Nazza's page

Dot!

Thanks for running! That really was a short one. Probably would have been a bit longer if we didn't skip, what, two or three potential combats? :P

Ditto what Bargus said about the Wereguild Thrall anti-boon. Is that just the price we pay for not fighting Halvor or letting him do any fighting?

Nazza's eyebrows knit in annoyance, but she sheathes her sword and crosses her arms as a sign of good--or at least neutral--will. "Uliyara is the only reason we were allowed to come out here in the first, on account of her good word to the queen 'bout us. Your would-be captor was here, and now he's a red patch of ice--thanks to us."

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

"Sounds like he got trapped in here in a disagreement with his son. Pity to see somethin' so morbid as a result of bad kin, eh?" Nazza muses, shrugging with her free hand.

Suddenly her brows knit and her jaw sets to one side in a quizzical way. "Did that say somethin' about a sorcerer? Hao Gin?" Her eyes grow wide with recognition. "As in, the Hao Gin Tapestry? We came all the way to Irrisen when the temple was back home in the Grand Lodge's vaults the whole time! Well now this just seems like a huge waste of time! I guess at least we know about where to look now...maybe."

"Mm. Whatever it was, I don't like it. I know this is an ancient, abandoned ruin type deal, but it's usually not so simple as all that...it's a bit too abandoned, ya know?" Nazza asks, eyeing the crater suspiciously.

She approaches the eastern door once the other Pathfinders have assembled, taking a quick listen before opening it.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Nazza peers down the same hallway as Bargus, sword still drawn and resting over her shoulder. "Well, it's definitely got that 'Abandoned Ruins' feel. What's down this way?" she thinks out loud, scanning the hallway.

Where exactly are the mostly empty weapons racks? Can we see them in one of the rooms, or can we actually get to them?

Nazza frowns and scans the icy landscape, shading her eyes against the glare of sun on the frozen land. "That wolf said they would 'call down the whole pack' earlier. I don't see 'em around here, but that don't mean they're not coming, or here already. Let's get through that ice wall and see if we can find our key, yeah?" Nazza suggests, making her way back toward the hot clay lump melting the wall.

Turning toward the witch's daugter, she raises a neatly kept, yet skeptical eyebrow. "Any more surprises, ya think?"

Nazza draws her sword as she moves around the rocks and stands behind the talking wolf. She smirks as she lifts her blade high, mocking, "Fine, have it your way!"

MW Greatsword, Inspired!: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 6 + 1 = 27
Crit confirm: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 1 = 11

Damage, Inspired!: 2d6 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (5, 3) + 4 + 1 = 13
Crit Damage, Inspired!: 2d6 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (5, 4) + 4 + 1 = 14

Feel free to stop me if you think this is a little too brash...

"Huh," Nazza says appreciatively as Uliyara shakes off her Haltani disguise. "That would explain why you were so nervous in the Ulfen village, I guess."

Turning to the winter wolf, Nazza addresses Rigrory with a calm, if slightly annoyed, air. "I'm not a fan of being tricked, especially by magic. But that's what got us this far, and I'm guessin' what kept us from bein' turned away--or worse--in Dalun. So Uliyara here has offered us a way to find what we're lookin' for, and all you're offering is a fight--one that I don't intend to lose." Nazza casually draws her greatsword and shoves the tip into the hard ice of the ground, leaning on it jocularly. "So, wolf, either offer us more or go an' bury your head in a different snow bank, eh?"
Intimidate: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

Feel free to take Nazza's wand of CLW for now, and just hold on to it until further notice. Use as many charges as you need!

Shivering from the biting cold, Nazza quickly unpacks several bricks of the blackfire clay while moving up to the wall, her hands stinging and numb. "I'll get these bricks together to melt through this ice wall, unless y'all have any better ideas," Nazza asserts, pressing two clay bricks together and relishing the heat. "Keep an eye out for trouble. Anything that lives in this kind of cold is bound to be ornery, and I don't want to die at least until I get warm."

Spending 1 minute to combine 5 bricks for campfire heat to melt the wall. Once the clay gets too hot to hold, I'll use some of our furs as heat barriers.

Fort+Gear+Furs: 1d20 + 5 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 5 + 5 + 2 = 28
Fort+Gear+Furs: 1d20 + 5 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 5 + 5 + 2 = 17
Fort+Gear+Furs: 1d20 + 5 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 5 + 2 = 15

Survival Aid: 1d20 ⇒ 14

"D'you reckon we'll have a hard time digging out these ruins? We should probably get those burning bricks handy once we get there."

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 8

"Well? Can we proceed?"

