Virog Casisto's page

My apologies for the absence. I rather unexpectedly spent the days surrounding Thanksgiving camping.

While walking down the street towards the docks, Virog veers wildly towards the Ivy district, "Whoah! Ma money sense is'a tinglin'! There's gold in that there direction meant for us. Deren't we know sumbody this'n way? Daracha, Darchana, summat? Les check 't out!"

"Sounds ta' me like we need ta be at the docks when tha At Sea comes in from Sea. Shood be illuminatin'"

Virog picks his yellowed teeth with the end of his cause fear wand. This doesn't help to clean them at all, but rather leaves an ashy smear across them. "Carrel 'as the way 'a it. Ah thought we was such good friends 'an all... Savin' yer life. Forgettin' about how yer business done us harm. Ye really could do us this solid, an' we would be right grateful. Mite show up again later te help ye out when ye need it. Ye never know when ye goan need friends like us."
Diplomacy/aid?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Her ship, "At Sea". Should we act out the "who's on first?" routine or just assume it happened? Because that is an amazing name for a ship.

Virog shrugs and squats next to where the merchant is on the floor. "I'll take friends. Friends 's good. Last group deren't seem t'much like friends. Ah'm... err ... We're respresentin' a group, lookin' for a slave that y'all sold, name of Atlag. T'slave was workin' fer Lady Silviana. 'T'weren't just who ye sold it to thas got us all in a bother. 'S that she were a spy. Ah need te know what'cha know 'bout this slave, and all'a these shenanigans. Ya'know... On account 'a us bein' friends. That way we can help smooth over any potenshal leads back ta here."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Virog will scoot into the back room next to Carrel, draw his wand of cure light wounds and cast it on the merchant. "Y'all still rattlin' 'round up thar?"

cure light wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Virog will flick the wand of cause fear and fire off a charge at him. "Goan now'an git."

Second verse, same as the first

"Ahm no goan beg she'll stop stabbin ye unless ye'r goan leave or get with the talkin'. An 't'looks like yer not likely ter be walking after t'much 'a this." Virog brandishes his wand scoldingly, but doesn't actually cast anything yet.

Virog 5' Step's forward, draws his wand of cause fear and waves it at the thug directly in front of Mivvy. "Git!"

DC 11 Will save or be frightened for 1d4 rounds. If they succeed,
they are still shaken for 1 round.

Initiative: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (11) - 2 = 9

Virog jumps slightly, startled by the rate of escalation, but not by the escalation itself.

Virog chuckles, as he steps up to the door and peers in. "Answered ma question, though. Wat's in here, now?"

Virog sidles into the office, alongside the rest of the party. He glances around at the rest of the party and gestures at the door on the far wall and whispers "d'we knock, or jus sidle'n"

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

"Ah agree that misary row shood be our next stop."

Virog rattles as he walks from the various small trinkets braided into his matted beard and hair bouncing off of each other. "Virog Casisto. Ahm here teh help. Ain't been quite so great at helpin' so far. But 'ahm readin' up on sum new tricks'n'all."

Thinking about it, I should explain further as we’ve had changes.

Good idea. I'm planning on going arcanist and then mystic theurge, focusing on buffing and functioning as a general toolbox caster.

Odds of me finding one are probably pretty slim then. I've always had to work during GenCon. Good to know, though. Thanks.

"If I recall my scrying, it could'a bin anythin', s'long as 't were marked speshul and unique. As ta be easier to pinpoint with the spell. So deren't matter what 't were, next one'll be diffrent, by dint of needin' ta be speshul."

Thanks!
Any chance I can get the name of that boon? I'd like to try and run down a copy of it so that I can help some local players rerun something they played years ago.

While the title of this didn't ring any bells the box text definitely did. I apparently have played this before. If it's not a problem for you guys, though. I'll just use one of my remaining 19 replays that I have saved up to replay it here.

Virog Casisto wrote:

I have played neither, but have prepped Hall of the Flesh Eaters to run it for a group that did not show, so I know a bit about it. Not that I can't play dumb fairly well.

Holds tongue...

That set up was intential, I swear.

I have played neither, but have prepped Hall of the Flesh Eaters to run it for a group that did not show, so I know a bit about it. Not that I can't play dumb fairly well.

That's awful! I'm sorry to hear that.

I go temporarily blind for about an hour every month or so at random, but it's just optical migraines. I would hate to have it be a regular or even permanent thing.

I'm happy to continue if the group continues.

Virog will grumble the whole way back about how that was absolutely not what was supposed to happen. He is however, exceedingly grateful for having not been left behind.

Roll to Stabilize: 1d20 ⇒ 6 sadness

Virog will 5' step, draw an alchemist's fire from his belt, and cast burning hands on the minotaur, consuming the alchemist's fire as an optional alchemical power component.

Burning hands: 1d4 ⇒ 3 DC14 Reflex save for half damage, if he fails the save, he also catches fire

We're waiting on Saya now, right?

Virog will cast bless, which includes all of the party except Janira and Shaya. He then carefully moves across the log bridge, taking his time and moving at half speed so as to not slip into the water.
Acrobatics: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (14) - 2 = 12

I was waiting on the parry and riposte combo, because Mivvy did move through a threatened square. I can go now, though.

