The construct sees much streaking in and lashes out with an attack...
...that is a beat too slow to catch up to Haunt's enhanced speed.
It steps over Much's attempt to trip it, but can't escape Haunt's strike from the side, wood smoldering underneath his heated blade.
Then it lashes out with attacks of its own.
Unable to land any attacks, it raises a shield in defense.
Initiative
1. Sicklehand (Destroyed)
2. Haunt <--We are here
3. Much
4. Shieldbearer - 9 Damage taken, Shield raised
Haunt's fur puffs out, making him look bigger and bulkier. He leans in towards the Shieldbearer Suit and hisses, bearing his teeth, then stabs at its thinnest joints twice in rapid succession.
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The pilot flinches as Haunt threatens him, and his construct pauses for just a moment. But a moment is all it takes. Haunt aims his burning rapier at the arcane cabling connecting the legs to the torso at the hips. Two lightning quick thrusts later, and a surge of power thrums audibly out into the crowd and light begins to build within the construct.
Mafika yells, "NO" extends a hand and siphons off some of the building energy. In the arena, the impending explosion fades, and the construct falls into 3 pieces, each leg detaching from the main body.
In just a few seconds, you have dramatically decimated your opponents and the crowd ERUPTS into applause. The leshy within the construct has a dewy sheen of sweat on his brow as he pulls himself from the wreckage.
As you leave the field, chants of "HAUNT-ER!" and "MUCH!" ring out.
The next couple matches don't go nearly as well for the students. Hasti and his partner are out of spells, and get tripped and swarmed with haste. Haibram and Mariama have a bit of bad luck as one of Mariama’s strikes causes the construct to implode in a burst of branches that knock her and Haibram unconscious (leaving a shocked sicklehand as the lone victor).
I believe you have only lost one point of damage on Haunt, but Maddox will use battle medicine to top you off.
Haunt strolls around the outside of the arena while they wait for the final line-up to be announced, chatting here with a professor here, sharing some water there with a couple of the students who washed out in the preliminaries. If any of the leshies who competed in the earlier rounds are still watching the tournament, the amurrun will make a point to congratulate each of them on the craftsmanship of their constructs. Through every conversation, he tries to pick up any intelligence, gossip, or rumor about who their opponents will be in the final round.
Much tries her best to mimic Haunt, speaking to the students Haunt misses.
You're cool, Much, very cool. Just play it smooth...
Much is not as cool as she pretends to be.
Haunt does some very quick rounds, his newfound celebrity paying off right away, as the leshy, Blackleaf, spills all the beans.
"You'd better be ready! Next round we pull out the big boy, the Bramble Champion. I'm not even rated to pilot that thing." Blackleaf says with excitement and a touch of disappointment. "But I think you can take it, even if it does have an entourage."
She lets you know that the Bramble Champion is Large and even more nimble, sturdy, and powerful than the Shieldbearer. It has no shield and no AoO, but can still use its giant maul to protect the three sicklehands that accompany it, if they are within reach. It has all the same weaknesses and immunities as the other constructs (weak to crits and fire/3; Immune to all the mental, death, non-leathal stuff).
The time is almost up, and you head back towards the field. The crowd is huge now, and you see many of your friends. Ignaci makes eye contact and hustles over to you both.
"Hey, great job in there. Got a proposition for you," he says, pantomiming an explosion with his hands. "For three gold, I'll sell you an Alchemists Fire. I've seen Haunt here burning these guys, and figure this might be useful." He raises an eyebrow waiting for a response.
"Thanks, Ignaci. We'll take it. Just throw and duck, right? The splash is what, five feet or so?"
Haunt hands over the gold and weighs the bomb in his hand. "I don't know. It seems weird to throw something like this right at a wooden contraption with one of our classmates stuck inside. Maybe I should wait for a chance to catch a few of them in the splash, then aim at an open space in the middle? That way, several of the suits get weakened at once, but nobody catches fire and starts with the burning and screaming."
"Or you could take it. I'm already doing some fire damage, so this would give you a chance to get in on the fun. Up to you." He offers the vial to Much.
Much looks at the vial with wide eyes.
"Fire isn't a weapon we use frequently on the savanna. Too risky. I suppose here we have the teachers to protect us...
All right. I'll give it a shot."
With the combatants ready to go, Mafika introduces the final match.
