"... help me... please... if you're out there... please help me..."
"Help me understand this, Fletcher! How the hell are we meant to fit in four new tables if you spread them out like that?! I thought you had a University education, you stupid dolt!"
Tilly's roar booming through the walls. That sound so often was the wake-up call in the Dead Mermaid's Casino.
Last edited by Lentil Sponge; Apr 3rd, 2023 at 11:56 PM.
The loud morning call and the rush about the building as the entire casino was awakening brought Kara into a panic as her current roommate got up with a jolt. It was just enough for her make her bottom half decent before her own clothes were being tossed her way, "Wait, are you-"
It was a flurry of activity before Celia herself dashed out the door. Most of Kara's garments were back on and her arm was lightly outstretched, only to go back to her side as a sigh escaped her lips. Kara felt far better than before she was beaten last night, with just a simple massage and a good rest. Probably Now that her constitution is now at 10better shape than ever. Standing there where Celia passed through was the buxom elf, Sandraminae. Kara bowed her head, mouthing out, 'Good morning', so as not to further interrupt the woman.
A question was asked of Kara, she was paying attention, but it wasn't like there was much of an ability to have a varied answer in front of the boss telling you that your work is only going to get harder. She nods her head. What came next, was that Kara followed the elf's gaze. She certainly felt an usual tightness there, despite not having her sash on... Kara immediately pulls up her pants and her face flushes colors of embarrassment, "She threw them at me." She then glances aside and asks, "These aside. Does that list of dangerous people also include..." She pauses, as if expecting Tilly to be summoned by uttering the word, only to eventually whisper, "Kasturr."
Once Sandraminae left the immediate vicinity, Kara ensured that her sash was on to secure her normally loose pants. Looking about the room, she noticed the card and the note left within the room. After viewing the note with some embarrassment, Kara tucked both away and stepped out into the Casino proper.
It felt good to have an actual bed to sleep in, and, glancing at some activity in the upper halls, she was not the only one that enjoyed the company of a paid room. After a delay to take a look around, Kara charges after Sandraminae, "Hey miss, I know it isn't my shift yet, but anything I can do to help out, at least for the next hour? Kinda want to get my feet on the ground before running off somewhere for 'free time'."
Tarbin awoke with a start as he shot up from his sleep only to find himself in a crowded room surrounded by other people. It took the large man a moment to regain his bearings as he reached out for something that wasn’t there. By the time Tarbin knew where he was Ariadne was there and everyone was greeting her. Slowly climbing to his feet Tarbin stood back until the greetings were over.
”I agree, I do not think he was good for you” Tarbin agreed adding to Liana’s statement. ”And you need not repay us, we merely did what was right…” Tarbin replied waving off the debt though he was likely the only one that felt that way.
The crowd of workers however seemed more than willing to contribute towards the perceived debt and soon enough the crowd were making offers. Tarbin bowed his head slowly in response. ”Supplies are always welcome…” he replied evenly before a small smile spread across his lips. ”And I do enjoy a good chilli…”
The door to the common room then slammed open and the room fell silent as Tilly entered.
As Tilly’s eye fell upon Ariadne Tarbin protectively took a step towards the young woman though as it seemed that wasn’t necessarily as while her bark was as harsh as ever there was no bite this morning.
Tarbin then frowned at the mention of the upcoming jobs, while he had no problem with performing errands the prospect of beating someone without knowing if they truly deserved it was not something he was keen on doing.
After Tilly left and Tarbin turned to get dressed he picked up something that had fallen out of his hat which he studied for a moment before tucking it in to a pouch and resuming to pull his clothes and armour on.
”Ariadne, miss Sandraminae said she would like to speak to you…” Tarbin added once he was dressed. ”I can come with you if you wish…” the large man then offered.
When the ‘bucket brigade’ huddled up Tarbin frowned with a thoughtful look. ”I too had a similar vision” the large man replied. ”Something is wrong if the spirits of the dead are unable to cross over and are being trapped in such a place…” Tarbin declared seriously. ”We must help them!” he then declared with an equally serious look.
