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DM Stormwind's Legacy of Fire - The Heavens aligned against us.

Game Master LastNameOnEarth

DM Stormwind brings you the Legacy of Fire Adventure Path, in a no holds barred, optimization required, high difficulty delivery.


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Current Map

The desert winds in the harsh badlands west of Katapesh are hot, and laced with fine grit that manages to pierce the most tightly closed eye or pressed lip. Eyes burn, and throats are raw and dry, coated with a fine layer of the clinging dust. Water is still in generous supply with the caravan, but no amount of it seems to be enough to wash the dust from your throat. Any relief that comes is short lived as the next blast of hot air seems to replace all that was so recently washed away.

The scrublands here are rocky, dull and brown. While the dunes might be more forbidding on the eye, they might actually be less dangerous. The scrub here means that there is some water to be had, but any that exists will be known to the creatures that live here, and the predictors that stalk them. In the distance, a lone tall mountain can be seen through the haze, sitting silently along the horizon.

The caravan organized by the one called Garavel is mounted entirely on camels, the ornery beasts only cooperating as long as their rider or driver is vigilant. More than once a rider has been tossed to the ground, bitten, or received a splattering shot of foul smelling saliva in the face or on their clothes. The caravan set out from Solku some week ago, with a destination set on some unknown part of the northern Scrublands of Katapesh, presumably near the town of Kelmarane, the objective of this excursion.

The man named Garavel came to Solku seeking aid, warriors and mystics, scouts and servants of the divine. He claimed that he sought a force to turn the Gnolls out of a lost town, one that had been abandoned to the sands and beasts that roam them some twenty years ago. Your duty, he said, would be to aid in routing these fiends and helping a force of men reclaim this forgotten outpost, and return it to the dominion of man. The village would be rebuilt, trade routes revived, and prosperity created for all involved. How this was to be accomplished was not divulged, but you had your own reasons for signing on. Garavel's insistence that a strategy would be revealed once the location of his patron was reached was the only answer that was provided.

Garavel has been a tight lipped man so far. He has bared no nonsense and made each man or woman present prove to his satisfaction that you deserved a place on this crew before he accepted your offer of service. On the day of departure, he'd had you assemble at dawn, and you found yourself with both the master, and six other companions, each unique, and some obviously warriors. The trip itself had been plain, with a minimum of disturbances so far, and only Garavel and your new allies for company. Now you find yourself on the last day of your journey, and Garavel reports that you should reach his master's camp within the hour.

Please take this opportunity to introduce yourself. Please describe your appearance and what you are carrying, as well as how you have interacted with your companions over this past week. Knowing that you are reaching your destination, feel free to describe any preparations you have made today that are above and beyond the ordinary.


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

Seif-al-Din is a tall, brawny individual, obviously of Keleshite descent, with dark, bronze-like skin, and a short, immaculately cropped black beard. He typically dresses in a loose-fitting tan aba, and a large, light blue turban, both designed to channel away the heat of the desert.

However, his most unusual features are his eyes - the sclera of which is a brilliant sea-blue, whilst his irises are a pale green - and his hair, which, at odds with his beard, is a bright white, reminiscent of the colour of new-fallen snow.

He possesses a large backpack, chock-full of a large variety of camping supplies, including a tent which he sets-up every evening. Around his neck, he prominently displays a silver holy symbol of the Dawnflower. In terms of obvious weaponry, he has an enormous curved blade, and two small daggers, cunningly concealed in sheathes at his wrists.

During the course of the journey, he has stoically endured the privations of travel, enjoying conversation with any who expressed an interest in Sarenrae, but also trying to engage those with an obvious elemental heritage in conversation... In particular, he is eager to trade stories regarding Genie-lore, and the history of Katapesh.

Every morning at dawn, he offers-up 15 minutes of prayer to the rising sun (If anyone wishes to join him, they are welcome, but he does not expect it, nor will he attempt to proselytise - he is a firm believer that one should be a beacon of faith, by example, rather than by haranguing others), and takes the time to run all of his weapons over a whetstone, making sure that they are ever-sharp, ever-ready for battle...


