"You could say we found him boxed in, after being..." Sgt. Blue rolls his eyes, "...overwhelmed. Captive as much by his youthful pride and inexperience, as his foes' superiority. No matter their size."
"Here is a sword we got from the bandits, it bears the mark of a quality sword maker." says Blue. He offers the short sword hilt first with the makers mark flipped to face down towards the ground.
Diplo. Assist for Edward:1d20 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
However Blue is not so subtle, and clears his throat as he checks for which side the mark is on.
Blue watches the fight, bemused. At the use of the curative magics he pipes up, "If you two choose to keep healing yourselves neither will ever win, isn't that just as futile as losing?"
"What rush to find more thugs! I understand these few caught you somewhat unawares, but where are you rushing to? Who do you seek in particular, and how do you intend to confront them?"
Tying up the lycans and wannabe lycans, Blue adds in, "Yes, while we have given these fellows a good thumping, We must ensure the authorities have them first, and then consider if we are again prepared to take on others. I mean if we just left these brigands here, even tied up, why eventually they would get free and we'd have to find them again, and beat them, tie them up to let them escape, and let me just say, we are no such villains."
"They'll likely be watching this road, at least for their kin. However, I should suspect they'd be more surprised if we came from a different direction, and we may be able to simply sneak in then"
Blue muses silently in the corner after handing over the weapons he pulled from the Lucan, "That was some hit, knocked me down hard. Can't even recall how I got back up, doesn't even feel like I healed.". He then recalls Reawakening to see Lya casting magic on a Edward. And feels more assured in speaking up than a moment ago when he, by Calistria, could have sworn he was still knocked out.
"They should be bound tight enough, but as your new friends I should think their honor would be enough to keep them here."
A half elf man, who looks like Sgt Blue, but with a small goatee, is busy tying up several grots. All of a sudden he feels the wind brush his face as if it was preceded by a heavy mace. Staggered by the thought, he drops his rope, releasing two of the gretchen.
Sighing, he sends two bolts of mental energy into each of the fleeing creatures. Then finishes tying up the rest.
"There goes 200 Thalers..." he says, as he starts to drag his slaves behind.
Following Edward, Sgt Blue steps up to the handkerchief. Not pausin, he nods to the other man as he puts his hand on the cloth. Yanks it off. And jumps back five feet.
"Have any of us so called search and rescue training?" Sgt Blue asks the party as they head out the South Gate. "Of course, if not, we may get just as lost as the wayward boy, which in certain circumstances or variations of reality may in fact lead us to him directly, and quickly..." Then looking about the somewhat confused faces, and summarizes, "Search and Rescue?"
"Perhaps. But we are actually here about the Lady Lebeda's son, Lander. We Have heard he frequents this shop, which must indicate the quality of your wares, have you seen the lad?"
Blue feels the familiar feeling that something is left unasked and unanswered, and silently praises Calistria for keeping her secrets. Then addresses the group, "Shall we take our leave to this Three Tongs, first?"
"I too am considering your words on such targeted bandit attacks. Do your caravans bear your banner, and other markings, as is done in some places, or are they not so designated?"
"And when we meet your son, should our countenance as trustworthy Pathfinders not be sufficient to gain his trust, how can we show him we are sent by you?"
"Finally I must ask, if this form of fighting is so subversive, could it not be possible that he is choosing to learn it to gain the advantage over subversive forces in the future who might never expect that a supporter of the King would know their forms?"
The Galtian Half-Man seems tongue tied. His bags overflowing with papayas, and secrets. The fruits, though, have not provided the mysteries on the edge of reality as Calistria seemed to have promised him they would. Instead leaving Blue with a bit of an allergic reaction that has numbed his throat.
Sigríðr crosses her arms, "I thought the croc didn't exist for you. You didn't step on anything."
"You're right, it didn't really exist for me, though it did take up space, but it did exist for you and for you i stepped on it, at least that's how it happened in this reality. You see... " Blue appears to have a thought then let's it go with a shake of his head. After a pause, with a wave of his hand at Siggy he says, "I did not step on any crocodile, Siggy."
