[Pathfinder] A story unfolds!

[SephirothSage]

The Foreigner scowls as the beasts unveil themselves from the filth- putting hand to her sword as she barks out a few choice words.


"Filth! Come back here- I'll slaughter every last one of you!" She booms after the beasts- as she places one foot forwards and leans on another; breathing in deeply as she holds her Katana at her side, readying herself for.. something- as shortly after barking the words, she empties her mind of everything- feeding every last thought into a burning flame at the center- a single point of light in a void. She lets herself drift into this state of focus- preparing herself.... for a single stroke of the blade- as her eyes seem to almost glaze over, and her grin grows wide.


[dice]12998[/dice]

 

[vinom]

Squeak squeak squeakly

Health: 14/14

Race: Feral Elf

Age: 90

Class: Barbarian

Alignment: True Neutral

Level 1

EXP: 0/2000?

(crown) Basic Information

AC: 18 [16]


Saves: Fort; 6, Ref; 6 [4], Will; 4 [2]


Initiative: +12 [+10]


Base Speed: 40ft


Climb Speed: 20ft


Eye Colour: Forest Green


Skin Tone: Grimy brown


Hair: Black, unkempt mane


Body Type: Humanoid, lean


Height: 5'4" (short)


Weight: 100lbs (all bones and wirey muscle)

(d20) Stats

STR: 18 +4 [14 +2]


DEX: 22 +6 [18 +4]


CON: 16 +3


INT: 9 -1


WIS: 14 +2


CHA: 12 +1

(shield) Skills

Languages:


» Elven... maybe


+14 - Climb*


+6 - Survival


+5 - Handle Animal


+4 - Acrobatics*, Disable Device*, Escape Artist*, Fly*, Ride*, Sleight of Hand*, Stealth*


+2 - Heal, Perception, Profession, Sense motive, Swim*


+1 - Bluff, Diplomacy, Disguise, Intimidate, Perform, Use magic device


-1 - Appraise, Craft, Knowledge, Linguistics, Spellcraft

(helmet) Armor

» Pair of Antlers on her right arm[bone Heavy Shield]


+2 AC, -2 ACP, Fragile

(sword) Weapons

Terbutje | +5 [+3] AB | 1d8+2 | 19-20/x2 | Slashing | Fragile


Punch | +5 [+3] AB | 1d3+2 | x2 | Bludgeoning


Shield points | +5 [+3] AB | 1d6+2 | x2| Piecing | Fragile

(chest) Equipment

»

(bag) Odd's & Ends

» Furs, worn as clothing


» Bowl of nuts

The girl now knew what to do... predators were attacking the scurry. Harass them, injure all and remove a few if possible, then grab your nut and go. All squirrel know this. When the beast moved past her she struck quickly, if inaccurately with her sharp-rock-stick. As it continued she exhaled, her eyes going wide as adrenaline helping her reach a wild sort of focus. She moves with flowing kinetic inertia, her limbs, her hips her torso, a twisting whip cord mass winding back and releasing against the being again as it way distracted attacking Amaya.


OOC: Oh ya, she's raging, also I'm pretty sure her initiative count goes up 2 with his dex mod change.

Spoiler

[dice]13002[/dice][dice]13003[/dice]




[dice]13007[/dice][dice]13009[/dice]

 

[TacoMann]

There where enough bystander casualties already to propel the story with the five that did not pass the group. Now the story calls the beasts to be broken. Whirling around at the beast to pass, The Hermit swings a palm for it's jaw. Should the blow hit or miss regardless, they like to think they have the beast's attention now, keeping the momentum of the attack going, they bring a knee for the faceless monstrosity's gut. A wild grin forming as they twirl between the beast, and the bar.


(5 ft step to move in the way after attacks. Can I use my move action to take a defensive stance? And I'll assume to just roll damage in case it hits, regardless of things?)

Spoiler

[dice]13024[/dice]


[dice]13025[/dice]






[dice]13026[/dice]


[dice]13027[/dice]

 

[folclor]

Amaya raised her scythe in preparation, unsure what these creatures were. It didn't matter, she supposed, but the knowledge would help. She watched the feral girl unleash an attack. The scene was playing out with an unfortunate twist and her heart yearned to go see what the graveyard held. However, running from a fight was not an option.


[dice]13034[/dice]

 

[Orikanyo]

(alright here we go.)


