Volco Sissorba's page

Sapiens here.

I'm going with this Tiefling Tinkerer Alchemist, who can be a spy by proxy and a firebomber. Molotov cocktails to feed the flames of revolution!
Variant abilities: 1d100 ⇒ 74
Variant abilities: 1d100 ⇒ 74
Animate object, the dice really wants me to take this. And it fits the theme.

Variant features: 1d100 ⇒ 37
Variant features: 1d100 ⇒ 24
Animate hair or smoking eyes, think I'll go with the hair.

It's Volreg who left! Not me!

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

"What in blazes was THAT?" Volco yells as Ungebrochen's shade appears, shocked for the first time since you've met him. As Sara opens the door, he focuses on what lies beyond.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Sorry, man, we'll miss you! Get well soon!

"Can't really sanction choosing comfort over knowledge, but I guess hot water could help. Can sanitize wounds, make herbal infusions. After that, I say we head for the library. The sooner we make sense of all of it, the sooner we can deal with it."
Taking his alchemy kit out, Volco starts brewing something. "Give me some time to prepare, please. We need to be ready."

Brewing a Dexterity mutagen.

After the patient is sedated, VOlco strolls over to Winter.
"I have questions as well. Of course, as Ungebrochen said, I'd like to know why I'm here without any memory. Who I am is less important. M rationality and my knowledges are intact, I care little about memories and feelings."

"Oh, and about the library, likely the most important place we could be. Adria mentioned some sort of evil presence, like an eye. Know anything about it?"

"Can calm him, alright."
Taking the isopropyl alcohol, Volco sprinkles it over a rag and presses it over Loic's nose. It was used as an anesthetic, not as good as ether or chloroform but it should work.
"I can see two possible causes for the hallucinations." he says, ignoring Loic's thrashing. "It may be some effect of the mist, or he may actually be hearing her. We've ment with undead creatures earlier on, he may be hearing from across the veil."

Grapple?: 1d20 ⇒ 15

"Lend a hand? I surely can lend a hand. Just give me a place to set up shop. Name's Volco Sissorba, I'm a trained medical professional. Of sorts."

Volco moves towards the agitated man, taking some valeriana root out of his thousand pockets.
Taking 10 on Heal for a 15.
"What's happened, Nurse? Are there any recurrent symptoms? Any undeath phenomena?"

"To the chapel, then back, than forward again, this is so, so disorganized."
Quaffing a vial, Volco starts running at double speed towards the chapel.
Drinking an expeditions retreat extract.

"Sounds like a good idea. I could go instead, I can brew a concoction to make myself faster, but I wouldn't want to risk my hide. So I applaud your bravery! I'll make sure to jot down some notes on any effect the mist might have on you."

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

"No, nope, no way. Not only don't I have any silvertongue on me, but there's mist everywhere. Isn't there some other way?"

It appears that Volco is speaking of the silvertongue drug, and he seems to be acquainted with it.

"Oh, I don't know what could be done. Possibly I'll find out what turned him into that thing. Or a cure. Or something unstable and explosive. Since it was apparently in an intermediate state between nigredo and rubedo, it could have volatile and corruptive properties, provided the principles didn't fragment. But I'd need to test it on something living to be sure."

"Wait, wait, I want samples."
Fishing two flasks from his pocket, Volco picks up blood and flesh samples from the slain horror, keeping an eye out for any valuable items near it.
"No need to let it go to waste. At least now it may be useful. So, is the chapel this way?"

"Keep your distance, it's dangerous in close contact!"
Volco rushes behind Seara, trying to help her break free of the horrid tentacle.
Escape Artist, Aid Another: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

I'm here, wherever "here" is.

"What a waste. A scholar could learn so much from this creature, and here I am, killing it with fire. I'm ashamed of myself."
Despite his shame, Volco throws a bomb at the writhing viscera, aiming to the far side to avoid hitting Seara.
Attack against touch AC: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

It was just a rock before, I'm saving my bombs right now and there's plenty of debris around, from what I understand. Also, apparently no one of us as a rank in Knowledge(religion), which is kind of an useful skill when dealing with the undead.

"Does ANYONE know ANYTHING about the undead? Do we just kill this putrid pile of viscera?"

He throws yet another rock, this time at the guts.
Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

"Aaaaargh! Where are necromancy professors when you need them? If you're in the way I'll hit you with my bombs, take care!"
Not wanting to risk burning the two fighting ladies, Volgo throws another piece of rubble at the other hand.
Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Another crit?: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1
Crit damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

Knowledge(religion) is nice against haunts, if someone has it.

Volco sighs. "It pains me to destroy such an uncommon specimen, but it's not my field and we can't very well carry him with us to a university."