"I have to disagree, I had to step on him to regain my balance which clearly caused him to fall the rest of the way." Blue says, setting the record straight, "but thank you, for confirming my kill."
Oh right, I couldn't be falling, as falling would be something that doesn't actually exist... he thinks to himself as he steadies his heart beat and wipes the bit of sweat from his brow.
As a nihilist recognizing that the hit wasn't real Blue observes out loud, "That felt like it could have hurt more. Praise Calistria!" With that small shout-out to his goddess Blue takes another swing at the Trog.
"I hope this is the last one of these smelly beasts anywhere near by." Blue says as his blade pops into reality again. Then he rushes forward to slash through the spell caster, in hopes to disrupt his spell.
"Unless we have an interest in leaving enemies to our backs, let's check this room before going further up the stairs." Says Blue, moving towards the closed door.
But Andrew is a Pathfinder. Also don't think we ever opened that chest, just ran into the next combat as the one Trog moved us into this encounter when he entered the room.
"Balenar, was it? I would assume you would have standard Pathfinder issued equipment. Way finder, armor and weapons, letters from faction leaders, etc.?"
If I'm wrong:
"Because if so we opened this chest right back there and it's full of such things as a Pathfinder would normally carry."
Sgt. Blue runs up the stairs and past the trio of small allies. His customary psychic sword coming into reality as he approaches the range of the closest Trog!
Then with a smooth cut and thrust he attempts to vivisect the smelly monster-man.
"Yes your beard is there but it's a bit more uh... spotty than it used to be." Sgt. Blue says to the dwarf, and placing his hand on his shoulder "you may want to find a beard wig for the time being, I'm sure you dwarves have such a thing for your youngest and women folk."
"Yes... please do, open the door. I know that those Trogs, in the great scheme don't really exist, as Calistria has shown from beyond the veil of reality, but they have a pungent smell I'd like to escape." He concludes and walks beside Fhlangorn.
Appraise:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 "I find your appreciation of it to be incorrect! This "fire bird", thank you Krush, can't mean just anything. There is a great mystery behind this banner, and I'm sure our superiors would be very interested to find out what."
For a moment it would appear that the Galti man is stunned, when suddenly a bright blue longsword of energy appears. +1 Psyblade Weapon and he attacks the blue four legged creature.
Sgt Blue, a man of Galt, sits at the watering hole Pathfinder Wayfinder glinting boldly in the sun. He is holding in his hands a very ripe papaya, and beside him is a crate of the fruits; which by their smell are overly ripe, and by the sound... attracting some gigantic flies.
Oh Calistria, you tease, how can these teach me those tricks I asked you for. Wheels within wheels... perhaps if I roll it, it will unroll it's secrets...
As he rolls the fruit away it bumps the toe of Bert, the Dodo. When seeing his object rebound off the birds foot, he looks up. "Bert?" he gives the bird a quizical glance, "Ahhh! Master Dodo, how are you and your gnome friend?"
Player Name - Marc
Character Name - Sgt. Blue
PFS # 59990-9
Chronicle # 1
Starting XP - 0
Starting PP/Fame - 0
Starting gold - 69
Slow track? NO
Day job:Cr.(Clockwork):1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
... and turning on his heels Sgt. Blue reaches out to Davorin's shoulder shouting at him, "Get back, you're no good to us as an enemy. Let the princess's magic do the damage."
After that the Galtian man tumbles one 5' square away with the undead.
"Lya, it doesn't appear you will be able to reason with this one. I suppose it's time I show you all a secret..."
With that said, the Galtian man grows if anything more silent. Drops his new shield to the ground. Then a spear of pure energy suddenly appears in his hand. Swift act: Short Spear +1
Then with careful strides he moves up to the cold dwarf thing and takes a stab.
"I will take the shield. Davorin doesn't look like he needs another, and Logg doesn't look like he cares for them. The rest of you don't look like you have hidden strength to even lift one."
Hefting the shield up Blue creeps down the hall slowly. Move of 15'