Virog will full run to the edge of the stream, his beads rattling and clacking loudly the entire way.

"I don't much care fer this."
Initiative: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (17) - 2 = 15

Did you make your save against my cause fear? It will change what I'm going to do next in this round.

Virog will move across the path, skirting the area that has been pointed out as a trap, and brandish his wand of cause fear in the direction of the creature to the north.

"GIT"

Cause Fear

DC 11 Will save or be frightened. Success reduces it to shaken.

Virog will move forward to outside the hallway and draw his wand of cause fear. Oh to be able to draw it as I move. I long for the day.

Initiative: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 2 = 11

Virog remains relatively close to the back, plucking the larger of the fungi samples off of the wall and tucking them into his pouch.

"I wonder if'n the mushrums are eatable. I'm not keen teh try, in case, they're not. But ahm struck with a mighty curiosity. I might scrape a few up so as to identify 'em later."

If the party moves at all slow enough where it is reasonable, Virog will lag behind slightly and put a small handful of the mushrooms into his bag.

Virog shrugs. "I dunnat care. Ah was asked a question, and Ah answered it. The cloak means naught te me."

Virog loudly pops a finger out of his mouth and wiggles it in a small circle, pointing it at the cloak. Casting detect magic.
I don't have spellcraft yet, so if it is magic, I can't identify what kind yet.

Virog walks over to Drea, apologizes to them, and draws a portion of the length of the cloak out and gestures at it to Uori.

"Scuse'me Drea, not trying to be all up in yer business, but ah, yeah this thing. Now Uori, if'n yer starin', ah'd might't'no why. Looks a terrible lot yer style, I'll admit. Ya lose summat, er ya tryin' ta piece together one a them fashinoble sets? We done found it floatin' in some pit back yonder. Like most circumstances, fig'r it ain't a good idea to be wearin' strange magic pants. Not that these is pants, mind. Some sorta cloak, I fig'r, assumin' ya didn't know. I'm just talkin' 'bout risk is all." Virog pauses, looks at Drea, furrows his brow as he reconsiders the train of his speech, and drops the cloak and looks back at Uori "Never you mind about half o' that, We rilly just wanted ta know why this thing's so interestin' to ya"

Diplomacy, if desired: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
"Wuzzat?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

It does not include any assists, just my own bonus. Your assist would make it a 26.

"Yeah, I 'spose I kin talk t' 'em"

Virog will dictate to Drea a long and rambling diatribe about the undead that we fought, what they looked like, everything we know about them, how the guy was focused on using gillman, how he was pretty clearly killed by his own undead, and how it might be a good idea to keep an eye out for further undead.

"I dun know if ye rilly care much abut was goin' on down here, but there's was a whole muck a dead folks down in that there hallway, and they was right pissy. We broked 'em up real bad, well the rest of these folks did. I mist mostly. Coupl'a'us got cut up a'awful bit in tha doin', too. not that ya should worry, imma have fixed it. But ya should worry about tha dead folks. If ya see 'em, and they don't have no skin or meats or nuthin', beat 'em with summat flat. They're a might bit brittle, so they'll go down faster that way. Oh! And we found a dead dead guy. Not one of the fighty un's like we's was talkin' 'bout, but right proper dead. He had a journal where he talked about killin' bunches of y'all gillmen and makin more fighting undead with 'em. I fig'r he got kilt pretty good by his own dead men, so that's not terrble, but if you'd've had any druthers about it, ya might want ta keep an eye out for more dead folks, or murderin' dhampir wanderin' around. I don't much advocate for murder or the like. Make's me tetchy."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Virog spends a minute clumsily fiddling with the straps on the armor, eventually just tying it in horrid tangles of knots. He eyes the thigh bone that Drea pockets cautiously, but does not say anything regarding it.

"I fig'r Janira's dead. Or near enough as makes no difference." He shrugs, shifting his new armor, "At least she chose it, 's better that way. We should probly hustle if we're gonna save enough'a her te bury."

Everyone else who uses armour is already rocking a higher or equal armour bonus to AC: Dreya and I have +4, Shaya has +3, Saya cannot use armour.

I'll take it for now, then. After we level up next, I won't be able to wear armor, though.

Virog will fully heal himself and wait for Drea's response to jab them again.

1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5 For Virog

1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 For Drea, if they want it

I'd give the armor to someone more likely to use it. I tend to avoid the front pretty hard, so my AC shouldn't matter a whole lot at the moment.

Virog walks over to Drea, sticks the wand of cure light wounds directly into one of their open wounds, and swirls it about.
"Closer to the wound ah get it, the better it'll work, trust me."

1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

He grins toothily, satisfied with the results of the healing so far. He then crouches down next to Drea and brandishes the cure wand in their direction, pretending to be menacing them with it, "Didn't I just say that I didnae want none of y'all leaving us unwillingly? Now do ya want another tap or don'tcha?"

Virog nods and gestures with his wand, "Jus' would na' want ya t' end up leavin' us unwillingly. That does nobody any good."