Zindarel, Sniper 3's page

Looks good! Thanks again! Have a nice Thanksgiving, US friends!

"Thank you kindly, Sergeant Kashenvale. I reckon our work is done here. Happy trails, pardner."
Zin gives a tip of her hat to the sarge and takes her leave.

Zin turns to her companions as they make their way to the stables.
"Well, Booker an' Doc. It's been a grand time. I sure hope to see y'all around sometime soon. It's time for me an' Zak to hit the trail and find a new gig."
Zin lifts Zak into the saddle of his goblin dog.
"If y'all ain't too busy, you're welcome to join us. I hear the folks in some of them frontier towns out in the wastes need help. The four of us make a pretty good team. No sense in breakin' up the party."
Zin says with a wink and a grin as she climbs onto her horse.

She kicks her spurs into the side of her horse and waves her hat in farewell to Alkenstar as they ride into the sunset.

Thank you, Tyranius and everyone else, for a rootin', tootin', and shootin', grand ol' time.
*Gives a tip of the cowboy hat*

Here's a question for you all:
Would any of you consider making a gunslinger for PFS?

I feel like if it wasn't for having to reload after each shot, a GS would be similar to a ranger. More of a support PC, though.

I vote for shooting from the windows. Much safer, I think.

"Thank you kindly, Doc. It'd be much appreciated to have you patch me up a bit."

"Well, I was hopin' that takin' down those main two would destroy the ones outside."
Zin makes her way down the stairs to regroup with her companions.
"I say we each just bust out a window and shoot the ones out there. Like shootin' fish in a barrel."

"C'mon, Zin. Quit makin' terrible shots. Focus."
She says to herself as she squints down the sight of her rifle.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (4, 6) + 1 = 11
Reload, taking cover from the railing.
(◆covered reload)
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (4, 9) + 1 = 14
She looks up from her gun and smiles at the holes she made in the herexen.

At the top of the stairs, Zin crouches and reloads her rifle. She slides the barrel between the bars of the railing and fires at the zombie dancer wearing a gaudy tattered red costume.
(◆covered reload)
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (8, 2) + 1 = 11
Then reloads taking cover from the railing.
(◆covered reload)

Feeling awful from her wounds and the blasts of necromantic energy, she grabs a healing potion from her pocket and guzzles it down.
minor healing potion: 1d8 ⇒ 6
She slinks away from her spot behind the table on its side and crouches as she moves up the stairs to the balcony.

◆ interact, ◆ drink potion, ◆ stride.

Awesome. Zin is gonna run up there to snipe. She'll be doing covered reload each time she loads. The GM is supposed to do a secret stealth check vs. perception for every covered reload to see if the next shot hits flat-footed AC.

Tyranius, since I never saw a secret roll for my stealth each time I did covered reload in this scenario, I assumed you were rolling it somewhere else.

Do the stairways in the corners go up to a balcony or mezzanine that looks down on the room below?

Zin gets splattered with zombie remains and rotten bodily fluids, as well as a burst of sickly negative energy.
Fortitude: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"Oooof! Ouch."
Zin cringes in pain and rubs her belly to keep from vomiting.

"Booker needs help, Doc!"
Zin shouts between gunfire and the howling of the zombies.
"Take care of him first!"

She fires at the green dancer from behind the table.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (8, 8) + 1 = 17
She quickly ducks down to reload.
(◆covered reload)
And braces against the table again for another shot.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (8, 2) + 1 = 11

That's what I suggested.

Fortitude vs Red: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Fortitude vs Green: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Just wondering, why does Zin need to make 3 Fort saves vs. Harm?

Zin reloads behind the table.
(◆covered reload)
She shoots at green dancer.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (7, 1) + 1 = 9
And reloads again.
(◆covered reload)

Zin feels a deathly cold energy wash over her.
Fortitude Red: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
"Oof."
Fortitude Green: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
"Uhhgh! My insides feel like they're rotting away."

*Barrrf!*

Feeling woozy after the necromantic blast, she calls out to Doc.
"Bust out a window and shoot at the ones outside if you're that desperate. Just don't open that door!"
She quickly wipes the vomit from her chin with her sleeve.

Zin scrunches her face in disgust at the zombie dragging its stubby leg and the dancer with half of its face blown off.
"Eww! Gross."
She manages to say before getting gaggy face.
Quickly recovering, she focuses her gun's sight on the green dancer and takes a shot.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (10, 3) + 1 = 14
She ducks down to reload behind the table. (◆covered reload)
Then quickly turns against the table for another shot.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (1, 1) + 1 = 3

Do we have hero points? I sure would like to reroll my last attack.

