Zavubak's page

Thanks for understanding and my apologies for dropping out. I expect things to slow down a little for me once the next scenario rolls around. In the meantime, I'll avoid the Gameplay thread so as not to pick up any spoilers in the case I play this again in the future :)

Enjoy the game!

Zavubak strokes his chin as the strange fey speaks in song. "A little.. odd for my tastes. But perhaps there is something valuable to learn within the songs themselves?" He considers the words intently, but knowledge of this sort never was the half-orcs forte.

A grig? She looks most strange.

Zavubak walks with a steady pace up towards the strange creature, taking a place in the back of the party. He only calls ahead to introduce himself. "And I am Zavubak. I have to wonder... are you often mistaken for a grasshopper?" the half-orc wonders aloud. It sounds like an honest question.

Zavubak shrugs. "I'd rather just head for the tower, since that's what we came for, but let's see about this story teller. Might learn a thing or two, hmm?"

Zavubak looks between the unstuck and stuck portions of the strange town. "I cannot say I've ever seen a town quite like this one..."

Approaching the Skald-speaking duo, Zavubak leaves the talking to Lazarus and Meredith, only pausing in his listening to take another long look at the strange cityscape.

"Oof," Zavubak cringes. "That sounded like it hurt, Denair. I was half tempted to just claw the thing apart, but I think that would have had the same effect, and I'd rather not be poisoned during our trip."

Zav stops ahead of the tripwire as the others spot the trap. He picks up a rock and begins sharpening his new cold iron double axe. "Wish I could help with those traps, but anyway, I'm sure Frankie's up to the task. Go on, kid."

"Hey," Zavubak places his hand on Meredith's shoulder. "The kid's seen more than he lets on, that much is obvious. Most his age would turn and run at the sight of my claws. At the blood and death. Not him."

The half-orc stands. "He's a good kid, and as long as he can't find his mother, the Society will help him find the right path to follow. Let the cocoa and checkers be his distraction from the reality of what he might see next, shall we?" He flashes Meredith a smile before he starts walking towards Frankie.

"Frankie! Care for a game of checkers?" He laughs. "And how about a little bit more of that delicious drink?"

"Shifting terrain? Hmm," Zav narrows his eyes. "And wasp poison might mean, well, wasps. Right? I've got some preparations to make. Maybe we can restock on cocoa along the way too, it would be nice to sip on during our travels." He grins.

Zav wants to pick up an antitoxin, a vermin repellant and two alchemist's fire. Am I asking too much, GM?

Stepping off the vessel, Zavubak stretches his arms and fingers out wide, each of his knuckles cracking one at a time. "I'm not all sure I can treat poisoned animals and people very well." He leans over next to Lazarus, examining a man's broken ankle. "Mind the claws," he mumbles as he gets to work helping the doctor set the injury.

Dr Zav: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Unfortunately, he gets too annoyed by the process' delicate and slow-moving requirements, and starts bloodraging, his claw gouging the patient. "O..oops..."

Zav hefts the cold iron axe. "This will do perfectly," he grins. "Give it a swing, Frankie." He holds the heavy double axe out for the halfling to take. "Use it to cut that chocolate bar in half, maybe?"

Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
"I believe I may know a thing or two as well, Lazarus," Zav runs his hand along his nails. They're sore. It's what the claws do. "Uringen’s alchemists are renowned through the Inner Sea for the ffectiveness of their elixirs and potions. The clock tower that stands in the center of Uringen doesn’t tell the same time on all its faces, and one of the faces always spins wildly out of control."

"I'm afraid I can't exactly enhance my claws with cold iron, but one day, they just might be able to get through such resistances the way your weapons do."

The half-orc scratches his chin. "Still, I should be a bit more prepared."

Zav will pick up a Mwk CI orc double axe for when he's not raging, if he's able to.

Done!

Zavubak’s resting jerk face softens when he watches some familiar travelers enter. He stands up. ”Ah! Frankie, right? You’re the one who introduced me to that hot, sweet tea. Cocoa, I believe. And Meredith is still with you, I see. Wait - you do remember me, right?”

The half-orc narrows his eyes and twists his arms in their sockets. His biceps and forearms double in size, and as red sparks flicker in his irises, two fearsome black claws form where his hands were.

He grins wickedly. ”This... might jog your memory. Oh, I am called Zavubak,” he nods to Lazarus and Yorad. ”I have a .. condition, you see.” He grabs the end of the table in one claw, the edge splintering as his grip closes.

A pleasure as always, Larry. Looking forward to the next one!

Zavubak chuckles at Ptehp's words. "For a moment, I thought you'd made him your slave, man. Sure, let's set him free. He's endured enough at the hands of this wretched alchemist."

Afterwards, Zavubak accompanies Ptehp to the Wightir, gladly offering his claws up as needed in destroying the tainted ziggaraut.

Zavubak grunts as he's injured in the same fashion he'd become so use to dishing out. "I think you need a little training with those claws, lady. You've gotta swipe under and below, then through. Like this!"

Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 171d6 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 141d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

GM, I'm quite alright with where you have placed me.
Reflex DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Zavubak watches the acid burn a section of his arm, then rushes Mazzel Gol with his claw readied, raking it across her face.
Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 221d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
"... Soon to be the Dead Lady of Death," the half-orc jokes.

Calming himself, Zavubak pulls a strange looking elongated cigar from his pack and tosses it to Pteph. "Please, do you mind tapping me with this a few times?"

It's his CLW wand
CLW: 5d8 + 5 ⇒ (4, 6, 5, 1, 1) + 5 = 22

After his wounds close up, Zav follows Gweld into the office. "I could try to move those teacups, but you can all guess what might happen. Never really been one for tiny, precise movements, man."

Zavubak grunts in pain as the weight of the sentinel's fist crushes his bones. "Whatever, man," he spits. "That blow give me all the more anger to pummel you back with."

Claw, PA: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 261d6 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Claw, PA: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 281d6 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

Begin bloodrage, HP 17/36, AC 18

Info looks good!

"Let's try this again," Zavubak says, determined to make his way through the slippery ground and join the fight proper.

Acro ACP: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (20) - 5 = 15

This time, he moves with as little grace and as much stability as a penguin, and closes the distance with the golem.

Zavubak rushes into the room, carefully tiptoeing among the ice.
Acrobatics, ACp: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (4) - 5 = -1 Hah!
... But as he steps into the room, he finds his burly figure and heavy armor ruins any possible traction he could hope to obtain on the floor, and he stays put, scowling in anger.

Kn (Arcana): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

"Hmmm... I recognize that thing. It's an ice golem, and I'm betting that it's going to react as soon as we get a little closer to it," Zavubak says, preparing to focus his rage. He steps ahead and his foot slips up, but he catches himself before falling, and he grimaces angrily in embarrassment. "Ugh. It's freezing in here. And slippery. I'm not one to complain, but I'm wishing I'd brought one of those toasty boar cloaks back from the Twinhorns' Camp."

"It is great to see you awake and alive, Blakros twins," Zavubak smirks. "If there's someone else in there who was assisting Mak, we should get back in and track her down. I have a feeling that destroying the Conjunction first may stop us from reentering, although what do I know? That's just what the wind and fire tell me," he says as he puffs on another cigarillo.

Zavubak heads back to the entrance along with the others as well. "Door smashing, artifact smashing; anything we must do to free these sisters and slaves."

Zav will also offer his strength to smash the door if needed.
Strength, bloodrage: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

"I agree with Myrd. We know what this ziggaraut does, and there is no reason to leave it here. Let us destroy it," Zavubak nods along with the Tengu, preparing his shredding claws for some stone smashing.

Zavubak does as suggested, and gives the ladies a rough shake. "Hmm, I'm not sure if this is going work." He decides to employ a little herbal stimulant, wafting the smoke into their faces. "If this doesn't work, what about smelling salts?"

Zavubak swings his claw against Uthil Mak's face.
AoO Claw, PA, Haste: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 251d6 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

"Uthil, you are as foolish as you are disgusting. You are outmatched and overpowered. Nonetheless, you refuse to surrender. For that reason, you must be taken down!" Like an angry cat, Zavubak recklessly claws at the fletchling, digging deep into Mak's chest and pulling the shadowy flesh in a neat strip off the bones.

Claw, PA, Haste: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 281d6 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
Claw, PA, Haste: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 261d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Claw, PA, Haste: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 241d6 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

Zavubak swoops ahead with an unnatural speed. Whether the boon is provided by Myrd's spell or from his own herbal concoction is anyone's guess. Regardless, he steps up next to Mak and raises a bladed claw above the fletchling's head. "You there. Uthil Mak? Hmm... Different name, same fate."

He swings his claw across the shadowy creature's shoulder, aiming to rake a swath of flesh off his bones.
Claw, PA: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 111d6 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Despite his confidence, Zavubak finds he's distracted by the sisters' beauty, and misses.

Begin bloodrage, AC 19 with Haste, HP 36/36

Zavubak similarly waits for Ptehp's cue. "A ritual chamber? This may be where the sacrifices happen." He takes a drag on his latest cigarillo, a dust of ash coating his hand. "Let's hope we are not too late. I'm afraid there won't be any sort of welcoming committee beyond that door. At least, not in the sense one would hope."

I think we could use a GM hint. Are we way off in even attempting to do this? Is this a proper logical step in what to do next, or are we spinning our wheels?

"Well, there's little else we can do," Zavubak sighs in defeat as the doors budge and the lock catches. "You will have to stay with us. It's the only way to be safe, after all. Gweld, if we leave them here, Uthil Mak may have his way with them upon his return."

"Let's see if we can lead them out of the museum, shall we? Failing that, we can't just leave them here as we found them." Zav helps the slaves up and motions towards the entrance. "Come on. You're coming with us."

"Allow us to help you. We've no reason to leave you chained up here, and you've already given us enough insight into this odd place," Zav says, clanging his axe against the chains. Sparks fly off the metal as he does so, with little damage to the restraint. "Damn it, breaking this could take some time."

