Durothil Moonstep's page

Got it! Thanks again for running!

This is only my 2nd 'special' but it seems that there were a lot of combats. Glad I didn't have to worry about conserving magical resources. Lots of fun though and as always thanks for running GM. :)

sorry very busy :(

Bardiche vs green: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Once more. Once more.

Stepping past his companions, he once again brandishes his bardiche.

Bardiche vs green Voidworms : 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Gorum if there is ever I time that I need you it is now. Somehow aid your servant.

Abandoning the sky key for the moment, Durothil does what a warrior does, fights.

Stepping to the southeast, he swings his bardiche once again, hoping to find some purchase in this electrical denizen.

Bardiche: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
When will the bad dice rolls ever end?

Player Name: John S.
Character Name: Durothil
PFS # & Character #: 75655-4
Faction: Grand Lodge
Chronicle #: 10
Slow/Normal advancement: Normal
Starting XP: 9
Starting Fame: 17
Starting Prestige: 14
Starting Gold: 2102.88
Day Job Check: Craft Weapons: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18I reserve the right to reroll if I don't use it and this roll sucks

- potions of cure light wounds (2)

Sorc:
- potion of cure moderate wounds- potion of invisibility,
- scroll of silent image,
- wand of entangle (20 charges),
- cloak of resistance +1,
- The Sky Key!!! (this is what is pulsing)

Round 1: Durothil gulps down the liquid.

CMW: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (2, 6) + 3 = 11

Round 2:

Joining the fun, Durothil moves up and swings.

Bardiche: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

"I need some healing before more get here or I am in trouble. Dekion get back here. NOW!"

Seeing the Pathfinder struggle, knowing there must be more to come, Durothil digs deep within himself to find the last bit of strength before treating his wounds.

With a heave and a grunt, he swings his pole axe.

Bardiche, flank vs blue: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17
Bardiche vs blue: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

He then take on hand off his bardiche, and raises a spike gauntleted fist in case the blue agent moves within his reach.

GM since that is a free action, can that be SOP from now on so I still threaten and Dekion or whomever can still get the bonus to flank?

Durothil steps to the south east and swings at red

Bardiche flank: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 9 + 2 = 16
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

Blood running down his side form the wound he took the round before, Durothil has stopped talking. This was it, kill or be killed. Today was not a day he wished to die.

Again his polearm swished through the air slicing into the Aspis agent.

Bardiche, flank? vs red: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 9 + 2 = 23
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Stepping to the northwest, Durothil relishes the opportunity to eliminate a foe before anyone else. Token not moved

Rather than swing with his patented over head chop, this time Durothil sweeps low, hoping to chop his enemy off at the knee.

Bardiche vs FF AC: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

May I suggest the following order: Dekion, Pip, Brokhan, Rravn, Durothil, Drusilla.

Works for me

Magic mirrors and sloping stairways? What have I got myself into?

Durothil quickly follows Lady BroKhan, hand itching on his bardiche handle, itching to swing at some Aspis agents.

Acrobatics, +2 dex based skill: 1d20 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (9) - 1 + 2 = 10

Running awkwardly, Durothil manages to make it to the staircase and beings to ascend.

"That scroll guy - you know the one that isn't quite as good looking as me, he said something about a mirror, and working together. Doesn't that mean we all stick together?

"What if you in that room open the door and you are in a different place. How do we get to you? Bah! This is not my forte. Just want to crack a few more Aspis over the head and call it a day."

Realizing that his help is not entirely helpful, Durothil makes himself available to assist the team in any way possible.

GM any Knowledge check that would be beneficial here?

"Bah! Riddles. Can't stand them. Well I will go with the group consensus, but I wonder if there is a clue somewhere in this ledger. Sadly I do not posses the skill to distinguish different writing styles."

Frustrated by his lack of useful abilities, Durothil keeps an eye out for any potential trouble.

"Lady you speak the truth. I have attended much better parties than this one."

Blood dripping from numerous superficial wounds, he hands his wand to one of the divine casters in the group. "If you please."

CLW #1: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
CLW #2: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
CLW #3: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

"Ggah!"

Covered in glass and scrapes, scratches, and wounds, Durothil's feet grinds the glass into sand as he crunches his way to his last foe.

Leaving bloody footprints, he hefts his bardiche once more. The heavy bladed head weighting heavy upon his burning shoulders.

His strength failing, he again attempts with a mighty swipe, to decapitate the foul glassman. He quickly readies for the shower of shards that are about to rain down upon him.

Bardiche vs blue: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Images: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Token not moved

Durothil swings hard but meets no resistance as his bradiche encounters no resistance, popping an image. He pulls his axe back and prepares another swing, hoping to shatter the creature and maintain the Lady Drusilla's immaculate clothing.

Bardiche, heroism: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 9 + 2 = 15
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Sorry for the delay

Realizing that a major Pathfinder leader is lying dead send Durothil into a morose silence.

