Findlefarb's page

I am back.

"We're the people you were sent ahead for. Your ordeals are complete. It is our task now."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Yup. With Versatile Performance, I would have a +7 instead of a +3 right now.

Work has swamped me this week, and next week I'm traveling on business (but will still check in as I can). Please bot me as necessary, and I'll go along with whatever people choose.

I'll take 4th.

Strength: 1d20 ⇒ 20

"See that? Low to the ground. Good leverage."

Findlefarb heads over and offers the end of his broom to help Aroden out.

Findlefarb goes back to whistling a tune while sweeping the floors, wondering if there's anything to learn there.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

That's even better! Pick the glowing club! C'mon, you can see which one it is while I'm juggling!

Findlefarb pulls a juggling club out of his pack, tosses it in the air, and it starts to glow as he catches it.

"Here you are, more light as you need it!"

He grabs a few more clubs and starts tossing them in the air, each lighting as he continues to juggle them. "Light, light, who needs light? I've got extra light for everyone."

Findlefarb stays by the lever. "Just say the word and I'll pull!"

Findlefarb grabs a broom and sweeps ahead of him, keeping an ear open for screams.

Ended up out for the 4th, then work piled on, but I'm out from under it now.

Knowledge(Local): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Heal: 1d20 ⇒ 15
Survival: 1d20 ⇒ 20

Looking at the corpse, Findlefarb muses, "Wait, didn't we share a round of drinks a few months back?"

Findlefarb reaches carefully into his pack, and pulls out his chicken. He lets the bird scratch and drink and fill its belly on the grubs it finds.

"Oh my, they're a bit feisty, aren't they?" Findlefarb observes maintaining Inspire Courage.

He pulls out his bow and arrows and fires at a wolf (the green one).

Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (10) + 3 + 1 - 4 = 10
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Findlefarb stirs, "Oh, by the light of Aroden, what's waking me at this hour? Oh. The light of Aroden."

Seeing the battle with the wolves, the gnome sleepily calls from his bedroll, "Oh, good! The food's arrived. Do make it quick, I have no intention of tarrying for breakfast. Oh, I'll go tend to the Everflame while you get the bacon prepared."

Stand up and inspire courage.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

I'll take last watch with Aroden.

Looking up from his bedroll, Findlefarb yawns, "Lone wolves are such sad little creatures..." and goes back to sleep.

"Illusion, most likely. Comes with the territory, nonetheless. Ah, well, all in good fun, keeps us on our toes!"

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

"Wolf? Where wolf?"

"Oh dear, we'll have to break them up," the gnome observes.

He tosses sand in the air from a hidden pouch. "Success, now rest!"

Casting sleep. Will DC 14.

"Vile orcs! Recognizable from their brutish faces, guttural whoops, peculiar pungency, and their tendency to rush to cleave your head off. Most likely because you have expressed disapproval to their brutish faces, guttural whoops, and peculiar pungency."

Findlefarb saunters forward, giving everyone a line to enjoy.

Start inspire courage. +1 attack, +1 damage morale bonuses for everyone. Also move.

My most profuse apologies. A conference ate up all my available time for the past couple days; I did not expect that. I'm back in it.

"Death! Doom! Destruction! And, of course, a heaping tankard of ale and a fresh roasted pig afterward!"

A gnome saunters into the inn, well-equipped with a full pack, and juggling a pair of clubs. "Good evening!"

Findlefarb it is! Woohoo! I can heal, too, so no problem.

Ooh, Konner! I could play Cazithiel the speed cleric instead of Findlefarb here. Konner and Caz have adventured together before.

Player Name: Wrong John Silver
Character Name: Findlefarb
PFS ID: 118418-4
Faction: Sovereign Court
Day Job: Perform(Comedy): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

I think it's more precisely "Classic" PFS (as opposed to Core), but that's what I'm designed for (not Core), confirmed.

I've got a number of first-level characters, but perhaps you'd enjoy the company of a Prankster Bard and his trusty chicken?

(Posted in the wrong thread; I'm offering Dorinta de Foche for this one.)

Thank you for running, Zinou!

(And I go buy myself a new chicken.)

Yes, I'm also at my best against beings that have minds that can be affected. Also, I originally bought the chicken because I wanted something to use with my Swap power, and just felt a chicken would be the funniest solution. But yes. Findlefarb always travels with a chicken, and it regularly proves to be useful in very unexpected ways.

"Hmm? M'lady? Oh, no, Indra, the chicken didn't really have a name. I make a point of not naming something I might eat later if necessary. Butusuallynotbytearingintoitsfleshwhilealivelikethat..."

I'm willing to leave the chest behind as well.

