Mogmurch the Mad's page

Thanks for GMing! :)

Character Name: Akio Fukunaga

With Rempty waiting for him at home, Mogmurch doesn't come near the love potion. The lady's already crazy enough as she is, and the last thing he'd want is for her to steal the elixir and trick him into drinking it.

He's much more interested in the fireworks. His eyes light up when he sees them, and it's only a matter of time before something else gets lit up.

"Yes, good idea, let's try one for Chief!" he grabs the paper candle that Chuffy offers him and runs off to the deck to 'test' it.

Grand Lodge, please :)

"You good as dead!"

AOO: 1d20 ⇒ 14
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

Attack: 1d20 ⇒ 8
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Fortunately, Vorka's blade doesn't even graze Mogmurch, who counterattacks.

"We'll get you!" he taunts her, as his blade opens yet another wound.

Attack: 1d20 ⇒ 18
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Enjoying this little game, Mogmurch slices again at the resilient goblin, breaking into hysterical, sadistic laughter as Poog draws blood.

Attack: 1d20 ⇒ 12
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Barely taking time to lick Longtung's blood off his blade, Mogmurch moves to attack Vorka.

"Licktoads kill, Licktoads slice!"

Attack: 1d20 ⇒ 11
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1

I forgot to add the +1 Magical Damage to my attack, so it should be 4 not 3

Drawing his blade, Mogmurch strides across the room, getting behind Longtung as it is still distracted with Chuffy, flanking the frog.

Attack (Sickened, Flanking): 1d20 + 2 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 - 2 + 2 = 15
Damage: 1d4 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 1 - 2 = 3

Mogmurch brings one of his small vials to his lips, and drinks its questionable content. He grunts in pain as the very structure of his bones seems to shift into something bigger and more intimidating as he steps into the room.

Strength +4, -2 Int, Ac bumped to 19. Moved my pawn on the map

"Check if the door's locked! We'll feast once the fireworks are ours," Mogmurch replies.

"Don't drink!" Mogmurch warns. "I put acid in it!"

Vexed to have missed again, Mogmurch slices at the dog, but a sudden nausea interrupts his attack.

Attack: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 1 - 2 = 1
Damage: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1

Okay!

Quickly realizing that he'll never have the physical strength to move the cauldron, let alone turn it over, Mogmurch draws his blade and joins in the fight.

Attack: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 1 - 2 = 10
Damage: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0

Aware that he won't be much help in melee, Mogmurch glances at the cauldron, wondering if he'd be able to spill its boiling, acid-filled water on the dog.

Not my turn yet, but I was wondering if it'd be possible to spill the contents on the cauldron on Cuddle, or if the cauldron is too heavy or too hot for a small goblin to turn over ^^

Instead of a nice explosion, Mogmurch unfortunately hears nothing but a muted splash, and not a single cry of pain.

"Nobody's home," he tells his teammates in a disappointed tone, before sulkily climbing down of the roof.

Climb: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2 Welp
Reflex save if needed (+2 Bouncy trait): 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14

Once inside the room, he starts searching it for nice stuff, looking inside the cauldron to see if he can spot his precious vial.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Climb: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 16

Mogmurch attempts to climb on the roof, in spite of his small frame and his nearly atrophied muscles. As he gets on top, however, it finally dawns to him that, if the fireworks happen to be stored in this cabin, throwing a bomb would make everything explode (which is good), himself included (which is not so good). Instead, he settles for the less dangerous option of an acid vial, which he drops in the chimney.

Sorry guys, I didn't know if you were on board with the plan and didn't realized you were waiting for me ^^"

Mogmurch contemplates licking the dog's blood off his blade, but the taste upsets his already painful stomach. Instead, he wipes it on his rags, smearing them with red.

"Someone in there?" he asks his teammates, staring at the smoke coming out of the cabin's chimney. "I can get on the roof and drop a bomb," he snickers.

Mogmurch runs to the upper deck, ready to attack the mangy dog from the right.

Full move

Mogmurch tries to deliver the killing blow.

"Die, mutt!"

Attack: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 1 - 2 = 11
Damage: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1

Excited by the dog's blood, Mogmurch takes another swing at him, but widely misses.

Attack: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 1 - 2 = 4
Damage: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2

Mogmurch moves to slice at the dog, keeping it busy for the rogue to reposition himself.

Applying Sickened maluses

Attack: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 1 - 2 = 16
Damage: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0

"Sure, watch this!"

Although his aim is still at the experimental stage, Mogmurch unsteadily throws a bomb at the mutt.

Attack (Bomb, DC 12): 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 - 2 = 5
Damage: 1d6 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 - 2 = 2

"Maybe," Mogmurch replies to Reta. He draws out his weapon. "Go check? I come with you."

As Chuffy is busy with trying to open the door, Mogmurch inspects the clutter of objects littering the main deck for anything useful.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Mogmurch yelps as the wasps mercilessly sting him, but his armor thankfully protects him from much of the damage. His body isn't nearly as wounded as his pride...

Okay, retconning my action

Reluctant to be the one to catch the mudball but not wanting to be the target of Poog's fire bolts, Mogmurch reluctantly waits for his turn.

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Seeing the mud ball ready to fall, Mogmurch rushes to be the next to climb up the plank.

"Good luck!" he tells Poog in passing.

