Leofric Collins's page

After some looking around to make sure the site is clear, and knowing that the person responsible for the murders the guard sent archaeologists to investigate is dead, Leofric sighs in relief. But his relief does not bring him joy.

"Sure. Now that we've dealt with the damn thing, we should tell the guards who should have been the ones dealing with this from the get-go. And don't tell me we need to foster goodwill; our expeditions are dangerous as is without doing other people's dirty work." He looks at the dead clerics, one of which he personally destroyed. "I've already made the holes, I might as well bury them. I'll bury the hearts for all that it matters. But re-dedicating the temple? If the Sarenrites want it so badly, how about they put some skin in the game: try harder to "shine their light in the shadow". And no, their brethren dying on dawnwalks does not count."

He picks up one of the dead, adding: "We are Pathfinders, not Heroes Incorporated. This was all dangerous work that could have killed any of us for reasons that aren't good enough."

Leofric stands up, blood dripping from his vambraces, gore staining his face. "And now, you're not" he pants gleefully, before being cut off by Sheela's words. He snorts. "A good life... Whatever she was, she isn't coming back as anything good, if she even comes back." He sighs, as he starts to come off of the adrenaline high he had been riding. "If the gods care, she won't."

Would it be appropriate for us to take either a ten or a twenty to search the sepulcher?

Sheela's words barely reach the Taldane; absorbed as he is in reducing his enemy into a fine, bloody pulp. Mandras-Kul would be proud!

Armor Spikes #1 vs Bat-Woman, Raging, Power Attack, Furious: 1d20 + 12 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 12 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 29
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 18
Armor Spikes #2 vs Bat-Woman, Raging, Power Attack, Furious: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 15
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 17
This round's Wisp attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

"THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!!!" screeches Leofric gleefully, hungrily punching down at the laughing... Thing.

Last round's Wisp attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Armor Spikes #1 vs Bat-Woman, Raging, Power Attack, Furious: 1d20 + 12 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 12 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 35
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 19
Armor Spikes #2 vs Bat-Woman, Raging, Power Attack, Furious: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 17
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 19
This round's Wisp attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

GM, again I don't wish to be contrarian, but based on the information in the spoilers, I only got hit once for nine which would be reduce to seven? Even accounting for a flank and the high ground she must have.

Leofric begins to pummel the woman with glee! "LET'S PLAY ROUGH!!!!"

Using Syllyn's raging song to empower my own. My Furious spikes get deadlier.

Armor Spikes #1 vs Bat-Woman, Raging, Power Attack, Furious: 1d20 + 12 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 12 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 30
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 18
Armor Spikes #2 vs Bat-Woman, Raging, Power Attack, Furious: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 17
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 22

Actually GM, my AC is 2 higher due to my mutagen. I apologize for not having adjusted my tagline appropriately and will do so now. I am thus at 6 damage taken.

Leofric grunts as the spear stabs him once, twice, getting through the scales brought on by the mutagen only once. But as the thing withdraws, he cricks his neck. "That all you got? And then, he begins to get Angry.

And then runs at the longspear-wielding creature.

Provoking a delicious AoO from both.

Overrun: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (13) + 16 = 29
Damage: 1d8 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19

Rushing by, he slams into the creature's midriff , causing it to fall off-balance. The armor spikes on his armor sink deep, ripping flesh as it does down.

Bloody fool. Leofric launches himself in hot pursuit of his fellow Pathfinder. "You're going to get yourself... S%%#. PATHFINDERS, WE HAVE COMPANY!!!"

Double move.

Leofric moves on towards the exit, next to Syllyn. "It wants us to be apart so it can pick us off one at a time. Stay close together. Check the cell, make sure there is nothing left in there." He grits his teeth, thinking to himself: "We better hope it doesn't fly, because otherwise its all on Ingrge."

Leofric lets go of his anger, panting slightly after the exertion. Casually, he inspects the prisoner as he steps over her neck to ensure she does not come back. "So, last lamb to the slaughter; what makes you so special she'd sacrifice you last?" He looks behind him, to the barred door besides Syllyn, shrugs and goes over to open it and look about within.

Leofric stomps his feet in anticipation. "Choo choo lady."

Overrun (as part of movement per Bullette Style): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (11) + 14 = 25
Damage: 1d8 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15

He scampers around the corner, dives for her legs only to emerge back up as she buckles under the blow, spinning around to punch her in the back of the head, a rabid grin on his face.

Leofric, seeing his grippli companion moving on up, rushes between the rows of pews, drawing his longbow. "I'd ask for you to surrender. But that would assume that I believe you want to surrender" he says evilly, before letting an arrow loose.

