Shackleton's page

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

Shackleton snaps his fingers, hurling a whizzing bolt of flame at the orc before moving into the underbrush.

Produce Flame (touch): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Produce Flame (touch) Confirm: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23 Damage: 2d6 + 8 ⇒ (1, 1) + 8 = 10

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

"This isn't my first boarhunt." Shackleton says, sliding up his spectacles, leaning forward, and nose inches from the ground, taking a few long strides through the grass. "Vegazi, let's follow this trail and truss us up some roast dinner!"

Shackleton pauses to knock on the farmhouse door. "Terribly sorry. Shan't be a moment." he says, apologetically, before following the others with a brisk jog.

Reflex DC 11: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Fort DC 11: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."

Mace: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Batting ineffectually at the swarm once more, Shackleton will move to Argus' side. "I daresay I could use a little more firepower. What say you share some of that there potassium nitrate around, eh?"

Light Mace: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Shackleton sets his jaw, swiping a single crow out of the air but having little effect on the flock itself. "Bother and confusticate these druids." he grunts.

Bah, I need to scribe some manner of AoE spell.

Shackleton rolls up his sleeves, and makes a few ineffectual swipes at the flock of ravens.

CLub: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

"... and the dawn watch is mine. Can't stand to lay about when daylight's burning."

Shackleton leans forward, nodding astutely as he listens to the man's tale. Great bard or not, they are guests under the man's roof. He eats a second helping of the meal, stacks up the dishes high, and gives the man a few silvers to restock his larder. -10sp

"Sounds like you've been doing good in these parts for years, Vegazi. Damned glad you're on our side." Shackleton says, giving his long-neglected spectacles a much needed polish after a long day on the dusty road. "And that was a fine meal, Ort. Damned glad you're along as well."

Shackleton casts a glance toward the children, heads nodding, and back toward Grev. "I wouldn't presume on your hospitality any more than we have already, but the little tykes could use a roof above their heads. We can bed down in the yard." he says, setting his spectacles back onto his nose, peering over them at their host. "Now, you being a literary man, might I presume to glance at your collection?" Shackleton ventures, hoping he might loan a few books for the road.

"I'll have a gander, old boy." Shackleton says, accomplished speed reader.

"Alone!?" Shackleton says, grinning. "She's got gumption, this one. I'll give her that. I'll be hearing it, but Lisbet is right. Better at the Blissful Badger than here."

"Maybe the buggers have already fled?" Shackleton says, optimistically. "Can we afford to wait for em? Should we move on?"

Produce Flame (touch): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Shackleton will conjure up a crackling blast of mutlicoloured light, hurling the firecracker at the fleeing boar while continuing his brisk jog.

Shackleton claps his hands together. "The game's afoot!"

Mace, Nonlethal: 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (2) + 8 - 4 = 6 Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

"... and some nice slices of boar bacon. Goes down a treat with some vensison!" he says, growing so distracted that his swingf goes wide.

Mace, Nonlethal: 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (14) + 8 - 4 = 18 Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

"Cheer up Philgor!" Shackleton says conversationally, as 400lbs of tusk and muscle stare him dead in the face. "We couldn't do it justice here on the road. It needs a proper marinade, wine, cloves, pepper... some nice jam tarts and a mug of dark beer to wash it down. Blast... Now I'm hungry."

Shackleton spends much of the journey entertaining the children with his various cantrips, showing a surprising aptitude with the children. As the boars approach, he motions to the family. "Stay behind me." he says, moving to block the boar's charge head-on, arms thrown wide.

"Don't worry, old chap. Once folk are safe from reprisal we'll give them a proper pummeling." he says, with no small measure of bluster.

"I... Hrm. Sounds like a bloody good idea to me. I'm for giving this woods-witch the ol' what-for! ... but this is a family matter. Vegazi. What do you think? Should we fend her off or risk having her nip at our heels?"

"Didn't seem to out of the ordinary to me." Shackleton remarks, scratching his head and leaving his hair standing on end with the residual magicks. "Whatever the case we shouldn't be lollygagging about here when there are people to be warned."

Likewise!

"Terribly sorry old girl, but these roads are too dangerous to be taking any chances." Shackleton says, fingertips still smoking, he blows on them sharply. Delay to see how things develop. Happy holidays everybody!

