@Loth, I remember playing with at least one flagbearer character in some PFS games (not my char, but in the team). I think he was a bard with bodyguard feat - quite effective buffing.
Hopeless... The snake woman has cut them down, effortlessly. What is the point in fighting anymore..? Sherman tries to think of a way, of a spell, anything to combat the creature. But his body refuses to obey. He cannot raise his arms against the enemy. His heart falters. The reverend takes one last look at Quinn, still refusing to die in the barrage of strikes. But there is no helping him. "I'm sorry..." he whispers, and turns away. He runs towards the roof's edge, and closes his eyes. "Desna..." he begs, his voice barely more than a whisper still. And then... Then he jumps.
"Tell me Darius Radulescu, why do you alone still live on this ship?" "It seems - to my fortune - that I lacked certain qualities between my legs to be taken as part of the ritual. Don't really know if the magic really cares, or if the hooded types were just old perverts." Darius shrugs. "But if they needed virgin sacrifices, they really chose wrong types of girls..." he adds, rolling his eyes. ---
All this buzz around him makes Darius go on a slow gear for a while, but then some of the words from the journal strike him. "Merdu... Tar-Baphon! The maldito Whispering Tyrant! Are the robed peeps part of the Whispering Way, then? Did you see any gagged skull symbols anywhere?"
-- Hearing his name called from the other room distracts Darius from the thoughs of doomday-cults. And he hustles over. "Oh, yes. These are my humble belongings. Thank you ever so much." He goes through the items quickly. First and foremost, he grabs a leather-bound book with the greatest care, and pockets it. Then, he takes a satchel with assorted scrolls and potions. And last, he arms himself with a crossbow.
"All right, I'm good to... Wait-wait- Burn the ship!? Are you crazy? Ship this size and make is worth good money. We could be rich! Spend the rest of our days drinking fine wines and getting foot massages from madame Viola! I am absolutely against such waste!"
"That one slipped past! Can you deal with him?"" Sherman cries.
Looks like the cult is on to him now, no escaping that. It could be trouble, but then again he only needs to worry about it if he survives this day. "Of course. Father Skinsaw is known for his mercy." Sherman sighs with a tired smile. "But I do not know you lot. Are you even true devouts, or just amateurs with silly masks?" "You there!" he points at the cultist behind Ironbriar. "Show your devotion to the Lord of Murder. Strike down you leader - his back is turned!" The Reverend's voice get deep and commanding. Magical, even.
"What? Where pigsie-things come from?" Zug cries out in alarm. But then, the pig-creatures bring a song to his mind. A song that deserves to be sung and accompanied on a cowbell. "Day of judgement, gods are calling
Foolish pig creatures appear in a room full of soul-stealing things. Zug reaches out with his telekinetic spell and throws a book (yuck!) at the green pig.
Sandikar misinterprets Gwynethiel's glare, comes closer, and offers her a cup as well. "To esteemed travel companion also. A cup of tarag, holy drink of the Jaruud. It is great honor to share a drink."
Sandikar wakes up suddenly from his slumber, alerted by the noises of the guards. He jumps up, fumbles down from the wagon with his gear. But somehow manages to land on his feet, and starts marching towards the guards. He is a sorry sight, wearing just ragged furs and sandals that barely old together. Around him lingers a faint aroma of dung, unwashed skin and booze. He rubs the sleep off his eyes as he approaches the guards, and once there he bows politely and presents himself. "This one is Sandikar. Holy warrior and bridegroom of Sandar-Daichi. This one is here looking for work." From his back he takes a large wineskin, and uncorks it. He pours some into a small cup in his hand, and offers it to the guards. "Customary toast of friendship, offered to esteemed guards." The other caravanners immediately the eye-watering smell of strong alcohol and rotten milk, they've been smelling for the past days.
"Two silver for a boat ride!? That's a fortune! How is everything so expensive in the city?" But them, Pytho remembers the found the bag of platinum coins and that they are practically filthy rich now. And rich people don't walk. "Right, boat ride it is."
