DM Helaman's Dalsine Affair (Inactive)
Game Master Helaman

Kn(R): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
"Ah, a meal sounds excellent. What do you have on the menu for today?" Ernest plops himself down in the circle around the fire. "As for info, however, we're as broke as a raider without lockpicks. All we know is about the attack," he adds as he begins to eat some of the butter he brought himself. "Is an individual named Ahan amongst you? My friends and I have to speak with him." Small flecks of butter flee Ernest's mouth as he speaks with the Lay Minister.

One of the men comes forward. I am he, I am Ahan. Who might you be?

Ander, who had been sitting near the fire dividing his time between listening to the conversations and studying his surroundings, cocks his head when he hears Ahan's name. He stands, goes to look at some piece of architecture, then goes to stand near Ernest.

Detecting that something is amiss, the oracle grabs Harboth and pulls him aside and even signals to Hiram, who has deemed himself a worthy asset to this mission. Communicating to his allies in a grave tone, he says.
I am telling you both this, because I believe that you two are proven fighters in the group. Something is off-putting about this place or them. I'm unsure exactly what is wrong!
The wood in their fire is moldy? But keep up your guard and refrain from eating any food or imbibing any drink. I suspect it has been too easy that we have made it this far. I'll inspect the food for poison and determine if there is foul magic at play here too. Warn our brothers too.

The oracle sees that Ernest is already interacting with the Sarenites. Pig wizard be careful!

Congenially, the oracle examines the campfire food more closely.

If the oracle hasn't discovered any revealing pertinent information, then he proceeds to cast spells.

The oracle's eyes once again roll back into his head and commences casting Detect Poison on the food and Detect Magic on the 7 new Sarenites?

Ernest attempts to get into the best posture he can muster before kneeling, as an Osirion act of honor and respect. "I am Erenst Kalthet, of Kalthet Ancestral Protection Services, son of Gharard Kalthet, grandson of Tkrrudun Kalthet. I come on behalf of the Ruby Prince. He wants you to know that all is forgiven and he desires you to return." Ernest then turn his head upward to make eye contact. "You have heard what has happened of of the Prince, yes?"

DM: I am assuming that events are of current season (except the the stuff a current scenario) have still happened. So, if the Prince didn't get SUPERCURSED yet, the eye contact and dialogue don't happen.

9 Eyes

The food, for those who do partake is simple but filling, being cheese, fruit and bread. The wine weak, cheap but pleasing - neither smell like or taste like anything other than what they should do.

What news of this raid then? I'd hear it for myself - no offence to Piria, the lay preacher asks.

The oracle's eyes once again roll back into his head and commences casting Detect Poison on the food and Detect Magic on the 7 new Sarenites?

If the oracle finds nothing on the first two tries casting each spell, he tries to follow the airflow in the room. Where exactly is the draft of air coming/going with respect to the room entrance?

The half-orc oracle makes his way around the room trying arduously to quell his suspicions of danger. Perhaps, we were followed by goblins!

The detect poison shows nothing on the food or drink - safe.Will come back to the detect magic later as this takes time and then I'll move to you trying to track by scent

Zantir keeps his eyes open to make sure nothing is amiss.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

After he is comfortable that everything is ok, he walks around and greets the Sarenites, making sure to personally introduce himself to every Human Female in their group.
Hello sister, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You may call me Zantir, and you are? ...
Glad to see you safe, Brother...

Zantir

Guys - spamming generic sense motive checks don't really provide any results. And not every solution comes out of a scabbard :)If you want to get the benefits of sense motive, perception etc engage with the surroundings and the NPCs

Charito, what a lovely name! It rolls off the tongue like a fine brandy. You are a welcome jewel in a place like this! Zantir swoons as he kisses her hand.

Zantir suddenly becomes more serious, My lady, I must admit, your devotion and beauty have moved me deeply. Please, allow me to assist your cause in this small way. May the Dawn rise over Taldor. Zantir bows as he stuffs a small pouch into Charito’s hand.

Oh...OHHH!!, Charito's eyes go as big as the pouch itself. All for me?

Zantir

Congenially, the oracle examines the campfire food more closely.

*campfire wood, I made an error inspecting the wood and not food with that Perception roll.

Well, what’s yours is the Dawnflower’s, no? I trust you and your companions can use that to help further your cause in Taldor.

Zantir lowers his voice to an intimate tone. Charito, perhaps you can help me. A family friend is worried for his sister. He wishes to make sure she is safe. Perfectly understandable given the recent raid as she is one of your number. Can you introduce me to a believer by the name of Khismia?