Joining back with the party, he heads out of the room towards the rubble. "Aha... see? I've never been steered wrong by the advice to always travel with a chicken. Chicken! What a fine, civilized thing to eat..."

It is clear he's one step from running from the entire place screaming.

With careful step, Findlefarb cautiously approaches the ghast, fully aware he might have a greater hankering for gnome instead of chicken.

Findlefarb's eyes gleam. "Why, I've got just the thing! How about a nice, juicy, tender chicken? Still living, so you know it's fresh, and you can feast without worry!"

He pulls the harried bird out to present it.

Pulling out a light juggling club, he adds, "I've used the chicken in my juggling act. But it's always a comfort to travel with an extra meal, isn't that so?"

Encouragingly, he finishes, "Would you like it?"

He carefully studies what may be in the captain's possession.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Knowledge(religion): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

Findlefarb does a silent count of the number of fingers on the captain's hands.

"Captain, you do me the honor of letting me introduce myself. My name is Fenwick Findlefarb Tippletree Woogodoo Nanoquick Balnibarbi Kruknik Whoopsalittleovertotheleftnexttime Nashizzar, the Fourth, of late the Grand High and Most Inimically Holy and Extremely Esteemed Jester of the Joyful Court of Count Razimov, and more recently under consideration of Squire for Lord Braggett Fizzlebotham IV. Count Razimov is from the far east of Avistan, so you may not have heard of him, but I can assure you that you and he would find plenty in common. I suppose, however, you would be more amused continuing to speak with my lovely traveling companion, the Lady Gahanartakee, so I'll shut up now."

Diplomacy Assist: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

It's why I'm here!

CLW on Robyyn: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

After locating and chasing down his chicken, Findlefarb looks at the door at the far wall. "I believe this may lead to what we're looking for!"

He examines the door closely.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

"Hooray! Didn't doubt our skill for a moment! Lord Braggett, allow me the honor of cleaning you up. A hero should look the part, after all!"

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

"And now, the mystery of this polypous mass. I'm surprised those ghouls were hungry, with this sitting right here... Then again, if I had that to eat, I'd likely go hungry, too. And where is my chicken?"

Findlefarb continues to try to resuscitate Robyyn, keeping a careful eye on Iqaal.

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Findlefarb whips the wand out of his sheath and uses it to heal Robyyn.

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Frowning as Robyyn remains hurt, he calls out, "Come now, who wouldn't want some nice, tasty chicken? It's so much better than our meat. Too stringy. I eat far too much beer and not nearly enough grubs."

Still inspiring courage.

"Why, a veritable explosion of undead... festering... goop. They'll never get that out of the granite."

Keeping up his running commentary, Findlefarb notes the ghouls getting ready to pounce. Visions of Robyyn being torn to shreds in a quiet moment sitting poorly in his head, the jester drops his bow and dashes forward to drag Robyyn's body back through the door.

"Sorry for breaking plan, but I doubt these creatures are going to come after us as long as there's a wonderful meal sitting in front of them... The time has come... RELEASE THE CHICKEN!"

I'm Small, but have a 10 strength. I couldn't lift Robyyn, but I can drag him. Drop the bow, move up, drag Robyyn, drop chicken.

This is what I hate about retreats in Pathfinder/D&D. The coordination required to get everyone out is so damnably difficult.

"You're right, Iqaal! The time has come! Although, let me get in position..."

Findlefarb fires a blunt arrow at the ghoul harrowing Robyyn.

Attack: 1d20 + 3 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 3 - 4 + 1 = 20
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Crit: 1d20 + 3 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 3 - 4 + 1 = 10
Crit Damage: 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (2, 3) + 2 = 7

"Well, we can be pretty sure now they aren't using their groin in the afterlife..."

The jester then moves back through the door.

He reminds me of Sir Didimus from Labyrinth, and it's great to have another gnome to play off!

Stepping out of easy biting range, Findlefarb draws his bow and speaks his mind. "Pustules? Well, that's what you get if you keep trying to bite people. I should know. I... Well, let's just say it's best to avoid the brothels of Galt."

Activating song, 5' step, draw bow.

"I'd be prone to wearing these sandals with socks, and no one wants to see that. Please, go right ahead!"

I think Agis or Robyyn would get the most use out of the sandals.

Findlefarb tries to reach the satchel and pull it out, casting mage hand if necessary to reach before sticking a hand in unknown places.

"Perhaps later. Onward we travel! What's this tree doing here?"

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"A fun fact about leeches is that they are frightfully ticklish. If you tickle their undersides, they'll disgorge all their contents. Um, no, sorry, that fact isn't fun at all."

The bard lets an arrow fly.

Maintaining IC, bow attack.

Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 1 = 12
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3