Psotheos Arjax's page

I'll finish up the background for Rilka "Rabbit" (maybe that's her nickname?) later today. In the meantime, here's her character sheet. Please let me know of any problems.

Arriving with his sisters, brother, and mother, Psotheos appears at the feast with new clothes, his hair freshly cut and oiled, smelling of mint. A light green silk shirt beneath a sable coat. Dark gray leggings.

His companions are pursuing their own amusement individually, so rather than introducing them as a group he approaches them one at at time. In time he finds Bjorkus, Toramin, Lindale, Dalton, and Gabriel, as well as the Colonel and Heff. ”May I present, my mother Lady Ulloia Arjax. My sisters Vandria and Selenia. My brother, Lord Leander Arjax.” He scans the crowd quickly. ”I probably have some cousins here as well, if you would care to meet them. Perhaps Uncle Metautheos as well. I haven’t seen him in many years. He was a big supporter of Nuro. He may not be here, of course.”

Ulloia, Vandria, and Selenia wear traditional robes used for grand feasts that are much like the style from the founding of Xilres, centuries ago. Despite wearing expensive clothes and jewelry, Leander appears uncomfortable. His eyes dart around the crowd nervously. He walks with a limp. In fact half his body seems to move more slowly than the other half. Dark bags hang under his eyes. He rarely smiles.

”Lord Arjax has kindly agreed to host you, should you wish, one year hence for a feast. I realize your future may take you to exotic lands for extended periods of time, so if it isn’t exactly a year from now, never worry.”

As the night wears on, Psotheos finds Colonel Geoffrey and Heff. He bows then offers them his hand in friendship and thanks. ”I want to thank you for your offer. If I wasn’t needed in Xilres, if I didn’t think that my skills in architecture and building were essential to our rebuilding, I would join you. Perhaps in the future, after my sisters have married, and my brother too, to continue the Arjax name, I will arrive in Andril seeking to build closer ties between our nations. For now, I must remain here. I have arranged for the bow we discovered to be brought to your compound. Its magic could be well used in your missions.”

Thanks for understanding guys, especially DM Omen. @Toramin, your idea is one I would take if Psotheos was a less hands on, direct action type.

I'm thinking a female halfling rogue, probably burglar archetype. Her family runs a minor security firm in Andril where they break into places to show defensive weaknesses and offers suggestions for improvement. Heff used the firm during the war for consultation and extra training. She really liked working with the variety of characters under his command and when he asked her to join, she didn’t feel any reason not to.

I do like the idea of a ranged attack, so she'll probably use a halfling sling staff.

Where is she now? Maybe Xilres, maybe doing reconnaissance for the next mission...I don’t know.

First off, know that I’ve had great fun playing Psotheos Arjax. However, the background I gave him, the feelings of patriotism for Xilres’ well-being, and the idea that he’d stay in Xilres to help rebuild it, all adds up to me thinking he needs to pass on Geoffrey’s offer. Honestly I can’t come up with a good reason for Psotheos to agree to join the group except through some narrative device that don’t feel like a disservice to his personality and personal goals.

Some characters reach a satisfying ending. It’s okay to walk away.

I’d be happy to start another character. Probably a rogue for useful skills, but not an archer. Most likely a member of Andril's black glove (was that the term used?) who was helping Heff behind the scenes.

Feel free to think about it and let me know what you think. I’ll be able to reply later today.

Psotheos listens to the colonel’s chastisement and praise with mixed emotions, but it’s clear that he accepts the group’s actions and thinks they did the correct thing.

He doesn’t hide his surprise in seeing Heff appear as an agent of Andril.

”Like Lindale, I will think deeply on it,” the young noble says.

As Bjorkus kills Nuro, Psotheos cries out ”Hurrah!” He trains an arrow at the guards, but seeing that their threat is ended, he relaxes and returns an arrow to his quiver. He leans against the corridor’s wall and slides to the floor, not quite believing that the war is over.

He spends a few minutes looking at Nuro’s corpse. Tears of joy stream down his cheeks. He can hear the others talking but doesn’t join in. He wants to hear the city’s bells ringing. He wants to hear the city’s citizens singing. He wants to see Nuro’s body burn on a pyre.

Coming back into the throne room, the young noble says to his companions, ”Thank you! Everyone! Thank you. I will hire a bard to sing your praises. One year from today, please join me here in Xilres and we will feast. Soon, I hope to invite you to my family’s home to feast, but we must attend to other necessities first.”

He witnesses the release of the druids and awaits the arrival of Colonel Geoffrey.

