Malkor Rixis's page

Mine looks good, thanks GM Nowruz!

"They gave up the information fairly quickly, for crazies." Malkor remarks as they finish dealing with the cultists. With the information returned and the mission completed, Malkor sighs in relief.

What a wild imp chase....

He spends his next month taking up his free drinks at the Wounded Wisp and milling about.

---

At the meeting he seems infuriated that Dreng did not even attend.

"I stay around this place only for him to not show, at least we can deal with someone a bit more normal...I hope." he growls while waiting to meet Valsin.

"If you want to rouse them, I have no problems working them over for answers." Malkor says while collecting their weapons.

I don't have spells yet if someone has Stabilize prepared otherwise I can try heal and smelling salts, starting with the archer whom he would love to beat the information out of.

Heal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Heal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Heal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Hearing his brother yapping around the corner, he stomps around to attack as well regardless of his sorry state.

Greatsword w/ Raging Song & Power Attack: 1d20 + 6 + 2 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (17) + 6 + 2 + 1 - 1 = 25
Damage: 2d6 + 6 + 2 + 3 ⇒ (1, 6) + 6 + 2 + 3 = 18

*gack* "Was that a ballista..." Malkor says coughing up a bit of blood and barely holding to consciousness. Through his blurred vision he sees the archer go down, relieved but disappointed he couldn't take revenge.

He moves towards the others, dragging his sword behind him.

Move and Total Defense: +4 AC for round.

Free: Enter Bloodrage.

"GAH, these stupid tunnels. It is hard to get to anything!" he roars as he winds past Niocholu before heaving his greatsword in an upward arc at the archer.

Greatsword: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 6 + 2 = 16
Damage: 2d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (4, 2) + 6 + 2 = 14

Malkor moves up with the others, bloodlust taking him over.

Appraise: 1d20 ⇒ 1

"I have no idea the significance of these papers but you are right we can let the old man deal with them." he says gladly letting Uoralveren take the papers as he turns to his brother, he puts his hand gently on his head. Then extends a hand for the gem.

"That goes to our employers too or I will give you a bald spot. They pay for what we find." he growls.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

He helps look over everything one last time before getting ready to leave.

"If that is everything, we can complete this mission before some vermin start crawling in these tunnels or that fool fails his test and the guards return."

"Surprising they could have created a hideout in such a popular place, perhaps we won't be set upon by bats as we collect these papers." he says checking over the papers and holding up the gem.

"That fool throws his life away, hoping for a miracle. We can find benefit in the poor decision, at least." Malkor says searching the tombs for one matching the three from the wall.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

"You remembered what the coin is, Megellia. Good...we are getting closer...now we just need a Wayfinder. And here comes one now." Malkor says taking the coin from Magellia.

He stomps over to the halfling, "Janira from the Wounded Wisp. It seems our mission has us needed to use a Wayfinder. My brother and I, well, we don't have one yet. This mission has us running around the city." he asks as politely as possible, as he holds up the coin.

We were puzzling over why the coin would be there, no detect magic, then moved on to Fimbrik's where I think we were supposed to have a name given with the letter to narrow down what to look for on this wall.

What is the name with Fimbrik's letter?

"A pile of riddles, fake Pathfinders and failed aspirants. What of this other name Fimbrik supposedly left and this wiffle. Then there is that odd coin...perhaps we can find someone that knows what it is?" he says working through what they have so far.

"That was a little better. Actually got to swing a weapon and see what everyone is capable of...time to figure out what this annoying little gnome is up to." he says as the final bug is dispatched, breathing heavily for a moment as his rage subsides.

Walking into the living room, Malkor grows more frustrated seeing the illusions interacting with them.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

"What a mess of newspapers...some of these are from years ago. Rather than move the more recent ones into the basement they are stacked up by the door. How long can an illusion last on its own?" he says waving his hands through the reading Fimbrik.

When they find the letter, his growl turns to a roar, "And the trail leads away again!"

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

He storms off to calm down but notices a two potions sitting on a windowsill, covered in a bit of dust. Picking them up, he brings them back to the group.

