FYI wife got off work early due to snow... I have the day off tomorrow so I will get up a post.
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P.S. Roll Call!
Hey guys, I have been holding off moving this along, because I wanted to be sure that I would be home and not have to drop off the face of the earth again. I will work on an update and move us forward to the next round tomorrow.
Morning Guys, I had some things come up. Long story short.. I am back home and have access to the forums. Not sure how long it will last for, but while I am here no need to get e-mail updates. I'll let you guys know if things change.
Well my friends... I am going away on business. Unfortunately same as before I won't be able to access the fourms, and this will put the breaks on this game. Several kind GM's have offered to relay things via e-mail so I can continue on as a player, but I don't have that ability as a GM. It's not fair to you guys and when I started this game, I never intended for it to be this way. I am not giving up on this game or any other. I love the pbp's. That said, if Devinn wants to keep steam going during my absence he is welcome to take up the reins until I get back, its your call mate. You guys should have posts more often, and I will provide that, but not for a while, not till things settle down more. Thanks for understanding and hang tough in my absence. I will check in when I can. -Shadow
Your right it does!
As Devinn begins to move down the dark and foreboding stairwell, he thinks he feels some sort of slight reverberation on the stairs and a warm wash of air moving past his face and hair. Did I imagine that or was that real? Rethinking again that he had something more substantial than a dagger, Devinn deftly moves down the stairwell to the second deck. The landing seems abandoned to him, but he thinks he hears the familiar sound of Alastair's voice somewhere to his left, and decides to cautiously move in that direction. With a hand on the hilt of a dagger and another near his side, he angles himself to where he thinks he can peek around and see the Duchess's stateroom cabin at the bow of the ship. To his surprise he sees both Alastair and Rhegalion struggling with...something...that looks to be powdery and yet non-existent, though the pressure exuded by Alastair's arms suggests that it is quite real. Amusingly, Rhegalion himself seems to be covered in a sheen of sparkling dust which only adds to Devinn's early impressions of him. "Easy! Heavens! Whatcha got there? I came to offer a hand, though two might be more necessary in this case eh?"
Rhegalion reaches out to assist Alistair grab the invisible butler. His hands find the halfling's arms, even though he cannot see him, as if the limbs know where to go. He doesn't have a solid hold on him, but it should give Illyan something to deal with before trying to free himself from Alistair. He shouts to threaten him a bit, hoping to end this without being forced to kill him. "Surrender, or your mind is forfeit!" Nodding in recognition of Rhegalion's help, Alastair pushes the gnome butler to the floor, putting his full weight behind the maneuver and bringing the smaller man firstly to his knees and then lower, his face touching the floor, as the martial artist pins his prisoner's arms behind his back, wrists together. "Do we have any rope? Or I could just knock him unconscious," he addresses his aasimar companion.
"Alastair, you got him. If the two of you can manage him, I'm going to try to catch up to the others and Sorkana." Talyssa squeezes against the cold metal of the ship to get past Alastair and sets her hands and feet against the ladder. Just then, she feels the shudder from deep in the ship. Simultaneously, she feels a sense of pain and fear from Skimmer. She breathes, "What have they done?" Gripping the iron rungs tightly, Talyssa begins climbing down. Just as she sets foot on the Gunnery Deck, Skimmer comes winging out of the steam below to meet her. "Is it magic Skimmer or has she done something to the ship? Oh, you're hurt. Stay here, that's going to have to wait for later." She begins climbing down into the steam. Hissing in pain as scalding steam rockets out of the ships main boiler. Sorkana quickly takes a step back away from the imposing and furious Ifris Lanvaldan. Raising a hand the elf moves it in a series of quick gestures before five identical versions of her suddenly appear mirroring her actions among the fog. Shaking her head in frustration as to wolves bear down on her, she cries out in frustration. "You don't know what you're doing. All of this will lead to war. We build a ship and then they build a bigger ship. They raise an army and we raise a larger one. All the while the poor and destitute are impressed into the navies and the young forced into conscription in the armies, all under the banner of civic duty and national pride! When will it stop?!" The woman screams before tearing away the fabric of reality and in a single step bounding towards the boiler another ten feet. Ian curses to himself as he realizes the boiler is overheating. He chances a look up the ladder behind him and yells up at Talyssa all the while reloading his pistol with a new cartridge. ”Talyssa! Bring down one of the Firewards from the powder room! It’s getting dangerously hot down here!” Ian takes aim again and hopes his aim is true. Another loud report sounds from his pistol, but though the steam the man can see the shot miss by a hairs breath, heafting his large wrench the wounded saboteur continues to close on the the gunslinger. Hot steam floods the engineering deck, billowing clouds of white that conceal the fighting going on as the dangerous heat rises. Ifris Lanvaldan has no mind for engineering, no mind for the mechanical qualities of the ship, she has to pick her battles based on the skills she was trained with. Ifris Lanvaldan was trained to be a soldier, and a soldier fights no matter the adversity. In the haze of the steam, Sorkana can barely see her own hand in front of her, but she can hear the thundering of boots and the clatter-clank of commotion through the grating above. For all that the steam had provided her cover, it also deprived her of knowing where her adversaries are. She can hear her breathing steady in her ears, replays her speech imploring her side of things that fell on ears too deafened by Patriotism to truly understand their meaning. Through the fog, an amber glow sparks up, drawing Sorkana's attention away from that thought. Through the steam, Ifris' silhouette comes striding into view. The luminous plates of her mindborne armor shed a diffuse glow through the steam, giving her a warm fiery glow. Sweat slicks her brow, her hair is matted down to her head, glowing shield of light raised on approach. But as she moves, Ifris' right arm is down at her side, and from about elbow-level a golden spark begins to build. It courses down her forearm, then fans outward as if something were unfolding from her forearm. A three foot long blade of glowing amber light snaps into place, and Sorkana's eyes widen in a brief instant, reflecting that mindblade's glow as Ifris lunges in with the gleaming weapon. The soldier cuts through the fog, charges in and thrusts forward toward Sorkana. Ifris' shield goes wide, them sweeps around over Sorkana's right shoulder leaving the two locked together in brief entanglement. Nothing is said, no words exchanged, but Sorkana and Ifris' eyes meet as the amber glow of the first human psion's weapons glow upwards between them. Ifris isn't even sure if her mindblade hit home, all she can see and hear are the boarders attacking a ship years ago. Though her eyes have met Sorkana's, Ifris' do not see her; they only see the violent past. On the balls of his feet, Filby watches as Sorkana jumps away from Ifris and quickly manages to split her image into six separate forms. Impressive.. The asture man quietly says to himself before moving around her to cut off her escape. Sword cane already in hand, the inspector moves around though the scalding steam and tries cutting off the elven woman's escape with a quick but futile warding blow. Then, though the scalding steam and heat of the engineering space the two traitorous engineer's come barreling through hefting large spanner wrenches, more intended for the tightening of the massive cold forged iron bolts then splitting skulls, but impressive none the less. Along the port side the first man pushes his way in towards Ifris and swings at her with muscles that can only be built from long days of hard labor. But Ifris is no mere woman. She is the first known human psion, and hope for a greater future. As the large wrench comes down towards her with a sickening force, she easly deflects if with a casual sweep of her mind wrought shield. The second man, who has already been wounded by Ian's well placed shot, bellows and charges though the steam towards the naval officer. Again, luck is on the wolves side as the man, already wounded from the shoulder, brings the wrench towards Ian, but the man deftly jumps out of the way.
