His Majesty, Sir Quinton's page

"Oh, yes, perhaps we should spend some time together, Chirrit. I can tell you all about it!" Sir Quinton says, pocketing the compass cover after giving his thanks to Janira.

"Let me just ..." he looks around and picks up a stake -- wooden, not filet steak -- and rejoins the kobold. "A few days would be lovely."

He spends the next several days making sure the kobold does not grow more fangs or turn into a vampire. "Yes, garlic does wonders for the circulation!"

Yeah, lots of fun, thanks.

Doesn't look like the chronicles (or mine, at least) have the reporting notes checked off.

"Er, yes, indeed. Or Eddie said he has a snack for him. I think something more solid might be better, so there's no confusion about whether it's blood or not," he says.

Still, he pulls out a minor healing potion school item and offers it up in case the gnome's snack turns out to be simply a purloined hors d'oeuvre.

He looks around to make sure no more undead are coming for them. Liches, vampires, ghosts. Surely a zombie or skeleton couldn't be far away.

Someone help him!" Sir Quinton says. "I will hold off the vampire. If we're not able to restore him, a wooden stake to the chest. It will be a mercy!"

He then brings his magicked blade to bear again on the undead monstrosity before him, but he's so shaken by his kobold's imminent transformation into a fanged horror that he just swings wildly before raising his shield to protect himself.

Action 1: ◈ Strike
Action 2: ◈ Strike
Action 3: ◈ Raise Shield (+2 AC)

Excalibur! vs green: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 8 + 1 = 10

Excalibur! vs green: 1d20 + 8 + 1 - 5 ⇒ (7) + 8 + 1 - 5 = 11

"Quickly, to Chirrit, before the thing can drain him of blood!" Sir Quinton rallies his companions, stepping around the blinded vampire to attack the one holding the kobold.

His blade cuts deep -- almost too deep, as he can't quite pull it out cleanly enough to put any strength behind the next swing.

Action 1: ◈ Step
Action 2: ◈ Combat Assessment
Action 3: ◈ Strike

Excalibur! vs Black: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 1 = 22
Slashing: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (7, 2) + 3 = 12
Religion (untrained) to Recall Knowledge: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (6) + 0 = 6

Excalibur! vs Black: 1d20 + 8 + 1 - 5 ⇒ (7) + 8 + 1 - 5 = 11
Slashing: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (7, 3) + 3 = 13

"My thanks," Sir Quinton nods to Drakmak and then turns to the incoming horrors.

"Beware creatures," he declares. "My blade is like until the fabled Swords of Conviction now! Run while you still can!"

Seeing they seem disinclined to take his suggestion, he locks his shield arm into position and then closes in, blade flashing!

Seeing the blade cut deep, Sir Quinton realizes these are in fact not liches at all. "Careful, Pathfinders, it appears we fight vampires today!"

Action 1: ◈ Raise Shield (+2 AC)
Action 2: ◈ Stride
Action 3: ◈ Combat Assessment vs. pink

Excalibur!: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 8 + 1 = 29 That'll do, dice bot, that'll do
Slashing: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (3, 5) + 3 = 11
Religion (untrained) to Recall Knowledge: 1d20 + 0 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 0 + 2 = 3 Dicebot gives, and Dicebot takes

Registration still looks good.

"This doesn't sound good!" Sir Quinton says, raising shield and sword as he prepares for the onslaught. "In case we don't remember this later, it was good working with you all!"

Haha. Indeed. Also, strangely confused character is *my* shtick. I'll appreciate you not trying to appropriate it!

"Settle down!" Sir Quinton says, rushing in to help.

Action to move to Uncle Good Good, then will try to Grapple him.
Athletics (trained): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16 I think that should be a success: Your target is grabbed until the end of your next turn unless you move or your target Escapes.

Now let's see if I need a Will save too...

Sir Quinton spins around. "What in the world are you all doing? Come along now, we have to finish exploring!"