"Can anyone identify these liquids? Fimbrik doesn't need them but I don't want risk being turned into a rabbit or whatever this gnome would be keeping around in potion form." he asks.

"That is some strength in your arm." Malkor remarks as he is about to enter, only to surprised by the beetles!

"Bigger targets, finally!" he says drawing his blade to strike, then entering a bloodrage.

Move: Draw Weapon. Free: Bloodrage. Standard: Attack @ Green.

Greatsword (With Bloodrage and Inspired Rage): 1d20 + 6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 1 + 1 = 13
Damage (With Bloodrage): 2d6 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (3, 1) + 6 + 1 = 11

He hefts up the greatsword and attempts to slam it down on the green beetle.

"Niocholu, both will be loud but let us start with the door." Malkor suggests, before putting his own shoulder into it, stepping out of the way for Niocholu to try if he can't cut it.

Strength: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Under the helmet, the group can hear an audible groan. He turns back to the others, "Can someone pick the lock? Breaking in doors can draw unwanted attention."

"Hmmm, the fool must be deaf." Malkor says rapping on the glass window, hoping to attract his attention.

"It must serve some purpose, coins are not usually constructed like that?" Malkor says unaware of what it could be.

"Let it be known, my brother is usually the one doing the talking. Imagine where that gets us." he quips dryly.

Strength: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

"I will provide assistance without the song. You too Valentin...get over here!" Malkor says adding hos own strength to the task.

"Arkath. My thoughts are simple enough...we are here to visit the grave of an acquaintance. Where my thoughts falter, my might is backs it up. Yet, this is your domain so it is better if we come to an agreement rather than comparing your brain to my brawn." he says closing the rest of the distance, nearly touching his helmet to the head of the Asmodean.

Intimidate (Influence Attitude): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"I prefer giant spiders over small ones. They provide a better target...than those bats seeing as I used my last vial of acid." Malkor adds in before they head off. He seems disinterested in the odd Venture-Captain.

At the mausoleum, he just watches his brother talk, with his helmet luckily hiding the unimpressed look on his face. He just nods, for now.

"Brother, it would be unseemly if you let the others bleed out after staunching my own. Quickly." Malkor urges Valentin to bandage the others while helping, with a healthy dose of scoffing.

Wisdom (Niocholu): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Wisdom (Uoralveren): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

He then stomps back to the bar, with a growl at Heryn he pushes himself outside to wait for the others.

"Venture-Captain, that establishment has a bat problem but we have you wine. The question is what you want us to do with it now? Perhaps this mausoleum" he says sharing the information found.

"Bah, that was my only vial." Malkor says as he knocks away bats, heading back into the cellar hoping to find something of use in killing them.

Double Move.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Malkor growls at the biting bats before moving away, drawing an acid flask from his belt pouch.

"Niocholu, get out of there." he warns as he prepares to lob the flask.

Lol, we had the same idea.

"This mystery is starting to peak my interest. What fate had the authors of these notes met, likely, a dark one if this place was left in this state." Malkor agrees preparing to leave for this mausoleum.

Earlier
"Thank you, Niocholu. We are both here now...so we have proven our strength thus far. Here is to continuing that." Malkor says with a nod.

"So you say but it could just be the old man's extended closet or worse...where do these tunnels lead..." he adds clearly not yet impressed, but he heads in with his brother.

He examines the light source seeing if he can pull the chain from the wall to use as his own personal torch.

"It would have been more amusing if you fell." he says with no inflection, once they are on the other side.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

"This appears to be the correct vintage, on this rack. Finally I see the end of this escapade!" Malkor says with surprising eagerness.

"Our errand is ever expanding...now we get to delve into an unkempt cellar over a dilapidated board. Well, I am no carpenter but I will brace the plank first if no one can repair it...quickly." he says with a deep sigh.

"Noted, thank you Janira." he says with a nod as she leaves.

Malkor quickly answers Heryn, upon their return. "Oh yes, this should be quick."

"Oh...oh yes, my dear brother. Do not let me step on your pride or secrecy, for that matter." he sighs through his teeth.