"Look, Halvor," Nazza mutters to the barbarian leader, "if they turn out to still be itching for a fight, better to get in without a scratch and then jump them if things turn ugly, right? You and your warriors are strong, but save it for fightin' people, not walls."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18

"See, Haltani's with me! Can we at least see the situation first?"

Diplomacy + Haltani: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 1 + 2 = 23

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves, here, boys," Nazza interjects, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her fellow Pathfinders. "We were s'posed to be making friends and trades, not enemies.

"Listen, Halvor, I understand you're in a revengin' mood, but can we at least see what the situation is in Dalun before you sack the place? I don't wanna cross you or Whiterook, and from the sounds of it we're definitely better off bein' your friends than some ice-witch's, but is an all out attack really necessary? We'd appreciate the caravan guardin', but maybe let's see what the state of the place is before we burn the place down?"

"It might be a fool's errand, but that's where we're headed--guess that makes us willin' fools," Nazza admits, her hands tucked into her armpits for warmth and a smirk on her face.

"Even if we can't make nice with the folks in Dalun, we still have to get to a site north of there. What's this business about a witch, eh?"

Reflex: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Nazza tumbles onto the deck, scale mail clattering. "What's the big idea?!" she challenges, staring down the Ulfen men.

Once Bargus manages to calm things down, she merely mutters with contempt under her breath before addressing the guards again with slightly more patience. "I s'pose a slight diversion wouldn't be too much trouble. We're already looking for old stuff, what's another day? S'pose you tell us what we need to talk to Halvor about, and why you're searching folks' ships?"

I will also purchase a cold-weather outfit.

Nazza is a thick-limbed half-orc woman with sharp teeth and sharper eyes. Her black dreadlocks are pulled back neatly, and she wears a red cloak over her newly purchased cold weather furs, those under a suit of standard-issue scale mail.

She enjoys the trip down the river, returning the scowls of the local fishing villages and getting to know the crew and Uliyara.

"Name's Nazza, if you didn't catch it earlier. I joined up with the Pathfinders when my brother died. He was doin' a mission in Taldor and got cut down by one of those tricky spell-swords, a magus or something--but I think he set the man's house on fire, so at least he went down fighting. He was always kind of an ass, but revenge was a good enough reason to join up, and see if I could get some closure, yeah? Anyway, I know a bit about magic, but mostly I'm better at fightin' those finger-wagglers."

She draws her greatsword and shows Uliyara a few practice swings. She smriks, drawing on the arcane rage within herself, causing her eyes to glow with a fiery light, before cleaving a sizeable gash in the ground by way of demonstration. "When fighting someone with magic, you gotta be ready for anything. I once tore a man's throat out with my teeth!" she brags, pointing at her natural tusks with a red-lacquered finger nail.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

!

Will try to get a proper intro up by the weekend.

Hey all! Got my Bloodrager here. Sorry for the delay--getting adjusted to a new job. Might have to do a bit of gear shopping, but should have my stuff updated?

PFS # 52949-2
Day Job roll: none
Initiative +2
Perception +5

Ditto, thanks for running, EF! This was a fun one! I should run it myself sometime. :)

Once Nazza gets cleaned off ("Hey, Feathers—er, Victoria—you look pretty clean for a Pathfinder. Got a spell that can get all this blood off me? Maybe I should start wearing one of those frilly neck guards. Or a bib..."), she congratulates the team as well.

"Couldn't have done it without y'all! Here's hopin' we get together again sometime."

I've gone ahead and moved Henrick on the map for you. :)

Will Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20

Nazza laughs, the sound high and derisive, as the wave of negative energy washes over her with no effect. She pushes past her allies and moves to corner the dwarf.
Movement will provoke an AoO, AC is currently lower b/c of bloodrage.

She smiles at the multiple images of the dwarf, her mouth stained with blood. "I'm not sure which one of you is real, but I know a way to find out!"

Greatsword+flank: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 6 + 2 = 25
Greatsword Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 5) + 6 = 12

Fort save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
So that's 2 Strength lower, right? ...Now Nazza is only at a measly 19 :c

Nazza winces as the strength is sapped from her muscles, but flashes a wicked grin as she shakes off the worst of it.

"'Fraid you're gonna have to do better than that! My turn!"

Nazza takes a step toward the half-orc, swinging her sword and lunging out to lodge her sharp teeth in Aspis flesh!

Greatsword: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Greatsword Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 3) + 6 = 10
Bite: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Bite damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

My apologies, there had been a loss in my immediate family and posting will be minimal until Sunday. Bot me as necessary, punch things for justice, and feel free to use my CLW wand.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Oh no! I'm sorry. Please take your time. :c

With Victoria's 30ft move speed, I think you can catch a max of 2 of them with color spray. I think you can hit red and green without provoking, and you could get red and blue if you're willing to enter red's threatened area.