@vinom with the sudden lash of your weapon the first strike bit hard into the creature, plunging it to the ground with a sickening squelch, you second strike hits air, but was uneeded as the creature simply twitches and turns to a vaporous gas, seeping into the air first and then back into the hole, within the gas you hear a small screech of torment as the thing is sent back where it came from. Please roll me a will save, and you aswell @folclor if you are within 10 feet of the now dead creature.


@TacoMann you initial strike knocks it back from the door as you place yourself between it and it's target, from a mouthless face it hisses at you as it circles sideways like a prowling animal, lashing forward with a sticky clawed hand. it seems injured but not impeded by your attack.


@SephirothSage


@folclor


it is your turns, do as you wish.


[dice]13350[/dice]

 

[vinom]

[dice]13342[/dice]

 

[Orikanyo]

[dice]13342[/dice]

A chilling sensation crawls over your skin but leaves you no worse for wear.

 

[SephirothSage]

The Dhamphir licks her lips and grins. The void in her mind is silent, and the flame hones itself to a single edge. She steps forwards- her movements without thought for only a brief moment, as she unsheathes her blade to strike in the same motion, a fluid strike towards the body of the nearest abomination, the nearest filth. There are no words- merely a wordless cry of joy as battle is met, and her blade rings forth towards flesh with a blinding speed.


She dances into the battle fluidly, blade leaving steel rapidly.


[dice]13343[/dice]


Sadly, her focus breaks as the sword lashes out, and she strikes the air right in front of her target.

 

[folclor]

Surprised by the quick departure of the creature, Amaya looked for another target.


(Are there any others close? I'm a bit confused, sorry)


[dice]13346[/dice]

 

[Orikanyo]

(none, hard to imagine without a board really, and drawing a map is abit of a hassel.)


The moaning sound gets closer as the fight continues, a shuffling can be heard as the odd feeling of dreads passes over @folclor 's form, but quickly dissipating, as if a sense of doom was quickly defeated by you power of will.


regardless, the fat man from before stands away from the creepy thing. "oh dear~!" he coos, not exactly helping the situation really... kinda useless to be honest.


top of the order!

 

[vinom]

Squeak squeak squeakly

Health: 14/14

Race: Feral Elf

Age: 90

Class: Barbarian

Alignment: True Neutral

Level 1

EXP: 0/2000?

(crown) Basic Information

AC: 18 [16]


Saves: Fort; 6, Ref; 6 [4], Will; 4 [2]


Initiative: +12 [+10]


Base Speed: 40ft


Climb Speed: 20ft


Eye Colour: Forest Green


Skin Tone: Grimy brown


Hair: Black, unkempt mane


Body Type: Humanoid, lean


Height: 5'4" (short)


Weight: 100lbs (all bones and wirey muscle)

(d20) Stats

STR: 18 +4 [14 +2]


DEX: 22 +6 [18 +4]


CON: 16 +3


INT: 9 -1


WIS: 14 +2


CHA: 12 +1

(shield) Skills

Languages:


» Elven... maybe


+14 - Climb*


+6 - Survival


+5 - Handle Animal


+4 - Acrobatics*, Disable Device*, Escape Artist*, Fly*, Ride*, Sleight of Hand*, Stealth*


+2 - Heal, Perception, Profession, Sense motive, Swim*


+1 - Bluff, Diplomacy, Disguise, Intimidate, Perform, Use magic device


-1 - Appraise, Craft, Knowledge, Linguistics, Spellcraft

(helmet) Armor

» Pair of Antlers on her right arm[bone Heavy Shield]


+2 AC, -2 ACP, Fragile

(sword) Weapons

Terbutje | +5 [+3] AB | 1d8+2 | 19-20/x2 | Slashing | Fragile


Punch | +5 [+3] AB | 1d3+2 | x2 | Bludgeoning


Shield points | +5 [+3] AB | 1d6+2 | x2| Piecing | Fragile

(chest) Equipment

»

(bag) Odd's & Ends

» Furs, worn as clothing


» Bowl of nuts

Squeak Squeak Squeaky springs off the ground. One foe dealt with, she charges the one who got into combative range of the woman she's been shadowing for a while. Her movements are a mix between the fluid grace of grass in the wind and the brutal surge of a bolder rolling down hill. By the moment of impact she's off the ground and spinning, the torque of her whole body behind the blow.


[dice]13351[/dice]


[dice]13352[/dice]

 

[TacoMann]

The hermit pulls back as the creature claws, leaning back and twisting, shooting their leg out to kick the monster in it's abdomen before returning to their Snapping Turtle stance.


