Wormcaller's page

◆◆◆◆) Stride x2 each (using Act Together)

Worm and Caller exit the sandstorm

◆) Act Together to Stride
◆) Protect Companion
↺) Life Block
↺) Collapse
~) First to trigger

Worm Caller raises wards of green claws, swiping the sand out of the way!

Fortitude vs DC 15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

Removing his faceplate, Wormcaller scares the children to death, his rasping voice cold, and not unlike bone scraping against concrete.

”Stand aside, or Pain!”

Intimidation (Trained): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Bones smile in a weird show of sand-blasted teeth.

◆) Act Together to Swap Weapon (to Longspear)
◆) Stride
↺) Collapse
↺) Eat Fire

Stowing his crossbow, Caller draws a wicked spear from his effects, and joining his beast, menaces from a safe distance!

...Wormcaller, though not physically struck, doubles over in pain, which, though lessened from the ward, causes a few rib bones to none-the-less scatter onto the ground around him...

◆) Act Together to Protect Companion
◆) Stride
↺) Life Block (If 10 or more damage, to reduce damage by 10, then burn 5 HPs)

Running behind in unison, Wormcaller gets into range of the citizens, armor clanging and hunkering as bone crunches street - his own crimson symbol glowing into the shape a shield and cord attaching him to his beast.

Wormcaller allows the mortals to decide their fate…

Wormcaller turns to Herkemer "There are other murmurs as well" teeth chattering against bone "The Merchant has been pushing rumors about the Sun Orchid Elixir being smuggled through the streets to the Decemvirate"

Not that he has ever met them. But our hero's ear holes echo well within his skull.

"There were murmurs" Wormcaller's deathen voice screeches in loud whisper "of a local team named Merab Vultures. I heard them. Bearing the symbol of the Vulture, black and red"

He eyes Pallomar suspiciously "What information have you concerning these basilisk players?"

Survival (Trained) vs DC 10: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Our skeletal hero knows the way - a glimmer of his past life perhaps - was it here, in Merab? - no matter, he follows his instinct, and arrives, whereupon doing so...

Bone crunches into sand, a heavily armed and armored thing trudges forward, bereft of skin, of organs, save for a curiously coiled mass of pink wrinkes encapsulated in it's chest cavity.

It's "eyes" - mere white specks, but, imbued with the telltale glimmer of sentience - intake the rising sun over the dunes. The direction it is walking? Towards Thuvia...

"Return to dust"

◆) Boost Eidolon
◆) Act Together to Protect Companion
↺) Life Block (if 10 or more damage)

Weaving primal energies from the cavity in his chest missing organs, Wormcaller lights green energy aflame, and sends it the way of the worm!

◆) Act Together to Protect Companion
◆◆) Heal
↺) Life Block (if 10 or more damage)

Heal vs Worm Ouroboros: 1d8 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

"Mummies!"

◆) Boost Eidolon
◆) Act Together to Protect Companion
↺) Life Block (if 10 or more damage)

Nearly crumpling from the crush, Wormcaller loses a bone as he quickly retreats. Raising his skeletal hands, he draws a spiral in the air, which then glows green with primal energy, and leaving his area, gathers around Worm Ouroboros!

◆) Stride
◆) Act Together to Protect Companion
↺) Life Block (if 6 or more damage)

"Yes we are, all of us here"

"You must be the one who lit the shrine!"

”Looks about as strange as it feels” Wormcaller attempts to assuage the elf’s legitimate concern.

"Sincere apology for being late. We were briefed only recently, and arrived as presently as we could, awaiting the fall of night to avoid the midday sun" Wormcaller explains.

"Here are our permits" It was nice being chastised for something other than his appearance...

Curious, Wormcaller moves between the shade and direct sun - feels his bones alternately cool and heat - satisfying the urge to know...

...drawing a cloak over himself, he readies to leave, Ouroboros coiling back into his chest cavity.

◆◆◆) De-Manifest Eidolon

"...Six!"

"This creature is bound to me - or I to it - really, a trivial matter of inextricability - rendering our service, once again, to the Pathfinder Society!"

Wormcaller draws his heavy crossbow, and stands ready to serve.

"Given the circumstances of my being" our skeletal hero chitters between teeth "I am bothered not by the mispolite" he grins here, the expression lost due to lack of skin and facial muscle, appearing as little more than a momentary closing of his mandibular jaw.

Turning his cervical vertebra towards the fully-fleshed agent before him, he counts "Five of us so far, or rather..."

◆◆◆) Manifest Eidolon

Born less than 24 hours ago in the verysame lodge, Wormcaller takes leave outside to observe the city around him, getting lost in the bazaars and architecture of the great city itself. Contemplating his new existence, he heads to a grove and collects the detritus of fallen leaves and bones of small animals and adorns his skull with them, creating a ”headdress” of sorts, serving as a focus for his primal magic.