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

Muqaq Al-Varisi stands six foot two inches tall, not counting his horns. He looks to weigh around 170 lbs, making him thin but not emaciated. His skin is the color of partially dried blood, and appears to be completely devoid of hair. Where his eyebrows should be are two highly arched bony ridges. His irisless eyes are the color of glittering obsidian. His ears are pointed, though not so long as an elf's. They are peirced, small red stones dangle from golden earrings on both sides. The two backward-curving, short, pointed horns on his forehead are the color of polished gold, gleaming in the desert sun whenever he moves his head. Despite his alien mien, he is a handsome man, his face often displaying a tusky smile. He wears a saffron colored ankle length thobe. The garment lacks decoration save for the gold colored striping across the chest, and around the collar continuing down the button line. He wears the first four buttons open, partially revealing the tribal style flame tattoos that run up his chest. Around his neck he wears a thick, but short, golden chain. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, revealing more tribal style flame tattoos from his wrists up. Around his waist he wears a red cord belt with a utilitarian looking jambiya shoved through it. His feet are bare. Both his toenails and fingernails resemble molten gold, and end in short blunt points. On his back is a plain leather backpack, that looks like it's seen a lot of use. It's bulging with interior contents.

The heat doesn't seem to bother Muqaq. In fact he hardly drinks any water compared to the rest of the group (fire resistance+flavor). From the outset of the trip he has been largely silent. On the first day he approached everyone, smiling and offering his hand and name. Since then he has only talked to someone if they initiated. All his interactions so far have been polite and mostly one sided, with him asking questions about the others but not volunteering anything on himself. If pressed about his life he will demure or change the subject. Each morning he rises shortly before the dawn and can be seen kneeling on a mat facing the east in prayer for an hour or so as the sun rises. He's helpful around the caravan always offering to do the most unsavory jobs, or lend a hand where needed.

The final morning of the journey Muqaq offered up the following prayer to the dawn's first rays. I have followed your instructions. Today I encounter myself, my past. Or not. Thy will be done. Please renew in me again your vigor this day, holy mother. May your light shine brightly in my heart, and smother there the darkness. Make me strong for what is to come, that I may better serve you.


Male Undine Monk of the Empty Hand/1

Standing a good hand bellow most of the group, Gin Dharak is a spry little man and clearly is an odd man of the group. With fin like ears and webbed hands, Gin is clearly out of his element. Its not as if he hadn't tried to come prepared. Never the less, wearing gauntlets that seemed to make his wrists bulge, a loose blue robe, black ring, and black chain belt, marked Gin as one not prepared for, nor accustomed the harshness of the desert days.

The heat seems to have taken its toll on this man a little more than the others. While his skin does not seemed burned, The sun is clearly taking its toll on his patience and his mind. More than once Gin has received a verbal warning from his companions not to go after the oasis that was clearly off to his right. Sometimes he couldn't stand people in the desert. After all, what person in their right mind didn't enjoy a cool dip in water.

Gin was in no way excited about making friends with these people, he would respect them for their decision to join this caravan, but until he was sure they would be of any use, he would refrain from initiating a close fellowship. Most of his time, Gin spent to himself. He would rise early so as to meditate and practice his martial arts, but found that a number of the group also rose early, albeit for different reasons, but the were awake just the same. Well, atleast there are a few people here that aren't lazy, Gin thought to himself.


Hp: 9/11

Tarin, who introduces himself as Brother Larvendi, is a rather short man (5’9”), his entire body usually hidden within flowing white linen robes and headdress, and his faced masked with simple brown cloth. On the rare occasions he has been observed out of his desert garb, it is obvious that a good portion of his body is covered with horrible scars, and while he is slight his frame is composed of hard muscle and naught else.