Nazza picks out the doubled Aspis agent and moves around the pillars, drawing her greatsword as she goes. As she stands ready to strike down the opportunistic snakes, her eyes flare up with magical fire. "You've just made a huge mistake!" she boasts, grinning with bloodlust.

Double move to behind the casters (provoking from green if they threaten), activate bloodrage as a free action once she's there. Nazza's Disruptive Bloodrage power increases the DC to cast defensively in her threatened area by 2.

Heh, I just realized that I need a natural 20 either way.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Will Save: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Nazza looks over the small alcove, unable to find anything of particular note. "Hmm. I got nothing. Any ideas?"

Is this an either-or pick between Perception and Will, or can we try for both?

"Perfect! Thanks, Janira! All right, off to the Shrine of the Failed!"

Welp, looks like we'll need some help. :P

Nazza eventually gets up and investigates the names with the strange underlining. At Caskmail's name, she leans in close and says, "Wiffle?"

If that doesn't do anything:

Nazza jots down the names, dates, and inscriptions of the three curious names on the wall. As she finishes scribbling, she suggests "Let's take this back to the Wounded Wisp. Janira or someone will be able to tell us more, I'm sure."

Nazza is uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the Wall of Names, and once they arrive she wanders off to sit in front of a particular section of the wall. She touches a particular name on the name with one finger: "Dr." Gunter, deceased 4714 AR. She frowns at the black glass--not her usual half-annoyed scowl, but something sadder.

After the contents of Frimbrik's letter are disclosed, Nazza rolls her eyes and quietly mutters something impolite about gnome wizards. She rereads the letter, turning it over to check the back as well.

"Aside from this silly password, he says he's attached some Pathfinder's name. But I don't see it anywhere here. Where is it? Maybe it's some other damn illusion?" Nazza asks, letting out a low growl of frustration. "Maybe someone else (with a little more finesse) got here first? In any case, I think we should check the basement before we leave. Could have some more info--or at least a drink."

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Nazza's eyes narrow at the awkwardly placed sofa. She holds up a hand toward the other Pathfinders to stop them from moving forward too quickly. "Hey, see that? Some sort of weird circle underneath the couch. Probably some wizard trick. Give it a wide berth. Also, does it seem like no one has actually been in here lately? The furniture and carpet are pristine. Could be more tricks... Let's go see if those muscle-heads are guards or captors. And again, mind the circle..."

Nazza shuffles along the outside of the room toward the bedroom where they saw the sleeping Fimbrik.

"Hm. Well, as you say, Saitama, picking locks is not going to earn us any favor with the Absalom guard," Nazza admits, crossing her arms in calculation. "But if he really is being held captive, then we've got to do something. And better us, while we're here now, right? Who wants to help me? I'll pay for the damages."

With that, Nazza sizes up the door and slams her body into it, hoping to liberate the unresponsive Fimbriks.

Strength check: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

"Could be that Fimbrik's not been here in a while," Nazza suggests, "but it could be that he's just a weirdo. These wizard types always are."

The half-orc approaches the front door and delivers a hefty series of knocks. "Fimbrik!" she calls out, "We'd like to speak with you!"

Yup, I think that's the plan!

As they leave the mausoleum, Nazza nods to Henrick and Saitama. "Thanks for picking up the tab on that. I'll buy you both a drink later." She winks at them and playfully throws her arms around there shoulders--well, with the dwarf it doesn't require so much throwing as leaning. "Speaking of which, why don't we head back to the Wounded Wisp? I'm sure there will be at least a few Pathfinders who can help us out with this sort of thing. This is much better than my last mission; it's good to be in Absalom where we don't have to pull the whole 'We're not Pathfinders, really! Let us in!' thing, you know?"

"If someone wants to grab the coin," Nazza says, drawing her morningstar and holding it out above the skeleton, "I'll get ready to do some smashing if it tries to bite ya."

Okay, I have two suggestions:
1) We take the coin back to the Wounded Wisp to see if one of our NPC friends there, Janira for instance, could identify this for us.
2) Failing that, we stop by the local hedge mage's shop and everyone pitches in 10 gold to pick up a potion of identify, which should allow any character with the spellcraft skill to try to figure out what it does.

Nazza narrows her eyes at the skeleton, her sharp canines just poking out over her lips as she scowls at it, looking it over. "Who knows what that info-hoarding gnome could have left here. Could be a trap. Can anyone tell if it's magical?" Nazza asks, continuing to check the skeleton and the interior of the mausoleum for traps or other trickery.

Taking 20 on Perception for 24 if there's time. Otherwise:
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

Nazza smiles and jerks her thumb at Saitama as she says, "What he said. He's beefy, but gentle. Won't mess anything up."

