Ozren's page

"Agreed, maybe it is finally FIN ished."

Great scenario, thanks for running Dessu. Fun game everyone, great job by all.

As for the survey:

a)I think descriptions were mostly fine. One thing that would aid you immensely is a better mapping solution. I highly suggest using google draw. It allows you to post maps and use moveable tokens and would aid you greatly in setting the scene.

b) Don't worry about the combat, frankly. Its been my (somewhat limited) experience that folks that play PbP are just as happy RPing their characters then itching for tons of combat. In my opinion, the combat in the scenario was fun and run well.

c)I find that running NPCs can be a mixed bag. I feel they should be left out of combat whenever possible, especially in larger groups but try to get them to interact with the party as much as possible. One way to do that is to treat the npc like a character you are running and try to have him mor her say or do something to spur action or RP every time you post. Even if it is something small or insignificant, just having the npc do something makes him feel more alive and invovled.

I had a great time with the scenario, thanks again for running it.

Ozren beams when he returns, happy to once again be of service to the Grand Lodge. He spends most of the time at the ensuing celebration watching the others drink and sporadically stares off into the night lost in thought.

Ozren recoils when Lort speaks to him directly, clearly not used to being the focal point of anyone's conversation. After realizing it is Lort talking to him, he looks at him curiously. My apologies Lort, I must have been lost in thought though I am not sure what you are talking about. He looks at Lort and he can plainly tell that the odd man is being completely honest with him.

Ozren quickly heeds Gunari's cue to act and falls into line.

Ozren seems to regain his normal placid demeanor once the battle has died down. He rubs his head and watches the party carve up the rapidly regenerating witch. After a few moments he walks over to stand near Gunari. Why don't we remove her head, bury the body, and take the head with us?

Still screaming undecipherable gurgles and clicks, Ozren fixes the now floating elf with a pointedly enraged stare. He slowly draws his sling and fires a bullet at the floating witch.

Ozren uses a move action to draw his sling and a standard action to fire a bullet at the elf.

sling attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Ozren winces as the dark energy again washes over him. His face becomes tightly furrowed and is clearly becoming enraged. He points at the elf and spits, sputters and clicks in a very loud menacing fashion. He raises both his hands high then thrusts his hands out ward, screaming in an echoing undecipherable fury as he unleashes his own innate magical energies at the enemy.

Ozren takes a standard action to cast Cause Fear (DC 15 WILL) at the elf woman.

Ozren growls and gurgles, running toward the fray with a rime lined hand. He steps next to Gunari and brings his hand forcefully down on the enemy.

Ozren uses a move action to move to just north of Gunari's position and a standard action to expend one use of his frost touch class ability.

Touch Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Lol. Good thing it's in Aquan then.

As Ozren prepares to strike the mite, he holds as the big half orc cuts it down. He then refocus his energy and re-directs his power to Lort. He mutters something that may be a blessing 20 leagues under the sea.

Seeing as the mite has been struck down, Ozren will instead cast guidance on Lort.

Ozren growls and gurgles as he raises his right hand. Drawing upon his strange and mysterious powers, he coats the hand with a glowing white frost. He angrily thrusts his hand at the mite attacking Lort, attempting to send damaging frost into the pest!

Ozren will attempt a touch attack with one use of his Wintery Touch ability.

Touch Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Ozren screams out in a low gargle and charges into the room. He runs to aid Lort in his fight.

Ozren takes a double move action to move directly behind Lort.

Ozren nods in agreement with Lort's words and follows him with club in hand.

Ozren moves to Torvic and places a hand on his shoulder. I am sorry for your trouble friend, but the storm often brings wisdom and strength in its aftermath. You have survived, your time is now what you make it. He nods once and moves to the side of the room and sits cross legged on the stone floor.

Ozren looks over his shoulder at Gunari and nods once. He mutters something indecipherable and likewise takes a position just outside the ring of darkness, club held in one hand and his other ready to deliver a freezing touch should anything emerge from the darkness.