NPC Stats:
Back from a trip to visit family. If you have not yet posted, I will DMPC to get this game rolling again and move us to the next round. Expect a post on the morrow.
Alastair, Ifris and Filby are up!
Sure, I will do it in the discussion thread. If it did hit then we can leave your text as such. If it diden't then I will include it in the round recap.
Sorry mate =/ always next round.
Ian, due to the steam, there is a obscuring mist in effect, so there's a 50% miss chance at range. I can roll for you if you like
Hissing in pain as scalding steam rockets out of the ships main boiler. Sorkana quickly takes a step back away from the imposing and furious Ifris Lanvaldan. Raising a hand the elf moves it in a series of quick gestures before five identical versions of her suddenly appear mirroring her actions among the fog. Shaking her head in frustration as to wolves bear down on her, she cries out in frustration. You don't know what you're doing. All of this will lead to war. We build a ship and then they build a bigger ship. They raise an army and we raise a larger one. All the while the poor and destitute are impressed into the navies and the young forced into conscription in the armies, all under the banner of civic duty and national pride! When will it stop?! The woman screams before tearing away the fabric of reality and in a single step bounding towards the boiler another ten feet. ________________________________
So true Devinn!
Talyssa, your up!
Amid the clapping of the audience, the gently lapping of the waves and the playing of the band, Devinn slips into the superstructure of the ship. Blindly unaware the party continues on deck, the great and wealthy of Risur never knowing the threat the lurks below them. Silently the docker shakes his head and begins to make his way below.
Like something from a dream, Illyan, the murderous butler and servant to the King's sister slips from the shadows and moves haltingly towards Rhegalion. Only the briefest of outlines can be made out from his form, covered in powder but it is enough. Moving quickly, Alastair, the hand picked hand to hand expert and former scout of the Bridgeburners leaps forward and throws his arms around the halfling.
Amid the thundering of machinery the two engineers barrel forward. One takes a shot to the shoulder, clipping him and he cries out in pain, but manages to avoid taking the worst of the blow. Suddenly the a piercing shot of steam explodes outward from the central engine and the below deck the Wolves can feel a vibration under their deck as something within the furnace seems to shutter and shake. White scalding steam floods outward from the central furnace. And despite the already sweltering heat within the main engine space, it begins to rise noticeably.
NPC Stats:
Without hesitating the Archmage looks Devinn square in the face. The spell will last for some time and work despite the interference of metal or gold. Anything you think, both the King and I will know about immediately. As to your second question, the answer is yes. If things become dire I can break the teleportation ward that protects the exterior of the ship and teleport us off. Glancing back to the King, Minister Lee frowns slightly. Are you sure my lord? This is a terrible risk you are taking. Nodding again, this time more emphatically, the King seems to give almost a mental sigh. Yes Lee, i'm sure. The only way we are ever going to stop this escalation of violence is if we have the bravery to stand our ground. I'm tired of this cold war between us and Danor, tonight's announcement needs to happen. Its time for us to take a step forward. I'm sure this is the right thing to do. Glancing towards Devinn, the king frowns in the realization he may have just revealed part of himself to a man he knew nothing about. Go then lad and report back. I'm trusting you to get this done. Danor eh? Well then…righty-o…ahh…luck to you then! Devinn gives a last nod and moves away from the King and Principal Minister who now is receiving a series of final congratulations from the assembled nobles and notables of Risur. Unlike Lanvaldan, he has no intention of barreling through patrons and servants to get to the main wheelhouse and attracting undue attention to himself. The game has taken on an added twist, and in an odd way has placed a welcome challenge to the young Docker-turned-agent to excel in maintaining the illusion of bland civility to those topside while potential danger lurks below decks. After all, old King Aodhan didn’t just cut and run with Lee at the first sign of danger to his person. Nor was he blind to the potential danger to himself or others onboard. Devinn thought it was odd that Aodhan had no stronger reaction to the abduction of his sister, not anymore, though admittedly he couldn’t say that his sister was that close to him either, even if he knew where she had gone off to those years ago or even if she was still alive. Perhaps blood doesn’t hold true as much as my old great-aunty crone said it should…wait can they hear…blast! Focus! Devinn sees that the oval hatch door to the wheelhouse is ajar from where Lanvaldan ran through, and deftly steps over the metal hatch base and inside. He can hear the thrumming of the ship’s engines below him and some faint murmurings of naval officers up above him in the closed pilot house, but apparently the rest of the naval officers and contingent of marines are on out on deck. He is alone. The area leading to the stairwell down is darker than he expected, and suddenly Devinn gets an uneasy chill up his back as he realizes the game has taken a turn into something that could end his life. He pats himself down quickly to realize what he has on him. Where…no rapier…damn I left it with my bags…just daggers and leather and magic for me. Steady now…
In a near invisible stomping of deck plates and a ruffling of passing clothes, the powder covered Illyan pushes his way through the forward cabin and out of immediate view. Talyssa utters a satisfied "Got him!" as the powder bag explodes in a white cloud where she thought the butler had been, but she quickly loses sight of him in the ensuing commotion. "I've lost sight of him. Tell me if any of you spot him." Out of targets on the Second Deck, Talyssa turns her attention back to the puddle of grease she left on the deck below. Think I heard Ian down there. I'd better get rid of that mess if he's going to help us. She reaches back into her pack and draws out a second small bladder. Aiming for the same spot where she failed to catch Sorkana moments before, Talyssa squeezes out another spray of liquid that scatters to cover the deck below. "That should clear things up for you Ian, go get them." She spins back to the center of the ship and moves forward to the ladder to the next deck. Still blinking from the spell cast by Sarkona, Rhegalion feels the murderous butler pass by him. His invisibility is compromised by the powder thrown by the quick-thinking Talyssa. Rhegalion follows, watching the thumps of powder coming up off the ground. The spellcaster stops just past the doorway so that others can follow; he points his outstretched hands at the outline of the fleeing gnome. "Return!" He pushes out with the spirits under his control, seizing his mind and pulling him backwards to him. "Return to me!" With any luck, one of the others will be able to grab him so that they can determine what exactly is going on. Satisfied that the attempt to destroy the ship has failed, Inspector Filby checks his list of priorities. He sifts through a rapid inventory of facts and visuals before he hurriedly says "Ifris..Sorkana...Ifris". He looks at Reghalion with urgency. "Ifris is on her own. Sorkana will not be." The Inspector takes full advantage of his increased physical abilities, darting past Reghalion and bracing himself for a quick descent down the chute. Hearing Rhegalion's command, Alastair turns his head towards where Ilyan ran off to, his eyes scanning the area and trying to pinpoint the gnome's position. Moving towards the aasimar, the martial artist stands ready to grab hold of the butler as soon as he heeds his comrade's magical command.
