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Oktavian spends this time standing sentry by the entrance to the cave where we came in. He nods with respect at Narnel as he speaks, then turns to face the cave entrance again with his falchion at the ready. "I admit to some ignorance in the way this accursed magic works. Will we have to slay each one of the gillmen, or can we somehow break the spell?"
Oktavian, pushing back the zombie clawing at him for a moment takes a surprisingly agile step towards Narnel, shouting to try and catch the other foe's attention. "Narnel! Careful. I will try and hold him off!" He swings his falchion in a wide arc, partly to attempt to kill the zombie and partly to distract it.
Falchion Power Attack:
Falchion Damage:
Oktavian smirks unimpressed at the thought of fighting the zombies. "This will be easy." he grins. Moving carefully past Narnel, Oktavian heads south to attack the zombie isolated from the others.
Bringing his sword down in an overhead smash, Oktavian attempts to split the zombie in two. His breathing remains calm and collected - he does not feel that these are significant enough a threat to waste resources. Falchion Power Attack:
Power Attack Damage:
Oktavian stops in his tracks as he notices the gillman. Nudging Narnel slightly he whispers in his ear. "Perhaps approach and see if he is friendly? I am not the quietest of individuals... If he proves hostile however I will back you up. Fear not. He may respond better to you but I am not above combat if need be. "
Oktavian nods at the deciphering conducted by the other members of the party. "You certainly are more learned than I. I admit that I was baffled by these symbols utterly. But what significance do they have? Are the Gillmen known for worship of Aroden? Oktavian wanders over towards the stairs and the sound of running water to investigate.
Oktavian thanks Narvel and claps him on the shoulder with a smile, taking his armour and donning it once again. After Narnel's discovery of the plank, he assists in dragging it over towards the pit. Once everyone has reached the other side he holds up the cloak he recovered from the waters below: "Anyone want to take a look at this? Don't know if its magic or not but seems linked to the caves somehow. Look at this!" He points to the petoglyph adorning the back. "This kind of thing is not my forte. Perhaps someone more knowledgeable should take it."
Placing the cloak on the floor, Oktavian unties the rope from the grappling hook. holding it in his hand and bracing himself, he looks back across the other side of the pit at the party. Jerry, presumably, still has the other end of the rope. "Swing down to the wall using that end of the rope. I will pull you up here. No need for anyone else to get wet! ...If someone could bring over my armour that would be helpful though." he grins. "Or jump and I'll catch you."
Oktavian sighs and instead ties the rope around his own waist. Handing the rope to Jerry, he smiles slightly. "If anything happens, you know what to do. Pull real hard!" Oktavian then takes off his hide armour and leaves it on the cavern floor. Positioning himself on the edge of the water, he pauses for a moment before diving in.
If no savage creature assails me or the water is acid etc:
If I am fine:
Oktavian dives to the bottom of the pool, pleased to see that it is shallow enough to not be too risky. Scooping up the bag and its contents, he attaches the grappling hook to the rope around his waist and attempts to throw it onto the ledge opposite the party.
. Regardless of whether it lands, he attempts to climb the wall.
If there is fiery death: Oktavian yelps his surprise as he suddenly realises the danger he is in. "Pull me up!" he yells .
Oktavian listens to Narnel's explanation patiently. When he finishes, he scratches his stubble for a moment before drawing rope out of his pack. "Getting whatever is down there should be simple at least. With my strength I could easily lower someone down if they tied themselves to this rope - and pull them up again quickly if they encounter danger. Maybe whatever is down there will give us some clues as to what the Gillmen are doing here.... any volunteers? I believe I should be able to handle the weight of any of you."
Oktavian claps a large hand onto Alister's shoulder as he hears his words. "Think nothing of it my friend, We are a team now are we not? Your thanks are appreciated but not necessary - I am certain you would have done the same for me!" He turns to look at the wounded hippogriff at his feet. "Narnel is correct though, they could be in some trouble should something aggressive enough come along. Hopefully the struggle scared off any potential predators..." "Still, a chance at survival is better than none I suppose. Shall we move on?"
