Tried 'Luck' Gludrapluck's page

It was enjoyable playing with you too! Kruvonesh was fun to see what he'd do.

As for the nanocyte it feels like the developers spent alot of the classes power budget on the chassis and any selectable abilities didn't add much to the class. The faculties don't seem to have as much of an impact as just the basics. The redirection first level ability takes 3-4 move actions to get the benefit of, which is just pointless for a plus one, unless the enemy is regularly behind some heavy cover.

Feels like the developers could take away some of the basic abilities of the class and redirect them to selectable class features.

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Tried doesn't quite feel lucky as the grenade goes off near him and he gets thrown off balance by the weapon blast. He sprays cloud of nanites out around himself and then spends a surge to cause it to go lightly opaque. "Stay behind the cloud, Ambassador. It will help to screen you!" He then stops to catch his breath.

Activating cloud array with a nanite surge make the spaces provide 15% miss chance. Tried's clouds are green.

Tried pulls out a map of the mall. "We should also get you some supplies for that squonk! He'll need food and a toilet and probably some toys at a minimum. Now did this mall have a pet supply store?"

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

"Hrmm this place looks promising."

Untrained culture: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Tried gives a shrug not knowing any good places around the station for a drink. "If we were back on Asteres Station,I'd know a good watering whole or three if you are okay with handling a few drunk dwarves, but on Absalom Station... I don't know. Is there a phone directory?"

Luck glows faintly in the dark room of the club, his coloration shifting slowly and then faster as he gets more alcohol in his system and into the sounds of the music. "... so I finally got the nanobots to not immediately recognize alcohol as a toxin! But they still think my smokes are deadly and won't let me get more than a puff or two..." He looks up as the humanoid starts to insult the Hammer of Hylax. He steps up and clears his voice, his normally animated face settling into some very deep set frown lines. "You do know who ou are talking to, RIGHT? This august person here is the Honored Ambassador the Hammer of Hylax from Settlement AO-668. She has more diplomatic power than I think you would like to tangle with..." He tries to set up the lead in for someone else who might be better able to deliver the diplomatic equivalent of a knockout punch.

Cha skill aid: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4

It seems like the small man can't quite make himself heard over the crowds and music.

One thing to note, the playtest is ending this week! We should be fine to finish up the game after it ends I think, but we should submit surveys by the 18th!

Night life sounds good!

Tried, tired by the variety of the performances spends a few moments outside with a package of smokes and a lighter... He grumbles some as the nanite in his body seem to start to deconstruct any smoke he gets in his mouth before he can light it. Mood soured, he storms back into the theater and stops for a moment.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

"CAPTAIN*CERMINE an octave lower, set to a C minor key and the tempo set ever so slightly slower. This aha to be the best remix of the song I've heard since... Well the SSHL's made it. This is a true masterpiece. Wait a second... There, listen to the chorus chord. That is kot something someone can normally just 'sing' you'd need a 7000-x Bashwood or better quality mixer along with about three different bass layers to produce those sounds. "

I guess Luck is an audiophile?

Luck reaches into his pack and pulls out an electric Auto-tuner, thinking that the Ambassador's performance might be perfectly in tune.
Physical Science: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Holding it up, he turns a shocked orange, when, she hits notes better than a tuned Stienwoe and Daughters paino. "She has perfect pitch. I mean look at these numbers!"

Something that can cause adductor tears? ouch.

Profession Quartermaster: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

Luck watches the performance as the Hammer moves through her complex dance. He notices there's a bit where she seems to need some sort of weapon or pole, and with a few moments of digging around the place, pulls out a suitable length of steel, or iron? or could it be adamantium? Meh doesn't matter.

He tosses it to the woman in her performance, trying to make it look like it was timed to happen at that moment.

Luck perks up behind the Squonx and grabs it in his arms, offering it up to the Hammer in time to someone else's plea to overlook their aggressive behavior.

Diplomacy aid: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (14) + 0 = 14

Dangit seems my post from Friday got eaten by the boards.

Fed up with trying to get his could of nanites into a good position to be shooting from, Luck just steps around Z'Tel and gets a clear shot.

Mining the enemy, non-lethally. vs EAC: 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (9) + 8 - 4 = 13
Non-lethal BURN: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Darmotash above 12? Okay That's probably pretty over powered if you can get that much of a static damage boost at level 4!

Luck grumbles slighty as he finds that the ghorans are further way than his cloud can reach. He recalls the nanites in his current cloud, as he rushes through them, getting in closer with the ghorans and reposisioning his cloud again so he can shoot with the benefit from it in just a little bit.
Okay the cloud array and repositioning is going to be a fiddly little monster I can tell. Too many things take a move action, make the cloud, adjust if it needs to be in a different location, declare target (every other turn/after every attack), being close enough that your array can reach, etc.

