Randolf Culpher's page

I spent around 8,900 gold summoning and compelling a Planar Companion (a Kolyarut named Zero One) who was Plane Shifted to the Negative Energy Plane in the second round of combat against the Herald of Lissala.

I'll have to remember the mission name "Balls Deep Hail Mary!" Seems like it might add some extra luck...

A skinny, almost hunch-backed, greasy-haired Signifer speaks up from the corner of the room. On his right hand there is a weeping, sore looking tattoo of a red pentagram.

Zarta is not necessary and... like all unnecessary things... will meet with an end not of her choosing.
Thus is the will of Asmodeus.
It is a shame that Tancred spun so wildly out of the circles that the Desimire family had built up. He had such potential. If he retained the course perhaps the issue of Zarta would have been done away with once and for all.

I would not fret on the issue.
This new position that Zarta has built for herself is to merely be the pawn of the Decemvirate. She is under the thumbs of the Ten. She has no agency, no freedom. Merely a songbird in an iron cage being sent deep, deep underground.

That said, if there were to be a... reassociation... of power for the Dark Archive, you could count me among the number for removing Miz Dralneen from her station.

:takes out handkerchief and wipes his mouth at the thought of it:

The party sorceror teleports you directly into the 'trap room' under the waiting hasted human-bane gravity bows of multiple enemies...
Then fireballs you.

Archivist hrm? I could get used to that title.

And your previous belongings? They were burnt by representatives of House Thrune. I'm sure you know why. The Chelish Parent's Society Against Profanities made sure nothing was spared. There was quite a lot of material that offended their sensibilities, so we had bonfires for three long nights.

Time to "persuade" some curators. Hrmmmm.

Victory is ours! Asmodeus foresaw it!

Did you see meee? I was on the front line at the Sanguine Sahuagin, personally dispatching five of the louts myself. If you didn't see me, it's probably because you were too busy tending to the Venture Captains little requests rather than fighting the righteous fight! No matter. You do not hold bravery in your heart, but there is time for you to repent still.

OOC: Randolf was hiding under a tarp on the rowboat with a total stealth result of 13.

Repent, Godless one!

You walk the fool's path. You think that man can defend himself against the wrath of a God? You think Man can build towers that stand during cyclones or earthquakes? You think Man can guarantee an endless harvest to keep the people fed and happy, free from famine, death or war?

Your arcane magic has only increased your arrogance. You climb a ladder that has no wall to support it. When a fire is built, I revere it. You dance around it, praising your own name.

I have heard such platitudes before. I have read them in the tomes of the Azlanti, and those of ancient Thassilon.

Repent Rahtotep. You may have avoided the glare of the higher beings thus far, but soon one will lock it's gaze upon your path and you shall fall further than you ever have before.

I ask you now, before Wrath strikes, read the histories and repent.

*makes the sign of the pentagram on his breast before turning and leaving*

Randolf Culpher thinks determinedly before he draws his sword and joins the throng of merry, battle-hungry Pathfinders.

"If I go, and get thrown from the ship, I'll sink like a stone in this fine Hellknight armour... Worse yet, if I am pulled from the flotsam, I'll likely rust. The fellows from the Academy back in Egorian will have a good laugh about that! Hrmgnh."

The skinny, raven-haired Signifer scratches his forehead irritably.

"Mind you, Pirates are notoriously undisciplined and wouldn't be able to hold up against my Chelish warrior training! They could be easily cowed, and the booty - errh, gold - will be mine!"

The revolting Signifer grins at this thought, rubbing his chin happily.

"But wait! There's all sorts of disgusting creatures out at sea! Kraken! Merrow! Locathah! Jabberwockies! 'Tis better to stay on land where all you'll be doing is beating halflings and taunting Andoren swine. Yes, better to err on the side of cau---"

With this thought, a band of monstrous Half-orc and Nagaji Pathfinder bodyguards march past and drag the hapless cowardly Signifier into the boat with the rest of the Pathfinder assault team.

Whenever I feel sinful urges inflame my Cocytus, I don my crimson khaki shorts and head out into the hinterlands for a punishing hike! This is what we learnt in the Charthagnion Boys Order for Fostering Upright Citizenry! Ne'er will I succumb to bodily temptations as long as there is a hiking track and I remain a Charthagnion Boy with a spirit that keeps on burning!!!