Despite Ian's fears that the fire-spren was attempting to destroy the powder kegs, his education and training suddenly kick into gear and he remembers that each of the three powder rooms are warded with a fire-ward to protect them from accidental explosions. Just as he things this however, he feels a sudden increase in temperature from the starboard powder room as the fire-ward is disabled. Peeking his head though the door, the man watches as the spren, shifting in hues of reds, oranges and gassy blues, clutches a silver filigree charm in its claws. The spren hisses and sputters as the charm causes its claws to smoke with the trapped essence of ice. Seeming to ignore the pain, the spren takes a single hop and then a flap and throws itself out of the starboard porthole and into the water below with a muted splash. Ian watches incredulously as the Sprite sacrifices itself in the water. Hearing the exchange on the deck below, Ian rushes to Ifris’ aid. He moves to the port ladder on this deck and slides down to the Engineering deck. When his boots hit the deck, he takes a step towards the hallway to cover Ifris’ back.
Clutching her side painfully and enwrapped by ectoplasmic arms of spiritual rage, Sorkana hisses. The plan was not going well. Biting down on her frustration, the woman shifts forward ten feet while yelling toward the two massive engineers. Larks, Jenks get over here and cover me! Despite the muted echos and the faint sounds of the band playing on deck Ifris can hear yells of acquiescence from the two burly men as they heft massive wrenches and with the pounding of feet on steel deck plates move towards the elven woman to cover her escape.
The shield impacts Sorkana soundly with a sonorous hum and faint crystalline cracking sound as a flash of light. A shower of sparks erupts from the conjured shield on impact, glittering down to the flooring. With a flick of her head to the side, Ifris looks back to the two men approaching from before before turning her attention back to Sorkana. "Call off your dogs and surrender!" Seeing his target disappear from where he just dropped the spikes, Skimmer circles around to where the woman has reappeared a few feet away. Knowing only that its mistress must want her stopped for some reason, it suddenly dives at Sorkana, jaws of metallic teeth held wide open to snap shut on contact. Unfortunately, the creature has misjudged her location and the jaws close with a loud clang inches from her shoulder. As Ian reached the final deck, he can see one of the Engineers running towards him with a huge wrench in his hands. ”Stop or I’ll shoot!” yells Ian. The burly Saboteur ignores his command and continues his charge. Ok, you asked for it scumbag. Ian squeezes the trigger unleashing another bullet. The explosion is deafening and the flame and smoke discharge partially obscures the hallway for a few heartbeats. It quickly clears and Ian can see that he hit the mark. The man has a large wound on his right arm but is still charging. Ian starts to reach for another cartridge and glances over at his brilliantly lit comrade standing over the prone form of Sorkana. Filby braces his feet on either side of the rails as he descends rapidly. As he nears the bottom floor of the Coaltongue, he hears voices rising in pitch. Ifris. He pulls his left foot inside the rails and begins tapping the rungs to slow his descent. He let's go just a few rungs from the bottom and lands on the balls of his feet. His mind has already plotted his next course of action. As he turns to face Ifris and any oncoming threats, he drops his left hand to his side and thumbs the cap off a single potion bottle.
So Thanksgiving has come and gone, but I wanted to tell you all that I am thankful to be apart of such a great pbp. I only found this style of gaming last year, and my first few games were so so at best. But the collaboration between players is so wonderful here. I very much enjoy it and want you all to know that. Cel
Talyssa and Alastair are up!
@Filby: I think that Devinn gave a good recap, and we are waiting on Talyssa, Alastair and Filby. As far as movement goes, You could climb down the the engineering deck, or the gunnery deck if you like. There are ladders located at AE12 and AE15 that go all of the way down and due to the deck height of 10 feet, moving down a level takes 10 feet of movement. At this point, vision is not a problem, the lower deck of the ship has grating that allows viewing from below your feet and above you. However things may change later that would cause sight issues, for now its clear though. I hope everyone had a good thanksgiving! Let me know if you have any other questions.
Good Suggestion Devinn, I will try that next post and see if it helps.
Without hesitating the Archmage looks Devinn square in the face. The spell will last for some time and work despite the interference of metal or gold. Anything you think, both the King and I will know about immediately. As to your second question, the answer is yes. If things become dire I can break the teleportation ward that protects the exterior of the ship and teleport us off. Glancing back to the King, Minister Lee frowns slightly. Are you sure my lord? This is a terrible risk you are taking. Nodding again, this time more emphatically, the King seems to give almost a mental sigh. Yes Lee, i'm sure. The only way we are ever going to stop this escalation of violence is if we have the bravery to stand our ground. I'm tired of this cold war between us and Danor, tonight's announcement needs to happen. Its time for us to take a step forward. I'm sure this is the right thing to do. Glancing towards Devinn, the king frowns in the realization he may have just revealed part of himself to a man he knew nothing about. Go then lad and report back. I'm trusting you to get this done.
In a near invisible stomping of deck plates and a ruffling of passing clothes, the powder covered Illyan pushes his way through the forward cabin and out of immediate view.
Despite Ian's fears that the fire-spren was attempting to destroy the powder kegs, his education and training suddenly kick into gear and he remembers that each of the three powder rooms are warded with a fire-ward to protect them from accidental explosions. Just as he things this however, he feels a sudden increase in temperature from the starboard powder room as the fire-ward is disabled. Peeking his head though the door, the man watches as the spren, shifting in hues of reds, oranges and gassy blues, clutches a silver filigree charm in its claws. The spren hisses and sputters as the charm causes its claws to smoke with the trapped essence of ice. Seeming to ignore the pain, the spren takes a single hop and then a flap and throws itself out of the starboard porthole and into the water below with a muted splash.
