Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
”Greetings.” Valdear announced, walking into the building. His face was a mask of practiced neutrality, as he fought the urge to be judgmental. The ramshackle nature of the building and the peeling paint spoke of such low class that he felt like he was lowering himself by entering. But, reminding himself that the mission called for it, he steeled himself for such deprivations. ”Is anyone here?” The elf’s voice rang out.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Clutching his sinuses while walking out into the fresh air, Valdear took a deep breath. His annoyance at the charm of the small town was seeping through, despite him knowing that the folk had caused him no offense or harm. ”It would seem that we should head over to the tavern.” Looking at his companions he said ”Not only do we need to secure lodging for the night, but we can learn if our quarry fell back to his old ways.”
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Valdear raised an eyebrow at the exclamation. ”Your theory is not without merit.” He said, his voice cultured and his tone even. ”Is it safe to assume, then, that the taxes were indeed collected, and that he left town with the money?”
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
”Let us dispense with talking to locals about their monstrous pets and invented water monsters.” Said Valdear with a sigh. ”The head of this town should have the information we seek. And the sooner we get that, the sooner we can leave.”
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Valdear watched impassively. Or at least he thought he did, in truth there was a distinct sneer on his face. A dirty, rotten child with a pet to match. Not only had it lost its pet, but it had to temerity to play the victim after the creature had attacked them. He turned away from the scene. If the others wanted to coddle the child, they could. Perhaps it would turn up a clue or a lead. More likely it was a waste of time and energy. But either way, he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t be of any help in this task. And he saw no reason to sabotage it with his presence.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
The elf turned to look, wondering why the others were acting so wary. A small child was calling to a pet, and something was rustling nearby. Still, he put one hand on his false arm, ready to pull his sleeve off if required.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Valdear walked alongside the others, a well worn traveler's cloak draped over his shoulders and head. This was worn, not only due to the weather, but also in a losing attempt to save his own clothing from further unnecessary wear and tear. While he did own a second pair of clothing, he kept that safely locked away, for when the occasion demanded wearing clothing that matched. However, he did appreciate Nina's repellant for the insects that plagued them. In this, he used a minor dose of magic to remove the repugnant smell prestidigitation which he regularly applied. Despite his attempts to remain polite, his disdain for the Twilight Academy was nonetheless obvious. Likewise, he attempted to look pleased with their surroundings once they had entered the tavern, but all that he managed was to appear aloof. "Nzuri." He said, turning to their companion. "Your demeanor is radiant." He said, matter of factly. It was stated as one saying a fact, rather than giving a compliment. "That is a skill which I lack. Might I impose on you the task of standing between us, and the social danger that demands our attention? We must identify the mayor of this..." He paused, thinking of what word would both be accurate and not disparaging. "...locale." He settled on. He had thought about asking the others. But Ydalia looked like his arm: infused and blighted with arcane power. Which was not the look which endeared oneself to the common folk. Nina was terrifying, in a way that only a Hellknight could achieve. Dalabrac was proof that not all halflings were impossible to refrain from chatter. And himself? He was self aware to know his own limitations, and social niceties were never his strong suit. Of them all, only Nzuri had the pleasant presence required for such interactions. Does Valdear know that Nzuri is an Azata?
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Valdear glanced over at Nina. While he had to agree with the others that their employer had poor judgement to assign a reformed drunkard to a task involving the handling of a large amount of money...she had obviously learned from her lesson. Hiring a Hellknight was the wisest possible move on ensuring that the gold was indeed returned.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 ”And how much in back taxes was owed, and who did the two of you expect to pay?” Valdear inquired. If he was perturbed by the idea of a missing family member, he gave no sign of it. He assumed one of three possibilities: that the man was waylaid by those who owed a decade and a half in taxes; that he had absconded with the gold; or he was incompetent enough to waste his time on strong drink and all that went with it. And there was the distinct possibility that if the second had happened it led to the third.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
“The beginning is often the best place to start, if the end is ever to be found.”