Diplomacy Assist: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21

If only my last post, which you ninja'd, had dovetailed as nicely. I have no one to blame but myself. EDIT: And Cosmo.

"Well, we could just ask. That's worked for me before!" Nazza suggests. "I'm sure one of you could convince a priest to let us take a peek. And if not, well..." Nazza smirks and cracks her knuckles. "I'll try a little flexing of my own. But that might get us thrown out too early, so let's try being nice first."

Nazza approaches one of the patrolling priests of Abadar and gets their attention. "Hey there! Listen, we're from the Pathfinder Society. My friends here have something to ask you," Nazza says, gesturing at her (hopefully) more diplomatic companions.

Nazza's eyes return to their normal, non-glowing red, and she leans against the wall for a moment while lowering her bloodied sword to the ground. After a couple of tired breaths, she wipes off her sword on the warped creature's corpse and stows her sword.

"Mausoleum sounds just fine to me. Good work in that fight, everyone--glad to see we got by without a scratch!" Nazza looks down the rough corridors branching off of the hidden study. "Should we explore the rest of these caves? What was that creepy thing doing down here anyway?"

It looks like the creature didn't hit Henrick's (flat-footed) AC, so it doesn't get a free grab attempt. You would have to move up to attack it in melee (just a 5-foot step), against cover since it's around a corner. I don't think urgroshes have reach(?), so I moved you on the map, if that's okay!

Nazza's eyes flare with anger as the creature's tentacles reach out to attack her, but they can't get through her armor. "Bad decision," she snarls, the anger in her eyes glowing into arcane fire. She moves forward, drawing her greatsword and slashing at the creature with a roar.

Mwk Greatsword, Bloodrage: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Damage: 2d6 + 7 ⇒ (2, 2) + 7 = 11

"I thought I was done with secret passages for a while after the last mission..." Nazza grumbles. "Come on, might as well see what ol' Dreng has in store for us, eh?"

The half-orc tries to suppress a smile as she peeks down the secret passage. "Get out your lights if you need 'em."

Nazza frowns at the dilapidated cellar floor, considering their options. Turning to their muscled, bald companion, she says, "Hey Saitama, why don't you flex your way over there? You look pretty nimble, I bet you could do it no problem. There's not much sense in all of us trying to cram in that little back room anyway, yeah?" Sme flashes him a smirk. "I'll patch you up if anything goes wrong."

Nazza thanks her new drinking companions and takes a swig of ale. She scowls at the mention of a necromancer, nervously smoothing back her neatly pulled back dreadlocks. "Necros are bad news. At least they're obvious about it, though. Sure, they'll skulk around graveyards and keep out of sight of the guards, but once you get to their hideout they're pretty open about their nefarious intent. What you really got to watch out for are the sneaky mages--the ones that pretend to be decent folk, just walkin' around in society until they make their power grabs. Harder to bring an axe to a soiree than a dank cave, eh? I guess that's the finesse you're talkin' about," Nazza responds, having talked herself into a more jovial mood.

"Myself, I just came back from a library in Taldor. Don't know if you would have been a fan of that one. Wasn't allowed to swing a sword at anything, and one of the more interesting people I met was a statue!"

Nazza approaches the half-orcs' table, pulling up a chair and asking, "Mind if I join in? What are ya drinkin'?" with a wink and a grin.

Knowledge (History): 1d20 ⇒ 2

Nazza grins at the old Venture Captain's request, sharp tusks poking out past her dark-tinted lips. "I just came back from a library in Taldor, but I guess a little more learning can't hurt, eh? Let's get going and get out of this rain."

Nazza pulls her cloak tighter and follows her fellow Pathfinders to the historic tavern. Turning to the colorfully dressed Aasimar woman, she asks, "Have you ever seen a gift shoppe in a tavern, Feathers?"

"Sounds simple enough, old man," Nazza replies, pulling the hood of her oiled cloak tighter around her head against the rain. "What kind of parcel are we picking up? Anything dangerous? Fragile? Don't want to get blown up by some Aspis sorcerer or something without at least a little warning, eh?" she asks, smirking fondly at the thought of a fight.

Profile/sheet's all updated!

"I dunno, but hopefully it's not anywhere too dirty, eh?" says a powerfully built half-orc woman. After picking her straight, sharp teeth with a red lacquered nail, she smirks at her fellow Pathfinders.

"Name's Nazza. So, Saitama--mind if I just call you Sai?--you're here to do some educating on baldies? Think it'd be a good look for our dwarven friend here, see what he looks like without the beard?" Nazza asks, shooting the dwarf a teasing wink.