Impasha's page

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

Summoning all the dignity she can muster, laid out on a filthy slaughterhouse floor flat on her back like an overturned turtle, Impasha rolls herself stiffly over (with the aid of her shield) and gets herself up to a hands-and-knees position. From here it would be a simple thing to crawl from the black oily area of the floor, but that felt like admitting defeat. Setting her feet under herself, she rises carefully to a standing position, arms out for balance, then steps methodically from the dangerous spot.

Now on her feet again, she attempts to pick out the places where the tiny creatures have emerged from the walls, doing her best to try not to scowl too intently. Her head told her that bargaining with these creatures made some sense and might even be preferable to attacking them, even if her heart wanted to stamp on them 'til they squealed. She closes her eyes to center herself and count to 10.

Clearly the creatures wanted payment in the form of actual money. It vexed her to think of paying a toll to these wretched tricksters, but she knew that was her pride speaking. 'Humility is the handmaiden of Duty'. She briefly considered paying the creatures herself on behalf of the group, before remembering that she'd already spent nearly all her coin on her healing kit.

She reopens her eyes and exhales a deep breath, then turns her attention back to the barred area at the southeast end of the hall.

Searching. Any way through/past the bars?

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Impasha’s feet fly out from under her as she clatters to the hard ground with a grunt.

The anger comes back. ”Why you little…”

Aw, they’re cute!

Impasha’s anger fades as she sees the miserable little encampment. She looks up at the ceiling briefly, looking for the hatch to the level above, and half expecting to see someone huddled there above. Her hot feeling at being goaded and tricked with sham voices and noises now melted into feelings closer to pity. How squalid and fearful this conjuring rogue must be!

She puts away her sword and shield deliberately and raises her hands, looking around carefully as she does so.

”We wouldn’t have harmed the rats and dogs if they hadn’t attacked us first.” she tells the empty hall. ”We search this place with legitimate purpose. If you deal fairly and openly with us, you need have no fear. This I swear by Iomedae, patron of justice and honor.”

Leaving the depressed area for the others to look at, she makes her way instead to the barred area to the south.

Impasha looks about the desolate room and cautiously makes her way forward. Clearly they were being watched, but she couldn't see any obvious hiding spots. Could sewer druids make themselves invisible? She didn't know, the rules of magic were outside her experience.

The small holes in the walls seemed likely to be the work of the rats. And clearly this room was some sort of butchery hall, where slaughtered animals would be hung. The pathetic pillows and blankets were the thing that didn't belong. Was this what the voice had been protecting with its booming warnings? It hardly seemed worth the effort, but when you possess little, every possession becomes a treasure.

Moving across the room to the wretched bedding, she pokes searchingly at it with the point of her sword and pulls out her shield as well, expecting the resident spook to cause a fuss.

Search (Perception check) in and around the blankets and pillows.

"Enough of these parlor tricks!" growls the champion. She again grasps the door handle and goes to breach the doorway.

Impasha’s hand jerks away from the door handle as it grows suddenly cold. She studies her hand briefly to see if it’s wounded, then begins rubbing it with her other hand after grounding the point of her sword in the dirt.

”Who are you? Why are you trying to drive us away?” she calls back.

Impasha moves to the door on the west side of the room and opens it, sword in hand.

Question for Elarion's player. Elarion and Impasha are the party healers, it would seem. Should we have some sort of standard protocol for how we handle healing, to use it as efficiently as we can? For instance, I've been using Lay on Hands both in and out of combat, as I imagine an inexperienced paladin would -- it would be more efficient to save it for in-combat healing.

I think it makes sense at low level to keep the party as topped off on health as possible. Each combat has been significantly hazardous and challenging so far, and I'm nervous about going into any fight with anyone not at full health. But we only have so much healing magic, and we can't always spare 10 minutes out of combat for Treat Wounds.

Anyway, do you have any thoughts about how we might organize things? Or shall we role-play this as amateurs learning as they go?

When Impasha asks if he wants treatment he nods, saying, "Yes, that would be good, I'm just getting tired of this day; it seems everyone and everything is trying to take a piece out of us. Just a bad day. Thanks for the constant patching." It seems more than just visible wounds on weighing on him, though.

