Thrace's page

Luckily for Siddok, we can assume Thrace slept through the night as I was gone. Otherwise, she probably would not have reacted well to the lizard getting close while she slept. She is a bit... volatile?

Thrace trudged along with the rest of the group, but she was giving no effort to hide her annoyance at still being on this island. The young thief wanted to be back on task with fresh marks. Jungle survival and detective work were not her ideas of a fun way to spent time.

Sorry for being AWOL, my new job is requiring an obscene amount of hours for over the summer, and I've just been exhausted. I will be able to return to regular posting though.

Thrace pulls aside Vantas,

Hey Boss, got any magic spells to pull the truth out of that Sasha? She claims to be pretty good with a rapier, and we both know that's how the first mate bit it. Still seems to me we have found the guilty party. I could take care of the problem while she sleeps with a few silent pokes. Save us all from danger and make camp a little bit safer...

She pantomimed a few quick thrusts of a knife with a wicked grin on her face.

While compulsively cleaning one of her blades, Thrace heads over to Sasha and looks her up and down,

Nice blade. Got much experience using a rapier like that? The young hotheaded thief did little to mask her distrust of the woman, but she didn't jump out and accuse her of murder yet at this point.

Returning to camp, Thrace eyes the others suspiciously. She is pretty sure of who the killer in the group is, but there could always be accomplices. She declines Somia's offered knife for now needing to stay light on her feet.

Thrace hesitantly takes one of the berries and eats it half expecting to be sick from it.

I forgot to squeeze in a swift action to retrieve a dagger from my wrist. Would it be ok to ret-con that into my turn?

Thrace throws her masterwork dagger at the first lizard and her cold iron starknife at the second lizard:

Point Blank Dagger: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Point Blank Starknife: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Thrace mumbles angrily about allowing herself to be caught off guard while cleaning her weapons, but she follows Vantas' commands.

I don't need courting advice from a lovestruck magician. She hops to her feet and stows her blades except for the starknife.

Let's stop wasting time and get to work. The sooner we find a way out of this place, the better. And I don't want him or any of his heathen spells touching me, got it? she adds pointing the blade in Jask's direction.

Thrace sits in a corner sharpening blades and glaring at the wizard. As soon as he makes eye contact, she pantomimes gagging at his fawning over Somia.

The young thief mumbled profanities in Varisian as the wizard talked over her and gave orders. I don't want any more gear anyway. Keep the potions; they only weigh me down. And Jask isn't get back his dagger. she finished securing the masterwork blade in one of her wrist sheaths as she noted the last point. The rogue seemed quite pleased with her haul over the day as her belt was now fairly full of throwable blades.

Thrace deftly twirled the new dagger in her hand, No, not you. I was thinking of that loud-mouthed redhead. The other loudmouth redhead... She went straight for a rapier in the wreckage pile. Anyone remember her name? I didn't bother to commit it to memory.

Seeing Somia take the leather armor, Thrace gestures towards her discarded non-masterwork studded leather armor, It has a bit more protection if you want it. I have no need for it, and it's too heavy to lug around two sets of armor.

Thrace immediately strips the first mate of his armor and replaces her own leather armor with the higher quality gear.

Thinking the ship in the bottle could be pawned for a few gold, she stuffs it into her pack as well. She passes over the heavier items, the booze, and the potions. None of that interests her. She does grab a handful of coins though (88gp).

She scoffs at the holy symbol, but takes Jask's dagger.

As she pulled off the armor and got a better look at the body, Thrace realized the weapon was a rapier that took the life of the first mate.

Who on the ship favours using a rapier? Because that would be our killer. I'd bet my share of the loot on it. Well... half my share... Stay away from my share.

Move Action: 5-ft step to move within melee range and flank.

Thrace swings away with starknife and dagger at the scorpion:
Flanking Melee Starknife Attack: 1d20 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (17) - 1 + 2 = 18
Damage: 1d4 + 1 + 1d8 ⇒ (4) + 1 + (8) = 13

Flanking Melee Dagger Attack: 1d20 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (4) - 1 + 2 = 5
Damage: 1d4 + 1 + 1d8 ⇒ (4) + 1 + (8) = 13

As a result of some witty banter on the Roll20 page, Thrace received 2 cold iron daggers from Vantas in exchange for being part of his team and not stabbing him in the back.

Current gear set up: Starknife in one hand, standard dagger in off-hand, cold iron dagger in each wrist sheath, and last dagger tucked in boot.

