Payn's page

Awwww. Poor da puppy dog.

"I hope we don't get stuck in the ice," Payn says.

Is...is she trying to be cheerful? Perhaps this is some small quantum of hope from her? Some minor statement of joy, and a cheery thought that they make it through without further ill-fated accidents.

"Because then we have to eat each other."

Or not.

Payn, appearing perfectly normal, has her back to the buying and selling goings on, having little interest in the 'counting coppers' that merchants do.

She nonchalantly pulls her sword and starts peering at it closely, seeing it needs any work.

She also casts Shield, but that could mean anything.

Tired of not seeing posts here. Is everyone just gonna wait for me to do something crazy? =}

I feel like if we don't attack the honest and friendly merchants, we're not really being "wicked".

What say you all?

Payn's mind turns to the tactical. She watches their movements, trying to gauge which are the best fighters, who is the most likely to put up the most resistance...and if any of them like it rough.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Alas, she can only think about how long it's been since she's hurt anything. She starts to imagine the Yutak are all orcs, and if they're not stopped, they'll rape the crew to death, eat their flesh, and sew their skin to their clothes. And if they're very very lucky, in that order.

She's starting to have a hard time time telling fiction from reality.

Well hell. Just in case...how many are there? How many boats? How many guys in those boats?

Payn continues her little monologue, mumbling so her words go no farther than Lukasz's ears. 'Mithril...mithril is metal...ivory...ivory comes from teeth...yes, yes, very good....use our metal to keep their teeth...will get many coins for their teeth...."

Payn gives Allyson a sidelong glance. Seeing that power is being used, she assumes the worst.
And rejoices.

"So much blood...too much to drink," she mumbles, her body infused with power from her master.

Bull's strength.

A MacArthur always pays his debts. ;)

Payn continues to lurk back, twisting and kneading the hilt of her sword.

Payn counts the Yutak, evaluating fighting competency and quality of arms and armor.

Only Lukasz and those very close can hear her mutter, "Why...yes. We do.... Want.....Take....Have...."

Her eyes are red-rimmed. Someone else might guess it from a poor night's sleep.

But those of the entourage can recognize the symptoms of Blood Withdrawl.

"Skulls...for the skull throne..... Blood...for the...."

Payn keeps pacing back and forth, mumbling to herself, "Stabbing fish is no fun, anyway. They don't even scream for mercy!"

Payn spends much of her time pacing, her knuckles wringing the hilt of her sword, as if she could squeeze blood out of it.

Does someone just wanna roll for Leekoo?

Y'know, Leekoo actually has a +6 to Survival. I think that's the highest of any of us. I say he goes for it!

Payn nods as the cleric deftly joins the party.

She goes to sharpen her blade and prepare for the morrow. No matter what, fate willing, it will find a warm home shortly.

Yeah, there's some bad flu going around, and it has a multiple-week duration.

At dinner that night Payn leans close to her companions. "I've no skill for hunting dumb animals. Can someone else come along? If you'll not let my blade taste this fool's heartsblood, then you can at least give me another target to give my blade a warm embrace."

Ugh. Any more of these and I'll start thinking about putting some points in to it!

Survival!: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4

Payn laughs and winks salaciously back, mumbling to him, "Do not start what you do not intend to finish!" before heading to an indicated boat and taking her place for the hunt.

Without thinking, Payn smiles brightly and jumps up. "Ooo! Why, yes, I am a person would enjoy some Sealing!

How do you do it?"

Payn nodded silently at Lekasz's call for patience. That the Captain would come for them sooner or late was smithed assuredly into the future, so she had no trouble bidding her time--putting off sweet, sweet violence for that most elusive of moments: To say that she was right all along.

She retreated to her blankets languorously. She considered ending the night with a sailor...but the sport would probably be far too willing to make it sweet.

She slept the sleep of the righteous.

Later that night, Payn gathers the others together in a darkened corner of the ship. She whispers that there are eyes everywhere and they must needs whisper lightly and keep their heads close. Very close. Closer than that.

