Linria 'Lyn' Korudorn's page

Great game as always Magabeus. Thanks for running this, and for the early chronicle!

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
"A quarter of its own value, eh?"

I'm sure it's the finest quality silver and it is ancient, but really? 8,000 gold pieces for that?

Linria sizes up Ulisha, trying to get a read on her honesty. "How do you figure it's worth as much as that, Ulisha? As Hanlin said, maybe you can tell us more about its history. It is something of an antique, isn't it?"

"But, um, why do we want to buy the Silver Hex? Sorry, guys," Lyn turns to Palomia and The Foreigner, "But my own hexes seem to have affected my mind's clarity somewhat. Why would I want a Silver Hex?"

Sayra sneezes suddenly and looks at Lyn sideways.

What? Did I miss something? OH! Right.

"... The Society wants that thing. What would it cost us, Ulisha?"
____
Because not taking advantage of a pun when it presents itself is just not something I'm capable of...

Lyn sighs. "I wish the little jerk would just stay put already!" She takes out her yellow and black light crossbow, The Wasp's Sting™, and aims it for the halfling.

Light crossbow, melee: 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (12) - 4 = 81d8 ⇒ 8

When the arrow lands in the grass in front of her, Sayra turns and looks up at Lyn, her lip caught on her bottom teeth as if to mockingly grin at her master.

Keep that up and next time, I'll aim for you instead!

Oh dear. Did I forget to post here? I think I was missed last round.

Lyn grins with satisfaction as the human goes to sleep and Hanlin disarms him. "We'll see how tough he is once he awakens. If he awakens, of course." She attempts a spell similar to Ashwell's.

Daze on the half-orc, DC 14 Will

"Oh, come on," Linria sighs forcefully. "Burn off your testosterone and let's talk about this like civilized people. Or maybe take a nap first and you'll feel right as rain?"

Ready an action to Slumber Hex when the half-orc comes within 30 feet

"Where's Ulisha now anyway? Maybe we can talk some sense into her, Anwald?" Lyn pleads with the man.

Sayra, see if he likes you any better.

The purple fox cozies up next to his ankle.

Lyn gasps in horror as Krieger is relieved of his weapon. "This is starting to look bad. As much as I enjoy sending them to sleep, let's see how this guy feels about some mild hearing loss." She opens her mouth wide as if to scream, yet no one except for guard with the blue pants hears the horrible sound.

Ear piercing scream, 1d6 ⇒ 3 sonic and dazed for 1 round. DC 15 Fort to half damage and negate daze.

"Krieger! Get out of there!" Lyn shouts, then quickly attempts to whisk the green-eyed man to sleep. "Bed time can be fun even when you've got four paws and a long metal sword in your face, handsome," she whispers at him.

Slumber Hex, Will DC 15!

"Darling, what ever do you mean by silverdisks? These things?" Lyn holds up a disc. "There are much finer things in life than these, you just have to dream, perhaps?" She grins at the man and coaxes him to sleep.

If you will allow it, I will Slumber Hex Mr. Massive Blade (Will 15). If not, I'll wait until actual combat breaks out.

Appraise: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Linria nods firmly. "Ashwell's right. I have no idea what this stuff is, but we should take it and see what the Society can make of it. These discs are certainly odd," she picks one up and sniffs it. "Why are there so many of them? Spare parts, perhaps?"

Lyn can't help but giggle. "I.. am more experienced in metallurgy than I'd like to admit, Palomia. But we'll have to talk that over after we're through here," she says, dismissing the topic. "My arms are no bigger than yours, but I guess I can try?" She leans over and hooks her nails underneath the section.

Strength, guidance: 1d20 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 + 1 = 2

.. But her attempts are in vain. "Guess I should stick to magic, eh?"

"Oh, so it's okay for the Foreigner to deface the tomb, but as soon as I pull out my bow..." Lyn sighs. "Anyway, at least that solves that. On to Ulisha's next entry..."