Impasha smiles. "It's certainly been eventful, hasn't it? I could have done without having my skull smashed and being bitten by rats myself." she agrees lightly. "But it feels good to finally be helping fight this evil regime, even in a small way. We're taking a piece of them too. Remember that."

Judging that the group shouldn't sit about for several minutes for first aid services while a 'poltergeist' is probably actively watching them, Impasha again calls upon her deity's power.

"Inheritor, heal these wounds and gird the spirit of this servant of your will, that he may continue the fight in the name of justice."

Second Lay on Hands, +6 hp to Celas

"Darkness, schmarkness! I happen to like darkness. Makes lightenin' a purse so much easier!" She says with false nonchalance. "Don' worry 'bout me." Sounds like another mantra.

With a light spring to her steps she continues her search.

Impasha nods and stands again, with a last friendly clap on Buttercup's shoulder. She glances around at the others, hoping this interlude hasn't drawn too much attention. It was understandable that the halfling wouldn't wish to broadcast any vulnerabilities, especially to strangers, and the paladin realizes she probably should have left things alone. She makes her way over to Celas.

"That's a nasty bite. Would you like me to treat it before we go on?" She pats her first aid kit.

Bellara is also down 3 hp

"Well, no, it just happened when... Well, when..."

Buttercup chokes up and her sentence trails off into nothing. She turns away to hide some tears and visibly stiffens herself and turns back.

With a heavy sigh she says "I'd rather not talk about it." With the tone of someone repeating a mantra she adds, "The past is the past."

Impasha immediately regrets raising the subject and turns her full attention to the halfling. She drops to one knee and lays a sympathetic hand on Buttercup’s shoulder from behind. ”I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, I was only curious.” she says gently in voice laden with compassion.

”We all have our darkness. All we can do is strengthen ourselves to withstand it so it doesn’t overwhelm us.” She seems to be half speaking to herself, or perhaps recalling something once said to her. She gives Buttercup a fortifying squeeze.

Impasha turns to speak to Buttercup as they search. ”Have you always been able to manipulate earth and rock that way?” she asks quietly, as if it might be a delicate subject.

After the rats stop swarming, Impasha warily makes her way, sword in hand, to the rotting crates and furniture to make sure no other, slightly less hungry, vermin are still lurking.

”It looks clear.” she calls up to the people above. She spares a look at her ankle. The bite wasn’t bad, but her aging boots didn’t need another hole. Especially when it seemed likely they’d be sloshing through sewage soon, from the smell of this place.

She makes a cursory search of the room for anything of interest.

”Whoever our poltergeist was, they must not be anyone that rats would find tasty. These creatures were starving. They’d have attacked anyone coming down here, Silver Raven, devil or otherwise. Perhaps our ghost is a sewer druid.”

Not sure if you meant to, but I assumed you would use Shield Block reaction to reduce your own damage by 5hp. If you want to do Retributive Strike instead, ok but you can't do both in the same round.

Oops. Correct, I prefer the Shield Block where possible. Sorry.

Fort Save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Impasha will use her Retributive Strike reaction to protect Celas. Reduce damage by 3. Unfortunately not in range for a melee strike.

Impasha waves her sword defensively in front of Celas, attempting to ward off the creature's attack on the young man.

She then goes to work attacking the rats around her.

Longsword vs Purple: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20 Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Longsword #2 vs Purple (or Yellow): 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (18) + 6 - 5 = 19 Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

If first attack kills Purple, she'll take a step into Purple's square and then attack Yellow. (Strike, Stride, Strike)

If it takes both attacks to kill Purple, she uses her remaining action to step forward into Purple's square. (Strike, Strike, Stride)

"You think the soup kitchen would be interested in the meat if'n we brought it all back? I mean, these are pretty big rats and then there are the dogs upstairs. And the eatin' folks ain't picky."

Upton Sinclair has thoughts!

"You think the soup kitchen would be interested in the meat if'n we brought it all back? I mean, these are pretty big rats and then there are the dogs upstairs. And the eatin' folks ain't picky."

"Let's... table that one for now." answers Impasha gently.

Impasha is all business.

"Right, stay behind me, the others are about to spring. And remember, there might be someone else down here - those phantom sounds earlier weren't from rats or dogs!"

"Gah, this place smells worse than an outhouse!"