He typically wears his two-handed curved elven blade on his back in a simple leather scabbard, his longbow in his hand or slung over his left shoulder, and a large curved dagger in his belt. His holy symbol of Cayden Cailean is usually tucked into his belt. All of his possessions and clothing appear to be sturdy and serviceable, and apart from his magnificent blade, second-hand. One item stands out from the rest however – a silver and gold flip-case that appears to hold an ostentatious compass. Those experienced with Pathfinder agents recognise it as a wayfinder.

Brother Larvendi speaks in a low, rather harsh-sounding murmur most of the time, and is unfailingly courteous, but his conversation is limited to practical matters regarding chores and duties, and religious discussion with those followers of Sarenrae who are interested – the exception is Sati, around whom he appears to have trouble forming sentences. Tarin seems quite keen to discuss the differences and similarities between the faiths of Sarenrae and Cayden Cailean. When discussing matters of faith, his voice becomes louder, clear and musical, betraying some elven heritage.

As for Xanyon and Gin, the half-orc is clearly not one of Tarin’s favourites, perhaps betraying some racial bias, and if the strange monk of Erastil has no interest in socialising, neither does Tarin.

Tarin is a willing and competent helper as far as caravan duties are concerned, and makes constant use of create water whenever it is required. He obviously has no skills with animals, but seems to understand the dangers of the desert.

This morning, Tarin has offered up prayers to Cayden, and also to Sarenrae, to guide his hand in justice, and help him play his part in liberating this area from the evil of the creatures occupying it. Weapons are sharpened and tended to, his caltrops are attached to his belt, and his holy symbol is around his neck beneath his cowl.

Brother Larvendi also questions Garavel for any information he can gain about their destination and the tasks they are expected to perform once they arrive. If rebuffed, he will not belabour the point.


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

As Seif and Tarin finish their morning prayers Muqaq will approach them and say, "It is good to have brothers in faith near when entering the unknown, is it not?"


Hp: 9/11

"You see with the eye of the falcon there, man of fire," Tarin remarks quietly in his Andoran drawl. "I must admit, I am uneasy about this lack of information." He runs his finger up his bowstring absently, regarding the shimmering horizon with twinkling green eyes that seem to shine above his face mask.


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

"Fear not, the sun is still shining. All will be as it should be. Does the drunken god not protect his followers?" He asks with a teasing smile.


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

Seeing Gin's discomfort, Seif-al-Din will offer to Create Water for him, whenever he seems to be slipping into delirium, giving him a good soak...

With Gin's permission, of course.

"It would not do for you to lose your way out here... The heat is but one of the many dangers... The Dawnflower teaches that we should always show compassion for a fellow sentient in need... Provided that they are not irredeemable, of course!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Muqaq al-Varisi wrote:
As Seif and Tarin finish their morning prayers Muqaq will approach them and say, "It is good to have brothers in faith near when entering the unknown, is it not?"

Seif-al-Din turns to Muqaq with a warm smile.

"It is indeed good to know that you are among friends; when going into the unknown, reliable allies are always useful... I must admit, I am curious as to why all of us are needed on this enterprise, but I have faith that the Everlight will guide our path."


Hp: 9/11

Brother Larvendi's eyes flicker toward Muqaq, their corners creasing slightly, whether in humour or annoyance is hard to tell. "I tend to prefer to serve my god, rather than expect him to serve me," Tarin murmurs, then turns his eyes back to the terrain before them. "Also, Cayden tends to sleep late."


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

Muqaq laughs heartily. "Indeed brother Larvendi. Indeed." Squatting down he picks up his blanket and rolls it up, placing it back inside his pack. "Well, I'm eager to be on with this enterprise. Only an hour stands between us and answers." He makes his way over to his camel, and mounts up ready to proceed with the journey.


|| BAB +3 | CMB +5 | CMD 20 | Fort +5 | Ref +8 | Will +4 || Half-Orc Gunslinger/2

The tall and heavyset half-orc introduced himself as Xanyon when the trip begain. As tall as Muqaq but lacking horns his eyes are a surprising pale blue and his jaw is thick. His heavily muscled shoulders are exposed in his sleeveless chain shirt and his head is kept shaved to a thin black stubble.