Darius wasn't heavy-built, nor he was wearing anything that made noise. It theory, he should have no problem moving stealthily. The only problem was his mouth - it was impossible to keep it shut. "Oh that mudak of a seagull! It almost shat on me!" he yells, leaping away from the bird droppings that landed just next to his boots.
"Thank you, ma'am! Bread and cheese will do fine!" Pytho replies, with equally loud voice. Then, a large gulp of ale from the mug to give himself some time to think what the bartender just said. Something fishy going about, all right. He slams the mug down on the table, and speaks again to the woman, this time with a quieter voice. "The expensive stuff? What would that be?"
Moment after Jolus had left the room, Darius sighs heavily. He hadn't realised he had been holding his breath for some time now. But the situation is over, for now. No beatings today, it seems. "You don't have to tell that idiot anything, you know." He turns to Jakinda, slightly disapproving look on his face. "Besides, I don't think it was our blue he was talking about (whatever that was about). So, we're clear. And, good thinking with that Harrow card..." Darius reaches out to accept the mysterious card. "...only now it smells like your bum." But as soon as his hand touches the card, he finds out it certainly doesn't smell like Jakinda's bum. So startled by the sudden scent and the voice, he almost drops the card. He looks at the girl, but she doesn't look like she heard the voice - no way with that bored look. "Hrm..." is all he manages to say, and he pockets the card for future reference. Time to move out. He grabs his coat from the rack on the wall. Greatcoat of burgundy leather, long and flowing. It's his favorite. And to be honest, his only. Makes him feel like one of those wizards in their robes, except better match for the looks one wears in the dark alleys of Korvosa. Also, it has plenty of pockets to hide things in. He walks by the bookshelf, picks a small, nondescript book right next to Dreamspiders: An Ecology. His spellbook. While he is a firm believer of hiding things in plain sight, this was a close one today. He shakes his head, stuffs the book into a hidden pocket inside his coat, and heads for the door.
"Ce pana mea!!? Look what you're doing! It's glass, svolach! It breaks!!" Darius cries, and sprints to catch the falling beaker, but is too late. He sighs in relief as the glass beaker hits the floor with a mere thud, instead of splintering all around. The Varisian drug-maker picks the beaker up, inspects it for damage, and places it back on the counter. "Is this why you here, idiot!? Break things, and make my work harder. Make boss Lamm lose money?" Darius is fuming, but keeps his tongue under control and his insults mild. He knows far too well where Jolus' limit is, and he doesn't feel like receiving a beating today. "You want to break things, mudak? Come to kitchen then, make best damage there..." he says and starts ushering the brute towards the lab. At least he'll be further away from the secret door there... "...scale of a pseudodragon... How the hell you would know what one looks like. You haven't ever seen a pseudodragon! You couldn't even tell the difference between one and a mudliz..." there's a small pause. Darius just spotted the Harrow card on the chair. What the hell is that? Why is it here? His eyes dart towards Jakinda. But no, it isn't hers. More importantly, whose is it? "...ard..." he finishes the sentence, not-so-very-smoothly. Jolus doesn't seems to have noticed card, so Darius takes great care to look at anything but the chair - the gently bubbling alembic, the pile of discarded spider husks, the drying vat at the other side of the room. Anything but the chair and the card... "Have I cooked blue shiver?" Darius finally returns to the topic.
Kanka.io would be the logical choice for tracking inventory and stuff, if it's handy enough. Let's try...
Can you guys edit those? Only after adding those I noticed every entity has "Inventory" option. I don't know if that would be better way to do the tracking (seemed a bit clumsier in a glance)
"A new nickname? How clever you are, cousin. A true master of language, indeed"Darius rolls his eyes. Svolach..., he adds, muttering under his breath.
Darius is wiping his hands to a cloth (nasty stuff that pre-cooked dream spider venom), when Jolas voices out his question. His first reaction is to motion Jakinda to sit still and stay out of this. No point of getting her involved in whatever Jolas is planning. "I can cook shiver in whatever color, red, green, blue. Why you so interested in blue, cousin? Did your little brain just discover a new color? Or is it a fashion in your circles? Want to impress your boyfriends?" Strange thing is, Jolas never pays much attention to business. He's a blunt instrument, albeit an effective one in that. So why this question.
