Oh, hmm. Not sure actually. I could see how I could read spanish aloud and hearing it understand it. I'll poke around to see if there's any rulings by Paizo folks but if he can't understand it, scratch that translation he did.
It does say:
This spell grants the creature touched the ability to speak and understand the language of any intelligent creature, whether it is a racial tongue or a regional dialect.
I guess I've always played "understand" means read too, but I defer to your ruling which can go either way.
"Uh, never took the time to learn Shoanti. Really a difficult language, not used that often and I'm not sure there'd be a return on the effort to learn it. Unlike the other seventeen languages I'm fully proficient in."
The Professor rubs his holy symbol and glances upward.
"Brigh, be a dear?"
Cast Tongues.
The Professor leans closer and snaps his fingers.
"Aha! Of course. I was right there without Brigh's aid."
"The plaques in order have an animal totem and a name. The first says eagle followed by Story Seeker. The next horse and Meadow Grass. After that is griffin and Meditates in Sunlight. Last is a bat for Tranquil Shadow."
The Professor rubs his hands and observes eagerly from behind his thick lenses, yet has managed to avoid any physical exertion in the retrieval and repair of the stone coffin.
He lets out a dry cough to reinforce such labor would possibly be his last bit of exertion before succumbing to the Bleaching.
You did, it's much easier at a real table I'm sure where you can keep saying to the players, "you're not sure what's going on, but this is what's happening as hard as it is to believe!".
We made those 2 checks right? Mr Teeny on the second and Omar on the first?
The Professor, eyes bulging wide through his thick lenses, exerts little physical effort while the "junior" Pathfinders right the wrongs of any broken stone objects.
The Professor pushes the spectacles up on his nose and squints towards the ogres, quickly judging them worthy of incineration unless he's stopped by an ally.
"Ahem, I hate to be rash but the only good ogre is a dea--"
The Professor's a bit slow at casting fireballs, but he'd begin a series of yoga-like poses and gestures as he warms up to cast one, eventually digging around for a Selective rod should others be in melee. Although, these may be friendly ogres...
The Professor once again appears flustered at his inability to connect with any of the council members.
"Augh, why couldn't the Society have wronged a group of gnomes!"
Clenching his fists, he circles the room a few times before finally stopping to converse with Togimal once again as clearly he and Memory Tender had differences in how they remembered things.
"You play a hard game, Togimal. I suppose that's what's needed to survive in the cut-throat world, isn't it? Not unlike some of us Pathfinders who find ourselves out on missions with allies we just met a few hours previously... I've heard wild otyughs have similar methods of survival, banding together at random..."
Survival:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
The dice won't let the Professor make a DC20, let's go for a GM re-roll (4 stars).
The Professor appears flustered when Omar makes inroads with Memory Tender when he has failed to woo her in his two efforts thus far.
He waves her off and hobbles over towards Togimal in Shadow, squinting at the Shoanti in an effort to read the shadowy individual and see what he has been responding best to so far.
The Professor frowns when he fails to impress the Memory Tender will his aged charms.
Undeterred, he cracks his knuckles.
"Well, perhaps you don't remember the mishaps of the Shoanti that come with youth, but I seem to recall a time when they did a little tomb-raiding of their own, ahem... if you think back to..."
I'll go out on a limb and assume she can be impressed by History.
So, Cousin and Rollicks are on our side already.. hopefully GM Ietsuna can help us balance in character RP eccentricities with our ultimate goals.
The Professor, unassisted by any others in the basic task of walking, hobbles forward and takes his time to squint at the seven members gathered.
While the elder gnome struggled to perceive the quahs through his spectacles or pick out every bit they said, he was wise beyond his copious years at reading these situations having dealt with his share of angry rooms full of leaders, like the time he accidentally mistook diminuative mummified Prince Omnipeht for a snack.
"Ahem, well yes, the Society has made it's share of mistakes. Really need to put a new effort on our minimum qualifications to carry these things, you know? I've been saying that for years!"
The Professor holds up his wayfinder.
"The kids these days seem to think they can just check one of them out without having to pay for it and just go anywhere and do anything and somehow us, err... wiser members are just going to keep bailing them out of whatever trouble they dig up!"
