In a desperate position, Laijiri attempts to get free of the gator and substitute the club chump for its attentions.
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Attempting to throw Errick to the Gator
⯁ Escape?:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
⯁ Grapple@Errick:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
⯁ Grapple?:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
No, sorry. Surprise rounds don't really exist in PF2. You could get the drop on someone if stealthy and they didn't perceive you, but not when you are standing right in front.
Ah. Well. I did want to learn this system, all good.
The anger was a thing that was always present, close enough that it was something that was nearly at the edge, but he loved the focus that it brought. Wary looks were ignored, the anger fueling his strides towards the address. Like now, his stride was direct, purposeful, and it kept annoying distractions out of his path, like some of the more scared ones going as far as across the road.
Like they mattered.
The sun was about to set as he stalked up to the address, checking the card once more before comparing it to the rest of the buildings on the street. It looked like someone was at the same door that he was headed towards, and that was fine. If they wanted to interrupt this person that had word about Lamm, that was going to be a bit of a problem.
I was thinking that if everyone clicked the link and generated their own events, there'd maybe be some in common, along with a number of levels, which would let us know how long since the common incident that the characters joined up, when it occurred, and what it was.
Though that summary is pretty fantastic on its own...
She knew this drill. Stay quiet in the back, look reasonably attentive and bored as a situational staff member, and only really pay any distinct attention when called. Not too difficult to do, and it played the expectation of the individuals that they met. Perhaps they were on the right track going this way, but she was far out of her depth here at the College.
A lot of these areas were areas that she did not wander into. After all, there was not much of a reason to travel into districts like these. Most of the work that Desi had done was internal or from reference notes and journals. Not to mention that the individuals that she could find were not really the regimented type. Much like her, in fact.
Still, she did observe the barest of courtesies when her mentor showed. For the non(or barely, the difference was negligible)-mental types like her, that consisted of staying back and showing the proper deference to someone who could undoubtedly do a fair amount of harm to you with their mind.
Honestly, that was just prudent.
It was novel to see the "energetic" Ellais dim themselves to something more constrained, though.
Also congrats on starting Nursing School! Prepare to have no life, as the free time you once had will be spent studying. It'll be rewarding in the end, but... Yeah.
Winded from the climb up, Desidera had remained with the stabilized individuals until they could be recovered by the healers. She had been giving them the details of their injuries, but when she sees the others heading off, she moves to join them.
Giving the individuals a thorough search was tiresome, but it got done. "They're safe", she reported back to Xonti. While there was no danger of exposure, she left their belongings neatly stacked next to them, and left them modest coverings. Stretching as she stood up, she did not like the idea of climbing up that far so soon.
A brief nod was given, acknowledging the instructions while still tending to the others. "Desidera is my name. That other reference is a novel title, though— I'll have to practically strip them to check." A shrug was given at the modesty, having long since been inured to all manner of exposure.
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Perception:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 Heal:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
The revelation of the Adonais and the Ophiduan weakly drawing a breath set Desidera to nodding in appreciation of their hardiness as she set to treating them. "Still mind... Tough bastards."
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Heal(First Aid)@15:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 Heal(First Aid)@15:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23
Noticing Tai taking a look at the dead, she accompanied him in the rounds, though she did wear a resigned expression, and shook her head at him. "—Was the first thing I did", she murmured. The pair of newcomers were welcome, since anything that could do this was likely something that was too big for three individuals to handle alone. In her head, she was trying not to identify the causes of death for these individuals, as they were already beyond her reach.
"I expect we'll find out if we're alone down here soon, though."
Setting down in the clearing, Neap took stock of the situation and considered options. They still had a delivery to complete, and though this was a somewhat significant snag in the intended plan, putting a mark on their record was not a favorable outcome.
Cedona had helped them gain recognition, and not the public kind either, so seeing this through was an imperative.
As the ship was run through all of the landing procedures, and the power down procedures were running, they set to what had become routine for them— getting their daily nutrition. {"Dailies are done"}, they announced over the intercom.
It had been noted back at Absalom station that the production systems for this ship were incredibly basic, due to the choice to supply the nutrition system with the simplest ingredients. That also meant that they were the longest-lasting, but that was it. The nutri-cubes produced were bland and tasteless. In fact, it was Thak that noticed it first and brought it to light, which prompted Neap to demonstrate the reason for it.
