The rogue version of Ember is ready. All information is in his profile.
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I played this character in a PBP campaign that ended almost as soon as it got started, so I've seen the first few elements, it it matters. This character was a 3rd party class called a time thief. I will rework him as an unchained rogue or an investigator.
Dotting for interest. This character started another Strange Aeons game but it barely got off the ground before the GM had to leave it. This character was a Time Thief, which is an interesting 3rd party class, but I will probably shift him to unchained rogue for this setting. How Far I got in the AP: Basically, we got past the strange dreams/memories and work up and fought a shape shifting baddy or two, managed to get up a level to a hall and were just starting to explore the rooms in the first hall. That's all the further we got. You can click on this PCs posts to get some flavor for how I was playing the character. I was working with the idea that he was sort of a leech who charmed his way into rich families and milked the situation and then made off with what he could. So it this strange situation where he doesn't exactly remember how he got here, he slips pretty easily into inventing a persona and a past for himself, kind of like it was a survival instinct. I realize that might not prove to be exactly correct, but that was guiding my role playing choices until then.
If you are thinking of creating a character for the Wrath of the Righteous campaign, ignore the sfufff with rolling dice for abilities and just go with a 20 point build plus the standard ability increase that comes with leveling up. Take standard wealth for 4th level PC.
Well, there have been no posts from our GM in this game or the Roland Aristocrat campaign since April. The GM was one of the original players in my Wrath of the Righteous campaign and so I am reluctantly starting the process of recruiting a new player to replace him. I know the players in this campaign are creative and reliable, so I want to start the search here first. Clebsch ClebschGM Wrath of the Righteous Adventure Path is the thread. If any one is interested in joining, take a look at the gameplay thread for what has happened so far and to see the role Franti played. You will be creating a 4th level character (see recruitment thread for creation guidelines) to fill the general role of rogue. A high disable device skill is a must, as no one else really has that skill. The group has two solid fighters, a healer, and two arcane casters, so a good fighting rogue or bard with disable device would fit best. Post your ideas in the discussion thread if interested. Input from the established players will be considered so sell your character. Best to work on a rationale for being in Kenabes after its fall but before the Crusaders have reasserted control. The party is consistently good aligned with strong motivations for ending the Worldwound threat, so your character should fit with that same goal. Keep in mind characters will be adding mythic levels soon and the AP takes characters up to 20th level with 10 tiers of mythic levels as well.
My computer is on the fritz, so if I don't have time to post at work, I won't be able to post from home. I expect it will be fixed in a day or two.
Ember remained by the door slashing at vermin as he reached around the edge of the door.
Ember tries to stab one of the creepy crawlies around the corner of the door.
Once again, I must beg patience as I go a while without posting. Should be the last week where this will be a problem. I hope I'll have something up no later than Friday. Then my schedule shifts back to 2 classes, Monday through Thursday, from about 8 to 3 PM. Should mean daily posts again. In the meantime, please 'bot me as needed.
"Weapons drawn," Ember says calmly. Then he shifts Pasiune, Rivas, and Campre back away from the door, positions Gladiola in front of the door across the hall, so there is five feet of space between her and the door. He has Epinone stand to the north and he stands to the south. "I will open the door and step back. If it's aggressive and comes out to play, we have it surrounded. If not, then we repeat the approach in the boiler room. Does that sound like a plan or what?"
Ember kicked a rat and considered what it might taste like with some spicy breading, deep fried, with some coffee spiked with whiskey and cream. Rivas' outburst took Ember out of his reverie and he stared at the man and then cast a glance at the others. Not wanting to diminish morale, he gave Rivas a thumbs up and a weak smile, like he understood how he felt. On his way out to check out the next room, he noticed the bucket again, with the rat shaped caved in side. "Time to wake up," he whispered to himself, hoping he'd wake up with a woman at his side and the smell of sausage and eggs wafting up from some well-stocked kitchen. He paused, expectantly, but when the asylum remained stubbornly real, he padded out and took up a position at the next door, staring intently at the door, looking for locks, traps, and other clues as to what might be behind it.
Something occurred to me today. How many day's growth of beard is on Ember and Rivas? This could give him (and everyone else) a certain sense of how long he has been a prisoner.