"I want to thank you all for coming out today - To train and to support each other," he begins with his some conversationally booming oratory style. "This is not just a spectacle, though there is nothing wrong with appreciating martial prowess. This is how we stay ready to defend our homes, and the people outside this school who depend on us. Vigilance is not enough. Awareness of a threat is important, but the threats we will face require more than just observation. More than just study. They require honed bodies, brave hearts, and purposeful actions."
He looks to both sides, and raises his arm. Perhaps it lingers a bit longer than normal, and the crowd goes silent, holding their breath. The large, maul-wielding, construct bangs the butt of his weapon against the ground, sending an impatient THUMP.
Mafika drops his arm, yells, "Hajime!" and vanishes from the arena. The last fight begins.
Initiative
1. Much <-- We are here
2. Haunt
3. Sickle #2 (blue dot)
4. Sickle #1 (red dot)
5. Champ
6. Sickle #3 (green dot)
Much scowls at the number of enemies, the just-out-of-stone reach distance and the awkward vial in her hand. Haunt's unerring ability to decimate enemies is the only bright spot she can find.
Nothing to be done about the odds, this fight won't win itself.
With a bomb in one hand and her stone rope loose in her other, Much steps forward to increase her chances of hitting, even if just a bit.
Much wipes her palm after tossing the bomb, happy to be rid of it. She hefts her stone-rope in both hands and scuttles back to force the enemies to come to her.
The Bramble Champion reaches out to try and knock the bomb out of the air as it sails towards the sickle hand, and misses by the barest few inches. The fire hits its target and damages the constructs all around.
Round 1
Initiative
1. Much
2. Haunt <-- We are here
3. Sickle #2 (blue dot) - 8 damage, burning
4. Sickle #1 (red dot)
5. Champ - 4 damage
6. Sickle #3 (green dot) - 4 damage
"Good throw, Much!"
Still under the effect of his longstrider scroll , Haunt jogs in a long loop around the leshy battle suits, avoiding any potential attacks of opportunity until he finally closes with the Bramble Champion from behind.
"Don't you think that naming your suit 'Champion' before the tournament has even started comes off as a little arrogant?"
With that, the amurrun lashes out at the giant construct with his blade while making mystic patterns in the air with the amulet in his other hand.
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Laesah watches the spectacle of the combats with her mouth agape.
"I want to thank you all for coming out today - To train and to support each other..."
Laesah looks down at the neglected clipboard in her hand and feels shame as her dorm-mates Haunt and Much battle it out with the massive leshy construct. Blinking furiously and scrubbing a hand across her face, Laesah raises her voice in a cheer.
"Go MUCH! Go HAUNT(er)!!!
I've been selfish. My friends need me, and though I'm not there on the battlefield, I can be there in spirit.
Laesah starts up a rhythmic tapping on the clipboard to go along with her repeated cheer.
The crowd slowly starts to pick up the chant.
The constructs swarm out, finding flanking partners and lashing out.
The Blue Sicklehand continues to burn and the pilot flings themselves from the cockpit and runs from the battle. Red runs out to set up a flank on Much, rushing through the reach of the Stone Rope...
...and suffers the same fate as the last Sicklehand to try and get into the gnoll warrior's blind spot. The stone rope flashes out, and the Sicklehand explodes into splinters. The pilot rolls out of the construct and runs off, joining the blue pilot on the sidelines.
The Champion, shrewder than his smaller partners, waits a beat while the Green sicklehand sets up a flank and tries to knock Haunt down...
Perhaps it's the stress of seeing Much one shot another of the Sicklehands, but Green loses balance and topples over, spending its last action to stand back up.
The Champion scoffs, shrugging off the Keystone Coppery of their compatriots and says to Huant, "Arrogant? Perhaps. Let's see which of us has earned their moniker."
The giant hammer spins around and comes crashing down in a series of overhead smashes.
Haunt is able to absorb some of the blows with his amulet, and sidestep the last attack, but 15 non-lethal damage still gets through.
Much catches the stone head of her weapon absent-mindedly; eyes locked the sight of half the resistance scattered in seconds. The cheers of the crowd and Haunt's plight bring her back to the battle.
She leaps forward to join the fray and discombobulate their foes.
"Arrogant? Perhaps. Let's see which of us has earned their moniker."
Haunt spits blood and grins back at the leshy pilot when he realizes that Much has moved in to flank the self-proclaimed Champion. "Sure, let's see. But one of us has been fighting all day and one of us..."