"Family time sounds good, pleased to meet yours." Pytho agrees.
The half-orc looks puzzled, scratching his head. Then another puzzled looks towards the baubles and chocolates in his hands, before realising he might be a bit rude now. "Oh, thanks. For these. Gifts"
Happy Easter/Ramadan/Passover!
@Sarah, Wandering Waster: Hello! Right, we probably haven't met. Great to be gaming with you! I just realised I didn't read all the info very carefully... So slight adjustments needed for the background ideas, so that the character is still connected to Lamms' And +1 awe to the gameplay intro. Man, that was great!
Lots of civilians about, and in risk of getting killed by those mosquito creatures. They need to be driven away from here. And that is a job that requires some cowbell. Zug takes his instrument and playing and singing. Soon a small bat crawls out of the goblin's sack, jumps onto the cowbell, and starts hammering it with its wings, adding it's own rhythm to the strange musical performance.
"Go away, go away
The goblin sings, swings his cowbell, and dances around the people, pointing towards the exit. It shouldn't be too much of a task. After all, he usually manages to drive the people away from his musical performances even if he wasn't trying to. And while he is at it, Zug changes the undertone of the 'music' to inspire his comrades to fight the monsters.
The past few days have been rather odd. Newcomer to Midland, and to any big city in general, has filled Pytho with awe, wonder, joy, and anguish - all in turns. So many people! And he knows none of them. The foods, the stores, the sights. So much to see - and sometimes it's too much. Like now, he rather withdraws from the bustle of the main streets to find some quiet. The half-orc doesn't know if he really enjoys it here, but after losing his tribe, the best chances to make a living should be here in the city. There's others here as well, minding their own - a human and a sprite. He already knows greeting others isn't a custom in the city, but he can't help a small nod to those two. Then, a scream! Pytho has learned shouts and screams aren't really rare in here. But this one was different. Something is very wrong about that scream. He can sense the pure terror in it. He looks again at the other two present. They don't seem like ordinary townsfolk. Weapons, armor, certain attitude. They look capable enough... "Uhh..." he clears his throat. "Hey there... I know in here in city people should mostly mind their own business. But..." he points toward the alley. "... should we check what is going on there?" Pytho feels he should go and check. But going alone feels like a bad idea.
For the past weeks the work's been crazy, so I'm quite slow on posting. I wouldn't want to stress about the game during the holiday's, but could post if I find the time. So maybe keeping this quite relaxed pace? And this is quite fun, actually. Nice to build a character out of storytelling instead of just optimizing the heck out of it (which is of the case with PF) So I'm very interested with continuing (if you can stand my slow pace).
@Cueta: I'm sorry for your loss :(
"Where to, next?" Prospero-4 asks, feeling surprisingly empty inside. He isn't sure if this is because of Cueta's passing, or the sudden lack of purpose. For the first time in while there's no need to chase cultists or corpse fleet. And there is no real home to return to, either. The Sunrise Maiden is probably the closest thing to home he has. What next - that's a very good question, indeed.
Do we need to deal with the enemy ships at all? Is it enough to stay in one piece and make it to the gateway/degenerator? If we just want to go full steam, pilot action: Full Power (1.5x speed) doesn't need a roll, just RP. I think I should make the divert to engine for +2 speed.
That you? :o Strange having a face for the forum avatar after so long time :)sorry, no feedback yet. I was diverted to check up the whole "paizo controversy" thing I had missed.
I don't have any ideas how to give us an advantage in the upcoming other than putting the bridge lighting into disco-mode, cyborgs and loudspeakers chanting our themesong, and using security cameras to record the whole fight for Astri's vlog.
"You want hear me play?" Zug asks wide-eyed, after Itka's request. People don't usually do that, but the the goblin has just thought they've been too shy to ask. "OF COURSE ME PLAY!" he shouts with a smile, and puts the cowbell to work. This time it's a potpourri of all the melodies played during their adventure, although it takes a real expert to tell one from the other. "Me thank you for the adventure, Itka. And Erryn, and Highwire, and Birgid, and..." He looks around, only to find the dwarf wizard already marching off to the sunset. "AND ERNIR TOO!" the goblin hollers. "Me makes a great song of adventure. Play it all around Absalom, so everyone know what heroes we are!"