Eying the giant scorpion, the thief doesn't look pleased, but at least she gets to try out the new daggers....

Thrace moves in towards the Scorpion and throws her dagger.
Move Action: 15ft diagonally
Close Ranged Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Close Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Swift Action: Trigger wrist-sheath to rearm dagger.

There is a visible twitch in the young rogue as she holds back wanting to punch Jask in the face. Well, Wizard? Free the criminal. I'm not going to do it...

Being without weapons does not mean he is unarmed. I have faced foes who could finish off half a dozen swordsmen with their bare hands.

She resecured her daggers, Any deaths are on your head, Wizard. Don't make me regret leaving him alive.

You have one chance, Jask. Don't blow it.

Thrace looks through the pile again to check for any unclaimed weaponry. She then takes a long draw from her water skin before dumping her pack with the crew members staying.

With a deft flick of the wrist, a dagger appears in Thrace's hand.

I would rather not tempt fate anymore with this laughing man. Clearly he is hiding something, and I would not have him roaming free amongst us. You think it is dangerous here; well it would only be more dangerous with this man unbound.

Standing up and walking back to the man, Thrace turns back to Vantas, I will settle the problem of him being a burden in an instant, Wizard. No burden. No treachery. One slice.

Looking to the others, she continues, Who knows his crime? If we are transporting a man to his death, we can save everyone some time now.

With a loud grunt of annoyance, Thrace pulls her blade back from Jask's throat and in anger kicks the bound man to the ground.

One wrong move, criminal, and I will not hesitate to gut you myself. And with that the violent young girl walks to the fire to continue brooding the loss of her starknife.

Thrace had been polishing her remaining starknife as the other talked and gave noncommittal grunts. Once Jask started laughing, she ran over and brandished her blade against the man's neck.

Were you behind this? What do you know?

Thrace mumbles endless strings of profanities to herself as she compiles her gear back into a pack. She wipes down her daggers and slips them back into their spring-loaded wrist sheaths. Most of her angry mutterings were about the loss of one of her cold iron star knives. As the pair of blades were her most prized possessions, she seemed more surly than usual.

It was poison. Some one actually poisoned us on our own ship. And it cost me Night Monarch, she said voice dripping with hatred. I will gut the traitor myself. Sorrowbrand hates flying alone. she added referring to the remaining starknife both named after the servitors of her goddess, Desna.

Swift Action: Thrace trips her second wrist sheath to get her last dagger.
Move Action: She moves 25ft to be 20ft from the last scorpion (2 spaces SE for 15ft and 2 spaces East for 10ft).
Standard Action: Thrown dagger (10ft range + 10ft from trait).

Sickened Ranged Attack into Melee: 1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (5) + 3 - 4 = 4
Sickened Damage: 1d4 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4

Thrace dashes in and throws her last dagger, but it bounces harmlessly to the ground.

Doesn't change the roll at all, so that works for me. Quick question: Do I still have my wrist sheaths?

Thrace steps back 5 feet and throws her dagger at the the nearest scorpion.

Sickened Attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Sickened Damage: 1d4 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4

The stinger fails to pierce through Thrace's armor as she moves away.
Acrobatics (DC 11): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Thrace backs away 10ft from the nearest scorpion hoping to draw them towards her: Acrobatics: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

She then throws a starknife at the closest scorpion:
Attack on closest: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Damage: 1d4 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
Crit Confirmation: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Damage: 1d4 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3
Damage: 1d4 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1

Took my turn in Roll20, did you want us to post our actions in the gameplay thread as well?

Thrace sits off the side sharpening the many edges of her star knives. Short and scrawny, the mousy girl isn't exceptional looking nor is she particularly unattractive. It is mainly her lack of any social skills that put people off around her.

The young orphan has already been quickly sizing up the rest of the crew seeing who she can steal a few coins off of during the voyage. Her unkempt hair is divided off into two hasty pigtails, her high leather boots are scuffed and worn beyond ever recovering a shine, her brown trousers are faded, and her flowing while shirt conceals spring loaded knives attached to each forearm.

OK, everything good to go. Raised int, lowered cha and wis, and changed up equipment a bit: two cold iron star knives as main weapons (eventually with returning/called and distance enchantments hopefully), two daggers (each in a spring loaded wrist sheath as backup weapons), and as much gear as I can carry without slipping into medium encumbrance.

May be a bit shaky for the first level, but will start to pull together around 2 once I get the finesse rogue talent.

