Pell the Peerless's page

Lysle#9810 on Discord.

Sailing Lore: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Ended faster than I thought! Thanks for running!

"Do you think that that is enough to stop me?!" cried Pell as the light blinds, stuns, and dazzles him. He stumbles forward in the direction where he last saw the lion.
Stunned 1, Stride

Pell then wings his two-handed blade hoping to find his mark.
Melee Strike (Bastard sword): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Damage (S), 2-handed: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Flat check: 1d20 ⇒ 19

"What do you know? That felt like I hit something ." Pell says, somewhat surprised.

Will Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Promo Reroll+glyph: 1d10 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 5 + 1 = 12

Perception, Initiative: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

"Leave this beast to me!" shouts Pell as he rushes forward, blade in hand.
Stride x3

Full of bravado, Pell proceeds even further into the cave. His blade remains drawn.

Yeah, being big was fun! Makes Arfsnarf as mighty as Pell when the claws come out!

The goblin flashes a genuine, toothy grin.

"Hold there, little one. Let's not allow our dreams to bring upon a bout of madness, here." cautions Pell.

Pell approaches the cave mouth with a swagger and blade drawn. "Just stand back and let Pell the Peerless takes care of these bad kitties." he boasts to his allies.

At the front

"Well, looks like the bite-sized goblins can sleep easy tonight." remarks Pell as the last cat falls. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I could use some rest."

In the morning, the adventurer attempts to track the cats' trail.
Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

"Time to put these cats down." declares Pell. His ranged weapons spent, he moves out from behind the barriers and draws his blade.
Stride x2; Interact

From behind the barricade he erected, Pell throws a javelin at the nearest cat, then retrieves a hatchet and throws it
Ranged Strike (javelin): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
Damage (P): 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Ranged Strike (hatchet), w/10 ft.: 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 8 - 4 = 19
Damage (S): 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Assuming that any attackers are most likely to enter through the front gate, Pell sets up a series of barriers designed to defend the nearest encampment from invaders and to funnel incoming attackers to a more narrow point.

3 yellow "X"s added to Map.

"If setting a trap means that we can get more rest as we wait for the cats to come, then I am all for it." notes Pell.

"Perhaps, we just need a big dog?" proposes Pell.

Can anyone perform some healing for Pell?

Assuming he comes to...
Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Fell the Peerless?

Flat check v dying: 1d20 ⇒ 3

Deathknell the Peerless?

"So, I suppose out here in the woods that you somehow haven't heard of me, eh?" Pell shouts as he moves toward the nearest bandit to set up a flank. "Allow me to make my introduction."
Stride

Pell swings his two-handed blade at the bandit.
Melee Strike (Bastard sword): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Damage (S), 2-handed: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Then brings the blade back around.
Melee Strike (Bastard sword): 1d20 + 8 - 5 ⇒ (11) + 8 - 5 = 14
Damage (S), 2-handed: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

"I'm just warming up."

Pell gets off the wagon, draws his blade, and heads to the front of the caravan to confront the bandits.

"You bandits may give up now." he shouts. "You clearly didn't not know that these wagons are under the charge of Pell the Peerless!"

Stride; Manipulate; Stride.

Pell keeps his eyes open on the trip.
Perception for Initiative: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

Pell decides to impress the goblins with his tucks and rolls, showing them that they can avoid getting hurt.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

"Of course, it's even easier for you to do it as you are closer to the ground." he quips as he rubs a sore shoulder.

Pell know little about the desert, having lived his life on the seas and frozen lands of the north.

With a +1 modifier, Pell won't risk a Nature check.

"Desert heat. Numerous goblins. Deadly, unknown threat that attacks while you're asleep." enumerates Pell, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He releases a hefty sigh, then declares, "Still, there is a site in need of defense. I can see then why the Society would call upon the skills of Pell the Peerless."

Not sure I have any useful boons on this PC.

@ Doublegold - I appreciate you letting us know. Good communication is a sign of a good GM.

As a Venture Officer, however, I feel obligated to remind you that you need to have the scenario reported (and close to completed) by the end of Gameday. I know this scenario often runs relatively faster than others and that you have been good in past games in which I have played at keeping things moving, so I doubt it will be an issue. If something unforeseen arises and you have trouble keeping up with posts, please let me or another VO know so we can help get the game completed.

Looking forward to this run!

Happy gaming!

Player Name Lysle
Character Name: Pell the Peerless
PFS No.: 90900-2003
Faction: Horizon Hunters
Boons: TBD
email address: Same as prior adventures (or I can PM if you still need it).

Chronicle looks good! Thanks again!

Upon return to Absalom, Pell lingers at the dock for a few moments, looking around in the hope of glancing at least a single dark and dusky, fair-haired Garundi man or woman.

@GM Wayfinder - Thanks for running and providing a run of this quest unlike any other!

@All - This was a fun group (and very fast). I look forward to sharing tables with each of you in the future!

Pell grabs a nearly full, yet abandoned mug from a nearby table and follows the others.

Reflex v. 5 electric: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Reflex v. 4 electric: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

"So, that's how you want it, eh?" Pell replies as he tries to shake off the shock. "Blades out, then!"