”I would argue that the waxworks is indeed a place or places.” Tarbin declared with a frown. ”We are in it now, I know not if it be this place or this entire city or what though…” Tarbin countered.
With a belly full of spirits and a head full of stars, Vyeggar had stumbled away from the sweet company of the kobold known to him only as Honeypot, in the vague direction of his bed and, perhaps, sleep – or a pale facsimile thereof. Normally, with a gut full of rye and not much else, it was lights out until dawn, and after stumbling through the vaguely outlined grey of the room (with his orcish heritage, dark was never truly dark), he half-fell, half-lay down on the lumpy yet serviceable mattress and shut his cloudy golden eyes. He had talked little to his kobold companion – if she could be called that. He preferred instead to listen to her when she felt like talking. Honepot, for her part, didn’t seem to know what to make of Vyeggar – at least, that was the impression he got. In the short time that he’d been "employed" at the casino, the half-orc had made more than a hint of a bad reputation for violence, drunkenness, and all-around d*uchebaggery. To his credit, he had never made any attempt to dissuade the staff and patrons of the casino of that impression; nay, it was better to lean into it and make the others underestimate his guile. Damien and Grim, at the very least, had seen beyond his loutish veil to the cunning mind within. He had an impression that Sandramine and Tilly also had a notion that he was more than just a brute, though that may have been wishful thinking of a sort; in reality, he doubted very much that he registered with Tilly any further than just another name in her ledger of debtors. And Sandramine would never forget his earlier manipulation down by the docks. That was just as well. He preferred to look his enemies right in the eyes.
Normally, when he drank to excess and then collapsed into bed, there were no dreams, but in a strange break with tradition, Vyeggar found himself having an incredibly vivid and, not to put too fine a point on it, frightening dream. The detail his brain was presenting him was so sharp, the vision so stark and macabre, for a moment his heart stopped in his chest in fear. Not again, not again, no they can’t take me again, no… Terror gripped his heart like claws of ice. Had they taken him? Had the Sophists gotten ahold of him yet again, now that his body was once again filled with hot, iron-rich blood? Sophi’s sweet embrace had been like a terrible kiss, a ritualistic experience that seemed to drain his very soul, ensorcelling his mind while her priests flayed his skin open to drain him for days unending. He had not, to the best of his memory, told anyone about the suffering he had endured. Such recollections could only do harm. He had spent countless hours, days – an indeterminable amount of time – trying to forget. And though he had love for the goddess of battle, he could never shake the terror which came from being within her embrace.
This dream, however, was not that. For starters, he was unbound. There was no sensual, earthy beast in the shape of a woman before him, no strong tentacles holding him down while he knelt before her and lapped at his goddess in sexual subservience. This was not that. There was light and dark and heat and cold, and he was free. Only that wasn’t the case at all, for as he turned around, he beheld the shut door, and despite his great strength he could not pull it open to escape from this cloying Golgotha.
A bubbling sound like a stewpot brought to boil began to insist upon his consciousness, a gurgling drone which grew louder inside the strange, skull-lined prison he found himself in. He licked his teeth and knew he was dreaming, for they were all there, each discrete morsel of bone set firm once again in his jaw. He did not smile, he could not. This place was a crypt, a disgustingly humid tomb which he seemed to have fallen into, plummeting down from the clouds of sleep to come crashing through the earth and into this hideous, rancid room. What was this? The curiosity seemed to have clashed and won against the fear of the unknown, and he found his traitor feet moving closer and closer to the bubbling cauldron. The metal bowl was feet across and filled with a dense, opaque liquid that could just as likely be melted candlewax as it could semen. He reached a tentative hand out while his mind railed against this foolish course of action. Don’t touch it! It’ll burn you to the bones!
He did not touch it. Before his golden eyes, the bubbling liquid flashed, and in that moment went pitch black like the tar he had so recently dumped into the river, the same tar which had been the source of his group’s moniker. He recoiled in horror, uncertain what he was dealing with but sure that it was nothing good.
