Ott Underhand's page

Chronicles for quest 4 are here.

@GMParty - Chronicle looks good. Thanks again!

Ott--considering I'm in your Fate of the Scoured God game, we're sharing a table in the present.

@Aeinquel - Glad we are sharing! And I look forward to an opportunity to be back on the player side with you in the future!

"Always leav'em want'n more, I say." smiles Ott.

Underworld Lore: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Field commissioned agent

Thanks for a fun run GMParty!

As for the rest of you lot, it was a good time questin'! Look forward to sharing a table with each of you in the future!

"Not list'n t' reason, then? Sorry to 'ear that." replies Ott, as he tries to incapacitate the crowd non-lethally.

Flurry of Blows

Strike (flurry) v crowd?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4

"Oops, did I 'urt you?" he asks unapologetically.

Strike (flurry) v crowd?: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (4) + 7 - 4 = 7
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

"'ow 'bout that one then? No?" he continues.

Strike v crowd?: 1d20 + 7 - 8 ⇒ (11) + 7 - 8 = 10
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4

"Alright, par'y's over. Move along, now." Ott tries to assure the nearest patrons as he approaches them.

Diplomacy v orange area: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

"'ey now!" cries Ott as he takes a blow to the chin. "That's quite uncalled for!"

Attempting to dodge other patrons, he spies the fisherman brandishing the knife. "You there!" he calls out to the fisherman, moving towards him. "You 'elped start this 'ere fight. And now yer gonna 'elp put an end to it."

Stride; Strike x2

Unarmed Attack (flurry of blows) v blue: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
Unarmed Attack (flurry of blows) v blue: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1
Unarmed Attack (flurry of blows) v blue: 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 8 - 4 = 19
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4

Seeing the potential for a bar-wide brawl, Ott scrambles up the steps and tries to provide assurance to a portion of the crowd. "Now, now. Let's all keep calm. Enjoy our drinks in peace and quiet. There's nothing to see 'ere, yeah?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

"Sounds like a deal." agrees Ott with a grin. Grabbing a dart, he takes his go at it.

Attack/Dagger: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Aeinquel considers the skill levels of the party. "Jakob, you go first. I will take the next round, and Ott can finish with the most difficult round."

Ott nods in agreement with his ally's recommendation, then he turns to Stella, "What do you propose, then, when we win?"

After the toast, Stella says, "Let's play a game!" She walks to a line at a dartboard, "Think you can beat me?"

"Think we can beat you? No, not at all." replies Ott with a smile. "Certain we can, I say."

He reaches into his pocket for a few gold pieces. "Now, how about we make it interesting, yeah? Up for a wager, are you?"

+8 ranged attack here (just can't do much damage with thrown weapons).

Fortitude: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Ott is pleased to have so readily found the woman and to see the sea creature on the plate rather than swimming towards him as he briefly recalls his last mission for an antique gorget.

Not one to pass up a free opportunity for a good warmer, he raises his mug and replies, "To calmer seas!"

Quickly downing the contents of the mug, he adds, "I believe there's a good deal more than one sea on Golarion--seven or so, at least. Best drink to each of them, no?" He raises his overturned mug as a gesture to the bartender to send him another.

As Ott attempts to pry it open, the sand beneath the crate shifts, and you hear the muffled crash of breaking glass from within it.

"Whoops 'right. Tha' can't be good/" Ott mutters under his breath, hoping no one heard him or the glass.

"For the right price."

"No worries, mates. Jus' leave this up to ole Ott, 'ere," the halfling quietly suggests before stepping forward to the dwarf and making a grand bow.

"And time is money, yeah?" Ott replies with a wink. "Well, we certainly don't want ta be a drain on yours. A quick word from you as to the good Cap'in's location and we'll be on our way and you can get back ta ledgerin' right quick. What do you say?"

Diplomacy to Make Impression: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Diplomacy to Request: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Ott spies the crate and decides to have a go at opening it himself.
Athletics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

"Fixed well tight, that one is." notes the halfling. "No doubt been at sea too long."

