Harkuf claps dust off his hands and laughs, "Well, that certainly livened the party up!" He picks up one of the disembodied hands that swarmed out of the rubble and tosses it to Seherab, "Here, lemme give you a hand." The dwarf then actually does pitch in to help clean up the mess caused by the undead's attack.
Desmond's mind settles into his paralysis... I hear Mariachi static on my radio
Carmelita hold me tighter
Maaarv hears Jaggar shouting, "Must be something happening over there..." He flies back towards the fighting and through the mist. Thanks to Allie's haste, he is able to fly above the fray. He quickly mixes up an explosive bomb, aiming for the thug that is immediately threatening Allie.
Actually, I may run one more to get me to 10 and my first star.
"A pinned creature cannot move and is denied its Dexterity bonus."
Baron Rudyahm smiles at Davrik's unease on the water, "Don't worry - you won't need your sea-legs for long." He also nods enthusiastically at Chusynd's story of facing dangers at the Blakros Museum. However, his face grows stern as he recalls bygone events. “There were four of us on that trip, plus a half dozen porters or so. It was our seventh day in the bush. We’d had a bad day hunting on the trail, so we split off to the west to follow a little stream deeper into the jungle. The tiger came for us that night, despite our campfires. He must have been young to be so bold. I never saw most of the carnage. All I could hear were screams, gunshots, and men begging for help in the darkness. “With the gun smoke and the darkness, I could barely see the end of my musket. Something took a right nasty bite out of my leg, but I wheeled and unloaded my gun in its direction. I must have only clipped it, yet that was enough to startle the beast. The only glimpse I caught was its striped haunch and tail bleeding as it ran off into the darkness. I managed to limp my way out of the jungle on my one good leg, and that was the end of it. Ah, but we’re going to catch that stripey bastard this time, eh? We’ll give him what for this time around.”
Thank you for that. I'll show my gratitude by ensuring that your character dies last. Joking aside, that was a very nice thing. I will prep this weekend and we'll be ready to go!
"The stew is people. Desmond cries out somewhat mockingly as the party attacks. He was kind of friendly to the rest of 'em. Dunno why the elf turned so quick. Desmond decides to get up-close with the orc - drawing his falchion as he jostles through the cramped kitchen. He winds up next to Atum and swings at the formerly friendly shaman.
"Stay put, Sahrek." The wolf complies and stays where he is.
"Oh... uh..." Rhoswen looks at her arms and notices the scaling that is occuring. "What is happening?" Suddenly, her mouth fills with the sour, acrid taste of poison. She turns her head away from her companions and spits, noting that she seems able to spit much more forcefully than before. "Bleccch! I can spit poison!?"
Rhoswen rummages through the sack of spoils and notes the bindi. "Oh, how pretty." Without waiting for anyone to say anything, she affixes it to her head. "What do you think?" She asks Caith with a smile. She then remembers where they are and takes her sword back into her hands.
Dalton pauses, his brow creasing as he considers Kayluss' advice. "That is true. Master Morak, do you have a secure, cramped space in which we may stow this baggage? They are well bound and- wait. Do we want to rouse one of these fellows and interrogate? Maybe we could..." Before anyone can stop him, Dalton is off and down the road. "I'll only be a minute," he calls to the others over his shoulder. ********** Within a few minutes he returns. In the oread's hands are a simple woolen cloak, a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of smoked goggles. Dalton sets them on the ground next to one of the unconscious, bound ifrits. He begins untying the rope... "I saw this in a stage-play once. It was about these two lower-level clerks working for an important minister. The minister invites them to his country estate, but when the two clerks arrive, they find that their minister has passed away, yet nobody else knows. So, in order to ensure that an important diplomatic trade goes through, the clerks devise a scheme in which they pretend that the minister is still alive! And it fooled everyone. So here," Dalton hands the hat, cloak and goggles to Megfarra, "hold these please." With the ifrit untied, Dalton lifts it up on to its feet, supporting the ifrit by the under-arm. "Kayluss, you get his other arm, there - yes, put it over your shoulder like this. Okay, now Meg, would you be kind enough to dress this ifrit in his new clothes." "There, now, perhaps we can walk over to the Council House a little more inconspicuously."
"Oh drat. We were really hoping to talk with him." Cyrinda walks in and notes, "This place is nice. You know, have you ever been to the Flaxseed Lodge? You could teach them a thing or two about decoration. I like the dignified understatement of the antiques and décor. Oh, which way to the dining area? I believe you mentioned a meal?" Cyrinda walks through the quarters, exploring. "So, where is the Venture Captain?" She asks as she looks for the dining room.
Certainly a single coin won't be noticed... Wilhelm thinks to himself.
Do a bit o' good with this. Wilhelm manages to palm a single gold coin before locking up the box without anyone noticing. "Candle of truth, eh? Well... yes that may be quite useful." Wilhelm's forehead beads ever so slightly with sweat and he keeps his eyes locked on the candle, wary of it's use.
A half-elf walks in, trying to slick his jet-black hair straight back, but his cowlick in the back keeps popping up and refusing to stay in place. "Oh, hello chaps? What's it gonna be today then? Headed to Karpad, eh? Lovely this time o' year, or so I've heard." He slinks into a nearby seat, using a dagger to clean underneath his fingernails. "Oh, names Wilhelm. You may've heard of my various exploits. Yeah, you heard about all that trouble up in Mendev, what with the demons and what-not. Yeah, I was up there and took out a couple of those big goat-headed ones all on my own. Weren't easy, neither, let me tell you..." Wilhelm continues to regale his companions with tales of his supposed exploits.
Sense Motive DC 28 (or just look if you want, nothing serious): Wilhelm is lying through his teeth about fighting demons. He's been on a few low-level missions for the Society. He's just trying to make himself look good to his fellow Pathfinders. He's not being malicious in his story-telling and doesn't use it to put his fellow Pathfinders down.
It's only bad if your posts start with "My wife's second cousin is using this AMAZING internet trick to earn $3675 a week...."
Fruno becomes aware of a slight breeze between his legs as a bolt sinks into the goblin. "Little close for comfort, there!" However, he smiles as he sees the goblins fall. When he notices the surrendering goblin, he approaches, brandishing his axe. "I'm only going to ask you one time, and I want a straight answer. I swear, if you babble on in some kind of goblin gobbledigook, I'll cut that tongue out. Anyway, make this easy for yourself. How many more of your friends are there?" As Fruno interrogates the little whelp, he rotates his greataxe in his hands.
Now that Linnea has caught up with the climbers and they are all close enough to her again, she tries once again to counter the song from the bird-women creatures. "A well everybody's heard about the bird.
Yeah, it was I think the fourth thing I ever played for Society, or Pathfinder in general. I feel bad, but I'm sure the group won't have any problems without me, but I was looking forward to enlarging Grogson again. :) I also put in a role-playing post describing being called away, but my work computer apparently didn't like it, and it disappeared. I'll stalk the board, and keep a better accounting of my completed scenarios. :) Good luck all.
Raoul smirks a little at Aranan's question. "It's quite simple, Aranan. One kills the undead by removing the head or destroying the brain." Bit cliche, and I hope this link works for those outside the US |