”This is the Waxworks,” a bubbling voice regurgitated from somewhere deep within the boiling blackness. A compulsion, a force gripped his muscles and manipulated his hand to actually reach into the boiling, tarry liquid! His mind railed to retake control, but he was as powerless as a marionette. His pale green fingers met the simmering, necrotic stew – and then they were plunging below the surface, followed by the wrist and submerging down to the elbow. His fingers grabbed something solid below the surface, some sort of limb - a wrist, a hand – and, grasping the object tightly, pulled it to the surface.
A woman, naked, boiling, stood there in the center of the pot like a candelabra upon a holiday table spread, her skin popping like a lit wick. Vyeggar’s mouth was agape in horror. The woman – who could not possibly be alive – stood there nonetheless, her permanence unaffected by his incredulity. She continued as though there had been no break between her opening statement and Vyeggar’s retrieval of her from the depths of the cauldron.
”It has been the Waxworks for a long time.” Her voice was pained, burning with wax. He could hear pustules popping as the heat worked its frightful magic on her skin. He could not look away.
”You walked in here willingly, and it is now a prison. This is a place of entropy, helplessness and evil. You have allowed yourself to be paralysed, unable to be free.”
Vyeggar’s mouth gawped like a fish. He had no words for this grisly scene, this unexpected critique of actions he had no memory of making. His lungs, which should have been expanding and contracting had this been a real place, seemed full of dense, acrid smoke, even though he himself had not yet drawn breath. Because I am dreaming. Because you don’t need to breathe in dreams. Only… the burning in his chest seemed to match the burning of his arm, and he could not decide which was worse. He was suffocating inside this sulfurous hell, yet would not allow himself to take a breath for fear it would only poison him further.
The woman suddenly dropped back down into the grim, bubbling stew. Vyeggar stared transfixed, horrified. Only bubbles upon the surface served as a reminder she had ever been there – those, and the words which echoed in his mind. He wondered if perhaps whatever poison was in the air had caused him to hallucinate. He looked at his arm, still so sure that this was a dream. He reached down to pinch his arm, but in the beat of his heart the woman – the figure – reemerged.
He could not stifle a gasp. This unhallowed scene was so far beyond the pale of any of the horrors he had yet witnessed in his short and miserable life, and for but a moment he caught himself thinking, I would sooner return to the Sophists and their bloodletting than remain here a moment longer!
The woman had re-emerged from the bubbling depths of the cauldron, and she had apparently brought tarot cards. Vyeggar had no interest in the occult, finding such pursuits and the fools who dabbled in them to be as dumb as doorknobs, yet for all his scorn at those who practiced such mindless witchery, his eyes never left the three cards she held in her boiling white hands. The first was turned up, and he saw a wounded man sitting upon a broken throne - a king, perhaps, but if so his form was shattered like glass
”All of these cards are your past. This card, the Beating represents great torment and pain. The dissolution of the self, mentally and physically. But, lo, it is misaligned. Where others would have been destroyed by their humiliations, you, Vyeggar, are stronger than you ever have been.”
By itself, the fact that this strange, boiled cauldron lady knew his name should have been wholly unsettling; set against the unholy backdrop of this skull-festooned room, however, her knowing his identity was altogether mundane. And it was more than that; apparently, she had the notion that she could see past his half-orc shell and into the beating heart and pulsing grey matter which formed the identity of Vyeggar Vugmuk. But that was foolishness. He didn’t even know who he was. How could this walking, talking candlestick know the first thing about him.
He said nothing; not a word emanated from his lips. His mouth was dry as sandstone, while his brow leaked sweat like a colander. She continued, revealing the second in her triad of tarot cards. His fascinated eyes, unable to look away, took in the sight of a literal smoking dwarf, his body engulfed flames. The figure on the card sat there, content to smoke away at his hookah while his flesh crackled.
