About MtumbwiMtumbwi
Alchemical Power Component
PRD wrote:
Heart of the Wilderness +2 Negative Hp required for death increases by listed amount, +5 on CON checks to stabilize. Hero Points Hero Points can be spent at any time to grant a variety of bonuses.Storm Burst 1d6+2 nonlethal (7/day) (Sp) As a standard action, ranged touch attack deals 1d6+2 nonlethal dam to foe in 30 ft. & inflicts a -2 to att for 1 rd. Dice Rolls:
[dice=Pronger thrust]1d20+6[/dice] [dice=Pronger (Piercing Damage)]1d8+2[/dice] [dice=Pronger thrown (10ft Range)]1d20+6[/dice] [dice=Pronger (Piercing Damage)]1d8+2[/dice] [dice=Brainer]1d20+4[/dice] [dice=Brainer (Bludgeoning)]1d8+1[/dice] [dice=Pronger thrust Enlarged]1d20+6[/dice] [dice=Pronger (Piercing Damage) Enlarged]1d8+4[/dice] [dice=Pronger thrown (10ft Range)]1d20+6[/dice] [dice=Pronger (Piercing Damage) Enlarged]1d8+3[/dice] [dice=Brainer Enlarged]1d20+4[/dice] [dice=Brainer (Bludgeoning) Enlarged]1d8+3[/dice] [dice=Storm Burst Ranged Touch attack]1d20+4[/dice] [dice=NL Damage in 30 range & -2 attack for 1 round]1d6+1[/dice] | HP: 27/27 | AC: 16[14] (12 [10]Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 16[15] | F: +6, R: +3[+2], W: +9 | Init: +1[0] | Perc: +8, SM: +4 Hero Lab and the Hero Lab logo are Registered Trademarks of LWD Technology, Inc. Free download at http://www.wolflair.com
Background:
Captain Rory Barbarosa pulled his shallop to a stop on a small patch of sand surrounded by a tumbled-stone laden rocky shore. He stepped lithely from the prow onto a slippery patch of algae covered rock, his polished leather boots gripping just enough to prevent him from pitching into the salt-sea below. His immaculate naval-livery flapping gently in the stiff breeze made a *ppffffttt* sound before he buttoned up his overcoat. He skipped from rock outcropping to intertwined, half-decomposed log, carefully choosing his path upwards. At one point he needed to traverse a 15-foot log, scorched on top as if by lightning. Next to it rested a stone-faced axe, and other crude instruments designed to carve out a dhow. Good, he still has it in him: the desire to create.
After climbing for a few minutes, he finally reached a semi-circular area about 30 feet in diameter, relatively flat, with a palm-woven lean-to resting again the rock face behind it. Whale bone, scrimshaw, and polished coral tubes, tied with some dried seaweed, dangled from the corner of the lean-to, clinking together to form a continuous melody. Barbarosa picked up an egg-sized rock and threw it as hard as he could against verdant wall of the lean-to. *POOOP!* ”What in the …” cried a startled voice from inside. From one end emerged a middle-aged, medium-built, mocha-skinned, long-haired, bushy-bearded, stark-naked man gripping the end of a pole which terminated in three sharp points. ”Storm and salt! Barbarsoa. Get off my island. Turn around and walk off my island. Do it now. And never return.” The man remained in a half-crouch, weapon leveled at Barbarosa’s chest, knuckles whitening, manhood dangling. ”Hee hee,” Barbarosa laughed, ”Mtumbwi! Put that fish poker down. Is that anyway to treat your old friend upon his arrival to your kingdom? And can’t you find a loincloth or a pare? Are you going Sky-clad or Sea-clad?” ”Neither. That is in the past and you know it.” Barbarosa looked about him. Rocks, plenty of those. Rotting wood, everywhere. Piles of shells and fish bones, too many to count. What a dump. Is this how you live now my friend? ”Please, let me parlay if you will.” Barbarosa dug into his pocket and produced a stark white handkerchief which he lifted up and waved in the stiff wind. Mtumbwi watched the captain wave his kerchief. Sighing in resignation, he lowered the weapon, and leaned upon it. ”Out with it. I won’t ask what diviner whore you paid to find me. You showing up here tells me you want me for something. What is it?” ”My old friend, just like that? Cut to the meat. No ‘Nice to see you.’ ‘How is The Audacious?’ ‘Can I get you some,’ what the hell do you drink here? ‘Some food?’ Anything?” ”Rain barrel is around the corner. Dried scrod or salted scrod or raw scrod?” answered Mtumbwi in a tone that conveyed the sense that serving the captain’s physical needs was just as important as wiping his butt right now. ”Ahemm, well neither, though thank you for at least being civil. Real progress there. So, to get to it then. I need you back. None can fix a ship like you, none can pilot a ship like you, and hell man, cover your dick!” ”No.” ”Fine. You are a craftsman. That burned lumber I passed. Week or two and I am sure it will be a dhow fit for a prince of Osirion. Just need …” ”You BASTARD. How?! How much did you pay? What do you know of him?!” Mtumbwi raises the trident and draws his arm back, ready to let fly. ”Whoa whoa. Hold on.” Barbarosa implored, thrusting his hands in front of and waving the man off. ”What are you talking about?” ”Tell me now! How do you know about the boy!” ”What boy? I came here for YOU. I need my mate back.” ”Liar. I know you Barbarosa. I know you seek treasure. Well, you cannot have him. You have to go through me first. I owe so you I will allow you to leave here. Now. Never to return. I will be gone and you will never find us.” ”Us? What the hell are you talking about?” Straining to understand, Barbarosa looked once