Decline of Glory, PFS 0-24 (Inactive)
Game Master Nestor

Hawkwren runs back to get his pack.

Hawkwren Agricola:
There are anywhere from 7-12 men in the roaming patrols. It's too wet for horses, so I would thing the patrol would be heavy.

Kargen Hapspring:
You do not have to tell me twice.The soldier, picks up his bow and sword and heads off away from the direction of the patrol. The two vicious looking dogs follow at his heels.

Janiya اللبن والعسل Sandborn:
You do not see the patrol as of yet. (they will have dogs)

Kargen grabs the dead man's bow and arrows. "Well, I'm not sticking around." He takes a quick look at the others and then begins a brisk jog toward the town.

I believe Hawkwren already grabbed those.

"We hurry then." Tortella says, choking up on his spear and preparing to follow whoever leads out of the encampment.

Already grabbed the bow,arrows and sword.

Right, my bad.

Hawkwren follows after Kargen, keeping a lookout for the patrol.
What's the plan?

Seems like we have a problem. We don´t really know who those soldiers are or why they are surrounding the town. Then we killed one of them and probably the others got dogs too, so they can track us by scent even if we manage to hide our trail. It´s either run and hide or fight them, bu we don´t know their numbers, only that they are more than us. 7-12 men and dogs, that´s not easy i guess.

Scum..., Luccinus says as the man takes the dogs and scarpers. Undisciplined scum.

I think we should burn their supplies - they are barely eating as it is. I can break the siege. Won't take long and we can be on our way.

He takes his dagger and opens water skins, breaks water pots with his steel shod boots and throws bread and other supplies he can readily find into the fire.

That done he throws the dead trooper over his shoulder with a grunt and passes his shield to someone else.

Always leave the enemy guessing. If they don't find a body then they may assume desertion - we can dump him a mile or two away. Lets go.

Hawkwren looks over his shoulder and nods. I hate to say, I like the way that Hell Knight thinks He jogs to catch up with Kargen.

The party moves at a brisk pace and little over an hour later they see the town of Railford.

Atop a hillock stand half a dozen small stone cottages surrounding a tall brick and timber building topped with a massive tin-covered water drum. A sign over its looming doors reads Railford Distillery est. 4693. From a squat brick building sharing an adjoining wall with the distillery rises a long cylindrical chimney. A low, moss-covered cobblestone wall surrounds the entire property.

The widows are shuttered, doors bared. No one on the streets in the early evening hours. it is about dusk Upon inspecting one of the houses, it is evident that the towns folk are hiding from you.

Eventually a small group comes out to inspect the party. Armed with pitchforks, shovels, and axes, they look frightened and desperate. They are led by a grizzled looking man with a limp, "Who are ya, and what is it you want with us?"

Fear not - we mean you no ill. We are not brigands but travellers and ones that have business with one of your own... Becher Railford. Luccinus holds his weapon hand well open and well away from weapons.

Aid Another on Diplomacy Checks1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

"Why... are people so afraid? We seek... Becher, not... to harm, anyone." Tortella does his best to look innocent and friendly.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Hawkwren keeps quiet letting the others speak. He keeps his hands open where they can be seen. He scans the town for any signs of trouble.

Percept.: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24

"We've just come to meet with Becher. We don't mean any harm. What's going on and why is everyone hiding? Is something the matter?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Perhaps it´s about time we find the partyface and someone to aid him/her. Probably those 2 with the highest CHA, diplomacy and bluff, assisted by someone who can pose good questions^^

Tortella did roll a 20 with Luccinus adding +2. I can try to aid, but not my strong suit.

Janiya towing her mule from behind the party. No need for any violence. We are here in service of the Society. I am Janiya Sandborn. If you would be so kind and direct me to the nearest watering trough.

Assist Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Tortella, my ally, your words were good..., Luccinus whispers to one side, and it looks like they may end up being friendly out of sheer relief you aren't here for mischief... but next time? When we're dealing with human villagers? Let the pretty girl handle it.

I hope that came across as funny

Tortella looks up at the man from his slouched position, uncomprehending, and makes a bizarre gurgling grunt. "Hhggrrmmuh?"

Most mens biggest weakness: pretty girls

Luccinus muses, thinking, 'Time and a place', said my old tutor just before I was canned... and now is not the time or place to train it in etiquette or protocol.

He turns his attention back to the Villagers.

The towne doing all the talking says, "What do you want with Becher? How did you get past the goons in the marsh?" One of the other towne's come and lead the mule to a water trough.

Their manner becoming more friendly.

A business proposal and maybe something more... as for the "goons"? They run well enough, Luccinus speaks confidently.

Tortella shakes his spear triumphantly. "Yes... "goons" flee from us. You safe."

Arriving back from securing her mule at the water trough, Janiya catches the tail end of her companion's conversation.
Let me clarify for my fellow companions. We have arrested only two soldiers and let loose their dogs. I believe we have avoided a small platoon since then. Are you expecting any soldiers to arrive soon? They haven't been an amicable lot; are the others the same? I'm guessing that it may be an accurate assertion.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18
I posted the wrong modifier earlier.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Janiya is gathering the verity of their response.

Why is she giving away information that undermines our strengths in negotiation?, the Chellish Warrior fumes, himself familiar with the diabolical 'cut and thrust' of truths, half truths, implied truths, implied lies, half lies and lies that made up the social training for some of his childhood.

