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Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Knowledge, nature 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (5) - 2 = 3 Vogma doesn't speak Undercommon, nor can she identify the little creatures, but she sees her companions attacking and does the same Vogma takes the shield from her back and, stepping forward gracefully like an Olympic discus-thrower, hurls it at the mites. Throwing Shield (dmg 1d6+3, 20/×2, bashing, performance, trip, range 20', 70 gp) 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 After throwing her shield, Vogma keeps moving towards the mites, drawing her Greataxe as she does. ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Vogma notes narrows her eyes at Attilio Sennas . "I don't appreciate the scolding, half-elf. Keep it friendly 'tween party members, them's Pathfinder rules." Vogma then smiles at the gillman and bows slightly. "Greetings, Uori. I am the Mighty Vogma. These are my friends, and Izotu Hyr here is a good man." I'm guessing Izotu, or someone, will be making a Diplomacy roll. If so, Vogma is attempting to assist. Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Knowledge, Local: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Hearing Attilio's suggestion but not wanting to give up the cloak more quickly than her other colleagues want, Vogma hands the cloak off to Izotu so he can use it as a negotiating tool if he wishes. ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Vogma swears in a mixture of Common and Orcish... "Holy gruknuk! I got a spike right up my graknak...and it hurt like rugugu. Thank you, Attillio for rescuing this damsel in distress. You my knight in padded armor! Ooooh look, a dark blue cloak with gold trim." Vogma grabs the cloak, climbs out of the pit... Climb: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16 ...and says: "Look. A cloak. I bet it's magic. Bard, can you tell what this is? Vogma hands the cloak to the Izothu (or whoever will take it) then turns around to make sure that Attillio got out of the pit. If he needs help, she assists. ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Vogma takes a running leap. Can she propel her 300 lb bulk far enough to clear the pit? "Gangway!" Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6 If Vogma fails to make the leap, here's her roll to grab hold of the other side having missed the jump. Reflex: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8 If she falls, here's her roll to soften the fall. Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19 ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() In response to Janira's inquiries during the journey, Vogma mentions that she's a gladiator by trade and has been fighting for audiences since she was a child. Her orcish accent seems slightly less pronounced than it did back at the tavern. Vogma is happy to take night shifts on guard, citing her darkvision as to why she's a wise choice. ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Vogma takes a swig of wine, then smiles at Izotu Hyr with a broad, jagged grin as she holds out the half-full bottle. "Ha! Very good, very good, I like old man very much. You thirsty? Here, drink." Waving the bottle toward her other soon-to-be companions, the sweaty-smelling half-orc extends the same courtesy to them. "You thirsty, devil-man?" Angel-lady? Girl? Elf-face? Good wine here, yup. Drink." ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Vogma looks at Aryn Seavon with suspicion, squinting at her tell-tale signs of angelkin heritage. After a few moments of gawking, Vogma picks up a half-full wine bottle and empties its contents in four gulps. She carefully places the bottle next to three empty ones next to her feet then speaks to Aryn Seavon in orc-accented Taldan. "How am I? I am ready to fight for glory. This Pathfinder Society? It send us for free. We battle, then we come back. Good deal. You ready?" ![]()
Female Half-Orc Fighter 1
![]() Stats:
HP 12, AC 15, +3 Initiative, +0 Perception; Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +2; Greataxe (+4 to hit, dmg 1d12, 20/ x3, slashing, 20 gp) Hi gang. Sorry to get here late, but happy to join you.[/b] The rude sound of a loud belch rises above din of the crowd. Its source, an obese and scantily-clad women who looks at least half-orc, sits at a table in the corner of the Pig’s Paunch. Before her is what looks the remains of five suppers. She wipes her greasy, jagged-toothed mouth on her massive, naked arm then smiles at you. "I am Vogma. I bring axe. When you ready, I go. We kill gillmen, minotaurs, centaurs, and caverns. Then we come back, okay?" |