I had not previously seen that Vital Strike and Spring Attack were incompatible, which was the duo that this essentially relied upon. And while I knew this build wouldn't dish out great damage, I thought it could survive better than most rogue builds, as that was the problem I'd often seen rogues run into - attempting to get sneak attacks put them in situations where they just got themselves killed.
I suppose . . . I will go back on my Fighter idea then. Oh well on that point. Although now I'm starting to wonder which classes can actually put Spring Attack to decent effect.
So, I've been playing Pathfinder for about the past two years and I've seen and played a mighty handful of rogues, and all of them played either the TWF style or Greatsword style, and then one ninja who focused on shurikens and poisoning. When it came for me to build my second rogue, I came across the Scout archetype, and I thought 'Hey, this seems . . . really good, actually.' So I searched the internet a fair bit, and haven't seen a single other example of building the Scout in the same way that occurred to me, and wonder if it has been mentioned and disregarded for some reason that I missed.
I'm in a mid-level campaign of 10th level right now and I built this as an alternate in the event that my current character dies.
20 point buy, Rogue(Scout), PF-only, level 10
Race: Half-Elf
Base stats:
Str 14
Dex 16 (+2 Racial)
Con 14
Int 10
Wis 12
Cha 8
Feats
1 - Power Attack
Bonus (Ancestral Arms) - Elven Curve Blade [Proficency]
2 (Finesse Rogue) - Weapon Finesse
3 - Furious Focus
5 - Dodge
7 - Mobility
8 (Combat Trick) - Vital Strike
9 - Spring Attack
Rogue Talents
2 - Finesse Rogue
4 - Offensive Defense
6 - Bleeding Strike
8 - Combat Trick: Vital Strike
10 - Slippery Mind
9 - Spring Attack
At this level, I would probably have him equipped with a +2 Agile Elven Curve Blade (Adamantine, for DR).
With the Skirmisher ability, as long as the Rogue moves 10'+ in a given round, he treats a foe as flat-footed for the purposes of dealing Sneak Attack damage. So, on an ordinary Spring Attack, his strike looks like (assuming Dex 24 by this point)
+16 Elven Curve Blade Vital Strike + 1.5x Dex bonus + (+6) from Power Attack +2 enhancement +5d6 sneak attack +5 bleed
+16 ECB (2d10+18+5d6+5 bleed/phase) for an average 46.5+5 bleed/phase. Meanwhile, he's maintaining an AC of..
+4 Armor (Darkleaf leather or Robes of Mage Armor)
+7 Dex
+5 Dodge (Offensive Defense)
+1 Dodge (From feat)
+4 against attacks of opportunity
And, with other gear likes a Ring of Protection or Amulet of Natural Armor, he gets an AC of ~ 29 to 30 (34 against attacks of opportunity, which are a likely problem with how much he moves).
His Bleed, Sneak Attack, and AC bonuses will continue to scale simply due to leveling. He does not need a flank or the element of surprise. His HP is rather sturdy. His saves, admittedly, are rather shoddy, and will need to be bulked up in the future as possible (starting with Slippery Mind, for instance). A dip into Fighter wouldn't be too-unwelcome for feats like Devastating Strike and Improved Vital Strike when the time is right, but I overall don't see why I've never seen a build like this previously proposed.
Male Tiefling
I think we can still do it.
We have a fighter, a fighter/mage (with decent skills), a mage, and a healer. I think we should be fine, even if we lack a Glass Cannon or Skill Monkey.
Male Tiefling
Quentin was also not one well comforted in a non-urban environment, as he was not particularly skilled at maintaining awareness in a possibly hostile environment not consisting of humanoids . . .
Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Quentin at F13
Male Tiefling
A gnomish disease a gnome has never heard of . . . Quentin pondered briefly what made them so resistant to disease, and thus what might penetrate it. The easiest thing he could think of is that gnomes, by nature, are magical creatures - they're fey-descendant, if not necessarily considered fey. So something affecting them might not be natural, it could, perhaps, be magical - if it caused insanity, it could be something more along the lines of a mad druid or sorcerer. Perhaps an Outsider of some sort.
They would have to see.
Thank you for your time, Ms. Swiftfoot. We'll report back to you as sw... quickly as we can. Quentin stands up and taps Gordak on the shoulder. I'll round up Woodsman - meet us outside in ten minutes, if it pleases you.
Male Tiefling
Quentin is apparently a rather serious person, because he merely nods throughout Swiftfoot's story, blinking little. He inspects her leg briefly, and responds quickly to her request. "That is what we're here to do, is it not? How might we find these gnomes, and what is this disease?" Quentin did not like the idea of getting sick or insane in lieu of gold.
Male Tiefling
Quentin makes a note of the approximately balanced number of households between gnomes and humans, which is rare to see - one would generally see a clear domination between one of the two species in terms of population. Especially since gnomish populations don't breed nearly as fast as humans, what with all the potential immortality in their race and all.
Once the party makes their way in front of Woodsman's Racket, it is easy for Quentin to make his decision as to whether or not to enter. Valtyra did not want to enter. So he entered straightaway after Woodsman and Gordak.
Intelligence 13 - To recall the details of the note from last week.
Quentin's eyes fall upon the gnomish lady quickly, and he makes his way over to the bar, positioning himself off to the side, not behind her. "Thessilin Swiftfoot?" asks he.
Male Tiefling
Quentin, luckily, came off considerably less nauseated than Woodsman and less venomous than Valtyra. He had made no particular effort to get to know anyone.
As he makes his way off of the ship, he notes a man approaching the party. Valtyra is the first to respond to him, followed by Woodsman.
Knowing surprisingly little of the nationalities and ethnicities (if not races) or Golarion, Quentin was poor at placing the proper word for the man. However else he might be identified, the man identified himself as 'Gordak', which Quentin supposed was somewhat native, both due to the man's dialect and the generally guttural tone of it seeming out of place in Common.
