Outhouse Jon's page

Hey EF, I forgot that Jon has a Day Job.

Profession - Cesspit Engineer: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Wow. The privies at the Wounded Wisp never smelled so good!!

Once again Jon has helped the Society achieve one of its goals. And once again he isn't quite sure what the goal was... Still, putting on what he hopes is a smile of confidence, he stands with those that know better and tries to pretend he is a valuable and capable Pathfinder.

Heh. This character has a history of doing very little in his missions, then bonking something over the head near the end. Thanks for running EF!

Diplomacy Aid: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 5

Jon nods his head frantically and points to the red splotch in the snow nearby. Unfortunately, words seem more appropriate to the situation..

Jon steps to the edge of the collapsed area and looks to the rooms seemingly cut off by the collapse. Retrieving his rope and grapple, he secures it at a door and carefully shimmies around a wall to reach one of the isolated areas, searching and moving on until he's checked all of them.

Take 10 on climb for 17.
Take 20 on perception in each room for 24.

Jon enters the complex carefully. The arrow slits make him nervous because, well, people like to use them to shoot arrows and stuff out of them. Lighting a sunrod, he stops at the first one and peeks inside.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

"A whole pack of those wolves sounds really bad." Jon agrees with Nazza as he accepts healing from Papy's wand. "Let's get through this wall before that happens."

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Jon manages to dodge away from most of the cold, but still feels his fingers go a little numb. With a shiver, he advances and swings his quarterstaff with all his might.

Quarterstaff Power Attack (flanking from Nazza): 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 7 - 1 + 2 + 1 = 16
Damage: 1d6 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11

"Uhh.. message?" Jon asks, completely forgetting that he forgot about the message Haltani/Uliyara asked to deliver. "Oh.. yeah, about that.." He glances at the wolf. "So, we were supposed to let her mother know somethin, but I think we forgot. How about you just go ask her?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (10) - 2 = 8

Jon grips his staff and assumes a ready stance for trouble when the winter wolf reveals itself. When it talks, his jaw drops. When it explains its presence, he looks at Haltani in deep confusion.

"Whahuh?"

Jon marches away, completely comfortable in the cold. He tries to offer suggestions to help avoid getting lost, but it's pretty obvious that he already is.

"Uh.. does that way look good to anyone?"

So useless! So DUMB! I'm the worst Pathfinder ever... I'm a Path LOSER!!

Aid Survival: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Should one of us go with her?

"Er.. not sure we could stop her. She's pretty mad."

***

At the Baroness.

"Hi." Jon waves and offers his best smile, which makes him look like the local village idiot.

Aid Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 5

"Never hurts to talk." Jon says with a shrug, then offers a friendly wave to the guards and their ice bear.

Jon follows along with wide eyes, a little worried, but also curious about the Ulfen. He had met a tribe before in Irrisen, the Snowmasks, and had become a member of them, and he wondered if these people know of his brothers. But he wasn't sure if his tribe was friendly with this one, and so he didn't bring it up.

At the meeting in Whiterook he tried to be helpful.

He nodded when the group told of their plans to enter Irrisen.

He shook his head when Halvor suggested they turn back.

He looks surprised when Bargus speaks, and nods agreement, but that quickly turns to confusion.

He nods when Nazza insists they must go on, and again when she says that makes them fools.

He opens his mouth to ask about the witch, but Papy beats him to it.

In the end he simply shrugs and makes ready to follow along with the Ulfen plan.

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 1

Jon reaches out and grabs something to steady himself. As men appear on the shore his big ham-like fists begin to clench. Traps mean clever people, and Jon has often found himself at a disadvantage, or the butt of a joke, from such people, and he isn't placated by Rangor's words

"I don't know..."

Not a man of fancy words, he waits for someone else to do the real talking.

Despite his imposing size, Jon is a soft-spoken man, and quite shy around new people, especially women. His approach to conversation is simple. He just says whatever's on his mind.