The Professor eyes his assorted companions, wondering if anyone assigned today was given the task as some sort of penance for recent misdeeds.
Having lived enough to see countless generations make far worse mistakes than his moronic colleague, he focuses his initial discourse at Memory Tender.
"Now, you can be honest. I'm sure your tribes have some of their own members denser than a rock do some things in your memory that you'd like to forget. Wisdom only comes with time, and I can tell you nobody in the Society has lobbied more for keeping the unqualified agents out of the field than I have! Ten years in Absalom before field work I say! Give these youngun's time to grow up a little more before sending them out where they can make mishaps like this!"
The Professor squints at the list, reading the names loud enough for someone a half-mile away to overhear.
"Payah Against the Wind? Cousin to All? Kemchet Flame Stoker.. Lake At Dawn.. Memory Tender.. Rollicks In Waves and Togimal in Shadow?"
Sucking in barely enough oxygen to sustain himself, the gnome wheezes for a moment.
"Nope! Haven't heard of any of them!"
He waves his hand.
"But Lake at Dawn does sound pleasant, peaceful even. Perhaps we should bring a gift or two to help smooth things over? A fishing pole for this Rollicks in Waves?"
A small, withered gnome riddled with age spots snorts awake from his slumber throughout most of Ambrus Valsin's just in time to recognize they are being teleported to the Storval Stairs.
"Wait! I, er---- oh!"
Pushing his thick spectacles up the bridge of his crooked nose he squints up the stairs at the two Shoanti.
The Professor, recalling little about the Shoanti, quickly (and intentionally or unintentionally?) degenerates into a tirade that masks his fading memories on the matter.
"Are those half-orcs? Have we been teleported to that orc island? I don't remember anything about a staircase there!? Are they hostile?!?"
As the others brief the addled gnome, he calms.
"Ah, so the Society did it again? Plundered without regard for the natives? I'm not really that surprised. I might remind you all it was only a few decades ago when the Society was much smaller and much more respectful. Why, Golarion was much colder then and the weather much harsher... you know we had to walk to our missions, none of this fancy schmancy teleportation magic like we're some sort of Runelord!"
I saw we were likely rounding up into subtier 6-7 so picked my Cleric to bring to this party (originally had signed up on an Investigator but I think there'll be some more RP mileage out of this particular character, too).
No problem. Things happen I guess... unsure why the folks dropped but appreciate you taking us through to the end, GM Fez. I know it's rough when PbP participation takes a hit like this. The Professor's PFS # and faction are in his profile.
It resisted fire and cold? That's about it for the Professor's damaging tricks alongside Phantom's swordsmanship...
The Professor watches from a distance, wishing he had purchased one of those wands that lobbed arcane missiles about, but them also remembering Brigh had chosen for whatever reason, to deny him the ability to wield such magic freely.
He leaps onto a nearby rock the size of a large grapefruit and pumps his fist in the air as he cheers Phantomblade on.
"Slice him again! Aim for that spot there!"
Delay. Will come out and Channel if things get hairy.
The Professor's eyes bulge, as much from being squeezed by a lumbering tentacle as surprise that his "plan" seemed to work.
"You'll need to squeeze tighter than that! This isn't even half as bad as my second wife's grip on my retirement stash!"
Squirming in the creature's grasp, the Professor implores his magical boots to help him escape this squeeze.
Assuming folks are safely away, he'll use the boots of escape to dimension door to safety, hoping the falling debris is enough to finish off the beast.
The Professor is looking to get pinned/grappled/entangled with the beast, so he can use his boots of escape to dimension door 400ft away, so he'll intend to auto-fail any effort to resist a grapple.
Ah with some folks needing to botted, I'll try to expedite this some.
The Professor blinks a few times as he tries to gauge the quantity of their foes.
"Wha? Fireball formation again? And we've rested?! Ah, as I've promised you all, my magical repertoire has been restored!"
Selective rod to protect Val and Ronin. Should be able to get them all. I forgot the +1 CL from pyromaniac on earlier casts this module, but adding that now.
The Professor, alas, with his spells depleted, is pretty much a source of healing and bless at this point. He will bless the ranged users of the group if we are able to sniper down the fungi from a distance...
Or, if we should rest, he'd fireball from a safe range. :)