Clutching her side painfully and enwrapped by ectoplasmic arms of spiritual rage, Sorkana hisses. The plan was not going well. Biting down on her frustration, the woman shifts forward ten feet while yelling toward the two massive engineers. Larks, Jenks get over here and cover me! Despite the muted echos and the faint sounds of the band playing on deck Ifris can hear yells of acquiescence from the two burly men as they heft massive wrenches and with the pounding of feet on steel deck plates move towards the elven woman to cover her escape.
Initiative:
Init Alastair Rayne: 1d20 + 3 > (12) + 3 = 15 Init Rhegalion Arbalistre: 1d20 > 20 Init Talyssa Dane: 1d20 + 9 > (11) + 9 = 20 Init Ifris Lanvaldan: 1d20 + 2 > (13) + 2 = 15 Init Inspector Reginald Filby: 1d20 + 2 > (2) + 2 = 4 Init Devinn LeMont: 1d20 + 2 > (11) + 3 = 14 Init Fire Sprites: 1d20 > 14 Init Illyan the Butler: 1d20 + 3 > (18) + 3 = 21 Init Sorkana: 1d20 + 6 > (13) + 6 = 19 Init Engineer Saboteurs: 1d20 > 4 NPC Stats:
Fire Sprites (1) hp 4/4; AC 12/11T/12FF; CMD 9 (17 vs trip) +2F/+0R/+0W; Immune to Fire Illyan the Butler hp 18/18; AC 14/13T/11FF; CMD 14 +2F/+6R/+0W (Invisible but located with 50% miss and incurs no attacks of opportunity) Sorkana hp 23/23; AC 16/16T/14FF; CMD 13 +2F/+3R/+4W (+2 vs Enchantment)(Grappled)
I was considering that, yes
I'm considering a idea where I roll all of the groups Init and take the average vs opponents Init and take the average to determine actions, thought?
Silently Minister Lee steps forward and raises a hand, but Devinn gets the distinct impression that the Archmage heard every word despite being several paces away and nearly being overwhelmed by the loud bombastic bellows of the royal naval band. Waving a hand quietly towards the pair in a gesture that could almost but not quite be a greeting if one did not know what to properly look for, Devinn can suddenly hear the Archmage's voice inside of his head accompanied by the gruffer voice of the Kings. Lee announces to the crowd again, waving his hand. It's truly amazing how time seems to sneak up upon ones self, I nearly forgot today was such a special day. However as the Minister continues to talk the voice is overlayed with a much cooler and far more collected voice. Forgive me, but this will be the fastest way young man. My lord, you can hear me? Silently the king nods. Good, if what you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt it, then we must be wary. Glancing off the ship, the elderly man frowns. He could see the escort of frigates in the distance as well as the coastline. I know what you wanted to announce tonight Sire, do you wish for us to continue and hope that our team can deal with the threat or evacuate the ship? Old eyes studying the young man, King Aodhan frowns pensvily. The man was a warrior that much was clear and not scared, rather what he had planned must have been important enough that he did not wish to risk upsetting his carefully laid plans. Eyes boring in on Devin, the King raised an eyebrow. What do you think young man? Can your team handle it or do we evacuate? You would know their capabilities better than anyone else here. Before tonight, Devinn had never really thought much of 'old' King Aodhan - he assumed the King was just another fool who thought too much of himself and his privileged lot in life, bound up in arrogance, greed and petty politics that marked so many of his sycophants such as those Devinn himself marked from the North Shore. That the King was some "war hero" of a bygone age and had supposedly come up from meaner streets meant little to Devinn; just some bit of embellishment or even outright fiction to give him pseudo-status with the masses of Risuri that he ruled. While Devinn had his own reasons for joining the R.H.C. and subjecting himself to its endless array of pompous boredoms and rules-mongering, serving at the King's whim was not one of them. Reciting the required Risuri anthem and pronouncing platitudes of allegiance was just one more game to play to pass the time. Yet, both earlier tonight when he overheard Aodhan's heavy words to his admirals, and now in the moment when those piercing eyes bored into his own, Devinn realized there was something more to this old man he called King, more than just the title and robes at least. Perhaps that was enough. Devinn gives a slight eyebrow shrug of his own and gives his liege a rare glimpse of honesty, free from the trappings of words thanks to Minster Lee's spell. I just have to think this...back...wondrous! Well Aod...aaa my King Sire sir...I don't know for certain...I'm not sure what would be bold enough to take the risk of death to threaten you or your sister this way. My mates could be dead already...but... Devinn genuinely smiles to the King and takes a step back from him and from Principal Minister Lee, bowing with all sincerity to give them full attention of the audience. ...well Sire, I'm a believer that the show must shine on even under duress or difficulty. So let's give your show a go, and I'll do whatever I can to see it through for you. As long as you have Lee close by, I'll go below and find out what's happening. Deal?
Devinn's voice clearly rings out as he claps and starts the cheer for the Principal Minister, even as he slides back some more to dash off for the wheelhouse's stairwell as soon as the moment allows it. Something catches him short, however, as he realizes something that would put an end to his hasty plan. Ahhh Minister Lee sir, can you hear me if I go below decks with all this metal? And if I get down there and find out we're about to go down in mere moments, can you get the King off in time?
Surrounded and nearly alone, Illyan, glances towards the firesprite who seconds before turned on its kin and delivered a clawing blow that ripped away its essence. He can see the saunched blood trickling down from Anya's throat and knows that in a few moments he is about to be overwhelmed. Seeing no other option, the "butler" quickly attempts to step out of the reach of Alastair with a dive to the left, but not before the quick man catches his movement and instead shifts towards the man and lashes out with a kick that barely misses. Glancing towards the three others that are gathered in the hall, the butler throws out his arm and suddenly with the wrenching of gears and a muted snap! a bottle appears in his hand. Well mates, sorry just following orders. He mutters before uncorking the bottle and drinking the fluid in a single gulp. Then as quickly as he was there, the man disappears from the room. Rhegalion opens his eyes, freeing his sight from the draw of the spirit world. He cannot see because his vision is still clouded from the spell. He opens and shuts them continually until the glowing motes fade from his vision. When his sight returns to him, he looks around but doesn't see the butler whose mind he earlier commandeered. Talyssa watches powerless as Sorkana manages to keep her footing in spite of the grease, then barely covers her eyes in time to avoid the retaliatory spell. "Nice trick. Something like my color dazzler. I'll have to see about replicating that one." Seeing Sorkana shift between the decks again she calls. "Go slow her down with your spikes Skimmer. I'm going to keep helping up here." Talyssa reaches back into her pack and pulls out a packet of powder. "No playing hide and seek with us Mr. Butler. I'd rather that Filby and Alastair be able to see where you are." She leans into the doorframe and tosses the powder past Filby to the spot she last saw the halfling. With the push and words of encouragement from Talyssa, Skimmer flaps his wings with a slight grind of metal on metal and whir of gears. Airborne the construct wings past the corner and sails down the ladder to the Gunnery Deck only to see the woman Talyssa has commanded it to shift herself to the next deck.