Understandable. G'night

Thanks! I agree :)

Though it'd be really cool if whoever gets the final blow, hit due to the +1 bonus from Bjorkus' inspire.

Forgot the sneak attack damage from the surprise round on Marcus...surprise round sneak attack damage: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 2) = 3

Round 3

”Death to Nuro!” he calls, hoping one of the three Nuro copies will look at him. They don’t appear to react at all, busy fighting with his companions. It is like looking into images reflected by multiple mirrors. He doesn’t give the images a further thought in trying to determine which was the real Nuro. He aims for one at random the one on the right.

”For Xilres!” he says and releases his shot.

Hearing Toramin’s tactical advice, Psotheos switches his aim from the bodyguard to the mage. The flickering, glowing fire outlining her body is a boon with the darkness engulfing this end of the throne room. He releases the arrow, mouth locked in a calm grimness.

Surprise round
Psotheos waits for Lindale to cast a faerie fire around their enemy before launching an arrow.

Round 1 — If he’s not attacked by the royal guards, then he’ll fire at the same target (hopefully Marcus since he's in front of Nuro) as the surprise round. If he does get attacked, he’ll draw his rapier and fight back.

”Not what I expected to find,” the young noble says to his companions. ”How can they feast like this with the Andril army at their door? Are they that confident Nuro will save them?”

Psotheos grabs a handle and pushes hard, digging his legs against the floor and using his core’s strength.

”Bjorkus, give us a chant. One, two, three...push!”

”Wait, wait don’t thr—“ Psotheos says as Bjorkus tosses the soldier out the window. The noble’s face is gripped in sadness.

”Jam it?!” he repeats looking at the trapdoor. After blinking a few times, he bends to examine it, looking for any latches to disable or gaps they could hammer some of the defenders’ swords or shields into.

”For the moment, let’s drag the bodies on top of the door. Bjorkus, sit on top of them. All in all at least 300 kg (since we had to get liters of blood) to push against while we turn that mechanism.”

I wanted to clarify, in about two hours, I'll be gone for the evening too. I'll be able to post again tomorrow.

”Marcus is a mystery to me as well. Caladwen is a foreign diplomat of some sort. At most of Nuro’s celebrations,” the noble says to Heff and the others.

In about three hours, I’ll be out for the rest of the day, so feel free to DMPC Psotheos as you see fit.

Psotheos reaches into his memories of noble parties, feasts, and masques when he hears Heff’s description of Caladwen and Marcus, wondering if he’s met them before.

Psotheos nods when Lindale mentions climbing the tower, but stops when Toramin points out their trouble crossing the water in the sewers. When Bjorkus seconds Lindale’s suggestion, the young noble nods again.

”I do like the idea of scaling the tower. So long as it’s not covered in ice,“ he says.

Strength will be good for Bjorkus’, Lindale’s, and Toramin’s melee attacks, so I vote for Bull’s Strength.

”Thank you for the compliment. My mother, Lady Ullioa Arjax, started my lessons when I was six. After I showed interest for it, I studied under Herabus for about three years. My oldest brother Pythanes was the talented one. He made people weep with his playing. It was so beautiful.” He grows quiet for a moment and finishes his ale.

With an effort he smiles again, adds lightness to his voice. ”If you want to learn any sea shanties you should find Bjorkus, the half-minotaur. I’m not sure where he is now. He has a fair talent for singing.”

”This group does raise my spirits,” Psotheos tells Toramin. ”It’s good to witness some light gleaming in the darkness Nuro has cast over Xilres.”

Before planning with Heff and the others, Psotheos searches the rooms for anyone he is familiar with but doesn’t expect much of his search. He talks to people, asking them about when they joined the resistance, loved ones lost in the war, what they hope for a new, better Xilres. He sips his ale slowly, knowing tonight is not a good time to overindulge.

In one of the rooms, he hears a small band of musicians playing bawdy songs. He asks if he may take a turn on the violin. They play an old folk song and then Psotheos begins to play wild, chaotic, almost noise. After a few measures a mournful dirge begins, almost like weeping. This continues until the cacophony begins again which he resolves into two melodies competing against each other like a battle. The song ends abruptly, one melody cut in the middle, and he nods in appreciation to the musicians for their kindness.

Perform (violin): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

As Heff introduces himself to the group, Psotheos scrutinizes the blond man. There are slight clues in his bearing and a subtle inflection of words that lead Psotheos to believe he isn’t a noble. Clearly a leader and familiar with wealth but not a noble. Perhaps a banker or goldsmith.