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Handle Animal: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

"Oh, do cheer up Miss Lisbet. I think it's rather invigorating! Besides, I had no idea there were hyenas in this part of the countryside..." he begins, his hands crackling with elemental lighting as he chats merrily, as if this were the most normal occurrence in the world.

Acrobatics if necessary: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Shocking Grasp (flanking): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
Damage (Sneak Attack: 5d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 5, 5, 4) = 19

Mopping sweat from his brow, Shackleton grins at the others. "Damn right. We certainly showed them what-for."

Charging Mace: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25 Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Shackleton, not one to be upstage, charges onto the left flank, ready to wheel around and surround them.

Shackleton marvels that nobody complains about the forced march. Shouldering his pack, he trudges on ahead, whistling out a brief tune.

"Marvelous, just marvelous! Shall we be off? We can surely make it to one more farmstead by nightfall if we step to it." Shackleton shoulders his pack, taking a deep breath of country air and beaming, and starts again down the trail toward the afternoon sun.

"What do you say, fellows? Is that time we have to spare?"

No strong feelings either way, I'm happy to wait here a few hours.

I'm so used to playing Strength rogues, it only just dawned on me that I PROBABLY can't carry it as I was intending. Damnedable small sized carry capacity! The image of Shackleton with an entire mountain lion under his arm like so was too funny to pass up (NSFW warning). Alas, the weight of the average mountain lion would put me well over capacity.

Sad to leave such a magnificent specimen to be reclaimed by nature, Shackleton suppresses his inner zoologist and makes his way up the trail. "Nonsense! A little bit of trailblazing does everybody good! Fresh air cleans out your humours and gets your blood pumping!" he booms, with the grace and bedside manner of the completely medically ignorant.

"I agree. Too bold." he says, running his fingers across the fallen beast's flank and admiring it's healthy coat. "I've hunted cats this size for days on end. They're shy creatures, not like to attack a whole hunting party."

He shrugs. "Mystery for another day, I suppose. What shall we do with the creature?"

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
Sneak Attack: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Brutal Beating damage + sicken 1rd: 1d4 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (2) + 4 + (5) = 11

"Magnificent!" Shackleton weaves past the beast, delivering a blow to its flank to slow it down for the kill. "Alas, me without my hunting gear... Look at that pelt!"

"Good thinking, Philgor." Shackleton says, hailing down the homesteaders and offering them the surplus steel.

Shackleton paces too and fro, clearly ready to be off. "A spot of mountaineering once we see to the task at hand, eh?" he bellows, hardly able to contain his enthusiasm. "Jolly good!"

"I'm alright." Shackleton straightens his spectacles, cups two hands to his mouth and hollers at the steaders. "EVERYBODY OKAY BACK THERE?"

Huffing and puffing, spectacles askew, Shackleton waits for the moment to strike.

Mace, Flanking: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 8 + 2 = 13
Damage: 1d4 + 4 + 2d6 ⇒ (4) + 4 + (2, 1) = 11

Mace: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
Damage: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Shackleton gives the nearest orc a hard clout in the ribs, manuevering into a flank if able. +2d6 sneak attack

improved Disarm, Readied: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
"Don't worry ma'am, we'll show em what's what!" he barks, confidently, moving to his place in line. Beads of perspiration form on his brow however, as he faces down his fearsome foe.

"Overland it is! Daylight's burning, chaps. Do try to keep up." the gnome says, shouldering his pack, taking a deep lungful of morning air and making his way slowly up the trail.

"This won't do at all." the gnome frowns, tucking a hand into his pocket and conjuring a silver piece. "Heads for the river, tails overland."

Shackleton flips the coin, letting it hover above his palm for a second (as racial prestidigitation) before snatching it from the air with a flourish. 1d2 ⇒ 2

It's a five hour journey on road to travel to the first four, and just as long to return. It depends if we want to lodge with one of our farmers or not, I imagine, but daylight's burning and I don't anticipate too much resistance.

We're probably overthinking this. :P

I'm not super familiar with the alchemist, but having recently dusted off my 3.5 books the Warlock had that in spades. 12 invocations in total, with serious scaling issues and most of the decent choices sandwhiched in the level 6-10 range. It wouldn't be quite so bad if the Extra Invocation feat allowed you to nab invocations of your highest level, but alas.