[dice]13353[/dice]


[dice]13354[/dice]

 

[Orikanyo]

Once again, the day is saved, thanks to the squriell-barian!


However, just as before, the finishing strike of the creature released a strange gas as it faded into nothing, drifting back into the well of sticky goo from whence it came.


@TacoMann


@vinom


roll will saves! Somebody fail because I want it to trigger! One of you will sometime! I know it! And the results shall be HORRIBLE!


Save for the screaming in the background, the slight fog covering the area, and the moaning coming ever so closer from the east, all is peaceful in the area.


@folclor taking your roll for knowledge religon from before, which was a partial success. You can indeed discern this stuff is utterly briming with necromantic energies, stuff your quite knowledgable about, you might even say this was liquid necromantic energy in a way, as if somebody somehow made a substance that was utterly brimming with undeath, something unheard of in recent years. though you do remember hearing something about ancient magics, but it remains on the tip of your tongue as to what.


the fat man taps his fingers together, attempting to figure out what just happened here.. and if he can hope to possibly get back to his dinner.

 

[vinom]

[dice]13461[/dice]

 

[TacoMann]

I swirl, masking my face from the gas with the sleeve of my robe, assuming it to be some sort of toxin.


[dice]13464[/dice]

 

[Orikanyo]

@vinom (Yes! YES!)


As the sounds of the tormented soul swirls your very being you feel the sense of loss fill your very squirrelly soul!


You are under the spell doom for two rounds, take a -2 to attack rolls and skill checks for this time.


( )

 

[TacoMann]

"Well my compatriots. Do you believe the militia can handle the beasts, or shall we hunt them..." The Hermit pauses, looking to the barbarian. "Is the elf alright?"


(I assume The King Of Cups is back within speaking distance, yes yes?)

 

[SephirothSage]

The Samurai sighs, looking to her un-wetted blade.


"We should cut apart every last one, I think- but perhaps here at the ostensible source, those with a more.. mystical bent than myself, can do more.. No?"

 

[TacoMann]

The Hermit looks over to the cleric with a smile, then the paladin. "King of Cups, Queen of Pentacles." They say, gesturing from the former to the latter. "You two may get along quite swimmingly. You both share a blessing in the divine arts. Much more than I could say for myself."


(Assuming we can see Amaya.)

 

[vinom]

Seeing the threat has abated, our valiant slayer of everything collapses back. Sitting on the cold ground, panting and shivering from the exertion and the doom.

 

[SephirothSage]

The Samurai smiles faintly as she turns to look at the Squirel-Elf, and a gentleness creeps back into that pale face as she sheathes her sword in a fluid motion, crouching by where the girl has collapsed. Then, as far as anyone other than the Elf is concerned, she squeeks a few times.


"You okay? C'mon, it wasn't that bad, right? Those things where really quite pathetic, surely. You're alright, yeah?" She inquires- a gentle smile on her face as she crouches to make sure the young-looking elf is okay.

 

[vinom]

She squirrel-girl chattered between gasping breathes, the color returning to her skin rather rapidly. "gas bad spoilfruit" She get's across her speech like an actual animals, no concepts in there such as joining words.

 

[folclor]

Amaya registered the words, but she was more interested in this strange liquid and the sounds from the graveyard. "Should we not...investigate further?" she pressed. It was worrying. She bent down, reaching toward the liquid, curious about what might happen upon touching it.

 

[SephirothSage]

The Samurai nods to the little elf, giving her a gentle smile and a thumbs up.


"Don't worry. I know it smells foul, and you might feel a little ill- but you should be fine in no time.. actually.." She transitions from squeking at the little girl, to standing and turning to speak in a more normal language to the priest.


"Hey! Lady of the Cloth! I think something's wrong with the little one- she might be ill or something. You should take a look at that while I watch guard." She suggests calmly- before looking to the fat man, and pointing at him.


"Hey! If you aren't going to help, you should be inside, behind a thick locked door, so that we hear them banging on the door to get at you and have time to save your ass! Or, if you DO intend to help, pull yourself outa the inn and shut the door behind you. Got it?!"

 

[folclor]

She ignored the warrior and withdrew an empty vial, filling it with the strange liquid and sealing it before she stowed it away.


"She'll recover," Amaya muttered. Those effects she'd seen before. Now that she had some of this liquid to study later, she stood and turned toward the cemetery. "I'm more interested in whatever is approaching..." She stepped toward the shuffling sounds.