"A right good deal, I'd agree." pipes Ott. "Well, best be gatherin' me sea legs again. Can't leave the Kortos without crossin' the deep."

Ready to go.

"Aye? And do we have some way to identify the good captain?" asks Ott.

@ GM -Thanks for running! Definitely in for quest 4 (after that I may not have PCs of the right level and Outpost, so less sure).

@All - Looking forward to hitting the pub with you all! oh, and after quest 3, Ott is now level 2 due to GM credit.

Underworld Lore, Commissioned Agent: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

"'Opefully, we've given that a 'ard enough time that it'll think twice bef'r tryin' to make a meal out of someone else." says Ott as he watches the creature swim out of sight.

"All right, jus' 'old stil..." Ott mutters as he slides a bolt into his crossbow. He points it toward the remaining serpent and fires.

Strike (Crossbow) v blue: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Damage (P): 1d8 ⇒ 2

"That's it!" he cries aloud as the bolt sinks into the creature, though not as deeply as he would have liked. He eagerly reaches for another bolt and begins to pull back his crossbow for another shot.

"Oh, yer a live one, eh?" notes Ott as he avoids the serpent's spurting water and reaches for his crossbow.

"Let's see, then if we kin change that." He loads a bolt and fires it at his attacker.

Strike (Crossbow) v blue: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Damage (P): 1d8 ⇒ 6

"Yet magics won't do ya much good 'gainst the mold, mate." suggests Ott. "Nah, what need be done, see, is just scrape a bit off..."

The halfling moves ahead, attempting to remove the spore carefully.

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

However, he clearly over compensates. As the spores release into the air, he notes, "Well now, that won't be pleasant."

Ott tries to shuffle up the mast to lash the ropes.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

"'alfling, over here." Ott notes, pointing to himself. "Water you find knee high is often over me 'ead. Not to mention, me kin're not oft the strongest of swimmers. If this ship is 'alf underwater, have you got any suggestions on how best a bloke like me 'proaches it? Got some potions or some such that could 'elp an ole 'alfling out? 'Summin' we got ta scuttle round below the waves?"

Underworld Lore, Commissioned Agent: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Ott is in.

Reeling from his wound, Ott returns the blow with his fists.

Flurry of Blows

Strike (flurry) v green: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Strike (flurry) v green: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (1) + 7 - 4 = 4
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5

Strike v green: 1d20 + 7 - 8 ⇒ (2) + 7 - 8 = 1
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5

Following his fellow halfling, Ott advances.
Stride

He then unleashes his fists on foe before him.

Flurry of Blows

Strike (flurry) v red: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Strike (flurry) v red: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

Strike v red: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 4 = 17
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1

"The way we came, then?" notes Ott as he heads for the door.

Exploration Mode: Avoid Notice (Stealth +9)

Stealth +7 (I had been using the wrong proficiency bonus) Character sheet has been corrected.

Ott licks his lips and attempts to remove the glyph.
Thievery, trained: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

"That ought ta do it, methinks." he says as he finishes his etching.

@ Milord - Thanks! You were correct, I was using the wrong number for proficiency in nearly all Ott's skills. It has now been corrected.

Milord successfully sneaks up to the rune and erases it from existence.

"I was plannin' on doin' that meself." mutters Ott.

Aeinquel skims over the scrolls and the journal. "Most interesting. I expect the Venture-Captain will want to know about this."

"More than just the Venture-Cap'n, I suppose. Well, do ya reckon we just 'aul all these nicey-things outta here?" he asks.

"Those stagnant baths give ole Ott, 'ere, some cause for concern." notes the halfling. "And not only due to the order's clearly poor understanding of the need for personal hygiene."

He looks around with some concern.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

He then tries to stick to the shadows.
Exploration Mode: Avoid Notice (Stealth +9)

Ott picks up a statue and makes a few efforts to properly strike the gong.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Ott continues to bluff and feint his way into catching the Cinderwisps.

