Skødir's page

Good game, all. Thanks for running, GM!

Even the Ulfen, in his way, [is] honorable

Wooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww hahaha

This place is boring.

"There's no sky key here. Maybe it's in that Hao Gin realm?" Skødir shrugs before continuing, "let's take this stupid book back to the Venture-Captain and be done with this place."

GM do the frozen rooms include those accessible by climbing the sides of the spherical pit?

Neat, buffs!

Skødir snarls and recklessly swings his sword and torch at the undead...thing...
Free action rage, full-attack

bsword: 1d20 + 9 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 9 + 1 - 2 = 17
dmg: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

torch: 1d20 + 8 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (16) + 8 + 1 - 2 = 23
dmg: 1d4 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 7 + 1 = 11
Torches deal bludgeoning damage for a gauntlet of my size as well as 1 additional fire dmg

I hate waiting.

"That's a smart tree," Skødir says as he moves into the room.

Move me up as far as you think is reasonable, GM

"Well do we want to rush in and surround it or bait it out to us? Either's the same for me, really."

Skødir will go over to the north door and wait for Rose to position herself nearby, at which point he slightly cocks his head sideways towards the door.

Ah, holding something...the second easiest way to handicap yourself. Someone wanna open this door? =P

To Rose: "You're alive, aren't you?"

Skødir lights the torch and heads into the ruin, hoping to get as far away from Lenora's nausea-inducing "joke" as humanly possible.

Untir gets a nod from the Ulfen.

This guy gets it.

Remember: your character might be a badass but you're still a CR 1/3 human with 8 HP. Bears are CR 4. Plan accordingly.

Skødir doesn't look too happy. In other news, water continues to be wet. He sheathes his gladius before walking over to the others, cleaning the blood from his bastard sword as he trudges along.

"It's not every day a witch's dishonesty works out in your favor," he comments, making brief eye contact with Uliyara before sticking his sword into the snow, "but I'm not one to question luck."

In the effort to open the mouth of the cave, he will also suggest building some sort of fire to keep the "southerners" and the mule warm.

When the cave is opened, he'll pick up his sword and request a torch from Lenora, which, if given, he'll light and hold in his off hand.

Skødir decides to make his own flank and moves 40' around the boulder/ice-chunk/kajigger, moving up on his foe. His eyes bristle with fury.

move 40', rage free, standard attack
bsword: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
dmg: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

Skødir, ever itching for a scrap, steps forward and draws his swords.

It looks like the square to the north of me would be squeezing? Trying to draw this thing into an easy flank for the others.

"Uliyara? Who the f*%$ is that?"

Skødir keeps working at the wall, making another indent for a second block of clay. He's not really planning it, so much as he's thinking one on the right half and one on the left half. He'll give the others a nod of approval.

With the tree-singer shivering, he'll recommend she take the next set of ice-picking.

"If you keep moving it's not so cold."

Wondering how the others plan to have the clay rest against the wall, Skødir grabs the pickaxe off the mule and begins chipping away at the ice wall, intending to make a hole deep enough to fit a block of the clay.

Skødir keeps loading non-essentials onto the packmule, such as his climber's kit, pickaxe, crowbar, and rope and grapple. After hearing Amhranai's comment, he mutters "I don't like any of them."

He moves up and starts pulling the packmule along the trail.

"We should get moving."

"I'll take one," opines Skødir.

At gen con, will not be posting until next Tuesday.

Skødir rolls his eyes at the situation.

I hate semantics.

Skødir looks fairly disgruntled after the yeti's comment, but that's what you've come to expect from him.

Skødir sucks his teeth for a second,

"Okay."

Internally, he's fuming.

THIS ISN'T OVER!

He turns around, sick of arguing with this stupid yeti, throwing his arms up in futility to emphasize his frustration.

"Walking carpet over there is too stupid to kick rocks. Is it time to speak with the Baroness?"

"LEAVE THE MOTHERS OUT OF THIS!"

I hate this country.

Skødir busies himself with trying to find a quality drinking horn in the market. He'll rendezvous with people when it's time to go talk to the Baroness.

Skødir will lift one of the mead barrels off of his mule and offer it to the guards.

Assisting diplomacy
diplo: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

"Trade."

I am a fan of this pacing. Keep it up, folks!

Skødir spends the time sharpening people's weapons with his whetstone, occasionally grumbling about how he was foolish to leave on a journey with only his waterskin to drink from. Upon seeing the walking huts, he makes sure his iron symbol of Gorum is close at hand.

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Thanks, Untir!

Skødir will help himself to one of the shields (ya never know) and takes a keen interest in the mead. He doesn't want to drink it straight from the barrel for fear of spilling it so he looks around the supplies for a mug or drinking horn.

"Leave them, they have caused enough trouble for us as it is."

Skødir will drag their stable bodies under a tree away from the riverbank, where he begins going through their gear.