He turns back, assuming the others will follow as he continues his investigation.

"Well done, Eddie," Sir Quinton exclaims, as he steps carefully lest anymore undead get their clutches on him. "It appears this place truly is haunted. Let's hope that's the last of them, though."

He will lead the group to the next room, stepping carefully. Agreed. Room to the south; I put my fig just inside.

"We should finish exploring up here first, though I think none of us is likely to get any sleep tonight. If you must, though, I will stand guard!"

"Let us check the rest of the upstairs before we descend," Sir Quinton suggests, leading the group back across the hall. Assuming everyone's amenable. I figure let's go through here, then through the door in here to the left, barring any obstacles.

"Perhaps that's how we can get down to the basement," Sir Quinton notes. He looks around from the edge, not trusting himself to not cause the area to collapse further with the weight of his armor. Looking around from the doorway; I hope someone who's a bit better at such might check for the floor's stability, or any dangerous mold, before we go in.

Perception (expert): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Seeing Eddie hasn't discovered anything, Sir Quinton rejoins Rathal, encouraging the others to follow, so they can see what might be through the door.

"It seems things can only go down from here," he notes.

"Don't head off on your own," Sir Quinton warns Rathal, head swiveling back and forth before finally deciding he should protect the odd gnome. He advances, looking for undead.

+5 Perception

Sir Quinton gulps nervously.

"The dead you say? That's horrible about the slaves, but these aren't the sort that ... drain you, are they?" he seems nervous, as if trying to remember some previous experience.

Despite his concern that more of his life could be sucked away, he advances, sword out and shield raised.

Using Defend.

Sir Quinton joins Rathal in talking with the others, sharing stories.

"Yes, and so the linnorm emerged from its cage and began to attack the circus-folk. I could hardly just stand around and let everyone die. Of course, I didn't know at the time that I would be struck by its curse, nor become royalty in the lands to the north. All of that was the furthest thing from my mind ... "

He carries on.

"But you have some knowledge of devil hauntings, in Cheliax?"

Sir Quinton waits with bated breath to hear the knight's fate, fearing the worst.

He's still hoping for an answer as the other agents finally remind him of their final mission. Ready to go

"The knight?" Sir Quinton asks, completely forgetting their news for Eando. "What happened to him?"

I'll say Drakmak and Eddie.

Thanks for the DMPC. Sorry about my delay. Busy night at work!

"Yes, I'm pretty sure you almost summoned a shadow demon, or perhaps turned this museum into an outpost of Nidal," Sir Quinton says in alarm. "Another few seconds, who knows what might have happened! I should say you need a good deal more study before you should attempt something like that again!"

The old man's mustache is almost quivering in his alarm.

"I think something's going wrong!" Sir Quinton calls as he rushes to the fray. "Quick, no one think of any monstrous golems or other creatures in case the shadows take that form! Empty your brains!"

Also unsure of his ability to help with the ritual itself -- but certain he can shadow box, Sir Quinton follows his instructions, draws his sword and rushes into the room.

Action 1: Interact to draw sword.
Actions 2 and 3: Stride (marked on map).

"Ah," Sir Quinton calls the other over. "Something in here might be of note! It appears this Tavvar is also perhaps using some other name, and calling herself Yargos Gill. I'm not sure why, but it definitely seems like it might be a clue. Perhaps so these ghosts she's summoning don't know her real name?"

Once the others have had a chance to see, he follows Rathal.

Earlier
Sir Quinton joins his fellows in asking about what might possibly going on. "Yes, there are some dreadful rituals. I heard about one once that gave a man the feet of a chicken! Dreadful! The only thing worse, I imagine, would be giving a little wooden house the feet of a chicken. I hear they do that sort of thing in Irrisen, but fortunately I've never had the mispleasure of going there, at least so far as I recall..."

Unfortunately, he seems to talk more than listen.