Ernest attempts to get into the best posture he can muster before kneeling, as an Osirion act of honor and respect. "I am Erenst Kalthet, of Kalthet Ancestral Protection Services, son of Gharard Kalthet, grandson of Tkrrudun Kalthet. I come on behalf of the Ruby Prince. He wants you to know that all is forgiven and he desires you to return." Ernest then turn his head upward to make eye contact. "You have heard what has happened of of the Prince, yes?"

Meanwhile Ahan thinks a long time, looking at Ernest and thinking, then he nods.

I will think on this favorably

Not being down with the events of the storyline I'll go with your speech

Zantir lowers his voice to an intimate tone. Charito, perhaps you can help me. A family friend is worried for his sister. He wishes to make sure she is safe. Perfectly understandable given the recent raid as she is one of your number. Can you introduce me to a believer by the name of Khismia?

Charito giggles when you praise her in relation to the gems, only to burst into tears when you mention Krismia.

Oh! So horrible! She's gone to Sarenrae's embrace! She was killed by that Dalsine in the first raid!. She weeps against Zantirs shoulder.

9 Eyes Dragon wrote:

Congenially, the oracle examines the campfire food more closely.

*campfire wood, I made an error inspecting the wood and not food with that Perception roll.

The closer you get to the fire the less that 'smell' seems to bother you. Its overpowered by the smoke thats for sure. I'll let you know if it comes up again.

I will think on this favorably

"I don't know many of the details, but I know it involves curses and the Prince's arm falling off! You must be some important healer or researcher to send someone into the Taldan underground to find you. I mean, I know a little about curses; it's part of our buisness. I'm not quite as advanced at Pep-pep, but I've been trying to dabble into such things."

If he wants any info from what I know, it's all in the url below. It's the S4 Faction Goal letter they sent to all the faction dudes.

Oh, it's quite a read.

Dalsine? He's been a plague to us, says Akkuret.

Damn… Zantir is momentarily stunned by her outburst, but gathers himself quickly, embracing and comforting her. Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. Please sit with me a while… I do not look forward to telling her family… But perhaps, do you know where her body is? I’m sure the loss would be easier to bear if her family can bury her in their ancestor’s tomb. I know her brother misses her greatly... Upon my honor, I must see her home!

It now lies in a small crypt under the temple here with several others, she gestures over and further down the Vaunt towards some old tombs.

But we mustn't disturb her remains...

Ernest - Int Check please

Ander walks over to Akkuret and bows to him.Greetings, I am Ander Jotum, may I inquire, are you familiar with the name Khasekhemwy? I believe he may be laid to rest somewhere in these tombs.

"Oh yeah, crypts! Finally! Something in my background! Where are they so I can see them?!?" Ernest adds, ignoring the fact that they just said they shouldn't disturb them. He then turns to his Pathfinder companions from the Absalom meeting and unfortunately starts taking again. "This is what I was talking about guys! I bet you there's gonna be zombies and ghouls and stuff like that in it once we get there! It's just so Chronicle-worthy..." he adds as he starts to get up in preperation to bumble his way towards the direction motioned.

Int Check: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Some stairs near the old tombs indicated by the crying girls lead you down into a catacomb of sorts... and there you find the resting place of Khasekhemwy. It takes some time but in the end you get a rubbing of the carved stone casket covering.

The oracle still has to make detect magic casting then continue to use Perception check to root out the source of his uneasiness.

Some stairs near the old tombs indicated by the crying girls lead you down into a catacomb of sorts

To the girls as I (and anyone who wants to accompany) pass the girls: "Don't worry. If they were going to turn, they would have done so already. It normally takes a few hours without the direct intervention of a necromancer."

and there you find the resting place of Khasekhemwy. It takes some time but in the end you get a rubbing of the carved stone casket covering.

Even if nobody stays around to listen, Ernest goes through a brief history of Khasekhemwy. "You see, during the Azlant reign over the north, the Keleshi empire ruled the east. While there was inner peace for some time, empires always eventually fall. And when an empire falls, there's space for a new one! That's where individuals like Khasekhemwy come in." He starts to recite a passage from a speech, putting himself back into a familiar, overdone stance. "'With only sword, come blood. With only word, come arguments. With both sword and word, come accomplishment. Come victory. Such shall come Osirion!'" Ernest then drops back to getting an accurate rubbing. "Well, paraphrased, anyways. I mean, Ancient Osirion is a really different language structually..." This dialogue continues until after Ernest has come back up the steps, out the crypt.

You cast your spell and detect magic in the direction of the lay priest.

Errrr - is there a problem? You've been sniffing around ever since you walked in. Is there something I need to be worried about?, he says.

Harboth keeps an anxious eye on the oracle, waiting for 9 Eyes to tell him it's okay to satisfy his growing hunger and slake his burgeoning thirst.