Hissing and sputtering the fire-spren heads towards the fireward on the starboard side of the gunnery deck. In the gloom of the cabin it hisses and gibbers to itself in its fiery tongue, eyeing the casts of black power for the ships massive guns. Ian curses under his breath. How the hell did I miss? He is already pulling a cartridge out of his belt pouch as he sees Ifris bolt down to the next level. Finishing the action he steps across the hall to the opposite room and peeks in. His eyes open wide as he realizes the fire sprite is trying to ignite the powder kegs. ”Rails!...Rails!...The furnace is down there! She must be trying to blow up the ship!” If I survive this, I’ve got to get me a pepperbox!
Landing carefully on the bottom deck of the R.N.S. Coaltongue Sorkana, clutches the red gem tightly in her hands. The furnace, that was her goal. Or at least the next step in it. Launching herself to her feet, she rushes through the red lit interior of the massive engineering bay. The waves of heat from the steam boiler, roll through the space making the air nearly too painful to remain in. Rushing along the side of the massive boiler and towards the cage where the fire-gems are heaped as fuel, she points to two rough men in the uniform of engineers. Go! Guard the railings down! She shouts pointing. They are on their way down. Gruffly nodding the men heft massive spanner wrenches and position themselves near the ladder leading from the Gunnery Deck to the Engineering Deck, determined look on their faces. Leaping and bounding, Sorkana accelerates using her teleportation magic to bound forward another ten feet. The cage entrance is nearly in sight when suddenly the ghost of Wilson, clawed from his path towards the Bleak Gate, rises like a furious phantom, screaming out half maddening cries of rage at his untimely death. Ethereal arms grasping outward, the spirit, claws the woman to the deck, pinning her in place with the force of its rage as ectoplasm streams off it like white motes, surrounded by black light. Wheeling back to the ladder, Skimmer swoops down to the Engineering deck and wings through the opening toward the crates where he sees the woman struggling with the ghostly shape of a young ensign. The metallic bird-like construct continues and looping right over the pair, drops a package of sharp spikes right onto the ship's deck beneath Sorkana. Seeing Sorkana vanish again, Ifris lets out a sharp hiss, spotting the fiery creature that heads into another room, but woefully unaware that it is the powder stores. Leaving what she mistakenly perceives as an insignificant threat behind, the armored psion springs backwards, leaps to the side and grabs one of the ladder rails, sliding down to the bottom deck of the ship below. Ifris lands with a shower of sparks from the amber plates of light around her feet. Dashing out into the doorway, she spots Sorkana near the front of the ship entangled with some sort of vengeful ghost and lets out a frustrated snarl. Ifris springs forward, leaping through the air with her glowing shield drawn backwards and ready to strike as she comes careening down towards Sorkana with a riotous yell, "I said " As the shield connects with Sorkana's right side, she gives a grunt of pain and seems to double over. Despite the pain, she looks past the armored woman, and tried to focus on the furnace ahead of her.
Initiative:
Init Alastair Rayne: 1d20 + 3 > (12) + 3 = 15 Init Rhegalion Arbalistre: 1d20 > 20 Init Talyssa Dane: 1d20 + 9 > (11) + 9 = 20 Init Ifris Lanvaldan: 1d20 + 2 > (13) + 2 = 15 Init Inspector Reginald Filby: 1d20 + 2 > (2) + 2 = 4 Init Devinn LeMont: 1d20 + 2 > (11) + 3 = 14 Init Fire Sprites: 1d20 > 14 Init Illyan the Butler: 1d20 + 3 > (18) + 3 = 21 Init Sorkana: 1d20 + 6 > (13) + 6 = 19 Init Engineer Saboteurs: 1d20 > 4 NPC Stats:
Fire Sprites (1) hp 4/4; AC 12/11T/12FF; CMD 9 (17 vs trip) +2F/+0R/+0W; Immune to Fire Illyan the Butler hp 18/18; AC 14/13T/11FF; CMD 14 +2F/+6R/+0W (Invisible but located with 50% miss and incurs no attacks of opportunity) Sorkana hp 23/23; AC 16/16T/14FF; CMD 13 +2F/+3R/+4W (+2 vs Enchantment)(Grappled) Engineer Saboteurs (2) (U32/Q32): hp 19/19; AC 13/10T/13FF; CMD 12 +1F/+0R/+3W
Glad you caught it! Working on the next round.
I messaged Steve today on Facebook, either way I'll do a round recap tonight after my wife goes to bed. I don't want us to lose too much steam.
So I don't see anything from Steven tonight, I'll DMPC him and move us to the next round.
Thanks Ian! Filby, what do you think of the Investigator? Awesome class!
By the way, with the advanced class guide comming out, Filby wants to try one of the new classes, and I think that is the reason why he has not posted for this round. Its only him and Devinn remaining for round 36.
@Talyssa: Excellent move with the powder! I spent some time reviewing the rules and this is what I found regarding it. "From D20pfsrd
Source Advanced Player's Guide Powdered chalk, flour, and similar materials are popular with adventurers for their utility in pinpointing invisible creatures. Throwing a bag of powder into a square is an attack against AC 5, and momentarily reveals if there is an invisible creature there. A much more effective method is to spread powder on a surface (which takes 1 full round) and look for footprints." "If a character tries to attack an invisible creature whose location he has pinpointed, he attacks normally, but the invisible creature still benefits from full concealment (and thus a 50% miss chance). A particularly large and slow invisible creature might get a smaller miss chance." "Total Concealment: If you have line of effect to a target but not line of sight, he is considered to have total concealment from you. You can't attack an opponent that has total concealment, though you can attack into a square that you think he occupies. A successful attack into a square occupied by an enemy with total concealment has a 50% miss chance (instead of the normal 20% miss chance for an opponent with concealment). You can't execute an attack of opportunity against an opponent with total concealment, even if you know what square or squares the opponent occupies." Ok, so based on the three rules, this is what I believe happens, and if I am getting it wrong, someone chime in. The "Butler's" position has now been identified and "pinpointed". As such anyone else can now target him but he benefits from full concealment and a 50% miss chance. Because he has full concealment he is however immune to AoO's and could attempt to stealth next turn in order to hide. Does that seem fair?
Talyssa, I have no issue with Skimmer flying. Use the same initiative for him. He moves at a fly speed of 40' so that will give you some options.