Oktavian raises his falchion to strike the killing blow but, just before delivering the swing, his anger seems to fade immediately. He falls to his knees for a brief moment before leaning on his sword. His rage seems to fade quickly and is replaced by labored breathing. His face turns into a frown with a twinge of regret. He approaches the beast he attacked before. "Will it live?" he asks Vetis.
Oktavian roars in anger at seeing the hippogryph tearing at Alister, and a fire seems to ignite behind his eyes. "Get back!" he shouts. "This one is mine!" Baring his teeth in fury, Oktavian steps foward and swings his massive falchion in a reckless arc, as if uncaring about his own life. "Die!
Oktavian grunts and turns back to face the party. "I say we find our own route. Oktavian gestures toward Vetis and Little Tom. "I believe we have the skills between us to make it work. If it fails, I am equally confident we can overcome any dangers that might befall us." He smiles slightly back at the party. "Plus, what kind of Pathfinders stick to the beaten path that all have trod before them? We were born to explore - so I say let us explore! Perhaps we may even come across a dragon. I have not seen one in the flesh before through all my years in the wild. I admit to being curious."
Oktavian stays silent during Janira's monologue, somewhat uncaring regarding the history lesson. As the group stops for the night he wordlessly dumps his back on the group and sits next to it. He glances up at Vetis and Narnel: "Don't stray too far from the camp. I am too big to do any sneaking but call me if you need help and I will come." He turns to Little Tom as the halfling declares his intention to gather food. "Bring us back something good. If you bring down something big, perhaps I can carry it back for you." Oktavian grimaces slightly at the prospect of eating the dry and bland hardtack contained within his trail rations. Pulling out his journal, he grasps a quill awkwardly in his huge hand and begins to write a few quick scribbles. He pauses every now and then and frowns. It has been several years since I last had to write. Unfortunate that it takes quite so long to recall the letters now. Journal Entry 01: Confirmation First task with the pathfinders has begun in earnest. Was only given short notice before leaving but it seems my companions were prepared. They seem reliable. Have taken refuge for the night in an old ruin. Janira said it is thousands of years of age. Seems to protect well from the wind - she has a good eye for these things. The party travels slower than I would like. Hope we will make it to the Gillmen cave tomorrow. Cannot blame them, a couple of my companions are very small. I hope this will not hinder them should we enter combat.
I have +4 perception so not great. Would be happy to pair with someone if they want some company / protection for a watch however. Would also happily march at the front of the pack for obvious reasons. Perhaps if Jerry is happy to do so we can walk side by side to ensure neither one of us gets hit by everything at once?
Oktavian nods at Vetis, his face relaxing slightly as he hears him chuckle. "I will be happy to accompany you. I have the basics I need to survive in the wilds but I am certain I could make further preparations. Perhaps a crowbar could come in handy if we come across any stuck doors or similar." "Maybe a couple of empty vials? Never know what the gillmen are up to in there. Might be useful to take a sample of something to bring back..." he wonders. Oktavian strides to the door and opens it with surprising grace for such a large figure. He holds open the door for Vetis and nods at the other party members. "An hour then. Don't be late." The corners of his mouth turn up in a slight smile.
Oktavian looks up as Vetis finishes introducing himself, slowly surveying the party assembled around the table. "Oktavian." he says. "Oktavian of house Valdemar. You may have heard of them perhaps... though make no mistake. Though their blood runs in my veins, I have not considered them family for a long time." Oktavian chews his lip thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "I used to be a pampered nobles son alright, but that changed several years ago. I'm an exile now, disowned and on my own. Not that I mind, I've come to enjoy the independence... You see, they tried to have me killed. Perhaps 'exiled' is the wrong word, more like I escaped. I assume they have long since stopped caring - as long as I was out of the picture they can continue their pointless bickering with the other houses." Tearing a hunk of bread off of the half-loaf on the table, Oktavian takes a bite before continuing. "I was living rough for... I don't really know, time seemed to lose all meaning I was gone for so long. Several years at least I eked my own living in the wild, savage forests trying to evade my families men. I have only been back among civilization for about a week! A pathfinder band came across me and lured me back with promises of a new life among men. I do hope that the world hasn't changed too much since I have been gone... so far at least it seems fairly familiar." As he talks he wipes crumbs from his hands down his clothes, which upon close inspection clearly once resembled the garb of a noble. Filthy now, and with many holes roughly patched up with animal hide and the like, it now barely resembles the masterpiece of tailoring it once must have been. "I must admit, I no longer know the goings on of politics and the dangers many of the settlements face. I look forward to finding out more about how the world has changed." "As for in a fight... well. I am good at it, perhaps better than I would like to be. Wild some have called me, though perhaps that is unsurprising given my time spent with only nature for company. Rest assured however I am in full control. There won't be any mishaps." As he finishes his sentence he adjusts the strap across his back holding a giant sword in place. A smile breaks across his face underneath his ragged hair. "A pleasure to meet you all. I hope we get along well."