Let us not talk here in the road, can you point us to an inn or taproom perhaps, my throat is parched from travel.

"We merely have a business proposition for Becher. Do you know where he is?"

The man takes a moment, he looks Kargen, then Luccinus in the eye for a long moment. He says,
"Lets go to the Inn and get a drink. He gestures to the entire party and the towns people to follow.

Pints are filled with ale. Whiskey is poured into short,fat glasses. "Two fingers high" the bartender says with a smile.

The man leading the towns people turns to you and says,

"My name is Dalard Fritch. I was a staff sergeant with the Royal Phalanx. Becher was our Master Sergent. We had heard rumors about decommissioning the entire battalion. Becher had a plan, we would come home with him and help convert his fathers vineyard into a distillery. In less than two months we had it up and running.

He takes a sip of his Ale,

We started selling or product off to Cassiomer and Oppara, even as far as Kathleer. The amount of gold was... staggering. We sailed along like this for about a year. We agreed to invest most of the gold back into the distillery to raise production output. Then Grald Krechmoor shows up two months ago with half the damn battalion demanding to see Becher's land deed.

Seeing the puzzled look on your face, he holds up a finger as he drinks more of his Ale. He nods his head as if to say, "I know I am getting to the point."

As part of Grand Prince Stavian III’s plan to reform his kingdom, he created an incentive program promising formal titles to any conscripted men willing to reclaim his lands from rogue lords. If Becher can't produce a the deed to his land, then Grald can seize it for the Prince by law, and it becomes his.

To make matters worse, Becher and his father never got along. They constantly fought up until he died about a year ago. Old man Railford squirreled the land tittles away somewhere and Becher can't find them. If that prick Grald get his hands on the documents he will destroy them.

Takes a breath,

So that's where we are, Krechmoor has cut Railford off from the outside, and is searching for the Land tittles. Becher has been gone for a few days looking for the same documents.

he waits for the incoming questions

Tortella turns to Luccinus and asks, "We... chase off, Krechmoor?"

Do you have any idea where Becher may be now? Perhaps we could aid him in his search. How often do Kretchmoor and his men come into town?. Hawkwren pauses to think a moment. One last thing, have you seen anyone new come to town? Someone who spends a lot of time drinking at one of the taprooms?.

"So Krechmoor is just trying for a land grab and it's a race to find the titles. We ran into some of his men on the way in." He sighs and seems to be considering something for a moment.

"Well, the Pathfinder Society has interest in the distillery too. If we help you and Becher find the titles, would you allow the Pathfinders to use the distillery as a safehouse? You would still be able to do all of your business. We just want a place to store things and house people from time to time."

I think questions of permission will need to await Becher and his finding of the deeds. Of course you are right to offer our help.

"Perhaps Becher to sign an actual contract of usage, but a verbal agreement to help them find the titles would still be useful. If they refuse, we don't have any incentive to help them." Kargen comments right in front of Dalard.

Luccinus cocks an eyebrow but nods.

Good, he thinks, THIS one understands how it is done... a very good position from which to bargain - I wonder if he is Chellish....

Dalard says to Hawkwren Agricola,
Becher and a few of the men left town about three days ago to go and hunt down the Land Tittles. They were to be back yesterday, I was going to start looking for them tommarow. I was hopping the rain would slack off, he shrugs. Would not be the first time I marched all day in the rain.[b]

[b]There is no one new in town, not since Krechmoor showed up. I actually live in the Bloodknuckles Inn and would know.
Hawkwren Agricola roll me, INT check, and perception

Dalard says to Kargen Hapspring,
I personally do not see a problem with letting the Pathfinders use the distillery for a supply dump and bunk house. But it is not really my decision to make. You will have to talk to Becher about that.

Hawkwren listens intently to what the town leader says, contemplating what he is being told.
Int.: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19

What time of day is it

How far is it out? We could head out to find him, and leave you to keep the town secure

Kargen nods at Luccinus' suggestion. The man seemed to have some good sense despite a touch of bloodlust. He takes a moment to study Dalard's body language.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

Zacarias, standing behind the two of them and letting them do the talk, watches the others closely.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

"Is... good drink. When... I return, you share recipe."

You notice that Dalard's speech has a certain Andoran flair to it. You also notice an old pendant he is wearing around his neck, it has a faded Eagle on it.

It is after dark, between 8:00 pm and 10:00 pm

Hawkwren studies Dalard for a moment. I see, well that is good, I was wondering of perhaps Kretchmoor may have tried to plant a spy among the townsfolk and a taphouse would be an obvious choice for information.

"Well we can start out in the morning looking for Becher. Maybe you can show us to this Inn you're staying at, Dalard. If luck is with us, Becher will show up by morning with his titles. But I doubt it the way Kretchmoor has this place surrounded."

Dalard Fritch it is then. Royal Phalanx Soldier or eagle knight? Or both?

You´re not native here Dalard? Nice pendant you got there. perhaps in the evening Janiya can dance for us all, that will lift your mood up!

Dalard is evasive about his past.

Hawkwren goes over to the bar and gets two whiskeys. He comes over and hands one to Dalard. To long life. You know Dalard, my family is from Andoran and I must say you have a slight Andoran accent. Any chance you hail from that part of the world? Hawkwren takes a sip from his whiskey. I think I've seen that pendant before too, may I look at it closer?

ballsy