"Definitely not a good idea, Doc!"
Zin hollers in defiance to Doc's suggestion.
"Let's take care of the walkin' dead in here first. I have a feelin' that if we can get a hold of them Pharasmin holy symbols those creepy dancers are carrying, we'll have an easier time destroying the ones outside."
She calls out while calmly reloading behind the table. (◆covered reload)
She quickly props the rifle on the table and shoots at the dancer in gaudy green.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (4, 2) + 1 = 7
Then ducks down again to reload behind the table. (◆covered reload)

Zin was shooting at the "Herexen" (green) up on the stage. Her gun boomstick has a range of 150 feet.

Hiding behind the table, Zin peeks over the edge towards her companions and notices they are all engaged in battle. She suspects they seem to be doing well handling themselves against the undead. She peers towards the stage and curls her lip in disgust seeing the pair of undead twitching and jerking in some kind of strange dance. She squints down the sight of her gun and takes a shot at the dancer in gaudy green.

◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (7, 10) + 1 = 18

She reloads behind cover of the table,
(◆covered reload) and takes another shot.

◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
concussive: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (8, 4) + 1 = 13

Oh! Zin's attempt to hide is a secret check, btw. +11 stealth.

Staying in the shadow against the wall, Zin raises her strange rifle and fires a shot at the undead near the east wall.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
piercing: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
◇ one shot, one kill: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (5, 7) + 1 = 13
She then creeps forward toward the nearest table, then attempts to hide while reloading.

◆ stride, ◆covered reload.

Zin hightails it into the theater across the road. She gets in the corner near the windows, ready to bust one out and start shooting, if necessary.

"There it is. The theatre."
Zin says quietly as she looks out from the upper window of the café.
"We all gonna go together or one at a time? If it's one at a time, I'll stay here and keep an eye on you all."
Noticing the expensive quality of the interior woodwork and windows in the café, Zin feels around the frame. She pushes the sliding window up to open it.
"Well, I'll be darned. Looky there. No need to bust out the glass. These be some rich folks runnin' this place."

She gets down on one knee, pointing her gun out the window, and squints down the sight.
Still staring down the sight of her gun, she speaks softly.
"One of you go. Now. I gotcha covered."

She takes an eye off the sight from her rifle to look at her companions.
"Go on, git!"

Too funny, Booker. I was thinking something similar...

Hurrying through the cafe, Zin notices two tiny white ceramic coffee cups on tiny saucers sitting on a table, recently abandoned. Still filled with what looks like dark coffee, she daintily picks one up and takes a whiff of the liquid.
"Huh. Coffee? Sure smells like it."
She slugs the little cup of espresso then chokes for a bit.
"Woo-hoo! That's some bitter crap! This must be that expresso I heard them hoity-toity folk drink."
She sets the tiny cup down, shakes her head, and blows out as she begins to feel the jitters from the strong coffee.
"Phew! Nuthin' like a little pick-me-up."

After the group cracks the safe and finds the loot within, Zin glares hard at her companions from underneath her bolero.
"We better return that piercing wind to the proprietor when were done. We ain't no thieves, ya know."
She warns.

"Ooo! I like doggies!"
Zin says excitedly, distracted from the sounds of the dog downstairs. When Rickard returns with a box of bullets without the dog, she makes a pouty face.
"Aww. I wanted to pet the puppers."

Her eyes then go wide in surprise when Rickard returns with a box of bullets.
"You betcha, mister. We're here to take care of that menace out there."
Rickard shows the box of bullets to the crew. Zin reaches in, plucks out a bullet, and scrutinizes it in a beam of sunlight coming in through the window.
"You ain't bluffin', are ya, mister?"
She says, squinting a sceptical eye at the gentleman. Realizing he's serious, she gives a friendly smile.
"It's much appreciated, mister. I'll take however many you're offerin'."
Zin will take 10 bullets.

-----------------------------------

"You got them thievin' tools, Zak. Shimmy on over there and git that window open."
Zin helps Zak up into the window.
"Go on, git!"

"Hold it steady now."
Zin cautiously shimmies across. She keeps her eyes on those in the window across, fearful to look at the ground below.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Successes to Balance are critical successes instead.

"No, Zakzak. I'm sure it was going to be funny. Not this time, though. Especially when it's so dangerous."
She says in all seriousness. She then leans down and whispers,
"Wait to get one of them later.".
She clicks her tongue and winks.

She stands back up and grabs Zak's collar, pulling him to the window. She pushes the reluctant goblin up into the window frame.
"Hurry up. It's your turn...
Ugh... C'mon. Quit squirmin'."

Zin stares out the window at the horde of zombies staggering about in the streets.
"I'm purty good at being sneaky. Is that the third option?"

Zin moves to the other window and leans out to look at the clothesline that stretches from building to building. She bites her lip in dismay as she estimates the distance to the ground below.
"Yeahhh, no."
She says with a raised eyebrow.

"I get what you're sayin' 'bout that magic ladder, Doc. A safety net, of sorts.

I reckon that's our best bet. This ain't no 'ladies first' kinda thing either."
She puts her hands on her hips and shoots glances at Booker and Zak.
"Well? Which one o' you boys will be goin' first?"