I'm hoping to get posts up on Friday, once I've had a good night's rest and some breakfast. Feeling somewhat better, finally.
Sorry, but I haven't been able to post as soon as I thought I would. I've got a nasty sore throat and head cold that is taking a lot out of me and I haven't been able to get the energy to work on PBP. I'll try to get something up tomorrow.
Ember raises his cutlass but realizes he would not need it, as Gladiola and a bucket with a vendetta against these vermin made it unnecessary. He looks at the bucket and then at Eponine who had been busy casting and Rivas who has been busy screaming and back at the bucket, scratching his head with the blade guard of his cutlass.
Ember watched the outsized rodents wriggle out to attack, swished his cutlass back and forth to limber up and then took a swing at the nearest one.
"Well stabbed, m'lady!" he calls out as Gladiola dispatched the leader with a fearsome thrust. He gives a nervous glance at Rivas, however. "You okay, bro?" he called out to him.
rolls:
Ember sees Eponine reach out her hand to touch him and he recoils a moment, thinking, 'When has one of these religious types done anything good for me?'. Time seems to slow down, a feeling he seems to have a lot, and when his eyes focus on Eponine's butterfly emblem, it draws forth a memory of looking at a similar emblem and an elderly woman handing him a rope through a door open just enough to let the rope through. He felt then, as now, ambivalence, surprise, and suspicion, but then he heard footsteps on a distant stairway and he grabbed the rope and ran to a window to tie the rope to a bed and toss the other end out the window and start use it to make a getaway. The memory fades. He looks up at Eponine's oddly mismatched eyes and he reaches a hand out and touches hers. Feeling the warmth and other strange magical energies, he feels adrift again, wondering if he is once more in a dream or hallucination. But the others are still standing around him in the hall waiting. He struggles for something to say. Inwardly he finds himself contemplating something nasty but can form no insult. Then he realizes he is feeling genuine gratitude, or what he imagines such a thing might feel like. He says only, "Thanks." His wounds heal almost completely. To cover his embarrassment, he turns back to the door and opens it. After Gladiola takes point, he slides in as quietly as he can . But his scabbard knocks into a metal pipe that is leaning against the wall and it falls with a clank that sounds like a building collapsing to his frayed nerves. He nevertheless presses forward looking into each boiler and underneath and anywhere else something might hide or be hidden. "Thought I saw a light for a moment. Maybe it was a pilot light."
"As my dear friend, Baron Fursthausen always said, 'Trust is a strange thing. You can only get it from others when you are prepared to give it to them.'" He gave a quirky smile and glanced to see if the others were in place, ready to face whatever they found. Once everyone looked ready he proceeded.
DC 29 Sense Motive: He is lying about something.
Ember looked back up the hall as Pasiune spoke and nodded. "Let's check out the boiler room, then. I will gladly open the door." He put a hand on his lock pick set and headed back to the door that had been passed by earlier. He looked over the others, wincing a little at Pasiune's wounds. "Can anyone do anything about these?" He looked at Eponine. "Does that holy symbol mean you're in good with one of the gods? We may need a little divine intervention. Is that starknife the only weapon you have?" He regarded the weapons at hand. "I've got a club and an ax if anyone needs a weapon." Finally he regarded Gladiola. "Looks like we may be the best to lead the charge once we spot one of those buggers. Let's give 'em hell!" He took a nip from his hip flask, more as a ritual for luck than for the liqueur. "Everyone ready?" He then looked at the door to see if it was locked and to see if anyone may have rigged it with a trap. Rolls unseen by player:
Eponine has a holy symbol. Do we know what deity?
If anyone has any detect spells, please keep them active if you can. We don't know if these things radiate magic, but they might. Any kind of detect evil would probably light them up like a funeral pyre. If so, it wouldn't hurt to take a look at these folks by the barricade.
Ember nods at Gladiola's initiative, turns and beckons those holding back. "Fortune favors the bold. Let's stick together. We almost killed one back there and we were at a distinct disadvantage. If we unite, we can take out some of these things and get some revenge for what was done to us." He nudges Campre to move forward to clear the doorway and waits for the others to enter the hallway. While he waits, he lights any torches or lamps in the sconces along the hallway. He uses light as a kind of shield, beating back the darkness and the horrors that wait therein. Before the group heads down the hall, he turns and calls back to those behind the barricade, "Remember, we say 'poppies,' and if you don't say 'fertilizer,' we'll attack you with the fury of an Ustalav thunderstorm."