Crash
Diplomacy to gather information, Guidance: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 + 1 = 3
Kn Nature, Guidance: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 8 + 1 = 20

Linria fails to collect any information about Numeria or the crash site at all. "Sayra, I guarantee your purpleness is having no positive effect on our efforts here," she taunts her pet. As the team begins to dig, she examines the metal curiously. "This.. is some sort of alloy made o' iron and adamantine! Aye, it may not be mithral, but I'll take it!" Her excitement is palpable, and her odd accent combined with sudden frantic digging makes Lyn seem more the type to have a rock collection than to attend fine banquets in the company of elven nobles. What a weirdo.

Lyn ponders on the idea of reflecting via use of a mirror, then speaks up. "I've seen some pretty remarkable stonework in my days, and this spire lacks charm anyway. Er, I mean that as delicately as possible. Is it really the worst thing in the world if we, you know, tear down the spire? We... Someone could always erect a more grand one, right?" Bluff: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1 Hah!

"Perhaps there is a way to lower the spire? Or knock it over?" Linria notes as she looks at the setting sun. "I suppose we may be defacing a tomb in doing so, but it seems the sun and the bust must come into contact. Maybe I can fire a few arrows at it from the Sting," she says as she pulls out her yellow and black striped light crossbow.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Linria notices movement behind the mausoleum and nudges The Foreigner, whispering to him. "There's someone - a woman - behind the mausoleum. She's with her horse, and she's looking right at us!" She tilts her head to look up at the roof. "Strangely, one of the white hawks on the roof is moving slightly. Is it also watching us to alert someone of our entry?"

Lyn pulls Sayra a good distance back from the trapped door, then ducks behind the small fox. Don't look at me like that. I dropped something.

"Good thinking, Hanlin. I was little weirded out by that slug of yours, but I guess I was wrong," Lyn says, adding a signature awkward wink. "What about if this is a riddle? Maybe we should try moving the bust?" Lyn sees if she can lift it.

Lyn nods at Hanlin's request, then stares forward at the pedestal. "Magical, you say? Let me have a look at that."

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

"Nope," she says in defeat. "The magic is blurry. It's there, but I can't quite place it. I've heard of hawk familiars and it may be as The Foreigner says - a companion told to attack the victim while his master did. See, Sayra, sometimes even familiars can get violent, you know." The purple fox sits proudly on its hind legs as if to dismiss the remark.

"Wait!" Lyn holds her arm out to stop the Foreigner. She investigates to see if the body looks like if it was carefully placed or if it was actually slain there. Is there dried blood? "What if it's a trap, Foreigner?"

Perception traps: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Lyn approaches with caution and intrigue all the same. "Is he injured? Let me have a look."

Heal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Sayra stays nervously nearby, her snout tucked into the side of Lyn's robes.

Take 10 on the potion for 18
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

"Well, that solved that, and not a moment too soon," Linria says, quickly making way for the inn and her "hot date."

The morning after, she examines the magical gear curiously. "A potion of invisibility and a scroll of grease. Hey Relas, ever wanted to attack from the shadows? Now's your chance!" She holds out the potion for someone to grab. "I have no idea what these bracers are, other than a little gaudy."

Having some (though little) awareness of her social ineptness, Lyn leaves the talking to the more charismatic of the group, and instead stares ahead into the cemetery. "Sayra, don't be scared. We're in good company."

Yeah! I have a fresh never-before-played PC who could take on the Confirmation, if there's still room.

As for the other 2, my Gameday game card is already jam packed, so I'm going to have to pass on those.

"I've got a date with the most dapper of fellows later," Bluff: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (19) - 2 = 17 Lyn lies through her teeth, "so let's finish this up already." Sayra sneezes violently, almost as if laughing at her master. Lyn points at the priest and tries to put him to bed.

Slumber hex, DC 15 Will

Sounds like you had a great time at the con, Palomia. I agree with you that when it comes to F2F games or even voice games online, you have to be a lot more assertive. I've had many of my characters drowned out by more eager, upfront ones. For me, it'd probably work better with a group of friends or just like-minded people. That said, I haven't been to an actual con before though and would still love to go!

"You're right," Lyn says, taking out a dab of butter and a pinch of wool. "This does have to be done the hard way." She points at the red-helmeted henchman and attempts to get into his mind.

Daze, DC 15 Will

While Lyn is hidden in the shadows, she pulls a few rat ribs and turkey wishbones from a pouch and begins carving them up.