He is ill at ease on the camel and has suffered the most misfortune from the beasts, often falling off or being kicked and spit upon. Each time he picks himself up, smiles, and fastidiously cleans his holy symbol of Torag before remounting the wretched beast.

Each day at noon as the caravan takes it's customary break for the hottest part of the day he breaks out a strange kit of tools and begins to work on the battered weapon sheathed at his side. Obviously well used the device is unlike any most of you have seen before but when questioned about it Xanyon will happily describe the workings of the battered pistol. After each inquiry he will produce an order form for Alkenstar Arms and attempt to generate revenue for his former employer. Despite his openness nobody will be allowed to touch the pistol and none of you have yet seen it operate.

A large pack with bedroll and blanket carry most of the half-orcs gear, although he also has 5 horns and several pouches strapped to his body. Drinking sparingly from his water and friendly to all this bearer of strange weapons and customs seems not to fit in here in the desert. Far too much metal and leather adorns his body and he is clearly not used to such distances on the horizon.

"This place grows almost as hot as a forge before freezing at night. Truly wonderful, but can anybody tell me why we're riding these camels? They just don't seem as reliable as the Alkentar Personal Transportation Device."

****************************

When seeing Seif summon water from the air Xanyon is amazed and a little uneasy.

"Should you be doing that here? Isn't there a chance the magic will turn on you? I've heard that outside the Mana Wastes spells are more reliable, but is it true?"

"Tell me more of this Dawnflower. I've never heard of her before. Does she protect you out here?"


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

Seif-al-Din raises an eyebrow.

"I am afraid that I am not familiar with the APTD... Camels can be rather ornery, but once you know how to work with them, they are fairly reliable... They can go great distances on minimal food and water, and their broad feet mean they can make good time on even fine sand."

Xanyon wrote:

When seeing Seif summon water from the air Xanyon is amazed and a little uneasy.

"Should you be doing that here? Isn't there a chance the magic will turn on you? I've heard that outside the Mana Wastes spells are more reliable, but is it true?"

He then shrugs apologetically.

"All I can tell you regarding my magic is that the divine gifts granted me by the Dawnflower have never, thus far at least, failed me."

Xanyon wrote:
"Tell me more of this Dawnflower. I've never heard of her before. Does she protect you out here?"

With a willing audience, Seif-al-Din warms to his theme.

"Well, since you are interested... Known to Her faithful as the Dawnflower, the Healing Flame, and the Everlight, Sarenrae teaches temperance and patience in all things. Compassion and peace are Her greatest virtues, and if enemies of the faith can be redeemed, they should be. Yet there are those who have no interest in redemption, who glory in slaughter and death. For them, there is swift justice at the edge of a blade. The Dawnflower was also one of the early Gods who fought against Rovagug, the Rough Beast, and saw him sealed-away at the centre of the planet, that mortal life might flourish."

He then smiles.

"She has never spoken directly to me, but I am a firm believer that She looks after those who look after themselves... I would like to think that She watches over me, and all of Her other followers."


|| BAB +3 | CMB +5 | CMD 20 | Fort +5 | Ref +8 | Will +4 || Half-Orc Gunslinger/2

"I see. Thank you for the information Seif."

Xanyon nods in visible relief at the reassurance of magical certainty, and listens with great attention to the exploits of Sarenrae.

"That is most interesting, I have never heard those stories before. You should come to Alkenstar some time, we have many wonders there. It's hotter than this desert where I used to work but it doesn't seem like anybody here minds."


