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Ramakanti steps between the soldiers and Katrina and her... escort. "Peace, soldiers! Look at these dead dretches! The creatures you see killed them. I know they certainly, ah, LOOK dangerous, but they're actually under her control, and aiding to repel the assault. Getting into a fight here with them will not aid the city!"
Ramakanti looks understandably wary of the monstrous forms, but going on what the fleeing citizen said-- as well as the woman's own words-- he approaches cautiously, hands upraised. "Ah.... greetings, Lady Deckland. I am Ramakanti of Vudra. Your companions are... they seem to have been very... effective, and the city thanks you. But we are told all the children have been safely evacuated." Despite his wariness Rama effects his most charming bow and smile. "Perhaps such impressive skills might be put to use in other places? Can we assist each other?"
"Ah, thank you," Rama says as Elris easily strikes down the dretch. "Now for these others..." The vishkanya man glides through the combat nearer to the men hunkered behind their barricade. "Traitors," he says. "Cowards. You have sold your soul to the demons and what do you think is now your reward? You are outnumbered and even if the demons carry the day today, you are going to die here, at the hands of these angry, angry men. Surrender and you'll see a jail cell..."
Rama looks somewhat chagrined as Seldiir switches his attention to other targets and the vishkanya finds himself face to face with the dretch. "Oh.... hello." Rama gazes down imperiously at the ugly little demon, his eyes glinting golden. Then, he pulls back from the creature, getting back to the back lines where it's safer. "Perhaps someone can kill that demon?"
As Seldiir is on the edge of the cloud Rama can just barely make him out, and hear the sound of his retching. He hurriedly pulls a scroll from a fold in his colorful clothes, steps forward to the edge of the mist, and calls to Seldiir. "Seldiir! Step nearer to the sound of my voice, I can do something for your nausea!"
Rama slots another bolt into the crossbow but muses that without training as an archer he has little chance of hitting, especially since he doesn't want to strike the beautiful roc. "Can you call your friend back? He's a magnificent creature, but I'm so leery of hitting him with a stray shot that he may be impeding our attacks more than helping them," he suggests apologetically to Bithrilmit.
"Montvale is a coward," Rama whispers to the others. "Strike at his fears... lean heavily on him." For himself, he approaches Antonick, and smiles. "Crusader. This is what you and your men have trained for. I understand the fear that fills you-- you would not be human if you did not feel fear at the sight of this horde-- but the city needs you and your men below. Courage, dear ones: this is the day, this is the hour, to earn your positions."
*** Seeing that Elris is already speaking to Layla, Rama moves to play wingman. "Honorable Elris is right, captain. A wise commander can adapt to a changing situation. Commander Neylan requires all ready troops to come to assist within the city."
*** Sidling up to Montvale, Rama's ever-present smile disappears, and his golden eyes take on a cold cast. "Commander. What do you think will happen should you choose the relative safety of the ramparts, and not do your duty of helping the city in any way possible? Imagine the demons winning. You wish to avoid descending to the hell below: be sure that it will come to find you, wheresoever you are. Better to join the fight while you still have allies. And if you are not marching your men down there in the next three seconds, my friends will help you descend. Is there an understanding....?"
Rama's hand snaps up at the sound of the horns, and he stands in a fluid motion from the table, setting the wine flagon down precisely. "Perhaps the time for talk has passed.... Riltar? A word?" The Vudrani bends to gaze into the halfling's eyes, his own eyes intensely golden and glittering. "You say your training is not complete... but that actually makes you perfect for my purposes. Will you consent to a little game, Riltar of Cheliax? We will make jest at our enemies' expense. What say you?" Ramakanti smiles conspiratorially.
"Cold iron?" Ramakanti echoes with brows raised. "Perhaps I should get some crossbow bolts of that material, then. Helpful to know..." He smiles at the exchange between Osbert and Sheloa, looking amused. "We shall be sure to heed your advice, Lady Sheloa. Sir Osbert, how soon will the briefing from the Venture Captains commence, do you know? Have I time to run to the quartermaster's and obtain these fabled cold iron bolts?"