Comp Longbow vs Assassin: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
Damage: 1d8 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 2 = 14

Leofric, upon feeling Sheela's healing magic, nods stoically. "Thanks." He looks back at his companions, hoping that they are in position, and then back at the door the trap was guarding. He cracks his knuckles and growls: "Alright. Showtime."

Reflex: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21

Out of the corner of his eye, Leofric notices.... Something. Whatever it is, he can only leap to the side to avoid it; whatever warning he would utter is lost in the cacophony that follows.

"GODS ON HIGH" he curses, looking to the others to check on them from where he is rising.

Who does it appear you are activating the wand for Sheela?

When presented with something weird, just blame the Thassilonians/Azlanti.

Leofric pauses to catch his breath. "That was a pretty good workout" he comments to himself before pondering his next few words. "At the very least we've found the bodies that were buried outside. Maybe they took advantage of something that already existed. Who cares at this point? WE can do research later; right now we still have a murderer to catch."

Two rounds later I am no longer fatigued.

Leofric goes stomping around the corner, into what might have been an ossuary. As he rounds the corner, he slams into the undead within, overrunning it!

Overrun (Bullette Charge Style): 1d20 + 12 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 12 + 2 + 2 = 30
Damage(Bullete Rampage): 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (1) + 15 = 16

Knocking the creature down with an elbow to the bridge of it's nose, he follows up with a spiked elbow to it's sternum on the way down, which echoes through the subterranean space as bones crack underneath.

And one prone opponent. At least, I hope. I'l reframe it as daydreaming if I'm wrong.

Leofric steps on into the corridor, cracking his knuckles as the hair on the back of his neck rises. "Found us some old meat." As he sways to the sound of the martial rhythm, his eyes go wild, as if the song was empowering his own rage.

Well, my strength score just became a 26... I promise I wasn't planning on cheesing this early on.

Leofric pauses and holds up a hand. "Hold up." Without another word, he moves over to the, at least in his mind, clearly disturbed graves. "What the..." and without another word he begins shifting the dirt aside, only stopping to look for a shovel of some sort to aid him in his task.

A few minutes later, he steps back up to look Syllyn dead in the eye. "Judge all you want. The dead that aren't there do not give a single s*~%. And I care more about the living." He scowls at the implication. "She's messing about with Sarenrite corpses, isn't she." And without further comment, he steps back through the opening in the side of the building.

Grumbling to himself, Leofric gets off the ground. That was terrible! How... Oh. Maybe I just need to take my dose? Yeah. Maybe my body chemistry is out of sorts. I just wish I had had more time to refine the formula. I hate how it dulls the mind. "Hold up." Without any further comment, he grabs ahold of a vial on his belt, pops the cork off and chugs it down. The results are almost instantaneous: muscle mass increasing, veins bulging; you could almost forget how the glint in his eye dims slightly.

"Better." He turns to Sheela. "Yeah. But don't worry. Next one will be messier." He giggles at his own joke before stomping off towards the now opened doorway.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

Anything else of note GM?

"Lets see how much of a fight she has in her now" he muses dangerously.

You would imagine Magnimar has a PotionOfFly Drive-Thru. Insular communities, I swear...

The pursuit was difficult underneath Magnimar's Irespan. Backalleys, narrow streets blocked by detritus. Only to finally lose the trace of the creature. "JOKTAR'LYM!" he swore loudly in Kellid. But then, in a sudden flash of insight, he looked from the key, tightly grasped in Sheela's grasp to the faces of his fellow pathfinders. "Wait... Didn't the Sarenrites say that their old church was nearby? As in... That way?" he asked, pointing in the direction the Gargoyle disappeared in.

***About twenty minutes later***

"YEP, THAT'S OUR GARGOYLE BUDDY" shouts Leofric eagerly, stomping at the ground before realizing that he cannot charge the beast. With a snort, he nonetheless moves up to the creature, jumping upon it with spikes and all to slam into it.

(Magical)Armor Spikes (Power Attack, Flanking): 1d20 + 12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 12 - 2 + 2 = 13
Damage: 1d6 + 6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 4 = 14

And with great vigor, he nearly misses braining himself upon the ground as it shifts away unpredictably. "COME ON!" he cries out piteously.

Leofric would have insisted we make a detour so he could purchase a potion of fly, but if that doesn't happen in the heat of the pursuit that's fine.

If glitterdust sticks, we'd be able to follow it, but I'm not sure how effective the blindness will be.

Leofric rushes into the gargoyle's lower back, spikes and all!