Diplomacy (trained): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Now
Sir Quinton, with his shield raised just in case he should need it but his sword not yet drawn, moves past the open hallway to a nearby door, and listens to see if he can hear anything from inside.

"This might be the best way to find her," he says in a somewhat hushed voice to the other.

Perception (expert): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Why dice roller, why? Sir Quinton is royalty!

I recommend Chirrit for his summation of the last few years of Golarion history. :)

"Yes, quite. I was ready with my blade, but it proved to be quite unneeded. I'm not sure I can remember the last time that happened, and certainly not with the Pathfinders," Sir Quinton admits.

"But we have much more to do, so unfortunately not much time to talk," he says, trying to usher the others out to the Puddles.

"Yes, the Puddles. I'm sure that's what they said! No, we certainly don't need to peddle there. It's very wet."

"Well done!" Sir Quinton says as he suddenly realizes there's no point to his continued search for the gorgon (or medusa, as one is almost certainly taking advantage of this situation, he's sure).

"What a barbaric tradition. Perhaps if they'd given them weapons to defend themselves, but even that. Untrained, they would likely be no match for a cockatrice chasing them!

"I wonder if we should look into freeing the others, but for now, I think this is our agent."

"Yes, a woman with snakes instead of hair. No, not with a snake in her hair, but snakes growing out of her head instead of hair. Have you seen one around?"

I don't believe there's any requirement about type of magic for talismans and who can use them.

"Good luck, man," Sir Quinton tells Laastari, wishing the monstrous figure well in the Pathfinders. He shakes his head, turning to the others. "I do believe that's the first undead I've ever been friendly with. Not a bad fellow. Did seem a bit obsessed with gold and his precious, but I'm sure nothing could go wrong."

He takes a quick bite of lunch -- "don't mind if I do!" -- but then urges the others on to action. "Let's go see if we can find that medusa and teach it a thing or two about petrifying Pathfinders, eh?"

"Do you have other friends?" Sir Quinton asks, returning to the construct. "Other people who come here and talk to you maybe?"

"Or names?" Sir Quinton ventures, considering it appears to have been stitched together from many creatures, perhaps. He tries to tell if it is in fact undead, or some sort of construct.

Arcana or Religon (both untrained) to Recall Knowledge: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 = 8

Later, he will help search around the boat, though he remains distracted by the concern there could be undead lurking anywhere.

Perception (expert): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Sir Quinton shudders as he realizes there's undead -- his nemesis -- down here, but does his best to make out what the creature wants.

Uncertain, he hefts his shield, holding his sword at the ready. "Stay back," he whispers urgently to his fellow agents.

Perception (expert): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Would have been using defend as my exploration activity.

"Ah, yes, undead. Never a favorite of mine," Sir Quinton confides to the others, seemingly confusing Nex for its archrival Geb. "Hopefully we won't find any here. It may be best to ask around and make sure we don't need to take any precautions before we go aboard."

He seeks out the nearest bar, hoping to spin some tales of some of the strange creatures he's met -- "I knew a lad, made of rock he was. Sad fellow, always carrying on about how everyone saw him as a monster, though he wasn't. There are all sorts of things out there, you know? Some of the stuff they have down south will curl your toes, they say! Not sure if any of them every make it up to Absalom, but I certainly hope none were to ever get free if they did!"

Diplomacy (trained): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Nature (trained): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Sir Quinton begins telling a story that quickly veers off into incomprehension. Finally, he wraps it up, " ... and the horse ran off with the maid!" He chuckles for a moment, before realizing he's getting little more than blank stares.

I'm starting to feel like dice-bot might have it in for ol' Sir Quinton...

"Yes, that's a fine idea, my friend," Sir Quinton agrees. "Let's see what he has to say. And then we have quite the number of tasks already. We'll have to discuss how best to deal with them."