Just curious, does Campre pronounce his name like Kam-prey or Kam-pur?
"Your memory's playing tricks on you. We didn't kill it; just drove it away. But come to think of it, we might need to look through the bodies at the chute. Might be a shifter mixed in with the lot. But let's hunt them down the hallway." "Sounds fair to me," Ember called out as he stuck he head cautiously into the hallway to see the situation and let them see who was talking. He gave them his best smile. "I would be suspicious if you were trusting. If you were 'shifters, you'd try to get us to drop our guard. So we'll bring back some corpses. Just to let you know who we are, how about we work the word 'poppies' into our first greeting and you work the word 'fertilizer' somewhere into your reply. If dopps get either of us in the meantime, they won't know to say these things, at least assuming they don't get into people's heads and memories." Given what we've been through, that might be exactly what they can do, Ember thought morbidly. "Campre, what's down that way?" Ember asked poking his rapier down the dark hallway opposite the barricade.
Thanks and good luck. I've been busy of late and not keeping up as I should. It won't bother me to take a short break.
Ember shadows Campre, keeping the orderly between him and the crossbows. "Perhaps they know, as we know, that there are shapeshifters in the place. They shouldn't trust you and you shouldn't trust them, just because one of you recognizes the other. All we really need is a way out of here and advice on what dangers lurk in the shadows. What's causing these tremors, for instance." As an afterthought, he adds, "Name's Ember, by the way. Wrongly committed, my family eager to reward anyone who helps me get free, at your service, ... up to a point." With the last word, he lifts his cutlass to indicate the point he is referring to.
Ember keeps pace with Campre, following him to the door and keeping his cutlass at the ready. After Gladiola confronts the folks behind the barricade, Ember yells, "We know there is evil that can assume any face it wants. So no tricks! We're jumpy as cats and will show no mercy if attacked!" To Campre, he says, "Why don't you show your face to them and see if they recognize you?" He prods him from behind with the hilt of is cutlass.
I think I would like to use a mote of time to see if it can make the difference in the will roll.
So he still failed the roll. He tried to use the mote to steal away the memories of the climb, but there was too much trauma to remove.
If it won't spoil things with metagaming, please give a heads up if a saving throw is part of a sanity check. Ember can augment his saving throw using his mote of time ability. I would have used that on his earlier will roll if I had realized what was at stake.
"Good as dead. Got it," Ember repeats gravely, still staring at Campre. "We're as ready as we're going to be, let's go," he adds to the others.
GM: It also fits well with his drawback of being paranoid.
Ember, so eager to push ahead earlier, now holds back. So talkative down below, now is quiet and somber. He stands next to or just behind Creighton, staring at the man intently. He keeps his cutlass drawn. "Gladiola, if you want to take the lead, go ahead. I'll keep an eye on our guide, Master Linweigh, here," Ember says, not taking his eyes off the man. GM: Directed toward Campre. If appropriate, Ember will try to intimidate Campre with his stares and staying vigilant about everything Campre says and does. If you want going forward, he'll take ten on both Sense Motive and Intimidate toward Campre, whom he suspects is a Doppelganger.
As Ember enters the room and sees all the bodies, he feels the blood falling from his brain and down to his feet. He gags at the smell and fumbles in his pocket for a handkerchief. He opens a small bag from his pack and pours some coffee grounds into the handkerchief, wraps the grounds so the handkerchief holds it in one spot and ties it around his face, so the powder dampens the awful stench from the bodies. This also distracts him from the awful possibilities of what had killed all these people. He offers the coffee to anyone else who wants to do the same trick. As soon as he has dealt with the smell, he hustles toward the stairs. Seeing that way block, he doubles back, not waiting for the back markers get back down and pushes on to the tunnel. His heart sinks as he sees it too blocked. When Rahde asks for a push, Ember doesn't wait for anyone else. He takes a deep breath and begins to climb up the pile of bodies, saying "Follow me, unless you like the company down here," he says, trying for more bravado than he feels.
