Khabash's page

Yes, thanks for running, and thanks to all of you for making this a lot of fun.

GM H, I had a question about the chronicle. As I read the rewards, we only get 400 gp--the monetary rewards aren't cumulative. Could you clarify that?

"Master Shaine, before you go I have a question. In the vision, this room was filled with streams of mist, and when the Decemvirs fell they...disintegrated into it, I suppose. At first I thought it was part of whatever magic put us there, one more strangeness to go with being in another body. But when Eylysia showed us what really happened the mists were there, as well. Do you know what they were?"

Khabash runs a hand over his head, smiling at the absence of hair. "It was...odd. We were put into the bodies of Eylysia's companions when she fought three Decemvirs. One had a black, jeweled domino mask, one a stag-horned mask, and one a triple-flanged, eyeless helm. There was another who spoke, but I don't remember seeing them. Eylysia was waiting for someone named Veldrid, to confront her with what Eylysia knew and convince her to support Eylysia. Her goal was to force some others to resign. The stag-horned one told her that it was the will of the Ten that she stop her investigations. She threatened to reveal what she knew to the rest, and it was then that they attacked her. She survived the attack and teleported away.

"I am certain that I have missed something...being in the body of another was disorienting. If the vision is true, though, she was not trying to assassinate the Ten--she was defending herself against the attacks of three of them, who were likely acting without the knowledge of the others."

One left, and I've got the best shot at them. Who needs support? Khabash grits his teeth and steps into the misty barrier again, moving forward and tossing a bomb at the last enemy. It bursts on contact, spilling alkahest on his target.

Bomb to Blue, including inspiration and PBS: 1d20 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 22

Miss chance, 1=miss: 1d5 ⇒ 3

Bomb damage (unless target is corporeal undead or construct), including inspiration and PBS: 1d4 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 10

Frustrated that he can't use his best attacks while in melee, Khabash retreats.

Withdraw.

Khabash takes a short step back, shaking his hair out of his eyes impatiently as he draws his crossbow and shoots at Red. The bolt goes over the decemvir's head, though.

Light crossbow attack, incl. PBS & IC: 1d20 + 3 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 1 + 1 = 11

Go to "My Organized Play," find your character, and click the Edit button.

Unclear on what is happening but concerned about the person who's drawn a sword and threatened him, Khabash drinks a shield extract and advances cautiously through one of the mist streams.

Probably the same gnome that Khabash saw in his vision. Is there anyone else in the room?

Khabash is going to use his massive native charisma to inspire the rest of you.

Waiting to see if the matter is taken out of our hands.

Good luck. My wife is very glad she retired from teaching two years ago.

Khabash nods absently. "I *think* so, but I don't know how the Cowl is involved. Maybe it just has to be here?"

Khabash glances at the others before walking over to the middle of the room, examining the cache of items for something that looks like the horse totem would sit on it. His hands shake slightly, though there is no obvious reason why. Deep breaths. Exit is over there, if I have to make a run for it.

Aha! I have it! Score one for stalling! With more confidence in his voice, Khabash replies, "Yes, of course. Our first task was to obtain a 'speaking artifact' from the Jeggare Museum. We learned it was likely the base for this horse totem, which may be present here. At least, we have indications that Helven Leroung took it away, perhaps to Absalom.

"Next, we journeyed to the Rising Spire in search of a story. It is recorded on these tablets here, of a dwarf named Jorgar Ironbellows. Jorgar slew his father for his inheritance, and was in turn slain by his son for the same reason. The moral is to avoid selfishness and put the interests of your fellow dwarves ahead of your own. When I touched the tablets I had a vision, which I believe was of Eylysia herself. In the vision she lamented that the tale was not heeded in the Grand Lodge, and asked me to sing it the next time I was there.

"Finally, we recovered Autumn's Cowl from a grove in the Arthfell Forest. We also found a note from Eylysia, about hoods illuminating truth while masks shelter deceit. I believe that if we can find the base for the totem, the combination of it, the Cowl, and the story will provide the answers we seek."

When in doubt, stall. Khabash clears his throat and removes his notes from a belt pouch. "Master Shaine, members of the Decemvirate. What started as a simple question of history soon turned into something more. Not entirely unexpected, of course. As Pathfinders, we often, ah, encounter situations where even the ancient past is still very much with us. Before we do what you ask, I have a question for you, and also for them. Why was Eylysia allowed to live, after what she supposedly tried to do?" While waiting for the answer, the alchemist peers around the room, looking particularly at the statues for anything familiar from the recent travels.

Khabash can't hide the worry he feels, but tries to remember the Dwarven tale and his vision of the old gnome.

Sounds good to me, although I'm not likely to be playing this character for the GameDay.

Khabash doesn't quite roll his eyes. They're leaving out the important parts! How do they expect people to know what happened? "They're right, but they missed some details. There was a shrine within to Ng, one of the Eldest. The entity we met was a huldra, a sort of fey, and not really a spirit. She left us with the item there, Autumn's Cowl, and a charge to guard the Grove. Obviously we can't do that. Is that a duty you would accept? We would leave the Cowl with you."

Distracted, the alchemist doesn't say anything while the rest of the party debates donning the Cowl. He comes back to himself with a shake of his head. "I have an idea...it may be wrong. It seems to fit the facts we have, though. Eranahu, tell us if you notice anything when you put on the Cowl.

