Scraps the Homunculus's page

Sighing again, Scraps crawls back into its Starbucks Delivery box with their famous siren logo and closes the lid.

"No doubt they are ready. She didn't get the Topaz Titan here by herself; she's got help. Maybe go in with ranged weapons like Tanglefoot bags first? Or anything explosive we took off Mumblenuts?"

Scraps avails itself of two of the tanglefoot bags.

Although the horrible, stunted construct doesn't need to breathe, the thing looks up at Arioch and sighs in resignation.

Scraps pulls one of the tanglefoot bags off of its bandoleer.

"Thcrapth! Protect the Mathter!" Igor says "I'll thee to the rabieth tetht thubje--err, our wounded comrade."

Scraps throws its limbs up in the air and burbles in exasperation. As a construct the little amalgam is immune to poisons, disease, all the aches and pains of actual living beings, so it makes sense that it step in and endure the hazards that its creator and the others cannot. Scraps just wished that Igor did make him do so quite so often.

Scraps taps Vindex on the back with it's oversized lobster claw, to get his attention and then gestures for the man to back off for his own safety. Then with a sort of noisemaker-y sigh of resignation that issues from the dozen or so spiracles running the length of its torso the dispirited-looking construct shuffles past, and up to the bars.

20% Miss Chance: 1d100 ⇒ 68 Monster bites dog: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11 damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

Scraps avails itself of two of the tanglefoot bags.

Scraps pours a bucket of wood lacquer over itself, and then sits below the ship's bowsprit at the front of the prow like a hideous wooden figurehead.

Scraps looks hopeless.

Scraps assists.

heal (aid another): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Igor waves his clumsy homunculus away after the thing accidentally kicks the patient with it's one hooved foot.

Scraps makes a grab for the scampering grippli with it's large hermit crab claw.

unimproved grapple (AoO) v Greyish-brown (bless, flank, higher ground, v climber): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

Scraps buzzes overhead to engage the mast-gripping grippli.

bite v Grey-brown (bless, higher ground, v climber): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7 damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

Relgar cheers as Mumbuckle launches glorious fire at Igor. The fire obsessed gnome halfheartedly apologises as he realises that cheering for an enemy while fun is still a social faux pas. Relgar steers Gregor around for another pass and shoots his own ball of fire at black.

Scraps (if it is possible) look affronted that there wasn't more any for him for starting a fire. Also, he's a bit peeved that the gnome just didn't wait for the sailor to dive overboard.

Scraps drops vial of alchemist's fire upon the pirate shooting at him.

Fly to move less than half speed and remain flying DC 10: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

alchemist's fire v Black (range touch, point-blank shot, throw anything, distance): 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 8 - 2 = 16 fire damage + Point-blank damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Scraps gains altitude (maybe, see nautical terminology above) and strafes the frogman with another wibbly-wobbly bag of gelatin.

tanglefoot bag v Brownish-Grey (range touch, bless, throw anything, distance): 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 8 - 2 = 17

Scraps buzzes over the railing (the distance given is from the waterline not the deck as I don't know what the ship's current freeboard is--and no, don't ask me what 'freeboard' means, I just said I didn't know. ;) His actual distance off the deck is probably somewhere between 5-10') and tosses a wobbly bag of gelatin at the first man he sees.

tanglefoot bag v Black (range touch, bless, throw anything, distance): 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 8 - 4 = 19

Scraps takes off skimming the water along the side of the Lionfish just below the ship's gunwale*.

If the ship's top deck is 5'-ish above the waterline Scraps is at an elevation of 0' and probably getting his feet wet. If the deck is closer to 10' above the waterline then Scraps is about 5' above the water. Either way Scraps is out of line of sight unless someone is actually looking over the taffrail, or is significantly higher off the deck like in a crow's nest.

* The gunwale is that part of the ship just below the taffrail. 'What's a taffrail?' How the heck should I know? I don't even know what a 'starboard' is.

"Let me go first, Mathter. Igor will scout for you. Thrapth, tend to Mathter."

Scraps slowly turns to mutely look up at his master's master with those black liquid eyes like glass beads; completely motionless otherwise, not even breathing.

Relgar wrote:

Relgar has no sympathy for ruffians and has no compunctions of immolating this thug should he get out of line.

"See if he has anything good to take and what his business is. Anyone that tries to rough us up deserves to leave with empty pockets at the very least!"

"Yeth. We'll have no truck with theiveth." Igor agrees with a firm nod.