*performs the Charthagnion salute, which looks a lot like a pantomime of rowing, rubbing the stomach whilst patting the head, then saluting to the middle distance. This is concluded with a symbol of the Asmodean cross on the heart*

*rings a little golden bell*

For any patriots that are interested, there will be a consultation session for the Cheliax Ambassador to Absalom replacement scheme at high tea in the Temple District at twenty minutes to the Witching Hour tonight. We welcome any new patriots warmly.

Tonight on the agenda we will be discussing traits that we wish our upcoming new Faction Leader to possess!
The committee will then make minutes of these recommendations to be sent via imp post-haste to Egorian for the consideration of House Thrune.

With any luck, the Prince of Law will grant us a suitable replacement post-haste.
*smiles unpleasantly*

This is just another example of Zarta Dralneen's obvious mental deficiencies.
I move to the representatives of House Thrune that when the Harlot is arrested that she be relocated to a high security padded cell in the Palin's Cove asylum.
Let's see how much she treasures manacles when they're not fluffy.
Glory to House Thrune!!

As I ascend the bloodied steps and take my place on a golden throne before the coruscating energy of the Black Altar, there shall be but one song heard.

It's a Sin!

The only music I permit myself to enjoy is the moaning of the wretched slaves as they stagger in chains toward the fire pits.

Selling a captive, greed-obsessed Aspis Consortium agent into slavery is a far more just punishment than any instant six-second death greatsword-to-the-face ever could be.
Just to add fuel to the fire~

Cheliax prospers!
-Randolf.

Hey James!

a. Do Hellknight Signifers wear Hellknight Armour? Or is that reserved for the pure Hellknight prestige class characters?

b. Could a cleric of Asmodeus who is low level refer to himself as Paravicar, or is this term a high rank that would be the equivalent of a private demanding to be called commander?

c. Uniformity is everywhere in Hellknight orders. Could Signifers wear unique and distinct eyeless masks that differ somewhat from the featureless metal seen in the art of the Prestige classes book?

Thanks for your help!

I spent much of this nightmarish hell-storm prone, nauseated, covered in a mixture of my own stomach acid and the grease spell of multiple enemy spellcasters, then coated in a layer of chilling ice after being targeted with a sleet storm spell. All I could do was groan piteously and be paralyzed by the overpowering weight of my armor as dread creatures stalked the halls and slew my companions.

I lay there, helpless to react.
Carmina Burana is an appropriate thematic choice for music.
:(

My portrait.

I had this icon commissioned from some weak-wristed scamp in Absalom. Idiot child didn't follow my orders for the propaganda AT ALL. The final image will feature me astride horseback, raising my blade to the sky and extolling the virtues of House Thrune. Glory to the order of the Godclaw!

Randolf Culpher swallows slowly. He wipes his greasy hair back behind an ear and adjusts his collar. He is definitely shaken.

Signifer Dza'Thrune!
I am glad I was risen up in the Order of the Godclaw, I fear your lessons as much as I respect some of the reports you have filed in your long service!
I mean no disrespect to your station. If anything, I deeply compliment your deeds for the homeland, aheheheh, *ulp*.
Oily smile. Randolf licks his lips and squints at the others.

Observe Meridoc here, of all things, we have a Halfling conducting House Thrune's business? Can you not see this representation of the sycophantic nature that Dralneen has established in the past two years?! Can you not witness the perversion of our ways that Dralneen has enacted? 'Tis blasphemous. And some of the reports of what has been occurring in Dralneen's residence? I wouldn't believe them myself, had I not seen the expenses firsthand.

I may be new to our business in Absalom, but by the Black Altar, I am a patriot first and foremost, and I care not who knows it!

I would not say these things had I not the confidence my countrymen and women held this truth deep in their hearts.
At a certain point, a powdered face must be replaced with an iron mask.

I find myself summoned from the basement offices of the High Court to serve some mewling noblewoman?
Asmodeus, give me strength!

This is not the determination of Cheliax. This is not the dictums of House Thrune. I will serve my nation, but it seems to *me* and many of my fellow Chelish acolytes that our posting in Absalom would be better served by following those true representatives of Chelish might. I speak of the Hellknights. I speak of the Signifers.

These are the true masters of Cheliax, and the sooner I am following a Signifer's righteous command, the happier I'll be.
I join the counsel of Caiaphus Krupt, he has the right of the matter.

Continue without me.