Luck gives a mental signal to the cloud of nanites around him to reach out towards the ghorans as he starts to take aim with his laser. "Ambassador, I'm sorry this has descended into a fight. I wish I was better at using words, but working around a dwarfs for long periods can degrade even the most eloquent to grunts and monosylables..."

The gnome then tries to take out the closest ghoran as painlessly as possible.

Non-lethl use of a laser! Redirection?: 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 8 - 4 = 12
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Not sure where the ghorans are in relations to the group.

Blah! I've been meaning to post for a bit, whoops.

Luck smiles in his best imitation of a sincere one, despite the wrinkles, half healed scrapes and scars here and there. "Yup, we truly mean no harm to the wildlife here and want to experience and observe, but if possible from up close. That wouldn't be too much of a problem would it?"

Diplomacy, aided: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5Here's hoping his nickname holds up.... Welp it didn't.

Tried looks at his steaming gun, the torn up ground, and the last squonk still struggling in a pit of sand. His skin starts shifting through shades of various colors, the cloud of nanites around him also mirroring this, as he works through a variety of emotions and thoughts.

"Uhhh, Our Honorable Ambassador, Hammer of Xylax, here, is visiting the station for a short while and truly wanted to see one some of the local wildlife, as it is very different from what she can find back home. None of them would let us approach so I thought I would try trapping one in the sand to let Ambassador Hammer of Xylax take a closer look."

He then crosses his fingers and hopes the worry isn't showing in his coloration.

Sighing some over the complete inability of the rest of his group to even entice ONE of the small creatures, Luck draws out his big mining laser and shifts the sheath of nanites around him to a cloud of them, blinking the same colors and patterns as his skin, and forces it to splay out and over the last of the fuzzy creature. He then charges up the laser and takes aim, using his nanites to try lining up a shot. He then fires, trying to excavate a hole around the little thing and trap it in place.

Non-lethal Mining laser, redirection: 1d20 + 8 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (10) + 8 + 1 - 4 = 15
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Figured he'd get a +5 to this (even with the lethal to non-lethal penalty) vs. being completely at the whim of the dice.

Luck reaches back to his pack and pulls out the small cube that appears at the top of it. He then takes a few UPBs and tosses them into the cube. With a few presses of a button and a little time, the thing pops out with a series of low quality roasted nuts.

The food in hand, Tried tries to attract one of the little beast's attention, using the nuts as bait.

Survival: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (10) + 0 = 10

The squonkes don't seem too interested sadly though.

Luck grins broadly, a happy series of of yellows, greens and reds flickering across his skin at finding the squonks and having Dr. Everbrite acknowledge he was right. "Well, my nickname is 'Luck' after all."

He then takes a good moment to study the beasts before thinking about trying to catch one. He does release a small shroud of nanites and cause them to form a thin lining on his skin, hopefully aiding his reflexes.
Sense motive?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Acrobatics, sheath bonus: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 10 + 2 = 21

Tried tries to see if he can find any of the little furry things himself.

Survival, Untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 18

He scans the area berofe a series of red patterns flicker across his exposed skin, a clear sign of happy surprise. "Over there! Are those not some sqounx tracks? There's probably a den right there."

Life Science: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Tried gives a small ooh of excitement at the mention of small furry things. "Well even someone who hasn't lived here before like me knows there's an over abundance of squonkses in Jatambe Park! They'd probably be fun to play with for a bit too if we bring some food... That is if that appeals to you, Your Honor."

"Yes, I am sure it is a pleasure." Dr. Everbrite replies as he takes the gnome's hand and eyes the Starfinder like a specimen. "As for the 'large volume of studies' to which you refer, if you are asking about those publications dedicated to the 'pseudo-science' of 'emotional psychology', then I am afraid that I haven't had the time to debunk such speculative drivel."

Luck'S grin widens some, this was going to be a fun one to poke at. "No, I was referring to the body of work published by doctors and researchers... Hold on... Uhh seems the most recent metastudy of this was published in a place called Salom One and covered a variety... and I quote 'suggests that the patient-clinician relationship has a small, but statistically significant effect on healthcare outcomes.' but does mention the variety of eligible studies were few and there probably needs to be more research." Luck then sends a link to the page with a confident grin. I actually did find an article about this (cause I kinda wanted to basis this in some reality,) though I'm not quite sure about the quality of it as I haven't read the article and I don't have the skills to do a proper analysis of it.