This is war. Friends dying, heroes falling, who will rise to the occasion? Who will fill the ranks to take their place?

Suddenly numerous mirror images spring to life. Durothil feels Pips punch, and instantly feels his spirits rise.

"Thanks Pip. I mean to do you proud!"

He moves towards the nearest foe and swing his pole axe once again.

Bardiche, heroism: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 9 + 2 = 19
Damage: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Embarrassed bu this recent failures, Durothil silently vows to makes amends. Though still weary of the fearsome Yeti, he moves in to Bardiche range to once again chop at the frozen terror.

What moron let this things out of its cage?

Bardiche: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 9 + 1 = 30
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 1 = 13

Bardiche confirm: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 1 = 21
Bardiche, trait: 1d10 + 5 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 1 + 2 = 9

22 if a 21 hits, 13 if it doesn't

Works for me. PM'd the GM. I have acquired a shirt and waiting in approval for a Reroll.

That is absurd and I for one am ashamed.

Should have spent more time in the archery grounds.

Silently regretting his lack of proficiency with a bow, one of the traditional weapons of his people, Durothil once again lines up a shot.

Longbow +3: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Maybe we need to use Aid Another here

Durothil once again takes aim at the sorcerer flying high in the library. He quickly glances at the books on fire before deciding to loose another arrow at the wielder of arcane magics.

Drawing the waxed string high to his cheek, he inhales sharply before loosening and exhaling in step to send the shaft whistling towards his target.

Longbow (+3) vs sorcerer: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Arrow damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Sorry too many characters that start with D

For a moment Durothil sees horrible images flicker through his consciousness Gritting his teeth, he keeps telling himself It is not real. Focus. It is not real. Focus.

Able to weather the majority of the spell's effects, Durothil once again draws, pulls, releases.

Long Bow (+3): 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 6 - 2 = 13 Hope that gets something
Long Bow Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Image, 1 real: 1d2 ⇒ 2

Surveying the battlefield, Durothil knows he has to deal with the flying mage sooner rather than later.

Dropping his bardiche to the ground, he retrieves his bow. Nocking an arrow, he aims and looses in one fluid motion.

Longbow vs flying mage: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
image, 1 real: 1d4 ⇒ 2

This was something simple. Move. Strike. Help Pip. Durothil liked simple. Swing and kill. Feel the bardiche it metal, break metal, inflict wounds. Kill. He felt at home doing all these things. Worry about the flying mage later. But for mow, kill the northmen.

He moves forward quickly and swings hard hoping to end these fights quickly.

Bardiche, flank vs FF red: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17 Seriously
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

As the battle subsides, Durothil looks around him. Everything familiar, everything that he cared about, this place - more a home than Kyonin, was besieged.

Slowly they were reclaiming what was theirs, what had always been theirs, but at what cost?

He strides over to Gunari with the others. Sitting down wearily, he looks at the Cadenyite. "So you are the famous beer priest my little brother talks so much about. You know it has been years, not that it matters so much to us elves. He and I, brothers, but as different as two can be." He starts to look around him, lost in thoughts, not really wanting to share with this man, this group, but he knew this would most likely never happen again.

Courage on the battelfield, there was no fight he backed down from, but this 'fight' was challenging. "Gunari, when you see him. Tell him .... tell him. Well we didn't always agree. You know he can be a pain in the ass. Just let him know that I am well, and that I hope he is well too. Maybe our paths will cross one day. Well I know you are upset about the Trollheim, but do you think there is some Chelish red around here, something with a peppery finish?"

"Gah! All these people around it."

Durothil tries to maneuver into a better position to strike out at the red statue, knowing his blow will only be one of many needed to destroy this thing from another world.

Bardiche, advice: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 9 + 1 = 23
Bardiche, advice: 1d10 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 1 = 13

Again he chops at it with his Bardiche severing off a few peddles.

I attacked and missed before the oversee-er

I am assuming that blue is read after those attacks, if not retcon to a move and attack blue with a 5 foot step.

Durothil seeing his companions decimate the blue statue, moves closer to the red statue. He looks down at his bardiche, knowing it is not the correct weapon for the fight, but he had to contribute somehow.

He lifts the haft over his head so the blade is almost hitting him in the rear, then he swings over his head as hard as he can, hoping to shear off a slice or two of the statue.

Bardiche: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14 weird synergy - too much turkey and beer

Drusilla - no matter about the cloak - you can have it.

If no one wants it Durothil could use the cloak

Springing into action, Durothil barrels past Drusilla and the pillar into a more tactical position.

Once again the air whistles as the bardiche slices through the air. Durothil is a bit nervous trying to hit the stone angles with his curved-headed pole arm, but he hope he can do at least some damage.

Bardiche: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

"I much prefer a living target, but these statues will do for now."