He was well dressed, wearing a tailored tunic of elven fashion: a muted deep blue, almost black, silk blend: once luxurious, now wearing thin at its stress points. Prestidigitation kept it immaculately clean, though there was a limit to how often it could be repaired. Much like him, it clung desperately to a brighter past and an elusive future. He did not respond to offer of pudding or bread, rather he stood formally and somewhat awkwardly, his gaze fixated upon their employer. K Local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
For any whose gaze lingered upon the elf, much could be inferred. Much like his tunic, a buckler that hung from his belt was obviously from his homeland. Light, elegant, made from Mithril, it weighed almost nothing and could easily be mistaken for art. In contrast, a crossbow was slung across his back. Obviously it human-make, it was mass produced and naught but practical. No other weapon was readily apparent. He also carried with him a pack, which in the elven style, complemented his clothes. The contents of said container were all mostly of human-make, bought here and there as he was forced to adapt to his home-in-exile. That is, except for his grimoire, which was kept safely packed away, far from prying eyes or hands.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
If someone has a free lvl 3 feat, VMC rogue gives trapfinding. Ydalia Ganae wrote: Same! And always good to know Ydalia has Nina’s back :-D Fingers crossed. :)
The mage did his best to not look pleased at her reaction. In his homeland, his skills as a mage were...passable at best. The loss of his comrade and his arm were evidence of his desire to rise above the label of merely being a graduate of an institution of higher learning, towards being that of someone who had earned respect as a professional. Even his arm, made by his own hands, were looked down upon as being an action of dubious ethics and potential hubris. Deep down he knew that he was not the elf that he wanted to be, but it felt *good* nevertheless to receive such respect. Pushing such feelings down, he focused on the task at hand. Learning, both his new companion and her culture. The story made sense, and a detail stood out. The giant blood within those of the far north explained much. If all up there had such stature, then it explained her size. But was it truly a mixture of blood? Or was it an environmental change that came about naturally? Or perhaps ancient experimentation done by mages in the past, to ensure the survival of elves who had ventured too far? The researcher in him desperately wanted to know. The question became how to find said groups, for he had only heard tales. Of those who had met elves of the north, invariably they were the 'snowcaster' variety, for the few northern elves seen had not been described as being unusual in size. But to know that there were clans even further to the north? Just as she had looked at his magic as being unusual to the point of wonder, so too did he see her size in the same light. "From here? No." He said, trying to keep the disdain from his voice. He had lowered himself to work amongst humans because he had larger goals in mind, and sacrifice was needed in the pursuit of progress. "I would recommend visiting the lands of your southern kin. Should you find yourself doing so, it would be a pleasure to guide you in said travels. There is a distinct lack of Dwarven ale, but the wines and meads are in great variety. Well, should my activities beyond the borders conclude, of course." He said, raising his glass of wine (if he could truly call it that) up to her in a toast.
The elf smiled at both the question and the elven. A common language, even one so archaic, was grounding in the commonality. He had a thousand questions, but he knew better than to launch into them like a child. Not when he carried the weight of his house on his shoulders. Even if he kept said name to himself, the gravitas was both internal and a weight to carry. ”That is wise.” He conceded, evenly. ”And it would appear that we have both applied for the same line of work. I-“ He gently and carefully removed the glove over his right hand. ”Am Valdear. A practitioner of the arcane arts.” His hand, now exposed, was shown now to be made of glass. He kept it low to the table, outside of the view of those around them. The glass was green and seemed to flow as if though it were made of liquid. His fingers melded together, hardening into a single blade, only to separate once more. Gently and smoothly he slid the glove back on. ”I have come to fund my experiments. And I and sure that if we are both hired I will indeed be in need of your assistance. But, what brings you so far south?” He asked, carefully watching her reaction. His experiment, while not common, was not so shocking back in his homeland. He was fascinated in a way he had not felt in many a year…
Helina the Beast wrote:
Valdear sat up straighter, taken aback by the question. He had not been sure what to expect, but this wasn’t it. Slipping into the tongue of his people, he asked ” Nys kar va, Kaweh Tel'Ath saren yth quessir?”
It was all so fascinating. He truly wished that he had been a student of history; for he could not help but think that the woman before him represented what his own civilized people might have been like millennia ago. The idea of an offshoot that dressed in such an uncouth way…why, the tales were indeed true. He couldn’t help but notice that her form was unlike any he had seen in his homeland. Unmistakably elven, but larger, more…feral. Or savage. A sculpture by hobby, he thought that if he made a statue of her then his contemporaries would claim that he had taken artistic licenses. There was so much that he wanted to know, from what language they spoke to whether they even had practitioners or the arcane arts. That she did not assume him to be one indicated to him that her knowledge of nobility stemmed from interactions with humans rather than their…no…his people. But the questions could wait. One thing at a time, and a linguistic connection was the first step.
