Kn (Planes):1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Nicodemus shudders as the beetles emerge, but she puts on her toughest face and tightens her grip around her dagger. Just like mom always said...
"Um, these are fiendish giant fire beetles. They are immune to ______, and have the _____ and _____ special attacks."
The wizard scurries back, away from the flat-footed beetles, and pulls a dab of butter from her component pouch. "Let me see, I think it goes like this? I'm not sure, I haven't used this one in a while..." She begins awkwardly casting.
"Should.. we follow the trail?" Nicodemus has a look at it, but she also looks closely at the trees.
Perception:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Then excitement fills her voice as she notices something odd. "Guys, there's this really weird purplish-black substance clinging to this tree. The bark beneath the strands of it has started to decay, and all of its fruit is on the ground. It's like.. a tree infection. Um, Soddy, be careful.."
"Um, yes, Quinn, was it?" Nicodemus fumbles with her hourglass. "Let's go to the haberdashery, and then we will have all the information we can get. Do you think the orchard has apples? I thought Gunty mentioned trampled fruit, but maybe we can find some for a snack. It is really hard to come by food sometimes... I just want to be prepared." The ratfolk shuffles between feet uncomfortably, as if she felt she had said something she should not have.
"Um, I don't know much more about the one here in town, Soddy, but I.. I think they make clothes and buttons and stuff," the ratfolk pulls her cloak tight. "We should go to both there and the cobbler. This orchard place sounds scary anyways."
Nicodemus shuffles her feet, twitching to reach for her spellbok and then her dagger and then back to her spellbook as she hesitates deciding whether to try what minimal strength she has to move the cart, or to do something more exotic. The end result? She does nothing.
Once the cart is moved, the ratfolk walks up. "Good job with the cart. You're very strong," Nicodemus forces an awkward smile at Bellisir. "Um, we are looking for Noemi, actually. She's one of six apprentices who have gone missing, and we are trying to help find them all. Might you know who she had been spending time with?"
Nicodemus summons up a little courage. "I mean, I hope w-we can help so that the opinion of the mayor stays high, but you didn't really, um, answer us... About Nolaria. Is there anything strange you might have noticed about her before she disappeared?"
Nicodemus hangs back, shyly peering over Annea's shoulder. "We promise we wil do everything we can to find her. T-that's why we're here. Do you have any ideas where she might be?"
"Hi.. Hi Majara," Nicodemus manages a smile at the gnome. She looked nonthreatening. "As these people have said, we are looking to help you. Your apprentice.. Jel-i-on? Gahlion? Did I say that right?" The ratfolk's ear twitches. "Gellion Vazarro. What can you tell us about him? Did you notice anything that might've been.. off about him lately?"
"Magic?" A sparkle flickers in Nicodemus' opaque eyes for a moment. "I see. The note is a little odd... but it's not that unusual for youth to meet up in such a secretive way, right?" She pulls her hourglass out again, and watches the sand fall. "Let's go to the apothecary next, and see what she might know." Her voice is there, flat and without emotion, but her mind is somewhere else.
Yep. I've run this before (it's actually my favorite module) and I'm basically acting like I don't know anything. If a key decision were to come up where I knew what each outcome would result in, I would hang back and let the others choose.
Knowledge (Local):1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Nicodemus ducks her head into her cloak. "Oh.. Sorry.. We were just looking to ask some questions about the missing apprentices. Have you heard anything?"
"O-oh. But maybe this Majara might know more since she has a closer relationship, you know..." Nic mumbles. "So.. so.. how about the tavern first, and then the apothecary?"
"O-okay. Thank you, Miss Mayor," Nicodemus nervously leans forward to bow. "Um, do you mind if I follow you through town? I'm not so good with people," the ratfolk looks to Soddy and Bellisir, twitching as she steps outside the office and into the town.
Diplomacy to Gather Info:1d20 ⇒ 15
Once the party approaches the merchant's square, Nicodemus looks from behind the others as two older men playing dice provide some information. She repeats what she hears. "So, they said youngsters today are so amiable and carefree with everyone. ... They aren’t cautious," She pauses.
Well.. that just proves that everyone should really be more cautious in all situations, at any time, for any reason at all...
"... Like they were back in their day. If any of the youth have done anything other than run off of their own accord, it’s probably because they were too trusting of the wrong person." Nicodemus casts an uneasy look at everyone else in the party.
"I.. That sounds kind of scary," Nicodemus looks down at the ends of her boots. "How do you stop the spores from getting everywhere? What if they get in your friends' eyes instead?" She flips her hourglass once more as she speaks.