”Whereas this card is perfectly aligned. The Brass Dwarf represents invulnerability within danger. Others have fallen, but the Brass Dwarf always survives. But there is a hidden meaning – sometimes the Brass Dwarf suffers a dark fate to spare it falling upon others. Are you the Brass Dwarf? Is Valdik or Veklin? Who is protecting who? Who is searching for who?”
He wanted to speak, wanted to rant and gesticulate about how little she knew him, but with every word, with every intoned syllable his resolve shrank like a pool of water under the heat of the midday sun. His lips felt dry and even if he’d broken through and managed to utter a few paltry words, the sounds his throat made would have been rasping sand, unintelligible scrapings of flint on stone. His mouth was alight with fire, and he wondered who was truly burning – the dwarf, or himself.
The third card turned over with agonizing slowness, and by this point all his resolve had melted away like dripping candlewax. He could not turn away.
”The Eclipse is also perfectly aligned. This can be unfortunate. It is the loss of faith and of purpose. The skies blacken and self-doubt creeps in, fooling you into believing there is no hope. Sophi has hurt you in the past, but was it because she wanted you elsewhere all along, or is a graver punishment in your future? There are many paths to your brother and just as many to ruination, and they all look the same.”
Vyeggar was punchdrunk by now, unable to fully grasp what his role here was. Was this dream, this living vision – was it a warning? A portent? Perhaps a fever dream. Yes, yes that had the track of truth to it. Clearly, he had been poisoned by the kobold whore, or perhaps the cook who he’d stolen the rye from? Or perhaps the halfling Liana? She might have granted him the tentative boon of her trust, but trust was such a fragile thing. He was beginning to grow angry, the classic fallback he continued to lean upon time and time again when the universe prevented a challenge he didn’t know how to immediately overcome. It didn’t matter how he came to be here, or what this lady had to say, or even why his brain had chosen to manifest such a horrific vision. Dreams were just temporary realities, and nine times out of ten reality would bend the right way if you applied enough force.
”Listen, lady, I don’t know who the hell you are, or what the hell you’re talking about, or whatever this… sh*t that you’re floating in is supposed to be. This is just a f*cked up dream I’m having, and I’m going to wake up and leave now. Besides, your cards look stupid anyway. Where’d you get those from, huh? Oh yeah, nice place, by the way – who’s you’re interior decorator, huh? The damned cryptkeeper?”
He was deflecting more than a knight’s shield in that moment, and yet he stood there defiantly, unwilling to acknowledge the trembling in his knees. His glare was set in stone, but like the foolish builder who constructed his castle on the sand, he could feel his resolve beginning to crumble. He needed to make one final push.
”No, no, this is a dream. This is a dream, and I am going to wake up now. So, enjoy your little candlewax bath or whatever the hell you’re doing, enjoy your little cards – hell, go play some solitaire or something – just do me one favor and keep your damned prophecies to yourself.” He turned to go once again, his bulging fist reaching for the handle. He grasped the cold iron knob in his hand, and it turned… not an iota.
”This is the Waxworks. You may be willing to leave, but you are trapped here. Everyone is trapped here. Only you can free them all.”
His fear boiled over, bubbled out from him in a torrent, and though his words were thick with rage, it was a thin veneer. He was terrified. He began to pinch his arms, then to scratch and gouge, then he began to punch himself in the thigh, the chest, the balls, the shoulder, and finally the cheekbones and jaw – hitting, slapping, striking. The dam burst and he began to scream.
”Let me out! Let me OUT! LET ME THE F*CK OUT! WHO THE F*CK ARE YOU?! What is this PLACE?!” He stomped forward, arms outstretched. He reached out and grabbed her by the throat, but her flesh was merely a housing for living flame. It was like he was reaching into the cauldron of burning wax again and he jerked his hands back in reflex, the flesh of his
handd alight with searing pain. ”What ARE YOU?