”… well, one of us hasn’t.”
The green sicklehand has learned from her exploding peers and slows down to safely get into flanking position with Much and attempt a trip.
With Much on ground the Champion moves into position to deliver some hammer blows, incurring an attack of opportunity from the disadvantageous position.
Much lands a solid shot from the ground, and the Champ replies with a vicious slam. Haunt's amulet flares and a protective force absorbs some of the blow. The next attack from the Champion misses the mark.
Initiative
1. Much - 24/32 HP; Prone, Flat-footed <-- We are here
2. Haunt - 11/26 HP
3. Sickle #2 (blue dot) - Destroyed
4. Sickle #1 (red dot) - Destroyed
5. Champ - 32 damage
6. Sickle #3 (green dot) - 4 damage
The Champion's blow hits Much right on the shin and really smarts. She bites back a curse and rolls to her feet. Having her enemies so close is not ideal, she'll need to address that.
Much gets to her feet and sends the stone rope flying. It makes solid contact and bounces off of the cockpit of the wooden construct, sending huge cracks through the structure.
"I yield." The Bramblethorn Champion mutters, sullenly. The pilot nods to Much, casts a sour expression to Haunt, then stalks off the field.
The green sicklehand nervously waves its sickles, ready to finish this fight.
Haunt limps around in a half-circle to approach the sicklehand opposite Much .
Pretty sure I've got a cracked rib there on the left, gods that's painful. He winces from his injuries, but forces a smile and waves his blade at the crowd as he jogs across the arena.
As he closes in for what the amurrun hopes will be the final blow, he tries to think of an appropriate quip, but a sharp stabbing pain in his side from the broken rib focuses his attention on taking down the construct quickly, so he can go to the infirmary.
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The Sicklehand tries to mount a defense, but Haunt is too fast - too accurate. The first strike stabs through the wrist joint of upraised sickle, severing the limb and sending it spinning to the ground. The construct spares a glance at the stump and Haunt runs it through, damaging the internals and powering it down. The shoulders slump and the pilot grimaces.
The fight is over.
Mafika enters the arena and strides out to Haunt and Much, taking each by the hand.
"Our winners of the first Combat Society are... Haunt and Much!" He raises the hands of Much and Haunt in victory, and the crowd cheers. Looking out into the crowd it's clear that the "secret" nature of this event is gone, with dozens of students and staff looking on and applauding.
Teacher Ayuwari reaches into his robe and pulls out a small statue, carved to look like a canine. He hands it to Much and says, "As the MVP of this event, I present you this onyx dog wondrous figurine. You cannot fight what you cannot see. Well, you can, but it's very frustrating. This will help you find your enemies."
The applause carry on for a bit, but with the fighting done, people start to file out. Esi approaches you and says, "That was amazing. Well done! But just know that I intend to win the next one."
She looks at Haunt with a bit more seriousness, and says. "You have an amazing capacity for destruction. It seems both instinctive AND skillful, but your boldness almost got the better of you. We should study and train together. As future members of the Tempest-Sun Mages, we will be fighting side by side some day." The adopts a wry grin and says, "It would be nice to learn how to coordinate our attacks and defenses now, so we can avoid the blaze of glory you seem to want to die in."
Haibram and Mariama amble over. Haibram says, "Yeah, let's leave the blazes to Mariama. It's her specialty." Mariama punches him in his wounded arm and he winces, but laughs.
Off to the side, out of the way but positioned near you, is Ignaci, surreptitiously selling his alchemical wares to a couple of strix. You overhear him saying, "...I'm something of an unofficial sponsor, really. I provided them with that alchemist fire that turned the battle around. And now, you can use the same gear they did!" You see him hand the male strix a potion with H&M painted on the side, and hands a couple healing potions with the same logo to Haunt and Much - enough to top off their HP.
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Much accepts her onyx puppy with shaking, bent ears of excitement.
She is thrilled.
As the crowd walks away, Much addresses her two compatriots.
"We did well, but that was much closer than I would have hoped for. I didn't even think to use my new magics, not once. Hopefully we'll find to practice with Esi and the others before we face any more gremlins, or towel monsters!"
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"You both were AMAZING!" Laesah gently hugs Much, then Haunt.
