Ishkepu Washkep's page

I'm OK. Day 3 with symptoms and they're not much more than a sore throat. Fel isn't leaving until Saturday, so she's OK. (I was hoping to spend a week with my parents before she got here. Best laid plans. Happily, they're OK and I'm isolating in their guest bed.)

Happy trails, Brian! I'm hoping that my trip up to Philly will still happen. I've been in Delaware for 5 days and I'm covid positive.

"Nah."

Culture: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

"It's odd that no one's collected these offerings. On the other hand, if the temple were abandoned, there would be a lot more stuff here."

Ish blows the smoke wafting from his gun barrel and does a reasonably good impression of cowboy from holovids twirling it before he holsters it.

I could use the Ring of Resistance, but I assume others could as well.

Ishkepu peeks between his fingers and fires another shot.

baby slug thrower: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

"Yes! I didn't want to see it if I hit you by accident! I'm a terrible shot!"

When Green lands its heavy blow, Ish responds. "Not so fast!" Ishkepu shouts, pointing at Green. "I saw this episode before and that is not how it happened!"

Ish uses Alternate Outcome as a reaction to turn that crit into a normal hit. Sorry to ruin your fun, Sparrowhawk.

Ish then presses his off-hand to his chest and seems to draw forth a bright glow. With a flick of his wrist he fires it at Blue. (I'll move Wisp Ally to Blue as a move, though IDK if anyone already availed of it this round.)

Soul Surge: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
piercing/force: 3d8 ⇒ (5, 1, 8) = 14

As if in response to Sevash's comment, Ish averts his face and shields his eyes in the crook of an arm while firing at Yellow.

"What if I hit Aysen? I can't bear to look!"

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Ishkepu falls back with other casters and readies to fire at Yellow until after a better striker gets the benefit of harrying fire.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Ish takes a 5' step away from Yellow, casts Wisp Ally on it to provide harrying fire (and lighting up the room) and draws his six-shot slug thrower.

"I hope I remembered to load this thing."

fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

reflex: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"Yacch!" Ishkepu shouts as the electricity scorches him. "Another reason I don't like messing around with gizmos. The song of the cosmos is never so much of an ouchie."

Hey, did you guys see that, He whispers.

"Before we suit up, let's join together and commune with the deeper currents of the universe. Everyone hum at the same frequency as me."

Ishkepu slaps a rhythm against his chest and gyrates as he hums a strange tune. After a few seconds, he prances around, shaking his hands at everyone participating in his strange rite.

Casting life bubble

"In case of suit rips y'all can fall back on them old mysteries," he adds with a wink.

"If I had known this little band of irregulars would be going after a relic on a stray comet, I'd have signed up with you all way sooner."

I think I have to make a few final purchases, but I am leveled.

"Let me take a look at that..."

Intelligence: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

"...Yeah, no, it can't be done."

exciting! i haven't yet played starfinder at such a high level. keen to see how it works.

Ish tops up his clip with fresh bullets, chatting while he does.

"You know, one of the meatheads in my old squad says this thing is not called a 'clip'. 'It's a magazine,' he says, 'a clip is a thing that girls put in their hair.'"

He pauses and looks at the others and adds, "Is that sexist? It feels like it's sexist. He said it with such contempt."

"Damn this, thing," Ish says, pounding his fist against the action on his pistol. It discharges a third round in the bug's direction.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

"I told them I only wanted to do psy-ops from now. You know? Designing leaflets, doing podcasts, astral projection."

Ish swaggers and drawls, "Well, deal with this, pilgrim," in a corny quote from some obscure holovid from decades earlier.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

"Or was it, 'Deal with this, pardner?' Either way it makes more sense if you're at a card table."

"Does this happen to you guys a lot? Because combat is not really my thing!" Ishkepu says as he fires blindly, his face turned away from the muzzle flash.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
1d6 ⇒ 4 piercing

Ish fires a second shot at the bug.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

"Ah! There's that pistol I was looking for!" Ishkepu draws and fires.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Just an FYI that Wisp Ally sheds light in a 20' radius, so the room should be lit around the baddie.

Ishkepu touches two fingers to his temple and focuses on warping reality around the bug. Disrupt Attack (DC 16 Will save or it takes a -2 to attack)

Hovering on luminous butterfly wings, Ishkepu also shifts the wisp ally to provide the effects of covering fire (a further -2 to attack)

What kind of a check do we need to ID this thing?

Ish casts Wisp Ally against it to give a +2 to the next attack.

Hey guys, sorry for my absence and for my radio silence. I completely lost the run of things last month. Felicity and I moved out of Dublin during lockdown and when we went back to in-person classes, my commute was close to 2 hours each way. Anyways, I've left that job, so life ought to be getting back to normal (or whatever passes for it these days).

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

"Very cheerful energies in here," Washkep says as he stirs the air with one hand.

To be clear, is Sevash grappled by the monster or by that horrific pun?

Ishkepu closes his eyes and reaches out a hand, causing the air around the fungus to warble and bend. Sevash would feel heat coming from the distortion as the air itself starts to burn.

This is Infinite Worlds. The fungus will take 2 fire damage per round with a DC 16 Fort save allowed for half.

Sorry for my absence lately! I've been super busy with work and a long commute!

Culture: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"Grenades, now that's one kind of thing I never leave home without."

"Yes. Welcome to the squad, I'm sure you bring a lot of valuable wartime skills to the table..." Aysén will frown looking at the copy of the comic on the table "Perhaps you might tell us about those skills? Did you bring a gun? Would you tell me if I was about to walk into something radioactive?"

"I know I told command I would soar, but that was metaphorically. Damn it, I'll need a jetpack or something to keep up with my fellow soldiers now.

Along the way to the tunnels, Ishkep responds to Aysen's question as though the drow had just posed it, when really an uncomfortably long time had passed, "Wartime skills? Irregular warfare. Very irregular. I've been coming to grips with the basic nature of the multiverse, and it can be helpful to sort of bend things this way and that. And, ah, I would definitely tell you if you were going to walk into something radioactive, but I lost the geiger counter they issued me a ways back."

A gun? I do have a gun around here somewhere," Ishkepu says, patting his sides. You can see that underneath his trench coat he wears some archaic piece of gear made of snake skin, and though there is a shoulder holster in evidence there is no gun in it. He snaps his fingers as though he just remembered something. "I let some kids play with it. Kidding, kidding, but let's talk about those paywalls. I refuse to give Pisney Publishing any money since they screwed Bala-14 out of her IP."

Culture: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

"Are you talking about the caves with the old failed shirren colony in them?"

"CO sent me some briefing papers but I haven't gotten around to reading them," the imago says, casting a mournful eye toward the ratty comic book. "But if they're sending me, I take it things are a mess."[/b]

A thin humanoid with pale green skin and luminous butterfly wings hovers off the ground. His legs are folded in the lotus position. A long, synth-leather trench coat hangs nearly to the floor.

His eyes are closed and a look of deep, meditative calm rests over his angular face. As you enter, he raises one hand, palm out toward you. The other rests on a battered old comic book in his lap. The pages are age-softened and dog-eared.

"I'll be with you in just a moment. I've almost got it."

After a long moment, his brow wrinkles in consternation and a frustrated sigh escapes his nose.

"Today's not the day," he says, opening his black, pupil-less eyes. "I've been trying to read by astral projection. Since they put the e-books behind a paywall I decided to only read on these wood pulp things. F*ck it. The name's Ishkepu. Clandestine Services."

He tosses the comic onto a table. It's a copy of Sparklemuffins!, a title about a crime-fighting pop band aimed at teenagers on Abadar Station.