Given enough time, can we not simply smash them with the efforts of those who would like to participate in doing so combined?

"Use the key and let's be on with it," Zavubak says, beginning to lose his patience. He reaches down to nab the key from the red fletchling's belt, then puts it into the lock and cranks it to the left.

"Green Tongue, what can you tell us of the shadow hound?" Zavubak asks, examining the room idly. "A green dragon hide... This place baffles me. You know, a black dragon somehow bred with one of my ancestors. It is what gives me the ability to use these claws." He runs his hand along the dragon hide. "Green Tongue, who is, or was, Uthil Mak? And what of this dragon hide?"

"If you wish for this to end, drop your weapons and throw up your white flag," Zavubak commands. "Otherwise... Well, this." Zav begins raging and swipes at the remaining fletchling with both claws.

Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 191d6 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 101d6 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

Zavubak rushes into the room, towards the far fletchling with the green hood. "I came seeking a challenge. All I found... was you." He says with a smug grin, preparing to unleash his inner rage. But he'll wait until next round to do so

Zavubak rushes into the fray, provoking from green. "You must be the administrators of the pain experiments. Let's perform a little test on yourself, shall we?" He reaches ahead with his claw, swiping at the fletchling's arm.

Claw, PA: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 191d6 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

8/11 rounds remaining. AC 18, HP 36

I think the terminology Lorenzo used is what is throwing people off. The fletchlings likely didn't "ready" outside of combat. I'd bet my last gold piece that he's simply following their Before Combat tactics (which is exactly what he should do) and that it must have said something along the lines of them ambushing you if they knew of your presence, which the fletchlings did. In essence, it's a surprise round because they're aware of you're presence and you are not aware of theirs until after you've been shot by them.

No one's out to get you, Gweld. Lorenzo is one of the fairest GMs on these boards.

Zavubak reads the sign with intrigue. "While I'm not supporting these pain experiments, I am curious about this dragonkind evolution the sign speaks of. It might also imply that there may be some monstrosity behind this door. Let's be ready, hmm?"

Allowing his claws to retreat as calm washes over him, Zav lights a celebratory smoke and exhales vertically, watching the direction the plume floats towards. "The wind and fire says east, so east it will be."

"Yeah!" Zavubak repeats after Ptehp, "Stay down for good, you bucket of bones!" He lunges ahead, trying to get the dragon's ribcage from the underside and slice the sternum holding it all together.

Claw, flank: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 9 + 2 = 191d6 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Claw, flank: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 2 = 211d6 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

"I know what it means to have once had dragon blood in your veins. Please, resume your rest at once!" Zavubak glowers, raking his claws against the skeleton's bones despite its natural hardiness against them.

Claw, PA, Flank: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 2 = 211d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Claw, PA, Flank: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 9 + 2 = 181d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

I'm assuming the dragon is within melee range.

"Friend, please, you were much more charming as a museum exhibit," Zavubak grunts at the animated dragon. "Whether its anger mirrors its recklessness in its youth or is the work of some unseen planar energy, I do not know, but let's have it returned to its peaceful state immediately." Extending his claws, Zavubak rushes ahead and swipes at the dragon opposite Ptehp.

Claw, PA, Flank: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 2 = 211d6 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Begin bloodrage. AC 18, HP 36, 10 rounds remaining.

Nope. You're thinking of making the check during combat. See James Jacobs' post.

Take 10 on Kn (Arcana) for 15
"Indeed," Zavubak nods at Ptehp. "It's an unnatural darkness. The lack of proper light is just as unsettling as this fossilized beast." Hefting his double axe over his shoulder, Zavubak runs his hand along the bones. "This isn't an ordinary museum exhibit as we'd see so in the Material Plane. It's the skeleton of what was once a young copper dragon."

GM, given that we just received our Solstice Scar chronicles, I have made some retroactive purchases for Zavubak - just a bow for now. I hope that this is okay.

Zavubak turns to Myrd as he unsuccessfully tries the doors. "We're.. Locked in. The only way out is through." The half-orc runs his hand along the plaque. "The Onyx Alliance provided trade routes through their realm in exchange for slaves. Was this Museum-equivalent used to ... Experiment on them?"

Zavubak spent the trip back to Absalom in silence. This journey had changed him, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. So long had his strong and serious disposition been prevalent that to begin using words like Man and Dude was something he didn't completely understand of himself. Yet, despite his anxiety, he didn't feel as if enjoying strange, foreign, psychoactive substances took away from his strength or power. Rather, he felt it gave him the focus he always chased.

It is why upon returning to Absalom, he immediately visited Skye's herb garden. "Do these all have the same effects, Skye? I've been wanting to learn more about my past. Surely something here must provide insight into buried memories." He passes his hand through the the leaves and stems, smelling them curiously, then steps outside with Skye to watch the sunset, nachos and dip in hand. "Man, that's beautiful. I've been called back to Blakros Museum. Some drama in the family. But for now, I'd rather enjoy this moment..." Taking another puff from the pipe, Zav stretches out on the grass extravagantly. "With you."