"Quite the power it is," Sir Quinton says, with a florid bow. "You must be quite the incantatrix. Certainly, I find I'm already enchanted! This is quite the party, and you seem to have the rhythm of it well in hand already. Would you care to show us any more tricks you can make that bowl do?"

Diplomacy (trained): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

"Ah, you know the empress?" Sir Quinton says to Lady Morilla. "I should like to make her acquaintance. I feel it's only proper, having been a native Taldan before my journeys but now having my own crown. I certainly never expected to find myself in such a situation, but when one is attacked by a linnorm, one must defend himself. And so now I suppose I need to keep up diplomatic discussions and all!"

Society (trained): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6 Ah, its' early, but we'll Hero Point that.
Society (trained): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

"Ah, a problem with a medusa is it, then?" Sir Quinton asks. "I haven't had the displeasure of such a meeting, but I'm sure we can help this unfortunate Pathfinder."

As they move away, once Chirrit's question is answered, Sir Quinton looks around.

"It would be a bit churlish of us to slip out of this party -- one in our honor, after all! -- so early. The poor statue is presumably not aware enough to know if we take another hour or two, so I think we should continue to try together to make some good impressions for our class of agents. In fact, perhaps Eando Kline can give us further insight. He presumably stands vigilant against whatever might have turned our associate to stone, no?"

A quick apology for my last in-game post. I went to look today and realized I'd been ninja'd, which is why there's no skill check and somewhat out of context dialog. I'll do better going forward! (Though it sort of fits the character to be a bit off, it's not good PBP.)

Sir Quinton joins his companions, still somewhat waiting for Uncle Good Good to produce a mission. He looks around somewhat unsure of who everyone is. After all, he hadn't trained with the society -- at least as far as he knew; a little run-in with a nasty undead had done a bit of a number on his memory, though he knew he still could swing a sword -- but he was happy to be part of the group nonetheless.

"This must be one of your favorite events," he adds. "After all, it's all about meeting new people. Do you have any tips for us? Surely this old dog can still learn a few new tricks."

"There we go," Sir Quinton says. "I knew that we would get to the right place in time. I do wonder if we'll actually be rubbing elbows. I think that's a Vudran custom, something about making sure your wrists bend the right way or something."

He thinks for a moment, again making sure his mustaches look presentable.

"I wonder if we should dress for a party, or a Pathfinder mission. It can be hard to know sometimes."

"Fantastic!" an old man clad in a slightly dented breastplate exclaims, a bright expression on his weathered face as he sees you. "I was afraid I was going to be late. Had a bit of a run-in, you know. Recalcitrant horse. I do hope I have that sorted out now, though."

He runs his hand along his long, white mustaches, making sure they're in order.

"Sir Quinton, of Castle Hill and Little Scurry," he adds, introducing himself, pushing his bastard sword out of his weay. "And more recently august majesty of the Land of the Linnorm Kings, though I don't like to stand on courtesy, so please pay that no mind! Now, which if you has our mission. I stand ready and willing to fulfill it!"

He gazes around the table, trying to determine which of you might be the Venture-Captain. Finally his eyes settle on Master Good Good as the most likely option.

I'm happy with Sir Quinton's spot in the marching order.

Player name: Jacob W. Michaels
Character name: Sir Quinton (or Sir Quinton of Castle Hill and Little Scurry, and august majesty of the Land of the Linnorm Kings, if we're being formal, sir)
XP: 5
Class: Fighter
Money: 11.29 gp
Leveling Speed: Normal
PFS number: 83959-2004
Day Job: Lore (warfare) (trained): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Perception Bonus: +5
Faction: Radiant Oath

PFS School Items: Minor healing potion
Slotted Boons: None

Sir Quinton of Castle Hill and Little Scurry, and august majesty of the Land of the Linnorm Kings, will be glad to join this merry group of Pathfinders.

I've also got to whip his alias into shape, but that shouldn't take me long. Once I do that, I'll add post the full info requested. Looking forward to playing with everyone.