The small blue spheres that were produced by the Stellifera's watery body shimmered as if there were a galaxy contained within them, and when ingested, they popped. Startling at first, but the taste of the contents were not what was expected. Refreshing and satisfying, the flavor came and went— tangible, significant, but indescribable.
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Megavitamin:2d4 ⇒ (2, 3) = 5 vitamins produced.
Megavitamin boba? Yuuuuuup.
Having remained silent as the others did their looking around, Desi had her arms folded, looking around the area that they currently occupied, having not ventured far from their original point. The significance of any of this was lost on her, so she stated the obvious, leaning up against the wall.
"We found an ancient hole— inside a surprise hole..." The deadpan expression she was wearing was evident in her tone. "Not positive so far. Is there nothing else living around here besides us?"
Jesus what a dystopia. "I think this little girl might be able to fling fire harder than me we should put her in charge"
How has this society survived this long? That's a...genuine question, now I think of it. WTF?
The whole psychic duel thing is from the printed material -- and yes, the more of this stuff I've read, the more it's not really clear to me why the PCs would be invested in preserving this society, which is the expectation of the AP.
That does raise a good point to explore, however. What could the benefits of such a society be, what momentum could be attained and maintained that would let it persist in its current state?
The fundamental point seems to be that psychic power is valued, which would allow for stratification of the culture— but that holds only as long as the alternative is not seen as better.
Huh.. Found This, which goes a fair ways to explaining some of that. Accumulated power with regular offshoots and an expansionistic drive will cement a lot. No magic, either... I'm curious about what lurks under the edges.
Assisting the others in the immediate area was finished just before the interjection of the official, she sighed and looked over the side where the others were headed. It would not be something that she would say aloud, but she was appreciative of the newcomer. Her kit was back at the barracks— granted, she kept the most important things on her person, but that was not a climb that she would have wanted to make alone. That did beg the question of what was the source of this crack... Something this big should have been seen?
The comment from Tai, following the newcomer was heard, and she was pretty sure that it was said on purpose. "Oi, that'd mean that it's on me! You take that back!", she called after him.
Waiting a few seconds before starting the descent, she sighed. It beat lingering in base, anyway.
I've made a decision, I'm going to do a 'half-gestalt', which means you get a free archetype (instead of changing out features, you stack them w/ your base class).
--Stack an archetype instead of replacing features (i.e. 'half-gestalt). If you pick a Vancian caster class, you have to use a psionic gestalt.
--I'm increasing the health totals a bit -- add constitution bonus to vigor, and double your vigor score at first level.
--You have two options for traits, either take 1 from each of the six categories, or stick with the original offer -- no category restrictions, with two free, and two available for drawbacks.
Hmmm... As a Medic, there are only a few options, with none of them especially attractive... I suppose Sanguinist will be the choice.
Catching up with the two humans, Xonti manages to "sheath" his Ophiduan Glaive to his back just enough so that the unwieldy-sized polearm is not in any position to obstruct his general ground movement.
The Human with the torn, patchless uniform, currently known to the Ophiduan Cryptic as Tai Leng, is presently crouched over [or near] an accessible part of the deep gash cutting through the nearby market grounds as a cacophony of disjointed voices could be heard murmuring from the nearby crowd of onlookers.
All of her attention was on treating what she could with what was available. Fortunately, none of the injuries that were in the immediate area were not severe, only bruises and a few cuts that could be easily cared for enough for them to get out of the area and to a house of mending. From time to time, she did look up to make sure that... Tai and the Ophiduan... Esk? remained in sight, though.
"Tai Leng. Formerly a member of our glorious military." he says with a somewhat sardonic tinge.
"Now, let's get going. From what this guy said, this might be ur-" he cuts off as the ground shakes and a part of the city...collapses.
"Change of plans. Is the city under attack?" without waiting for an answer, he moves toward the source of the disturbance to see what exactly happened.
It took two moments for her to comprehend the scale of what just happened, and amid the screams and pandemonium that was currently ensuing, she moved to follow Tai. It was more to keep from becoming isolated in the ongoing tumult, but better a pair or trio than solo, especially in this. Under her breath, she was running through enough invectives to almost give off a heat haze, shaken by the sudden pronouncement of the Seer.
It did not occur to her to not run towards the destruction, though her forward progress was intermittently stalled by momentary aid given to those that were in her reach that seemed like they needed it. "If that's an attack, we're going to have bigger problems pretty damn soon!"
