Gromdal Forgehammer's page

I'm ready.

"What's the going rate for a copy?" Gromdal asks.

Gromdal relinquishes his weapons with a scowl and agrees to this 'cleaning up' thing. He is dismayed that it involves soap and nearly stalks out, but with a murmured prayer for patience, he does so.

"No evil currently here, but it sure decorated evil. Runes are probably some evil thing cackling about being evil. Making evil plans. Evil vacation plans, most like. Darn things are always taking evil vacations." Gromdal nods as he pontificates in his squeaky voice.

Gromdal moves up as soon as Meng is being tended to, and looks inside. "Hmph. Evil looking room." He detects evil in the room, just to be sure.

Religion: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Gromdal nods grimly, while he unslings his axe. "Indeed. Foul things are afoot here!" He rushes to Meng's side, and calls out, "Healing! This man needs healing!"

Gromdal watches Anastasia, then follows after! Reflex: 1d20 ⇒ 20

"Hmph. Just like a human, all hurries and haste. Walk across a rotten bridge rather than take the time to tear it down and rebuild it right. No sense of patience." Gromdal's squeaky grumpy voice intones as he shakes his head at the lack of patience among the lesser races of Golarion.

"Give me a forge and a week and I'll make you a crossing to outlast this city, but as we're low on time..." Gromdal looks around for materials to create a crossing.

Know Engineering: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

"Hmph. That's what comes of using wood. Stone, metal, these don't let you down." Gromdal's high pitched voice is at odds with his grumpy stony face.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 9 "Looks like an attic alright. Yep, attic shaped and all."

"Hmph. Evil wizards doing evil deeds. Maybe the whole place should be burnt to the ground, just to be sure." He mutters to himself, shaking his head at the weird way these surface-dwellers continue to let evil places stand without proper purification.

"Attic? Aren't the really evil relics usually kept in the basement, customarily?" Gromdal peers at the elf, wondering how evil he might be...

Gromdal eyes the elf. "Apologize all you want, but the human's got the right of it. Dreng sent us to sort out the issues. Also, didn't your mother ever tell you if you keep making that face, it's gonna freeze that way?"

"Hmph. Silly wizard went and got trapped. So we just get him back? Sounds easy enough."

Gromdal tromps in, peering at everyone from his thick eyebrows. "So. Back at the pathfinderin', eh? Zhao. You're not dead. Good to see." His voice is squeaky and high, and he looks underfed for a dwarf, almost like someone stuffed a bookworm into armor. But he does seem a bit more hale than last time. Perhaps the sun agreed with him?

Gromdal arrives!

"Threatening them what saved your town?" Gromdal mutters. "Not impressed with dragons, no sir."

"Hmph. Dragon, are you?" The dwarf glares at the golden menace. "They come bigger than you?"

Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

"Diabolic runes! Designed to protect the double giant from a dragon! Good thing it's good and double dead! Now, I'm gonna put my innards back together. Anyone else need a good healing?

From the floor Gromdal groans. "I hate double giants." He begins to cast defensively! Cast Defensively, Burning Hands, DC 17: 1d20 + 1 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 1 + 4 = 17

FIRE, REFLEX DC 15 half: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Gromdal lets out a shriek of pain, which turns to a warcry! "I HATE DOUBLE GIANTS!" He lashes back at the double-giant!

Greataxe, Inspired: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 + 1 = 12 for 1d12 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4 damage!

Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

"Those runes? They will prevent the Dragon from harming this creature! But not us!"

"ANGRADD!" Gromdal squeak screams and charges the ettin!

CHARGE! Angradd's Valor: 1d20 + 1 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 + 2 = 6 for 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8 damage!

+4 dodge bonus vs Giants

Gromdal shakes his head. First they don't have beards as children and now they can't even see in the dark?!? How are there so many of these humans around? Wouldn't the wolves have gotten them by now?

"Left. Good solid direction. Dwarven direction." he squeaks.

Sense the Motives: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14 Gromdal nods. "ANGRADD forgives those with regret in their hearts and a desire to make amends. Even the worst crimes can earn forgiveness if you truly desire it. And work your butts off for it."

"The power of ANGRADD compels you! Speak the truth or feel the wrath of my axe!" Gromdal squeaks in a vaguely menacing fashion.

"FIEND" Gromdal's voice squeaks out in outrage! Gromdal stalks past the kid and tries to attack the tiefling, ignoring any attacks of opportunity he may incur!

Greataxe, lethal, inspired: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 + 1 = 22 for 1d12 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 + 1 = 11 damage!

Gromdal pulls himself to his full height of very short. He thunders forth the word, "DROP". Command on Orange, Will DC 15 or drop whatever he is holding.

Still screaming ANGRADD Gromdal charges the Orange Boy, greataxe held high and mighty!

CHARGE! Trait bonus, -4 Nonlethal Penalty, charge bonus!: 1d20 + 1 + 1 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (5) + 1 + 1 + 2 - 4 = 5 for 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 nonlethal greataxe whacking damage!

Gromdal double moves closer to the foes, screaming "ANGRADD!" in a slightly high-pitched, out of breath voice.

Gromdal cries out. "AMBUSH!" And draws his greataxe!

Sorry, busy season for me at work.

"Not encouraging. Downright evil sounding if you ask me!" Gromdal starts rubbing the haft of his greataxe over his shoulder.

[ooc]I'll take a sap. Do they have blunt bolts, too?/ooc]

"Indeed. No oaths against interference, though. I think interference is required as a pathfinder. Might be why they kept calling us 'interfering pathfinders' in Absalom."

Gromdal looks at the others. "We can look into this matter. We took no oaths."

Perception DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 Gromdal stares at the children. He's never seen children with such little facial hair. It's unnatural.

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 7 "But you were telling that Dwarven woman someone cheated. How's that work?"

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Gromdal nods at Valentina. "I'm Gromdal. Pleasure. We ought to see about them, sure." He follows Indalis closer to the white-haired woman.

"Say, ma'am. I wonder if you could tell us what the fuss is over?"

Diplomacy Untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Gromdal wander closer to the gilt statue of the dragon, admiring it and wondering whether it depicts anyone actual.

Gromdal is amenable to sharing a room. Space is tight underground, after all.

Gromdal spends the dinner watching the room. He's not wary, just very very new to the outside world and he finds it both fascinating and frightening in a way. He eats the stew without comment, but makes a face at the ale. "They call this ale? We bathe in such liquid! Ach, this world is full of strangeness, by Angradd's guarding hand!"

Gromdal nods. "I met Morgan just as I was leaving my home in the Five Kings Mountains. I was nervous and alone and he spun such tales of the world, that rang with truth! that I could not help but be in wonder. Then he spoke of this 'Society' that traveled the world and helped to right wrongs and seek lost history, and I thought, 'A people like that must be who I am meant to join' and so I did. Now I am here, and I am grateful for Morgan's aid in joining." Gromdal looks slightly embarrassed to have spoken so much.

The dwarf is skinny for a dwarf, which means he's probably about average for any other race. He's shaved bald on top of his head, with a short cropped brown beard and piercing blue eyes. His skin is pale, so it's obvious he's not an outdoorsy type. He wears shiny black armor that hasn't seen an enemy's blade, with red and orange robes over top. He carries a greataxe, but it's so unused that it might as well still have a price tag.

He just looks untested and young, a bookworm gone into the world.

He clears his throat. "My name is Gromdal Forgehammer, of the church of Angradd. I... I have been sent into the overworld to serve Angradd and the Pathfinder Society. May His Axe and His Fire protect us."