Psotheos shakes Heff’s hand, saying, ”Pleased to meet you. I am Psotheos Arjax. It does my heart good to see patriotic sons and daughters of Xilres fighting Nuro.”

Psotheos looks around at the buildings and streets to see the changes since he’s been gone as a hostage. To see his city like this, and knowing what could happen with the plague, Psotheos wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.

”Your headquarters?” he asks. ”That is very generous of you.”

Psotheos sees the people on the buildings and raises his bow in salute to the one holding the blow gun. He moves to the other side of the tent, closer to the melee and shoots an arrow at the captain.

After looking at the map and where Psotheos would be on the map (G12) I don't think he qualifies for the sneak attack damage. Ignore that damage please.

I seem to forget one thing or another pretty frequently, sorry. ;-)

This is under the assumption that the fleeing soldier is in the square J12.

Hearing the Captain’s order and seeing a soldier start to run away, Psotheos grabs the Cold Bow from his shoulder while he draws a normal arrow.

”Surrender!”he calls, dashing past a tent to stand right next to a building, giving him an unobstructed line of sight to the man.

Ohhh I so wanted to do a called shot to his leg. I think because of the simple fact that this is my only campaign that is using those rules.

Drawing his rapier, Psotheos steps back to get between Dalton and the soldier as the blood freely pours down his face. He slides his bow behind him.

”Countrymen! Nuro will be the death of Xilres,” he says. ”Surrender!” he orders, lunging with an attempt to strike the man with the side of the blade.

Move action to C8. Standard action nonlethal attack at D9 soldier.

Yeti and the wizard have been the two instances where he’s fired a sleep arrow at least according to my records. That leaves 5 left, since he started with seven. I’ll be sure to indicate this on the character sheet.

Hearing that there are Xilres soldiers above the young noble readies his longbow and not the magical one they found below. Psotheos rolls out of the manhole and gains his feet next to a soldier. He draws one of his sleep arrows and noticing the wizard, fires it at him.

My initiative modifier is +2 when I’m wearing the armor on my character sheet. Sorry about not catching that before.

I didn't roll any sneak attack or cold damage since I thought that might interfere with the sleep component of the attack.

3rd level? Hello Precise Strike and goodbye -4 when making ranged attacks into melee.

Psotheos recovers his arrows while the rest of his companions heal themselves and investigate the drow’s possessions. Once the exsanguination begins, he helps Dalton and Toramin with the process, becoming fairly unnecessary with magic being used.

Hearing the information about Nuro’s sorceress, Psotheos thinks about who it could be.

”If we don’t bring the blood to that madman there may be even more trouble.”

The young noble’s frustration is clear on his face. He takes another arrow, fits it to his bow, and fires at the drow.

Psotheos squints into the dim light, attempting to make out the exact positions of the drow noble and his companions. He sees a shot and takes it, not happy with his odds but not knowing what else to do in the situation.

Not sure if there’s a negative modifier due to the low-light levels -- but after seeing that roll, it doesn't matter.

The fallen ogre and Bjorkus’ war cry stirs Psotheos to greater optimism. They could win this fight! ”Arjax!” he yells as he releases another arrow at the female drow.

Thanks for spotting my mistake. I did forget it. So...a 16 attack to AC.

Round 3

Psotheos ignores the increasingly desperate situation they face. Bjorkus massively injured. Gabriel frozen. He exhales his fear as best he can, takes another arrow and fires for the drow’s arm again.

I think that's the last called shot I'll do for a while :(

Called shot following these rules which DM Omen said we could use.

Psotheos winces as he hears the sound of Bjorkus’ breaking ribs. As he pulls another arrow from his quiver, he thinks about attacking the ogre, but knows he has a better line of sight with the drow. Psotheos takes extra careful aim at the drow noble’s right arm and fires.

I might take Combat Expertise and Improved Called Shot in higher levels. Especially useful if I remember to make a called shot while adversaries are flat-footed.

Round 1
Surprisingly, he takes the blue bow they liberated from the petrified man, instead of his personal bow given to him by his father. He wants to try it in action and thinks any advantage they can get will be vital to surviving this encounter. The arrogance of the drow noble makes him wonder what nasty surprises she has in store for them.

He steps up behind Toarmin and unleashes an arrow at the drow.

Sorry for holding up the game. I thought I posted this yesterday -- good thing I type and save every post on a text editor. I haven't looked at the rolls, but yesterday's damage was sooooo low. As long as the arrow hit, it has to be better. Maybe I didn't hit the "Submit Post" button after the "Preview"

Ahhh those are the exact same numbers from yesterday. Does the website remember that in a cookie?