Ozren looks to the darkened area of the room but is unable to see what Lort and Zatoma are attacking. He glances to Edgar as he charges into the shadows. He quickly mutters something, consisting mostly of clicks and gargles, he flicks his hand and a few drops if water falls upon Edgar. Ozren then moves to the edge of the darkened area and attempts to see if he can make out what Lort is attacking.

Ozren will use a standard action to cast Guidance on Edgar then a move action to move to the outer edge of the darkness spell effect area without entering the darkened area.

Ozren draws his club and takes a position near Lort.

Ozren looks to Gunari and nods at his suggestion, he attempts to aid the party in searching the room.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 8

Ozren, looks to Lort, then the attacker. He spits and gurgles, looking around at the party as he decides what to do next. After a second, he looks to the assailant and gargles deep and loud at the thing as his frosty steaming hand once again attenpts to press onto the creature's flesh.

Ozren growls at the little attacker and begins to scream and curse at it in low grunts, gurgles and screeches. He points to Lort as he does so, then reaches out to the creature, the nearly always present drops of water around Ozren's hand begin to glow white and as a frosty mist encircles his outstretched hand. He reaches for the small combatant.

Ozren hears the commotion and quickly moves to Lort's position. He begins to bark commands in that same guttural chirping as he did during the cave battle. His eyes go wide and be appears to be barking commands though no one can understand him. When he gets to Lort's position, he makes a deep gurgling sound and claps his hands together once loudly, rubbing them together as he draws divine power. He lays hands on Lort and lets the positive energy of the spell wash over his wounds.

Without so much as a word, Ozren leaves the care of the captured to Lyrehawk and follows Lort back into the workshop, club drawn.

Ozren can cast up to 4 CLW at the moment if needed.

Ozren shakes the frost from his fingers and joins his party as they parlay with the recently freed woman. We are pleased to aid you, though now I pray you can aid us. We seek to dive further into this hall. Tell us of the dangers we face.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

Ozren takes the waterskin from Lort with a nod, not needing to be told how to proceed. He closes his eyes and draws upon his innate power. He placed the open end of the waterskin on his palm and calls forth water, filling the skin. He then aids Lort in ensuring all the captives are provided water.

Ozren studies the man in chains again, and pays particular attention to the plant like growths. He looks to the other members of the party briefly, then places his hand on one of the growths, preferably one furthest away from the captive man's body. He once again taps his mysterious connection to the plane of water and channels some of the energy into the plant, turning the water to frost as he does so in an attempt to freeze the growths off the man.

Ozren, his face forming a bit of a snarl beneath his icy covering, crosses to the chained man and examines his wound. After ascertaining the extent of the man's injuries, he uses his innate power to help stem the man's bleeding. He addresses the man. Can you speak? Who did this? How many? Are they near?

Ozren draws his club as Lort bashes the door. A wicked sneer curls on his face and some of the normal dampness that seems to surround Ozren begins to mist and take shape, forming a layer of ice about his person. He follows Lort into the room.

Ozren, again trusting Lort's ability to lead the expedition, follows him to the east. It does appear that the Storm Lord has visited this place in a foul mood.

Ozren follows the party into the next room, giving the serpent a wide berth. He sticks near Lort, gaining in his comfidnece to lead the expedition.

Ozren, club drawn, joins the ranks of the party as they proceed through the door. He rests his club calmly on his shoulder and looks about the passage with a look of genuine wonder and curiosity.

Ozren's eyes grow wide as the secret door is finally opened. He cautiously steps in, following the party near the torchbearers.

I have never seen something like this. Have you come across many of these places Khalos?

Ozren continues to observe their surroundings as the party attempts to decipher the runes. He tilts his head as he examines the entryway.

I think the GM already made Ozren's perception check. If not, we will also take 20 if allowed for the roll.

Ozren stop his movement as they come upon the suspected door, he tilts his head and observes the the carvings and listens to Gunari piece together a plan. I believe your words ring true Gunari, let us see if we can delve the depths of this place.