Deception 1 = 28 (per post above)
Deception 2: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Deception 3: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

"Right, then. Seems I should give it a go.". Ott claps his hands together then rubs them in preparation. He then attempts to snatch the Cinderwisp heart sparks, using a series of feints to keep his opponents guessing.
Deception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

He next attempts the Iron Talon grip, not quite able to execute it, but hoping to make a convincing show of it.
Perform: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Finally, the halfling tumbles into the Soaring Ashes style.
Athletics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

Underworld Lore (same as Criminal Lore?) or else Society: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

"She teaches bandits." Ott says to Milord, "Bet 'er explanation'll be easy 'nuff for you to understand, too."

Ott ponders the mentor's tale.

Society to Recall Knowledge: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

"Nice story, skimmed a little on the details there though. Just few minor mistakes, really. No biggies. Just that Pyralisia was morr corrupted by evil energy pouring from the Worldwound, rather than just abandoned by her allies. Not then wronged so much, more just rage for rages sake, you know?"

He looks at the instructor and her students and concludes, "Still, if you want to go then, ole Ott here'll be sure to bring it.". The halfling assumes a fighting stance.

"As 'ey're no doubt properly trained, then yer students are weapons, yeah?" comments Ott. The halfling, unarmed, flashes a smile.

Ott takes up a stance behind Jakob and bows respectfully, recalling years of training that seem like a lifetime ago.

"I could open with a display of my considerable prowess in the marrial arts, yeah? Sort of an ice breaker, if you will?" suggests Ott
.

"An upset, eh?" Ott says, following a whistle. "Someone lost quite some coin on that one, I'd wager. Perhaps enough to consider theft? Or worse?"

Having recently arrived from Absalom, another halfling, this one rather rotund for a creature of his size, arrives at the lodge. Upon seeing it's current state, he displays a look of dismay.

"I had rather expected that there'd at least be some lunch provided 'ere, I did," he mutters.

"The names Ott, Ott Underhand. At yer service, I am. Sent all the ways from Absalom, I was.". announces the halfling. 'Tis some way I can be of assistance 'ere?" Despite his offer and the obvious need, the portly halfling remains relatively still, making no effort to help with any cleaning or repairs.

I think I'd like to switch in this PC for the next quest to replace Pell, if it isn't too much trouble.

Chronicle looks good. Thanks again GM Dennis!

I look forward to sharing a table with each of you in the future!

Underworld Lore: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

@ GM Dennis - Thanks for running!

@ All - Lots of fun, all! Also, I don't recall being in a party with so many thick accents before.

Athletics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

Ott struggles against the wind to reach the centaur.

"Whoah! Didn't realize I was so close to gettin' crabs!" says Ott as he sees the creatures appear out of the cart from which he had just jumped. Rubbing his hands together, he makes his way over to the centaur. Stride

"Yer a few legs short o' bein' a full kraken, don't ya think?" he says as he brings his fists to bear.

Flurry of Blows

Strike (flurry): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

Strike (flurry): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Damage (B): 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (2, 1) - 1 = 2

Strike: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 4 = 17
Damage (B): 1d6 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4

Sorry, life's been crazy and I missed it was my turn.

Ott hops out if the wagon, Draws his crossbow and let's loose a bolt at he centaur.
Crossbow: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Damage: 1d8 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7

"Barding and untamed centaurs are seldom seen together." quips Ott.

Ott keeps an eye out for any further hazards. "No way I'm gonna let any more vermin sneak up on us, I ain't."

Exploration Mode: Search

Reflex (DC 17): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

"Ow! You li'l nut munchers!" exclaims Ott as he tries to shake the squirrels off his person. Realizing that his punches and kicks will do little to quell the bushy-tailed onslaught, the halfling hops down from the cart, sprints over to the downed tree, and attempts to push enough of it out of the way to allow the cart to continue.

Athletics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14