His terrible little construct slaps its stitched-together forehead with an floppy appendage and rolls all of its eyes--even the compound ones.

"Prblulph." it gurgle-sighs.

Scraps unfurls the giant wasp wings from beneath his back chitin, and buzzes upward into the air to see what all the hubbub is about.

**Thrrrrp.**

While Igor and 'the Mathter' decide and the little gnome greedily picks over the dead and dying, Scraps retracts its pincers with a snap and extends a moist pseudopod to help the lady up.

Scraps provides a flanking partner for his maker.

The homunculus face opens along two axis', opening along the seams and revealing an interesting amount of dentition and beetle-like pincers. **CHOMP**

bite v yellow (flank): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21 damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Scraps drops the package of flash powder, and then descends upon the ruffian lobster claw first into the landing zone.

flash powder v AC 5 intersection below (throw anything, range increment): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

From his vantage point above Scarps moves into position and readies himself for what comes next.

On cue, Arioch throws the door open! A startled pirate looks up--"What the--!"

One imagines Scraps already on the inside thinking Or they could just do that....

Scraps flies up to a broken window and peers inside.

Scraps 5' in and 15' up from wherever the broken window is, with a packet of flash powder gripped fast in his pseudo-pod. If there is something to stand on Scraps is standing on it. He can cue Igor in on when would be best to attack.

Are the doors merely barred from the inside (i.e. there's an actual bar in place across the doors)? Scraps could fly down and remove it.

Scraps could also carry up and then toss one end of a rope down from the window if folks can make a DC 5 climb check (DC 10 accelerated climb).

Scraps signs forlornly. From beneath its chitinous back armor Scraps unfurls a pair of giant wasp-like wings they buzz up to speed and flies upward and through the window.

Scraps and Igor share a 1,500' telepathic link. What Scraps knows, Igor knows too. Scraps also has darkvision 60'. So basically he's the Pathfinder equivalent of a modern surveillance drone with night vision.

stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

From behind the corner of the bar there scuttles a small aberration of some sort. It seems to be a crudely sewn-together pastiche of every creature ever put in a bestiary, a sort of collected crib note of fauna-kind. If ever you needed a remembrance of some mammal, insect, crustacean, reptile, or cephalopod you need only look at this thing for a hint.

The animate amalgam comes to rest then sags a bit making a long, wet squelching noise as it slowly subsides.

Chronicles should be found here. I'll mark this inactive in a few days. Thanks for playing

Scraps draws upon the bit of slate he wears on a rope around his neck with a piece of white chalk the image of a crude, 3-fingered thumbs up.

{faceflipper*}

* A gesture wherein a person covers their face with their flipper out of a sense of incredulity or embarrassment, similar to a facepalm.

Yea! Scraps lives to not breathe another day!

Back at the surface, at the entrance of the Red Redoubt, a familiar face, Venture Captain Ambrus Valsin, Chamberlain of the Grand Lodge, awaits. "What in the name of Phlegethon happened to you in there? What happened?"

Scraps explains in a crude, squelching pantomime.

Scraps turns back to the fight and draws a flask of alchemist's fire from his pack and then waits for an opening.

Scraps subsides in exasperation and rolls his eyes as everyone gets in the way of his throwing the alchemist's fire.

Ready to throw once everyone is out of splash range.

Scraps turns back to the fight and draws a flask of alchemist's fire from his pack and then waits for an opening.

{Shove!}

bull rush v Igor (cowering): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19 With penalties i think Igor is at CMD 12. What is along (and just beyond) the southern edge of the map? Scraps may push Igor further, and follow along, if able.

Scraps dives in and shoves his chirugeon master out of the way!

bull rush v Igor (currently no Dex bonus, -2 AC): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

The gas behind the glass on the purple construct begins to swirl and pulsate in an enticing manner. I need everyone who isn't threatened by the other robot, [and NOT a construct] (so Goran, Perinne, Avi and Meleren) to give me a will Save. This is a mind-affecting effect

Scraps makes a noise like someone blowing sassy raspberries, but without any obvious motion for no obvious reason as he steps forward to pitch Igor's bag of jelly at the nearest construct (aside from himself) with both of his fore limbs.

tanglefoot bag v green (imprecise, range touch): 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 4 = 20

WubWUbwUB-SPLURCH!

Could someone move me on the map, please?

I live to serve.

...unless i missed something...