While he waits, Harboth looks around the place to get the lay of the land: where the exits are, what kind of gear the Sarenites have, how their supplies look, and what condition the Sarenites are in.

perc check if appropriate: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

They seem to have clubs, while the lay priest has a fine scimitar. Food wise their stocks seem sufficient for a few days. The clothes and bedding seems a bit ragged.

My dear, we must honor the dead and the family who survives them. Please, help me return my friend’s sister to their family estate. I have arranged for a boat to take her home as long as you can get her body to the harbor. We are assisting your cause, please help in this small favor.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

To the lay priest with the scimitar, the oracle quietly says. Gather your people, I have a strange inkling that we are NOT alone. Where can you take refuge for safety? Go there. I will inspect this place further. Until it is safe and I haven't found any evidence of possible peril, heed my words and HIDE!
The oracle beckons at his comrades. Harboth! Hiram! Look to the ceilings as I cannot see that far. Something is here, I know it. I'd rather be considered a paranoid fool then buried a dead one.

Whoa, hey now Oracle. Where does this Paranoia come from? I thought we were having some great conversations. Perhaps you are a little slow on the uptake my friend, but we already did take them to a secure location: Here! Zantir gestures to the surrounding room.

Ander stepping out the crypt with Ernest, hears the Oracle and begins peering at the ceiling.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"Did I trigger something up there? What's it look like? Can you handle it? Describe it to me; I might be able to tell you what it is from down here!" Erenst yells distantly from downstairs, hearing some sort of commotion. "Oh! If it looks like a Garun--... well... if it looks like a bandaged-up guy, see if he's got a scarab symbol embedded in his forehead! If he does, try not to mess him up too bad! We're supposed to honor the dead; not blindly bash their skulls in!"

Harboth looks skeptically at the ceiling.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

Please protect us, says the Lay Priest and then he begins to order the flock.

9 Eyes Dragon can give me a sense motive, as can Zantir. 9 Eyes can give me a perception check with Scent

My dear, we must honor the dead and the family who survives them. Please, help me return my friend’s sister to their family estate. I have arranged for a boat to take her home as long as you can get her body to the harbor. We are assisting your cause, please help in this small favor.

Diplomacy 22

Zantir, as Akkuret starts organising the flock, you notice Charito talking to the others about Khismia and them transporting the body for you. Maybe fate has smiled on you or maybe it is your earlier gift and skill at words but you won a convincing speaker to your cause. She seems to be talking the others around to the idea. It may take some time but it also looks like they will likely agree.

Hiram keeps back from the cultists. Merely knowing where this place was implied that he ought to pass that information onto his superiors. It would be best not to get attached, lest his duty and honor come into conflict with personal attachments. Still, when 9 Eyes indicates he should look to the ceiling, he does so.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Sorry, my posts might be sporadic. I'm home with a quarantined six year old with possible whooping cough. Entertaining him is taking most of my time.

The oracle curses his shortsightedness and counts his blessings as he is more perceptive with his olfactory senses.

Zantir addresses Akkuret, Well, since you all are safe now, perhaps we should go have a talk with this Dalsine fellow.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Ur heads down into the crypt with Earnest helping to take a rubbing of the stone carving on the casket.

Even if nobody stays around to listen, Ernest goes through a brief history of Khasekhemwy. "You see, during the Azlant reign over the north, the Keleshi empire ruled the east. While there was inner peace for some time, empires always eventually fall. And when an empire falls, there's space for a new one! That's where individuals like Khasekhemwy come in." He starts to recite a passage from a speech, putting himself back into a familiar, overdone stance. "'With only sword, come blood. With only word, come arguments. With both sword and word, come accomplishment. Come victory. Such shall come Osirion!'" Ernest then drops back to getting an accurate rubbing. "Well, paraphrased, anyways. I mean, Ancient Osirion is a really different language structually..." This dialogue continues until after Ernest has come back up the steps, out the crypt.

" Khadekhemwy sounds an important person indeed. It's no wonder we were ordered to take this rubbing. " Says Ur listening to Earnest with a willingness to learn. When Earnest yell to the others up top Ur replies " As long as we can honor them by placing them back in their tomb. It's not natural that the dead should walk. "

GM Stuff

Akkuret gathers his flock together round the fire, facing outwards.

The Sarenites seem concerned and nervous.

Noticing that the Sarenites in an odd formation, the oracle casts detect magic on the fire itself.

Ernest tries to deciper what is going on upstairs as he rises up the staircase.
Ernest Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17|Spellcraft: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
"By Torag's mighty beard, what are doing to them?!?" he says, seeing the half-orc casting something he can't identify at the moment at a group of bunched-up Sarenites.

Nothing on the Perception checks on the ceiling?

Nada

Ander sighs with frustration and turns to the Oracle. What is this nonsense, what are we looking for, what do you sense. Your senses have not let us down yet, but I'm beginning to believe that this is a first. Anyone else notice anything odd?