Prospero-4 locks the second worm as his new target. The android whirls around, barrel is his heavy weapon sweeping the room. The very second the weapon is aligned correctly, his exocortex send a command for the weapon to fire. "Leila - try to disengage! The worm looks hungry."
"Oh, noooo. Me never could change instrument. Cowbell is bestest!" Zug says, shaking his head at the idea. He takes the cowbell from his belt and clanks it a few times to prove his point. "But many new songs, yes, yes! Right now me practice song called (Don't Crit) The Reaper. But bossman say it could use more cowbell - so me practice very hard to make more sound." The goblin is about to start giving a sample of the song, but is suddenly distracted by Highwire's arrival. "Oh, hello Highwire and Zagnut! Me impressed, you very skillful. Me never been to circus, so if you coming to mission, all mission feel like circus. Great!"
"I agree, the hangar door damage is odd." Prospero-4 says, and starts scanning for access to local network if he could find some logs of when and how the door was damaged.
"While the analysis is running, we should look into the signal in the engine room.." But from the gleeful shouts of the others, the android quickly realizes the rest of the group have already investigated the signal - and have found something interesting. When he gets to the engine room, Prospero-4 finds one package unopened. It's the largest of them all, and bears Prospero-4's name. He carefully tears away the wrapping, and is amazed by the contents. "Fresh-from-the-fabricator Celerity Rigging. It's what I've always wanted for seasonal returning-of-light gift! How could they know?!" Droplets of oil appear to the corners of the android's eyes, and without hesitation he starts removing his current armor and stepping into the new one. Celerity Rigging power armor: Celerity Rigging (Hybrid) Source Starfinder Armory pg. 75 Item Level 12; Price 38,500 EAC Bonus 16; KAC Bonus 20 Max Dex Bonus 5; Armor Check Penalty -2; Speed 50 ft. Strength 22 (+6); Damage 2d6 B; Size Medium Capacity 40; Usage 1/hour Weapon Slots 2; Upgrade Slots 2; Bulk 4 Unlike most other suits of powered armor, which are cumbersome and slow, this armor was designed for magically amplified responsiveness and speed. The armor resembles a humanoid frame of narrow rods, providing you with superior visibility and maneuverability while worn. Instead of heavy plating to absorb blows, celerity rigging uses sophisticated planes of magical force to deflect attacks. Incorporeal creatures’ attacks target your KAC rather than your EAC when you are wearing this armor.
"Yes, we do good job. Could be many more buildings in fire, now." Zug agrees with Manny and Erryn. The goblin stares into the crimson skyline, the soot-covered people and the ruined buildings, and decides to write a song about it one day. But now, they still have a task to do. "Kings change, but they all like gold. And me think human kings take gold with taxes, and keep books of who pay and who not pay. Maybe name 'Crispin' is in tax books." For whatever reason, Fola Barun had put Zug to checking the accounts of Envoys' Alliance faction. So the little goblin has some idea how to find the required information from the tax records, and heads to ask for an audience to the royal archives.
Looks like the robed man has dared to approach the Pathfinders. Birgid would be close by, but she's having some trouble with the bandits already. Maybe putting the robed man out of battle would resolve the situation. Zug begins chanting yet another goblin song, and weaving magic into it "Guardman, bossman
And immediately afterwards, a magical force starts pulling the enemies into dreamlands.
One of the bots jolts momentarily, it's eyes flickering in different colors. Then it turns around, uses it's voice box to module sounds that clearly resemble spoken words for "DEE-VOU-RER SUCKS", and attacks the cultist android.
"I didn't know you had such great concerns for circuitry, Captain. But I am delighted to hear that." Prospero-4 waits for either Cueta or Vek to take the front, and then follows them deeper into the base.
Sorry for the absence.