Panic rises in his gullet, but he keeps climbing, focusing on the task at hand, singing softly to further distract himself.
Happy New Year. I came across this web site that contains a wide variety of sound effects, background music and more. I know Franti sometimes posts theme music and background music. Example: Insane laughter The site is called Sound Dogs. Link here: Insane laughter http://www.sounddogs.com/sound-effects.asp While the site is designed to sell the sounds effects, but one can download the samples.
Ember looks everyone over, once it seems all are ready to set out. "Gladiola, is it? You seem the most capable should we have to fight again. Would you lead the way? I'll back you up. The rest of you fall in as you wish. Master Linweigh, stay in the middle and give us directions for the best way to find the way out of this hell hole. If anyone prays to a god or goddess, now might be a good time to say a prayer." Cutlass in hand, Ember waits for Linweigh's instructions on which way to go next. General perception roll at the door to hear sounds or see evidence of anyone/anything beyond the door.
"I'll wager some shared enemy of ours cursed us with being deaf and dumb and used that as a way to have us committed. Given my standing in noble circles, I'd further wager we were being held hostage or some plot to keep me from an inheritance or from interfering in some family business. In any case, we weren't really crazy, just victims of some scam. They further affected our memories. We just need to find someone with the appropriate magical spells and these effects can be removed." "Looks like we're in the furnace rooms. Protect me and I'll guide you outta here, understand? I live, we all live. Think ya can remember that one?" Ember stuffs what extra items remain from the chest into his backpack and then draws his cutlass, swishes it through the air a few times as if limbering up his right arm. Then he holds the cutlass to his forehead in a sort of salute and swishes the cutlass to point toward the door out of which the other two left. "I will defend your life with my own. Lead on, Master Linweigh!" He glances around at the others. "We ready?"
Ember changed tack. He drifted away from the women, leaving them to threaten or cajole cooperation from the guy from the table. He walked over to Rivas and extended a hand. "Any day you get killed and live to tell about it, is a good day. It's possible we're all crazy, but let's work from the assumption we are not and make the world prove us wrong. And if you think and things happen, well, just direct those kind of thoughts at our crazy doctor. Ah, our former patient seems to be talking. Let's hear what he has to say." After learning about the chests, Ember eagerly inspects the contents. Certain items seem to draw his hand, particularly a well balanced dagger. He pulled a suit of leather armor out, a backpack, and a belt loaded with weapons, including a cutlass, a club and a throwing ax. He set about putting the armor on and then strapping the weapons to his belt. He checked the backpack sighed pulled a hip flask out, saying, "Thank you Abadar." He took a swig, then another to keep the first one company, snorted in satisfaction, and stashed the flask in a pocket on his vest. "That's better. I just don't feel myself breaking out of an asylum where all the doctors have gone mad, without my gear." He double checked his pack and located number of tools used by thieves to pick locks and disable traps. He tucked these into a number of pockets hidden in his clothes.
Ember tucks the holy water flask in his belt and the bag in a back pocket. "Eponine, Rhade, please to meet you. Let's start by telling each other what we are good at. Memories may return, but we need to get organized and find a way out of here while we can. Eponine, I assume you are some kind of cleric or oracle or some such. Rahde, I saw you wrinkle your brow and that doctor screamed like you had poked a knitting needle into her brain. I'm pretty good with locks if I have the right tools and handy with a sword. I'm also pretty charming when I want to be." He regards Rivas on the floor. "You seem pretty good at cowering. Anything else?" As people respond to his questions, he begins to sidle over to where Gladiola is questioning the poor beggar from the operating table.
"Get a grip, fella," Ember says to Rivas. "As you can see, hallucinations of my death were highly exaggerated, although that last one felt too real," he adds, rubbing his chest where the 'doctor' ripped his flesh. "If that creature that was 'operating' on him," Ember gestures to the man Rivas freed from the table, "can change her form, she can probably cause us to have nightmares and gods know what else. Let's just get out of here. She's still at large so what say we find her and get her to do some explaining before she gets reinforcements." He looks around for something that could serve as a light source, a detachable torch or lamp. He'll also circle the room looking in dark corners and the furnace for anything useful.