Female Aasimar Summoner 2 | HP 20/20 | AC 15 (T 12, FF 13) | CMD 11 | F +2 | R +2 | W +6 | Init +2| Per +7

As if being the only woman in a group of men weren't enough to make her stand out, Sati seems to glow with an unearthly beauty. Her hair appears to be literally made of silver and sparkles in the sunlight, nearly blinding those who happen to look over at an inopportune moment. By her side during the daylight hours is her constant compaion, whom she calls Mohgwier. No one in the party has seen a creature exactly like Mohgwier before - her fur is a thick, shiny, auburn and covers her whole body from her petite weasel-like face to her disproportionately long tail. The creature sticks close to Sati's side and glares suspiciously at all who come close. She slinks gracefully and quietly around Sati's legs, making the occasional guttural snarl.

Sati's clothing is simple but well-tailored to fit her proportions. The fabric of her galabia, which covers a lightweight tabak-coloured studded leather, is a rich emerald green and a silver rope-like belt cinches it a. A small silver amulet bearing a likeness of the Dawnflower peeks out occasionally from beneath her galabia.

Sati has said little on the journey but appears to be taking everything in - it seems clear that little escapes her notice. Her posture betrays a regal up-bringing and her comfort with being still and silent suggest that she has spent a lot of time in silent reflection and prayer.

Mohgwier disappears at night and appears during the day after Sati spends an early-morning hour in prayer and medication. During travel Sati's camel carries a small leather backpack holding some basic supplies on its back along with a light crossbow and quiver. What appears to be a sickle peeks out of the simple backpack.

She has made no effort to commune with the men with whom she travels, seeming to choose instead to keep to herself and keep her own council.


Male Undine Monk of the Empty Hand/1

After being refreshed by the water provided by Sief, Gin seems to have renewed spirits about this group. Perhaps it would be worth while to to make friends with at least a few of them. After all, many of them seem to be unique in similar ways to him.

Xanyon wrote:


"That is most interesting, I have never heard those stories before. You should come to Alkenstar some time, we have many wonders there. It's hotter than this desert where I used to work but it doesn't seem like anybody here minds."

At these words, Gin pulls his camel up along stride Xanyon and Sief,

Believe me, my large fellow, there are those of us who are very much not accustomed to the heat at all. Its not weather I can tolerate it though, its more of an extreme dislike. One could say I am physically not suited for it. At this his skin of bronze turns a deep blue while his shoulder length black hair adds a tint of purple to the mix.I am Gin, and I apologize for my standoffish manners before.turning to Sief, I thank you brother for the water with which you provided me. I hope that you do not mind that I call you brother. I havent had opportunity to catch your name, but you are a follower of the Everlight are you not? You speak as if you know here well. If that is true and you do follow her teachings than you are well met.


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

"Well met, Gin. My name is Seif-al-Din. I do not mind in the slightest that you called me brother. I don't know this specific spot well, you understand, but I have spent a lot of time traveling the caravan routes of Katapesh, so I am familiar with the dangers of the desert."

He then smiles.

"Yes, It is also true that I have been fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to let Her radiance into my life; it has given me direction, focus, and series of good guiding principles. Tell me, where are you from, if not Katapesh?"


Male Undine Monk of the Empty Hand/1

Gins face visible saddens at Seif's question "Of a truth, I don't know how to quite answer that question. You see, I was raised in a monastery by my late mother, but she never told me where I was from, near as I have been able to tell however, I hail from and the destination of this very caravan. That is, in part, why I agreed to join this expedition. I want to know why I was ripped from the lands of my fathers and why no one would tell me of my past." His brow furrows at these last words, clearly displeased with the deception that has followed him most of his life.


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

Seif-al-Din's face, too, takes on a more solemn look.

"I am sorry to hear that, Gin. Hopefully, we will be able to uncover the information that you seek."


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

Perception check to hear Gin and Seif 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4 :(


Male Human Student Gamer/10
Muqaq al-Varisi wrote:
Perception check to hear Gin and Seif 1d20-1 :(

why frown. The DC for hearing a conversation is 0 +1 for every 10 feet. So unless you are more than 40 feet away, then you heard the conversation.