@All: With the advanced class guide comming out soon, if anyone wishes to switch classes to something during the playtest, let me know.
Silently Minister Lee steps forward and raises a hand, but Devinn gets the distinct impression that the Archmage heard every word despite being several paces away and nearly being overwhelmed by the loud bombastic bellows of the royal naval band. Waving a hand quietly towards the pair in a gesture that could almost but not quite be a greeting if one did not know what to properly look for, Devinn can suddenly hear the Archmage's voice inside of his head accompanied by the gruffer voice of the Kings. Lee announces to the crowd again, waving his hand. However as the Minister continues to talk the voice is overlayed with a much cooler and far more collected voice. Forgive me, but this will be the fastest way young man. My lord, you can hear me? Silently the king nods. Good, if what you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt it, then we must be wary. Glancing off the ship, the elderly man frowns. He could see the escort of frigates in the distance as well as the coastline. I know what you wanted to announce tonight Sire, do you wish for us to continue and hope that our team can deal with the threat or evacuate the ship? Old eyes studying the young man, King Aodhan frowns pensvily. The man was a warrior that much was clear and not scared, rather what he had planned must have been important enough that he did not wish to risk upsetting his carefully laid plans. Eyes boring in on Devin, the King raised an eyebrow. What do you think young man? Can your team handle it or do we evacuate? You would know their capabilities better than anyone else here.
Surrounded and nearly alone, Illyan, glances towards the firesprite who seconds before turned on its kin and delivered a clawing blow that ripped away its essence. He can see the saunched blood trickling down from Anya's throat and knows that in a few moments he is about to be overwhelmed. Seeing no other option, the "butler" quickly attempts to step out of the reach of Alastair with a dive to the left, but not before the quick man catches his movement and instead shifts towards the man and lashes out with a kick that barely misses. Glancing towards the three others that are gathered in the hall, the butler throws out his arm and suddenly with the wrenching of gears and a muted snap! a bottle appears in his hand. Well mates, sorry just following orders. He mutters before uncorking the bottle and drinking the fluid in a single gulp. Then as quickly as he was there, the man disappears from the room.
Hissing and sputtering the fire-spren heads towards the fireward on the starboard side of the gunnery deck. In the gloom of the cabin it hisses and gibbers to itself in its fiery tongue, eyeing the casts of black power for the ships massive guns.
Landing carefully on the bottom deck of the R.N.S. Coaltongue Sorkana, clutches the red gem tightly in her hands. The furnace, that was her goal. Or at least the next step in it. Launching herself to her feet, she rushes through the red lit interior of the massive engineering bay. The waves of heat from the steam boiler, roll through the space making the air nearly too painful to remain in. Rushing along the side of the massive boiler and towards the cage where the fire-gems are heaped as fuel, she points to two rough men in the uniform of engineers. Go! Guard the railings down! She shouts pointing. They are on their way down. Gruffly nodding the men heft massive spanner wrenches and position themselves near the ladder leading from the Gunnery Deck to the Engineering Deck, determined look on their faces. Leaping and bounding, Sorkana accelerates using her teleportation magic to bound forward another ten feet. The cage entrance is nearly in sight when suddenly the ghost of Wilson, clawed from his path towards the Bleak Gate, rises like a furious phantom, screaming out half maddening cries of rage at his untimely death. Ethereal arms grasping outward, the spirit, claws the woman to the deck, pinning her in place with the force of its rage as ectoplasm streams off it like white motes, surrounded by black light.
____________________________________
Initiative:
Init Alastair Rayne: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
NPC Stats:
Fire Sprites (2) (AJ24/AJ14): hp 4/4; AC 12/11T/12FF; CMD 9 (17 vs trip) +2F/+0R/+0W; Immune to Fire Illyan the Butler: hp 18/18; AC 14/13T/11FF; CMD 14 +2F/+6R/+0W Sorkana: hp 23/23; AC 16/16T/14FF; CMD 13 +2F/+3R/+4W (+2 vs Enchantment) Engineer Saboteurs (2) (U32/Q32): hp 19/19; AC 13/10T/13FF; CMD 12 +1F/+0R/+3W
@Barcas: "The rules for Unfinished Business don't seem clear as to the capabilities of the spirits that he can summon. It just says that the spirit can attack, but gives no stats for it." You're right the rules aren't clear but I did some digging and this is what I came up with. The ability Unfinished Business uses the stats for the creature that was killed for the purpose of BAB, CMD/CMB and the like. For instance if the creature was a spellcaster, the ghost could cast a spell. If it was a fighter it could make an attack. It is limited to a single standard action, so, while the creature might grapple Sorkana, after one round it fades from existence. I think it is still a very powerful ability. In the case of the spirit it is a level 2 warrior with the NPC stat array found here: City Guard
We visited Kauai, it was very nice... But I'm happy to be a back.
I can make a post tomorrow for the opening to round 36. I just got back home.
I'm reading adventure six right now, man it's great. It could be years before we get to it... But I have to say. This is an amazing AP
Ah that's right Barcas, I'll say between the sneak attack and normal damage the sprite is dead.
On vacation and typed that up on a nexus 7. Thanks for your patience. I'll see about opening a post for the next round tomorrow.
Eyes growing hard, the elderly king and the archemage study the former Docker intently. Blinking softly, the King frowns and seems to grow thoughtful. Despite the aged exterior of the man, there is clearly a profound level of intelligence and wisdom behind the mans eyes. Stepping in close to the wolf, the King whispers near so that only Devin can hear. "Young man, I don't know what your upto, but it had better be good." Frowning again, the King wipes the frown off his face and instead forces a smile. Inwardly Devinn breathed in a sigh of relief. It seemed lucky was on his side today. Hesitantly the Archemage steps forward and raises a hand to the crowd while the band quickly shifts gears breaking into a birthing day song. Devinn smiles enthusiastically and bobs his head up and down wholeheartedly to King Aodhan, as if fully engrossed in the celebratory outpouring of congratulations to his own Principal Minister through song. Devinn's hands continue to rise and fall to the lyrics of the music, encouraging all eyes upon him to take up the words as if it were the most important matter in all of Risur.
As the discordant chorus of voices grows louder and more confident with the unannounced and unexpected birthday tidings, following along to the words of the last stanza, a perspiring Devinn leans over to the King even as his arms wave along to the cadence of the tune and whispers to him while keeping that faux smile fixed upon his face. "You're in danger, Your Majesty. Your sister was just taken by some beast or creature of the sea mere moments ago, and if something can do that then you're either next or the ship itself is. My team's below right now, but I had to get you off that podium. Now nod like I'm saying something you approve and draw eyes over to you if you please..." With the band finishing the song in a rousing finish that starts a round of cheers and applause for the Principal Minister, Devinn nods in fake acknowledgment of the King's pretend praise to him, clapping his hands over his head in encouragement and taking a step slightly away from His Majesty to give him more room. Shifting his stance to show the front of his body directly towards Lee and not towards Aodhan, Devinn spins his whisperspeak incantation while the cheers and applause covers his words. Please please please see what I'm casting Lee and don't blast me to cinders ... I was having such a good day today too!"