Ember's recurring nightmare was interrupted by a surge of bright light that burned away the fog and then blinded him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Eponine's face, with her distinctive duo-toned eyes, looking troubled. "Have I died and gone to heaven?" he mumbled sincerely. He sat up, noting the pain in his gut had not gone away completely. "Angels do exist! Thank you." he enthused and set a hand on her shoulder, ostensibly as a gesture of gratitude but also to reassure himself she was real. He stood and looked around. Seeing the cell door open and his recent cell mates free, he strolled out, instincts kicking in to force himself to hide his fear and pretend to be in control.
Taking in the situation, Ember looked over the tray of torture devices, picking out the best improvised weapon he could and then anything that might make a good lock pick. "Name's ...Ember," he said, taking but an extra heartbeat to think of his name. He walked over to the bags and opened one that looked familiar. Seeing the ring, he pulled it out and slipped it on his finger. "I meant what I said earlier. I expect we've been kidnaped probably to get money out of my old man, assuming he did not commit me in the first place. Point is, he'll have someone working on getting us out, but we may as well meet them halfway." He sniffed the flask of holy water and stoppered it. "Figures they'd take my brandy and leave holy water instead."
Ember lost consciousness of the cell and fell back into dreams and visions. He struggled to understand why he kept getting attacked and killed. Someone must have figured out his secret. He wasn't sure what that secret was, but he seemed to know that when he got into trouble it was because someone found out he wasn't what he claimed to be. He could deal with that, but now he sensed he may have gotten others into trouble. This caused some turmoil. He struggled to understand it and then he thought, perhaps this is that conscience thing he's heard others talking about. Bad time to grow one, just when it appeared he would need to do unpleasant things to survive. He tamped it down and then thought he heard voices.
Ember's Bag: Studded leather, buckler, Dagger, club, throwing axe, cutlass, Thieves' tools, sunrod (x5), Tobacco and pipe, ground coffee, signet ring, backpack, holy water, Hat with feather in it, hip flask with brandy in it.
Ember is also bleeding out.
Since the doctor was attacking Ember through the bars of the cell, any chance he could get +4 to his AC for cover?
"Not again!" Ember said and looked over at the woman now retreating to the back of the cell, as the beast masquerading as a doctor ripped into his chest with claws more frightening than any of the implements on the table. A jumble of images tumbled out of his dusty memory closet. "W-Why would - why would you ...?" Did he say that or was that a memory. All then faded to black.
"I'm better at picking locks than pockets, but looks like I'll need the key for this baby," Ember murmured in response to Rhade, tapping the lock with a knuckle. When the doctor was kicked into reach, Ember was quick to react, saying to Gladiola, "Grab her! I'll get the keys." Then to Rhade he added, "See if you can get those shears."
As Ember's hand began to reach for the keys, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and he saw in a flash in which direction she was going to move in the next instant, allowing him to move his had toward where he now knew the keys would be.
GM:
Any info on the sense motive checks on Davian and the doctor? I can roll for myself, but as GM my preference is the make the roll in secret so the player gets no metagaming clues from knowing the roll was very good or very bad or just average.
But I will make the rolls under this spoiler and not look at the results.
Ember will begin to check his pockets for anything that could be used for a lock-pick. Ember whispered to Gladiola, "Got anything I can use as a lock pick?" While the doctor is distracted with the shears and Davian is facing the other cell, Ember will attempt to pick the lock, if there is a lock to pick. He winks at Pas Pas. "Who needs keys when you have me?"
GM: Ember has a pick-pocket's outfit. Item description: "Outfitted with concealed pockets, this clothing gives you a +2 bonus on hiding small objects on your person." If he still has this on, it is likely that his thieve's tools would be hidden in these pockets. Let me know if he still has anything on him that he could use to pick the lock of the cell.
He doesn't (yet) have any ranks in sleight of hand, but if he can make a default roll to see how well concealed his items are in his outfit, here it is: . If he is doing the hiding when he is alone and getting dressed, I would assume he can take 20, which would give him a result of 20 + 2 + 2 = 24. Also, when you said we do not have any equipment, I assumed that meant his signet ring was missing. Let me know if he still has that, perhaps in one of the pockets of his outfit. |