Btw, anyone heard from Bellara since PAX? Wondering if we need to bail her out of a Philadelphia jail for drunk & disorderly conduct with Gritty?

It seems like the reflex save implies that the acid would only affect anyone in the area of effect at the moment the spell goes off. Either your skin gets an acid splatter in that moment or it drops to the floor/dissipates. The persistent damage wouldn’t imply a lingering cloud, because a reflex save would be irrelevant if that were the case. My take anyway.

Fort Save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Fort Save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Imapasha growls in annoyance as the huge rat bites into her calf. With snarl of righteous fury, she slashes down hard at the offending rodent twice.

Longsword: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4Crit! X2
Longsword#2: 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (18) + 6 - 5 = 19Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Strike, Strike, Raise Shield - starting with Blue, move to Red if it goes down

Looking down warily, "When I'd said I'd lower a light down, I didn't mean you with the light, Impasha,"

”Thanks for the clarification.” says Impasha with a touch of impatience in her voice, eyes flitting from rodent to rodent awaiting the first spring..

Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

”Rats! Big ones!” calls Impasha as she prepares to be swarmed.

”Smells like the sewers.” says Impasha as the light descends into the hidden sub-level. She peers downward, then stiffens a little. ”Wait… did you see that? Something moving.”

She thinks a moment, then turns back to the others. ”Well, I suppose if they had a serious trap or ambush prepared, they wouldn’t try so hard to scare us away. They may try to attack as we go down, but I think it’s more likely they’ll try and hide now. I’ll go first.”

The champion seems a little downcast. Instead of the headquarters of the resistance, her first mission was to roust squatters from a midden. But a deal was a deal. She tests the first few rungs with her foot, then begins to lower herself down the ladder. About halfway down, she stops to glance around, then slides the rest of the way to the floor, draws out her sword and shield and has a proper look about while guarding the base of the ladder on behalf of the others.

Upon reading the scrawled message, Impasha’s eyes narrow and she frowns.

”Someone is trying to scare us off. With parlor tricks.” she says.

She steps forward and boldly wipes away the warning in the dust with a sweep of her foot, then confidently makes her way to the trap door and looks down.

”Can we direct one of these light spheres down through the trap door for a better look?”

Elarion watches Buttercup try and squeeze between the bars, "I believe I will require the key if one of you can pass it to me, please"

”Oh. I thought it would still be in the lock.” says Impasha, who then sees to transferring the key out to Elarion.

So it's not completely clear but I think the iron gate slammed and locked, not the concealed door to the smaller room, and I think 4 of us (Impasha, Bellara, Celas and Myron) are through the iron gate, while Elarion and Buttercup are stuck outside. I think they can just use the key again and unlock it.

At the sound of the iron gate clanging shut, Impasha's sword whips free of its sheath and she steps back out into the narrow room for a look around. She waits a moment, then relaxes.

"Rexus *did* mention this place might be haunted." she says with a sardonic smirk as she puts her sword away again. "If you believe in that sort of thing."

"Try the key again, and let's stay together. There's a trap door in here, propped open with a piece of wood. And there's a lot of what might be tracks in here, but I'm not sure. It sure looks like someone's in here, but I'm betting it's not Silver Ravens. And I don't think the feral dogs are using trap doors."

Impasha nods. ”I’ll go.” she affirms quietly. She then walks over to the slightly opened door.

going first!

"You were remarkable in the fight." A small smile curved at her lips. "You held three mastiffs at bay and never once faltered. I knew you were brave, Impasha... but that was impressive… …Well, I am grateful to have you at my back. Truly."

The stable is as dim as a candlelit vestry, and the small orb of light near Impasha is a soft red, but in spite of this, Impasha visibly blushes at these words. She looks down at the ground, her lips pursed into a cross between a smile and an expression of exertion, and when Bellara finishes, she seems genuinely at a loss for words. She shrugs a little, eliciting a soft clank from her breastplate, and starts to speak but then has to clear her throat first.

”Oh, they were just a bunch of stray dogs. You could have handled them.” she answers quietly. She pauses, then hastens to add—”But thank you. Anyway, we have to look good or our patron will want his money back.” And at this, for the first time, Impasha raises her eyes to Bellara’s and smiles a little.

Impasha pulls the brass key from the drawer and brings it to the others.

