Malik Rimeclan's page

Malik Rimeclan wrote:

Sorry, incoming.

[dice=Prof. Herbalist]1d20 + 5

Huh. Might as well not roll.

With a +5, just always Take 10 on your Day Job. Guaranteed 15 gp.

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Paxal returns to Malik's herbal kiosk with the bag of herbs he purchased from his friend a few days earlier.
I don't know about these, man. I did what you said. Ground a handful of 'em up with some fresh goat's milk and peppermint oil and spread it on my face. It didn't take out the wrinkles.
He leans in close to Malik as he points at the wrinkles on his face.
See?

I was seein' crazy colors and chasing giant butterflies. Then I walked into a wall that I thought was a magic portal and almost broke my nose. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in Drandle Dreng's office completely naked with Venture Captains standing over me...
Can I have my money back? Keep a gold piece as a restock fee.

"I should charge you more for that. Keep the money. I'll sell the stuff to some- ... one else."

"By the way... You know any goat herder in the area?"

"Well, we should have also brought back the artifact, but ... I don't think it getting destroyed - I hope - is a bad thing.., Malik chips in once more. "I'm willing to forego my payment; if whatever we just experienced never happens again.

After escaping the collapsing structure, Malik looks back and smiles.

"A welcome finale."

Sorry, incoming.

Prof. Herbalist: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Huh. Might as well not roll.

Malik walks over to the obelisk, and looks at it. He doesn't touch this one, though. Not even with a 10 ft pole.

He looks back up at the chains. "This place needs to be undone. Any ideas?"

Damn racist chains always bringing us half orcs down, amirite?

Reflex: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16

Is that half damage or fully negated?

Malik hastily walks up to the cough shady cough man, a spear of ice already forming in his hand as he moves in. He goes for a strike and tosses the thing towards the man covered in shadows.

"You heard the nice lady. Kneel down."

Fair enough. Moving west is difficult, so I will walk into 10 ft distance from him and do a an empowered ranged blast instead.

Looks like the forum ate my post yesteday. Let's try again, then.

Malik moves towards the nearest creature. As he moves, an ice shard forms in his hand, and the half orc swings it at the figure in an attempt to strike.

Jesus. I just read the gameplay thread and woke up my dog by laughing.

There comes a point when indecision becomes a decision itself. LEEEROOOOOOOOY....

Malik moves outside enters the large hall and disappears behind the chains.

"Sounds like a plan. Go ahead, Zzorn.", Malik nods and remains in place.

Delay

When the chanting starts, Malik is on the way deeper into the maze of the upper level platforms. He immediately stops and raises both of his eyebrows in surprise. He returns a prolonged and surprised "Yeeees?" to Elby's question. "To be fair... The place obviously has... erm - powers? Let's see anyway,"

He starts descending.

"Did you check that those shae were dead before you chucked them over the side?"

Elby rushes to a chain, hoping that a few cuts on the way down is not as bad as an attempt to jump would be.

Hah. I mean it wasn't explicitly stated but it's one of those assumptions, you know. Like you never see posts describing the characters' morning bowel movements here, etc.

"I would be grateful if you could. You probably know better than me how these things work. I dabble, but it fails more often than not.", Malik smiles at Notos and hand over the wand.

Malik pulls out a wand. "Paxal if you are injured, this thing can help if anyone here knows how to use it. Or if anyone else is injured, actually."

Offering a CLW wand for emergencies.

Malik stops for a brief moment. Gives Igor's idea some thought. He does not do a thorough search, but a really quick one - patting around the pockets area, if they have any at all.

"I assume we will travel the same way we traveled inside. We will likely find whatever they are carrying when we descend back."

He stands up. "If you wish to search for some form of - special - trinkets, go ahead. They might have something useful. I don't read auras myself, so no help there."

Once they are searched, he kicks the bodies off the platform. WHen the first body is on the way, he looks into the depth. "Makes you wonder if we will find them as piles of chains in black goo."

Malik gives paxal a hearthy laughter. "I fully approve of that action. They got what was coming to them."

He looks around. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. There might be something else. And probably is."