"The huldra spoke glowingly of Zaul Blystone, hailing him as the chosen of Ng. Eylysia did not trust him, though, and suspected that he brought a fake 'Autumn's Cowl' back to Absalom. Well, we know that is true--the real Cowl is here. Suppose Blystone didn't trust the Decemvirate with it? That carving--perhaps the 'E' is Eylysia? So she came here, investigated, and ultimately agreed with Blystone--at least, the inscription speaks of a covenant. This would seem to be what we came for, but we should explore the grove further."

Not being completely socially inept, Khabash covers his head with the hood of his cloak and bows, thinking furiously. Masks hiding deceit...I wonder if this is about the Decemvirate? There may be much to learn here....

Knowledge (Arcana) check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

"It is not only the works of Nature, but the magic of your Grove that we would protect."

Appraise check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25

Khabash stares at the woman's garb for a moment longer than politeness would allow before clearing his throat and speaking.

"We are Pathfinders, charged with investigating the history of the Society. We mean no harm to the Grove, and would be very grateful for any insights and answers you might provide."

Knowledge (nature) check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

I won't be doing GenCon, but will be out of town most of the weekend and slow to post.

"Get away from it!"

At least he's not singing "Boys and girls of every age...."

"Watch out for its vines, and do not be too close when it dies--it will explode!" The alchemist struggles forward through the tangled undergrowth, drawing a vial and hurling it at the creature.

RTA, including inspiration and PBS: 1d20 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 24

Alkahest damage, including PBS: 1d4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 4 + 1 = 8

"Let us see what is in the building."

GM H, did anyone have a chance to attempt the Knowledge (religion) check after Khabash pointed out the tree?

I'll be traveling tomorrow and Sunday, and will be slow to post.

Perception check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Khabash is clearly uncomfortable in the strange (to him) environment. He walks in a near-crouch, eyes constantly moving, alert for anything that might be hostile. He suddenly starts, then relaxes. "Look there...I thought it was a humanoid in robes by that tree, but it's just part of the trunk."

Khabash doesn't have Knowledge (religion). Having pointed out the figure, can anyone else attempt that check?

"Historical research. We are following a very old trail, with the aid of this compass." Khabash indicates the wayfinder.

"Are these tablets are the noble's tale that Master Shaine sent us for? If so, we are done here, and can move on to the next errand."

The alchemist shakes his head and looks around. "Did any of you see--no, of course not. When I touched the tablet I saw an old gnome woman, who said--" He pauses, eyes closed, remembering. "--'If only this song had been sung in the halls of Absalom's lodge. Perhaps these lessons would have saved a few lives, and a few reputations.' Then she looked directly at me and smiled at me before continuing, 'Sing it once more for me the next time you're there, would you?' And then she was gone." He rubs his head absently. "I would like to see a picture of Eylysia. There is something we are missing, here--something long lost about our Society."

Knowledge (History) check: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Khabash makes a beeline for the tablets, ignoring the bodies and other detritus. "This is a dwarven cautionary tale in the form of a ballad about a dwarf named Jorgar Ironbellows. Jorgar murdered his father for his inheritance, and was in turn killed by his son for the same reason. The moral is a warning against selfish ambition."

Khabash quickly reloads and shoots again at the prone goblin.

Light crossbow, incl. PBS and inspiration: 1d20 + 3 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 3 + 1 + 1 = 17
Crossbow damage, if applicable, incl. PBS and inspiration: 1d8 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 + 1 = 9

The Osirian advances, pivots, and puts a crossbow bolt into the cavern floor somewhere in the general area of the prone goblin. He mutters archaic curses under his breath.

Crossbow to prone goblin, including inspiration and PBS: 1d20 + 3 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 1 + 1 = 8

According to the ability description in that thread, it's personal only. How do you have it affecting someone else?

The alchemist takes a short step ahead, drops the torch he holds, draws his crossbow, and loads it.

"Don't get too far ahead." Khabash follows the oreads, keeping close to Sälpä.

Just in case it becomes important, Khabash has the trap spotter rogue talent.

Khabash gives another fleeting grin. I had doubts about the kobold's paladin status, but that's definitive.

Khabash likewise looks to the west. "Prepare for either."

Khabash extends a hand. "I will hold the torch. You need your hands free, yes?"

Not exactly what I was asking. Are the tracks we've been following throughout of a size consistent with having been made by dwarves? How do they compare in size to, say, Genryl's footprints?

"These tracks...are they of a size to have been made by dwarves, or are they smaller than that?"

Khabash draws his wayfinder and invokes its magic to make it glow.

Khabash stares at the tower, then starts as he suddenly realizes that there's a conversation happening. "Oh. I am Khabash, out of Osirion. By preference I am a historian, and I have had to learn much of alchemy and other things to deal with the hazards of studying history in my homeland."

"If the rest of the party decides to visit Highhelm, I will accompany them." The alchemist gives a quick smile, gone before it can quite register as an expression. "I suspect we will eventually travel to both places."

"Start with the forest. That is a new thing for me...I have seen much of underground already."

"That would be helpful. Master Shaine will want to know." The Osirian is again sounding distracted, and the occasional glances he casts in the direction of the museum storage room make his preferred focus plain.