Grabbing a large piece of rubble, he pelts it at the monster's head.
Attack (Throw Anything): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Critical Rock: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
Crit damage (should it hit): 1d4 ⇒ 4

Well, the sound of us loudly fighting/bombing/casting provides a nice cover for shooting in the weak points.

Boy, nice bonuses, but losing spellcasting is HARSH.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Intelligence: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Volco steps forward, though still keeping its distance from the horrid abomination. "I believe he's dead, my dear. Did you know him?"

He turns towards the others. "Yes, Madam... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, it's weird is that the central part of its body looks lifeless. Now, that's not my field of expertise, but... but that's uncommon. At least I think. Anyway! He's buried, so we may easily just move past. Unless, of course, he has some new exciting way to kill us all."
He whips out his notepad and a pen.
"I'll jot down his actions. Who wants to go first? Madam Swordfighter, you seem eager, but please try not to die."

"Why, thank you, Adria. If the chapel is a safe place to sleep, would you mind showing us the way? I'd like to get to a safe place. Or to a library, if there's one." We need to understand things. Where we are. Who we are. Why we are here. I have faint memories, but not enough. Then there's the fog. And Scaen's psychosis.

Well, probably not. I've had my fair share of psychotic girlfriends, and it's not something I'm eager to replicate >.>

"She suffers from delusions, something harmed her mind. I don't think we're in any danger from her, but don't let your guard down."

Stepping closer, Volco hands her the doctor's coat. "I'm someone who can make you feel better, Adria." And if I can't, I can study her, to make someone else feel better. "Put this on and stay here, we'll come back and take you someplace safe."
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
Turning to his comrades, Volco whispers again. "Yellow fog, like the dream and the doctor. Wild guess, some sort of psychoactive agent that claws at your mind and turns you ravenous. Let's not go outside until we know something. How about we search the chapel?"

Unless Narcizia need something, Volco grabs all the items, stuffing them in the hundred pockets littering his overcoat. "Formaldehyde to preserve, alcohol to burn, always something you need."

As they get in sight of the naked woman, he looks at her with detached interest. "Possibly dangerous, possibly a victim. Careful."
Removing the doctor's coat, he approaches her, keeping at a distance, trying to get hints of what causes her ramblings.
Heal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

"Yellow smoke... citrinitas. Just like the dream. I say we check this room better, then try to leave if we have no alternative."
After setting his armor properly, Volco searches the rest of the room (the furnace and what looks like a cupboard on the top left on the map).
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
"Leaving here is imperative. We are obviously in jeopardy. Finding out where we are is secondary, but still important. As is finding out the cause of the amnesia. There are several drugs that can cause it, but it should be somewhat temporary... although the use of narcotics might explain how she managed to keep us in check, Tyrithe."
He pulls a tuft of his bleach-white hair and looks at it. "Huh. Not hazemind, though, or I'd be seeing rainbows. Dreamtime tea? Would explain the shared dream, but I don't feel the taste. Anyway, leaving is the matter at hand, later I can make some sweets and we can try. That cloud... If I remember correctly, dwarves are resistent to poison. What did you say your name was?" he suddenly asks Ungebrochen.

I slightly re-specced Volco, he now has the Chirurgeon archetypes, I believe that it makes more sense.

Reaching to Narcizia, Volco looks closely at her neck, trying to determine what the crazy doctor injected into her. "Stand still. If that's poison, moving will harm you. Let me check..."
Heal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6 Wow! It must be lemonade! How nice!
"Uhm, no, can't quite help, I don't recognize it. Call me if you have any symptoms."

Looking at Scaen's body, Volco grabs the coat and the badge. "I've studied medicine, I can pass as a doctor at a first glance. Hope nobody says anything about the blood. On the other hand, she definitely looks unusual."
Grabbing a journal, he jots down all he can find out about Scaen's corpse.
Heal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
Knowledge(arcana): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Knowledge(nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

Yeah, I was waiting for some more people with a higher initiative count to act. I'll probably throw the scalpel tray, then the club, then I'll have to resort to pelting her with my pans and pots.
Next level I'll get the Precise Bombs discovery, luckily.

I'm hoping that Ungebrochen doesn't run towards the Doctor.
"Hey, Doc, pop quiz! What do you get when you add aether salts to a scarlet crow - viridiana infusion?"
Putting together the ingredients, Volco side-steps and hurls a vial at the Doctor. Breaking upon impact, the content ignites in a fireball.
"The answer is burned! You get burned!"

Attack(touch AC): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
If I missed, or if someone's adjacent to her, splash damage is 4 with a DC 13 Reflex save to halve it.