To each she places hands on head and brings her soft lips upon ear and whispers, gently, as a fresh morning breeze, "Too long have we suffered the captain that fool! Can we make our attack upon the morn?

What say you?"

Payn nods at the captain's words and her reply is high and light, like a doe-eyed damsel in distress. "Oh my! I do not wish to die of thirst! Of course whatever you wish will be wisest course. Alas, simple travelers that we are, I do not think we any of us have skill or knowledge of seamanship, but of course we will lend aid in...whatever...capacity you would have of me!

Us! I meant us!"

Whether she's being sincere or not is unknown, perhaps even to her.

'Hmmm. It would be easier to kill him in the throes of passion,' Payn thinks as the captain makes so obvious a come-on. "Oh. Well I do like strong men. I'll follow you as you wish...my lord."

Payn's head lolls low, letting her light, sweet black hair hang over her cherry-red lips.Pretty much as her icon shows. Still smeared with blood and elemental ichor, she trails after the captain as would the servant to the master.

Bluff!: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2

Even the daftest amongst those gathered can tell that she would absolutely kill the captain if allowed the barest of moments alone with him.

Payn turns on the captain. "You keep a civil tongue in your head! Else I'll cut that tongue out and see if it's lack makes you better company!"

Who's turn is it?

"Yes! Eat it ephemeral creature! Nothing can escape my power to kill it until it is dead!"

Sorry, sorry. Work decided I wasn't f*&%ed up the ass enough. And I have a cold that makes me think it's always 230 in the morning. Yeah, if I haven't posted to combat in 24 hours, feel free to bot me. =p

Payn drops her bow and draws on her dwindling arcane powers to attack the elemental in front of her.

1st attack!: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (16) + 6 - 2 = 20
1st attack Damage!!: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Defensive casting, Spell Combat, Conc check DC17 for Shocking grasp: 1d20 + 4 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 + 5 + 4 = 29 = pass
Shocking Grasp Damage!: 5d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 6, 4, 1) = 21
Spell Strike Attack!!: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 2 = 24
Spell Strike Damage!!: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

I do see the boat. But there arn't any figs in the water. Hence, um....who here are still hostiles?

I concur. I only see us, the sailors, and the water elemental(?). P.S. Who the hell is Nerianus? Is that an enemy?

Payn brings her bow up to attempts to do what so many others around her can not.

She sights down the cloth-yard shaft of the arrow, but a voice calls to her mind. It is a voice of peace. Of Love. Of friendship, accord, serenity and mutual understanding. It is a voice of...sanctuary.

She feels the onrushing tide of her eternal murderous intent crash into an immovable object of unity that calls for her to lower her bow, and find some non-violent solution to...whatever foolish problem their may have been.

There might have been fighting...but that's in the past. Give up thy sword and return to Earth. The merfolk seems to look directly at Payn and pleads with eyes that say, "Save us!"

Will save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21

Payn looks down and whispers, "No."

Short Bow Attack!: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Short Bow Damage!: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Alas, no. With no ranks in swim, even in calm water, needing a ten, that gives a 50% chance to stay afloat, and a 25% chance to outright start sinking. Since the depth = ocean, even Payn isn't -that- masochistic. =)

Payn looks around at the others, and resigns herself to do something rational.
She goes and picks up a shortbow.
As an afterthought, she also picks up some arrows.

How deep is the water?

Payn frowns cutely and stubbornly tries the spell again. She was never one to ram her head into a wall once when she could to it twice.

Ranged Touch Attack!: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

Damage! Rime spell: If the creature is damaged, it becomes entangled: 1d3 ⇒ 3

Payn concentrates on the merman that is still shooting at the sailor. Using a cross-thatch of arcane knowledge, she weaves a normal Ray of Frost in with the sigil of Rime, elevating the cantrip to a first-circle spell, and flinging it out.