Dice *
Knowledge (Local) - Wax Works?:
1d20+5
(17)+5
Total = 22
Actually, he might....I don’t KNOW any Waxworks, and even if I DID, why the HELL would I come here? You talk to me about my brothers, talk to me about my struggles, my life, like you f*cking KNOW me? Well you DON’T!” His fingernails were stabbed into his palms, the nails cutting crescent moons into the flesh. He refused to relax his fists. Anger was his only shield.
She said nothing. Instead, she gestured with one scalded hand toward the floor before him, and he realized that there were a half-dozen objects laid out before him. He stared at them dully while she gestured to each in turn, before dropping her arm and turning back to look at him in the face with those terrible burning yellow eyes, twin spheres of flame which looked so bright against the backdrop of burning white skin and bubbling black wax.
”What will you use to save yourself? What will you use to save everyone?”
For the first time since the nightmare had started, Vyeggar began to smile. Normally when he smiled, it was in the few short moments before he unleashed violence on someone or something. But this? This was a smile of mirth, or rather, a smirk. Vyeggar may have been a big dumb brute, but he wasn't that dumb, and one of his favorite things in the world was to get one over on the kind of people who thought they were so clever as to manipulate him. He gestured at the half-dozen items which had been laid mysteriously before him and snorted.
"Heh, nice puzzle, idiot. 'Ooohh, look out, you're trapped in the big, spooky prison cell with the scary candlewax lady, better think of some way to get out! Ooohhh!' News flash, dumdum! When you're making your next locked-room mystery, don't give away the KEY five minutes into it!" He reached down and selected +1 Dex boonretrieved the plain brass key from its spot amongst the other five items"Gods, and they call me stupid..."
Yeah, but... isn't this your dream? And wouldn't that make this your lousy puzzle and your lousy solution? Aren't you the idiot?
"Shut up," he muttered to himself. He was done listening to people try giving him life advice, even if it was his own conscience doing the giving. He cleared his throat. "I'm LEAVING now, okay, crazy wax lady? You're going to have find some other weak-minded fool to mess with. This is all nothing more than a drunken hallucination, and so, if you'll excuse me, I need to wake up and make sure I haven't aspirated my own vomit after drinking all night." He was about to leave, but he decided to throw in one more quick barb. He couldn't help it. Being an assh*le was just in his nature - and where had that tarot card been?
"Since you were so kind as to offer me your unsolicited advice, allow me to do the same. Maybe take a five minute break from being in the cauldron, yeah? I hear boiling yourself in wax is just awful for the complexion. Alright, that's it. I'm leaving now. Taking my key and leaving. Good luck, lady. I don't plan on drinking rye ever again so this is probably the last time I ever have to see you and all... this," he said, gesturing vaguely at the room. His fingers held the brass key aloft as he approached the door and, with a flick of the wrist he felt the tumblers click into position.
Only...
Vyeggar sighed. The door had opened, and behind it was just-
"Another door," he said quietly.