With only seconds left Illyan seems to struggle against the hold of the spell, it is likely that in moment he will be able to regain his control. Despite his body being locked rigid, his eyes are wide and seem to survey the room... Behind the others, Rhegalion can almost read the mans thoughts. Flee or Fight...[/i]" it is the most basic of animal instincts. Rhegalion probes through the gnome's mind, coldly letting the butler's emotions wash over him. As the diminutive man's limbs begin to respond again, Rhegalion pushes further into his mind. He directs the spirits at his command to delve further into his mind, to redirect Illyan's attention. If he is to choose fight over flight, at least he will be assisting them in dispatching the elemental creatures. He feels the chill of the spirits as they bore over Illyan's will, maintaining Rhegalion's control over him. With Anya's condition stabilized, at least for now, Alastair turns his attention to the firey creature right next to him. As soon as he faces the sprite, he strikes at it with a left jab followed quickly by a right cross, both punches connecting solidly. The moment offers an overwhelming number of stimuli for Filby to process. Most of the time, he absorbed shifting details in seconds, processing their significance, arranging them in groups of likelihoods, and drawing conclusions with boredom. But the mutagenic potion enlarged his muscles and flooded his body with violent energy. Still brilliant by most measures, he feels himself a step behind. The Duchess' betrayal, the infamous sea witch, whatever she is, and her monstrous conveyance. The failed standoff and Sorkana's attempt to escape, every detail flashes through his mind, but some are pushed back in his sudden need to act. So act he does. Filby bends his knees, a conscious effort to make a little room as he brings his left arm up and pulls the top of his cane with it. A thin steel blade slides out of the cane, revealed now as a clever scabbard. Filby looks down to the squat fire creature and grimaces as he brings his arm down in a slashing motion. The summoned monster ducks warily and barks out a puff of gray smoke towards the Inspector. None plussed, Filby twists the blade to the side and lunges. The Inspector narrows his eyes, searching for details that will improve his tactics. Flammable and close quarters mean no bombs. The grate makes pursuit of the Duchess' accomplice impossible. His training with the sword cane was mediocre at best. Filby looks out the window, trying to discern whether the sea monster is still visible outside. He looks at the burning menace before him again and mutters and oath. Talyssa grabs her pack again, pulling back the flap. She reaches inside, pulling out a small bladder with a brass nozzle covered with a wooden cap. With a flick of her thumb, she pops off the cap which drops clattering to the metal grate before finding on opening and dropping through to the next deck. The raven-headed woman lowers the bladder to the floor and squeezes it violently sending a spray of a yellowish liquid through the grate toward Sorkana's feet. "Maybe I can slow her down from wherever she's trying to get to." Without waiting to see if her plan has worked, Talyssa gives Skimmer a little push and points at the woman. "Bombard her Skimmer." With a scrape of metal on metal, the ungainly construct begins to flap toward the lower deck. Hissing flames and gibbering whispered threats of burned mutilation the two remaining fire spren close on the gathered Wolves. One with claws of molten flame dashes forward exuding heat and bites at the austere Inspector. Dodging, Filby feels the bite tear into his coat ripping a long furrow down the side. The second of the two Spren suddenly backs away claws creating waves of heat as they lash out at the form of Alistair who seconds before pummeled it's kin back into the world from which it came. As before however the creature finds no opening in the hand to hand specialists defenses. Howling in rage the Spren crackles in the gloomy interior of the cabin. As the flickering light streams off its body it illuminates the crouching form of the Butler who having shaken off the halfhearted whispers of those from the Bleak Gate grip a short sword tightly. Waiting as Alistair turns his attention away the butler drives the sword forward but at the last moment fails to strike as the former scout whirls and dives to the right. Suddenly the grated floor that several of the Wolves stand upon erupt into a cloud of sparkling motes of energy. Averting their eyes Filby and Talyssa manage to keep from being startled but Rhaegleon with his far away stare that seems to see beyond the waking world is not so lucky. Stumbling the elf claws at his eyes and shakes his head. Meanwhile from below the grate Sokana smirks and shakes her head. She couldn't allow anything to interrupt her orders.
Groaning to himself, Ian Smithe clutches at his head. The last thing he remember was being offered a drink by one of the other engineers before everything went hazy. Slowly he pushes himself to his feet he feels around the room. He was in one of the powder rooms. By the curve of the hull it looked like it was on the port side. What in gods happened? His mouth feels dry and parched. His vision seems to swim momentarily. He has to restrain the urge to vomit. Suddenly, everything seems to come into focus. Ian Smith... Engineer... Ensign of the Risur Royal Navy... Veteran of the Last War... Putting a hand on a bulkhead, he steadies himself before he looks up sharply. Above him he can hear some sort of commotion and outside he can hear the syballant hissing of some sort of odd tongue being spoken. Where the hell was the gunners mate that was supposed to be assigned to the powder room? Glancing around sees a pair of booted feet hidden behind several barrels. They don't seem to be moving. "Dammit.. this is bad." Patting himself down, he nods to himself. He still had his pistol and boarding axe. Well that's a start. The stern reminder of pain draws Ifris out of her blind fury with a snarl and a hiss. Pain allows her to see the battlefield more clearly, see the heat-haze of the fiery creatures wheeling through the air, see the blood from Anya's slashed throat dripping through the grating, see the figure below that the blood is nearly falling upon. Unarmed and unarmored, Ifris would be a fool to rush headlong into a confrontation with an unknown assailant. Ifris Lanvaldan is no fool. The others can see the connection made, can see those sharp eyes spot Sorkana through the grating in the process of attempting to summon more assistance. Ifris arrests her forward movement, boots sliding across metal before she throws herself in the opposite direction. One hand pushes Talyssa aside, and with as much quickness as she'd come rushing into the battle, Ifris heads back the way she'd come. Storming across the deck, those amber colored lights swirl around Ifris' hands again as she charges the ladder hole that cuts between the decks. The agile soldier springs into the air, leaping to the opening in the floor as the last thing her comrades see is a haze of amber colored flecks of light beginning to swirl around her body. Focus from pain reinforces Ifris' ability to channel the power she has become famous for, and those points of light soon solidify into something else entirely. Plates of force the color of sunlight on a summer afternoon begin to form inches off of her body. Segmented plates over her arms, angular pauldrons, a curved chestplate with segmented abdominal guards, greaves resembling the armored plates of some giant insect -- both oragnic and inorganic in appearance. As Ifris hits the floor of the gunnery deck with all the