Towards the back of the room stood the fidgeyest of fidgey human-sized rodents. A hooded ratfolk whose nose peeked past her cloak's opening flashed her eyes upon Mayor Trinelli and the boarish Varisian woman. She took out an hourglass and held it in front of her mirror-like black eyes, watching the sand drop in 30 seconds. And twisted it again as she idly listened. It helped her relax.
Nicodemus had a nondescript spellbook unusually holstered on a pouch hanging around her waist, not unlike a gunslinger's pistol. Her cloak was plain black with lengths of brown twine outlining it, and she wore nothing more than a black shirt and black boots. Other than her sandy fur, she was but a black outline with black eyes.
The ratfolk nervously stepped forward. "Um... Hello...?" Her voice was soft and pleasant. "Over..oversized rodents? What do you mean? I'm sorry, I'm just here to help." She sighs, and twitches horribly, twisting the hourglass again. "My name is Nicodemus. I just joined the Pathfinder Society, and I was hoping I could use my talents to aid you here, Miss Mayor. D-do you have any suggestions on who to visit first?"
Feats: Weapon Proficiences: Basic and advanced melee weapons, small arms, longarms, heavy weapons, sniper weapons, and grenades
Armor Proficiences: Light armor and heavy armor
Weapon Focus: Heavy Weapons
Racial Abilities
Ability Adjustments: +2 Dex +2 Int –2 Cha
Hit Points: 4
Size and Type
Androids are Medium humanoids with the android subtype.
Constructed
For effects targeting creatures by type, androids count as both humanoids and constructs (whichever effect is worse). They receive a +2 racial bonus to saving throws against disease, mind-affecting effects, poison, and sleep, unless those effects specifically target constructs. In addition, androids do not breathe or suffer the normal environmental effects of being in a vacuum.
Exceptional Vision
Androids have low-light vision and darkvision. As a result, they can see in dim light as if it were normal light, and they can see with no light source at all to a range of 60 feet in black and white only.
Flat Affect
Androids find emotions confusing and keep them bottled up. They take a –2 penalty to Sense Motive checks, but the DCs of Sense Motive checks attempted against them increase by 2.
Upgrade Slot
Androids have a single armor upgrade slot in their bodies. Regardless of whether androids are wearing physical armor, they can use this slot to install any one armor upgrade that could be installed into light armor.
Class Abilities
Primary Fighting Style:
You have a preferred fighting style that represents the type of soldier you are. Each fighting style is composed of various style techniques that you learn as you gain experience. You must pick one fighting style upon taking your first soldier level, and once made, this choice cannot be changed. Descriptions of the fighting styles you can choose from appear on pages 112–115.
Primary Style Technique
At 1st level and every 4 levels thereafter, you gain a style technique unique to your primary fighting style.
Sharpshoot
The sharpshoot fighting style enables you to excel at making accurate attacks, usually with ranged weapons at a long distance. You can ignore cover and other impediments to your shots, and your attacks are improved by your intense focus.
Sniper’s Aim (Ex)
When you make a ranged attack against a target with cover, reduce the AC bonus from cover by 2. You can’t use sniper’s aim against an enemy with total cover.
Backstory:
Zirovo-34 was born approximately 18 years ago. He woke up in a loaned ship, alone, without any memory of what happened, except for a note that told him his name, his current reincarnation and that a life on a ship was all that he enjoyed, but he was not bound to that life anymore, and free to pursue any path. With a bit of confusion, he soon learned that piloting probably came as easy as it was for his predecessor.
He landed on the only marked zone in his navigation tool, a big asteroid in The Diaspora. There, he meet what would be his new teacher, Gozuil Rubyguard, an old dwarf. He knew his last incarnation, and while he refused to talk about Zirovo-33, he seemed to own him a debt to care for his new incarnation if it returned to this place, and so he did, being a father most androids wouldn't even aspire to have in this small dwarven mining colony.
Soon, he learned that he wasn't as different skillwise as his predecessor. Piloting and mantaining ships came to him as natural as walking as much as using a weapon to defend himself and his new friends when in need. Pirates were a common thing in The Diaspora, and the weak were soon killed and robbed of everything.
Every year, Zirovo-34 enjoyed his time with this small colony, but on his 18th anniversary, when returning from another mining expedition, something was amiss. There was nobody home, but there wasn't any destruction, or violence, or blood. Nothing. It was as if all his former "family" had never existed, but all their objects were there. He was at a total loss. All his life blinked out of existance in just an instant, and now he didn't know what to do.
He wanted to do something about it, and so, after what it seemed like an eternity in loneliness, he decided to go to the only place and people where he knew he could get his answers. He grabbed what was his armor, weapon and basic equipment, some credits, and grabbed the first closest ship on his way to Absalom Station.
If anybody could help him get his answers, it would be the Starfinder's.