Craft (boneworking): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

She manages to quickly carve them into a bony Razmirian idol, which she proudly displays to the crowd. "See? You had us all wrong!"

If you don't want to allow this on the basis that crafting takes a while, then I'll instead use diplo at -1.

"Sayra, wait!" Lyn calls out as the purple fox turns and gnaws at her the bottom of her gown, quietly pulling her to a secluded corner. "Oh, I see what you're up to."

Sayra, Stealth: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16

"Hey, come on now, you'll all get a turn, I promise?" Lyn says with a wink at the grabbing villagers. "Just let me through, please?" She hikes her gown up just enough to show some thigh.

Bluff: 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (4) - 4 = 0

... And quickly recalls she had forgotten to bathe and shave her legs for the past two weeks.

"I still think the dwarf should have it..." Lyn mumbles. "But I do agree with Palomia. I'd prefer not to barter all day. Sell the stuff to the gnome and let's be on with it - perhaps we might head to Allenstead and check out this magical scepter next?" With an intrigued smile, she eyes the sheet from Ulisha's journal titled Colony.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25

Lyn nods at Mishka. "As my friend here says, this is fantastic webbing, the quality of which you've never seen before. A fair price ensures all of us leave here happy today, right?" She smiles at the gnome.

Diplomacy, aid: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11

Lyn applauds Relas' attempt to sound dwarven. "'at's the ticket!" She offers him a high five.

Sayra looks on with little embers blazing in her eyes.

"You bet, Mishka. But you are a much better speaker than I," Lyn says, biting her lip. "Perhaps you should lead?"

Either way, entering the shop, Linria puts on her best dwarven accent, much to Sayra's vexation. "'Ey thar ol' Ninefingers! Say, do ya really have nine fingers? What's the story behind that anyhow?! Minin' accident? Wrestlin'? A wee bit too much ale and a tumble over a table? Ya scurvy tar, ya gotta be more careful!"

Diplomacy, Aid: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (17) - 3 = 14

Lyn looks down at Sayra.

You heard him. What do you think? Dwarf or gnome?

...

Oh, as if I didn't see *that* coming. Luckily, you can't speak.

"I think she'd also prefer the dwarf," Lyn proudly states, self-satisfied grin on her face and all.

"Perhaps we might engage Ninefingers in a friendly way... And share a mug o' ale to loosen the coins in 'is grasp!" Lyn puts on her best impression of a dwarf, which comes off as a lot more accurate than one might expect. "Either way, we can at least see what he's willing to pay and compare it to Vanderpoof... What a name... Vanderpoof's deal."

Lyn suddenly coughs violently and chokes up a ball of twigs and grass. How it got there is anyone's guess. "Ugh, sorry. This is why I've been so quiet," she wipes her mouth.

"I can help find a buyer too!" Lyn says as she follows Hanlin and Palomia into town. "I have a way with men, you know." Awkward wink.

Diplomacy, Aid: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (16) - 3 = 13

I'm back but have 30 posts to read here so bear with me!

I thought Spellcraft checks required no action, at least according to the CRB. I don't think using Spellcraft to determine a spell as it's being cast requires casting detect magic, only IDing an item does.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

"Foreigner, I think we are beyond negotiation. The fey is using magic that will cause you to shrink and wither. We have to stop it, or perhaps put the nuisance to bed." She stares at the creature and flickers her eyes from green to black.

Slumber Hex on the atomie, DC 15 Will save

I'll be taking a trip of my own starting Friday, so please bot me if the need arises. Use Slumber Hex and Daze generously, or my spells. Use the light crossbow if you can't do anything else. I'll be back on the 19th.

Kn. Nature: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

"Careful, Foreigner! It seems the lantern has attracted that large beast," Lyn says as she steps forward and draws her signature light crossbow, pointing it at the elk.

I'll move ahead and take out a weapon

I think I need one more charge, Ashwell. Thanks guys! 1d8 ⇒ 4

Linria snaps out of her stupor and watches as the wound on her forearm closes up, Hanlin's magical energy stitching the fibers back together. "Thank you. I don't know what got over me. I .. can't believe Sayra would think about eating me!" She scowls at the fox. "Unacceptable!"

