Harrol the Pilgrim's page

"It's a..." Harrol stops himself and turns a bright shade of crimson. "It's, ah, no word for a lady's ears, now..."

I'd only heard it used in the context of "fool" or "jerkbag" but turns out it has another, more uh... southerly definition. Also an awesome use of Open/Close there.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Harrol pads to L3, and with a sharp intake of breath lets a slingstone fly at the wounded cultist. Turning to the eastern doorway, his eyes widen. "By th'Inheritor! More of these gowls on the way! Watch your backs, there now!"

Slingstone + Adaptable Luck + Point Blank + Halo: 1d20 + 8 + 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 8 + 2 + 1 + 1 = 18
Damage: 1d8 + 1 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 + 1 + 1 = 4

Point Blank Shot, Alchemists Fire, Touch: 1d20 + 10 - 6 ⇒ (14) + 10 - 6 = 18
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Follow up: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Harrol lobs his alchemists fire at the nearest cultist (I4). Just realized a terrible mistake in the downtime, that Harrol has been using Rapid Shot rather frequently, a feat he doesn't have until next level. Playing two ranged clerics on the boards just confused the heck out of me, and there's probably been at least half a dozen instances of that slipping under the radar. I apologize profusely for not realizing my slip up sooner!

Oh, that's right. My mistake. I'll move to P4 and cast it on the altar instead.

"Goddess! Aid me!" he shouts, clutching his holy symbol and casting silence on one of their helmets. [b]"Not even your demon lords can hear you now, blasphemers!"

Not sure where this is going to sit on the "sparing us from summons and spiritual weapons" and "gimping Joneth" spectrum, so let me know for future reference.

"I know y'er speakin' sense and all, Miss Fairday, but I'd be feelin' a damned sight better if we jes' said a few words." he says, starting as eyes turn to him. He clears his throat and wrings his hands, reaching into his robe and sprinkling holy water around the room, the aroma mingling for a moment with the smell of blood and smoke.

"Eternal rest grand unto them, O Inheritor, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of all your faithful departed, fallen here this day, see justice done from the next life."

Somberly, he hefts up the morningstar. "I've a mind to start bashing something thoroughly, all right. Let's press on."

With the first demon felled and Joneth sustaining ever more rooms, Harrol suddenly rushes into the breach, holy symbol in hand. "Stand fast, ye valiants, with the legions of heaven at y'er backs."

Move to Q11, Converting silence to cure moderate wounds: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (5, 7) + 4 = 16

Sounds good to me.

Slingstone (no cover assuming a clear shot through the doorway): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

"That's done it, Commander!"

Cold Iron, until I run out. I'll start keeping track. I've fired 5 so far I believe.

Slingstone (soft cover + adaptable luck): 1d20 + 10 - 4 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 10 - 4 + 2 = 18
Damage: 1d3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Joneth should be spared the first two of those claw attacks thanks to Harrol's shield of faith.

"Mister Joneth! I don't think you should-" Harrol starts, as the magus breaks ranks and is harried by a vicious counterattack.

As Theodric casts his defensive spell, Harrol will follow suit, warding Gregori and Joneth with shield of faith. (4 mins) "Take, ye, the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked."

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Harrol responds to the desecration of his goddesses shrine with a sharp kick to the dead tiefling in the chamber. Fuming and tears in his eyes, he sees to piling up the bodies as best as his small frame can, channeling his goddesses light when he's well clear of the bodies.

Channel Energy: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 4) = 9
Channel Energy: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 2) = 3
Channel Energy: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7

"Let's be movin' on now so. I want to be havin' a few choice words with these demons."

Harrol lets out a cry of pain, nearly folding under the blow. He pales as he watches his lifeblood spilling by his feet, reeling for a moment. The weight of the holy symbol around his neck is enough to remind him of the stakes. He plucks himself up and drives his dagger into one of the fiendspawn.

Dagger: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Damage: 1d3 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Attack, to clarify.

Aid Another for Joneth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Miss Chance: 1d100 ⇒ 22

Harrol beams at Eudocia's praise, drawing his dagger and moving to I8 to get stuck into the melee.

Confirm (D'oh! Silly me, I didn't notice!): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Damage: 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (1, 4) + 2 = 7

Harrol will five-foot step into the foyer, letting two slingstones fly at the lone tiefling. "Oh no you don't!"

Rapid Shot: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Rapid Shot: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Harrol's hand shoots to his own face, a spark of worry flashing over his features as he forces a smile and falls in step behind Gregori.