Standard Action: 22 Kn: Local re: Wax Works, or an 18 for whatever equivalent knowledge roll is needed
Race/Class Abilities, Feats, Traits, etc. Racial Traits:Darkvision: Half-orcs can see in the dark up to 60 feet.Darkvision | Intimidating: Half-orcs receive a +2 racial bonus on Intimidate checks because of their fearsome nature.Intimidating | Orc Blood: Half-orcs count as both humans and orcs for any effect related to race.Orc Blood | Orc Ferocity: Once per day, when a half-orc is brought below 0 hit points but not killed, he can fight on for 1 more round as if disabled. At the end of his next turn, unless brought to 1 or more hit points, he immediately falls unconscious and begins dying.Orc Ferocity | Weapon Familiarity: Half-orcs are proficient with greataxes and falchions, and treat any weapon with the word "orc" in its name as a martial weapon.Weapon Familiarity | Favored Class Bonus (Brawler): Add 1/4 to the brawler’s effective level to determine her unarmed strike damage.Favored Class Bonus Traits and Drawbacks:Bloody Minded: You are always ready for bloodshed. You gain a +1 trait bonus on initiative and Intimidate checks. Bloody Minded | Bruising Intellect: Your sharp intellect and rapier-like wit bruise egos. Intimidate is always a class skill for you, and you may use your Intelligence modifier when making Intimidate checks instead of your Charisma modifier. Bruising Intellect | Cruelty: You were rewarded as a child for flaunting your victory over others as completely as possible, and you discovered you enjoyed the feeling of rubbing your foes’ faces in the dirt. Whenever you are engaged in combat and there are dying or helpless foes within 30 feet, you take a -2 penalty on attack rolls against foes who are neither dying nor helpless. Cruelty Class Features:Weapon and Armor Proficiency: A brawler is proficient with all simple weapons plus the handaxe, short sword, and weapons from the close fighter weapon group. She is proficient with light armor and shields (except tower shields).Weapon and Armor Proficiency | Brawler's Cunning (Ex): If the brawler's Intelligence score is less than 13, it counts as 13 for the purpose of meeting the prerequisites of combat feats.Brawler’s Cunning | Martial Flexibility (Ex): A brawler can take a move action to gain the benefit of a combat feat she doesn't possess. This effect lasts for 1 minute. The brawler must meet all the feat's prerequisites. She may use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + 1/2 her brawler level (minimum 1).
The brawler can use this ability again before the duration expires in order to replace the previous combat feat with another choice.
If a combat feat has a daily use limitation (such as Stunning Fist), any uses of that combat feat while using this ability count toward that feat's daily limit.
At 6th level, a brawler can use this ability to gain the benefit of two combat feats at the same time. She may select one feat as a swift action or two feats as a move action. She may use one of these feats to meet a prerequisite of the second feat; doing so means that she cannot replace a feat currently fulfilling another's prerequisite without also replacing those feats that require it. Each individual feat selected counts toward her daily uses of this ability.
At 10th level, a brawler can use this ability to gain the benefit of three combat feats at the same time. She may select one feat as a free action, two feats as a swift action, or three feats as a move action. She may use one of the feats to meet a prerequisite of the second and third feats, and use the second feat to meet a prerequisite of the third feat. Each individual feat selected counts toward her daily uses of this ability.
At 12th level, a brawler can use this ability to gain the benefit of one combat feat as an immediate action or three combat feats as a swift action. Each individual feat selected counts toward her daily uses of this ability.