"Fullständigt!! Fullständigt!! var är du min fluffiga djursamling Björn!!" Valdear looked up, startled. His face, already pale, drained of color when she walked in. ”Gods above.” He muttered. ”Its one of *them.* He had heard of the elves to the north. Barbarians, one and all. He had thought the tales to be just that, only he had assumed they were malicious half truths. For how could elves grow to such a size as was told? Or live in the wilds like…like… But here one was, in the flesh. And not just one of the north, but it…she…had a bear as well. A bear. All he could do was stare, as he tried to process what he was seeing. Against his better judgement he shifted over, allowing room to sit at his table. If nothing else, it would make for a story back home. But just as much he hoped that the other elf who had entered, Ydalia, would take the seat. For at least that would mean more urbane company. Less of a story to share in years to come, but most likely a far more pleasant experience.
For a level 3 party, it's actually surprisingly balanced thus far. Only weakness is a lack of healing. But a bard can handle that, especially with a wand of cure light wounds. Interestingly, Nina, Chakos, and Valdear all have AC19. Also, just noticed. Chakos, Valdear and Nzuri are all elves. Which is not something which is seen that often.
GM Woe wrote:
Thanks for looking over the concept. Also wanted to say that I didn't ask about 3.5/3pp content, and I've build Valdear completely pathfinder legal. :) As a note (and it is touched on in the RP below). His black blade arm is intelligent. Why? Because it has a water elemental bound inside of it. The choice on liquid glass for his arm is intentional for RP purposes. Because it is (a) solid enough to hold firm) (b) fluid enough to response to pressure (c) self-repairing because the elemental's environment must remain intact. It's akin to...an aquarium. A false environment for the elemental, with him borrowing its connection to the plane of water. If Valdear was to level up (I know we won't for this module, but if) then it would be explained by the connection to the plane of water strengthening and stabilizing. ------------- GM Woe wrote:
"Yes." Valdear said, with some hesitation. He thought back to his family and how he had left them. He hadn't left on exactly the best terms. He hadn't lied when he said that he was a graduate of the prestigious academy but his research was frowned upon. Unconsciously he touched his right arm, which was covered by a long sleeve shirt and a satin glove. The explosion still weighed heavily upon his mind. He had lost his arm, his research partner had lost his life. And while he had created a replacement, his reputation had taken irreparable damage. Especially with his family, whose good name was besmirched. Not so much from the death, for accidents did happen, but from the abject failure from someone that had such a promising future. He had left home, and gone to such a wretched place of filth and squalor as a human city, because he had wanted to return home with some sort of achievement. To have proven that his arm, which he had sculpted and enchanted himself (having bound an elemental to it), was enough of a breakthrough to overcome the pall that hung over his name. But if he died in the process? Why, it would merely cement his shame. And to have a pittance sent to them? Why, that would just compound it. Forcing a smile, he said "Would it be possible to write a charity instead? It could be under my family's name. I believe that doing so would bring word to them, and it would soothe any grief more than providing them with the monetary compensation." If nothing else, he reasoned, it would force them to publicly praise him. Because with the family name attached to something which held social good, they would be unable to distance themselves without losing further face.
Thoughts on build for GM: A few things, to just explain the build without you having to do a deep dive. (1) Starts off with gestalt constructed pugilist brawler and kensai blade bound magus. The constructed pugilist gives a false arm, which counts as a 1 handed light weapon and an unarmed strike. At lvl 1 it gets 1 modification, and I chose to make it a slashing weapon. This is literally all that brawler gives him, as it trades out martial flexility. (2) Magus 3 gives him a black blade. It must be a 1 handed slashing weapon, which his constructed pugilist arm meets the criteria for. (3) As a dex build, he has slashing grace. Letting him use dex to damage with said arm. (4) I pushed for as much concentration bonuses as possible. I got to +14, meaning that he can't fail concentration with a cantrip. (5) He has very limited spells. Just 3x lvl 1 spell slots each day. I'm still figuring out what best to use it on, but I'm not planning on spamming shocking grasp or the like. Much more into control and positioning spells. (6) As a final note...the constructed pugilist arm can be made from different materials. I went with liquid glass. Visually it's amazing (glass that flows like liquid and repairs itself). It gives +1 damage when it isn't broken. As it is also a black blade it is indestructible, so it can't be broken. I thus thought it was a neat combination, making use of both class features while being visually striking. So that's how it all comes together. Thought it would be useful to lay it out, especially if there are any flaws in my thinking at any of these steps.