Hopefully Scraps! ;)

While the party risks life and limb, TB and Scraps are off playing a dangerous game of "Hold your Breath!" where TB tries to keeps his lungs in his chest while Scraps toggles the atmosphere on and off! The most fun you could ever have before an agonizing and perfectly foreseeable death! :D

***

The Adventures of
---SCRAPS---
...and Thundering Bull

Scraps tackles the lower shelves even though Igor always seems bent over, and at present he is just as large.

The only time limiter we have is the enlarge and shield of faith effects on Scraps, which might be up already) but both Scraps and Igor are pragmatic about that.

aid other (Igor Appraise): 1d20 ⇒ 4
aid other (Igor Appraise): 1d20 ⇒ 20
aid other (Igor Appraise): 1d20 ⇒ 11
aid other (Igor Appraise): 1d20 ⇒ 14
aid other (Igor Appraise): 1d20 ⇒ 14

The construct does not see anything of particular interest in the room. Big ol' Scraps is able to pull the lever, and the sublevel quickly begins to fill with wind. Scraps has to brace against winds that form, and the shift from near-vacuum to pressurized would do some damage if Scraps had, whaddya call 'em, lungs. Without those, it feels more like a strenuous massage.

They are more like bellows for the maintaining buoyancy when he flies or has to swim. ;)

Scraps departs.

Scraps collects the items he's been sent for before giving the place one more look for anything else.

perception (guidance): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 6 + 1 = 25

Then (with a one vote margin!) he pulls the jolly, candy-like air pump lever.

???

Giving folks time to vote. If Scraps can just grab what we need and leave never to return that's fine with Igor. Scraps however believes very strongly that all toggles should be toggled.

”Ah, good thinking Scraps. You mind taking a quick search out there for us? Bring anything back that looks interesting, would you,” Perrine asks the little robotic fella.

The horrid little canine, insect, crustacean, lizard, tofu amalgam smartly salutes the gnome using it's big lobster-like appendage.

Alright, that is very clever. Just to be clear, Scraps is only a construct, does not count as a living thing?

Scraps is a construct and has all the common traits of the creature type. As for being a "living thing" that's not exactly spelled out anywhere. He is independently intelligent/sentient, but doesn't need to breathe, eat or sleep. Igor and Scraps share a telepathic bond, and Scraps has the ability take elixirs made by Igor that ordinarily could only target Igor or other humanoids like cure light wounds or enlarge person via his sympathetic alchemy ability--speaking of which, Igor gives his construct his enlarge person extract (CL 3) to take before he goes up. Again, because he is a construct this does some weird things to him as constructs gain bonus hp based upon their size (reflected in the stat line above).

Scraps downs the potion in one gulp and suddenly grows to twice his size. Now he's a Medium construct!

Scraps presses the green button twice, and the elevator takes off with only him in it.

A series of glassy panels form a semicircular array along the southern walls of this circular room. Some of the panels are lit but blank, while others flicker with a jarring, black-and-white dotted pattern. Many are cracked or simply dark. A throne-like chair sits before a mechanical table in the center of the room. A skeleton slumps in the chair, one bony hand grasping a large lever. Its other hand, wearing a strange, silvery glove, rests upon a glowing plate.

What does Scraps do?

Telepathically informs his master of his surroundings (assuming they are within 1500' of each other), who points out the highlights to everyone else.

Scraps moves toward the jolly, candy-like lever pondering what it might do.

Splurch? squelches Igor's handmade assistant.

If we want to send someone up, how about someone who doesn't breathe?

Scraps tucks away his vial of holy water, and looks at the crystal too, and then shrugs in apparent incomprehension.

Scraps pulls his vial of holy water and moves forward.

Scraps unfurls his giant insect wings and buzzes just above the ground, and around the central column.

Alas, he fails his fly check (but not badly enough to fall) and can't turn as quickly as he would like to. Instead attacking, he takes a second move action to maneuver awkwardly into position. Assuming there is at least 15' to the ceiling he elevates himself up 10'.

Scraps pulls his vial of holy water and moves forward.

"Well they thertainly thound like fine recruitment material. Perhaps the Murder Hobo facthion?" suggests Igor gamely.

Scraps palms his stitched face with his enlarged hermit crab claw in apparent resignation.

sense motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

{????}

Awaits the commands of his master.

Scraps aids his maker.

perception (aid): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 or not.

Scraps moves a step closer, drawing a flask of acid from his harness and readies to toss it at the construct should it clear the splash radius of his master, and his allies.

Readied.