He drags the bodies towards the edge up north and kicks them down. "Told you I'd do it.", he shrugs.

"Let's try this again, shall we?", Malik mutters as he gathers vapour from the room into his palm and hurls it in the shae's direction.

Malik materialises a blob of water in his hand and hurls it towards the ... barbed chain enthusiasts.

The material slams into a wall with force, and provides a convenient shower after the exhausting ascent.

Gottem

After fianlly ascending via the bladed chains, Malik has cuts and slashes in several places. Nothing too serious, it seems - still pretty irritating, and it shows on his face. He wipes his bloodied hands on his clothes. "I'll throw them off this damn platform if it's the last thing I do.", he whispers to Paxal, then move forward towards the indicated hallway.

Not sure if I can move further. Made 30 ft of movement.

Malik reaches for his belt and unstraps a lenght of rope to help. "Should be around 50 ft as well. I might have cut some to make fire, but probably not much."

Malik will knee to the prisoners that were cut down and attempt to redirect the flow of liquids in their bodies to ease the pain. "Let me help you...", he tells all of them. Then offers his waterskin and gently pats them while they drink, if they agree.

Malik walks into the room and his eyes seem to be wider every second. "By Ioz'om, whatever entity is doing this must be purged from existence."

He walks towards the nearest breathing captive.

Malik points above and looks towards the ceiling. "That or wherever that... liquid... flows., he looks at the black stream flowing through the room. "I'm not sure about either of those options, if I can say so myself."

Again, slap me in the back.

"Oh yeah. Those are Chardimars, easy to confuse by name alone."

Kn Nature: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Malik tries to recall what Chiardmars are. He thinks for a few moments, and rubs his temples.

"The man is clearly delusional from the pain he endured. Chiardmars are freshwater fish."

Malik drops the chain to the floor and knees down next to the man, attempting to assess his condition. "I won't ask whether you are hurt, I just want to know how much."

Heal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

He takes his waterskin and offers some water.

The half orc moves closer and grabs the chain with all his might. However strong that could be. He makes sure to apply most of his weight. The thing is slipping as Zzorn is wailing at the links, but he tries his best.

"Hold on old man. Sweet release is coming.", he mutters.

Malik suddenly scoffs. ”The man seems to be in pain and scared. Probably of something on the ceiling? I don't know. But if this is the case, releasing him is the right thing to do, Zzorn. Let me help you."

"Well, that -is- disturbing. I'll be keeping watch so we don't get ambushed.", disgusted, Malik turns around to not look at the man, but keeps listening in as he observes the other part of the hall.

Guys, I will have limited availability over the weekend. Leaving in some 2 hrs and will be away until Sunday afternoon-ish. I will be on phone and will check the thread every now and then, but if we get to something crucial and you need to rush, bot me. Everything you need for it is in Malik's profile under Botting Instructions and Frequent Rolls spoilers.

"Given the looks of this place; if it -is- alive, that's probably one more reason to poke it with a dagger. But you make a good point."

Malik quietly takes out his dagger, pokes the ooze and carefully smells the substance.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

ASSUMING that does not cause anything to pounce at us... He shakes his head in confusion and shrugs. He then makes a quick swiping motion to throw the ooze to the floor and wipes the blade against his boot.

"I'm good with flora. Not ... whatever this is. Come on Zzorn... We have Elby right here.", he points towards his kin. He takes a second to realise what he said, and follows up - "No offense, it's just ... a loud outfit. I'm sure it's very functional otherwise."

Also that was supposed to be whispered. I should have mentioned that, but now that the jig is up...

Malik moves forward with the group. He's trying to identify sounds that are not clangs of metal, droplets of blood, and condensed moisture hitting the puddles on the floor.

"Fascinating place. Not in a good way, however... I can feel the hairs on my neck already."

Malik takes a few breaths to ready up. "You squishy folk get in front of me. I'll cover you from the rear."

Malik can do ranged attacks towards the frontline and melee in the back in case of an ambush. I'll stay in the back of the bunch.

Stealth if we're sneaking about: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (14) + 12 = 26

"Golbrier, are you sure there was no diviner involved in your capture? Anyone here can check for that sort of thing?", Malik interjects.