Dirty Blow (AoO): 1d20 + 12 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 12 - 2 = 13
Not very sportsmanlike good sir (Damage): 1d6 + 6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 4 = 15

GM, it looks like I neglected to count the power attack damage to our gargoyle friend. That's an extra 4 damage from my charge.

I forget if this is an actual rule or not; but can you attempt to grapple someone as an AoO if you do not have improved grapple? I seem to recall you can't but I can't confirm that. GM?

Leofric charges up to the winged creature, slamming his left spiked forearm across it's snout in a backhand swing.

Charge! w/ +1 Furious Armor Spikes: 1d20 + 12 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 12 - 2 + 2 = 25
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

"You're going nowhere!" he snarls.

Leofric spots their killer, but too late. "Sonnova..." he begins to exclaim but soon realises that their quarry is making a run for it. "Oh like HELLS you are..."

Without a moment's hesitation, he bounds down a neighboring alley, moving with utmost speed. Lady I am going to run you OVER! And as he finishes that thought, he finds himself on a main empty thoroughfare. With his target only sixty feet away. "Hey. Nice morning for a walk. You and me, we're doing this. RIGHT NOW."

Leofric replies: "The illusion won't work as the bait; I think it would work to camouflage the cavalry." He points to Syllyn. "He understands where I'm coming from."

He pauses, then shrugs helplessly, defeated. "Listen. I just don't want to see anyone die today or tomorrow." Because that Sarenrite at the head of the Silver Crusade won't let me hear the end of it in that passive-agressive tone of hers. "Let's do it your way, and if it doesn't work, we'll try with magic."

I understand this is a walk, but is it a walk where the Sarenrite just chants as he/she walks about or a walk interspaced with long pauses? Am I overthinking this and we want to just use the skills mentioned earlier? Possibly, and I'm all for that.

***Later, right before Dawn***

You have to be ridiculously motivated to do one of these "Dawnwalks" thinks Leofric to himself as he moves slowly parallel to their decoy. His eyes wander to the Nagaji and the Grippli. I wonder how they feel; it is colder than a Nidalese nun's heart he continues, suppressing a shiver as he shifts, arms closed in an attempt to conserve heat.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

"Invisibility spells only last a minute if casting from a scroll. Ten, twenty minutes at most if you are a powerful spellweaver" grunts Leofric, annoyed with how lighthearted and worry-free everyone else seems to be with the matter at hand.

"It might be better to go with a more simple illusion. A Silent Image spell will last as long as we need it to, and would be cheap."

Has any mention been made of the fact that we are dealing potentially with demon worshipers?

Leofric looks at Sheela from top to bottom. "You certainly look like a Dawnwalking Sarenrite victim. Including the part where someone comes and puts a blade in your heart and you die." His frown deepens. "So I hope you understand why you are my least favorite option when it comes to "bait". Bait should either be expendable or tough as nails.
Or crazy."

He sighs and offers in a tone that wants to be less angry: "Sorry. I do have some money left over from my expeditions to Numeria. I want to put it forward to make sure we are successful here. What could we purchase to make this... Honeypot situation... "Better". If that's possible."

Leofric rubs his eyes with one hand, as his other drums upon his armor. "I see. Well. Do you have any supplies you can provide us with to deal with this problem? Or do you know the address of someone who you go to for specialized supplies?"

Gonna assume a 10 wont tell me anything about this mysterious symbol.

:(

Are we going to look for another?

Still fuming at the realization that not only will he be assigned to a team to perform an even more dangerous task than usual, Leofric shakes Sheela's hand with the least amount of enthusiasm you can conceive of. "Leofric Collins."

To the Captain, he asks "What do the markings look like?"

And someone tell me what the hell we're doing here??? A serial killer? Really? WE're ARCHEOLOGISTS" he thinks to himself really angrily.

Leofric steps up through the main gates towards the meeting room indicated in his missive. What are they going to foster on me now?

Player Name: Upaynao
Character Name: Leofric Collins
Faction: Silver Crusade
PFS# 43451-23
XP: 17
PP: 29 (see below)
Fame: 29
Gold: 1288
XP: Normal
Day Job: None

Leofric views the dungeon delving the Pathfinder Society engages in as a perilous endeavor at best, and as such is very taciturn. When he does speak, his voice sometimes cracks, as if puberty had not fully run its course. To minimize that, he tends to speak very softly.

Hi! Upaynao here again, with a decidedly differant character that has been till this point a GM/AP baby.

Leofric has a schtick: Through Mutagen and Rage, he increases his strength score to overrun opponents using his bulette style. His downside is that his Reflex and his Will aren't all that great. But then again, neither are Ashra's Fort or Will.

Which would you prefer?

(Also if you decide to go with that character, I'll need to spend some gold and prestige before we start)