The gnome does pause at the mention of the Society being the cause behind the gathering of the group. "I haven't been in the Society for long, is this a common occurrence then?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Luck walks over to the Hammer of Xylax and gives a short bow, while taking a moment to try reading how the dignitary would respond to a more formal or informal approach.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

... he sadly has no idea how to read trox expressions, however it seems. Deciding on a middle of the road approach he starts with, "Your honor, I'm Tried Gludrapluck, but please call me Tried or Luck. I'm not the most knowledgable about the station, as it's my first time here myself, but I can requisition just about anything with a suitable amount of credits and an hour. As for the nightlife, I hear there's some amazing drinking places around here... uh, somewhere."

"That is most interesting. The procedure you are describing resembles the one that was used to bolster the physical capabilities of my unit." He stares at his arm moving in in little waves. "Although it was not accidental. But further details about the unit are classified."

Luck pauses at this and scowls for a moment. "Course the vesk would see to using this for combat. But it makes sense, these little ones can be quite handy in a fight. I doubt anyone here was given them accidentally, though..."

"Hmm yes, it would seem so - how fortuitous that we should all meet here." they reply,

The gnome's eyes narrow some at the comment, "Certainly seems a bit more than fortune behind this. Wonder if someone wanted all of us in one place? But speculating any further without further information would be paranoid I guess."

before pondering a moment to consider their answer to the Gnome's question. "Our strengths come from the machines making up 83.6% of our body - they are versatile and we use them for combat, our very body becoming a Weapon when the needs arise - though we do have a rifle should that not suffice."

Tried's eyes widen, his skin taking on a few bright spots of pink in surprise. "Wow, you went that far with the procedure? Was your injury that bad? I could only stand a third of my body being mechanized... Personally, I fear that their programming would never be able to replicate my personality. Sure sufficiently advanced machines can have souls, but are these nanites sufficiently advanced enough for that? If instead they only took a copy of the structures of my body before tearing it down an rebuilding, what happens to my sentience during the time that I've been deconstructed? I'd rather not have to find out." He gives a shiver, visible ripples moving along his skin, as his coloration takes on a more somber quality.

"I would hardly refer to any procedure involving implantation of bio-congruous nanotechnological components to be a 'meat grinder'." replies the focused human. "The technicalities are always lost on the subjects. All the more validation for having employed the initial phase methodologies upon myself, I suppose."

Gald for the distraction from the existential dread, Tried smiles at the Doctor and gibes back with, "Seeing as they can literally deconstruct parts of my body, I don't see how a 'meat grinder' is not at least somewhat appropriate of a description. How would you describe it to a layman instead, Doctor?"

"As for my name, if you must know, it is Everbrite, Doctor Alstead Everbrite." the man replies. "And the application of bio-congruous nanotechnology is, indeed, my specialty. From what I can gather, I have been assigned the task of monitoring you as you undertake what, it would appear, will be a relatively simple and non-strenuous mission."

Luck pops onto his feet and strides over to the doctor, extending a hand, s+&+ eating grin on his face as he moves in for a teasing taunt. "Pleasure to meet you Dr. Everbrite. Also you've read the rather large volume of studies that shows a congenial bedside manner generally results in better outcome for your patients, right? And I kneew this couldn'T be a coincidence. So who sought to gather us all together, here, doctor?"

Luck smiles broadly at the resonance of a kindred... well, body? He strides further into he room and launches himself into a chair not really taking care to aim his landing. As his rump decends towards the armrest he shifts about a foot to the left and plops into the center of the chair. Broad grin on hsi face he looks up at the vesk, human and lashunta he'll be traveling with. "Glad to hear I wasn't the only one who was put through the tiny machine grinder of a medical procedure! As for why I'm here? Well, let's just say three months of tripping the metal detectors at work and spending 30ish minutes getting checked over for weapons or smuggled ore every day got tiring fast!" The patterns of blue, green and purple flicker across his exposed skin like rapid blinking LED lights at the vehemence of the last expression before slowing down as he takes a deep breath.

"Seems we have a devote of the Dawnflower, may her light keep shining on you. Our human friend here seems enamored with xeno species, if his singular focus is anything to go by, and PRIVATE KRUVENOSH IRONSCAR, SON OF RALOVEG THE INCENDIARY, ENSIGN NUMBER VP254TW7 here is apparently a career Veskarium solider, given his announcement that I could hear two hallways away. Sooo what is everyone here good, at if you don't mind me asking? I'm a decent enough shot with a mining laser given my time having to cover shifts in the Dispora... And I can find or repair equipment if needed."

A small gnome with a white beard and moustache combination and a darker skin that faintly shifts in a series of scintillating colors steps into the room and takes a look around. "Oh, good. Seems I'm not too late to the briefing. The shuttle from the Dispora had engine troubles on the way over. Seems they forgot to fuel up correctly before leaving the station. Anyways, Tried Gludrapluck at your service. Half the dwarfs in the dispora jsut call me Luck though, given how I don't seem to die readily. Though the explosion last year meant I had to be revived with nanobots... But I'm still breathing!"