"Well, I'm all fer that, but..." the halfling looks at the disgusting, oozing bags of flesh at his feet. "The blighters are a little big for me to carry." Harrol turns at the melodic chime. "You're some smart feller, alright. That's gone and done it! Let's bust that door open."

Harrol strains to get a grip on the too-tall door handle and gives the iron ring a mighty tug.

I'll need to hit 5th level or mooch a scroll I'm afraid. Speak with Dead is 3rd level.

Harrol gives Gregori an incredulous look. "Yew taking the mick, Commander?" he quips, alarmed at his own boldness. "I'm afraid they don't teach us none of that breakin' and enterin' business when we take our vows." He looks around at the gathering of scholars, intellectuals and men of the faith. "Ain't a scoundrel nor sneakthief to be seen in this company, but I might be small enough to slip past those demons. If yew give me a boost there now I can probably fit through that there shutter."

"Some grand crusade this'd be if we were stopped by the front door."

Didn't Theodoric take that chime of opening? Might be smarter to put that to use because I have no guarantee Harrol can open that door from the other side.

Harrol lets out a woop of triumph, hand shooting to his mouth as he mumbles apologetically to Eudocia. "I'll... follow your lead, ma'am."

Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Magic Stone (Rapid Shot): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Damage: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (3, 3) + 2 = 8
Magic Stone (Rapid Shot): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (6, 6) + 2 = 14

Harrol will advance 10ft to eliminate the range penalty and let two more magic bullets fly.

Cold Iron Sling (magic stone): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28
Damage: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (6, 2) + 3 = 11

Harrol nods, startled when Eudocia mentions his name. "Gotcha. We've potions enough there so, so oi'll not be holding back!" he chirps, before readying himself and sending a slingstone flying.

Harrol will use his scroll of magic stone before signalling his readiness to the group, sending an enhanced slingstone flying. (I'll use a cold iron bullet if possible, but the spells description is pretty unclear about whether I can do so or not.)

Perhaps Eudocia could take the alchemical items? Harrol can use them as well, but I think I helped myself to the last batch of Alchemists Fire.

Which leaves me with the cure potion and the antitoxin. Adding to my profile.

Harrol stares at the crusaders with barely disguised wonder as they make their silent trudge through the city. A far cry from the gleaming, white-cloaked knights that rode under Lastwall's banners, these men are dirty and downtrodden, but no less awe-inspiring.

Harrol is visibly unnerved by Eudocia's words, glad that for now at least, some distance lies between the party and these monstrosities. "What's our plan of attack?"

Harrol's ears burn red as he realizes that the commander is looking at him. "My aching feet can wait, ma'am. There're bigger things at stake. I can be ready in a jiff, just give the word."

Channel Energy: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 3) = 8

"Oh!" Harrol says, snatching up his holy symbol and glancing at Joneth's wounds. He murmurs a quick prayer to Iomedae, the sword and sunburst gleaming through his fidgeting fingers as a strange stirring sensation lingers in your hearts. A call to valor.

Harrol is moved to tears by Irabeth's euology for the fallen crusaders, mingled with tears of joy that the halfling can't quite explain. He fumbles for Telrendev's scale and wipes his eyes on his sleeve, voice welling with emotion as he steps up to Gregori's side. "Iomedae doesn't afford us smallfolk many chances for valor, Master Gregori. If oi ran away now, I'd never be able ter forgive meself." the halfling says, trying to look stoic. "While this heart still beats in me chest, oi'll not give up hope."

Harrol grimaces at the task ahead of them, but seems remarkably undaunted. He nods. "Right... an' this someone is ter be us, now so?"

Clutching his holy symbol absentmindedly, Harrol looks to Gregori in silent expectation.

"F-... fine!" Harrol says, dropping the Holy Symbol at once, wincing as it clatters to the floor, and gathering it up again in a strip of sackcloth and trying to rub it clean, murmuring an apologetic prayer. He frowns at the defiled holy symbols and carefully gathers them all up. "Let's 'ope this means them that carried these are still alive." he says, with unwavering optimism. "Should... should we head back to the inn and see if we can find another lead?"

Fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Harrol will reach into the chest and grasp one of the holy symbols. ... like a fly to honey.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Harrol presses his hands to Joneth's side, nervously stammering a short mantra to the Inheritor before taking a few steps back from the man with the black blade.

Harrol fumbles in his healers kit for a glass vial, head clouded by the stench of blood and vomit, but draws away from the sight of Theodric's red eyes. "... are, are you alright?"