again at the chimes. The traditional symbol of Gozreh. He gave that up. I remember. He just said it too. ” Mtumbwi” he began, like addressing him like a child. ”What are you hiding? What have you done? Tell me and I can help you out of this.” ”You wouldn’t believe me. You can’t help me. Just leave. Before I have to kill you.” ”You will do no such thing. Take your head out of your arse. What have you gotten yourself into?” Weary resignation spread across Mtumbwi’s face. ”Fine. You shall share our fate. Come.” Lowering his trident, Mtumbwi turned and disappeared into the lean-to. An upturned smirk ruined the moment as Barbarosa broke his ruse for the briefest of instances, but Mtumbwi with his back turned never saw it. As Barbarosa strode forward to enter the hut, his mouth filled with the taste of blood. Spitting, the coppery taste overwhelmed his senses. He tried to ignore it as best he can. ”Mtumbwi. On second thought, water would be good.” The taste of blood in the mouth is indicative of Gorzeh’s disfavor ”No” was the only answer he got. Peeking around the corner, on a woven straw mat, was a robust boy - not more than five years of age. Barbarosa noted his closed eyes and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The kid was blissfully asleep. Clever. The loud chimes outside would have drowned out any noise this kid might make in here. ” Mtumbwi,” Barbarosa began in a gentle voice, ”Tell me.” ”After what happened. After I was found wanting. I threw myself in the sea. To face Grozeh’s judgement. She was merciful that day. Though I did not know why. I floated, drifted, became one with the waves. She sheltered me. Kept me safe. Commanded her children to pass me by and feast somewhere else. He poured fresh water on me to slack my thirst, and cool my limbs. Hours. Days. Weeks. I know not how many days and nights I saw. Eventually, here is where I landed. I crawled out of the surf, and onto the rock. Slowly things would appear on the shore. Driftwood. Metal. Fruits bobbing. Dead animals. Even a whale carcass. “I still would not ask her blessing. She abandoned me. I just wanted to live here in peace. But it wasn’t good enough for him. A storm was brewing. Been at sea long enough to know, with or without his help. Sky darker than pitch, winds blowing hard enough to throw me from this rock, lightening criss-crossing the sky, thunder pealing across the waves. I sat there. Wondering why? Was he talking to me? After abandoning me in my hour of need. Our hour of need. How many died because my prayers went unanswered? How many fed the denizens of the deep? How many lives cut short because my my fickle god?” Snapping out of his tirade, he continued the story, ”Quick as it came, it was over. I went down to see what would wash in, and there he was. Floating on a lightning-scorched piece of driftwood. Innocent as ever. “Grabbed him out, brought him up. Been feeding him chewed up tree fruits and whatever fish I could catch. Probably needs a decent meal though. Are you going to offer your fat arse up so he can have some red meat?” Barbarosa looks up at Mtumbwi, ”This child is a gift from your god. And you jest? You cower on this rock like some puffin? He is god-touched. Destined for greatness.” ”Nope. No way. He will not be a treasure in your collection. He is destined for a temple. Going to finish my dhow, find some mainland. Drop him off at a temple somewhere, and never going to look back. I will kill you if you try and stop me or look for the boy.” ”Stop you? Why would I? I came for you. I had no idea you sheltered a boy here. The diviner said nothing of this. Come. I will take you to the mainland. We can travel to a temple; drop off the kid as you say, then come back with me. Come help me run my ship,” Barbarsoa finished with a smile. ”I want to believe you. But I won’t trust you. No matter what word you use on me. Five days. I will meet you at the Gloomspires in five days. If you want me. I will be there. And the kid will not.” ” Mtumbwi, now you are being obtuse. Why do you shun my offer of generosity?” ”Barbarosa. Five days or nothing. I’d kill the child before I let you have him.” A sudden gentle breeze carrying the scent of blue honeycomb flowers wafted through the makeshift shelter. A sudden breeze smelling of flowers is indicative of Gorzeh’s favor. Barbarosa gave him one, last appraising look. So innocent. So easy to manipulate. Does he see through the ruse, or did I fool him? Time to roll the bones. “Sure. Five days it is. By the Gloomspires where that half-orc Venture Captain from that Pathfinder Society is always looking for those lost Azlanti treasures. Well, before I go, you left this. Thought that I’d give you back what is yours. This time, it will be your own choice. To choose me, and The Audacious. May Desna watch over you... and Gozreh too.” Barbarosa flips a small, worn leather pouch in the air, before turning and walking out. Quick as a river viper, Mtumbwi snatches it out of the air. Pulling the drawstrings, he removes a beautiful piece of jewelry attached to a supple leather cord. Turning the piece over in his hand, feeling the familiar features, Mtumbwi looks at the green leaf made of polished coral, and the large ivory raindrop dripping out of the end. Bastards. All of them.
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