Just saw the house rules for firearms. I’m going to make new crunch for Valdear. Firearms are now great backup weapons, but not primary ones. As written I just don’t think my build works at all. And that’s on me for not reading carefully. Something fun and maybe stupid. Gestalt lvl 1 only: constructed pugilist brawler with vicious blades (one arm is now replaced with a metal arm that does slashing damage) Lvl 3 Class: Kensai Bladebound Magus (choosing his constructed arm as his 1 handed slashing weapon) Basic crunch is up. Was a joy to make. And I love the idea of an elf who after losing his arm has made himself a new one out of Liquid Glass.
Wasn’t easy forcing in everything the build needed. And it wouldn’t “come alive” fully until lvl 4. But I’m happy with how it came out. Valdear is an elven devotee of Brigh. Lvl 1 Arcane Archer Magus Lvl 3 Trench Fighter Prepared true strike with spell slots. Plan to use it for called shots (to legs, hands, neck) for when the story and scene calls for it. Seems the best use for it. Once per day he can share the teamwork feat bonded mind. Perfect for investigations when talking wouldn’t be ideal but we need to communicate. Settled on a pistol and endless bandolier so he can keep it on him at all times, even when weapons usually aren’t allowed. And with 1d8+9 damage he is good enough in combat to count as a damage dealer. Quite happy with how he turned out. Very fun build rules to work with.
Grumbaki here. Being lvl 3 is fine. It'll be fun to test out the concept of this build. And in the future if it goes somewhere? It can be explored then. :) ------- Valdear was thin, like most elves, though lean might have been the better word. He stood tall, his head held up high. His hair, blonde to the point of being blonde, fell down to his shoulders. His eyes were sharp, as if though he was always deep in thought or was intently considering something. And his face was held in a permanent frown, as if though smiling was a foreign concept. A placard read Independent Investigators Wanted. It had brought him to a tavern, the type of which he would normally never deign to enter. The Drunken Dog. Rough timbered and gloom mantled, with beer that he'd only drink if it were by contract and stew that he'd mistake for a biological weapon. But he had come nonetheless. He needed coin, and he needed it badly. Badly enough that he would stoop to unsavory levels. The elf sat at a table, blessedly free from what passed for food and drink. And he filled out: Form 67B: Prospective Hire Intake Sheet:
1. What are your three biggest weaknesses? * I lack the physical strength of the younger races' brutes. * I am without the skills learned by those who grew up without refinement or civilization. * I have little patience for foolish questions. Unfortunately, I am in need of employment, and thus I must face this last weakness with as much grace as I can muster. 2. What is a fair price for two weeks of your time?
3. What will you miss about your last job?
4. When did you realize you wanted to have a career in government?
5. What do you plan to accomplish within your first 30 days?
6. List two ways that you will promote synergy by being a team player:
7. What are you passionate about?
In the event of your death or dismemberment, Magnimar’s reigning sovereign will compensate one survivor of your choice in accordance with your position, see form 103d for a schedule of benefits. Please mark their name below He signed, having finished the form. All that was left was to sign it. Well, that was not true...there was another form. Which made sense... Job Specific Questions:
8. List your past adventures. No embellishments please! No hero of renown will be working for me.
9. Do you scare easily?
10. What skills do you have that will be useful for investigating a disappearance?
11. I have experience in the following work environments MARK ALL THAT APPLY:
12. My friends would describe me as MARK ONE (1):
13. My biggest flaw is that I am MARK ONE (1):
14. My favorite hobby is: _____________________
By signing below, I agree to complete a follow up interview contingent upon the Lady Anikee’s interest, and will accept no more than 200GP upon successful completion of my mission, to be dispensed from the exchequer within 4 weeks of my return to Magnimar With the slightest of hesitation, Valdear signed the document.