No reroll, need 2 more games for that GM star. My fort save is +6, my will is +2 w/ an additional +2 for charm and enchantment

Seeing one of his own down, Durothil redoubles his efforts. He move into range and again swings his bardiche at the sorcerer's head.

Bardiche, IC: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 1 = 20
Damage, IC: 1d10 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 1 = 9
Images, 4 is real: 1d4 ⇒ 4

"Quarter will be given. Surrender before you lose your head."

Cannot see tokens on Map can someone move me please? I have reach.

Durothil springs into action, drawing his bardichhe. He leaps over the sleeping Lady Brokhan and swings at the Aspis agent in a chopping motion.

Bardiche vs blue: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10 Oh brother
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Slipping slightly, his chop goes wide of the agent.

"Your time will come. Sooner rather than later."

Seems overseer and I are on the same posting schedule. Have you ever seen us in the same room together?

"Oh I know the difference and one as seasoned as you I would expect the same. Seems you might be confused on what constitutes a battle and what constitutes a war. For this is but a battle in the war versus the Aspis, one that we lost. I am confident that we will win this war, and it is right to fight it, least I don the serpents this minute. But to think that we will emerge victorious this day is folly.

We will do well to mitigate the damage, but that is the most we can hope for. Enough banter, you and I share a common goal today, and I believe that you are currently outstripping me in victories this day. A fact that I hope to soon rectify."

Durothil follows the rest of the Pathfinders, bradiche strapped on his back. Veteran of battle states that I can draw a weapon as free action in the surprise round.

Turning to Lady Dursilla, "You may not recognize it, but we are at war, and this" he sweeps his hand, "this is a battle. One that is already lost. The only question remains as to how badly we will be defeated."

Changing tactics, Durothil steps back and around. Understanding the ebb and flow of a battle, he made sure that each and every blow struck was one that counted, that mattered.

Moving the bradiche from a ready position near his left knee, Durothil swings it up past hie right shoulder before chopping straight down on the the creatures shoulder.

Bardiche, flank ,IC: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 + 1 = 18
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 1 = 7 Sigh

Careful not to hit any of his friends, Durothil's swing goes wide.

"Why do you insist on perpetuating this farce. Eventually we will kill you. Won't we?"

Durothil looks at the fight around him, relishing in the combat. This is where he is meant to be. He strikes out with his bardiche, hoping to decapitate the strange humanoids and get back in the thick of battle. Rising his ploearm above his shoulder, he swipes at the thing's head.

bardiche attack on blue: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 9 + 1 = 19
bardiche damage: 1d10 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 5 + 1 = 15

Why is the Lady hugging that thing?

"Hey Drusilla, we aren't at a Taladan Ball here."

"Good the talkie talkie is over. Time to do what I do best."

Moving into a better position, Durothil rises his bardiche over his head. With a chopping motion, he brings it down on the blue thing

"You should not have talked back. Now we need to teach you manners. And should you live a solid vocation other than theft."

Bardiche vs Blue: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 Ooof. Horrible rolls since my Will save earlier. Only 1 over 10 all day. I blame you Jack
Bardiche: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Durothil trips momentarily as he passes a fallen timber, causing his swing to sail well wide.

"Just try to take off, I'll get you yet."

Best ninja (Cyrus) ever. Lol.

Durothil has seen this scene played out time and time again. Young recruits, veterans, men, women, everyone. War was awful. War was terrible. War was loud, and smelly, and frightening.

Around the bar, pint in hand, everyone was brave. Nestled by the warmth of the fire, everyone was brave. Writing your name on the role, ready to serve, did not guarantee success.

Durothil looked around. The motivations of the assembled mirrored their diverse race and role. Yet this was war. War he knew.

Moving into the room, he took a more direct approach with the humanoids, stepping out of Lady BroKhan's shadow. "We have no time to mince words. Pathfinders are spilling their blood all over the campus, and every second we spend with you is one less our brothers and sisters have without us. Out with it. On who's authority are your here?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21 waste of a crit!

Remembering back to the days sparring with Finarin, whacking him harder then he should have, more often than was necessary, the joy of beating an elf down was the driving force for Durothil. Was he a bully? Maybe. But there was no denying that he made others stronger. He knew in order to pick yourself up, you needed to be knocked down first.

He looked at these scared Pathfinder. He knew that his normal encouragement would only break them down more. Maybe break them past the point of usefulness.

This is what separated him from the evil of the Aspis. He knew there was a line, and he didn't cross it. At least, very often.

"Thank Gorum we found you. Listen, we need you and we need you right now. There are few around that can pick a lock, or disable a trap like you Jayson. Come man, fall in with us and let's get the job done so we can dive into those untapped kegs. We can be the stuff of legend. The rest of you, fall in too. There is strength in numbers. Better stay with us so we can tackle this mess together." He slaps the man on the back and offers a welcoming grin.