Anchorite Nogusta's page

Nogusta moves over into the back ranks of the party looking into the room and sees the duplicates of his companions. The cleric immediately thinks this must be some kind of trick, some phantom that takes the form of another, or some powerful illusion.

religion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

both of those rolls being pretty good, I will post actions based on successes. The irrelevant parts of the post can be ignored.

If successful religion determines them to be a sort of undead...

Nogusta would move in closer, further into the room in order to get in range to turn undead. (Still way too far away to make that happen)

If Spellcraft success determines it to be some sort of spell...

The cleric chants a holy prayer to Sarenrae and calls upon his goddess to remove the dark, mocking magics from the room. (Dispel Magic)

The cleric rubbed his chin in thought.
perhaps you are right, my friend. It may be better worded as, “what do they want with this tomb?

and so it seems the obvious question presents itself as...what is it about this tomb, or what is contained within, that so much death and violence would be considered necessary?

Im not much help on this one. Im pretty well lost in the game, following along for the ride and reacting to what happens. it might be a bit before I really get immersed.

it was intended as a reference to Blades of Glory, but you do know I likes my roguish charismatic characters, too...so I’ll take the bard thing with pride.

influence: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

BOOM! That’s how babies are made right there, kids!

Nogusta looks over at the stranger.

I am Nogusta, priest of the Dawnflower Sarenrae. Your test is passed and the deal is done. I would not besmirch your honor without reason, so I gather we may go about our way without further conflict as agreed. I would ask, however, in the name of honor, that we be straightforward with each other. You set yourself as an adversary, and I believe it only right that I know why, as we have never met and I do not feel that my companions recognize you, either. Who are you, and what is your trouble with our group?

The Mwangi walks forward as he speaks, hands outstretched to the side non-threateningly, but attempting to subtly shield the others from any further mischief as he attempts to walk past the man.

reflex: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

The Mwangi grunted as the spindle of stone struck him full on. With a determined gaze, he gripped his holy symbol tightly, preparing to call upon the holy power of Sarenrae once again.

Waiting for his turn and then planning to channel divinity

Nogusta went to work healing what wounded he could save.
I have 7 more uses to channel divinity in an AoE heal, so I should be able to burn one or two to stabilize quite a few fallen at once.

At Cham's question, the Mwangi stopped his ministrations long enough to give him a broad, but weary smile and respond in his careful, formal version of common.

I would definitely accompany you, if you will have me. I believe I am supposed to. I was praying to the Dawnflower for guidance on where I could best be used in her holy service, and I was suddenly filled with a powerful feeling of peace and love. Right before I ended up appearing on a bloody battlefield with your assemblage. There is much I do not know about what is going on and what has transpired, but judging by what I have seen so far, you seem to be fighting on the side of good."

The cleric pauses for a moment and closes his eyes as healing power radiates out from him again, then re-opens his eyes and looks to the group.

I'm not sure what a Khyledonia is, or what exactly just happened to all of us, but I have gathered that, at least most of you, are missing memories of your past, memories that seem to trouble you. I would like to say to you that the most important step in a journey is not the first one, nor is it the last. The most important step is the next one.
Of course, previous wrongs in the past must be set right, but they need have no bearing on what you choose to be in this moment, or any moment following. Walking the path to redemption is as simple as deciding to be redeemed.

Sorry Ive been a little slow. Medical stuff going on.

Nogusta looked around in confusion and whispered to his goddess.

So we transport again so soon? So be it, my Lady, thy will be done.

The cleric was a surprised by the sudden shift from aiding the town in crisis to standing in this peaceful valley. Nogusta attributed the location shift to his goddess and moved quickly to acceptance of the strange, new situation. The child should be safe for now with the half-orc dead, and the Mwangi had asked to be used however Sarenrae saw fit.

Nogusta nodded politely to the bearded stranger, thinking that most of the many questions springing to mind would be answered in a conversation with this "King of Khyledonia," whatever that was.

Of course, and may Sarenrae illuminate your path, sir.

With little hesitation, the cleric shakes his head a bit and strides boldly towards the pool.

Nogusta arrives on the scene and takes in what he can. He thrusts forward his holy symbol and channels the light of Sarenrae down onto the scene, bathing the area in healing light. (Using selective channel to ignore the baddies).

channel energy: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 6, 3) = 15

Ok, the map isn't making much sense to me. Are those numbers keyed somewhere I don't see? I'm going off of the "one round out" thing.

