Tiabrar's page

/sip /sip

/twirl /twirl

Female voice: If I close my eyes I can't almost taste that.
Close your eyes?
Female voice: You know what I mean. No. Never mind.

/sip /sip

Tiabrar sips from one flask and twirls a different one in his other hand.

Female voice: Just toss it on her. If she burns up and dies, she was innocent--oops. Our bad. If she doesn't, then we can toss more on her until she dies.

I propose that we put a hold on this game for right now. DM_Panic seems quite busy and we've lost a lot of momentum. It's a good stopping point and I think I'm not the only one feeling a bit apathetic about the current paths available. Tiabrar doesn't really have the skill or knowledge to deal with the woman and is not quite reckless enough to accidentally provoke a combat or other interaction. Also, my work week just went from 40 to 50-60 hours a week, so my availability will be dropping too.

If we continue, I could use some more hints or hand-holding as to how to proceed.

Tiabrar looks on.

Some daft dwarven mage eh?
- Female voice: Arent't they all?
- True
- Female voice: But you can't figure this out can you?
- No.
- Female voice: So perhaps it'd be best if you didn't mess with it. Remember what happened when you tried mixing the scorpion blood, alchemist fire, and healing potion.
- Yeah, but it did taste great.

Tiabrar pulls out his flask and drinks. Unable to figure out how the woman was trapped here.

Well, if she has nothing for us than we definitely have nothing for her. And in this case, I'm willing to trust a daft dwarven mage's decision as to her fate."

Tiabrar does his part to haul the treasue up to the camp.

"Do we have any magics amongst us to better interrogate the woman or ascertain exactly who or what she is?"

"We should just search the rooms she is trapped within. Perhaps we will find some clue or provoke her to reveal her true identity."

As the party decides on a course of action, Tiabrar takes the time to mix together a potion of shield (open slot).

"Of course, she does seem to be trapped in there. Perhaps we could just leave her for others to deal with."

Female voice: Sure. That'll go over well. Just be sure to not use her as a reference for any future jobs.

Tiabrar pats his almost empty belt pouches.

"If anything, she should at least wait until tomorrow. I have only a single bomb left to use should a fight ensue."

"You can post guards by the walking lizards and the roper seem content in his section until we have a better way to deal with him, but Rinalda will likely object to some woman/devil/demon/doppleganger/whatever being in the library."

Tiabrar hugs the shoreline as the party proceeds, jumping across to the island at the end.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

After demonstrating an elven belly flop, Tiabrar quickly scrambles up onto dry land.

He catches his breath, makes sure none of his bottles are broken and leaps from the island to the far shore.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Round 7, Init 26

Tiabrar maintains his composure as Mobled is mauled, but doesn't draw his bow quite as much as he should. The arrow hits the dragon weakly.

Darkwood Longbow +8
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
1d8 ⇒ 2

Round 6, Init 26

I think I'm close enough.

Tiabrar takes another shot, but sends this one wide.

Darkwood Longbow +8
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
1d8 ⇒ 4

Round 4, Init 19

Satisfied with the damage caused by his longbow, Tiabrar takes another shot.

Darkwood Longbow +8
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
1d8 ⇒ 3

Tiabrar continues to wait for the dragon to resurface, but begins to look around at the walls, the ceiling, the sand.

Surely something else in this place is going to attack us. It hates elves. I just know it.

Round 2, Init 19

Feeling as if his magic has failed him, Tiabrar knocks an arrow to his bow and readies for the return of the dragon.

Darkwood Longbow +8
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25 +1 if point blank
1d8 ⇒ 6 +1 if point blank

Round 1, Init 19

Tiabrar moves to the shorline space above Martigan and throws a bomb.

Ranged Bomb (Ranged touch +7)(7x day)
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12 - Maybe +1 for point blank.
2d6 + 4 ⇒ (1, 1) + 4 = 6 Fire damage
-Target takes 1d6 fire damage each round until the target spends a round extinguishing the flames and a successful DC 15 REF save.
-Splash damage is 6 (minimum damage from bomb). DC 15 REF save for half.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20 - Knowledge aracana for this specific type of dragon. Will fire work?

Tiabrar quaffs his shield extract.

Although I feel it will be wasted. It fits his character.

Tiabrar backs away from the edge of the water also.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

"Maybe the dwarves could just do without this part of the fortress. Build a big wall? Collapse the tunnels?"

"What's that in the water?! Black dragons don't swim." I think.

Tiabrar fires an arrow towards the sound.

"There! It was right about there."

Tiabrar looks around at the party.

"What? I'm not going crazy. There's something out there. Maybe it's a giant mummy frog."

"Tiabrar, did you say something about pet dragons?! That sounds awesome. We should get pet dragons and fly around on them. We could duel in the air with lances! People will look to the sky and see our dragons, our lances and cry out: Joust!"

"That is a wonderful image. However, right now I'm more concerned with the image of me in the mouth of the black dragon that is wandering around here somewhere."

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18 - Knowledge check

Tiabrar glances at the footsteps and then quickly quaffs his mutagen before whispering.

"Mukluk. You're people didn't keep dragons as pets did they?"

Tiabrar lets someone else lead the way and then follows down the ladder.

Tiabrar finally recalls dealing with the creatures earlier in the dwarven home and wonders why Mukluk is not trying to put a pick through their heads.

"Cousins of yours Mukluk?"

Tiabrar looks about for more trogs and grips his bow tightly.

Tiabrar tries to figure out a way where he doesn't get wet at all, but settles for Doruk's plan.