It seems like we have at least 4 or 5 still about and interested in playing at this point, so I wonder if gestalt is really needed?...
I'm not a fan of gestalt, so I'll drop in favor of another if that's needed. Otherwise, I'm still here, but learning that the downside of being perceived as a "lesser class", means that when authority is talking, your input doesn't carry much weight.
That's cool though, because she's certain that once she's established as the lifesaver, the status difference won't count for much
"We all have to eat, and I need money for that. Somehow I doubt you work for free either."
Perhaps it was solidarity in a fellow human or something else, but Desi was motivated to be known after the exchange between the human and Ophiudan. She stepped up beside and just behind Tai Leng, hooking her thumbs in her belt to emphasize her calling.
"Effort has a better exchange value than a life. You get what you pay for."
It was not quite a challenge, but it was definitely a swagger in her step. She let the cocky smile stay as she tilted her head at the investigator. She could read the exchange, they were short on hands, and going to do what they had to, they would just make it easier for them to perhaps save face a little longer.
The white-robed ophiduan who has just identified himself to Tai Pao Leng as an 'Ah Kulel', steps forward from the two psionic knights flanking him to inspect the dromite, his lemon-drop eyes narrowing with an admixture of curiosity and wariness.
Upon espying the purple slug, the investigator is quickly overcome by a look of horror, and calls hoarsely to his attendants,
"Pajtal, Hemith, come quickly, this youth is possessed by a puppeteer!"
Leisure was fleeting, her time in the company had shown that— so as the human with the attire that lacked insignias where they should have been came back into view, she took further note and paid closer attention. What cemented her attention on him was the manner in which he caught and held the small insectoid.
'I know that from somewhwere.'K.(Martial):1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
Realizing that she had sat up and was very obviously taking notice, she sighed as she recognized the end of her leisure of watching the colors and the city flow by. A quick stretch and bounce on the balls of her feet settled the belts and bandolier, her smooth steps taking her towards the incident just as a patrol reached him before she did. Two Knights and an inspector seemed a bit much for a chase, but this was the market. They may have been headed elsewhere and got distracted.
Whatever situation this was, she gave it enough space to visibly show that she was not a part of it, but kept herself in view of both parties. Lurking behind Knights was asking for unnecessary trouble, and in case this got strange, deniablity about being an accessory was a good thing.
That was, until she caught the words "parasite" and "medical", and then realized that the plainly visible iconography of a certified healer on her buckle might just get her drawn into this.
The announcement of "Puppeteer" raised both eyebrows, and kept her interest. She looked over at the human again, giving him an appraising look. Catching something like that in a busy market is quite impressive.
Question for the future: Regarding Access Psionic Talent vs Unlocked talent— the former being a prereq for the latter, would it be safe to eschew Wild Talent for Unlocked Talent as recommended in the link?
It will be good to have two different healers, this should be interesting as I mostly stay in the back and pick off the baddies while healing the frontlines. How does the medic work?
It's a lot of (Ex) abilities that can let me function as an in-combat healer without expressly disrupting the flow. As an action I can apply a small number of HP to the target that may have various benefits. Definitely not the "You Can Be Whole Again" of a Cleric, but more of a "You're still alive, and you'll heal eventually".
DSP wrote:
"Medics perform damage control for their parties. A medic’s job on the battlefield is often frantic as they must quickly prioritize their allies needs in order to best keep everyone alive. Some medics do this by performing emergency healing on allies, while others act to stop problems before they arise through proactive engagement."
That it's in Path of War, means that there are a couple of nifty tricks that could be managed, depending on style.
Broken Blade: "Too much to learn, didn't really bother with weapons." Unarmed neatness
Iron Tortoise: "If I can stay up, you can stay up." AC boosts and shield shenanigans
Golden Lion: "We are the Pride." Save boosts, morale bonuses, and extra movement for EVERYONE!
Steel Serpent: "Every strike weakens you." SA and boosted poison use.
Solar Wind: "Bullseye." Sharpshooting tricks, ranged defense, and elemental damage.
The issue is deciding who she is. I'm thinking she found peace on the archery range, away from the chaos of a reorganizing mercenary group.
I have been contemplating how to manage the shaping of the items that can be crafted per the Craft Symbiont feat. The finished result if left untended is certainly functional and useable, but lacks any touch of artistry... What would you recommend to manage this? Heal? Its own Craft skill?
