ahem! Are you, good sir, the fine dwarf known as Harbormaster Tsojmin Kreidoros?"

"Not me," Croaker says, glancing through his Adventurer's Pack. "Didn't have much need for crowbars before this, though they'd be more useful to me than these stupid torches that I have been carrying."

He drops the torches on the sandbar, glad to be freed of their weight.

Croaker shakes his head as Palomia and Relas are thrown off the boat, but dries the water off them so they'll stop shivering. The water droplets fly to his hand, and then he drops them back in the sea with a soft plop. "That better?"

"There's a wooden crate buried here!" Croaker works to bring the box up, cooing at the waves and rocks the box back and forth until he deposits it on the sandbar right at Arn's feet.. "Anyone strong care to open it?"

Dr. Croaker thumps Arn on the back until he gets all the saltwater out of his nose. "Now, let's practice breathing out under water. I promise that it stings less once you get the hang of it!"

"Hmmmph. I suppose you're right. So how long do you think it will take for Calisro to toss the others off the boat?" Dr. Croaker takes a deep breath and whispers on the wind. "Arn, Palomia, Relas, come in. The water's fine, and the sandbar solid."

He looks at Auntie Kikiru with a wink. "My voice really carries quite well. It's handy sometimes."

Then he dips in and out of the water, checking around the sandbar.

Dr. Croaker would like to search and see if he finds anything interesting.

Frog legs flailing, Dr. Croaker yells, "You want to talk waivers? Do you?!"

Rubbing his arms once they let go of him, he crosses out sections of the waiver agreement and handwrites in, Dr. Croaker will sue your collective sailor butts if you manhandle him again. Then with a flourish he signs the rest of the waiver.

"You threaten to toss me off, and then you manhandle me when I dive to avoid that. Make up your mind!" With what remains of his dignity, he dives overboard, muttering under his breath about the general lack of manners found in the shackles.

SPLOSH!

"Fine." Dr. Croaker snatches the scroll and dives overboard.

Athletics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21

At this point, he'd rather trust to the wind and the waves then try to get any more information out of this rough-and-ready Venture Captain.

"Eh. Water's calm now. Shouldn't be too difficult a swim, and getting off the boat will help Arn's queasiness and do him some good."

Dr. Croaker finishes his coffee, then summons plenty of water to swish out and clean his cup. He hands it off to one of the other crewmen with a thankful nod. Then he looks at the scroll. "It looks well-sealed so it won't get wet during our dip," he peers at Calisro. "What can you tell us about Stella Fane, since I presume we'll have to go looking for her? Any suggestions about where to look?"

Dr. Croaker points towards the Mwangi coastline, and the perpetual Eye of Aroden hurricane. "I'm a local. I come from just the other side of that not-so-distant storm, in the sodden lands that soak up all the extra water sprayed in our direction, so I know that Port Peril is a good-sized and boisterous settlement. I'd like some idea of where we're headed when we get there."

Then he looks over at the tiny sandbar. "Also...Who is coming to pick us up from that sandbar?"

I have 4 by myself. Bret has 3. We are covered.

Hello Ladile! Good to see you again!

I will be bringing Dr. Croaker, my grippli wind and water kineticist. He comes from deep within the sodden lands, and is a fairly effective healer, with battle medicine and risky surgery for emergencies and Ocean's Balm for all other healing.

He is not the best skills person, but he has fun elemental blasts, healing, and the ability to whisper on the wind - a supercharged version of the message spell that lets me whisper to anyone in the party by speaking their name.

Everyone will be starting this adventure with 2 Hero Points between me, Bret and Ladile.

Port Peril Pub Crawl

The last few days on Calisro Benarry's ship, The Glorious Payoff, had been interesting ones for Dr. Croaker. The grippli doctor had bided his time, waiting for their colorful Venture-Captain, Calisro Benarry, to just go ahead and give them their briefing already. Oh, she'd been a gracious host... She gave them just enough work aboard the ship to feel included without actually working them too much, told them lots of ridiculous stories about her home town of Averaka and time as a smuggler before she became a Venture-Captain. She'd also included a few tantalizing tidbits about the political situation in Sargava--no, it was called Vidrian now, wasn't it?

But she hadn't gotten to the point. Nothing about the mission, or why they were doing this little pleasure cruise in contested and pirate-filled waters. Never mind. Dr. Croaker knew that he could wait it out. He was from the sodden lands, and the swamp had taught him the value of patience and listening to the winds. He had genially offered his services as a medical man, and opened up his ears to hear the gossip that the winds brought him.

Which wasn't much, actually. All he knew from the crew's talk so far was that they were close to their destination.

He clambered up the rat-lines of the ship, feeling the satisfying rough texture of the hemp rope under his hands. It smelled of salt, wind, and human sweat, along with the grassy scent of the hemp itself. He tugged on the rope, and it felt solid under his hands as he made his way up to the crow's nest. Then he took in the view of the sea, and felt the wind in his face, and he calmed. Human politics did not always make sense, but this... the sea and the wind? This he could rely upon.

Then he looked down, noticing the rest of his team, up and moving about on the deck. He supposed it was time to learn more about these strangers upon he would be soon relying, including the little grippli witch who had come with them. Taking a deep breath, and spreading his webbed arms like wings, Dr. Croaker leaps off the crows nest and gracefully glides down to the deck.

Bowing to his teammates, he says, "Good morning. Shall we grab some coffee, and talk?"

Off to the swamp!

"Does it hurt when I do this?"

"Fascinating," The grippli physician takes notes, or tries to, anyway. His pen appears to be missing and he fumbles for it in his vest for a few minutes before giving up and takes another swig of the Galtan red wine. "The inebriation effect must only work on mammals."