Coiled inside of his ribcage, something living stirs, writhing like the living guts of what might have once been flesh organs.

He turns his cervical vertebra as the next PC enters…

Heal (Rank One) vs Worm Ouroboros: 1d8 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

◆◆) Act Together to Cast Heal

Primal energy washes over the gigantic fire wyrm - it's molten flame smolders hot, restoring it's volcanic vitality!

◆) Act Together to Stow Longspear

Wormcaller stows his longspear and begins retrieving another implement...

"Beware the lurker in the back!"

◆) Act Together to Stride
◆) Point Out @ Red Scout

Holding his longspear with menace, Wormcaller points it at the distant Red figure deeper in the dark!

Stroking his Beasite on it's back, Wormcaller imbues it with primal energy, it's eyes begin to glow with a faint light, the fire inside of it's belly stoked to luminescence!

◆◆) Evolution Surge @ Darkvision

"Let us proceed inside and see what we see!" his bones chatter in excitement - he moves to open the door, pausing briefly if anyone else besides Ramona has any last-minute "quick" adjustments of their own to make!

Before entering, Wormcaller feeds Ouroboros and Haohji.

Potion of Healing @ Worm Ouroboros: 1d8 ⇒ 8
Potion of Healing @ Haohji: 1d8 ⇒ 6

He pockets the last one "I'll hold onto this"

Perception (Trained) vs DC 10: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

"I lack skill with thieves picks - perhaps we should enter through the front?"

Careful to extend the surge beyond his bone flesh, Wormcaller gathers into a central area and unleashes a vital flow of positive energy into a 30-ft radius.

Heal (Rank One): 1d8 ⇒ 3

◆) Act Together to Stride

Wormcaller moves into the center of the market place while...

◆) Act Together to Boost Eidolon

Twin magicks imbue the Worm with a larger, nastier maw, and harden it's skin into course, wrinkly flesh.

Scroll of Healing, School Item: 1d8 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Wormcaller uses a scroll to soothe the burns Worm Ouroboros sustained - their shared life force restores some of it’s twin vitality.

From just behind his bonded eidolon, Wormcaller bolsters his strength, and protects those parts most fragile.

◆) Boost Eidolon w/ Act Together
◆) Protect Companion
↺) Life Block (If 6 or greater damage)

◆◆) Evolution Surge to grant Swim Speed
◆) Act Together to Protect Companion (both AC 19)
↺) Life Block (if damage 6 or greater)

With a wave of skeletal hand, gills and fins sprout from the beasty worm's body - it twists and convulses with momentary pain before settling into it's new form!

"Harbormaster Molnesh, I am Wormcaller, here to collect the Iobarian relics for the Blakrose Museum on behalf of Curator Seshuun. Do you know where they can be located?"

From inside heavy armor, it is difficult to observe that our second chance hero is indeed without skin, obscuring his natural form and heading off any otherwise repeatedly awkward introductions!

As the party passes a graveyard on the way to the Blakros Museum, they spot a skeletal creature in heavy armor and wielding a longspear lumbering about, standing before a burial site marked with a large headstone. It turns to the party "I believe I knew this person in life - well - the one before this, my current life..."

Coiled in it's ribcage like a stuffing of gizzards and guts are the telltale creases of worm-like skin, itself alive and writhing, and glowing with a soft molten reddish-orange. The skeleton speaks again "Bound to this worm, I have been given another chance, and have been awaiting your arrival. That is, if you will accept me..."

GM - too late to jump back in? If not, also:

By the time the team has left the Nether Pyramid (the while, avoiding "eye"-contact with Zenith reciprocally), the errant worm has crawled into the center of our skeletal hero's ribcage, and swollen with perverted magic to occupy the entire cavity, curled like a breeched baby, constituting now the "guts" of the party's new companion.

"I shall take the name Wormcaller - for, as I was called from the worms and dirt, so too do has the worms and dirt been called to me" looking down to his now-filled chest "I remember not my former life, but I feel the circumstance of my new life, having brought me here, has done so for a purpose" straightening his thoracic spine from a low slouch to fully erect, fully confident, for the first time, he asks the vulnerable question of the Venture-Captains before him "Would you take me in as a recruit?"

Scandalized by Anjo's threat then subsequently humbled by Manny's offer, the nameless skeleton presides over what to do only a moment... "I must prove myself not to be a horror"... our boneshod hero thus gets to work rendering himself useful "cleaning" the place (whatever that means!) by avoiding the likes of the reanimator, the witch, and the ranger, hovering instead nearby the bard, trying his best to measure himself worthy of consideration of equivalent sapience!