At 20th level, a brawler can use this ability to gain the benefit of any number of combat feats as a swift action. Each feat selected counts toward her daily uses of this ability.Martial Flexibility | Martial Training (Ex): At 1st level, a brawler counts her total brawler levels as both fighter levels and monk levels for the purpose of qualifying for feats. She also counts as both a fighter and a monk for feats and magic items that have different effects based on whether the character has levels in those classes (such as Stunning Fist and a monk's robe). This ability does not automatically grant feats normally granted to fighters and monks based on class level, namely Stunning Fist.Martial Training | Unarmed Strike: At 1st level, a brawler gains Improved Unarmed Strike as a bonus feat. A brawler may attack with fists, elbows, knees, and feet. This means that a brawler may make unarmed strikes with her hands full. A brawler applies her full Strength modifier (not half) on damage rolls for all her unarmed strikes.Unarmed Strike Feats:Deft Maneuvers: (from EITR) You do not provoke an attack of opportunity when performing a trip, disarm, dirty trick, feint, reposition, or steal combat maneuver. In addition, you receive a +2 bonus on checks with these combat maneuvers. Now a prerequisite for the relevant greater combat maneuver feats.Deft Maneuvers | Improved Unarmed Strike (class): You are considered to be armed even when unarmed - you do not provoke attacks of opportunity when you attack foes while unarmed. Your unarmed strikes can deal lethal or nonlethal damage, at your choice.Improved Unarmed Strike
Languages: | Common | Orc
Eligible for Ancestral Weapon Mastery (any orc weapon with proficiency gains the Weapon Focus feat)
Eligible for Aquatic Combatant (bludg strikes hit for full dmg underwater)
Eligible for Armor Focus feat (+1 AC - armor)
Eligible for Artful Dodge (+1 AC - dodge - if only threatening combatant)
Eligible for Azata Style (+1 dodge bonus if move at least 15 feet)
**Eligible for Belier's Bite (+1d4 bleed damage to unarmed strikes)**
Eligible for Blind Fight (Reroll miss percentile due to concealment)
Eligible for Bullying Blow (-2 to hit, on successful hit can intimidate as a free action)
Eligible for Call Out (use intimidate to force an opponent to duel you)
Eligible for Catch Off-Guard (no penalties for improvised melee weapons)
**Eligible for Charging Stag Style (can charge through difficult terrain and allies, can make 1 90° turn)
Eligible for Cleave (additional attack vs adjacent foe if initial attack hits)
Combat Expertise is no longer a feat, can use anytime (+1 dodge bonus and -1 attack roll/-1 CMB roll)
Eligible for Combat Reflexes (bonus AoO = to Dex mod)
**Eligible for Combat Vigor (allows for self healing of 1d6 at price of 1 min fatigue, replen after 8 hours)
Eligible for Crane Style (-2 to defensive attacks, +1 additional Dodge AC)
Eligible for Death From Above/Death From Below (situational, bonus from high ground/bonus vs flying creatures)
Eligible for Deflect Arrows (1 ranged attack/turn)
Eligible for Demonic Style (bonuses to Atk + Dmg when charging)
Eligible for Desperate Battler (bonuses when no allies within 10 feet)
Eligible for Destructive Persuasion (bonus to intimidate if you break something)
**Eligible for Dirty Fighting (bonus to combat maneuver attack when flanking)
Eligible for Disengaging Feint (successful feint let's you move without AoO)
Eligible for Distance Thrower (reduce penalties for thrown weapons)
Eligible for Drag Down (trip a foe who trips you)
Eligible for Enforcer (intimidate as free action when dealing nonlethal dmg)
Eligible for Felling Escape (trip a foe when breaking a grapple)
Eligible for Flanking Foil (affect flanking enemy with successful attack)
Eligible for Focused Discipline (bonus after resisting fear effects)
Eligible for Fox Style (use CMB instead of Bluff bonus to feint)
Eligible for Frightening Ambush (intimidate as free action vs flat footed foes)
Eligible for Fury's Fall (add dex bonus to CMB when tripping)
Eligible for Gang Up (flank from anywhere if opponent threatened by two allies)
Eligible for Ground Grabber (+2 CMD vs larger enemies)
**Eligible for Grudge Fighter (+1 atk & dmg vs opponent who attacked you this combat)
Eligible for Hurtful (after successful intimidate, attack as swift action)
Eligible for Implacable (bonuses vs pain effects while drunk)
Eligible for Intimidating Prowess (add str mod to intimidate checks + cha mod (int mod with trait))
**Eligible for Just Out of Reach (bonus to AC vs reach weapons)
Eligible for Ki Throw (throw opponent prone on successful trip attack)
Eligible for Kitsune Style (use Dirty trick at the end of a charge)
Eligible for Landing Roll (if tripped move 5 feet as an immediate action)
Eligible for Numbing Blow (temporary disable foe's arm after disarm)
Eligible for Opportunistic Grappler (attempt dirty trick while being grappled)
Eligible for Patient Strike (+2 to full round readied attack rolls)
Power Attack is no longer a feat but is Eligible
Eligible for Punishing Step (bonus vs foe who fails a combat maneuver)