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

Good point. Depending on how many people are in this caravan I might be, but we'll say I heard it. More fun that way.

Hearing Gin say that he hails from the destination of this very caravan Muqaq's eyebrow ridges raise involuntarily higher. Perhaps we knew each other as children. What are the odds that an undine and ifrit would be born in the same remote Katapeshi village? This journey gets more interesting by the minute...


|| BAB +3 | CMB +5 | CMD 20 | Fort +5 | Ref +8 | Will +4 || Half-Orc Gunslinger/2

"Tell me Gin, did I hear you right? You were born in this village? I have recently discovered the same thing, my father died here many years ago and I return to find out how."

What are the odds?


Male Undine Monk of the Empty Hand/1

"Yes, as near as I can tell, I am. What is the probability of survivors of the town being in this caravan. Perhaps we should press the caravan leader for information. Perhaps we can pull some information from those tight lips of his about this town."


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

When Xanyon reveals that he was also born in Kelmarane, Muqaq chokes on the water he was sipping, and enters a coughing fit that nearly topples him from his camel. Grabbing at the saddle, he manages to avoid a fall. Looking up, he stares directly at the sun for a few seconds. How is it possible that three total strangers would end up on the same caravan bound for their mutual lost home in the hinterlands of a forgotten deset. What do you have in store for us?


Hp: 9/11

Still standing quietly staring at the horizon, Tarin growls softly, "Could it be coincidence that a group of misfits such as us, with connections to this place, or lives full of woe, converge here, at this time? The will of the gods..." He turns to observe Garavel, "...Or if not, whose will?"


Male Undine Monk of the Empty Hand/1

Perception check to notice Muqaq choking on his water (not that its that hard to see) 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
seeing Muaqa lurch forward in his saddle, spitting up water, "Are you alright there fiery one? Does your water not agree with you?"


|| BAB +3 | CMB +5 | CMD 20 | Fort +5 | Ref +8 | Will +4 || Half-Orc Gunslinger/2

"I joined because I needed to discover my past. My mother...my mother recently passed and I found details of my father's life in a chest. Garavel's caravan was heading this way and the region can be very hard to travel for a stranger alone. I doubt I'd have made it far in this desert by myself."

Xanyon looks concerned that Garavel may have ulterior motives.


Hp: 9/11

Sense Motive on Xanyon:
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Tarin tries to gauge what emotions Xanyon is experiencing. He cannot help help but turn his head slightly to regard the ill-favoured, brutish half-orc, who sounds very un-orclike...

So... Tell me about your feelings, Xanyon :)


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

Seif-al-Din raises an eyebrow, and then smiles.

"It seems as if I am the odd one out here; to the best of my knowledge, I was born and raised in Katapesh... Still..."

...He looks off into the distance, wistfully...

"...I am keeping an eye out for a friend who went missing a while back, and I am looking for answers regarding my... mixed... ancestry; it would be nice if we all found our answers by visiting this town, no?"


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

Bluff check 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

"No, water agrees with me quite fine. I cannot however breathe it. Simply a case of the wrong tube friend. No worries." Muqaq replies to Gin, smiling.


Hp: 9/11

Still with half an eye on Xanyon, Tarin responds to Seif-al-Din: "I was born far from here, but I have my own reasons for entering this land. My life has been filled with strangeness, but never have I felt so agitated, and yet so ignorant. Destiny approaches, but I am blind to what it portends."


Female Aasimar Summoner 2 | HP 20/20 | AC 15 (T 12, FF 13) | CMD 11 | F +2 | R +2 | W +6 | Init +2| Per +7

Although Sati seemed lost in her own thoughts she was attempting to hear the conversation between her caravan-mates.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Sati approaches the group and asks

What do you know of the lost monastery in Kelmarane? I wish to see it returned to its former order


|| BAB +3 | CMB +5 | CMD 20 | Fort +5 | Ref +8 | Will +4 || Half-Orc Gunslinger/2

lol. Xanyon would be sad thinking of his mother, concerned about the desert and caravan, and resolved to discover his past. He's also hiding something.