”We found this. Maybe it opens that barred gate. I’ll have a quick look at that equipment across the room.”

Impasha will pick through the pile of discarded equipment in the north central part of the room.

luckily, battle medicine doesn't prevent the use of treat wounds. ". . .The target is then immune to your Battle Medicine for 1 day. This does not make them immune to, or otherwise count as, Treat Wounds."

Ah, good to know. Thanks for the clarification!

Feeling the divine power flow over his wound Celas relaxes, saying, "Thanks Impasha, that really helped."

Impasha smiles comfortingly. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for that torn sleeve."

"Wounded yes, not that serious but I'm getting tired of be bashed and chopped for one day. Nevermind, I'd like any treatment you can do. Thanks,"

Impasha nods and looks over Celas' wounds. Seeing that Elarion has already done the appropriate treatment on the Handyman's wounds, she lays a hand over the area and closes her eyes and murmurs: "Inheritor, give strength and healing power to your servant, that I may fortify those who aid her, in service of your glory."

Lay on Hands, +6 hp to Celas. Can't do another Treat Wounds since Elarion did the Battle Medicine and I think Treat Wounds is a once/hour thing.

Moving over to the offices, Impasha welcomes the help of the others. She mostly pokes through the obvious places, opening cubbards and drawers.

"Wow, you are a physicker? Man, that feels better."

Impasha shakes her head. "Oh no, far from it. I did get a little training in treating battle wounds from my order. And I've picked up a few things over the years I suppose. But if you were to come down with some sort of illness, I wouldn't know how to diagnose it or treat it."

She finishes tying off the bandage and gives it a last pat. "Dog bites I can handle though. Here, can you stand all right?"

After helping the halfling to her feet, she looks around and sees Celas, also wounded. "I'm sorry I reacted so slowly. Is your wound bad? Would you like me to take a look at it?"

****
"That's more than one opening that only a small-sized person could squeeze through. It makes me wonder if perhaps this has been used as some sort of hiding place for runaway halflings? says Impasha.

"I think it's probably wise for someone to keep a watch for anyone who might come to investigate the noise, but Buttercup might be more useful to us if she can squeeze past those bars and have a look at things from the other side. I'll have a look in those offices along the north wall."

The champion makes her way to the doorway of the first office space, hopefully trailed by the red light from the sorcerer.

Search the office, I assume the GM will make any relevant checks

Once the last dog goes down, Impasha quickly puts away her sword and goes to check on the others. Seeing Buttercup rubbing at a wound, she kneels down for a better look.

"I think they were just being territorial. They looked pretty healthy to me anyway. But any bite can get infected."

She pulls out her waterskin and douses the bleeding area, then wipes it clean. She then goes into her healing kit, and carefully treats the puncture wounds with bits of alcohol solution and a few dabs of herbal poultice to stop the bleeding and ease the pain. Her touch is meticulous and gentle, like a mother to a child, complete with soft words of comfort.

Medicine (Treat Wounds): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Healing: 2d8 ⇒ (6, 5) = 11

"There, how does that feel?" she says, giving the halfling a warm, encouraging smile.

Now that she’d had a few moments to settle into the fight, things seemed to slow down and become more manageable as her training took over.

Focusing on the white-haired mastiff whose bite she’d just turned aside with her shield, Impasha slashes down with an overhand chop…

Longsword: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

…then adjusts her feet and stabs forward…

Longsword: 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (11) + 6 - 5 = 12Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

…then follows up with a back-handed slice.

Longsword: 1d20 + 6 - 10 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 10 = 16Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

”Well struck!” commends Impasha after the duelist neatly drops the dog behind her. She visibly relaxes a bit in her stance as the second dog falls outside the broken door where it had threatened the less martially-inclined, though she wrinkles her nose a bit at the burst of dirty wet dog smell.

Paizo.com will go dark at 8 a.m. Pacific on Monday, November 3rd. You won’t be able to access any Paizo services, including Paizo Connect, organized play reporting, forums, downloads, order history, etc., while we work to bring an all-new experience online.

Did this happen? I didn’t notice an outage and the online experience seems unchanged…

A few moments ago, Impasha had been inclined to simply roughly scare these beats off, but they seemed unusually ferocious, and were scoring savage bites all around. It was frankly all she could do to fend them off at the moment.