I have the Throw Anything feat, I should not take penalties for improvised weapons. However, I forgot that some bonuses apply to splash weapons only, so it would be only a 14

Alright, seeing people too close, I'm not using the bomb, I'm throwing a scalpel. Attack modifier is the same (Throw Anything), though not agaist touch AC, damage is likely 1d4 (improvised weapon)

"YES!" shouts Volco, finding all his alchemical reagents in the sack. "Viridiana, the four cromatic crows, the three forms of aether, miragnesia, bloodfire and devil's silver, it's all here!"
He pockets all the reagents, then starts donning hastily his chainshirt. My AC is 15 until I can have a minute to put it on properly. "Careful, I'll start slinging fire once she arrives, try to keep some distance!"

Reading an action to throw a bomb at the doctor once she arrives.
Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Attack (against touch AC): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9 If I miss her, splash damage is 4

Sure, some rivalry could be nice, after all we're almost opposite in alignment. Rest assured, I won't act first against anyone in the party

Only the thought of the insane doctor nearby stops Volco from laughing fragorously. "It's good practice, you know, to make sure you know what you're talking about. Curarin is one of the strongest anesthetics I know, the most humane way to block pain. And her methods being sloppy meant that there was no purpose, no reason behind that death. Whereas, had he been the needed sacrifice to save others, it's sad but we have to do what needs to be done. Once we get out of here I'll be glad to discuss ethics and morals, for the time being get off my back."

"And why are you so sure it's not human?"

Volco looks at Tyrithe with an eyebrow raised. "First of all, I am not insane, thank you. I just know firsthand the price of knowledge. Sacrifices are acceptable for a right cause, this... this is not. This is useless slaughter."
"As for my second point, you could have opened the door earlier, getting her attention and possibly saving him. You didn't, you hesitated, perhaps for the best, perhaps saving our lives. Not my place to judge. But don't come tell me that my attitude is unhealthy. I'm mourning that his death was so needless and meaningless."
Volco is not a sociopath. Oh, he wishes he was, it would be so much easier to do what needs to be done...

Volco grabs a scalpel, if there are remaining, and any spare if there are more than seven. Then he pockets them and takes the tray. He briefly considers cutting the corpse's head to throw, but he doesn't. Not the right tools to sever a spinal cord.

"Anything in the sacks? Oh, by the way my name is Volco. Volco Sissorba."

"No, not like that. She didn't keep a record, didn't write down hypotheses and data, and look at the filthy conditions of the place. You can't do science like this."

"Ratsteroids", heh.
"Blood of the ancients, who kills a person like that? What a waste!
Oh, well. Should we get out of here? I much prefer to be the one in charge of the experiments, rather than the guinea pig."

Are there any stones or heavy objects to throw?

Volco shakes away the last remnants of the dream, squinting at the weird scene in front of him. Wish I had my glasses.
"Being together in the cell as we were in the dream, beyond coincidence. But it's not just torture. That cut was cleanly along the quadriceps."
"Hey, Doctor! Are you dissecting him? If so, I recommend curarin to paralyze the muscles, you'll cut cleaner!"
As he's giving advice, Volco looks around, looking for stones or any other object blunt and hard enough to throw.

Will Save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21 Nice start.

1
"To sleep, perchance to Dream; aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. But I'm not dead yet."

2
Taking to memory the appearance of the Tatterman, Volco spreads his arms and lets himself fall backwards. But instead of hitting the ground, he's jerked away from the dream, getting back to reality.
Or is it? He pinches his nose and tries to blow air through it. Reality check. Then I look around.

"Well, it only makes sense that in a dreamscape we should meet a creature from our nightmares. Running... Yes, running seems a good option. We can run but we can't hide. And I can run pretty fast, should need arise. On the other hand, it's seven of us against one monsters. And where would we run?"

"A predator in the yellow mist? The color could mean a xanthosis process, or citrinitas. Should we need to defend ourselves, I'll need aether salts to combine with viridiana and scarlet crow as a catalyst..."
trying to will into existence bomb components.

A lanky young man with wiry glasses and an angular faces, Volco looks at his companions. "A dream, eh? Rarely figments of my imagination would admit to being in a dream, so it may be the truth. And perhaps it is somehow a shared dream. Hello then. Or did I take mindhaze again?"
He turns to the shop door and fiddles with the lock.
Disable Device: 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 6 - 4 = 15
It clicks open, and Volco peers inside.

Wow, three Europeans in a game, that's a record!

We can start anytime, I'm in Europe so time zones are a bit weird with me. But I basically live by the computer.

dot dot dot

Oh, no, I would never add cheese to a character. I totally would. But it would be for experimenting, and for the betterment of mankind.

Congratulations to you all, have a great game and don't forget, the pelvic thrust causes Sanity damage! See you around!

*grabs an inordinate amount of spices for a bake-off*

Oh dear, I have blond hair. And so, the Lovecraftian Horror Adventure Path evolved in the PCs singing "madness takes its toll" to Nyarlathotep.

Come on, so soon? I wanted to wait at least a few hours!