Taking 10! Goblins don't play fair :P

Mogmurch draws his magical weapon, and staggers forward to slice the horse.

Draw Dogslicer, 5 ft move

Attack: 1d20 + 3 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 3 - 1 - 2 = 13
Damage: 1d4 + 2d6 - 2 ⇒ (3) + (4, 1) - 2 = 6

Mogmurch throws the alchemist's fire.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 4 + 1 - 2 = 17
Damage: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2

Applying malus from Sickened condition

Mogmurch hates horses, and Stomp looks particularly angry and enraged. Though he is still sick, he grabs in his bag another of his vial, getting into position to throw it at the horse as soon as he gets near.

Preparing an Alchemist Fire, will throw when Stomp gets close enough

Judging from the dangling skull ornamenting the ships, whatever lived here must not like goblins.

Intrigued by the scribbling on the walls, Mogmurch waits for the group to move a little forward so he can examine it a little closer.

Stealth: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14

No more actions then!

Throwing the bomb has made Mogmurch unexpectedly queasy, and he has to sit until the earth and sky stop spinning. Once he recovers, he staggers to join the group around the spider's corpse.

Since I have Heal among my skills, I was wondering if I could do something for Chuffy's poisoned condition?

Mogmurch stays away from the spider, mixing his little vials that he pours into a spherical object. Then he lights it.

It doesn't look good.

"EVERYGOBBO STANDS BACK!" he exclaims, before throwing the bomb at the spider.

Attack (Bomb): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

I can't see it either, so I don't know if I can try a Ranged Attack

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Mogmurch stays on his guard. The journey has been quiet so far, but he wouldn't like to be fighting horses or men in the marsh...

Mogmurch takes the skyrocket, marveling at the devastation it could bring.

"My precious," he whispers, gently cleaning off its dust like a fragile skull.

In spite of his pride at winning the game, Mogmurch's uncontrollable vomiting is kind of a downer. Leaning on Rempty for support, he returns to his hut, where he spends the rest of his night sick.

It isn't his most dignified moment, but once he finds the fireworks... Then all the Licktoad tribe will respect him!

Okay no problem! I'll go with DC 10

Mogmurch starts gobbling down the slugs one by one.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Mogmurch burps loudly, and loses time to swallow the second slug.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

After four slugs, he is starting to feel quite stuffed, and has to pause before finishing the race.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

GM:

Being naturally voracious, Mogmurch is drawn to the slug-eating competition.

Mogmurch takes a look at the map, before remembering that he has no idea how to read it.

"Map is... Not clear."

Don't have Knowledge (local) among my skills!

Yeah, I've copied mine in my alias.

"Fire," Mogmurch cackles on his way out. "Mogmurch can help with fire, yes. Got great powder, very high flames. Burn the bad luck away..."

He eyes each of the goblins- his new teammates. He was usually picky in his choice of allies, but the Great Chief was right. They'd need to be a group to fetch the fireworks, and they looked capable enough. Scribbleface's treasure will be theirs.

"Where is cache? Is it far? Let's look at map!"

For perhaps the first time in years, the alchemist's hut had been quiet all day. There had been no explosions, no maniacal laughter and no high-piched screams from a scarred and iritated female. The dangerous experiments of Mogmurch the Mad had been left unattended while the alchemist was busy trying to look as presentable as possible for his official meeting with the Very Great Chief Gutwad. For the occasion, he had spent more than four hours arguing with his mate to pick out his best clothing among his collection of patched up rags and skull hats, before settling down for a torn-up robe (there were holes in it, but it had very beautiful streaks of red that brought out his eyes) and the skull of a bulldog (it was too small for his head and he had to break some of it to fit, but he still thought it look impressive). While he admired himself in the shard of a broken mirror, adjusting his helmet as well as he could so that it wouldn't fall, Rempty was at work, trying to sew up the worn-out cloth with a needle and some thread.

Today was a good day for Mogmurch. Goblins rarely asked to him, and especially not in an enclosed and easily flammable area. Mogmurch's skill with explosives was respected as a great asset to the Licktoad Tribe, but he was feared for their dangerosity and the little control he showed over his own creations. As the sole detentor of the orally transmitted bomb formula, he would be tolerated as long as he was useful, for lack of a greater alchemist. Though a few young goblins had pleaded to become Mogmurch's apprentices, there had been none so smart to pass his tests and be entrusted with his deadly knowledge. At ten years old, he enjoyed a rathher comfortable and secure position, and being summoned to the help of Chief Gutwad could only add to his reputation. Ir would decidely be a good day.

Smugly, Mogmurch puffed up his chest at his own reflection in the mirror and attempting to drape himself in his coloured rags, unknowingly tearing a new hole in his cloth. Ignoring Rempty's cries of protest and lament, he impatiently pushes her away.

"Big Chief is waitin' for Mogmurch now!" he says, severely quieting her down. [b]"You come now, or you stay here. Ain't got time for screamin'!"[b]

Without even checking if Rempty is following, he heads out, with his clothes hanging loosely on his body like an oversized shirt on a scarecrow.

Just noticed I somehow managed to make a mistake while giving my player information... facepalm

Player Name: Cloud Fernan
Character Name: Mogmurch the Mad
Society Number: 342639-10
Fast/Slow Track: Fast
Day Job roll: N/A

My apologies for the inconvenience. Please ignore the previous player information!