"I am so proud of you two and I feel that I owe you both an apology. Even if I don't fully condone violence, I do think that the value of defensive training out-weighs that naive attitude. I've already started sparring a bit with Esi ---" here, the anadi nods with a smile at their Zenj friend, "----and I think that a sparring group with a tournament like this as regular demonstration of evolving skills is a cool idea."
Laesah bounces on the balls of her feet and beams at her bruised and bloodied colleagues.
After the big fight, school settles into a bit of a routine, and the first exam rolls around! Time for a STUDY CHECK!
Laesah, during your study time, Haibram approaches you, grinning, and says, "I don't think it'll help now, but if you ever need to cram in the future, I'm yer man. Flyin' by the seat of my pants is a bit of a point o' pride, and I'm a marvel at it."
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Maddox has been a little distant lately but hopes he and his colleagues get through their first exams successfully.
For his exam, Haunt performs a dramatic reenactment of the tournament victory. The part about Much and the alchemist's fire, in particular, is a big hit.
"...and then Much throws the alchemist's fire right into the center of the assembled wooden construct horde! Dozens of burning battlesuit parts are blasted across the arena!..."
For her test Much presents on the inherent unstabilizing impact of magic on modern economies; arguing that the unprecedented switch of Kholo society back to a barter based system in 200 years ago was actually a response to magic induced inflation in the preceding years.
Her speech is not well received.
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”My favourite flying dwarf!” the anadi exclaims as Haibram makes his gracious offer. ”If you don’t mind me shifting my forms as I concentrate on studying, then I’ll happily take you up on that offer.”
She smirks and shrugs. ”It’s a nervous habit,” Laesah clarifies, pulling back a loose strand of her hair from her head. ”For now, I’ve got to pass my first exams. Thinks Desnan thoughts for me!”
Later, in full anadi form, Laesah demonstrates to her professors a unique method of requisitioning water from jungle foliage making use of her additional limbs.
”It is based on my studies of botanical texts I found in Madame Yao’s kitchen as well as anadi mythology,” she explains as she subconsciously holds her breath at the key moment of the extraction.
As predicted, a small collection of potable water trickles from the collection of leaves, clearly enough to extinguish thirst and preserve wilderness viability.
With the testing complete, Okoro proposes a game night to blow off some steam. Chezire hears about this and approaches you on the side.
He looks a little slyer than normal and says, "For our first party after our first tests, we should be celebrating - or mourning - with something special. If you are interested in helping me procure a finer brew than my normal work, I have some ideas. It requires a subtle hand, a brave heart, and a little moral flexibility."
The remaining teachers, Zuma and Ot, have also requested you stop by their offices, but they haven't supplied any details. You get the feeling that these are not optional requests, but they are not breathing down your necks either.
"I'm not particularly subtle, Chezire."
Much begins with a gesture to meant to encompass her entire heavily-armored, bloody form.
"But I think we'd be happy to try and help."
"Well, even if you might struggle, I'm sure some of your friends possess the required talents." Chezire says, glancing at Maddox. "And you have an amurrun who seems to possess our typical gifts, so I have no doubts you will work it out." He looks to Haunt with pride, having heard of his excellent exam results.
The grins mischievously adding, "And unless I miss my mark, some of you may enjoy the target of this quest." He winks at Laesah and leans forward, finally getting to the details.
"I understand Teacher Koride has been running some tests using carnivorous bugs and a certain fey corpse you were all kind enough to create. Fetch a handful of bugs from her office... Not so many that she would notice, let's say... a dozen or so. These will not still have the corpse material in them, I am not barbaric, but the bugs will certainly have some effects from consuming the tissue from the First World. I theorize that it will make for a very unique brew."
Chizire's eyebrows go up and he makes a tense, hissing sound. "Yes, ask her. She tends to break rules for her favorite students, so who knows, it might even work. Worst case scenario, the bugs will have a second corpse to munch on."
Having rationalized this to himself, Chizire's posture relaxes to the typical lackadaisical bearing. "Just please don't mention my name. I'll of course deny everything."
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”Of course, Chezire, I won’t mention you.”
On her way to the professor’s office, Laesah considers her ‘ask’.
I don’t want to flat-out lie to the head of my branch, but I also don’t think that she’ll be keen to donate insects for Chezire’s purpose….”
”As a follow-on from my successfully-presented study, I’d like to continue my experiments by making use of some of the insects that I harvested - “ here, she indicates the carnivorous insect enclosure in question to Teacher Koride - ”if I could ask you for perhaps a score of those subjects. I will treat them with the respect and care that they deserve.”