Taking everything but their winter clothes.

"If there are more soldiers these men should have replacements coming. We should be far from here when that happens."

Skødir stops raging, and after a moment of befuddlement and confusion, begins laughing.

This is what it means to be live!

"HA! That was a good fight!"

He'll extend an arm down to help Rose off the ground

"I remember my first time being impaled--you fought bravely, little one!"

He then pulls out his wand and tries to heal himself.
CLW wand UMD: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
CLW wand UMD: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
CLW wand UMD: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

I hate magic.

Skødir roars as crosses the entangled area, charging at the remaining guard.

ref DC13: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
bastard sword: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 9 + 2 + 1 = 17
dmg: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

AC 12 until next round.

Does the 50% chance of ammunition retrieval stand in PFS? o:

Correct.

Ammunition: Projectile weapons use ammunition: arrows (for bows), bolts (for crossbows), darts (for blowguns), or sling bullets (for slings and halfling sling staves). When using a bow, a character can draw ammunition as a free action; crossbows and slings require an action for reloading (as noted in their descriptions). Generally speaking, ammunition that hits its target is destroyed or rendered useless, while ammunition that misses has a 50% chance of being destroyed or lost.

Depending on your GM you either roll or just get 1/2 your missed shots back.

Don't forget the active bless effects, along with the whetstone damage on first hit!

Still in delay.

Delaying.

Oh crap, don't forget whetsone extra damage, folks

Skødir looks at the vines, then back at his feet, then back at the vines, then back at his feet, then at his sword, then back at the vines, then at his mule, and then back at the vines again.

Pass.

Skødir points his bastard sword, still dripping with blood, at the other guard/soldier/highwayman/whatever.

intimidoot to demoralize: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

"YOU'RE NEXT? I...guess?"

After being stabbed, Skødir almost smiles.

Maybe these whelps have some fight in them after all...EXCELLENT!

"And may your blood drown worms!"

Free action rage, TWF
bastard sword: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 2 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 2 + 2 - 2 + 1 = 12
spirit surge, adding to attack if it fails: 1d6 ⇒ 4Hoping that makes a difference
dmg: 1d10 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 7 + 2 = 18
gladius: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 2 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 2 + 2 - 2 + 1 = 11
dmg: 1d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 2 = 10

Glad I could be of help. The 5 HD requirement is always good to bring up because it curbs obnoxious "I must detect evil on all of the things" paladin behavior.

acrobatics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13 Should meet DC10 for jumping 5' with no running start.

Skødir leaps from the boat onto the shore, using the extra momentum to close the gap with one of the guards. When he swings his bastard sword, it almost looks like two swings, the second surrounded in some sort of golden glow.

Guiding spirit
Bsword: 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 7 + 1 = 20
Bsword: 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 1 = 13

dmg: 1d10 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

A paladin can, as a move action, concentrate on a single item or individual within 60 feet and determine if it is evil, learning the strength of its aura as if having studied it for 3 rounds. While focusing on one individual or object, the paladin does not detect evil in any other object or individual within range.

Keep in mind that it won't work on creatures with less than 5 HD unless they are undead, outsiders, or have an aura. It's also obvious spellcasting, which is sure to ruffle some feathers.

Sorry folks, we don't have social skills. Any case we could try to make is probably going to fail, and I'd rather have a fight against 2 guards than a camp friggin full of them.

Skødir looks at Rose and Lenora dumbfoundedly.

Yes. Let's take three women to a camp filled with dozens of rowdy men who have been away from their lives for months on end. Nothing unsavory will happen.

"These men WILL steal these supplies, then your trade mission is off. I'd rather fight them here rather than at their camp, where's there's going to be more of them."

Skødir will draw his swords, "Let's get this over quickly."

If given an opportunity to team huddle, whispering
"These men like Irrisen less than I do. They won't mind taking the supplies for Naldak's Point, and we need these supplies for the mission. Besides...if their camp is far away..."

more skald

"I have no love for the witches, but if we abandon those who live under their rule we are just as bad as they are. How far away is this village?"

I'm not your brother, scrub.

Again, in Ulfen
"How far away is your camp? Who is this Halvor? We were told Naldak's point is on the border."

Skødir sighs internally before standing up.

I hate guards.

In Ulfen
"And what are you going to do if we say 'no'?" asks Skødir, thumbing the pommel of his bastard sword.

intimidate: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11

We are all social mavens. It's true.

Skødir does not like the idea of having strangers go through his stuff. The occasional city guard or customs agent is a tolerable discomfort, but this? Especially after they tried to pull that net s&~%, because if net s*&+ is anything, it's trickery. Skødir hates trickery. Nets too.

Give the southerners some time to talk it out...no need to shout....yet.

Skødir follows instructions as best as he can.

assist (untrained): 1d20 ⇒ 20

+2 to Untir's roll