"Your sincerity is remarkable, Janira. My brother and I barely survived childhood. Our home is a dark and dangerous place especially for the homeless. Cruelties, hunger, and disease were staples of our younger days...but we were saved by questionable people. Doomsayers and cultists some would call them." he says pausing to look down at the emblem on his chestplate.

He shakes his head, "Even in my dreams I hear whispers about the world being far too gone but I have learned to not trust, even the hand that feeds may try to poison you. I need to see the world and the people in it before I can relent to the urges of by blood. The Pathfinder Society sees the world and works within it, what better place is there for me to be?" he says with a grim bluntness that softens the shock of his words.

"No, we are here thanks to an...errand from Drandle Dreng. To retrieve a bottle of spirits. Seems rather minuscule of a task and now we are waiting for the bartender to get a replacement." Malkor chimes in as the others seem to enjoy their conversations.

"Those are along the lines of what I expected for a mission. However, I don't need protection, Renart, the only risk I see so far is boredom and a slight cold." Malkor responds to the Kitsune, realizing some of the rain penetrated his armor and he literally a bit wet behind his ears.

"Well...my brother may be taken by vanity and sloth at the moment but I will hear what this Janira girl is speaking about, while you talk to the historian." he says placing his gauntlet on the head of Valentin and mussing the hair as he walks by. He approaches the table of Janira and begins to listen to her story, not interrupting.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 ⇒ 6
Knowledge (Local): 1d20 ⇒ 15
Knowledge (Local): 1d20 ⇒ 10
Knowledge (Local): 1d20 ⇒ 9

Malkor is a newcomer to Absalom and the Pathfinder Society, finding himself unsure of any of the patrons.

He will sit at their table, taking his helmet off, and stare at Heryn till their replacement arrives.

"I will take one of your regular spirits. If we must wait then I will be a proper customer." he says in a hoarse voice to whoever comes to take their drink order.

"Are you all new to the Pathfinder Society? Is this what they consider a typical mission..." he asks the others at the table.

Malkor growls at his brother, taking the map off his armor and reviewing it. His stomps slowly ramp up to a run as he follows the android.

"Ridiculous." he says to himself. Definitely can't keep up in my armor, but will run nonetheless.

He arrives shortly after Magellia and catches his breath under his helmet, while he lets the others speak.

Knowledge (Untrained): 1d20 ⇒ 4

Underneath the helmet, Malkor would be wearing a shocked and confused expression on his face.

What is the practicality of this ruse...

He slowly returns the gold coin to his pouch as the mission is laid out, unfortunately, he remained quiet as his own information on the Society was scarce. He listened to the rain pinging off his armor as he waited for the others to ask any questions.

As they trudge through the rain, Malkor dons his helmet once again. His feet heavy as they navigate streets.

"Have you anything to offer us? Information specifically, a man by the name of Drandle Dreng should be in this area, have you seen or heard anything that may be useful." Malkor says staring down at the man as he digs out a gold coin from his beltpouch. He balls his fist around it tightly waiting for an answer.

A tall armored man walks in, his ebon mail adorned with the symbol of a jackal eating an eclipsed sun. He removes his helmet revealing a gaunt human face and sickly green hair reaching his shoulders.

"Pardon my lateness. Far too many people rushing around this place. Did I hear you correctly that our contact isn't even here?" the man says with annoyance in an Ustalavic accent.

Turning to the elven man he shakes his head, "No, I am not familiar with this city but-"

Being cut off by the gnome popping her head back into the room...he drops his helmet, allowing it to clatter against the floor. He rubs his temples with his free hands, the skin appearing far too loose, for those watching.

"My name is Malkor Rixis from Lozeri in Ustalav. I have taken this commission to see the world, for various reasons. And this is my brother..." he says coldly, waving him onward.

Player: Agent Eclipse
Character: Malkor Rixis, Human Bloodrager 1
PFS: 54329-18
Faction: Sovereign Court
Day job roll: N/A

Are you new to PbP?: No.
Have you played or GMed this scenario before?: Played twice, over a year ago.