Ozren jumps a little at Khalos' words. When he realizes someone noticing his actions, he claps his hand together lightly, discharging the water into drops. Thank you Khalos, but I would not consider myself versed in magic really. I...I just was brought to the world thus way though fir what purpose I cannot guess. It is my hope that the Grand Lodge will help me in this...in exchange for my aid on missions such as these. I certainly could not call upon a being such as your...companion. You must weild remarkable power to tame such a being.

Ozren merely shakes his head at the creatures ramblings then exits the cave following the party. As they move on, he begins to pour water, seemingly out of thin air, casually from one hand to the other as he walks toward their next destination.

Ozren joins Gunari and watches the warpriest interrogate the foul creature. He stares at the little thing as it squirms and screeches for its life. He attempts to play a kinder role in contrast to Gunari's forward tactics, leaning on Torvic to translate. Calm yourself little creature. When one is faced with a storm, it is best to find shelter. Tell the man what you know, or I fear even the levity of the Drunken Hero will save you this time.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

Ozren looks on as the party debates the fate of their captive, his expression one of passive curiosity.

Ozren takes a few more heavy breaths as the party finishes off the remainder of the foes. He attempts to speak to Gunari before he uses the wand, but all he is able to say comes out as similar garbled guttural gibberish. He stops and shakes his head and seems to calm down once the situation has become clearly non combative.

Ozren walks over to stand behind Edgar. His eyes become wide again when Edgar produces the pearl, but he averts is eyes and looks down at the cave floor in an obvious attempt not to become fixated on the object again. As the party presses the dwarf to aid them, he calmly waits for his chance to add his voice to the cause, speaking surprisingly confidently.

The Society is here to aid you Torvic. They have assembled these agents before you specifically for just that task. As you have seen, we are formidable indeed. With our assistance, there is little doubt your goal will be realized, master dwarf. Finally, you will look upon the Gallery of Wonders. We all will.

After speaking to the dwarf, he bows his head to Edgar and once again quiets himself, almost melting into the backdrop.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

Ozren, upon picking up the party's intent to join the fray, runs along with the pack to engage the cave dwellers. He is conscious not to block the eager half-orc from the fight and moves to the nearest target doing his best to stay out of Lort's way. As he approaches the target, frost begins to form on his hands. The closer he gets to the assailant, the more enraged he becomes, yelling at the combatant in a series of low gurgling and clicking noises. He slaps his frosty hand on the foe, sending forth his chilling power through it.

Touch Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
Wintery Touch: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Ozren will stay out of Gort's way and attempt a touch attack to the nearest target using his wintery touch special ability.

Ozren steps up to Edgar and Lort's position and looks toward the cave. he lifts his head and seems to be enjoying the rain despite its cold. Yes . Edgar has the right of it Lort. We should not rush into something we know little of. We need a scout.

Ozren nods in thanks to Lort, not reacting to the half-orc's smile. He winces slightly when Khalos makes contact with him, but quickly realized no offense was meant. He runs a hand through his damp hair and stands. Thank you. Shall we begin our journey then?

When the pearl is unveiled, Ozren immediately stands, as if unconsciously, and slowly walks to Wystern and the pearl, getting uncomfortably close to both. Without blinking, he tilts his head to the side and examines the strange glowing deepsea gem. He is fascinated with the item and stares at in silence for nearly a full two minutes before regaining his composure and re-taking his seat.

He speaks to the gathered pathfinders, again in a soft tone. My connection to the seas is always present. I shall provide our company with drinking water, so do not burden yourselves with the weight of such things. I cannot...he seems to struggle to find the appropriate words then quickly recovers I have difficulty carrying many things, or choosing the correct things...I would ask one of you to bring enough food for me as well in exchange for my gifts of fresh water.

He blinks a few times and settles, staring at the glowing pearl.

Ozren enters the chamber as quiet as a mouse. His simple brown robe somehow appears disheveled. His reddish brown hair and clothing is damp, as if he has just entered the building after walking through a strong rain. He runs a hand through his wet mop of hair, flicking a few drops of water to the floor. He speaks rather softly I am Ozren and I was told to report here.