"All right, enough!" she snarls in response to the latest set of snapping jaws, then begins swinging her longsword at the large black mastiff to her left. Saving the city from tyranny was going to begin with a few feral mutts!

Longsword vs Black: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Longsword vs Black #2: 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (18) + 6 - 5 = 19Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

◈Attack, ◈Attack, ◈Raise Shield

Impasha’s blade flashes out in one hand, and she takes hold of her shield with other. Seeing Bellara standing alone among the swarming dogs, Impasha moves inside the stable to stand back-to-back with the noblewoman.

”I’m usually pretty fond of dogs.” she says over her shoulder as she lifts her shield to ward off the slavering animals.

Draw, Stride, Raise Shield

I notice Rexus isn't in the initiative count. Is our NPC a noncombatant?

As the dogs come pouring out of the darkness, Impasha reacts as one leaps to the attack on the elven priest beside her, and kicks the dog in the side as it goes to bite.

Retributive Strike ↻ :Trigger An enemy damages your ally, and both are within 15 feet of you. You protect your ally and strike your foe. The ally gains resistance to all damage against the triggering damage equal to 2 + your level. If the foe is within reach, make a melee Strike against it.

Reduce damage to Elarion by 3.

Unarmed Attack vs Red: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23Nonlethal Damage: 1d3 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

"Guys, we are about to be attacked by dogs - lots of them."

"It sure doesn't sound like horses barking at us." says Impasha grimly.

The foray into near-sarcasm was unusual for Impasha. If one could get a decent look at her in the twilight gloaming and the will-o-wisp glimmer of Elarion's light spell, Impasha was now grimacing in exasperation, probably with herself given her flushed features. She still holds the portion of the semi-rotted door in her hand.

"Looks like I've alerted the whole neighborhood to our presence, as well as anyone who might be holed up below." she groans bitterly.

”If anyone has been coming in and out of here, I don’t think it was through that door.” observes Impasha. ”That door has been stuck shut a long time.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to gauge how ‘horsey’ it smells, and thus how long it may have been abandoned.

”If someone is using this as a hideout, there may be a hidden door letting people get in and out. And a livery stable wouldn’t normally have a lower level, but perhaps we should look for a trap door anyway. Someone may have tunneled to this spot from elsewhere.”

As she speaks, Impasha gazes into the dark interior with an odd intensity, as if distracted by some association with such a place.

Impasha listens as Buttercup describes what she found, then wordlessly makes her way to the west door. She looks it over briefly, then braces her feet and gives the door a stout yank, lifting it as she pulls…
Strength: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

”We’ll count to one hundred, then we’ll try the west door.” says Impasha quietly to her comrades. ”That is, unless we hear or see something to change that.”

"I don't believe there's any rush. It makes sense to me to be prudent and proceed with caution." says Impasha.

Perhaps the map will answer this question, but is the Livery on a busy street or in an area where we're unlikely to be noticed? Wondering about the wisdom of posting a look-out for this initial investigation. Also, is the Livery locked, or boarded up, or just abandoned? Any evidence of people using it as a shelter? (refuse, muddy tracks, cookstoves in the yard, etc.)

Perception (looking for clues): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Is this where we declare our default condition? i.e. guard, search, etc?

Impasha gradually works out that Hank and Celas are the same person. And more significantly that he seemed to be a regular operative of House Valcaro. She finds the information comforting actually—the ‘Handyman’ might turn out to be more skilled than she’d guessed at first. ”Having an alias in a city of spies and informants seems prudent enough.” she says to Celas. ”I’ll be sure to call you Hank in public, and hopefully you’ll allow me to use your true name in private.”

She listens approvingly to Elarion as he evangelizes rebellion, nodding along. At his last statement to her, she nods more emphatically.

”I will speak to the network this afternoon. Some of the Milanians were at the protest today, so they will understand the situation well enough. Have your people go to the bookstore on Pitcher street and tell the clerk that ‘Impasha sent me’. They will be questioned of course, the Faithful have to be careful, but it should suffice as an introduction. If they can have some token of your House, it will help. Once some of them are accepted, it should ease the way for others, since they can be vouched for.”

She turns to Rexus. ”The offer stands for your people too. I’m sure the Milanians have heard about the fire at your estate already, and will be glad to help any who need it.”