Rama listens to Seldiir's expert break-down of the city's layout with interest, whilst lounging back in the utilitarian chair as if it were a comfortable divan instead. "Well, you're practically a military tactician, aren't you," Ramakanti says with a slow smile. "Very informative. So we've all these towers, thrusting up heroically against the sky, bastions of the city's defense, each with their primary form of attack to guard against... Interesting. Thank you, Seldiir. Riltar, is it-- might I have a moment?"
The wording of it is a little fuzzy, but here's how it goes: I have to pick one PC (or ally, like an animal companion) ahead of time to receive the implant. (That PC is the 'subject'.) Let's say it's Riltar. When Riltar attacks a creature (any creature) and misses, then as a free action I can trigger that specific creature to be forced to attack Riltar on its next turn, and Riltar gets the +2 AC vs any attacks from that creature, on that turn. The enemy does not get a save, but it won't work regarding creatures that are immune to mental magics (like undead). Importantly, though, it only lasts for one round. (Though I could re-implant this edge after the fight, up to 5x a day.) Since the trigger is simply 'the subject makes an attack' and doesn't specify it has to be a melee attack, this could in theory be placed on a ranged character in the backline, yes-- but it wouldn't necessarily force the enemy to provoke AOOs to reach that character. They just cannot attack anyone else on their next turn. They could take a non-attack action, or move tactically towards the back-liner, etc. It's not exactly game-breaking, just a sort of one-round tiny edge that either forces an enemy to hold aggro, or at least directs it towards a target of our choosing. *** And belatedly, thanks for asking for the 7-allowance, GM. I appreciate the consideration and the effort to allow me to play!
Yup re: False Flanker. Failing that I have Meek Facade which should probably go on whoever has the best tanky AC in the group (if they're willing, of course). The subject magically seems like a weak target, goading an enemy into attacking her. The mesmerist can trigger this trick when the subject misses a creature with an attack (even if it’s part of a full attack in which she hits that creature with another attack). The enemy must attack no one other than the subject, and the subject gains a +2 dodge bonus to AC against the triggering enemy’s attacks. Both of these effects last for 1 round. The bonus to AC increases by 1 for every 5 levels the mesmerist possesses. This is a mind-affecting compulsion effect. TL;DR: slap it on someone tanky so an enemy is compelled to attack them once/draw aggro onto the tank. Ramakanti will pitch it IC as well, but since mesmerist isn't the most commonly played class I thought I'd explain it here too.
Char name: Ramakanti
*** Question for my fellow players: is anyone in this party someone who deals sneak attacks? It doesn't look like it based on classes but if someone has a weird archetype or something let me know.
A colorful figure sidles up to the table, his appearance markedly different to the several well-armed and armored warriors at the table. If the Ulfen and the Shoanti's looks speak of a harsh life on the verge of the wilds, this figure's appearance speaks of a world of comfort, luxury, and hedonism. He is a slight figure but dressed in silks in a dozen rainbow hues, and his 'armor' is clearly more ceremonial than anything, shiny strips of laquered and painted paper just as colorful as his clothing. His face has been heavily made-up as well, with rainbow hues that bring to mind a feathered serpent, or the suggestion of scales. Completing the impression of something serpentine is the fact that the man's eyes are yellow, with slitted vertical pupils. "How true! That not all battles are won with steel. Greetings, friends," the man says in smooth tones, as he sinks languidly into a chair. "Ramakanti, late of Vudra. My. Quite the menagerie, are we not? Impressive armaments and beasts. I wonder what task needs so much force? No doubt we will be told." If beverages grace the tables, the colorful figure will grasp the bottle and fill a glass. "May I serve anyone a glass?"
(My apologies for the lack of response to PM; the weekend got its teeth into me but that's no excuse given I knew this was the start of the retrocon. It sounds like my spot has been offered to someone on the waitlist; I definitely cannot begrudge them that spot given my slowness.) If you still want me, I'm here now, but if the waitlisted player is ready to go, I give them the spot with my blessings. |