Oktavian smiles and nods at Narnel, flexing his sword arm slightly. "I suppose you have a point, killing them may not be necessary. Still, I do like to be prepared. After all, if the mountains are as dangerous as our new friend here claims, they must have some kind of ability to deal with the threats. Or are they allied to these other 'creatures'?" he wonders.
Oktavian tilts his head slightly, scratching at the unkempt bristles of his beard. "That seems as good a place to start as any. What say you, Janira was it? I have encountered a lot of nasties and the like living rough in the forest but never seen a gillman. Haven't been close enough to the Kortos mountains I suppose. Are they aggressive? Sentient?" he says. "Any weaknesses?"
Character Name: Oktavian Valdemar
Character Backstory: Backstory:
Oktavian Valdemar was once a noble son from a relatively minor but wealthy household favored by the royalty of the land. While out on an archaeological expedition one day however he stumbled across an ancient cursed artifact that drained the sanity from whomsoever touched it, leaving them as a crazed husk whose limited intelligence led them to fiercely defend the tomb until their death. Upon touching the artifact, Oktavian killed the rest of the archaeological crew in a mindless frenzy. Awakening several days later, Oktavian found he had regained his sanity thanks to the passing of a priest of Desna who attempted to break the magical hold over him. It took many weeks of meditation, divine treatment and solitary confinement to truly break the hold of the curse over Oktavian and he felt comfortable walking the streets again. Oktavian's noble family however had been informed of the massacre of their archaeological team. Upon his return to their household, he was apprehended by the guardsmen and thrown into the jail beneath their basement to await judgement. Furious at the injustice yet wracked with guilt, Oktavian was horrified to feel the raging beast within him rise up and fill him with the unnatural strength he had been afflicted with from the curse. This time however, thanks to the mental training of the Priest of Desna, Oktavian was able to maintain a semblance of self-control. With his newfound strength he easily broke the shackles binding him and fled the manor, disappearing into the wilderness to never be seen in civilization again for some time. Oktavian despaired at the level of guilt he suffered - though he was not aware at the time, the memories of the murders he committed came back to him in horrific nightmares. Years passed while he lived among the trees with a solitary shack to call home, where he found his inner rage a powerful weapon against any creatures that would dare to cross him. The Pathfinder society caught wind of the hermit living within the forest and his strange behaviour, eventually dispatching a member to investigate. Upon finding Oktavian, the Pathfinder representative was surprised to find him a cultured and civilized individual, talented with the violin and compassionate towards those whose lives were threatened. An invitation to potentially join the society was extended, which Oktavian was happy to accept. He reasoned, after some thought, that perhaps this 'curse' that led him to kill those innocents several years ago could finally be used to do some good. In fact, he hoped that perhaps this could redeem him and finally free him from the nightmares that plagued his dreams. Arriving at the Pathfinder headquarters still wearing the tattered remnants of the nobles outfit he once proudly wore, Oktavian returned to civilization once more to begin his long road to repentance. Though a monster still lived within him - a bloodthirsty and merciless creature - Oktavian had tamed it well enough that he could prevent it from doing evil. He hoped it would prove a powerful weapon for the Pathfinders - he now bore the curse willingly, seeing it as his comeuppance for his previous misdeeds. I have not played this campaign either core or non-core before. Confirmation you have read and agreed to the rules: Yes |