Dear diary: Today, my mother ate a chunk of my leg.

Sayra does the animal equivalent of pouting and moseys far from Linria, finding a spot next to Relas out of Lyn's nasty glare. She hears his whisper, but doesn't really understand him, she just appreciates his optimism and interest.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

"I don't see it, Hanlin. Sir Foreigner, what's over there?" Lyn calls out.

Fort saves does not a happy elven witch make.

Fort save, Lyn: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Fort save, Sayra: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

"I... I'm so hungry!" Linria says as she chomps into her arm, tearing out a chunk of flesh. "Wow I tastemff amazing!" At the same time, Sayra bites into her ankle, but Lyn is so into her flesh meal that she barely notices. Good thing too, or she'd surely clobber her.

Damage to Lyn: 2d4 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8Disabled

Bad set of rolls right there!

"Why would anyone take a stuffed head away? Odd..." Lyn says as Hanlin and Mishka point out the missing bear head.

When the group arrives at the site, Lyn holds Sayra back. "A misty clearing with standing stones. Typical for Ustalav, I suppose. Let's be careful." Linria says as she cautiously approaches the outer circle.

When Mishka returns under a different guise, Lyn is hardly surprised. "I knew there was more to you than you let on! There's no need to hide your true self from me, you know," Linria awkwardly winks at The Foreigner. "I like my men scarred and umm, what's the word," Cha: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 2 = 11 "Grotesque? No, that can't be it..." She realizes how she sounds and gets back to the matter at hand.
"Well, Ulisha wrote that she hid the lantern under a stone, so stand back. I have just the thing."

She motions with her hands while her eyes turn glossy and green, and before long, footsteps are heard where nothing can be seen. Sayra leaps back in fear.

"Servant, walk the perimeter once, then stand directly in front of the center slab."

It makes it seem like making an OP/cheese character in non-organized play is pretty straightforward. Boon Companion, I'm looking at you!

Sayra buries her head into Mishka's hand as he scratches her. Linria can't help but giggle at the innocence of the scene. "Haha, alright, I suppose she's interesting. Or something else. I'm glad to have her along with me, but we don't always get along." The fox pads over to Hanlin to get his fair share of attention as well. She finds his voice and gentle movements particularly soothing and licks his hand in search of vulpine kibbles and bits.

Ummm I hate being this person, but Evolved Companion isn't PFS-legal :(

See here, Ctrl+F 'Evolved Companion'

Linria gawks at Mishka.

No one is that polite. There's gotta be more to this one.

Sayra sniffs his boots, then looks up and cocks her head at Mishka. While yawning, her lip gets caught on her upper teeth and it almost looks like a smirk. The purple fox liked Mishka's gentleness and calm. It reminded her of Linria's father.

No - don't. Not now.

Lyn jumps over and pulls Sayra away from him by the scruff. "Sorry. She seems to like you."

Never really one to warm up too quickly unless she found you attractive, Linria stays near Ashwell for the majority of the journey, keeping an eye on Relas. He's... It's too chirpy to be trusted. What do you think?

Sayra, on the other hand, marches next to the cat, competitively staying one paw ahead of him at all times and even bumping into him a few times, perhaps on purpose.

Show off.

At the Inn, Lyn greets the old woman with a nod and awkward smile. "Good day. We're travelers from Absalom seeking rest. Oh, and my gnome friend here enjoys nature, he insisted we head to Ustalav despite the endless fog. Something about this hopefully-not-aptly-named Cannibal's Grove place..."

Sayra curiously sniffs the slimy slug, then pokes at its side with her paw. "Sayra, be nice. They've come to help us." Linria bends down and introduces herself to the gnome. "It's Lin. Or Lyn, with a 'Y'. I guess they sound the same. Heh." What am I even talking about? She steps around the gnome and back towards Ashwell. "The Forest of Veils," she says, tracing her finger along the page. Heading to Ustalav sounded like it could be fun, and the idea of a magical lantern of some sort doubly so. "I think I find the forest to be most interesting. Let's hope Sayra doesn't get too scared."

More like let's hope she doesn't *accidentally* get left behind...

<glare>