Rules question. Can the menhir guardian archetype work with unchained monk? It would save me from having the shifter dip in my build.
Alright, I've got a build that I think would be fun to play out. A truly, utterly, completely, MAD class. Str for damage. Dex, Wis and Cha for AC. Con for HP Build Plan
--- Play style, he fulfills the role of party rogue (perception, trapfinding). Only instead of sneak attack, he does natural attacks. The magic part focuses heavily on defense (mage armor, shield, mirror image, etc) to make up for lack of armor. He starts off without any of these draconic powers. Just higher than normal strength and toughness 'for an elf.' As he levels up, the draconic powers come out. First with growing claws (lvl 2), then learning how to use them (lvl 3), getting his first arcane powers (lvl 4) and finally mastering all of the above (lvls 6+). Background Valdear, unfortunately, grew up in Diamond Lake. His mother fled backwater town in the middle of nowhere to hide her son from a jealous and irate father. She left him at the Grey Convent with naught but two letters. The first was to the priests, apologizing for leaving an infant and begging them to take him in. The second was to her son, to be given to him when he had reached adult hood. The one thing that she did not leave, though, was much of anything in the way of gold. It was little to surprise to anyone that the elf became what all flotsam become in Diamond Lake. A miner. In this, he grew up quickly and well. He began as a child, pushing wheelbarrels and carrying goods, and had grown up to swing a pick. Where many were broken by such (and all expected such an outcome from an elf) he instead grew up to be strong and healthy. Far more so than most elves. And, knowing nothing but his life in Diamond Lake, he was content. For it was his life and it was all he knew. This changed, however, when a priest from the Gray Convent came to him as he left his shift at the mines and gave him a letter. It was the first time that he had known anything about where he came from, and it broke his heart. It also raised far more questions than answers. What few answers it provided was that he had a mother who loved him, and that her husband very much didn't. Also that he had a father, who was not human. The letter begged him for forgiveness and understanding, and came with a warning. To never use his surname, for her former husband was as petty and vengeful as he was a powerful wizard. The letter was read dozens of times. And all that he had truly concluded from it was that he did not really know himself, and that Diamond Lake did not hold the answers. To truly discover who he was, he would have to leave...
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Valdear was beyond lost. Her skills lay in survivalist skills, sneaking through forests and crushing ork skulls. Being unarmed when it came to duels of wits, she instead kept her eyes peeled for more physical threats. Awareness: 1d100 ⇒ 54
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Current:
——— WS +5 (250xp)
Gives me WS(50) and T(50), which pushes wounds up to 15
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
”Can’t say this makes sense. Why would better harvests lead to...hmm...” She stopped, having come to the conclusion that someone was acting against the interests of those who owned said fortunate harvests. She just didn’t know who. The politics of the imperium were more foreign to her than those of the orks on her home world.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
”Can we hurry this up? Let’s drop them off and keep moving. It’s not like we don’t have places to be and things to do.” Valdear said. She wondered what the inquisitor would’ve think about them endangering the mission to save two random civilians.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
”Never seen so much food before, just lying around.” Valdear muttered. It made sense that there would have to be places like this, to feed the Emperor’s vast armies. But to see so much food being grown that the locals made art with it? It was hard to wrap her head around. And known that this yield was but a fraction? It was certainly something to think about. She could only begin to wonder at how many laborers it would take to work the land.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
None of that made sense to Valdear, so she decided to just think of it as being cursed. It seemed easiest that way. ”Were you a woman before you were cursed? And what is it that you can do?” She asked.
Wounds (0) HP (26) AC (19/17/12) CMD (15) Saves (5/7/4) Lvl 1 (3/3) Initiative (+4) Perception (+8)
Valdear went to check on the warp-monstrosity that was Pens, and came in to find...a beautiful woman? She looked at it with disgust, and a hint of jealousy. ”You can shapeshift?” She asked, looking at it warily. She gripped her hammer tightly. The animalistic part of her brain screamed at her to brain the monstrosity, but she fought it down. ”If we are to be working together...” She began. ”...what are your powers? What can you do? And what *are* you?” She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. It felt like she was talking to a creature that had stepped out of the legends that the elders told to scare children into behaving. It made her wonder how much was actually real, and how much was made up. By forcing herself to talk to it, she was trying to establish her bravery. |