"Affirmative." Prospero-4 nods and focuses his eyes on the Kish leader. A vicious grin on his face, the android moves his hand to the power feed controls of his artillery laser. Like most weapon of its type, the power levels of the Aphelion laser can be turned up to "ten". But years of training and eccentric knowledge gathered across the universe has thought Prospero-4 the secrets of turning the dial all the way up to ELEVEN!
The laser cannon hums and almost glows in light as it bleeds energy. The android stands in satisfied silence, and starts shooting Xavra.
"We are in peace with Tzayl and her followers. But your aggression we meet with aggression." Prospero-4 responds to Xavra's boasting, and points his weapon toward Astrianna's target. "And because your hostility and aggression, we will kill you. And you and your kin will be no more. Is this irony? Or is it evolution?" he continues, although not sure if talking to the kish or just saying his thoughts out loud. But this line of thought ends when he pulls the trigger and starts blasting the kish.
Prospero-4 reaches down towards the remains of the slime, picking up the biggest gun-like object. He wipes some of the slime off the weapon, identifying it as a functional artillery laser - aphelion design. There, grasping the heavy weapon with his both hands, the android finally feels whole. "I..." he whispers to the weapon.
Prospero-4 has just levelled Betsy towards the air elemental, eager to unleash it's power, when he hears Astrianna's command to focus on the fire elemental. The android's expression hardens. There is a moment, when he conciders disobeying the order, just for his personal gratification. But these treasunous thoughts are interrupted when a small package hits his head. His visual processor identifies the creatures as someone he has encountered before - perhaps the previous year. But the creature is gone again, and the android is left wondering the reason behind its behavior. And the he remembers where he was, and what was he doing.
Boarding the Sunrise Maiden feels like coming back home. Even if there is an exciting data package waiting to be decrypted, Prospero-4's homecoming follows strict routine. He first walks to the storage bay, and exits the power armor. Once the maintenance program is running for the armor, he takes all his battery cells into recharging station. Only then, the android considers going to the medbay to be patched up, but seeing Vek crashing there, he decides the Vesk is in greater need for medical services. So it's time to concentrate on the data module. Almost disappointed by the simple protections of the hard drive encryption, Prospero-4 feels he can leave the language analysis to the Exocortex, and get some much needed rest himself. Cueta's snoring carries the android into the dreamlands as well, and only the Exocortex simple AI is left to keep company to the halfling, who is too hyped up to notice anything strange about the "Yes, that is very interesting" and "I am afraid I did not quite understand, could you please elaborate" line of responses.
After a few seconds, Prospero-4's initial breach&clear tactic starts to feel unnecessary. And when the holograms start playing, the android lowers his weapon. He stays still for a moment, trying to optimize the translation software to better understand the ancient words. He is unsatisfied by the imperfect translation, but at least it is enough to understand the purpose of this place. "I do not have any real data to back this up, but it is a high probability that these holograms are what the locals referred as ghosts. This one is not very informative, however. But if the pattern follows any of the museums in Pact Worlds, we should encounter more informative holograms in the following rooms. In fact, it is a very good opportunity to learn about the builders of this world. The natives have little real knowledge, and I am sure the Starfinder Society would... Oh! A gun!" It is, in fact, very hard to distract Prospero-4's single-track line-of-thought. But firearms are an exception to the rule, and the android forgets all about the historical value of the museum, and goes to pick up the snub scattergun.
"My apologies, Astrianna. I registered the activity on the landing pad as intimidation, slaughter, and torture. I will re-calibrate my vocabulary. I now see talking is definitely an option in dealing with Xavra." Once more, the android's emotionless face makes it impossible to tell whether he is actually serious, or has learned practical application for sarcasm. "How exactly do we prove ourselves worthy?" Prospero-4 asks Tzayl, interested of the possibility avoiding temple's the front door. "And I would like to rest as well."
A quick look around him makes Quintus realize that he, too, must be wearing another guise. And looking down, he spots the holy symbol of Desna hanging on a chain around his neck - and bursts out in laughter. "Oh, this is just hilarious! Of all the possible things, I'm a butterfly priest!"
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