"I desire my second life, yes" is his short reply, not wanting to escalate the tension his mere existence engenders.

...the errant worm, meanwhile, continues to wind it's way up his femur...

The skeleton - once an orc himself in life (visible by training in both Society and Medicine?), but forgetting that his previous ancestry is near-completely obscured by an utter lack of flesh, organs, facial expression - approaches Itka, forgetting himself, in fact, perhaps unable to recall this own physical body dimensions (let alone ancestry), beyond a vague sense of feeling as though the woman whom he approaches is somehow "safe"...

"Your heart is open despite the frown upon your face" the ability to read warm expression fully intact "I believe there has been a mistake..." and as he speaks, one of the worms from Itka's mouth begins slowly crawling up his tibula "...that has resulted in my re-awakening in my current state. Please. I mean no harm. But I am once again gifted, or cursed, with sentience. It is easily as strange to me as it is strange to you"

Seeming to remember himself now, he withdraws in a micro-expression of existential self-disgust!

...it doesn't crumble back into dust!

Feeling his own will restored to him, Wormcaller asks "Who are you? And why have you summoned me back to life like this!?" indicating his bony structure "I cannot remember what happened before this day - like a dream I suppose - but I do know that I know things..." he wriggles his limbs again, finding them spry "I do not remember my name, and suppose that I shall give myself a new one!"

Wormcaller again obeys, against his newly restored wishes, the divine manacles gripping his will to power, and yanked like a marionette, moves out of the champion's way, firing his shortbow at the hooded figure before him!

◆) Stride
◆) Strike

Shortbow (w/ deadly d10) vs Amulet: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 121d6 ⇒ 31d10 ⇒ 3

Wormcaller strides over and claws at the amulet!

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 171d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

"Release me at once!" our "newborn" skeletal hero calls towards Moonlight, whom he can feel in his mind, "yelling" non-verbally "over" his own thoughts... he perceives a lifetime before him lived and forgotten - especially it's end, like waking from a living dream, groggy to the transition, and disoriented, but slowly piecing things together... and coming to the realization implied by the question "Why have you summoned me back?" and he stares down in double horror as the sight of his own bony limbs panic his restored, still-foggy consciousness - AND - as those very limbs themselves, impelled by twisted divine magic, act independently of his own volition!

◆) Strike
◆) Strike

Claw vs Cu Sith: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 141d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Claw vs Cu Sith w/ MAP (-4): 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 6 - 4 = 171d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

"What am I?"

Given life anew, a sack of bones is reanimated into heavy mail carrying only a bow and arrow on it's back, and, reluctantly heeding the cleric of Ng's command, feels a dark orange divine energy spurn it forth unto attacking the Cu Sith!

◆) Stride
◆) Strike

Claw vs Cu Sith w/ Inspire (+1/+1): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 1 = 121d4 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 1 = 5

At Green’s surrender, Wormcaller lowers his spear...

Pointing his longspear at the Green Guard, Caller circles around with a clatter of bones, yet more pieces of his body leaving to incorporate around the giant Worm now flanking their common foe, overlapping scintellae of protective wards in the form of interposing hands and offensive bolsters in the form of reinforcing overplates girding the mass of writhing flesh and teeth through an opposite lateral!

◆) Act Together to Stride
◆) Protect Companion
◆) Boost Eidolon
+
↺) Life Block
↺) Collapse

Waving a crude implement - a common long spear scavenged from the swamp - our skeletal hero reaches a hand forth, which disconnects itself to interpose between Ouroboros and the adjacent assailant, ready to block any incoming attack!

◆) Act Together to Step
◆) Protect Companion
+
↺) Life Block
↺) Collapse

Seeing eyes on him, Wormcaller stands as rigid as a bone statue...

Caller and Ouroboros menace over the display, grotesque in their diametric dinterplay conjuring the mockery of life from both insideout and rightsidein - one a collection of hard fleshless bone, the other boneless mass of writhing guts - together frightening away any prospective spectators, inadvertently advancing the agenda of the art critique...

Intimidation (Trained): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Wormcaller stands amid the back of the group, Ouroboros coiled into his ribcage, poised like a sentry, pondering the scenes of future death.

How was it that I died?

Mere hours "old", he realizes that the memory lies behind a humid fog, just out of reach, it's wisps folded into the greater firmament beyond what he can recall with even moderate effort, hidden from view, and like a limb that has fallen asleep yet remains attached to the body, he can feel the sensations tingle with only the faintest threads of light, aware of where they could lead, dark yet at the end of an unknown tunnel, deeper still in the well of his mind...

"How was it that you died?" he finally scratches, pointing to a depected (1 Lion, 2 Tiger, 3 Bear): 1d3 ⇒ 1.