Eligible for Resisting Grappler (AoO vs monster using Grab ability)
Eligible for River Raider (stealth and swim bonus when weather is clear)
**Eligible for Scorpion Style (after successful atk, foe makes wis save or speed reduced to 5 feet)
Eligible for Shadow Strike (deal precision damage vs foes with partial concealment)
Eligible for Sidestep (move 5 feet when opponent misses with attack)
**Eligible for Smash (bonus to breaking objects and doors)**
**Eligible for Snapping Turtle Style (bonus to ac when at least 1 hand is free)**
Eligible for Solo Maneuvers (+1 to CMB/CMD when only one threatening)
Eligible for Step Up (when foe takes a 5 foot step, take 5 foot step toward them immediately)
Eligible for Throw Anything (no bonus on ranged attacks with improvised weapons)
Eligible for Toppling Pileup (after successful trip vs foe, attempt trip against adjacent foe)
**Eligible for Weapon Focus - Unarmed Strike (+1 to attack rolls)
Level 3 ideas:
3 ranks of Intimidate makes eligible for Boar Style (unarmed strikes can be B or S)
3 ranks of Swim makes eligible for Shark Style (unarmed strikes can be piercing and do bonus 1d6 bleed dmg)
1 rank in Knowledge (Dungeoneering), eligible for Rat Catcher (bonus vs small creatures and swarms)
Eligible for Animal Ferocity (when HP reduced below 0, can still make attacks but at a -5 penalty per attack roll)
Eligible for Awe-Inspiring Smash (use STR bonus instead of CHA for performance combat checks, as well as a few other performance combat bonuses)
Eligible for Reap the Infirm (bonuses vs diseased creatures)
Eligible for Savage Slam (do damage and move foe when releasing a grapple)
Eligible for Tiger Style (bonuses to CMD, slashing dmg, bleed dmg on crit)
__________________
A watched game never updates...
Posting status: Around.
Last edited by Noquarter19; Apr 3rd, 2023 at 10:35 PM.
Reason: Decided to unsecret. Enjoy.
Damien was surprised that he didn't feel comforted in the knowledge that the others had also had similar visions. Something about it felt... set up. He was instantly more curious about what DIFFERED in their experiences than what was the same. Had they received different fortunes? Different calls to action? Were all of the tasks laid at their feet as gravely important as his had been purported to be?
As Tarbin weighed in, Damien sighed, tapping his finger to his temple as he tried to piece together any additional clues.
"Yes yes, I know... maybe I was unclear. Harrowing is a fortune telling art that deals in... representation and metaphor, rather than specifics. The Waxworks ARE a place... just not THE place. Waxworks is a label, in much the same way one might use the term "Afterlife" to refer to any number of specific heavens, hells, or otherwise." He stopped tapping, looking up at the larger man cryptically. "... in this case, hell would certainly be more apt a comparison. Whether it's this casino, this district, or hell, this entire city... the Waxworks are an ill omen. If you buy into such things, the take away is simple: we must tread LIGHTLY."
Something Liana said grabbed Damien's attention immediately though... a deviation from his own experience.
"Did you say... she bestowed gifts upon you?" Perhaps this was related to the responsibility the girl had laid at his feet? In that case, maybe each of their visions held a different, vital piece of a greater key. "Elaborate... what sort of gifts are we talking about here?"
Having hastily finished getting dressed, Damien nodded as Tarbin mentioned his intention to bring Ariadne to Sandraminae.
"I'll join you. She did say to wake her... though I suspect given the hour, Sandraminae's probably already up."
Damien will go check in with Sandraminae and report on Ariadne's arrival.
Liana attended to Damien's comments, as the charming green reptile seemed of the persons present to be making the most astute observations, at this moment.
Damien questioned her about the gifts.
"Well, the gifts offered were six symbols. Of those five, I chose a crown -- and I felt that as a strengthening of my divine bond to others. I can hold one more person in my psionic collective ... a few more things. Overall, I feel ... well ... just more myself by choosing that boon."
"And then, i was offered a card, which was The Unicorn. A harrow card was itself giving a gift to me, and identifying myself as a giver of gifts to others. Which I am! But the card arrived as an actual physical object, which like yours, changed. Mine became this."
She showed a golden ticket, an invitation to a long ago dinner party; long since expired.