"I been here before, a while back. Even spent time with the Snowmask Clan, enough to be called a Snowmask Brother. S'why the cold don't bother me none. They got a ritual that keeps it off. Probably why the Venture Captain sent me here." He shrugs, mostly talking to himself now. "Better than diggin out privies in the Foreign District of Absalom. People there eat funny stuff.. makes for funny, er, well, you get the point, right?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10

Jon accepts Bargus mug with a smile. "Thanks!"

"why 'Outhouse', exactly?"

"It's my job." Jon says between sips. "I'm a waste engineer."

A huge Shoanti man with a ruddy, pock-marked face nods as Haltani offers some insight into the region. "Dangerous. Cold"

He wears stained high-waisted trousers, tall boots, a bearskin cloak, and a chain shirt stretched across a barrel-like torso and pot-belly. An unpleasant smell lingers around him. Though the air atop the ship is cold, he seems unaffected by it.

While the Society could not function without scholars to research esoteric lore, access to such lore often requires a bit of heavy lifting, and unless this man is wearing an exceedingly clever disguise, he is one of the latter.

Looking about the group with a gap-toothed grin, he introduces himself. "They call me Jon. Outhouse Jon actually. Nice to meet y'all."

Hey everyone!

I think I'm set on bringing this guy.

The large man enters the establishment again, bringing with him a sharp odor of back alleys and bedpans. Carefully retrieving a note from a scrollcase, he tacks it up on the public board.

Written upon the note:

A powerful Qadiran trade prince has died, and faction leader Aaqir al’Hakam has rushed to his homeland to attend his mentor’s funeral. The death of such an influential merchant and politician has created a considerable power vacuum, and ambitious acquaintances from across the Inner Sea are in attendance to pay their respects, and likely also attempt to claim a piece of the trade prince’s legacy, and undercut their rivals’ attempts to do the same. As an act of support, the Pathfinder Society is sending representatives to the event in hopes of keeping it from spiraling into a bloodbath.

I've added Scenario #5–21: The Merchant's Wake (levels 1-5) to the sign-up sheet above. Content in “The Merchant’s Wake” also contributes directly to the ongoing storyline of the Qadira faction.

A big man moves to the board next to the door and very slowly adds some information, then rechecks his entry.

"Cr@p..." He tries to rub out and fix a couple spelling errors, but succeeds only in leaving black smudges on it.

I'm going to run Scenario #4: The Frozen Fingers of Midnight [Levels 1-5]. Post here and add your name to the list if interested. Also, I'm probably going to run one of the others on the list, but need everyone to update their availability.

If it is ok, I'd like to switch to Arovandeon my level 3 Osirion Alchemist for this series.

Doh! I've already promised Sior I'd play in his Destiny of Sands game for Gameday 2... Looks like there is a lot of interest in it, so maybe I can duck out. Are you planning on running all of the series as it comes out Tektite?

"Shadow Lodge came for it once, probably come back for it again." Jon frowns at the idea of just putting it back. "Keep it or bury it, but better bury it somewhere else. Somewhere deep and strong."

Jon stomps forward and swings his quarterstaff at the archer on his left.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Damage: 1d6 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

Thanks again Tektite! Unfortunately, I've already played Frostfur (as well as both Tides I think).

PFS# 7162-12
Faction: Andoran

Day Job Profession - Cesspit Engineer: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Jon moves up behind Marianne, hoping the tiger can distract the archers a little longer.

"Wasn't there somethin about a flamin axe in that story last night?" Jon asks no one in particular. Not liking the look of it, he shifts his grasp on his staff, considering the possibility of taking it out of her hands with a quick swipe. He'd seen guards in Absalom do such a thing, so it couldn't be that hard. He hopes.

5' step, move action to activate Martial Maneuvers and pick up improved disarm.

As he prepares for a night's rest Jon can't help but watch the members of the Snowmask clan warily. Bringing them along might seem like a good idea, but he keeps recalling the scene of the battle and the men who died there. Jon joined the Society to learn things, maybe get smarter. Not fight battles.

He takes first watch that night, regardless of whether watches are suggested.

No particular preparations.

"Good story." Jon mumbles, impressed with the tale and the elder's retelling of it.

Aid Another: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 5

Wow. This group is not pretty.