Checking in. I too have some extra gold to spare. I was going to pick up more star knives for throwing, but I'm just under my weight limit and don't want to hit medium encumbrance.

Since charisma is covered, I think I'm going to tweak my stats a bit to lower charisma and raise int so I can qualify for combat expertise. Otherwise I think I am finished with my character. Thanks for picking me :)

Ok, I think I finished. Character sheet and bio are in the alias profile.

I think rogue has more options than most classes for unique combinations. Even with the scout/knife master there are several viable options. I always thought a non-lethal sap build could be fun, so I might alter to do that instead.

Yo Sersi I see you want to throw your hat in too? Want to join in the misfit chronicles of Vantas?

But of course, long live the Rularogue!

I'll have my finished submission up soon, but Thrace is a Scout/Knife Master who relies on star knives and being overall a nasty, childish, envious type.

Thrace looks through the library before leaving hoping to find anything of note.
Awareness (30): 1d100 ⇒ 4

Sorry everyone, some real life issues came up (moved to a new place, and then had to fly home to deal with my grandmother's health declining/getting affairs in order). But I'm back now!

Thrace shifts nervously.
"Um... I don't know if it is proper to attempt to use my abilities in the Seer's home. And I'm sure Seer Aristarchus's control is far superior than my own..."

Relieved that the others have arrived, Thrace grows quiet hoping to melt into the background and just observe the conversation. She fights the initial impulse to tap into the Warp to truly hide herself realizing that it would be a grave mistake. Instead she just sips the beverage and silently eats the meal unless asked a direct question by the Seer.

"Yeah... Sounds like a plan..." she replies as Logan is leaving.
Thrace sits there and sinks into the chair nervous to be alone with the high ranking Psyker, but she is also releaved not to be around the suspicious bounty hunter.

Oops, thanks.

"Or actually, it would probably be more prudent to meet the others down at the precinct... If that is ok with you, Seer."

Smooth...

The young psyker removes her goggles out of respect for Aristarchus.

With great effort to keep her voice from quivering, Thrace addresses him:
"Throne be with you, Seer. We ran into some trouble with local gang members and their supposed 'prophet.' There are indeed others in our group, but they are currently with the Senior Arbitrator wrapping up the situation at the precinct-fortress. I hope we will be of use to you in the meantime before the others arrive. We didn't want to keep you waiting longer than needed, sir."

Thrace gestures with her head back towards Cosrach, "What he said. If the Throne wants to us to survive, we will. But um.. Yeah... The combat simulations they run sanctionites through on Terra Prime don't compare to the real thing. The adrenaline is... Well more compromising than I expected. And unfortunately to do my job, there I always a risk of well... Unintended consequences. That's why I have..."

Her expression becomes much more somber, and her typical degree of shyness returns as she reaches into her boot and pulls out a knife. It is an exquisitely crafted Bowie knife that is made of an inky black, obsidian-like substance.

"This... A Psykata... If things ever get, um, beyond salvaging, I will do what needs to be done to protect the Empire. By the Throne, I swear."

She reverently returns the mercy blade to its hidden sheath before growing silent and distant for most of the remainder of their trek.

Thrace scans the area quickly, before relaxing a bit and resting her hand on her sword's hilt. "You got it, Brute Boy," she retorts with a smirk secretly hoping he doesn't plan on just gutting her once the others are gone.

As she holsters her weapon, Thrace quickly looks around to make sure no one in the crowds is looking directly at her and then drops the chameleon power.

With an air of arrogance and self-importance quite out of character, she briskly addresses the Senior Arbitrator:
"Any purported psychic phenomena witnessed was merely part of the risks of serving the Throne. I've been brought in as an expert on the matter for examining evidence of unsantioned use of psychics. Know that I am here on the authority of the Inquisition. That is all you need to know of my credentials."

Dear Emperor, please don't let them kill us....

Agility Test(30-10=20): 1d100 ⇒ 11 Thrace takes (10/2-2) = 3 wounds 10 from above, halved from test, and 2 for toughness
She currently has 9 Wounds remaining

Challenging Scrutiny Test(30/2+0=15): 1d100 ⇒ 59
Common Lore (Adeptus Arbites) is advanced and not on Thrace's skill list... Bummer

Failing to notice anything off about them and unable to recall and specifics regarding their organization, Thrace panics as the goons threaten her companions. She racks her mind looking for any info on using the warp that might be able to help her understand what just happened or to help get her out of this uncomfortable scenario:
Forbidden Lore Warp (38-5=33): 1d100 ⇒ 80
And... She comes up blank on any clues from the shock of flying through the air.