"We'll see what we'll see I suppose. I've never seen a gnoll before, what can any of you tell me of them? If the town wants them cleared we should learn of them."

Technically with K. Local Xanyon can roll for Humanoids, which I believe gnolls are, but it makes more sense for him to ask first then roll and "remember" teachings from his dwarven defense classes.


Hp: 9/11

Tarin's attention is dragged from Xanyon by the appearance of the radiant aasimar. His gaze drops to the sand, and his voice sinks to a harsh whisper. "All I know is that the monastery of Sarenrae fell afoul of a nameless tragedy, Lady. I seek to find the truth of the matter."


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

At the approach of Sati, Seif-al-Din smiles, surprised that the reclusive woman has entered the conversation.

"What Order was that? Were they solely an Ascetic group, or did they following the teachings of a specific deity?"

EDIT:

Seif-al-Din turns to Tarin in surprise.

"A monastery where they held sacred the teachings of the Dawnflower? And you say it fell afoul of some 'nameless tragedy'? We must see to it that it is restored!"


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

"You say a monastery of Sarenrae once stood in Kelmarane? I was not aware of that. I would gladly assist in restoring it, once our current task is complete. It sounds like a worthy goal." Muqaq says to Sati. So many new revelations in one morning. How strange.


Hp: 9/11

Brother Larvendi takes a pace backwards, ceding the floor to Sati. "I know no more than I have spoken. The Lady may be able to tell you more."


Male Undine Monk of the Empty Hand/1

Gin looks the small social group over, "Not to sound abrasive, but shouldnt we be putting some of these questions to Garavel rather than speculate amongst ourselves." Turning to Sief and Xanyan "You and I seek ancestral insights in Kelmarane yes?" then turning to Tarin and then Sati respectfully, "Near as I can tell, you seek guidance and insight into the future or have some religious zeal pushing you onward." Finally turning to the group as a whole, It seems that while all of our goals are different and personal, they seem to have Kemarane and thus this caravan in common. So, why do we not press our tight lipped captain about what is going on. If enough of us press him, perhaps he will let some bit of information slip that will further our goals."
Feel free to be pissed off if Gin sounds overbearing (or forgot you entirely). He sucks when it comes to relating to people so, while these may have been the words that he said, I'd imagine that his tone would probably sound a little condescending.


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

"I will speak with him. Anyone is welcome to join me." Muqaq will make his way over to Garavel. Approaching him, Muqaq bows and says "Master Garavel we'd like to be informed further about our destination and duties. If that is not possible at this time, please let us hurry to your master's house, that he may tell us what we need to know."


Hp: 9/11

Tarin is follows Muqaq, standing behind him and to the side.


Female Aasimar Summoner 2 | HP 20/20 | AC 15 (T 12, FF 13) | CMD 11 | F +2 | R +2 | W +6 | Init +2| Per +7

Sati, with Mohgwani underfoot, also follows Muqaq to hear what Master Garavel has to say.


Current Map

Garavel's Perception to eavesdrop: 1d20 ⇒ 8+X

Garavel looks up at Muqaq, Tarin, and any others who have approached along with them. He is a man in his middle years, but all hard muscle and tanned leathery skin. Grey marks his well trimmed beard, and streaks his hair by the temples. He wears loose fitting pale robes well suited to repelling both the sun and sand, and is never seen without a keffiyeh wrapped about his head. While he reported that he is his master's factor, his build and hands both identify him as someone who has spent a good deal of time working with a sword, and an elegantly appointed scimitar, the handle wrapped in gold filigree, adorns his hip. The golden wire is worn in places, indicating hours of use or practice. He moves like one who has worn it his whole life, and it is as much a part of him as his hands or his feet.