Determined to reach the others and help however he can, the big Mwangi, with his new guard companions, hustles over to arrive on the scene.

assuming my whole round is spent on movement

I think its my turn, there's not much I can do, anyway, so this can fit in anywere

Nogusta whispered prayer after prayer as he doggedly pushed forward, his large size and heavy armor being a hindrance in this situation. He only hoped he would not arrive too late to do some good.

Be with me, my Lady. Help me to be your instrument, your tool, or your weapon. Whatever your will be.

When the Mwangi approaches the guards, he holds up his holy symbol of Sarenrae. "Please, I am a servant of the Everlight. A child is in danger and may need us. Please come with me to render aid, if you can spare a few moments. Your swordbrothers wage a battle against overwhelming odds behind us, and you might do better service protecting innocent lives that remain rather than throwing away your own."

Influence: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Coughing and trying to hold the cloth in front of his nose and mouth, the Mwangi closed his eyes, whispered a prayer to Sarenrae, and stubbornly pushed forward through the smoke clouds.

Constitution Save: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 7 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 29

Nogusta's eyes watered, he coughed, and he choked as the unnatural smoke assaulted him.

fortitude save: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 11

He concentrated his mind on thoughts of a child at the mercy of savage orcs and attempted to stagger forward.

You gotta be kidding me, Paizo! See if I buy any of your new crap! Psst! 5E is better.

fortitude save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

this dice roller hates me.

Nogusta looks at the roiling, poisonous smoke in frustration.

survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

He thought about the spells at his disposal and nothing useful came to mind. Seeing what Kyt was doing, the Mwangi did the same, wetting a stole from his pack, wrapping it around his mouth and nose and hurrying through the area to minimize exposure.

Nogusta was not sure of what was happening, but one thing seemed to be clear; a child was being threatened, possibly sacrificed (under the knife) in some dark ritual to some depraved power that would enjoy such a thing. The Mwangi would not allow that to happen.

You move much faster than me, but take with you the strength of Sarenrae until I catch up.

Nousta's hand glows and he touches Liesel-Marie, the mighty warrior who was standing next to him.

An intense, but sudden and painless heat transfers from his hand and the warrior woman is infused with a surge of strength.

+4 enhancement bonus to strength for the next 5 minutes from Bull's Strength

After casting his spell, the cleric scoops up the dropped shield and hurries to follow as best he can.

Nogusta clasps hands with Nym and with a smile and a look of appreciation replies...

Thank you. I go where Saerenrae sends me, quite literally, it seems. Trunau, you say? I'm not familiar with it, but I will help in whatever way I can.

Nogusta nods to Rohan in thanks and then clasps Liesel-Marie's arm in the warrior's clasp.
I appreciate the sentiment, and accept your thanks in the name of the Everlight. It is she who sent me here, and my spells are but humble requests for her intercession.

Seeing that the conversation may be leading towards further battle, Nogusta will pop another channel to try to better top off those who might still be a few off of max.

channel: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 5) = 10

Nogusta turned back from the barricades as the defenders were getting overwhelmed by the orcs. The Mwangi looked up at the heavens for a moment.
Blessed Lady, if this be the day I walk by your side I welcome it.
Nogusta took a deep, calming breath and prepared to move back out to the courtyard and save as many of these brave souls as he could. Before he could act, however, the reinforcements arrived; battle-hardened militia who looked more than capable of finishing the fight.
With a heavy sigh of weary relief and a silent, smiling prayer to the Dawnflower, the cleric turned to the group as they made their way to the defensive position.

The circumstances did not allow a proper introduction when I arrived. I am Nogusta, a servant of the Blessed Dawnflower, Sarenrae. I was praying to my Lady to guide me in the way I could be most useful in her service, and found myself suddenly here. I can see that your group is brave and capable, and am proud to have stood beside you in defending this town...which is called...?

Nogusta's voice is deep and soothing. His words are accented, and every syllable seems to be pronounced carefully and formally, showing that he learned the language in a classroom or under tutelage. The cleric's speech begins with a broad smile and ends with a look of confusion as he realizes that he has no idea where he is. He leaves the final question hanging and causes yet another channeled pulse of warm sunlight to radiate from him.

channel: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 4) = 11

Nogusta can actually do that 6 more times before going into his spells. I don't know the exact amounts of healing everyone needs, but he would be willing to top everyone off with channeling in case we need to jump back into the fray and flank the orcs after our breather.