But where her vast intellect is failing her, hopefully her trigger finger will not.
She quickly moves up to the Arbiter that speaks and has her pistol inches from his head. assuming I am still hidden. And holding the last half of my action to fire if he tries anything aggressive towards Bulldog and to see what the others do.

If needed:
Concealment(30/2+30): 1d100 ⇒ 98
Aaaaannd... Hopefully my previous concealment check is enough... Because she apparently started singing a song and clanging symbols...

And GM, if I didn't already wow you with my unexpected ability to derail an entire campaign, I don't know what will :)

I messed up. Sorry. No insanity. It was the gravity one instead....it's been corrected.

Still the worst Psyker ever. I turned a simple encounter into a death trap... The sheer carnage of throwing a crowd of people plus objects over three stories in the air... Today I have learned the Warp is really scary.

Awareness(30/2+10=25): 1d100 ⇒ 33

Thrace tries to maintain her veil to avoid the authorities:
PT(7): 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Fate Point 2 of 3 for day to reroll failed check.
PT(7): 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Argh! Why do I keep rolling 9! I am the worst Psyker ever!
Psychic Manifestation: 1d100 ⇒ 59
Gravity seems to "turn off" as everything within Radius: 2d10 ⇒ (10, 1) = 11 meters rises up Height: 1d10 ⇒ 10 meters for a few seconds before crashing down. Assuming the GM deems it appropiate, all within the affected area must roll 1d10+7 for damage taken from the fall (It doesnt specify that they take fall damage, but I assume people would, right? Fall damage from this height from the table on page 210)

If appropriate, otherwise ignore
Thrace crashes back to the ground hitting her Location: 1d100 ⇒ 48 right leg for
Damage: 1d10 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 wounds.

Concealment(30/2+30+10=55): 1d100 ⇒ 43 Thrace continues to hide herself with 1 degree of success.

With a hushed voice, the hidden Psyker tries to get the attention of her comrade holding the hand cannon:
"Zoros! We should use the chaos and confusion to pin the blame on one of the cultists! Blame them as the sorcerer and let's get out of here."

Thrace gets rather meek and is unable to meet Logan in the eyes. "We'll... It's hard to explain. Sometimes using the Warp causes... Feedback. It's usually harmless... But well... There are always risks to tapping into that power. Comes with the profession I guess."

"Maybe we should find a less... Public location before I try too much manipulation."

Thrace continues to hide under her spell until the danger of a crowd is lessened before dropping the chameleon power
"Also just a warning, the warp will mend you, but well... Your body will try to fight back. It'll likely hurt more than the initial injury, so brace yourself..."

Heal(PT=7): 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 for Wounds: 1d5 ⇒ 5
Bulldog is fully healed.

Oh that makes sense for the power. And oops, completely forgot about the engaged aspect of it. Thanks for the correction.

Free Action
Using a well practiced motion, the otherwise nerve-wreaked Thrace quickly pulls the trigger firing another round at the fleeing thug:
Attack (test=62): 1d100 ⇒ 44
And hits him in the back for damage: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13 points of damage.

Round 4
With a noticeably shaky voice she replies to Logan, "I'm sorry, Brute Boy, I've never been stabbed before..."

Half Action
With another smooth trigger pull she fires at the closest fleeing thug:
Attack (test=32): 1d100 ⇒ 7 hitting him for
damage: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5 to the left leg.

Half Action
She then in a panic freezes and attempts to conceal herself as the situation grows more restless.
Concealment (15+10+30): 1d100 ⇒ 15 half Ag + not moving +chameleon = 4 degrees of success

Just to clarify, I believe I am still concealed by my chameleon spell as I made the heal check with the +4 difficulty modifier. Is that correct?

Thrace scans the area quickly Perception: 1d100 ⇒ 93 (Per/2 = 15)
But the pain of the wound plus the pain of healing with the warp have prevented her from noticing anything new.

With pistol in hand she then directs her attention on the thugs with a quick three round burst on the uninjured thug who stabbed her. Semiautomatic burst using Stub Automatic
Test: 32 (BS) + 10 (burst modifier) +30 (point blank range)= 72
Semiautomatic: 1d100 ⇒ 45 (2 degrees of success = 1 extra hit)

1st bullet: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 impact damage to the body.
2nd bullet: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8 impact damage to the body.
Tables 7-7 and 7-6