At some point in the interval between the tournament and the exams, Haunt finds Esi in the common room of Spire Dorm.
"So, were you serious about sparring for practice? I think I'd like that, maybe after exams? I'm sure Much would join us sometimes, too. What kind of fighting do you like to do?"
"Well, even if you might struggle, I'm sure some of your friends possess the required talents." Chezire says, glancing at Maddox. "And you have an amurrun who seems to possess our typical gifts, so I have no doubts you will work it out." He looks to Haunt with pride, having heard of his excellent exam results.
Haunt nods slowly at Chesire's suggestion, inclined to be agreeable, not offended at the idea of breaking a few harmless rules in the interest of having a good time, but more a bit confused about what the other amurrun is actually talking about.
"So you need the beetles to make... what? Bug juice? And this is some kind of cultural thing for us? Is this one of those traditional recipes my old master tried to teach me that I missed while daydreaming? But yes, sure, I'll help out. "
"So you need the beetles to make... what? Bug juice? And this is some kind of cultural thing for us? Is this one of those traditional recipes my old master tried to teach me that I missed while daydreaming? But yes, sure, I'll help out. "
Chizire laughs and says, "No, cousin, not bug juice. Think of this as a happy meritage of wine making and potion making. Yes, it'll have bugs in it, but that is quite tame compared to what goes into many of the potions people happily drink. Those stories about eyes of this and tongues of that are not far off the mark."
Haunt racks his brain to fact check if this is a catfolk thing and realizes that it actually IS, and Chizire seems to not know it. In fact, now that he thinks about it, Haunt remembers that someone from his past that used to make a fantastic potionwine, and even recalls a couple of tricks that would elevate whatever Chizire is putting together. If you were to share this info, Chizire would likely be thrilled with you, or whatever passes as thrilled from him.
”As a follow-on from my successfully-presented study, I’d like to continue my experiments by making use of some of the insects that I harvested - “ here, she indicates the carnivorous insect enclosure in question to Teacher Koride - ”if I could ask you for perhaps a score of those subjects. I will treat them with the respect and care that they deserve.”
Koride frowns. A not uncommon expression from the teacher, as you've learned. "You know you are the only one from that gaggle of Ot's that I like... Fine, have a few, but you must show me the results of whatever these contribute to your studies. They are literally irreplaceable unless you've killed some more gremlins and not told me about it?"
She hands you a specimen jar and gestures towards the enclosure, promptly going back to her paperwork.
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Much is lounging nearby as Haunt speaks to Chizire. Chizire seems oblivious, but Much sees Haunt's ears perk up with sudden insight.
"What is it, Haunt? What kind of potion are we making here?"
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”They are literally irreplaceable unless you've killed some more gremlins and not told me about it?"
Laesah shudders at the words, still reconciling to herself the violence required to end the gremlin’s mischief.
”No, teacher, and by the grace of Grandmother, I should hope not to need to do so anytime in the future. And yes, I will share with you the fruits of my endeavours. Thank you.”
With practiced ease, Laesah places several of the wriggling insects from the enclosure in a small wooden box, curtsies to the Professor, and departs.
”Hey y’all,” Laesah smiles as she rejoins the Elixir-eers, ”look what I got!”
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Haunt grins at Much. "Not a potion so much as a potionwine, Much! Grandmother Tespa - my mother's mother - used to make it back in Murraseth, but I haven't had any since I was a cub stealing sips from the adults' cups at parties."
Turning back to Chezire, Haunt says, "The trick is that you have to mash up the bugs first..."
”Hey y’all,” Laesah smiles as she rejoins the Elixir-eers, ”look what I got!”
"OK, great!" Haunt looks at the jar, estimating the number of beetles. "So for this many bugs, once you've got them good and squished you pour in something like three fingers of melted butter and half a cup of honey. You mix that up first and that's when you add the whole gloppy mess into your brew. Trust me, you'll notice the difference!"
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Chizire, looks back and forth between Laesah and Haunt, a grin spreading across his normally aloof expression. "You two are a rare delight. So earnest, yet effective."
He takes the jar of bugs, holding them delicatedly. "So, Laesah, you just... asked her for these? And you are not a pile of ashes? She must like you quite a bit. I approached the subject with her and I thought she was going to feed me to her mantipedes. And I know she favors me. How could she not?" He says.