As the wave of orcs crashed past the outer barricade, Nogusta heard the defenders talk about moving behind the inner barricade to strengthen their position. The cleric flew up and backwards towards the inner barricade and another wave of healing light pulsed out from him.

Channel Energy: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 6) = 13

Should be able to catch that whole line of peeps and make progress towards the barricade, since the healing should bring LM back to being able to move normally.

Due to a conversation with the DM, I have learned I was short one die on the channel energy...everyone who was adding the 7 damage from the channel should also add...

one more die to the channel: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Nogusta hears the shouting outside of the gate and knows that the another wave of orcs is on the way. He shook the rain off of his clean-shaven head and flexed his wings to throw off the droplets...
my WHAT? Wings?
The Muwangi looked up at the sky and whispered a prayer of wondering bewilderment for the strange blessings of the Dawnflower and flapped the wings hard, leaping back a few feet and landing just a few feet behind the largest cluster of defenders. He thrust his shield forward, and the emblazoned angelic ankh erupted in a golden yellow light that pulsed outwards around him.

channel divinity: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7

if I’m reading it right, if Nogusta moves a couple squares to the right and up he can actually heal the entire group and use selective channel to ignore the baddies.

A concerned expression crossed Nogusta's face as it appeared the tide was turning against the defenders. He looked over at the surrounded guard captain and his wounds. The cleric saw a clear path and stepped around to where he could lay his hand upon Frum. With a prayer to Sarenrae, his hands started to glow with a yellow light and he touched the guard captain.

cure moderate wounds: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (2, 7) + 4 = 13

The glow passed from the cleric's hands to Frum, basking him in the warm glow of the sun.

Nogusta considered his options. Any spell he cast would leave him open to attack from the nearby orcs. Channeling the power of Sarenrae might heal the attackers, it was too indiscriminate, and there were just too many orcs.
For Sarenrae!
The cleric's scimitar added a ringing note to the song over the battlefield as it cleared Nogusta's scabbard and slashed across the body of the nearest orc attacker.

scimitar attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
scimitar damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

For my movement I would like to...

After the elven woman is healed, Nogusta steps forward, interposing his large, armored form between the orcs and the wounded Kyt, attempting to prevent them from attacking her in a prone position.

Nogusta did not know the story of what was going on, but he knew enough to know it was a time for action. He thought about the people of this strange town, and in less than a second, overlapping images crossed his mind in rapid-fire succession as he imagined the townsfolk and remembered his own village.

Two small children were chasing each other through the streets, laughing and pretending to be mighty dragonslayers. The sound of their play was interrupted by the horror of the guttural war cries of the orcs as they burned and slaughtered their way through the town…

We were running through the jungle, just within earshot of the village. Little boys armed with sticks, pretending to be great hunters after the mythical Bagh-kahn. The sounds of screams pierced the air, followed by barked orders and laughter as the Consortium slavers set about slaughtering the adults and capturing the children in weighted nets…

His mind flashed back to reality, to the here and now. No. Not here. He thought.

He knelt beside the injured elven defender.

There is still a fight to fight, warrior. You are needed.

A warm, golden glow surrounded the Muwangi’s hands as he touched Kytynna’s wounds. The glow spread from his hands to envelop the elf.

cure moderate wounds: 2d8 + 4 ⇒ (7, 5) + 4 = 16

I know it s a bit meta, but I have been reading through a bit while I wait on the initiative to roll around for my action, and I have to say some of you guys have done some fantastic and creative writing. And “Blayde”, you haven’t missed a beat since back in the day...your games always played like an action movie. Good stuff!

Nogusta looks at the other defenders battling the orcs for the sake of the town and says:

I can help your friend! Keep those orcs away from her and I will heal her!

Greetings, all.
I’m new to Pathfinder, I went straight from D&D 3.5 to D&D 5th, because 4th was garbage. So..be gentle with my edition lag. I’m not new to PbP games, but it’s been awhile and I’m new to this particular format. I should catch on quickly, though, and look forward to some great games!

Nogusta blinks with surprise as his prayer is so quickly and dramatically answered. He takes in the situation quickly, his strange blue eyes scanning the battlefield. An orc horde attacking a village and a brave group of adventurers holding the line. He sees the elf lying before him, injured and in dire circumstance. Nogusta mouths a quick word of thanks to the Dawnflower for giving him an opportunity to serve her.