I'm looking for that subtle disquiet that belies the beauty of the item and the benefits make tolerable, not full-on body horror. Way too easy to put in no effort for something ugly.
Work has been back-to-back lately, I'll try to get a sense of her character up with the next post— which should include the mostly completed sheet. I'm just terrible at purchasing equipment.
Android Biotechnician Medic Biohacker 2 | SP 12/12 | HP 16/160 | RP 5/5 | EAC 11 • KAC 12 | F+3, R+0, W+0 | Init +0 | Perc +0 | Spd 30 | Active Conditions: None
Just arriving, the Android took in the number of individuals trying to get through one door with some curiosity.
Often, locked or even closed portals were often the source of much consternation, they had observed. It was often to the amusement of others, seeing the actions that would be taken to release the lock on the portals.
Was this... "amusing"?
It certainly bore some similarities to the patterns of many jokes that were referred to as "strange colored".
"A Shobhad, Brenneri, and Shirren stood in front of a locked door...", they began, testing the feel of the words against the pattern.
A moment of consideration, and they shook their head, discarding the idea, and cast about for anything that would serve as a prybar.
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Perception:1d20 ⇒ 10
"The pay!" came the reply with a cheery playful sarcasm. "Self promotion, a chance to demonstrate my skill–" at that, she indicated the heavily modified Reaction Cannon, "-as well as proof-of-concept. That I get to do that, and step in for our fallen family just makes it all the better" , she finished, ticking the reasons off on one paw.
"Besides, did you see the feed? Some of that was definitely not just mined rock, and the chance to get my mitts into something that hasn't been touched yet? Eheheheheheeheee..." the laughter was all ecstatic anticipation, and her rubbing her hands together before she stopped, remembering that she was in reasonably polite company.
Into the couple seconds of silence that followed, her tone was contrite. "...anyone else bring explosives besides me?"
Character Creation: What stat generation system works for you? I am flexible, so as long as it does not break the system, I'm game. My default is 4d6, drop lowest, best of two sets, but provided the decision is unanimous, I can go with others.
Even the air that blew by on the warm breeze made her smile, an almost jubilant expression that turned to a wide grin that was as bright as her shock of aquamarine hair, feeling the tug of the wind blow against her from her exposed position on the pinnacle of the promontory. The sensation sent electric thrills down her limbs, nervous jitters of adrenaline starting as she stared out at the beauty of a sea of green. Native Castrovel.
There was nothing like the feeling of coming home, or maybe it was the feeling of being surrounded by nature. The air was heavy with moisture, the low roar of Jamaar's Cascade dwarfing them by the sheer scope of the falls. For her it was equal parts thrilling and humbling. The horizon was dark, the rumble of the coming storm not close enough to be heard over the sound of the falls that was almost more felt than heard.
"C'mon, isn't this feeling just amazing?"
The laughter in her voice was an expression of the sheer wonder of their surroundings, looking back at the others that she had convinced to join her on this recreational hike, feeling an odd echo from her words.
Figures, all of them. Vague forms that held the shape and posture of her companions, each of them a relative distance away that was both close enough to easily touch, but at the same time so very incomprehensibly far. Faceless, more concept than corporeal, she reached out— for? through? one of them as she fell into blue. Falling? There was a moment of panicworryfear that vanished like a popped bubble. She was racing the water down, her backwards fall turning into a headfirst dive, hitting the water with token resistance, the sounds of the jungle's waterfall disappearing like a shed garment, leaving only the steady rumble of the flume.
Exhale.
Pressed in blue, wrapped in weight and resistance and silence, she floated. Swimming meant air, so where was the surface? Where were the bubbles? She would need to breathe soon, which way was up? There were shapes in the water; there had to be a direction; was she going to get ea—
She found air with the opening of her eyes and a belated realization, the dreams of Castrovel fading as all dreams do, muddled concepts drifting into muddled feelings, until the strongest remained, only to be gone in seconds. The ceiling of her cabin was bathed in the muted blue light and underwater sounds of the AtmoScene™ Suite, the idle vibrations of the ship in transit through The Drift riding that line between sound and feeling as it always did. Zamasea mustered just enough focus to flick the "off" switch of the 'Suite with a thought. Content, she closed her eyes to try to chase down the dream, shifting her position before losing the thread almost immediately to sleep.