Picture of Garavel

Perception DC 15:

A strange metal bolt appears to be sticking out of the side of Garavel's temple, mostly hidden by the keffiyeh, except for brief glimpses when he moves this way or that. It is silver in colour, rounded, and extends perhaps an inch.

Knowledge Local DC 15 - only if you passed the perception check above:

Such objects are usually only seen on servants of the Pactmasters (Ruling Oligarchy) of Katapesh, and mark the possessor as a trusted advisor.

Knowledge Arcane DC 15 - only if you passed the perception check above:
Such a device could only be intended to influence the bearer's mind; whether to his benefit or detriment however, would require closer inspection.

He peers into the eyes of each of those who have some to speak with him in turn, giving each a stern look.
Intimidate: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 (He is not trying to scare you, this is just given for context into the man's apparent intensity.)
His gaze says that he will brook no nonsense.
"I have been straightforward with my goals, and my expectations. We are going to the camp of my factor, who has laid out the goal of removing the Gnolls from Kelmarane. We are nearby the site of that rendezvous now. Once there, and we find out the latest information, we will discuss further how we would accomplish this goal. I, for one, have no other motives, though it seems there are many other motives amongst your number. I care not why you come, so long as your goals to not conflict with those of your patron, and you follow the orders given to you. If you wish to be about, then we can remount and make haste. If all is well, we will be there very soon."


Female Aasimar Summoner 2 | HP 20/20 | AC 15 (T 12, FF 13) | CMD 11 | F +2 | R +2 | W +6 | Init +2| Per +7

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Sati fails to perceive anything beyond the obvious. She is intimidated by Garavel's appearance and demeanour and directs her eyes to the ground to avoid his steely gaze. As was likely Garavel's intention, Sati feels appropriately chastened following his short speech.


|| BAB +3 | CMB +5 | CMD 20 | Fort +5 | Ref +8 | Will +4 || Half-Orc Gunslinger/2

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
K. Local: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Now what could that be? I've never seen anything like that at Alkenstar.

Xanyon quietly remounts his psychotic camel, taking the time to wipe the spit off his shirt once again and considering punching the beast at the end of his journey.


Hp: 9/11

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22


(AC 15/12/13; HP 10/30; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Init +2 (but roll twice), Perception +6) Suli Planar Oracle of Battle 3

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's make haste!"

So saying, Seif-al-Din packs up his supplies, and leaps astride his camel, ready to make for Garavel's patron's camp with all due haste...


Hp: 9/11

Hmmm, nice Intimidate roll.

Brother Larvendi gives a curt nod and likewise climbs onto his mount.

Beneath his hood, Tarin's scarred cheeks burn. As a follower of the god of bravery, he is ashamed at feeling unnerved and backing down from his resolved course of action. He wonders more and more who Garavel is, and decides to keep a close watch upon their contact.


HP:27/27;1st Sor- 6/6, 1st Or- 2/5, Flame ray 9/9

Perception 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5

"As you say, haste it is." Muqaq says, bowing again. He goes to remount his camel and finish the journey.


M Half-elf Barbarian 1

As the others speak, Zerekias keeps himself focused on the task at hand. Marginally tall for a half-elf and deceptively built for one as thin as he; he appears to wear a constant scowl upon his face which seems to complement his chiseled facial features.

An assortment of weapons at his disposal and lightly armored so as to keep cool as much as possible, he every so often pulls out his waterskin from his pack and takes a swift drink, being sure not to take too much so as to preserve.

Xanyon wrote:
"We'll see what we'll see I suppose. I've never seen a gnoll before, what can any of you tell me of them? If the town wants them cleared we should learn of them."

Zerekias's demeanor remains stone cold with the question, appearing as if he'd never even heard it. As he pulls out his waterskin for another sip, "I have," he mumbles to himself as the memories of previous battles and lost brethren continue to replay in his mind.

As the others go to speak to Garavel, Zerekias doesn't care to follow.

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