I'd hoped to unravel the mystery of why anyone had wanted to play them at my tables, but I'm still at a loss.

"That will take us all day, we want to warn these people as soon as possible. If we want to make good time we can send our two best rowers to the outlying steads across the banks, that should save us a lengthy detour."

"RIGHT THEN! That settles it. Miss Lyra, you and your planturtle are with me. Terrin m'boy, can you acquire us a rowboat?"

If the party stick to the trail and visit the other four. We can quickly visit the outlying steads travelling downstream at four and a half miles per hour (yep, I read up on the vehicle rules). Probably a needlessly complicated plan, but I wanted to get things moving again.

Has our dex damage healed? Or is it possible to get a lesser restoration in the town? I'm open to selling a few bits and pieces (that magic missile scroll, some others) if it means marching off in tip top shape.

"Off the beaten track, eh? That's what I like to hear! Cross-country!" he says, taking in a deep breath of country air. He turns to Vegazi. "You know the way, don't you m'dear?"

If anybody wants to stake a claim to the prot/magic circle scrolls do so now for the sake of action economy. I'll grab the rest. Lisbet?

What about the unidentified scrolls that Shackleton has picked up? Am I able to determine what they are with read magic?

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

"Perhaps I can be of assistance, m'dear girl?"

Shackleton proves himself a tireless worker, what he lacks in size he makes up in vigor. Rolling up his shirt-sleeves, he sets to chopping wood for the pyre, mind racing for what might have brought the fiends to a small town such as Arwyll Stead.

Shackleton observes the service in solemn silence, but his gnomish nature begins to get the better of him before long, and he begins to shuffle his feet, even muttering under his breath as the funeral hymns finally come to a close. "In Shelyn's name, that was the tune the old cow died of."
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He joins Lisbet in her revels, lending a curious ear to her tales and matching her drink for drink and spinning tales of his own long into the evening before retiring, his snores echoing down the hallway. "Have you ever come across an owlbear, Miss Lisbet? Daresay you'll never encounter a more fearsome creature in all of Avistan. The Great Hooked Claw Owlbear tracked our party for six days and six nights, the haunted forest filled with the sounds of it's terrifying growl-hoots..."
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Shackleton, ever the morning person, awakes fresh faced, even taking his morning jog around the outskirts of town, although the perspiration on his brow and peculiar shade of red he turns show that last night was not without it's ill effects.

Shackleton adjusts his spectacles and scrutinizing the young man's face. "You look bloody well awful. You're no good to anyone tired. Sahanā navīnīkr̥ta, as the Irorans say. Endure and renew. You need to rest up or you won't be able to protect anybody." he says, voice laced with concern. "[b]"Besides, we'll beat those bootlickers back to wherever in blazes they come from, you've got my word on that."

Shackleton

Unchained Rogue

+1 Dex

HP: 5+2(con)+1(fav) (35 total)

Saves: +1 Fort, +1 Will

+1BAB

Skills (10 points):
Acrobatics +1
Bluff +1
Knowledge (arcana) +1
Knowledge (history) +1
Sleight of Hand +2
Spellcraft +1
Swim +1
UMD +2

Class Features:
2d6 sneak attack
Finesse training (light mace) I don't really like that you can only choose a single weapon for this class feature and that it can NEVER be changed, but Shackleton's damage just got a lot more respectable
brutal beating (thug archetype)

______

Shackleton can finally start playing as the setter-upper/debuffer that I'd envisioned. He can sicken opponents, and next level also reduce their attack rolls with the new unchained bonus. Also +2d6 sneak attack and +4 Dex to damage. While I won't be dealing crazy TWF damage, I can hit pretty reliably (especially with my touch attacks) and do more than just tickle foes.

I'm not certain whether to continue pumping UMD, as my wizard levels and almost-respectable caster level mean I can use most wands and scrolls. I could be further pumping scouting, knowledge or social skills, or become a backup trapfinder after Argus.

"Shackleton... and you'd do well to wipe that silly grin off of your face until we're sure the town is safe." says the gnome, clapping the youth forcefully on the back. "We got em on the run, shall we give chase?"

"Jolly good show, everybody! We should see what trouble we can get into on the surface."

Shackleton can prepare read magic and detect magic tomorrow.

"Come on! Step to, old boy! This isn't the watch anymore. You're riding with the cavalry! We'll show those Devils what's what."