"Quentin Uriel, sir." The man didn't even seem to identify him as a tiefling. Ignorant causing lack of prejudice, quick and precise with words.
Quentin liked him just fine.
Gordak would easily identify that Quentin is very unusual and very much not accustom to the wild. Despite physical prowess, Quentin appears bookish, not strong or terribly sensible.
Male Tiefling
Once the aasimar has left, and Quentin is left with what looks rather close to a smug look on his face, Quentin steps out and quickly finds himself pursued by the gnome from the party. He figured that this would be one of his party mates for the time being. Spellcaster, arcane. Gnomish, so probably an innate, not learned talent. Dark blue skin, bright hair. Old enough to start experiencing the bleaching, but clearly somebody who managed to keep excitement in their life. Relatively young gnome.
"She did not misinterpret me. But I suppose she may lose her fear of what I have to offer - or not. It matters little either way. I look forward to seeing your talents, if you consider them comparable for prejudice."
Quentin was not particularly fazed by either the conditions of cramp, cold, and food that were presented during their voyage. He makes sure to pick up some clothing for the cold, although rather incapable of wearing anything hooded, as his horns made that rather difficult. This also made it harder to strap on his blade, but not horribly so. Furthermore, he picks up a cold iron dagger, just in case somebody decides to steal his go after his sword.
Male Tiefling
... have money, Valtrya, to purchase them?
Male Tiefling
All ready.
On the note of cold iron, Quentin will lend anyone who wishes to purchase Cold Iron weapons up to 5pp for the transaction, just asking that whatever is left is returned.
Male Tiefling
No, no, please - I very much enjoy character conflict of these sorts. Quentin is fairly average for a tiefling, except, as noted, that his whole body is scaled, save his horns and fingernails. Note, also, that Quentin has fantastic intelligence and 5 charisma. His social capacity extends about as far as he needs to have it be to be efficient.
Quentin makes a subtle, somewhat habitual motion of tapping the right end of his sheath with his fingers. The sound resembles steel on wood. He looks at Woodsman, the man who looked like a warrior-type, first. "I actually will fund you to replace your weapons with Cold Iron, if you'd like. Axes don't even require that much . . . once a store is available, come see me - you ought to have one such weapon on you at all times in a fey environment."
More tapping. He addressed his side of this now. "And, she is rather on the money. Aasimar, for all their mystical wisdom and fantastic birth, fall into the same beliefs as many - that blood makes a person. I suppose she is right; my ability to take action and keep us alive may be rather helpful, versus praying to my ancestor or what have you to protect us."
Having never sat, Quentin makes his way towards the door after commenting, "Now, shall we take Vox's suggestion - introductions over, moving right along."
Male Tiefling
The scaled tiefling's facial expression does not change, although something closer to amusement touches his eyes when the lovely Aasimar gets a persecuting tone in her voice. Oh, that was terribly original - a celestial outsider distrusting an infernal outsider. This was going to go along smoothly.
Although, he did quickly reinforce his liking of the brief lady, Vox, who identified herself as a monk. Her minimalistic attitude was also rather nice.
Finally, the tiefling had to identify himself. "My name is Quentin Uriel." He reads the note to identify their objective, and explains his role, meanwhile. "I am a Magus, and I suppose I am here to offer you . . . knowledge. Bladeskill, and, perhaps, a bit of expertise. Whatever it is that we may otherwise . . . lack." Whenever something interesting appeared in the note, his voice halted and then resumed a few seconds later. However, the emphasis of his pauses seemed planned and pointed, rather than distracted.
He hands the note off to anyone else who may not yet have read it. "Our Venture Captain's information expresses worry of the fey in the region. You may find cold iron to be of value for your weapons, those of you who deal with such things."
Kn: Arcana - 19
Male Tiefling
Quentin did not particularly enjoy being summoned to do much of anything. That being said, any summons by the Pathfinder Society's Lodge was probably the most exciting thing that ever occurred in Quentin's life - and the vast majority of the things that he was asked to do were relatively uninteresting. Quentin suspected that this was due to either his near-complete incapacity to deal with people in a friendly way or because he was a scaled demidemonic creature. Maybe it was because he wasn't particularly powerful. Either way, it resulted in apathy towards even the more entertaining aspects of his life.
So, upon receiving these summons, Quentin was not overly excited, but quickly came upon the conclusion that he had nothing better to do than review his books and organize his living quarters, and he had perhaps done this a dozen times in the past week, so, he moved right along.
Upon arrival, the short, scaled tiefling kept his hands in the pockets of his clean, black trousers, his dark body somewhat counteracting the effect of his white shirt. A black sheath hung along the back of his hips, appearing to be a single curve of wood with no apparent difference between the hilt of his blade and the sheath, making it nearly impossible to even tell which side he would draw it from. A backpack, hardly appearing weighed down, sat upon his back. Otherwise, he seemed to have no equipment.
Bright blue eyes sat underneath a twisted, horned brow. They did not look up as they entered the Grand Lodge, but quickly directed the head and body towards food. Because food is good. Once an impressive array of the blandest foods that had been offered had been composed, the tiefling stood apart from the others in the room - the man, perhaps a warrior from the worn axe on his back. Aasimar - probably a divine caster, then, Aasimar were extremely predictable in this sense. A gnome. An exotic-looking woman drinking tea. Many others about, but the envoy that directed him to the eastern end of the room pointed these to him, and he quickly excluded the others from his mind.
"Good day," says he to no one in particular, rather hoping for a briefing before everyone got social. Gnomes are notoriously social. This could end up a very unpleasant scenario. Why couldn't everyone just drink tea quietly?
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