Booker takes a step toward Doc and slams the stock of his scattergun towards it skull.

I read this as you attacking Doc! I was like, ”Oh no! What's going on!?!"

From behind the table, Zin fires another shot at a zombie.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15
piercing: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (3, 10) + 1 = 14
She reloads her long gun, using the cover from the table. (Using covered reload action).
She fires again.
◆ +1 mithral tree & MAP: 1d20 + 12 - 5 ⇒ (14) + 12 - 5 = 21
piercing: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (8, 4) + 1 = 13

The mithril tree has the concussive trait, btw.

"What in tarnation!?!”
Zin pushes her chair back and kicks the table over, sending pints of ale and plates of unfinished meals flying.
She grabs her gun and props herself at the tavern table for cover. She takes aim and shoots at one of the undead creatures stumbling through the door.
◆ +1 mithral tree: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17
piercing: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
◇ one shot, one kill: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Fatal?: 2d10 + 1 ⇒ (4, 2) + 1 = 7

She reloads her mithril tree, taking cover from the table.
(Using covered reload action).

"Hmmm. Not a bad idea, Zak. Seein' that we couldn't afford tickets, maybe we should try sneakin' in. Or just stand outside like Doc suggested. It was billed as some great experience so it must be really interesting."
Zin takes a swig of her cheap ale.
"You guys know anything about that playwright Melsa Aldthistle?"

Does Zin know anything about Melsa Aldthistle? Society +7.

Are we considered to have tickets or invites to the play at the theatre house?

She laughs at Zindarel. Me a shoplifter? Heavens no. I'm a Doctor remember, Doctors have the highest top paying job in Golorian, next to Lawyers, and Pathfinder FBI Agents.

*looks at Doc's character sheet.*

Zindarel breaths a sigh of relief.
"Shopping? And you went without me? Oh, well. I can get some new boots another time. Good to hear you didn't get in any trouble."
Zin raises a brow at Doc.
"You did pay for those items, right?"
She says with a wry smile in an accusatory tone.

"Rubble it is then."
She says in a gravelly voice.

My template didn't give a type of difficult terrain for the Terrain Stalker feat. Since this scenario seems to take place in a city, I chose "rubble". Would undergrowth be more appropriate for our encounters?

Zindarel rolls her eyes as Zakzak removes his head from the vase with an audible 'pop!'
"Well, you do manage to find interesting bits of junk everywhere. I won't be surprised when you happen to find a ring of three wishes one of these days."

"From the looks and stench of this place, they prolly got boiled rattlesnake in clam sauce."
She says as she scrunches her nose.
Zin rolls her eyes again in slight embarrassment as she looks at the little goblin sitting at the table like a toddler.
"Let me help you with that."
Leaning her firearm against the table, ("Keep an eye on that."), she walks over to a well-worn sofa against the wall and grabs the two small and nearly thread-bare decorative end pillows.
She walks back over and hands the pillows to Zakzak.
"Here. Place these under your fanny. Oh, look! This pillow has a little embroidered kitty-cat."
She smiles warmly at her friend.

Zin glances about the tavern then stares at the entryway in anticipation for a moment. She then turns back to the goblin.
"I'm gettin' worried, Zak. I wonder where Booker and Doc are."
She says worriedly, biting her lip.
"Trouble always seems to find Doc and I'm a-fearin' she may have gotten herself in a bit of a pickle again."
She suddenly chuckles with a smile, remembering one of the times Doc got in trouble.
"Heh. I love it when she tells that story about that one time she almost got hanged. We paid one helluva handsome bail for that one. We'll hafta pester her to tell it again when her and Booker get here... if they get here."
Her expression, once again, turns to worry as she glances at the door.

Stepping through the swinging doors of the dingy tavern after her companions, the Jinin elf stops and squints, eyeing the occupants with a scowl on her face. Blowing a lock of her long platinum white hair away from her dark eyes, she lifts her tree-shaped rifle from her shoulder and places the stock on the ground, holding the barrel for support.
Taking a whiff, she curls her lip in disgust.
"Ugh. This saloon stinks like a mildewed saddle blanket after it had been rid on a sore back hoss three hundred miles in midsummer."
She says quietly to herself.

She looks down and notices her goblin friend pawing a decorative vase on a side table next to the door.
"No, Zakzak. That vase belongs to the tavern. Leave it alone."
She chides, as he looks up at her feigning innocence.
"I reckon we oughta get ourselves a table an' take a load off our feet. I'm quite famished, too. Let's see what kinda grub they got on the menu."

If anyone wants a cleaned-up Zindarel the Sniper profile with dice expressions added, shoot me a PM.

Am I allowed to post a link to the shared file here?

Profile is done, for now. Going to look at all the new rules and such. Very interesting character. I wonder if I, to, have abilities that don't work with the given equipment, feats, etc...