Perform Oratory Aid Another: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 2 = 11

"I worked for the city of Absalom fixing cesspits. Then one day a some thugs threw a man down the hole I was workin in. Turned out he was a Pathfinder, and after I helped him to a healer he asked if I could take somethin to the Society for him. Never found out what it was, but the folks at the Lodge asked if I could return a message to him. I did, and the man sent me back with a reply. Did that a few times. Eventually, they asked if I wanted to help some others on a bigger delivery. They needed to send a big box to a man in Trollheim." Jon shrugs. "I agreed."

"Problem was, Skagni - that was the man we were sent to bring the box to - he went missin. Found out later he was taken by some bad folks, like the ones we're followin. Might be the same bad folks, actually." He frowns, not really sure. "Anyway, we eventually found Skagni and returned the box. Then he sent us to find this keep where the bad folks are goin and stop them from doin more bad stuff."

Jon struggles to recall exactly why he and his companions are out in the middle of nowhere. Something about the Shadow Lodge, and a Keep they are going to...

"We're followin some bad people. They're headed to a keep somewhere around here, I think."

"Uh.. I'm Jon." Jon says as he shakes hands. "Some call me Outhouse."

His eyes keep dropping to Teyma's leg. Or rather, the space where there should be one.

Jon lets his hands dangle. He doesn't put them up, because in his experience that's how many people start a fight. When the others follow, he goes along too.

Cr@p!!

"Cr@p!!"

In a panic, Jon goes left, looking for escape...

Climb: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

..and finds a sheer wall.

Cr@p, cr@p, cr@p!

Muttering to himself, Jon turns a complete circle, then back halfway, before leaping to the right side of the gorge...

Climb: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

..and scrambles up to safety!

Jon shrugs and walks on. "Should keep movin. Don't wanna have to hurry again later."

Jon looks about, wondering if his companion's suspicion of a trap waiting was unfounded.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Jon stays at the head of the group following behind Izoki.

Jon picks up the potion of barkskin and studies it during his watch. Too shy to ask anyone what it does he lets his imagination run with questions.

Hmm... smells like grass and cinnamon. Does it make someone into a tree? Can you still move like that? Maybe it will make my punches hit harder. Will it attract woodpeckers? Better make sure none of those are around if I use it.

When he finally realizes what's going on, Jon fumbles in his pouch and retrieves a small vial marked with a snake crossed out with an X. "Er.. I got this medicine for poison. You need it?"

If this comes up again, Jon has an Antitoxen.

To Marianne, "Didn't we come to this cave to rest the night?"

I think we did the forced march to make it here to rest. Unless there are more dangers in the cave I think we can heal up and take a nap. Jon will take first watch.

The dinosaur's defeated, Jon was about to celebrate with a smile, then notices Rapunzel not looking so good. "You ok?"

Jon doesn't know the dinosaurs are poisonous.

Tektite, I posted right before you post that resolved Marianne's attack. Did Jon take out another Dino?

"Quick little lizards." Jon says, scooting back from a bite. He then smashes down at the little dinosaur trying to bite him.

Staff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Startled by the little creatures Jon takes a hasty and poorly aimed swing.

Staff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

"Don't wanna get stuck outside." Jon keeps walking, assuming the others will press on too. Used to hard work, he falls into a sort of meditative state and plods on.

One, two, one, two...

Con Checks: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Con Checks: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Survival Untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 2

Jon plods along, staring at his feet.

One, two, one, two, one, two...

Jon urges the others to let them go.

Jon barely speaks common.

With the misunderstanding sorted, Jon waves farewell to the Kellids and mutters "Sorry.." before continuing on to the cave mentioned on the map.

"Huh." Jon looks at the bleeding men. "Should we try and tend their wounds?"

Moving forward, he makes an attempt on the closest man.

Heal Untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 11

"Not good at this..."

"I think they might be the ones with bad boots!" Jon blurts out, then tries to look at their feet and match what he remembers of the tracks back at the battle with the footwear of these men. "If they fought with them, maybe they can help... ohh." His hopes turn sour when Marianne spears one.

He trudges up, circling one of the stones to angle in on another of the men. "Think this might be a mis'nderstandin."

Jon with fight defensively. AC 18.