force of a dropping stone, diamond-shaped shield composed of multiple plates of golden light forms in her hand and slams into the floor with a shower of sparks as the soldier lands in crouched posture. She looks up quickly, black hair falling down to frame her face as pieces of a golden helmet of light snap into place around her head, leaving a chevron-shaped space where her eyes and the bridge of her nose can be clearly seen. " Ifris demands of Sorkana, her voice reverberating through the energy of the semi-opaque helmet. In her mind, Ifris knew she was the first human psion, that this title carried with it prestige. But to her, it was time to earn the respect that title entailed the only way she knew how. "Battle." Ian steadies himself between the bulkhead and one of the powder kegs. Do I hear ‘for he's a jolly good fellow'? What the hell?.. There is, in fact, a hollow ringing throughout the ship of a poorly sung rendition of the song. He works his jaw back and forth, up and down. It's sore, so he must have hit one of the kegs when he passed out from whatever he was given. He looks around the barrels to see who belongs to those boots and instantly regrets the decision. A young ensign lies motionless on the deck, a thick white foam around his mouth. His unseeing eyes stare at the bulkhead. Rest in peace Wilson." Ian is about to close Wilson's eyes just as he starts to hear chanting of some sort outside the door. This really can't be good He pulls his sidearm and cracks the door expecting some horror on the other side. To his surprise he sees a beautiful high elf woman but the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he hears her arcane casting. He hears a familiar voice shout out from his right outside the powder room. That's one of Talyssa's friends from the RHC! What was her name? Rails? No, that can't be right." The high elf turns in mid-cast. Her eyes widen when she sees the RHC officer. Ian, first unsure how to act, instantly decides he can't let that woman, however lovely, finish that spell. He opens the door fully, takes aim and fires, his pistol at point blank range. Somehow at the last instant, Sorkana glimpses Ian out of the corner of her eye and manages to avoid the shot. Eyes narrowing Sokana glances towards Ian and the to her right down the hallway where Ifris now armed and armored is preparing to charge. As oil is squeeze down on top of her she almost stumbles but manages to complete her spell. Summoning into existence another fire sprite she points to one of the three powder rooms and hisses instructions towards it. Still covered in grease the elven woman glances above her towards the Wolves who are locked in combat with Illyan and her minions. Smiling to herself she mutters an invocation calling into existence a burst of sparkling motes of glittering dust. Turning back the woman sees Ifris. Raising a hand in the universal motion of a parry the woman kneels and then Shifts dropping down to the engineering deck. Glancing at the ship's boiler she clutches the red gem in her hand tightly. ______________________________
Initiative:
Init Alastair Rayne: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15 Init Rhegalion Arbalistre: 1d20 ⇒ 20 Init Talyssa Dane: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 Init Ifris Lanvaldan: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15 Init Inspector Reginald Filby: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 Init Devinn LeMont: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14 Init Fire Sprites: 1d20 ⇒ 14 Init Illyan the Butler: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21 Init Sorkana: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19 NPC Stats:
Fire Sprites (3) hp 4/4; AC 12/11T/12FF; CMD 9 (17 vs trip) +2F/+0R/+0W; Immune to Fire Illyan the Butler hp 18/18; AC 14/13T/11FF; CMD 14 +2F/+6R/+0W Sorkana hp 23/23; AC 16/16T/14FF; CMD 13 +2F/+3R/+4W (+2 vs Enchantment)
Ugh.. post got deleted in mid tying. I'm going to my Crossfit workout but I'll get it done. Sorry.. at least Way of the Wicked is done.
Working on an update this morning. In other news, my wife and I are going to Hawaii tomorrow and will be there for about a week. I will check here often.
Now that all of the player posts are done I will do the actions for the fire sprites, butler and Sorkana. I know getting us going again was a bit of a rough start, but thanks for keeping up with this. I promise you, this Adventure Path is awesome, and 100% worth the interaction.
@Steven: What is unclear about this combat? Let me know and I will be happy to answer any questions for you. @Talyssa: The reason why Sorkana was able to Teleport to the next floor down is because all flooring on the lower parts of the ship are described as metal grating that allow for vision between the spaces. Thus line of sight is not blocked, but line of effect would be. Based on the spells you mentioned, I will reference the PRD: "Line of Effect: A line of effect is a straight, unblocked path that indicates what a spell can affect. A line of effect is canceled by a solid barrier. It's like line of sight for ranged weapons, except that it's not blocked by fog, darkness, and other factors that limit normal sight. You must have a clear line of effect to any target that you cast a spell on or to any space in which you wish to create an effect. You must have a clear line of effect to the point of origin of any spell you cast. A burst, cone, cylinder, or emanation spell affects only an area, creature, or object to which it has line of effect from its origin (a spherical burst's center point, a cone-shaped burst's starting point, a cylinder's circle, or an emanation's point of origin). An otherwise solid barrier with a hole of at least 1 square foot through it does not block a spell's line of effect. Such an opening means that the 5-foot length of wall containing the hole is no longer considered a barrier for purposes of a spell's line of effect"
Associated School: Conjuration. Replacement Power: The following school power replaces the acid dart power of the conjuration school. Shift (Su): At 1st level, you can teleport to a nearby space as a swift action as if using dimension door. This movement does not provoke an attack of opportunity. You must be able to see the space that you are moving into. You cannot take other creatures with you when you use this ability (except for familiars). You can move 5 feet for every two wizard levels you possess (minimum 5 feet). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Intelligence modifier.
Right, I want to keep the combat going and things seem to be slowing down. Talyssa is supposed to post today and I will message Filby on facebook and see if he wants a DMPC for this round.
Happy All-Hallows Eve, be safe out there tonight. Alastair and Talyssa are up.
Alastair and Talyssa if you want to go I'll DMPC Filby for this round. If your waiting for his Round 38 post, we can assume he simply did not act.
I'll give Filby tomorrow to put up his post, if I don't see anything by Friday morning I'll DMPC him, as I know he is busy with his freelance stuff.
@Devinn: *nod* waiting on you and Filby and I can move us along to the next round.
@Ifris: Yes, all of the decks on the ship except for the main deck are grated and you can see through. It provides line of sight, but may block some line of effects. @Devinn: Yes, I should have mentioned that in the recap, but if you are before Init, 14 you may act. Because of the way that Rheg's spell works, I'll be chiming in with the Butler after he goes. He will be setting up to flank Alastair. EDIT: Nevermind, looks like the butler's decision has already been made for him.
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