Psotheos can’t help but grin in embarrassment and blush slightly after he stumbles through the illusion. ”Thank you, yes,” he tells Bjorkus and clears his throat.

The group enters the room, Psotheos scans the corners and floor between the group and their two adversaries. He doesn't recognize either and the room doesn't have any traps that he can see. His hands slowly go for his bow and an arrow.

I don't think we need another PC at the moment. However if we do get one, the player should know the posting rate is high. Really high.

With the baker
Psotheos looks at the man as if he is deranged. He wouldn’t eat sweets from this man unless he was compelled.

———
discussing the next course of action

”I do not mind your plan Toramin, but since Lindale has a quicker plan, we should follow his. These are the two picks that opened that door...hold them like this and once they are in the keyhole, move them like this. You will feel the tumblers, and hear them too, as you unlock the lock. Any questions?”

Seeing the goblin is under control, Psotheos sheathes his rapier. He checks the other door for traps and locks, disabling them if needed.

Psotheos half-smiles and momentarily raises his eyebrows in amusement at Dalton’s comments. He wants to say, Such words only display your ignorance, but he remains silent.

When the goblin begins to run around the room shrieking, he whips out his rapier and enters a defensive stance. ”Stay where you are goblin -- we will not kill you!” he commands.

”I believe I can,” Psotheos says, removing his tools acquired from Simon. He stands and then kneels near the door, inspecting for traps. ”Bradodroga insisted I learn locks as part of my architecture studies; to help me think mechanically and in spatial dimensions.” He takes out the lockpicks and attempts to open the lock.

That is sad news about Gabriel. Hopefully the offline world will become more agreeable soon and he can return.

When Psotheos hears what the man wants for his cure, he feels hopeless. Not just because three liters of blood from the drow would put Lindale out of action for a few days at least, but also because of the enormity of the situation. This man is the creator of the disease and the best chance for a cure, but he has no scruples and is utterly untrustworthy unless his own well being is involved.

Psotheos doesn’t blame Lindale for walking away, refusing the offer. He admires Toramin for being brave enough to offer his own blood as well.

Overwhelmed with pity and grief he nearly cries as he walks across the chamber filled with his fellow citizens under the throes of the disease. As he holds his breath, it feels like a pressure is building within him, a rage at Nuro that he can’t wait to unleash. His eyes plead with the woman holding the babe to understand that he can do nothing for her.

In the new room, after catching his breath, Psotheos walks around the two minotaurs. ”Like statues made of illuminated motes. I would have studied magic if I knew I could do this,” he says in a whisper. Their beauty does nothing to lift the heaviness in his heart from the last room.

”Bjorkus, does the mural appear accurate to you? There might be some incorrect information that is a clue to the exit.”

Psotheos shakes his head in disbelief. This is the monster that could kill Xilres. The irony of the man’s infection with his own creation is much of a palliative. He clenches his fists and attempts to relax. Attacking the man would be counterproductive.

Summoning his father’s diplomacy lessons, Psotheos calmly says in a neutral tone, ”How can we aid you?”

After Toramin’s hammer becomes a pillow, Psotheos slings his bow over his shoulder. He keeps his hand near his sheathed dagger, ready to throw it if this scene turns violent.

Finally with a face and clothes to match with the name ‘Aether’, Psotheos hopes he might recognize the man.

Psotheos is about to speak, when Toramin cuts to the heart of the situation. The young noble adds in a calm voice, ”What has Nuro promised you for your service?”

I added the knowledge (local) check to the previous post. In hindsight I probably should have created a new post for it.

As the orc answers Toramin’s questions, Psotheos studies his body language, tone of voice, and his facial expressions.

The young noble knows the orc’s answers don’t reflect what they learned from the pech, but at the same time they do seem mostly truthful. There is something that Psotheos doesn’t like about Gelrick’s tone when he says, ”his majesty.” He wants to go back to searching paperwork. Much better than listening to Gelrick. He’s about to turn back, when Toramin accuses Gelrick of being evil and fully aware of the disease.

Psotheos marvels at Gelrick’s calm, almost friendly demeanor.

Psotheos bows deeply. Indeed, our intention here is to depose the king. As a son of Xilres, I oppose any wanton destruction of the city and its citizens. While I hope you are content here, I think the mountains to the north would be more congenial to you and your family.”

Good luck in your final!

At the sight of the white wolf, Psotheos is speechless. The power evident in the creature’s form and bearing is stupefying. After a moment he looks at the creature’s neck, to see if the half-key is there.

”This could be better,” he says.