Ranged Touch attack. Rime spell: If the creature is damaged, it becomes entangled: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Damage: 1d3 ⇒ 3

Her fevered brain aches with the effort of applying intellect to a problem she would much rather run three feet of steel through and listen to its dying wail.

Is it my turn? I can haz a plan! =3

Yes! I'm participating! =)

Payn grimaces in concentration as she tries to make the complicated sigils of the ranged attack conform to her whim and attack the nearest fish-beast.

Ray of frost: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Ray of frost damage: 1d3 ⇒ 2

Payn seethes with rage and unrequited bloodlust as she launches another inexpertly aimed ray at the swimming beast.

Ray of Frost: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Again her lack of passion for ranged attacks throws her aim off.

Okay, so everyone still on the boat is either us or the sailors, yeah?

Payn looks confused as she stands and turns in place, looking for something to close to blades with, and seeing none, stands passively, watching the melee in the water, at a loss for what to do.

Finally she tries throwing a ray of frost at the foe that Luckasz's bespelled fishman attacked...

Ray of Frost touch attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

...but she never was very good at this whole 'ranged' thing.

Payn strikes at the creature attacking Lukasz.

Defensive casting, Spell Combat, Conc check DC17 for Shocking grasp: 1d20 + 4 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 5 + 4 = 17 = pass
Normal Attack to hit: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 4 - 2 + 1 = 17
DAMAGE! Normal Attack: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

Spell Strike Attack: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 4 - 2 + 1 = 5
DAMAGE! SpellStrike: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
DAMAGE! Shocking Grasp: 4d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 1, 3) = 13
Attack missed, holding the spell.

Just to throw this out: Would you want help running NPC's in a large battle? I've been flirting with the idea of DM'ing, and being an assistant might be symbiotic.
Jus' sayin'. =)

Posting to all my games: I'll be leaving for a family vacation this Wednesday, and my posting will be spotty until I get back Monday. Feel free to bot me as needed. =)

Payn reals from the bone-jarring blow, and a delicate hand comes up to wipe a trickle of blood from her cheek. She stops in battle to lick it, slowly, from her fingers. "And here I thought this trip would be dull!"

*teehee* Ya never know. They could be armor-wearing water elementals. =)

Her non-lethal sleep charm having had no effect, Payn now just concentrates on inflicting maximum damage. She expends the smallest amount of personal power to give her weapon greater ability to cut the watery devils.
Spend 1 pt Arcane Pool for +1 to hit.

Her hands writhe and glow as mana is drawn into them, waiting for the chance to unleash their destruction into an opposing lifeforce.

Defensive casting, Spell Combat, Conc check DC17 for Shocking grasp: 1d20 + 4 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 5 + 4 = 21 = pass
Normal Attack to hit: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 4 - 2 + 1 = 15
DAMAGE! Normal Attack: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

Spell Strike Attack: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 4 - 2 + 1 = 21
Spell Strike Attack Crit??: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 4 - 2 + 1 = 10
DAMAGE! SpellStrike: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
DAMAGE! SpellStrike Crit??: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
DAMAGE! Shocking Grasp: 4d6 ⇒ (4, 4, 6, 6) = 20

Payn is slow to act, feeling no great bloodlust at slaying creatures that do not seem to even bleed normally.

She instead calls upon her newfound powers, and sends clawing tendrils of ephemeral mind-demons at the creature engaging Allyson. Slow darkness stalks it's ability to remain conscious, and sleep unnatural lays over it like a blanket that grows heavier and heavier.

Slumber Hex. DC 17 Will

Who's turn is it?

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Sry, was at a conference the past two days.

Payn waits until the boat has sailed out of easy eyesight, then sinks down and collapses, consumed with grief that she shall not slay any of the fine, upstanding young men on yon boat. "Concurrence, Master Dex. Do not shurk combat so dearly, dear sweet Lukasz, that we find ourselves back in chains with steel undrawn!"

In time she slinks off and spends the rest of the trip sulking on a pile of ships-rope.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ...................

Will you be re-recruiting for another player?