If I'm going to get wet on the outside, I might as well be wet on the inside.
Female voice: Really? That doesn't sound strange to you at all? No. I'm guessing it doesn't. I'm probably the closest you've ever been to a woman.

Tiabrar takes out his flask and takes a long swig. It sloshes as he puts it away.

"I'll have you know I've been close to many women."

I like dwarves. They're happy to occupy the front lines and short enough that they're easy to shoot over.

Tiabrar stays dry and watches the dwarves wade through the muck.

He then follows along to the next section, a few steps farther away from Mobled and Mukluk.

Tiabrar considers the possibilities and finds they are equal as he will be standing safely--he hopes--in the back.

"I haven't seen anything worthy of retrieving and I would rather save my fire for something that is moving. Besides, this place already reeks enough without adding to the hoard of aromas."

Tiabrar considers the muck before him and wonders if anything besides Doruk's shield has fallen down here.

Perception
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

"I agree this place is beautiful and I'm sure the dwarves will be happy here, but I think I will limit my visits until there are more living here than dead."

"Just make sure it's secure. It'd be a shame for someone to chop off your head, even if you weren't using it."

Tiabrar jumps at the chance to throw more alchemist fire.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
1d6 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 1 = 9

Throw Anything (Ex): All alchemists gain the Throw Anything feat as a bonus feat at 1st level. An alchemist adds his Intelligence modifier to damage done with splash weapons, including the splash damage if any. This bonus damage is already included in the bomb class feature.

Somehow missed the part about all splash weapons. Wow!

Tiabrar waits for people to move and then tosses an alchemist fire at the mace. If this doesn't clear a path, he'll toss another.

1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 1 = 14
1d6 ⇒ 6
1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 7 + 1 = 19 - 2nd if needed.
1d6 ⇒ 1

Tiabrar suddenly remembers a very long night--or was it a week--experimenting with the yellow mold.

"Don't touch the mold. It'll knock you down like a troll who thinks you have his gold...and the experience is definitely not worth it."

Tiabrar gets far away from the mold.

Tiabrar ignores the shiny mace and examines the fungus and mold without actually touching any of it...yet.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26 knowledge nature
I'm guessing actually dungeoneering.

Tiabrar stays at the bottom of the ledge, figuring he can shoot anything just as well from down below (and not be smashed in the face--unless of course something else sneaks up on him).

Tiabrar stares at the recoiling table.

It isn't going to continue until it's a pile of splinters?

Tiabrar hangs back, unwilling to trust any object in this place--especially one that has already moved.

Just one arrow. Forgot the third dice for the crit. 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Round 1, Init 18

sigh

Tiabrar aims for a table leg, hoping it will be easier to damage then the tabletop.

1d20 + 8 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 8 + 1 - 4 = 25
1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
1d20 + 8 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 1 - 4 = 18
1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Edit: includes cover.

Tiabrar holds his bow and doesn't even sigh as something else comes to life.

"At least the floor hasn't swallowed us yet."

Female voice: You haven't finished exploring the place.

Tiabrar finds a sturdy bench, sits down, and sips--quickly--on a flask.

"There are no rear lines in adventuring are there?"

Round 3, Init 18

The map doesn't look like it's adjacent, but your description did.

Female voice: I'd just punch it.
That would hurt.
Female voice: It'll be more effective than your sword.

Tiabrar takes another wild swing with his longsword and stumbles back another 5'.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
1d8 ⇒ 7

Round 2, Init 18

Female voice: There's a huge skeleton in your face.

Tiabrar draws his longsword, swings wildly, and takes a 5' step back into the hallway.

1d6 ⇒ 1 fire damage from ongoing burning
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
1d8 ⇒ 7

Round 1, Init 18, J7

Tiabrar goes for a potion.

Only a few left. Aren't they're any things I can just shoot with my bow around here?

Tiabrar throws a bomb at the corner (F6) of the mound of bones by the orc, excluding the party members from the explosive splash. The bomb resemble more of a firework than a bomb now with its patterned blast.
13 fire damage to skeleton mound and on fire. 6 splash to orc.

"Mukluk. Are you sure your people were driven from this place? Maybe they just left it because its so haunted."

1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 7 + 1 = 17 -4 for cover from itself?
2d6 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (6, 2) + 4 + 1 = 13 Fire damage to skeleton mound and on fire.
-Target takes 1d6 fire damage each round until the target spends a round extinguishing the flames and a successful DC 15 REF save.
-Splash damage is 6 (minimum damage from bomb). DC 15 REF save for half.

"Nothing about this place has been safe."

Why am I here again? Helping Rinalda. Honoring an old friend. Keeping from going broke.

Tiabrar waits for Mukluk to decapitate the dead thing as usual.

Tiabrar peers into the room and guesses as to which thing is going to come alive or through which wall the monster will come to attack him.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 - Perception

PbP is like a casino. No sense of time. However, I think Tiabrar is approaching the end of his 30 minute mutagen.

Good one! :-)

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 perception

"Ghost! A ghost took the sapphire! It was in Petrel's hand a minute ago and now it's gone."

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18 - perception

Tiabrar takes a brief look at the ruined armory and then returns to looking over his shoulder frequently.

"They will need to bring in several clerics to purge this place of the ghosts and other things that haunt this place before it is livable."

Female voice: "Boo!"

Tiabra jumps.

That was not funny.
Female voice: Oh yes it was.

Tiabrar admires the sapphire (from a distance if Petrel won't let it go).

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26 - appraise

"That's a nice sapphire. I'm not sure what we'd do with it, but sell it. It'll be a lot easier to carry than a chest of gold though."