To be clear there were no other doorways in the basement, right? Harrol will search the chest and see what this creature was guarding. Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Point Blank Shot: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Spiritual Weapon: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21 Last Round!
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

"Mister Joneth! Hold on!" Harrol says, continuing his assault from afar.

Point Blank Shot: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Spiritual Weapon: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Force Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Harrol casts a despaired glance at his comrades, but unable to help them, sets his jaw and lets another slingstone spinning toward the creature, as his blade of force manages to nick it from behind.

Yes it does! Reading comprehension fail. It lists the damage before it does the attack roll, and I tend to play more martial orientated clerics. It doesn't seem to add any other bonuses save my wisdom and BAB, so it's actually quite a low hit chance as well, but at least the force damage should penetrate DR.

Spiritual Weapon: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

... well, maybe next round.

Will: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Harrol, undettered, reaches for his wand, clutching it above his head as a glowing longsword and sunburst materialise, the symbol of Iomedae. He levels the spiritual weapon at the plant creature and lets it fly.

Force Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Sling (point blank, holy light): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17 13 w/ soft cover
Damage (point blank, holy light): 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Following suit Harrol takes his position behind Gregori, reaching for his sling, for his sling, eyes narrowing as he lets a stone fly at the creature. "B-b... back to the pit, fiend!" he manages, but the little halflings meek voice is nearly drowned out by the echoing drone of the demon lord.

Fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
How far can we see through the smoke?

Harrol stops short of the chest, and unsure of what to do with his hands, folds them into his robe and bows out of the way. "Sorry! Sorry!"

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Harrol stares back up the basement stairway. "Sounds like our lads are leaving." he observes, scratching the back of his head. He pads up to the box and tests the lock. "What'd'yew think's in here?"

Perception (Search): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Nodding guilelessly and shrugging, Harrol waddles up to the looter. "Right! Well! Have a lovely day then." he beams, amidst the frenzy of smoke, screams and brimstone.

"We'll just be on our way."

Suddenly aware I haven't prepared my spells today. Amending my profile now.

Whichever way we go Harrol will use his Touch of Glory on either Eudocia or Gregori to give them a +6 to the roll.

"Yew see? There's 'ope yet. The wardstones still hold, and Iomedae's crusaders will drive those demons back." Harrol says, beaming his agreement to Eudocia. He taps his worn copy of the Acts, hanging from his belt "When the Inheritor fought to free the city of Eleder she told onto the people of that far-off place: "We glory in tribulation, knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope. With hope we are unstoppable, as the fire of valor burns ever in our hearts." he says, earnestly, but his sudden fire is followed by a sleepy yawn. He blushes. "... gods above, I'm wreeeecked."

Groggily, Harrol allows himself to be led off to an empty chamber, and is soon snoring soundly. I haven't had a chance to puzzle out Harrol's budget aside from a rough four way split of the loot (unfortunately the math is on my desktop at home and I'm to be on campus all week doing a play) but I'd like to buy two demon bane slingstones and spend what's left on some first level scrolls. Just announcing my intentions here before the game moves on without me!

Should we simply split the coin/trade goods four ways? Harrol would like to purchase some scrolls, and possibly some enchanted sling bullets if that could be arranged. First week back at uni and I've been dipping my toes into student theatre, but I'll iron out my purchases/profile before the week's out.

I've been using the average from here on out? Should I start rolling or stick with that? hp roll?: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

"All business as usual, Miss Fairday." Harrol manages through a mouthful of bread. "'m Harrol." he offers with a shrug, before dusting the crums off his worn robes and clearing his throat. "This is Eudocia Fairday of the Kitharodian Academy, Theodoric Abernathy, our wizard, and Gregori Shadowbane, our commanding officer, in a manner of speaking..." he says, excitedly. "Pleased to meet ye, Joneth!"

He stares at the outlandish looking man with barely concealed fascination, although it does nothing to dampen his good-natured halfling courtesy.

"So, what kind of notions 'ave these cultists got into their thick skulls... concernin' Kenabres and all? What's to be our next move?"

Hrm, I'm surprised how much playing an ignorant PC leaves me feeling just as ignorant as a player. I've only the barest grasp on what's going on at the moment. I'd like to blame our hiatus but honestly I think it's just a lack of investment on Harrol's part. Although "plucky sidekick" is all I ever set out to be, I suppose that doesn't have to be a bad thing. P.S. Welcome to the game, Joneth!

Harrol for the most part nods silently as Gregori recounts their tale, content to let the big folk sort out such matters. His eyes light up at the mention of hot stew, and he frequently glances toward the kitchens.