"I'd hate to make plans when we are... watched. Maybe then we can send them on a wild goose chase. For example, book a ship passage in your name or something similar. Or if any of your friends here could do that. Preferably as soon a possible. I can cover the expenses. Just tell me how much."

"Fair point. Let's go."

See post above for continuation

Ha! All this time, mission impossible theme is playing in the background.

Malik assists Zzorn with a rope when possible, and waits for the man to get back. "Suggestion. Why don't you just climb down thorugh the window to keep Golbier company, and I will try to sneak downstairs and tell the others we're ready?"

After that is all done, Malik pulls back the rope, locks the doors, and heads downstairs. He tries to wait for an opportune moment, when the bounty hunter is preoccupied with discussion, and not looking in his general direction.

Once downstairs, he approaches whoever is not directly interacting with the woman. "Masters, your belongings are unpacked upstairs in our room. You also wanted me to remind you of the meeting we had. We should probably head out if we want to make it on time."

"Hm..., Malik scoffs at the hallway. "Nothing of use here. Maybe check the other rooms? There might be windows on the exterior wall..."

Did we axtually get legitimate access to one of the rooms? I'm not sure if there was an interaction with the staff at all.

"I assume you mean quietly...", Malik whispers and looks around. "Probably not. We can try to bust the door open, but let's see what we can find. Try looking under the rug?", he shrugs as he looks for anything useful.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Are the doors reinforced? Is there a key in a nearby flowerpot, by chance? Any damage on the door that could be taken advantage of? That kind of stuff.

The half orc moves over to Zzorn, still feinting a leg injury. "Coming...", he stops by the Ulfen. "Which rooms?", he asks, as he tightens the belts on the backpacks.

Malik looks at the exterior of the building to find any possible escape (or entry) routes on the walls. Grasping vines, drain pipes that might hold a person, or similar.

Anything of the sort in sight if I circle around? Also, is there a stable attached to the place?

Right I am back, sorry for the disappearance.

Malik's clothes are nothing fancy to begin with, and his appearance is not one of a noble line. He will purchase some clothing more fitting of a local plebean, and add some some manacles to flesh out the look. Once he is done with shopping he comes to the ship and meets up with the party.

"Right. Who will be my master for the next few days? I have some experience with being locked up. I'll play my part.

Once we arrived in Nisroch and the Broken Cup.

The local weather is not an issue for the Malik. As a matter of fact, it seems the half orc enjoys the drops of rain on his shaven head. As he moves with the pathfinder, the chains from his half-closed manacles keep ringing as he slowly moves onward, feinting an injured leg.

When the pathfinders apprach the Broken Cup, he moves closer to the group, and humbly speaks to them: "Master, will you require my help inside or should I wait in the stables to be summoned?"

Hey everyone. A heads up from me. I won't be available over the weekend. I'll try to get a post in today but no guarantees. On phone at the moment. Full force on Sunday.

A few seconds after Zzorn sits down, the door opens again and another half orc walks through. He ducks to not hit the doorframe with his bald, tattoo'd head. WIth one of his canines partially broken and a few scars on his face, he seems like the guy that got beaten every day as a child. Against a rock. A sharp one. Anyway ... he wears a a fur coat from what seems like a bear, and the bindings are covered with a fox pelt. Under that, a simple robe, with what seems like mithral shining from underneath the neck.

"Hello.", he nods at everyone in the room. "My name is Malik. You wait for Heidmarch here?", he quickly looks at everyone, but when asking the question, he locks eyes with Zzorn. "I saw you riding into town. I think there's something with your horse?"

You drop a line like that and expect me to just sit it out?

Thanks for the games, folks. Sorry for being a bit slow towards the end. I'm stretched a bit thin, and was on a bad connection in the last week.

boon?: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Malik hears Skye, but sees the boars moving in on Kitajo. He decides to protect him instead of destroying the bud, trusting Rallas can manage that part.

He hurls a ball of water at one of the boars. Red

Water Blast, Physical, Empowered, Point Blank: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 8 + 1 = 234d6 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (6, 1, 2, 2) + 9 + 1 = 21