Pell draws his sword, grabs it with both hands, and swings at the nearest fisherman.
Melee Strike (Bastard sword) v red: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Damage (S), 2-handed: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

With nothing in hand, Pell pelts the fisherman with his fist!

"Annulled!" he retorts.

Strike AoO (unarmed) v red: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Damage (B): 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Pell makes his way toward the fishermen. "I'd head for my boat, if I were you."
Stride

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

"People, please. Please. There is no reason to fight. We were all having such a good time!" urges Pell as he comes to and attempts to stand. '
How many actions is the skill check? Can Pell also stand? Does he get another action?

"So, you will start, Mr. Peer?!"

"Peerless." Pell corrects as he throws a dart.

Ranged: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

"A game of skill? Against me? I did mention that they call me 'Pell the Peerless', didn't I?" the man replies with a grin.

"To calmer seas." says Pell, throwing back his drink.
Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Seeing the others engaging with Fane, Pell heads to the bar and obtains a fair-sized stein. He then heads to the half-orc's table, sets his drink down upon it and takes a seat. Holding up the mug, he takes a long draught and then explains, "We were told to blend in. Just doing my part."

Leaning forward towards the woman, he says, "The name is Pell. Pell the Peerless, they call me." He provides no explanation as to who "they" are, but instead continues with a smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss. Muscles, brains, beauty, and all. We are here for the execution of a certain document, but we aren't in a rush."

He tosses back the remains of his beverage for emphasis, wipes his mustache, then asks, "Now, you said something about a toast?"

"We'd better get to Last Catch before last call." suggests Pell.

"Stella Fane’s penchant for riotous nights on the town once she’s returned to port are well known. Aye, she'll be out partyin'!"

"Partying?" replies Pell. His face initially suggests that he is intrigued, but soon it shows only focused determination. "Let's get to it quickly, then. All night, if necessary."

"So. um, anybody think to bring a boat?" asks Pell. He then tries to estimate whether the Glorious Payoff is still within shouting distance.

Pell has Sailor Lore, Scouting Lore, and Survival, all at +4, if one of those can help us find a path to a pub (or at least dry land).

Jamal looks around, trying to find where they should be heading to.

"Let's go on the shore, so we can dry ourselves."

Pell takes in the party's apparent position. Shore? He ponders. More like "unshore", it appears to me.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Pell surveys the sand and sea.

Pell grabs his pack and his gear, aims for the dry portion of the bar, and then tosses them over. He then jumps into the water and (hopefully) heads to retrieve his belongings with the intent to don them once he arrives on shore.

"So captain,.. how does this contract work? I wouldn't think pirates would be all that impressed by words on paper?"

"Some of the most successful 'pirates' carry out their plundering entirely through the use of words on paper.." mutters Pell knowingly.

"No sketch?" Pell asks, his voice somewhat lamenting as his thoughts turn once again to fair-haired Garundi women. "Well, then, is there some signal or manner that we can use to identify her? Make sure that we have the right lady?"

"And what of the threats we may anticipate? Has some group or someone in particular threatened to squash the deal?" he asks.

Pell glances at the nearest Pathfinder. "I think she's talking to you."

Only a godly avatar can capture Pell's beauty and it, along with the requested info, has now been added.

"I'm Sturgeon and I do" as he makes stabbing gestures "surgery."

"Sturgery?" Pell muses quietly "Sounds...fishy."

When the introductions turn to him, the handsome warrior steps forward and bows.

"The name is Pell the Peerless." replies the handsome warrior, directing his response to the Sarenite. "Swordsman extraordinaire and fighter without equal."

Pell's eyes jut open as Snagrak speaks. After a deep sigh, the

"Snagrak, eh? You must be quite the philosopher among your 'crew'." he replies, half-heartedly extending a hand. "The name's Pell, though I am more often called 'Pell the Peerless' as there are few quite like me."

He glances at the goblin's attire, then that of Captain Benarry. "It seems that you and Captain Benarry have similar taste in clothing,"

"Though, I must say that it hangs in a far more flattering manner on our patron." he notes wryly, before adding, "which is not often something I find myself saying when describing a half-orc."

Glad to be here! Thanks for running!

"Reminds me of the old days." remarks a tall, ruggedly handsome human with a neatly trimmed beard as he takes in a deep, lungful of the salty sea air. He closes his eyes, soaking in a memory of days past as a bright smile fills his face.

Then, he opens his eyes, spots the pair of goblins, and is suddenly reminded of his present circumstances. The smile fades.

"When I first heard tales of the glorious Pathfinder Society, even when I first contemplating becoming of its glorious members myself, I never imagined that I, Pell the Peerless, would be regularly be spending my days taking in the sights and smells of goblins." the man laments rather loudly. "It is a far cry from the adventures I'd imagine, from the discovery of beautiful, lost lagoons, to encounters with dark and dusky fair-haired Garundi men and women, to, perhaps, even precious...moments... in the ocean waves on the beach under the midnight moon! "

Pell turns his face towards the oncoming breeze, closes his eyes and once again takes a deep breath as if trying to wish himself somewhere else.