"And you, cousin... I have no idea what to make of you. Are you a savant, pulling old lore from the ether? Are you playing a prank on me, and this elaborate story is a ruse? Either way, I am impressed, and you are a credit to our people. Always make them guess about you. Always know more than they think you do. You will get the first glass at the party."
He places his paw over his heart, and stands up straight. You realize you have never seen him with good posture, he's always lounging or slouching. "I am at your service, should you ever need help studying for the Cascade Bearers, and hope you find your way into their ranks. And here, let me share this with you."
He places the jar into his bookbag of holding and produces his spellbook. "I believe you both have an interest in insects? This will help."
It's the night of the party, and almost every student you know is there, crammed into Okoro's room and spilling out into the hallway. Chizire is at the door, pouring drinks and handing them out. Ignaci is deep in conversation with A'mino's on-again-off-again boyfriend, Hatsi Chall. Haibram and Mariama look to already be drunk, laughing at a joke and trying to knock the potionwine out of each others hands. Noxolo is in the corner with Strands-of-Glowing-Dawn Tzeniwe, trying to show her some dance moves. Noxolo's snabble and Tzeniwe's children, usually permanent fixtures, are nowhere to be seen.
In the middle of the room, at a gaming table, is Okoro. He rises to come greet you, arms wide in welcome, twisting and turning to move through the room until he's near enough to speak without shouting. "You made it!" He shouts anyway. "The Lords of the Arena! the Birebreather! and..." He looks at Laesah, frowning and concentrating. "The chef? Koride's pet? Don't worry, we'll get you something good, I promise," Okoro says, sincerely, gently patting your shoulder.
"Mingle if you'd like, everyone, but when you are ready, I have a game for you. It's brand new, I barely know how to play it, and I already know none of these ones would give me a good game. Except Chizire, probably, but he's busy."
"Count me in for drinks and games." Much responds, "Kholo are renowned for their alcohol tolerance, as well as their skill in games."
Haunt is delighted to learn verminous lure. "Next time we go looking for centipedes, we can just cast it on Pelaksana and everybody wins! See you at the party!"
Once at the party, Haunt accepts a cup of potionwine with some trepidation, hoping he didn't mess up the recipe, and takes a tentative sip.
"Mingle if you'd like, everyone, but when you are ready, I have a game for you. It's brand new, I barely know how to play it, and I already know none of these ones would give me a good game. Except Chizire, probably, but he's busy."
"Sure, I'll give it a try!"
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Laesah retires from Chizire’s company and returns to her room before the festivities.
Later, she rolls up to the party in a daring silken slip that leaves little of her anthropomorphic form to be imagined. She smiles demurely at Okoro’s greeting. At A’mino’s shocked look, Laesah grabs a cup of potionwine and drinks it down in one gulp.
”This is a PARTY, A’mino. You’re supposed to play. You know how to play, right?” Abruptly, Laesah leers back at Okoro. ”I want to play with you.” She giggles to herself and at Okoro’s face. ”Teach me your game. If I like it, I’ll let you have the first dance with me. If I don’t like it, then you’ll have to wait for the second dance.”
"I... Ummm..." Okoro stammers, trying to recover from Laesah's entrance. "Yeah. OK. The game. Right." He puts himself back on more familiar footing, grabs two cups of potionwine, handing one to Laesah and taking a taking a big gulp out of his own.
He leads everyone back to the table and pulls out the multiple sheets of parchment that make up the game's rules and starts to explain. "The rules are intense. The first part - one of my favorite parts - is just figuring out how to play at all. Maybe give these a quick scan and tell me what you think?"
Okoro offers you the rules to review and begins setting up the board.
Critical success: +2 item bonus to Occultism and Diplomacy checks, as the connections between things become obvious.
Success: +1 item bonus to Occultism and Diplomacy checks, as the connections between things becomes clearer. -1 penalty to reflex saves as your connection to the ground becomes more tenuous.
Failed: -1 to any reflex saves, will saves, and knowledge checks as you get a little buzzed. +1 to Diplomacy checks because you're still interesting and insightful to talk to.
Critical fail: -2 to any reflex saves, will saves, and knowledge checks. -3 to diplomacy checks. You are so hammered annoying right now.
Effects last 3 hours. Any additional drinks provoke another roll, but the effects do not stack, drinkers merely take the new result. Once a critical failure is rolled, further drinks have no new effect.